#I just have a electric whisk and it fucking hates me

[dirkxcaliborn]

making cookies is actually a traumatic event

[hon3y-y]

Roomie!sukuna doesn't even get horny for anyone other than you anymore. You have the wettest, nastiest pussy he's ever seen- and he deserves the best so nobody but you will do. You're fucking so many other fine men now that you dont even give him a second glance when he walks out the shower in just a towel to tease you. And oh, his temper when one of your hookups pick you up and you don't come home for the weekend. Or even worse, they stay for the weekend. Sukuna has never let a girl sleep over at the apartment but now there are two colognes in the bathroom, two pairs or men's shoes at the door, and he can almost never see you in the living room without some other man hanging off your side

read the other parts here! : part 1 part 2 part 4

he’s literally so embarrassingggg it’s not even funny. he’ll walk around and flex his muscles, smirk on his puffy lips as the water drips down his ripped torso. he stands outside your open door, you’re looking down at your phone deciding on whether to spend the night at choso’s or nanami’s (pick choso, nanami gets up at like 5 am 🙄), “showers empty..” sukuna basically purr’s, resting his arm on the doorway.

and you literally could not give less of a fuck💀

you just nod, mumbling a ‘thanks’ as you focus on putting both their names in a generator and letting that choose your fate for the night. let’s just say sukuna was extremely angry when a motorcycle pulls up and you just giggle and hop onto it, kissing the stupid leather clad boy while throwing on the custom bikers helmet choso had made for you. and to top it off, sukuna had to physically restrain himself from blowing up your phone on where the fuck you are??

messages;

ryo<3: didn’t see you this morning

you: i’m staying with choso for the weekend! sorry, should’ve told you last night:/

you: i also won’t be home after wednesday satoru is taking me to this festival! i’ll send pics😋

ryo<3: have fun 👍

omfg he’s losing it. he literally will spend the whole time in the gym, refusing to be in the empty apartment for longer than eight hours for sleep. he feels like there’s a cement brick in his chest when you’re whisked away by these men. but nothing is worse than when he stays over.

he being satoru.

it was becoming a huge issue. his longest “sleepover” was a week. a week where you weren’t even home for half of it. but sukuna was. he was there for all of it.

there was now a third toothbrush taking up countertop space in the bathroom, he would find satoru’s clothes in the wash (which would always somehow be in there whenever ryo specifically had to use it??), and gojo absolutely loved to make out with you everywhere but inside of your room and sukuna started to hated it. publicly claiming you in front of the guy who literally made it possible🙄 unbelievable.

let’s just say you take a break from bringing satoru over, doing your best to settle the tension at home. but sukuna couldn’t let it go, not when he stares at the stupid fucking blue electric toothbrush and knows that it’s only temporary.

at this point he didn’t even give a fuck about the other guys, you can keep them as long as he’s added onto your roster.

it’s been a while since the two of you had a movie night. something that used to, at the very least, happen once a month has been delayed due to your extra activities. the two of you relaxed into the couch, the movie was a random one you found choosing whatever looked the best by cover and for the first time in a while, sukuna felt like he had you.

“did you buy the candy?”

“shit, yeah. i think i left it in my room?”

“go get it while i make the popcorn!” you smiled up at him, your eyes sparkling excitedly. you looked so cute and soft, and ryo got a glimpse of your cute pink panties when you bent over to grab something so he was feeling just as good. he could already picture the little damp spot he’d create after teasing you and then force you to beg and make it up to him.

he thought about it the whole walk to his room, picking up the bag and then back to the living room, fantasizing about what he plans to do. and just as he’s about to turn the corner, a head of white fluffy hair is laying on your lap, legs spread to take up the full length of the couch. and the only seat available? the one farthest from you.

“i hope you don’t mind, satoru said he missed us!”

us… sukuna looked down at gojo, looking at the content quirk in his lip while he snuggled into you more, moving one of your hands into his hair to play with it. ryo’s eye twitched before he put the bag down and went back into his room, the door slamming behind him. the noise makes you force satoru up, a pit forming in your stomach. you didn’t want sukuna to feel uncomfortable in his own house—

“damn, what’s he so mad abo- he got macha kitkats!? mmm~”

*bonus*

sukuna is literally in his room about to dry heave because??? what alternative version of himself gave him such bad karma?!? in his room like this;

but quietly, because he DEFINITELY doesn’t want you to see him like this. such a fein🤦‍♀️

a/n: i didn’t put smut because i didn’t want to get repetitive BUT should we finally let sukuna get a taste?? part 4 where he finally gets her?? lmk🫶

*not edited*

[niningtori]

let me into your world | chapter two: you've been on my mind

pairing(s): choi beomgyu x you, choi soobin x you

summary: it's been 4 years since your last encounter with beomgyu, and you're happily engaged to soobin. you're ready to get married to the love of your life, but are soulmate ties really so easy to break?

genre(s): romance, angst, angst with a happy ending (?), soulmate au

word count: 2.8k

notes: SURPRISE! i know this is a really quick update, but i'm so geeked by txt tour dates i wanted to get something out to celebrate lmao. i hope you all like where this story is going. truly, i do. also, there's some suggestive stuff in this chapter and the next. nothing explicit, but i want to warn everybody. see ending for more notes!

4 years later

you're nervous. your company is joining up with your sister branch and you're torn between excitement and trepidation. your company is really pushing the "unity" narrative and you can't help but grimace at the happy horseshit they're spewing about how the merge won't affect the team dynamic, because it almost certainly will, and you dread having to walk on eggshells with new coworkers.

your friend and coworker, danbi, is currently greeting your new coworkers with alarming generosity. it's not that she isn't friendly, because she is, but she's enthusiastic in a way you did not expect.

"why are you so chipper today?" you ask, genuinely curious.

"you haven't heard? one of our new recruits is supposedly criminally sexy. i'd hate to leave a bad impression on anybody and have him not like me," she explains and it all makes sense to you now.

"so you're only acting nice to potentially get some dick?" you ask.

"pretty much, yeah." you both laugh and you shake your head.

"i just don't get you," you joke.

"of course you don't," she quips, rolling her eyes. "not everybody is head over heels in love with their super hot fiancé." you blush at this. it's been 4 years with soobin, but you're still very much in love.

"shut up," you say, face tinged red.

"wait! oh god, that must be him," danbi whispers and you shake your head while opting to steal a glance behind you to catch a look at her next victim. what you see makes your sarcastic comment catch in your throat.

you knew soulmate ties weren't easy to break, but you never imagined you'd see him here. you had gotten incredibly comfortable with the thought of never seeing him again, actually. but there he stands, as tall and good-looking as ever. his hair is shorter than it used to be, though, revealing the pretty pink seal you've tried your hardest to forget, but never fully can. there's a moment before he sees you too, and you relish in it before his eyes make his way to you. when they do, it's like you're completely frozen. you should avert your gaze, but it's almost as if you have to look at him. when he sees you, his eyes widen in surprise, not unlike the first time he saw you. however, his second response is unreadable, completely differing from the demeaning look he once gave you all those years ago.

"is that a seal behind his ear? damn it," danbi curses, whisking you away from your entrancement and back into cold, hard reality. you stare is effectively torn away from him and back to your friend.

"i guess so," you manage to squeak out.

"shit, he's coming! hold on, do i look pretty? is my makeup smudged?" she says, primping her hair and clearing her throat.

"you look fine." she doesn't seem to notice how fucking uncomfortable you are as beomgyu makes his way over to you both.

"hi," he says, baritone resonating somewhere deep in your bones.

"i'm danbi!"

"i'm beomgyu," he answers perfunctorily, eyes never leaving you. you look away before introducing yourself as if he didn't have proof of your existence on his skin. he shakes your hand. the pure electricity you feel reverberates from the tips of your fingers straight to your heart. you carefully tuck the feeling in your back pocket — you will deal with it later. danbi clears her throat and snaps both of you back to reality.

"do you two know each other?" she asks suspiciously.

"you could say that,” he chuckles. “you could even say we're —"

"we were classmates in our senior year of college!" you interject, not wanting a single soul to know about your entanglement. beomgyu doesn't shoot down your little charade though, he just softly smiles as if watching a show and you hate him for it.

"classmates... oh that makes sense. wait, didn't you meet soobin that same year?"

"soobin?" beomgyu asks.

"her fiancé!" she says. almost robotically, you raise your left hand and show him your ring. you don't know why you do this. maybe to prove that you're doing just fine without him? you don't know, really. you don't want to know.

beomgyu doesn't seem surprised in the slightest. his eyes linger on your ring for a moment too long, but that could just be in your head. what you don't know is that he knew soobin had proposed the exact moment you did. if he didn't figure it out from the peace you felt and just how in love with soobin you really are, he would've found out from your instagram, anyway. as it stands, he feels the love you have for soobin every day and it's enough to make him want to swallow himself whole.

"you're engaged now? congratulations."

"what about you, beomgyu? are you seeing anyone?" danbi asks shamelessly. you don't intend for your ears to perk up at this, but they most certainly do.

"me? no, nothing like that," he says.

"that sounds about right," you mumble bitterly.

"what was that?" danbi asks. you want to astral project and wring your own neck right about now, but instead you settle for:

"oh, it's nothing. beomgyu just isn't the settling type," you shrug, feigning innocence.

"i'd settle for the right person," he says pointedly. you almost want to laugh at that, but you won't deny that deep down, it still kind of hurts. he had effectively stomped on your heart — on your sincerity — and the flippancy with which he says he would be with the right person cuts deep. you almost wonder if he means to hurt you even more than he already has, but that would imply he cares enough to hurt you in the first place. you won't delude yourself into thinking you could hold space in his heart. not anymore, anyway.

"there's someone for everyone," you say plainly, hoping to end the conversation there.

"yeah, no kidding," she says, wiggling her fingers as her cobalt blue seal sits perfectly on the back of her hand. "know anybody with this seal?" she asks beomgyu.

"i do not," he says with a polite smile.

"oh well, having a soulmate doesn't mean you have to be with them," she hints.

"i don't know, i think having a seal is pretty definite," he shrugs, and you wonder how and why the conversation has turned so serious. you feel like he's just bullshitting her so she'll stop hitting on him, but the callousness with which he speaks about fate when he did what he did still stings. it's like a scab that won't fully heal, and he's picking away at it with each and every word. you want to knock on his head and see exactly what the fuck is going on in there, but instead, you sit in silence.

"oh no, it's time for our meeting! it was nice talking to you, beomgyu! i hope we can talk more in the future," danbi says.

"same to you," he answers noncommittally.

-

the meeting is awkward, to say the least. you can't get beomgyu's words out of your head to the point where you don't even feel his gaze searing into you. if it's not awkward enough as it is — and it is — your boss, sooyoung, has the bright idea to pair people from the opposing branches together to build company morale and break the ice.

you already know who will be your partner, because of course he will be, but that doesn't mean that you're still hoping beyond hope that you're wrong. you are not. when sooyoung calls your name and beomgyu's shortly thereafter, you want to drop to your knees and yell at the universe to stop tormenting you, but you do nothing of the sort and give a terse smile instead. beomgyu's expression is, again, unreadable. you have to wonder how much he hates the idea of being paired up with you, but you try not to dwell on it.

-

beomgyu is, of course, not disappointed. he's the farthest thing from disappointed, to be clear. his heart almost jumps out of his chest when he hears that you'll be paired together, but he keeps a lid on his emotions. he kind of knew that you'd be his partner, but he's still ecstatic. if fate wants to bind you together, he won't do a thing to stop it. not anymore. as you're walking around the building and showing beomgyu around, you try to keep conversation simple and clean, but he seems hellbent on making you uncomfortable when he asks you how you've been.

"good, i guess," you reply. he wants you to ask how he's been doing so he can tell you just how bad it's been for him. he wants to tell you how much he regrets throwing away your heart when you held it out for him all those years ago and how he didn't know that he'd end up feeling every bit of happiness you have. he's aching to tell you how much he aches, how much he yearns. the words are on the tip of his tongue, but you don't ask. you just show him where the fucking copy room is.

-

you come home from work looking more haggard than you have in a long, long time.

"hey, baby," soobin croons as you slip your shoes off and sigh.

"hi," you say. he can sense your tension immediately.

"what's wrong, my love?"

"you'll never believe who my new coworker is," you say, cutting straight to the point.

"beomgyu?"

"what the hell?" you giggle in disbelief. "how'd you know?"

"easy, there's only one person who could tire you out like this," he says with a shrug.

"not true. you tire me out like this too," you say suggestively, kissing his neck, earning a blush from the boy. "i'm sorry, i know us working together must make you uncomfortable."

"hey, what did we say about you apologizing for things that aren't your fault?"

"i know, i just hate that he's back in my life."

"i'm okay with it. it's just work, after all. as long as you don't leave me for him," he jokes, but there's a slight edge to his voice only you would notice.

"never. i love you and only you," you say, grabbing his big hand and placing it in yours.

"i believe you."

"well, that was easy," you smile. "i mean every word." you place your head on his shoulder and you want to stay like this forever. just you and him in your own little world, no one else. 

-

interactions with beomgyu stay cordial and distant, though not for lack of trying on his part. he asks what you've been up to, if you've heard of certain bands and songs, if you miss your college days at all, and by extension, if you miss him too. he already knows that you don't, if the contentment you've felt for the past 4 years is any indication of your state of mind, but that doesn't change the fact that he wants to ask.

you want to know what game he's playing at. he had told you in no uncertain terms that he did not want anything to do with you, but it feels like he's just fucking with you at this point. his kindness feels a lot deeper than mere coworker cordiality, but you can't pinpoint any one comment as inappropriate, so you can't very well blow up on him and ask what his problem is. that doesn't change the fact that you want to, though. you want to ask why he's so damn calm and why you can't get a read on his intentions. you almost wonder if he's just trying to be friends again, but that seems extremely cruel of him after what he did to you. you don't want to believe that he'd jump through the hoops he's jumping through just to rekindle a friendship that was doomed from the start, but what else could it possibly be? honestly? it doesn't even matter to you, or it shouldn't, anyway. he made his choice all those years ago, and you'll let him live with it forever.

-

beomgyu doesn’t want to live with it. he thinks he’s lived with it for long enough, actually. when you brush off his advances, parts of his heart he didn’t even know still existed die. it’s throbbing so hard at this moment, as he listens to you talk to soobin on the phone while you’re stuck in the same elevator, that it actually feels numb. he doesn’t quite catch what soobin says to you, but he does catch your laugh that he’s missed so damn much in response to it.

“mmm,” you hum. “i love you, too. i’ll see you soon, okay? mhmm, bye.” 

he wishes your dopey smile would drop after the call, but it doesn’t. he thinks you’re actually fucking humming under your breath, – that’s how happy you are. he feels familiar pains in his chest and watches your expression for a semblance of a reaction, but you remain perfectly unfazed. you barely even seem to notice that he’s in the same elevator as him, actually. he clears his throat and waits for you to glance his way, but you never do. you just keep humming a tune he wish he knew. 

-

it starts off negligibly. first, you watch soobin as he sometimes sits dazedly, even during conversation. your attempts to pull him back to you are futile, but you give it a good, honest try anyway. second, he's working overtime, needlessly so. it's like he's trying to work himself to death. when asked, he shrugs it off and says he's busy. third, and most notably, he's colder than he's ever been, resisting your advances on him. his kisses are fleeting and you feel his hesitation when you suggest doing something more, so you don't push. things stay in this odd sense of limbo for a week or so before you finally can't take it anymore.

"what's wrong, baby?" you ask one night on the loveseat you share, unable to take how indifferent he's been lately.

"nothing, babe. i'm just tired these days," smiling weakly. you can understand that, you think. seeing beomgyu every day has worn you out. you're ready to accept his explanation as his fingers lace with yours and you can feel yourself calming down before the anxiety comes back full force — he isn't gently rubbing his thumb across yours the way he usually does.

you can feel him slipping away and you don't know why, but you have a guess you don't dare to vocalize.

"do you not love me anymore?" you try.

"what? no," he dismisses.

"why are you doing this then? it feels like you're pushing me away and you won't tell me why. how can we fix it if you won't communicate with me?" and your voice is even weaker than you thought it would be.

"i'm not trying to do anything!" he snaps and you wince. he immediately looks sorrier than you've ever seen him.

"listen, i love you, i really do. i-i just... i'm not in love with you anymore." the silence is excruciating — almost as excruciating as the pain in your heart. your fingers unlace with his and you immediately regret it. your next question is quiet, so quiet it's almost inaudible, but he hears it all the same.

"you met her, didn't you? your soulmate, i mean." he takes a sharp breath and hangs his head in shame.

"i did. i'm sorry — i thought i could hold onto you, but i just can't anymore. i'm in love with everything about her. just thinking about not having her in my life makes me sick." you feel like you just got punched in the stomach.

"what about me? what about us?" you gesture to nothing in particular, but it encapsulates everything from your ring, to your apartment, to the house you're planning to build together. to the life he promised you and you to him. 

"i'm so sorry. i love you. you know i love you. i used to wish my soulmate was you, but i finally understand it can't be anybody else. when i look at you, all i can see is her." your body freezes as if you're a deer in headlights. you're so tense you feel like if you move you'll snap in two. eventually, you're able to squeeze out a simple nod.

"you know, even after everything you just said to me," you pause, "i still wish it was you. i just hoped you'd love me enough to feel the same."

"i know," he says, voice choking on tears. "i know."

his leaving comes naturally. no dramatics, no fighting. you come home from work the next day and it's like he's never even been there. the bed you shared feels empty. at night, you find yourself reaching for him and your arms fall flat against the cold sheets where he used to be.

notes pt. 2: sorry ;-; i know it's kind of sudden but i've been racking my brain trying to think of how else to put it and it's making my head hurt. if u don't like it i'm sorry 😭 editing this to say there will be another part :* maybe even 2 more parts actually

[moonshynecybin]

PEDRENZO TOXIC RIVALRY YEARS FORCED PROXIMITY CURSE. TELL ME MORE

YAYYYY okay so. for dani and jorge it HAS to be after one of the most intense races of their lives. don’t ask me which I DO NOT KNOW ! i’ll leave it up to you to decide if one fits specifically but it was CRUCIALLY a knockdown drag out fucking fight. high effort. satisfying. one millionnnnn overtakes. and eventually they BOTH podium, and the race was so bananas —kinetic and tense and somewhere HOT— that they feel like the blood in their veins is legitimately made of GASOLINE— and they HATE each other at this point, but on days like this the space between them is also filled with this like. singular electricity that makes them feel like NOTHING else. the emotional release of a hard won battle… all of those endorphins panting shiny with sweat sticky with champagne… critical awareness of where the other is at all times, leftover from the track… and then they DO decide to shake hands on the podium and there’s. a moment. a spark. something a bit different than static electricity, but not far off. and they don’t think anything of it until after the race, when dani is about to get whisked away by honda to debrief— and jorge shouldn’t even notice when dani walks away but he DOES, he can FEEL it, and something prickles and begins to TEAR. jorge feels some deep instinctual part of himself seize up with panic, and theres a shout from dani’s direction and suddenly jorge’s body is moving without his permission and he’s got dani’s face in his hands and big brown eyes are looking up at him and they are fucking ANGRY. and it’s then that he knows something is very very veryyyyy wrong.

and off they go to the motogp doctors™️ ! who are like. yep! you’re cursed ! (magic ass universe where looney tunes shit like this occasionally happens to riders who ride the edge of rivalry a little too hard. rosquez have gods biggest storm coming for them in a few years.) so you have to stay as physically close as possible to each other for a couple of months!! it’ll hopefully pass. these curses don’t effect in track stuff really so you’re are both cleared to ride 🤗👍 and PEDRENZO are both like. you have to be FUCKING kidding me. dani sitting there picking at his fingernails COMPLETELY shut down and jorge just posture tight frown dialed to ELEVEN tiny little stormcloud over their heads :) and they’re holding hands because it’s the only way they don’t feel like live ants are under their skin :) THEN the doctor is like. and you guys should probably share a bed :)

and it’s rough at the beginning! they are both VERY stubborn and while dani remains the people’s princess i think when he was younger he had the capacity to just. shut the fuck down when he was pissed. close off. and jorge is NOT shy about how uncomfortable he is about the whole thing so he’s dialed the cuntress factor allll the way up. and there’s no quick fix! it’s just time! and dani is also SELF ADMITTED !!! not a patient person. SO i IMAGINE sitting next to jorge in bed and imagining himself attempting to suffocate in his most evilest of enemy’s tits is FUN but is also not a SOLUTION. action oriented guy methinks. loves solving a problem hates when the only solution is WAIT. so it ends up being this escalating arms race of belligerent horny tension where they’re literally living in each other’s pockets holding hands touching ankles sleeping in the same bed and being TORTUROUSLY aware of the other’s body the ENTIRE time. every SLIVER of skin contact i feels like a brand. passing dani in the kitchen reaching for cereal and jorge brushes a hand on dani’s waist to lean and he feels CRAZY. INSANE. that kind of stuff. and eventually i think dani (NOT PATIENT !) fucking snaps and just. jumps him. might as well make the fucking lemonade if you have the goddamn lemons !!

the REAL problem os after the curse gets lifted (of course. the second after they fuck.) when they are USED to each other’s presence and have begun to realize how much they COMPLIMENT each other and suspect (creeping at the edges of awareness) that this mighttttt be love. but they know the other was only around for months because they were literally cursed. and now they are free to go back to the status quo. where rivalry is expected. what do they do…

[peakyblindersxx]

drunk in love - john shelby x reader

a/n: hello my loves :) here is the john fic that i'm personally really excited about bc i fucking love him & i hope you guys like it!! i'm taking requests if you guys want me to write anything in specific and as always, feel free to message me :)

love, abi xxx

gif by: @deeptheon

prompt: you're john's secretary & he takes you on a trip.

warnings: nsfw!! smut with a teeny tiny bit of fluff if you squint, choking, power play, john being generally irresistible

There were many words to describe John Shelby. Cowardly was not one of them. In the short time you had known him, you had seen him fight god knows how many people, in countless bars across Birmingham. You had seen and heard stories of John blowing up buildings and setting bars on fire. And of course, there was the matter of his arrogance. John dripped confidence from his shoes to his slicked back hair. So cocky, in fact, that you almost wanted to tell him to shut up as much as you wanted to ride his face. Almost.

So, there you sat wistfully at your desk, sneaking glances of him in his office whenever you could. Not that you would even have a chance if you tried; you were his goddamn secretary. Despite the fact that he oozed arrogance, John was a good boss, who always approved your requests for days off. Sure, you were at his beck and call pretty much 24/7, but this also meant you had a front row seat to all the girls he fucked. The women were always stunning, making your hopes deflate even further. However, for the last month, there had been no women. You chalked it up to him finding some sort of girlfriend, so you kept your interactions with him as businesslike as possible. Deep down, through every meeting, phone call, and even just through the windows of his office, you drank in every second of John you could get. He was intoxicating; the smell of his cologne nearly brought you to your knees.

You snapped out of your thoughts, training your eyes back on the work in front of you and taking a drag from your cigarette. Suddenly, you felt a tap on your shoulder. It was Lizzie, a cigarette between her slightly pursed lips. “John wants you in his office. He doesn’t seem mad, but then again, who knows,” she stated. You stood, smoothing out your red pleated skirt and black blouse and quickly opening your compact to make sure your lipstick hadn’t smudged. “Thanks, Lizzie,” you replied, shooting her a smile as she made her way back to her desk. You made your way across the open office space to John’s office, knocking softly on the frosted window pane that read Shelby Company, Ltd in gold lettering.

“Come in,” John called out, his voice muffled behind the wooden door. You turned the doorknob and entered his office, shutting the door behind you. John sat at a tufted leather chair, puffing from a cigar, flipping through a folder. His suit jacket was abandoned on the velvet settee that sat in front of the fireplace, the gold chains of his sleeve garters glistening in the light. The glow from the fireplace glinted off of John’s profile, catching the frame of his jaw just right. You admired the way the light reflected off of the rings on his hands, making you want to feel the cool metal against your body. His hair was neatly slicked back as usual, along with his dark grey vest, white dress shirt, and tie, making him command the attention of the room.

“Lizzie said you wanted to see me?” You questioned, standing at the back of the room.

“Have a seat, Y/N,” John responded, gesturing towards the empty chairs that sat in front of his oak desk. You sat, crossing your legs and tucking them under the chair. John took another puff from his cigar, smoke billowing through the room. “I need to go to London, and

I need you with me.” You were a little surprised at this, since John had never asked you to go somewhere this far with him before.

“For how long?” You asked, taking a cigarette out and lighting it, your lipstick staining it a dark pink as you took a drag. John’s blue eyes bored into yours as he absent-mindedly flicked his cigar, ashing it into the crystal ashtray on his desk. It was almost as if he could read your mind and see all the filthy things you were imagining him doing to you. God, he was fucking irresistable.

“A week,” John replied, shooting his glass of whiskey as he stood, making his way to a locked cabinet and pulling out a wad of pound notes. He peeled a number of them off, making his way towards you and holding them out for you to take, leaning back against his desk facing you. “Buy yourself some nice dresses, eh? There’s going to be a lot of dinners, and I need you there to take notes.”

You accepted the cash, taking a long drag from your cigarette as your eyes met John’s. You couldn’t bring yourself to resist the urge to flirt back. “What’s your favorite color?” John seemed a little surprised at the question, but his normal confidence quickly returned as he smirked. “Black. I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning, eh?”

You nodded as he poured himself another whiskey, daydreaming about the way his rough hands would feel around your throat. “Is that all, Mr. Shelby?” You asked, black kitten heels tapping against the carpet.

John nodded, taking a sip from his glass. “I’ll see you at eight tomorrow.” You stood, turning to walk out of John’s office as you felt his eyes on your figure. As you closed the door behind you, you shivered in expectation. A week alone with John Shelby. How were you going to manage to keep your hands to yourself?

***

The rest of the work day passed quickly, and you headed to the nearest department store, choosing three different black dresses. As much as you hated to admit it, you wanted to look good for John. You wanted him to want you; to feel that longing that you felt between your legs every time his eyes met yours. You chose a longer formal black dress made of silk, a black sequined dress for a party, and the last, a short black dress with fringe that made you look almost like a burlesque dancer. You knew it was risky, exposing that much skin, but then again, John Shelby wasn’t a normal man. He knew what he wanted and he took it, never paying mind to what others thought.

As the rest of the night flew by, you found yourself tossing and turning in bed. No matter how many times you touched yourself, you couldn’t get the image of John’s smirk out of your head. You wanted him to bend you over right in his office, and you didn’t care who heard. You wanted him to take everything you had to offer. Eventually, you fell asleep, waking up to the sound of birds chirping loudly outside your apartment window. You almost jumped out of bed, blood pumping with excitement. You got ready, slipping on a dark purple silk dress with black tights and purple pumps, stuffing your cigarette case and pocketbook in your black handbag. You poured yourself a cup of tea, hurrying to get all your bags ready as you didn’t want to keep John waiting.

Right as eight o’clock arrived, you heard a knock on your door. It was John, smelling sweetly of cologne and wearing a freshly pressed black pinstripe three piece suit with a grey tie. His cap sat tilted on his head, and dangling from his lips was a cigar. He was a fucking vision to behold, and your head spun at the thought of the two hour car ride in close quarters that you were about to endure. The driver came in to take your bags, leaving John to walk you to the car. He held out his hand to help you step into the Bentley, your skin buzzing with electricity where his fingers touched yours. John closed the door, making his way to the other side and sliding into the leather interior while the driver finished putting the bags in the trunk and made his way to the driver’s seat, starting the engine and taking off.

John’s blue-grey eyes met yours as he puffed at his cigar, cracking the window slightly to let the smoke waft out. “You pack everything we need?” You subconsciously pressed your legs together, filthy images swirling through your brain as you managed to ignore them. “Yes, Mr. Shelby, I got the list you sent me for what to bring. Did you need anything other than that?”

John shook his head no, putting out his cigar in the ashtray. A comfortable silence settled over the two of you as the car rumbled along over the brick roads.

“What’s your favorite color?” You looked over at John in surprise. He must have understood your confusion as he added, “You asked what mine was. I want to know yours.”

“Red,” you replied, fumbling for a cigarette, and when finding one, striking a match to light it.

John’s eyes fixed on your dark red stained lips. “Red, aye?”

Your instincts got the better of you. “Is there a problem with that, Mr. Shelby?”

“Call me John,” he said, words muffled by the cigarette in his mouth that he was lighting. After he finished, he took a drag, fixing his eyes back on you. “And, no. The opposite, actually.”

You weren’t brave enough to ask what that meant, so you let silence take over once again. Maybe later, when you had had a few drinks in you. What the fuck were you doing?

Finally, the dirt roads underneath once again turned into cobblestone, and you knew you were in London by the smell and smoke that hovered over the city. The Bentley rolled to a stop in front of a massive factory building, stretching blocks long. You could hear the yells of the workers from inside the car. John reached for his gun, loading it and affixing it back into his holster.

“We’ve got a meeting first, then dinner. Driver’s going to drop off our bags at the hotel. C’mon sweetheart, and stay by me. Who knows what these fuckers are going to pull around here,” John said, opening the door and reaching his hand out for you to take. You blushed at the pet name, taking John’s hand as he quickly whisked you off the street and into the building, up a flight of stairs where two men directed the two of you into a meeting room with a large table and dark leather chairs. John sank into the chair at the head of the table, and you slid into the seat next to him, taking out a notebook. Before you had any time to even write the date, John’s hand was on your waist, pulling you close to him. Your skin prickled with goosebumps at the proximity.

“If anybody pulls a fucking gun, you get behind me. You understand?” You nodded, crossing your legs at the ankle as you tried to focus your thoughts on something other than how fucking amazing John smelled. John’s hand left your waist as the door opened, the men whom he was meeting with entering the room. The meeting was uneventful, John successfully closing the deal with these men, who you found out were the Chinese. The driver picked you both up out front, taking the two of you back to your hotel to get changed for what you found out was a French restaurant in London’s downtown. The hotel room was a suite with two rooms, one for you and the larger one for John. You decided to wear the short black dress with fringe along with black fluffy kitten heels, and when John walked out of his room, the first word out of his mouth was “Fuck.” Your cheeks blushed a bright pink as John’s eyes traveled down your body.

“You look amazing.” John held out his arm for you to grab, leading you into the car as you took off. It didn’t take long to reach the restaurant, passing through busy streets packed with people of opulence. As John held the door for you to walk in, you almost gasped in amazement at the massive gold chandelier that hung from the ceiling. The waiter led you and John to your table, and as John pulled out your chair for you and walked around the table to sit at his, you almost couldn’t believe you were here, let alone with John Shelby, one of the biggest and by your standards most certainly the most handsome gangsters in Birmingham. Yet, there he sat across from you, looking fucking delectable in a dark grey three-piece suit and black tie.

The dinner was amazing, time passing quickly as the two of you fell into conversation. John Shelby was funny, you realized, and at the heart of it all, sweet. Soon, a glass of wine turned into five, and the driver eventually dropped the two of you back off at the hotel, as the other customers had complained about the raucous laughing coming from your table. You burst into the room giggling, John following close behind, as the two of you flopped onto the velvet settee, knees and shoulders brushing.

“God, you’re fucking pretty,” John said, eyes locking with yours. Your jaw almost dropped as your cheeks turned pink. “What?”

“You heard me,” John said, lighting a cigarette. “You’re fucking pretty.”

You stared at him, alcohol fueling your confidence. “Then why don’t you do something about it?” The words spilled out of your mouth. John wasted no time in pressing his lips against yours roughly, picking you up and setting you on the bed. You moaned into his mouth as he pressed himself against you, feeling his cock hard against your lower stomach, earning a grunt from John as he ripped off your dress, sending buttons flying across the room. You opened your mouth in protest, but John beat you to it. “I’ll buy you three new ones, yeah?” He questioned before running his hands down your hips, a finger slipping underneath the waistband of your black panties. Goosebumps ran down your skin and John chuckled, pressing a kiss to your inner thigh.

“God, you look so pretty all spread out for me. Better than I fucking imagined,” he said, pulling your panties down your legs and rubbing his thumb in circles on your clit. Your body jolted in response. “John,” you panted. “Oh fuck John, please don’t tease me..”

John grinned up at you, pushing one finger in you slowly. “What do you want? Tell me, darling.”

“Your mouth, John, please,” you gasped, squirming for some sort of relief. John responded by licking slowly up your cunt, flicking his tongue in circles around your clit before returning his attention to your pussy, his right hand rubbing your clit. You cried out, back arching as you pushed against John’s mouth. You felt him growl in response, vibrations pulsing throughout your body and sending you over the edge and you came all over John’s face. You attempted to catch your breath as John stood with a boyish smirk, wiping the back of his mouth with his sleeve before discarding his clothes, his large cock standing at attention against his taught stomach muscles.

“God you taste good,” John rumbled, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “I think I’ll have you tomorrow for breakfast too,” he grinned. You laughed in response, John cutting that laugh short by running the head of his cock up and down your dripping cunt.

“Sir, please,” you whined, eyes widening when you realized what had just left your mouth. Before you could apologize, you felt John’s hand wrap around your throat.

“You going to be a good girl for me, hmm?” John’s blue eyes bored into yours.

“Yes, sir,” you whimpered, crying out as John entered you at a ridiculous pace, covering your mouth with his. He kissed like a starved man, hungry for everything you had to give, and you gave it gladly. John’s cock bumped up against your g spot with every thrust as he fucked you, your moans echoing throughout the hotel room.

“Your pussy is amazing,” John groaned as he fucked into you relentlessly. “Fucking mine now, yeah?”

You nodded, unable to form the proper words as John chuckled darkly. “Pretty little thing, can’t even talk when I’m fucking you this good, hm?” Your only reply was a moan as John gripped your throat tightly, causing you to see stars.

“That’s right, sweetheart, come all over my cock,” John crooned as you reached your release, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm. You cried out as John fucked you even harder, eyes locked with yours. “Mine,” John grunted, hips snapping flush with yours as he continued to thrust inside of you, your pussy squeezing around his cock as you neared your second orgasm.

“I want you to come in me, sir, please,” you begged, hands clawing at John’s back. John groaned in response, fucking you at the fastest pace he possibly could as your cries echoed off the walls before eventually releasing inside of you, falling onto the bed next you as the two of you caught your breath. John slung an arm around you, pulling you close to him as he locked his eyes with yours.

“I meant what I said, you know.” “What did you say?” You asked, brow furrowed with confusion.

“That you were pretty,” John said, sitting up to grab a cigarette and light it, his blue eyes glistening in the light of the fireplace. “I’ve thought about you more than I’d like to admit.”

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. “And I’m not just drunk,” John continued, eyes meeting yours again. “I think I’m in love.”

“Me too.” You couldn’t stop the words from coming from your mouth. John followed them with a deep kiss, pulling you on top of him.

“I’m gonna fuck you until the sun comes up,” John grinned as you laughed, covering your mouth with his.

[igotathingforvampires]

Aro Volturi N.S.F.W Alphabet

CANON DIVERGENT.

Info on Reader: Reader is an Elemental Gift user like Benjamin

CW/TW: a SLIGHT MENTION of assault but NO DETAIL AT ALL (as a SA survivor I do not use this lightly but I do like representation and not having the survivor be that cliche broken doll we end abusers here thank you)

How you two met:

You…..oh you. You’re standing with the Cullens wondering how the FUCK you got here.

Why am I here? What’s with this tiny little kid who can touch me and tell me things. Awe but she’s cute.

You’re just a bored Vampire who knows Carlisle and is Esme’s BFF.

You’re a nomad, and a badass one, see your gift is the Elements like Benjamin, it’s why Amun has his eye on you and is freaked out.

You and Benji are buddies now. Benjamin specializes in Earth and Water. You specialize in Fire and Air.

So now, here you are watching a bunch of cloaked baddies stomping towards you. But Carlisle and you have spoken frequently, the Volturi aren’t bad.

However, they are cautious.

And caution bred by fear is something you know to be wary of.

So you keep yourself a bit behind Carly. Waiting and watching.

The leader— that must be Aro you think, flings his hood back and suddenly you feel your entire chest clench up and a yank within yourself towards him. “Oh what the fuck.” You growl. Glancing UP at the Old Gods you couldn’t help but snap at them “ARE YOU ALL KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?! HIM?!”

The platinum haired man barked angrily, “who dares?!”

Aro is too busy glancing at his brother Marcus who’s smiling. He nods at Aro and huffs a bit of a sigh.

The raven haired man turns ever so slowly, casting his red gaze over the crowd and it falls to Carlisle. “Carly.”

“Aro?”

“Who is that behind you.” Aro can feel his chest hurt like a chain is being pulled.

Carlisle looks confused and glances behind him where you are shaking your head face palming—looking embarrassed.

Edward and Bella are utterly confused, before Edward listens to Aro’s and your thoughts and gets a look of disgust, “REALLY.” He barks.

You feel the rage of a thousand suns consume you. “I CAN’T PICK IT YA KNOW AND HEY WHADDAYA MEAN REALLY —ASSHOLE DON’T TALK ABOUT MY MATE LIKE THAT!”

The entire field is utterly still as you’re heaving, standing on your tip toes in front of the bronze haired vampire pointing at Edwards cringing face, “but it’s—“ he starts, you let out a growl and sparks fly off you.

Edward shuts up.

“I will light your ass on fire.” You whisper hiss.

The Volturi are just tilting their heads like WTF.

Marcus is trying not to laugh, Caius has just become stunned glancing between his brother and the woman across the battlefield.

Aro is getting GIDDY.

“And who is the girl.” He asks.

You turn, your hips swinging with attitude and your arms crossing as you scoff. “Psh, get a load of this Mother fucker,” you whisper to yourself glaring across the expanse of space. “HEY. I have a name.”

------

-----

His First Impression:

Of course my mate swears like a sailor.

Is Aro’s first thought.

His next thought is that you’re awful adorable. Awe so lithe and cute and— Much too … hm, much too adorable to be mine I would think how In the —a violent wind kicks up and flames burst out from your body enveloping your form as you take a few steps forward.

Ah there it is.

“You wanna ask me my name— darling.” You smile wide at him.

“Of course,” his purr is laced with annoyance, but he’s far too intrigued. “Who might you be?”

“I’m y/n. No last name, my parents were assholes.” You shrug. “So, we doing this trial or we figuring the whole—“ you wave your hand between the gaping maw of land between you two, “bond thing.”

Aro pauses, a twitch on his lips, “after the proceedings cara mia.”

“Ooo… love me a man that speaks Italian—” You smirk, raising a brow and cock your head to the side.

Aro makes a stifled choked off growl as his eyes go black— thank God he lost the ability to blush as arousal slammed into him like a freight train.

You’re obviously annoyed, and have as Caius mutters ‘more balls than a Christmas tree’ and you are ready for this trial to be over.

Frankly so is Aro he wants to drag you back to Volterra and bring you to heel.

Not that he thinks that’s going to happen.

But he loves playing with fire. And you’re full of it.

He watches you glance at the Cullens and the half-breed. “Alright Nessie come on let’s show him what you can do kiddo.” You scoop the girl up and you and the Cullens walk over with Jake behind you.

-----

-----

When does he know of his feelings?

When within reaching distance you set Renessme down and pat her head, “okay tiny Loch Ness, say hello.”

Bella is panicking, but she trusts you it seems, she better, you have no qualms frying— sans mate— every vampire here. They do their little song and dance. Aro tries to talk about the danger and you feel your temper boil over.

“Darling.” You croon taking a step forward with a sharp but soft smile.

You remind him of a lioness, purring softly but ready to tear into him with one movement.

He raises a brow; you are in 6 inch heels putting you nose to nose with him. “Yes carissima?” He breathes deep and nearly groans out loud, you smell so good, like spring and a heady feminine scent like perfume edged in lilacs and lavender.

“Could you pretty pretty pretty please just keep an eye on little Nessie— I hate to tell you but she’s quite important to me and I can assure you she fits in with humans better than the Cullens do.”

“And if I don’t.”

You let flames dance in your gaze. “I’ll roast everyone here except your brothers and their mates and make you start the fuck over without me.”

Aro’s done.

Cupid has struck him in his dead heart.

He’s never been more terrified or aroused or enraged at once at your dulcet threat purred from such sweet lips.

He wants to grip you by your hair to him, pick you up and haul you to somewhere private and teach you a lesson.

He wants to fight you. And it’s quite clear you’re ready to rumble, though he’s not sure you’d let him win. Or that it wouldn’t end up tangling in a bed somewhere on fire. That’s fine too.

A manic grin spreads across his face, eyes going pitch black as he snatches you up by the waist and hauls you closer loving the startled look in your eyes settling into something dark and wanting. “And if I agree?”

The brothers roll their eyes.

Go figure you’d be as bat shit as he is.

“I’ll leave with you right now.” You give him THAT look matching his almost mad grin.

A low purr echos from him making Bella clap her hands over Nessie’s ears. “Una ragazza così meravigliosa, credo che mi piaccia come funziona la tua mente.” Such a wonderful girl, I think I like how your mind works.

But your plans to drag your mate off end as Alice shows up with her witness right when he’s about to whisk you off for some obvious adult time.

Both of you sigh put out and exasperated.

Yes you just about ended an entire potential threat with batting pretty eyes and coaxing the leader of the Volturi into some fun.

But now that’s ruined because of the psychic. Alice is looking rather embarrassed as the proceedings go. Given that she probably saw how everything was about to go down.

Aro can sense you’re as annoyed as he is, that and you’re not leaving his side. And you don’t mind touching him but you’re not because oh yeah he needs to focus. But oh he can see your hand twitching towards his own.

He can easily turn his gift off and so he does and grips your hand, quickly jerking you to his side.

Electricity lights along your skin at the contact and both of you jolt a moment and glance sideways looking amused.

This was going to be fun.

——

——

How’d you end up with the Volturi?

Alice and her witnesses ease their concerns about Nessie. Aro placates the Volturi as you linger back behind him a bit. Everyone just poof! Vanishes.

“So ah, can we get my stuff first before you whisk me off around the world?” You ask sweetly.

Aro’s a bit startled, “you wish to leave already?”

You realize he would be willing to stay for a bit and let you acclimate.

“Nah where you go I fucking go, come on baby. Let’s get the fuck outta dodge.” You give him a teasing shove as you walk by making Carlisle’s coven silently shake in mirth at his surprised expression.

Carlisle murmurs, “Good luck Aro.”

“Fuck off Carly.” The King growls back before following you.

That’s all they wrote.

You were in. And you made yourself at home quite easily.

Jane and Alec adore you— you saw them and just SQUEEd. “OMG they’re so DEADLY but so CUTE!”

Jane wasn’t quite sure what to do with you picking her UP and hugging her nuzzling your nose to her cheek, “she’s just a tiny tot of doom I adore it! We’re going to burn the SHIT outta people.”

Alec just sat starry eyed as you ruffled his hair, “I know boys don’t like being picked up.”

Jane had become a koala on you. And you didn’t mind.

Well. You’re Mama now. Aro couldn’t be more pleased as you continue to help develop their skills trying things outside of the box.

See, that’s also a sort of talent you have— you can help people learn how to use their gifts because of how you think. Not a gift per say, but certainly useful.

Jane it turns out can utilize the fire element.

Alec can utilize air.

With you knowing both you’re easily able to teach Alec how to hone his targets and even allow his gift to POP UP near someone rather than from his hands.

Jane is capable of setting shit on fire now.

Aro isn’t sure if he’s proud or worried.

Bit of both. But you are STERN with their use of powers. And when Jane set Felix’s foot on fire she was forced to shine everyone’s shoes in the Volturi in the afternoon and write 200,000 times at HUMAN PACE. “We do not light family on fire.”

She never did it again.

The inner coven loves you. Caius and you are besties Marcus is like a big brother always doting on you. Athenadora and Sulpricia are of course still together as companions, and don’t worry about his ex wife— they were on the rocks she’s ecstatic someone else can keep him in line.

The coven instantly takes to you, in fact you’re now basically Mother to everyone. Scolding, teaching, comforting, you do it all. But you’re also a leader and a ruthless one at that.

A perfect fit Aro thinks.

——

——

How’d he deal with his emotions?

You are driving Aro FUCKING CRAZY.

Literally mad.

You know how to push his buttons and you are not one to do as told. So for him, he who has anyone bending to his will to see you just cock a brow at him and laugh “awe.”

He wants to choke you half to death.

You are a Queen. He tells himself. It’s to be expected that you’d challenge him.

Sulpricia finds it HILARIOUS and you two are besties. Fuck that’s all he needs. She is ever so encouraging of your independence.

He often finds himself in Sulpricia’s study pacing rampantly, “what am I going to do with her?”

“You know you like it.” Sully says lounging back on her couch. “If you didn’t you wouldn’t be so utterly ass over tea kettle.”

Aro is not good with his emotions when it comes to jealousy. And he is JEALOUS.

You’re perfect to him, utterly beautiful, you are the sun and he Icarus stupidly flying as high as he can towards you in hopes to reach the light.

You’re also inclined to let him touch you whenever you want to express things without using words— and you’ve learned to let him speak to you telepathically as well.

So often you just sit with your pinkies touching on a couch and have back and forth silently except for the occasional twitch on your lips at a humorous comment.

You’ve managed to make him huff a laugh occasionally.

But he is utterly posessive. He does not like it when men stare too long, admiring is one thing, but nothing escapes Aro.

So when a lower guard had been in trouble for an infraction and when you had disciplined him the utter disrespect for a concubine replacement was across Aro’s mind and…welll—

Guard died.

You had just looked startled and gave a ‘oh well’ kinda shrug before touching ARo’s hand. Feel better baby?

Yes you called him baby in private, so modern, and he would NEVER admit he loved it. Baby, darling, love, honey, the list went on and each one twisted his insides into ribbons of absolute adoration.

You had actually taken to the bond so well Marcus had informed him that it was practically cemented.

His only hang up was himself.

——

——

Who does he ask for help?

Didyme is no longer there— his dear sister, a deep sorrow as he was accidentally responsible for her death.

Marcus however is always there to be the voice of reason, and he sits Aro down and listens to his brother spill his guts. Aro is terrified, he is well aware he is THE monster that makes OTHER monsters keep in line.

But for you to look at him like that? He could never bear it. His heart would break.

Marcus sighs, “Aro come here.” He drags his brother to the training grounds.

Where Aro get’s to see his mate literally tear apart the entire guard with blades…. Did his eyes deceive him— were those made from vampire ash and fangs?!

You pause your onslaught, “oh hi darling!” You prance over and smile, “like them? My witch-smith friend made them for me! Fucking bastards kept coming for me after awhile and ya know I just hate the idea of wasting shit.”

Marcus glanced at Aro and gave him a I told you so.

“Everything okay?” You ask looking concerned. You are dragging him along as he partially willingly let’s you take him to his sister’s gardens. “What’s wrong?”

And so, he exhales and does the one thing he’s never done with his gift.

He touches your hand and shows you his own thoughts.

He expects your recoil. Expects you to shun him. Expects your hatred and braces himself for it.

You gasp and when he’s about to drag his hand away and you grip him tighter. “No don’t…let me…” and so you watch— thousands of years of memories over the course of a week or two. Asking silent questions as the images play, getting silent answers in return.

And so, in return, you show him your human life— a life that had been riddled with abusers, torment and lack of love, the iron in your spine that had solidified your creation when you had dragged yourself from an open alley way at dawn into the sewer system after being left to die being drained by a nomad after a brutal assault. You shared with him that it had taken a lot for you to even move after what had happened.

Esme had found you.

And so your friends made sure you were okay even if you didn’t follow their diet.

You both spend time going over your pasts, Aro gently asking questions and you doing the same to answer as best you could.

It was why Rosalie and you got along so well, there were some experiences one could only understand by going through it. And you both had learned how to cope with the trauma you had.

Aro is patient, both of you taking time to feel through each others wounds, taking time to rework into each others personal space.

Marcus is stunned to tell Aro that the bond is nigh unbreakable after this exchange.

The Kings magically -coughs- big brother Marcus loses his shit finding out and Caius leads the search party with Demetri— cough cough— find the nomad and he’s now in a box limb free 15 feet below the dungeon with a tube connecting him to the surface, his tongue removed and he only gets blood once a year. *Jane lit them on fire multiple times to practice her accuracy and aim*

You find out of course, and smile through the dry sobs as all three embrace you like a big protective group hug. For the first time in a very long time, it’s safe.

Truly safe.

——

——

What happens when he tells you?

Aro is a man of few words, and honestly not much is needed between you two with the ability to go back and forth with his gift.

So in the middle of a walk in Didyme’s gardens he merely grabs your hand gently and kisses the top of your fingers.

And you’re flooded with his emotions.

The warmth and tenderness and absolute adoration is almost enough to restart your dead heart as venom pools in your eyes. “Aro…”

He loves you, loves you more than his own life, would give anything for you to make you smile.

This isn’t the love that is complacent, to just sit idle and rust away, he wants to chase you for eternity, whatever it takes to keep you at his side.

And you flood him right back— lowering the barriers you had and after a moment he merely leans down and presses his forehead to your own, giving the two of you time to just bask in the warmth of affection that’s swirling back and forth akin to the waves of the tide under the moon and sun at twilight.

——

——

First Kiss?

The leaders of Volterra were in the throne room, the Queens having their own thrones behind their husbands but visible carved in different woods to represent their personalities with different intricate features much like the brother’s thrones holding different crowning points but all the same color.

Your own is the same color as Aro’s throne, but mingled with mahogany accents. Ruby red stones slotted at the top with a crescent moon and sun carving emboldened with gold spiked halo.

Caius' mate's throne is a pale color, affixed with branches and beautiful earth like tones, complimenting her grounded nature.

Marcus’ Witch Mate is merely embellished in a ash throne, deep red almost black gems and the symbol for the overall witch and vampire alliance above her throne.

With all three positions of Queen in Volterra taken up by a true mate, it is the most stable the Volturi have been in several millennia.

But that day in particular was rough, there were a few traitors that had been brought forward— and one of them had managed to get loose from Felix as Aro had been gaining information lunging for the King’s throat.

You moved so fast no one even saw you as you streaked forward like a ghost and lobbed the vampire’s head off holding a blade made of vampire teeth expertly with an animalistic snarl.

You had positioned yourself in front of Aro, crouched, blade poised and your eyes wide and wild, teeth flashing with a dangerous snarl.

Marcus’ witch had already shielded Aro but paused when she saw how enraged you were. Athena and Sulpricia had faltered, Caius looked utterly proud.

You spun round, dropping your blade— knowing Felix and the others had everything in hand as Aro had reached for you, the two of you locked in an embrace, his hands holding your face still as your own hands grasped his wrists. Foreheads pressed together—

The coven was used to this, a private conversation but you could feel the utter terror that had gone through him when he saw you out of the corner of his eye. If anything had happened to you—he was almost angry at you.

But he could easily sense the rage that had consumed you at the thought of someone hurting him. Despite knowing the guard and Jane would Never allow it, your instincts had taken over.

No one would ever take from you again.

And you had been frightened.

Behind that rage when he got past it was utter fear that he’d be gone and you’d be all alone again all the tender memories would be the last you’d have of him as you gave a dry sob before the venom dropped from your eyes— a true show of vampiric emotion that was a rarity.

“Carissima, no. I’ll not leave you that easily.” He murmured and not giving a flying fuck about anyone in the room kissed you full on the mouth gathering you up in a tight embrace.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered half broken against his mouth. “I’m sorry-“

“I know I know, shhh cara mia shhh,” gathering you up he merely flitted out of the room leaving the others to deal with the issue.

Tons of snuggles. He had bundled you up to him in his private rooms and merely kept your hands together enjoying the shared emotions knowing the other was close and safe.

Aro knew exactly how to calm you, he merely showed you all his favorite memories, of the coven, of his travels, the antics his brother’s got up to. He replayed the moment he first saw you.

That always made you laugh of course she swears like a sailor.

——

——

First Time?

It’s in an elevator.

Okay so here’s the thing. The Volturi have these massive events, and your official coronation happens at one of these.

Aro is so proud.

And so fucking jealous as you are danced across the floor with other vampires— who are oh so respectful and as they should be as Aro watches from the upper floor like an angel of death.

You look stunning, your smile lighting up the entire ballroom, friends from near and far are there— even then Cullens��� God bless Carly he even had animal blood brought for him.

You’re dancing around with Nessie laughing and watching the girl child giggle like a fiend before handing her off to the Shifter Aro hated the smell but it was what it was.

Over the course of the evening he was getting awful tired of sharing you. And as the evening wound down to an end you both were just going to take the elevator back up to the private rooms as the Ballroom was on the top floor of Volterra.

The energy crackled in the small space and you both glanced at one another. It was like a short fuse had been lit on a stick of dynamite.

We’re so not doing this in an elevator are we?

You didn’t realize you had said it out loud even as you both gravitated towards one another and his hands tangled into your hair sending gold pins flying to the ground as his mouth found yours and you let out a deep moan as his tongue swiped your lips before you happily opened them.

“We’re going to be patient. Cara mia. ” He said sternly more to himself than you— then groaned when your teeth tugged gently on his bottom lip knowing it drove him crazy. “Sarai la mia morte. Sulla mia tomba scriveranno 'ha giocato con il fuoco ed è perito felicemente’” his voice became heated as his hands moved over your form, “non mi importa più, vieni da me mia fiamma, brucia con me.” You will be my death. On my grave they will write 'he played with fire and perished happily'. I don't care anymore, come to me my flame, burn with me.

His hands were gripping your backside and hauling you up, pressing himself firmly between your thighs before grinding against you. But when his teeth scraped your neck your brain shorted out—

“Oh for gods sake Aro just fuck me already—” your hands were scrabbling at his waist coat and shirt pleased how easily the buttons pinged off the walls of the elevator.

Your mate let out a pleased noise, one that was utterly inhuman when your hands tangled into his raven locks and knocked the golden V pin to the floor allowing the ocean and pomegranate scent of his to curtain you from the world as he bent his head down and kissed you as if it were the last thing he would get to do just then. Right before he smacked his hand against the emergency stop button jolting the ride to the private floor still.

If you thought his kisses were something to be swooning over— because he always knew what you needed.

Well his gift extends to much and he is in tune with it.

Your mind is his favorite place to be, and he brutally uses what he knows to his advantage as his fingers skim up your legs flinging your skirt over your thighs to teasingly grind himself against you till you’re almost clawing at him half feral.

“My pretty little mate—“ he croons at you, “you looked so beautiful cara mia,” kissing down your throat before biting marks into your flesh licking them before continuing on as his teeth jerk the fabric of your bodice and sleeves off not even bothering with his hands. “E tu sei tutto mio, cazzo.” And you’re all fucking mine.

You were busy molding your hands against his form, loving how it was just ratcheting up his half mad with desire motions, twitchy, greedy, desperate to touch, “What was it you joked about that one time?” He was referring to a memory with your best friends over drinks.

You gulped and shivered a bit. “I believe I said sometimes a girl just wants to ahem— get slammed to a wall and fucked stupid?”

He smirked as his hands tore fabric off you letting his fingers to glide along your skin, allowing your own to do the same and showing you know exactly what he liked through the bond of touch.

If you’d been human the air would have left your lungs as he pressed his body tight to your own, pinning you in place letting you feel what you did to him, the hard length of his cock pressed into your belly. “What do you say we take care of that, hm?”

You’re speaking in tongues before he even takes you fully, and roughly, there’s no slow tender love making and frankly you’re just glad for it.

His wild smile sliding into a predatory proud smirk when you’re just a mess; whining at him, begging, pleading, twitching against him and oh you’re just so pretty when at his mercy.

He literally has the tongue of the devil.

“Did I finally break you little one?” He croons despite his rough movements sending you into another shockwave of bliss as your nails make claw marks in the wall.

Fuck he had— you’ll do anything if he’ll just continue.

Your submission is like a drug, he’s mad on it, hands digging against you, making small fissures of cracks along your hips that make you groan gleeful as you push closer for more of his touches.

“That’s right bambi, give me everything.”

That’s all you hear before he’s fucking you into the wall of the elevator, sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck just to relish in the pain and pleasure filled noises that escape from you as you beg for more, more, just please give more it’s all you want.

“My good bambi.” He growls as he begins it all over again, rumbling in your ear as your try to escape the onslaught of sensations— but happy you can’t as his grip has you immovable. “You’re not escaping me just yet.”

You’re both a mess, not that either of you care. Adjusting yourselves as best you can—

You’re lucky his private rooms are close and he simply carries you and flits you both into his rooms; you both end up continuing what was started.

——

——

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He is a touch telepath, he knows exactly what you need.

But he also surprises you with what you didn’t even know you needed.

Snuggles, so many snuggles— Aro is not a tactile person— but with you?

Forget it.

He’s practically melting into your form and trying to fuse himself to you.

Massages, nuzzling your hair, biting.

Lots of biting— but not hard bites, love bites. Pressing his teeth to your skin to leave little imprints that he just can’t get over. You always poke fun at him for it.

Plus let’s face it.

Bite = Love.

He and Caius are on one mind with that.

He also took a note from Marcus and you both enjoy the heat of the baths together after a particularly long rough romp.

Which turns into a bath romp.

Because ahem *REASONS*

“I’m King I don’t need a reason to have you— now come here.” He’ll huff imperiously when you giggle at him as he drags you close into his embrace kissing you.

Okay he lies.

You looked too pretty in the bath.

Aro can’t help himself. That’s the reason.

——

——

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He is SHOOK when you tell him your favorite thing about him is his hands. You never feel misunderstood.

Even in the rare fights you simply huff and reach out to him, wiggling your fingers with a pleading glance; or if he won’t take your hand you’ll walk over sit in his lap and headbutt your forehead to his like an angry cat.

But usually Aro will take your hand and you both have a deep understanding of where you’re both coming from.

After a few moments it’s settled.

You kiss his hands, he knows you love how he plays you like a finely tuned instrument when alone.

Love when he delves his fingers into your hair and cradles you close even if you’re in the throne room— he’s the fucking king he can do what he likes damn it.

But Aro is startled by this— everyone hates touching him even though he can control his gift, they seem to think that— aside from his brothers and sister in laws— that he just loves to dive into people’s minds for funsies.

No it’s awful. Plain awful. He can barely stand his own mind why would he want to traverse someone else’s?

But that brings us to what he likes about you— he LOVES your head space. When he’s stressed it’s his favorite place to be because you have a vivid imagination, as a writer as well you show him stories you’ve thought of and worlds you’ve created with vivid detail. He finds it quite amusing to use watch your thoughts too on a daily, you like it simply because he’s close.

But aside from that it’s you.

Just You.

Just ALL of you.

He can’t pick don’t make the man pick, he would just keep you near him for eternity which you seem to have no issues with.

———

———

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically…I am a disgusting person…)

He is quite a posessive person.

Two Words:

Breeding Kink

You’re his and his alone, so the idea of ah— claiming you that way just sends him off into the ether.

The fact that you both have a breeding kink and literally can’t have kids is a GREAT thing because you’ve literally sat there a absolute mess after round five and thought out loud as he tenderly cleans you up, “shit thank god we can’t reproduce because I am 100% sure that’d have knocked my ass up—” which has had him shaking in mirth having to pause to control himself after a few moments.

Beg him for it.

Make that whining needy noise in the back of your throat at him for him to finally give you what you need.

He’ll just lose it, pin you by the throat and well— you’ve broken a few beds this way.

He has no shame.

Just glances at the bed, hits speed dial to the furniture store and orders a new one.

His only other favorite thing with C as he soon found out from O (you’ll see) was he adores when you swallow down everything he gives you. That’s got him rumbling in Italian about what a good girl you are and how much you please him.

———

———

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He’s a MASSIVE Pleasure Dom. And when I say Dom.

HE GOT DOM ENERGY.

With very mild Sadistic tendencies. (Thanks a lot Caius ya pervy fucker)

However he is also a very sincere soft streak when you’re a very good pet.

He picked up pet play from his sadistic brother hearing him call his amore Bunny. One day down the rabbit hole that is Google and he was hooked.

But he calls you Bambi. It’s an Italian term for baby-girl.

It also works because you become like a damn deer in the headlights when he pulls the Dominant voice on you.

It thrums with a low purr and has the capability to just make your brain go wait what?

HE’S A FUCKING SWITCH.

You had been pissed as shit at him. “I don’t know whether I want to strangle you or fuck you to death!” You paused because you had literally throat pinned him to the wall, the stone crumbling beneath him, feeling the muscles of his neck working as he swallowed nervously.

You were about to let go but saw his eyes had gone totally black and expectant and startled but excited.

He was just as fucking confused as you both calculated in a matter of seconds what had happened.

You were first to catch on. “Oh?….OH...….oooooohhhhhhh ….. you….you son of a….” You sputtered as he got a sly grin, “you can’t just look at me like— you are so ill behaved!!”

He wasn’t far behind and raised a black brow at you looking mischievous, “…..and what are you going to do about it mia regina?”

Next thing he knew he was face planted on his office floor with your boot pressed on his cheek making him groan low. “Gonna make you regret mouthing off to me is what I’m going to do my Aro.”

Edge him. Don’t let him touch you all day till he begs. He loves when you exert your authority especially on him? Oh forget it.

Queen Slay.

Literally you are his Queen and you are the only one who get’s to fucking tell him what to do.

And you ruthlessly do so when he’s in the mood. All you hear is “mia regina?” He’ll croon at you, as your hand comes up and drags him to you by his tie.

“would you like to be of service to me Aro?”

Magic words. He’s done, let him have you and he will literally just focus on your pleasure.

Worship Kink.

You had dropped to your knees at his desk and laid your head in his lap and he almost lost his god damn mind. You purred at him, “il mio maestro”.

Aro .exe has stopped fucking working.

———

———

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Thanks to the tactile telepathy as well as the fact that he and his brothers have slept their way through history, Aro is a very mixed lover.

When I say greedy as a lover, he wants your pleasure for himself. And will literally drive you to it till you’re sobbing for mercy.

He has none.

But he does take pity on you when he knows you’re truly at your limit with touch.

You weren’t inexperienced but his own experience blew yours out of the damn water. Can literally have you on the edge in mere minuets. And is SMUG about it.

Fucking smug bastard just watching you with that smirk on his face and a ‘well?’ Kinda expression.

You have to beg if you want it.

You have to plead, you have to let him hear you or he’ll just keep going and I quote ‘hmmm I can’t hear you cara mia, you’re being so quiet you know that makes me want to fuck you harder, come now, let me hear you— don’t make me have to drag it from you baby girl. You know I love to hear your sweet sounds.”

Could probably kill you if you weren’t already dead with what he can do with his hands.

His tongue is even better.

When asked which you preferred you had just panted desperately after a hard orgasm, “any. All. Both. God just…holy fuck.”

He cracked up over that. “My poor baby I broke her.”

————

————

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Loves having you in his lap.

Prefers to see your face and eyes, seems to need it.

But occasionally he just loves gripping your neck from behind and feeling you gasp against his grip as he slams into you roughly.

Adores anything that has you clinging onto him for dear life.

Likes being in a position to mark you. Favorite thing ever.

You had once tested his patience (willfully hoping for this outcome) a bit too much and he had pinned you completely immobile to the desk of his office and fucked you within an inch of your immortal life gagging you with his black tie.

“you just have to test me don’t you mia regina?” He had growled in your ear leaning over you, his hand crunching the ornate wood to splinters as you keened and whined for him to keep going. “Such a ill behaved thing you are, should just keep you here like this for when I please hm?”

He was not joking, you were kept there quite happily under his desk sitting at his feet your head on his lap waiting and absolutely willing.

He could feel your hands grip his thighs, “quit that I know what you’re trying to do and it’s not going to work—“ his voice teetered off in a guttural growl as he looked down.

You were biting his shirt looking up at him already nudging yourself between his thighs your teeth digging into his trouser zipper and tugging down.

his hands were gripping your hair jerking you up to kiss him deep, a growl against your lips, “Fucking damn it— come here.”

When you can get him to swear which is rare— yeah…

He didn’t exactly sound angry.

But he sure fucked you like he was though.

“This is what you were after hm? You brat!” A harsh laugh as he pinned you down a bit harder, “fine then I should ensure you’re good….and….sated…shouldn’t I bambi?”

———

———

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Very sincere.

Teasing but only in a very sexual way.

Borders on humiliation but he respects you too much.

Very serious though when he focuses on you.

He’s focusing on all the sensations you’re sending him, letting you know what he’s feeling as well which just sets you into the damn ether.

———

———

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

It’s ARO.

The man is vain.

The man is neat.

Clean and pristine.

He’d give a regal huff of annoyance, “I am not a heathen darling.”

———

———

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Ohhh you wouldn’t know it but he’s such a god damn romantic.

He is. And he MAKES time for you. The schedules are changed so you have time together more often— something that was never done before.

Operas, romantic walks out in Volterra at night.

Sightseeing.

Your favorite was your trip to Germany in the winter with a big cozy cottage and a big fire and lots of bedding to ahem— destroy.

Aro has penguin brain.

He brings you small gifts that made him think of you— you have a bracelet that has special charms he had custom made for you, a lochness monster for when you met, a castle obviously for Volterra, a doe, different tiny items that speckled through your life, each one means something— you hardly ever take it off.

You have a collection of very sparkly stones in many jars that he found on his missions.

They are actually gemstones— insert eye roll— they set off pretty prisms through your shared rooms.

“Aren’t you going to make jewelry of them?” Aro asks.

“No darling they are perfect just as they are.” You smile.

Aro actually has the literal voice of a damn angel.

He sings to you in Italian, soft dulcet sweet tones and dances you around your rooms teasing you relentlessly.

Aro writes beautiful poetry. He will at least write one every few months when inspiration comes to him.

You have your own private box at the opera house. As well as being allowed to fund artists across the world, you’ve found incredible talent on broadway and other venues.

Flowers. Aro ensures care for a private greenhouse for you on the roof, each flower has a meaning, and they all bloom year round given the proper temperatures on the greenhouse. “Why would I send you flowers when they die so easily.” He asks kissing your cheek as you smile over the new blooms. “This is everlasting, much more fitting.” He muses.

All his poetry is in a beautiful book Caius got you for your birthday.

———

———

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Why would he do that when he has you?

He is a patient man.

He can wait.

And he has pristine control over himself.

He is too old for pre-pubescent raging hormone crap.

But he will legit melt for you if you do it for him. Prefers it slow, enjoying your touch and loves to watch as you take instruction.

You’re such a good girl for him.

————

———

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Aro is a kinky bastard.

MASSIVE Pleasure Dom.

Worship Kink.

Edging.

Controlling Orgasms *you don’t get to come till he gives permission*

Collaring *your Volturi necklace is LITERALLY on a collar*

Overstimulation. *his gift allows him to know when you’re pushed to hard and when you can take a bit more. When you’re craving that over stimulus, he’ll give it happily. Knowing he can turn you into a babbling speaking in tongues, drooling, eyes rolling back mess just— just— GAH.*

Breeding Kink *Aro has a true breeding kink, ask him to fill you up beg him for it and he’s going to lose his mind.*

Gagging. *he loves to gag you, but also loves being choked by you or you grabbing onto his tie.

Wax Play *you’re a fire elemental user, bringing candles into play is just oh it’s nice. * Prefers to have it done TO him. Your air element gift also allows you to cool the wax quickly and give new sensations.

————

———

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Aro is private, he prefers somewhere comfortable to take his sweet time with you.

Rooms Private, hotel, somewhere he can just lavish you and enjoy everything you can give him.

He’d rather take the time to find a nice comfy setting.

But every blue moon— he’ll just look at you in that specific dress molding to your thighs.

He will drag you into an alley way and just rail the shit out of you keeping you quiet with a firm grip over your mouth as he hisses the dirtiest things in your ear.

You two once had a quick rendezvous in a changing room at a theatre. -shrug- it was empty oh well.

———

———

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

“Master?” You bat your eyes at him

His nostrils flare as he breathes in and just knows exactly what you want and you smell so fucking good.

The tone you use.

He knows. You want him. That’s it.

Unless it’s a trial— and DO NOT DO THIS BEFORE TRIAL.

And if you happen to when he takes your hand send him your fantasies after seeing him standing there all regal and watching his mouth form syllables so well and how much better it’ll be with his mouth— ahem— busy somewhere else.

He will be so mad at you.

He’s glaring at you behind a mask of calm and you can feel the fucking tremor in his limbs.

You just bat your eyes innocently at him and smile.

His face: you’re in SO MUCH trouble.

Brat energy??? During Trial?!??! Now is that the time to give brat energy!!???

Oh. Oh. oh you are so in trouble. When he gets done with ripping some poor idiots head off— okay not really they broke the rules— stalks over to you; grabs you by your oh so pretty collar, “come with me bambi.”

And just pulls you along to your rooms with you giggling the whole way and practically prancing behind him like a— well like a doe prancing into a lions den.

He’s tossed you over his shoulder once and just flitted out of the rooms into your private chambers, hurling you onto the bed before ripping into your clothing. “You best be ready for your punishment.”

“Oooohhhhhh absolutly master.”

“that’s my girl.”

The coven just rolls their eyes. Aro is less manic with you there and you surprisingly bring ease to the coven— so ya know what if that’s what does it whatever.

————

————

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Humiliation. No.

Impact play is one thing, but to intentionally hurt you no.

If he does impact play one hand is always touching you to ensure you’re okay.

————

———

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Giving? The man has a wicked tongue.

His oral game is LEGIT.

Will have you in a puddle of twitching ecstasy in mere moments of teasing because he knows where to touch and that’s not just his tongue but his hands.

Will kiss you all over before even getting to the ahem— final destination.

You’re either ready to combust or ready to strangle him when he finally just begins to devour you.

Eats pussy like a man starved but has all the time to enjoy.

Smug as Fuck.

Expect him to just watch you as you’re coming back down from the absolute height he threw you up to and glaring down at his smug grin as he waits before beginning all over again.

Will go all night if you’ve been ill behaved.

Your record is 20 before you BEGGED for a break.

He finally took pity and gave you a warm bubble bath and snuggles and praises.

It wasn’t that he didn’t like receiving, however it was more just a “hm, that’s nice—“

But with you.

Especially when you had decided to walk into his office, lay your head in his lap as you had sat yourself under his desk so he could work while he played with your hair (you have a comfy cushion there who was he to argue if that was the best way to be close and he could get work done??!!)

But his work was abruptly halted when you had nuzzled his cock through his trousers dragging your mouth wide as he became painfully hard in record time.

“what is it you think you’re doing bambi?” He purred looking oh so curious.

“Nothing.” You muffled around him as your teeth found his zipper and trouser buttons with a rather feral sound.

Upon finding out you had no gag reflex and having your nose buried in his pelvis as you moaned around him he was done for and he didn’t even care.

Work was forgotten.

Loves when you pleasure him, but of course has to be in control for the most part.

Buries his hands into your hair and loves throat fucking you, praising you the entire time. “What a good thing you don’t need to breathe dolcezza.”

You had hummed around him ecstatically.

The reward for this is always drool worthy.

Play with yourself as you do and let him see you do so keeping your clothing out of the way and you’ll have him break finally, that cool haughty composure cracking as his gaze goes just utterly uncontrollably wild, his hips moving a bit harder.

————

———

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

You both fuck rough.

But you both also love the slow and sensual moments too.

Especially if you have the time to just drown in one another.

It just depends on the situation.

Rough And Fast:

Slow and Sensual is how it usually starts off, he’s so attentive, so soft and cherishes you, that is till you growl at him for more and he has of course no other option but to give you what he wants.

You’re his queen after all what kind of mate would he be if he didn’t give in?

But has today been exceedingly trying for either of you?

Or is your mate quite amped up from a particularly rough trial?

You’ve been pestering him haven’t you? Hmmm.. yeah buckle up.

You’re in trouble and therefore need to relearn where your place is— it’s in your bed, beneath him losing your mind out of pleasure.

And he is all too happy to provide that lesson if you seem to forget.

You try to forget often. You damn brat.

Slow and Sensual

However sometimes he just wants to be gentle. And frankly so do you, you want to just bask in the bond you have and slowly explore all over again despite knowing you have memorized one another to heart by now.

Doesn’t matter, you still find things that surprise you, things that make you smile.

Places that when touched cause a jolt— well that’s new.

“I could spend my entire life mapping out your body carissima.”

“that’s an awful long time in bed.”

Aro would just smirk kissing down your sternum, “oh what a pity— I suppose my brothers shall have to cover for me hm?” Bite marks being pressed into your flesh, “I plan on leaving so many of these that I forget where they are so I can find them later.”

“Such an evil overlord.” But you’re giddy, he’s going to make your entire world tilt again with those slow careful hands of his and you’re going to enjoy every second of it.

———

———

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You’d be surprised that such a patient man could be so damn impatient for you.

He’s not as impatient as Caius but not AS patient as Marcus.

So it’s a toss up when he’s twitchy during trials and catches a glimpse of you floating down the hallway in all your grandure and he mentally tosses a coin.

Nope he can’t take it that flash of leg just set him off.

“Excuse me I do belive I remembered something that needs my attention.”

The others just inwardly roll their eyes.

Next thing you know you’re gagged by his tie in his office pinned over the desk with his teeth buried in your neck and frankly you expected this you wore that damn skirt with the slit in it to tease him.

Seeing this just makes him let out a feral noise and a laugh at the end, “oh you planned that hm?” He nibbles the outer shell of your ear, “missed me did you?”

You can only nod as he continues, eyes rolling back as he knows exactly what you’re needing and it’s certainly not gentle right now.

“I have exactly fifteen minutes before my brothers come looking for me— think you can be a good girl and make me come?”

You smirk against the gag in your mouth before purring at him; and it’s off to the races.

He’s in trouble quite often for this— but who’s to argue with him.

He’s king he can do what he wants…. At times….

Okay most of the time.

Plus he’s always in a MUCH better mood.

I wonder Why.

————

———

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

While Aro does love to experiment your safety is his utmost importance.

But he’s a curious bastard and you are right behind him on that scale so sometimes your games become a bit risky.

Never life threatening but oh boy do you two get a grin and just glance at one another, “you know we haven’t done that yet.”

“No…. No we haven’t….”

And that’s how it usually starts.

The worst thing you two can realize is you both utter “I don’t know”.

Well now you have to know if either of you are able to ahem— arrive— under rather dire circumstances such as utilizing your gift (don’t worry your gift doesn’t hurt him he knows how to use fire too surprise surprise.).

You almost had a heart attack though and nearly killed him after.

He just cackled that manic laugh that had you joining in after hitting him several times.

———

———

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Need I say more than one word?

Vampire.

Aro takes his time most occasions, his slow, slow sweet time.

Now— you’d THINK that the rougher encounters would last a shorter period.

You’re wrong.

So wrong.

He lives for it you’re going to be so happy you’re a vampire and can’t really get sore except for when you both leave cracking handprints on one another.

————

———

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Sensory.

Crops, leather gloves, feathers, ben wa balls are huge and he likes that they are silent but give you that teasing sensation. Wax candle play is huge for both of you and you enjoy long luxurious heated baths and sauna sessions with one another.

Ooooo he loves it.

Leather gloves area huge thing for him but not for what you’d think— he likes to challenge himself.

Sure he can know what you’re feeling but he wants to be in tune with your physical responses as well and so occasionally he dons them just to test his knowledge.

Damn smug overlord is just as good and you hate it and now he’s smirking at you while popping his jaw with his hand on his elbow waiting for you to come back into your body.

“Shut up.” You rasp as your head spins.

“I didn’t say anything.” His raven hair slides across his face as he grins wider.

“Your SMUGNESS IS LOUD ARO.”

“Me?! Smug! Why I never…” -cue the dark chuckle before he starts it up all over again, “maybe once more to ensure you remember it’s not just the gifts edge hm?”

“Ohhhh I’m going to die.” But you reach for him biting his leather clad hands.

“No you won’t.” He hums happily, “I won’t let you. You’re not allowed to leave me bambi.”

————

————

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

HE IS SO DAMN UNFAIR.

But so are you.

He’s not as bad as Caius but he is close, and he only does it with LOOKS.

His eyes are utterly expressive, as is that mouth of his, so when he glances at you in just the right way you can feel it drop down in your gut and sizzle.

And he does it during trial. Oh but when you do it you’re in trouble. Psh.

He’ll tease you and brush your hand as he walks by just to know that you’re basically twitching from frustration at the end of the day and about to boil over as he leans down and licks your neck. “Bambi, awe, was I too mean to you? Hmm I should make it up to you shouldn’t I?”

He always makes it up to you.

The man has the best ways to use his mouth aside from running the coven and giving orders.

————

———

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Aro was quite clear studies, and private rooms were to be soundproofed.

He’s loud, swearing (which he normally does not do), praising mess of a man, it’s needed.

And you love it.

You can practically feel the vibration in his chest when he purrs at you, less growling, he’s not as violent unless you get him too worked up.

No no no, he loves making you melt, and knows exactly what to croon at you to make your mind go blank.

———

———

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He’s more posessive than Marcus. And that bleeds into a protective nature.

A bit controlling, but he knows very well he can’t do that to you as he had to Sulprica. BUT it doesn’t stop him from trying as gods forbid anything happen to you.

Less Jealous than Caius.

But his ah— mood swings can cause for quite an interesting feat.

Since Marcus and Caius were always the brunt of the bashing and warfare, and he the brains behind the operation, many seem to think he has no bite marks on his body due to not being in the fray.

No.

The problem is Aro becomes too violent. Especially because of his talent when touching his victims it tends to become a frenzy. Once he had decimated an entire coven single handedly because the rage they had was swamping him.

His brothers had to pin him down and try to relay calm emotions— his sister Didyme thankfully had been the one to bring him back.

You yourself are now that calm place.

At one point, a guard had been careless enough to have thought about you in ah— that way— Aro was aware you were quite beautiful, your personality no nonsense and many of the guard and lower guard considered you a maternal figure almost otherwise a very good friend.

But this guard.

Ohhh he coveted. What was not his.

But what was worse, was that on the way to the throne room he had spoken to you rather crassly, you merely ignored him; he wasn’t even worth your time. But he had glanced you over as if you were a rather tasty morsel, the imaginings of you spread out beneath him had Aro’s hands cracking his wrists.

You saw the change slightly as you were behind him. His spine went poker straight. “You dare.” It was worse, the guard had actually tried to think of how to lure you away to him— you were a queen so surely infidelity was expected—

The rumble in his chest was a whole new sound you’d never even heard.

Both Marcus and Caius were sitting straight up and narrowing their gaze at Aro before Marcus flitted over and guided you to Aro’s throne placing you on it and standing protectively in front of you.

“Marcus?” you peered behind the eldest king and he hushed you gently.

The guard was torn apart in mere seconds.

It was utterly ruthless and with no mercy.

“People tend to forget Aro is only about a thousand years younger than I.” Marcus muttered.

You blinked. Aro was at least five thousand meaning that Marcus was Six, Caius being the youngest at three.

Aro speared the entire guard with a terrifyingly cold glare before flitting over to you, gripping your head back by your hair and sinking his teeth into your shoulder and neck with a low growl.

The sentiment was well understood as the entire guard backed the fuck away from the dais— he closed the wound before his head shot up and he snarled at the coven tucking you into his embrace your face buried into his robes. “She is mine.” It was a quiet, soft voice that spoke.

“Aro.” you muffled tugging his sleeve and looking up at him.

He showed you “what he had seen and tilted his head. Would you mind cara?”

You lit the bastard on fire with a scowl aimed at the body winding your arms about Aro’s waist and nuzzling into his solid form.

A soft kiss in your hair, his body relaxing. “That’s my bambi.”

———

———

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Aro although he is lithe and tall….he’s not exactly easy to handle.

9” decent width, knows how to use it.

Be forewarned, he knows what he’s doing.

Tactile Telepathy, good luck remember to keep your head on straight.

————

———

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

It’s less of a wistful like of yearning.

And more a burning bonfire of desire always in the wing of his mind ready to take over the forefront.

One glance at you and he wants you— granted he thinks it might cool down over the centuries but when you look at him like that and bite your lip and grin.

Nah.

Nope. This isn’t going away. Not at all.

He of course has excellent control so he is able to push other desires to the back of his mind, but once finished you are certainly at the front of the line.

Super high.

You both are insane.

You can be sitting reading and next moment with one small brush you’re gone from the library and you’ve tackled him through the doors of your rooms and pinned him to the floor.

Insatiable.

Good luck!

————

———

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Aro LOVES resting with you.

He likes to just lay with his hands on your body and watching your thoughts, you’re his favorite mind to go through and he just adores it.

You both can spend hours like this if you were allowed—

He likes when you drag your fingers through his hair.

Makes him melt.

Kiss across his eyes and kiss his hands as he brushes your mouth with his fingers trying to learn you all over again.

“I don’t think I’ll ever get enough.” He murmurs to you lazily. He has you nestled in his arms your head tucked under his jaw.

“That’s fucking fine by me.” You giggle.

He rolls his eyes and huffs a soft laugh kissing the top of your head. “Of course she swears like a sailor…”

[mandoalorian]

What about Javier Pena being jealous?????? 🥺

Thank you for the request! I hope this is okay for you!!

Into You [Javier Pena x Female Reader] SMUT

Warnings: SMUT, inexperienced reader, angst in the start but fluff in the end ;) <3

Rating: 18+ only.

Word count: 4k

MASTERLIST | Submit your requests HERE

Javier Peña did not get jealous.

But he heard the way they talked about you. He saw the way they looked at you. Gawked, undressing you with their minds. The way their lips spewed dirt and filth about the things they'd do to you if they were graced with the chance of some ‘alone time’ with you. And he hated it.

Javier Peña was anything but a saint. He had his ways. The DEA had a renown of being more reserved than the CIA, which meant Javier had earned a name for himself due to his lothario reputation.  Javier's colleagues were a lot older than him, settled down with families, children- and some even with grandchildren. Even his old partner, Steve Murphy, had a wife and a daughter. Javier had none of that. Except from you.

You were the new receptionist. Shy, fresh faced, and beaming with anticipation as you found your feet in your new job. Javier found it endearing, but he wondered how long your bubbliness would last. It wasn't all rainbows and butterflies- working for the DEA. You had an air of innocence to you, and he swore you had the kindest heart in the whole of Colombia. Javier knew from the moment he met you, that the men in his department were not deserving of you.

Javier didn't give a fuck about his reputation. But when the Colombian department extended to the CIA, Javier met a lot more men who were like himself. He saw them chat up women from his previous encounters in bars, and he saw them visit the same brothels as he did. That behaviour seemed to become normalized.

You were the only women in a department filled with horny, sex crazed men. Often, Javier would find himself watching you from his desk, only a pane of glass seperating you both. Almost always you were on the phone, doodling in a notebook as you talked to potential informants. Other times, your head was down and you were whisked away in your work. Occasionally though, he noticed CIA agents bust their move with you.

He never confronted you about it- it wasn't his place, but seeing the way they spoke to you filled a rage in his heart. Javier was lucky enough to blossom a friendship with you; one that you really valued. You didn't have many friends in Colombia, but knowing a man like Javier Peña had your back? That really brought you comfort.

Even better, you lived in the same apartment building as him. Same floor, just two doors apart. It meant that you were constantly over at his flat spending time with him. He taught you how to play poker and you enjoyed watching movies together and ordering take-out. Javier was a lot of fun.

Maybe, just maybe, you and Javier were spending too much time together. You were catching feelings for him, and shit- he was so sure he had already caught feelings for you.

Javier Peña does not catch feelings. He ran out on his and Lorraine's wedding because he was sure that he felt nothing for her. And she was his fiancée. Now, all of a sudden, he had a thing for the new DEA receptionist who sat outside his office. Only, it was more than just a thing. Javier Peña was in love. The sweet girl he had found to be so caring and compassionate, the angel who had eyes that must've been crafted by the Gods themselves and the softest lips he wished he could kiss.

You had sworn you had never been in love either, until of course, you met Javier. There was no way to explain it. You both just clicked like magnets. There was an electricity that exceeded just mere sexual tension. There was genuine feelings. 

Javier Peña is impulsive and so, when his feelings for you dawned on him, he called up his favourite sex worker; Vanessa. Not only was she good at her job, Vanessa was a good person. She was good to Javi when she didn't need to be, and that was hard to find in 80s drug-torn Colombia.

When Javi had a bad day at work- Vanessa would be at his beck and call. Sex was a way he could release any negative emotions he had. A temporary fix.

That night, you had planned to confront Javier. He had confided in you previously that he had stopped sleeping with women. Deep down, it was because of his feelings for you; although he would never admit that to you. You wanted to tell Javier that you liked him… a lot. But, you stood behind his apartment door, bottle of wine in hand, and heard Javier fucking Vanessa.

You froze up as you overheard their mixed up moans and groans of pleasure, immediately feeling stupid. Why would you believe that you actually had a chance with Javier Peña? He clearly didn't feel the same way about you.

And so you went back to your apartment, climbed into bed and finished the bottle of wine on your own. You closed your eyes and masturbated over him, whining his name as pleasure filled your core. 

And when Javier fucked Vanessa, he had her wear your pale pink lipgloss. He imagined her eyes match your specific shade and as he reached his climax, he wished it was with you. When he came, he screamed your name.

Of course, Vanessa didn't care. A job was a job to her.

After that night, you done your very best to brush away any feelings you once had for Javier. You tried really hard. You were beginning to believe it was a lost cause until CIA Agent Milo approached your desk about a month later.

Of course Javier noticed. He tried to take in the interaction between the two of you, judging from facial expressions as the glass pane in between you was practically soundproof. You were smiling, and you looked happy. Milo leaned against your desk, taking a pen and scrawling something on a sticky note. It was his number.

Jealousy was rife inside of Javi. Maybe Milo was about ten years younger than Javier, and maybe he read more fashion magazines. Although Javier considered himself stylish, you would often tease him for his 70s style wardrobe— an array of brightly coloured button up shirts, the same pair of dark blue denim jeans and pair of yellow tinted aviators. 

Javier knew Milo was no good for you. He reminded Javi of a younger version of himself. Milo was a heartbreaker, and you didn't need that. You needed someone who could look after you. Take care of you in all the ways you needed.

Not only that, but Javier knew what the CIA department was like— especially Milo. He would have nothing but questionable intentions with you. Another one of his sexual encounters that meant nothing to him but everything to you.

It was late on a Saturday evening when you nervously knocked on Javier's door. Just about to light up a cigarette, he stood up and unlocked it. His eyes widened when he saw you, slightly surprised. 

You were wearing a little black dress which clung around all your perfections, and ofcourse, your signature pink lip gloss.

"I haven't seen you in a while," he greeted as you slid past him and into the kitchen. "Want a drink?"

"No thank you." you replied, and Javier shut the front door and followed you into the kitchen.

"So what brings you here?" Javier asked, lighting his cigarette and taking a puff of smoke.

"I have a date with Milo in 45 minutes," you told Javier, awkwardly avoiding eye contact.

"Oh," Javier didn't really know how to respond.

"And, I missed you." you shrugged innocently, beckoning a small smile out of Javier. The blush that crept upon his cheeks didn't go unnoticed by you.

"So, uh, Milo, huh?" Javier questioned, taking another drag of his cigarette. He failed to realise why exactly you had come to see him- 45 minutes before your date.

"Um, yeah," you looked around his kitchen awkwardly, avoiding eye contact. "He's pretty great." you managed to force out. "He was employee of the month like, three months ago."

"Yeah a real sucker upper," Javi rolled his eyes and you gasped, nudging him playfully.

"He is not." You laughed but Javier really wasn't in the mood for whatever you were trying to do here.

"Why are you here?" he deadpanned, cutting your laugh short.

"I…" you frowned, unable to complete your sentence and earning an annoyed sigh from Javi. Maybe you were wrong to come to him.

"I don't think you should go out on a date with Milo." Javi informed you matter-of-factly; stubbing out his cigarette in the ash-tray that was conveniently placed on the kitchen counter.

"Excuse me?" you asked, your voice going uncontrollably high pitched. Javier casually placed the burnt out tab back in his mouth.

"I hear the things they say about you in the office, the sly little comments they make about you." Javier grunted, dismay written all over his face. The cigarette that was balanced in-between his perfect pink lips wobbled slightly with his building up anger. "They're no good for you. No good."

You narrowed your eyes. "No good? Javier, you don't get to be the judge of who is good for me and who isn't." You tried to stay composed but in the heat of the moment, your words came out as a snarl. Javier's dark eyes snapped up to meet yours as he tried to weigh up your expression.

"Shit, I didn't mean it like that." he raised his hands in defense and you folded your arms across your chest, awaiting an explanation for him. "It's just- we're friends, right? And I'm a guy and so, I understand what these other guys are like. And I care about you and-" 

"What if Milo cares about me?" you croaked out. Judging from everything Javier had told you so far, you were beginning to wonder if he was right. You just didn't want to believe it. Your one shot of happiness. Your one chance.

"Milo doesn't care about you." Javier deadpanned.

"Ouch Javi." you shuffled your heels around uncomfortably. You were certain your cheeks were heating up from the shame and you probably looked like an absolute mess in front of Javier. You felt embarrassed for not realising sooner. And seemingly, Javier had caught on to those feelings too.

"You have nothing to feel ashamed about," Javier comforted you, awkwardly reaching out and placing a hand on your back. You shuffled closer to him and he finally pent up the courage to pull you into his chest.

His embrace was warm and you could smell the mixture of his cigarettes and aftershave in his white shirt. You wanted to cry. If you were alone, you would've cried, but you couldn't bring yourself to do so in front of Javier.

"I feel pathetic," you whimpered, fidgeting with his tie. "You know Javi, I'm not very good at this kind of stuff. That's why I came to see you in the first place. I know that- I mean I've heard things about you. You have the experience."

Javier stiffened up and you awkwardly pulled away from him, desperately trying to read his expression in case you said something wrong. "Experience?" he questioned, his dark eyebrows knotting together.

"You- you know," you murmured, closing your hands into a fist and looking down at your feet. "You're experienced and I'm… not."

"I don't understand." Javier replied and you huffed out your cheeks.

"Fuck Javi, are you actually going to make me say it? I'm a virgin."

Javier blinked a few times. The silence was deafening. You wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

"I- I would've never have guessed."

"Yeah well…" Fuck, this was awkward.

"Y/N, can I tell you something?" Javier prompted.

"I guess?" you replied in bewilderment.

"When I see him talk to you- when I see anyone talk to you… I get jealous. So fucking jealous."

You swore your heart stopped. "Jealous?"

"I see the way they make you laugh and smile- and I curse myself because I wish that was me."

You raised a hand and pressed it into his chest. "Javi…" you didn't know what to say. "I- I came here for… advice. About… you know. Sex."

Javier looked you up and down and rolled his eyes, walking into his living room. When you followed him, he was already slouched into the sofa, nursing a bottle of cold beer.

"What do you need from me?" Javier sighed, feeling defeated that his attempt of admitting his true feelings had become completely lost on you.

"Show me." you whispered nervously, taking a few steps closer to him.

"I don't want to take advantage of you…" Javier trailed off but he was already wishing he could undress you.

"I want you to." you admitted, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach. 

Javier contemplated for a moment but really, there was no question about it. He had dreamt of fucking you since the moment he first laid his eyes on you. Javier leaned forward and put the bottle of beer on the coffee table.

"Take off your dress and come sit on my lap." Javier instructed and you nodded, sliding out of your dress and letting it pool around your ankles. You went to kick off your heels when Javi interrupted. "No, keep them on."

You nodded with a slight smile. It wasn't long until you found yourself standing completely naked in front of your best friend, and Javi had gotten rock hard from just watching you undress. All his fantasies were alive.

He beckoned you over and you sunk down onto his lap. "Rock your hips over me," Javi mumbled, pressing a light kiss into your ear.

You followed his command and immediately felt a wash of satisfaction as you started to dry hump him through his jeans.

"Javi," you moaned, your eyes rolling back as you grind harder over his bulge.

"That's it, good girl," he praised, fucking a stand of your hair behind your ear. His hand fell down to your chest, grabbing and squeezing at your breasts. "Take what you need."

A huff of air escaped your lips at his words and you buried your head into the crook of his neck. His skin was warm and you could smell the tobacco burnt into his body. But also, there was a sweetness to him, like honey. The scents did not get lost on you. He was your addiction.

You raised your hands to his head, lacing your fingers amongst his locks of dark brown hair. As you increased your speed, you tugged on his hair which earned a hearty groan from Javier's mouth. The noises he made only spurred on your arousal and you felt your cunt getting wetter by the second, contracting around nothing as you began to grow desperate for his cock.

Javier felt his boxer shorts dampen as his precum dripped through the thin material. His big hands roamed your bare back and he knew that pretty soon he'd want to take his pants off. You loved the sensation of rubbing your pussy over his denim jeans, the friction tickling you in just the right ways. You loved the way he would moan or tense up when you occasionally brushed over his erection.

"This feels better than I ever could've imagined." you admitted and your eyes were hazy, glazed with tears as you pushed towards your climax.

"Yeah? Fuck, first times usually aren't this good," Javier grunted as he felt you twitch on top of him, your legs beginning to shake around him. "Can you cum for me?"

"You- you want me to cum?" you blinked, a blush creeping upon your cheeks.

"Please," Javier groaned. "Need you to cum all over me. Make a mess of my jeans."

"Oh Javi," you whimpered, putting more focus on grinding over his hard, defined bulge. It rubbed between your folds and stimulated you in a way that your fingers could never.

"I love it when you say my name," Javier hummed, holding you steady as you rode out your high. You gasped and pressed your lips against his.

He swiped his tongue over your lower lip, begging for entry which you happily granted him. But the second you opened your mouth just slightly, he slid his tongue in and you gasped out another loud moan of his name causing his grip to tighten around you. You came undone all over him, just how he had always dreamt about, whimpering into his mouth. You stopped grinding but stayed still on his lap for a few moments, letting him hold you and kiss you.

His kiss eventually left your lips and he planted sloppy love bites down your neck and along your collarbones. His grip on your breast was soft yet firm and the roughness of his hands made you want to help, especially when he rubbed his thumb over your nipple, pinching it slightly just to see what reaction he could get out of you.

"Your tits are fucking perfect." Javier groaned, licking a stripe down the valley of your breasts. You watched him with eager and excited eyes as he played with you, feeling your cunt drip with your arousal once more.

"Javi," you groaned, tossing your head back.

"What is it?" he responded, a mouthful of your tit. You paused for a moment, letting him suck on your nipples. "What do you need, my love?"

"I need you," you mewled, your toes curling involuntarily when he pulled his mouth away from your nipples with a 'pop' sound. "Need your cock to fill me up."

"Yeah? Fuck you're so dirty… never had no cock before. And you want mine? Are you sure that's what you want, sweet girl?" Javier's mustache brushed against your neck and you giggled at the tickle it gave you.

"Mm yes Javi, wanted this for so long and so bad. Wanted you. I'd hear about all the girls that you fucked and I, I just wanted to be one. One of your little fuck toys." You groaned, pleasure pooling in your eyes.

"My love, you're more than that. You're so much more than that." Javier promised you, gently pushing you off his lap so he could unbuckle his belt and unzip his jeans. He stood up, pulling his jeans down, along with his boxer shorts, and you couldn't help but yelp when you saw the way his long thick cock sprung out against his stomach. The tip was red and already leaking for you.

"Oh Javi," you whispered, unable to take your eyes off his manhood. "You're so- you're so big."

"Come here," he curled his finger, gesturing for you to come back over and sit on his lap.

You straddled him again and gasped, feeling his cock press between your folds. You continued to rub over him, this time feeling more freeing as your wetness glided over his erection. "I'm nervous," you admitted. "I want this Javi. I really do, but I've never- done this before." you gulped and Javi planted a reassuring kiss to your lips.

"I'll go gentle sweetheart, I promise. And if it ever gets too much, you can just tell me. Your comfort is the most important to me." Javi whispered in your ear, sending chills down your spine. "Let me just…."

Javier lowered his hand to your clit and began to rub gently. He closed his eyes, your wetness soaking his fingers with just the smallest of touches. "Already so nice and wet for me," Javier smiled, bringing his fingers up to your lips and pushing them gently into your mouth. He watched you with his dark, lust blown eyes as you sucked your own arousal from his fingers. "How do you taste?" 

"Good," you replied, blushing again and hopelessly fluttering your eyelashes which framed your eyes.

Javier lowered his hand again and you lifted yourself up slightly. He slid his middle finger in, deep, and you were surprised at how well you could take him. He left his finger inside of you for a second before rubbing his index finger against your hole. He looked at you, asking for approval, to which you gave him a nod and smile, and Javier pushed a second finger inside of you. This earned a moan from you, followed by a giggle as he slowly stretched you out by pumping his fingers in and out of you.

Feeling your walls contract around him, he removed his fingers and brought them up to his own mouth, this time tasting you for himself. "Perfect." he corrected you, humming in delight.

Javier reached over to the drawer inside the coffee table and pulled out a string of condoms. He teared open the packet of one and skillfully slid it down his length.

Javier adjusted himself slightly and you lifted off him just a few inches. He reached to his cock and held it upright, before signalling for you to sink down on him. He wanted to let you be in control. He wanted you to start doing it at your own, comforting pace.

The second you sunk down on him, you felt him twitch inside of you and your eyes widened at the unfamiliar feeling fullness. You sat down on him, nudging your nose against his and he kissed you again as you warmed his cock in your pussy.

"So tight," Javier growled, biting down on your lower lip. "How does it feel for you? Is it hurting?"

You shook your head 'no' and Javier offered you a warm smile. "Just- you're just so big."

"Take your time sweet girl." Javier murmured, kissing down your neck.

Slowly, you lifted yourself off him before sinking back down. And repeat. Until eventually you felt like you could build up a steady and comfortable rhythm— you realised you were riding him. Javier buried his head into your breasts as you bounced on his cock, your breathing hitching as you felt every one of his bumps and veins inside of you.

Javier was a mess underneath you, slurring out an abundance of incoherent curses in a wash of satisfaction as your cunt clenched around him. He knew he wouldn't last long.

You straightened up your posture and Javi shuffled backwards a little, leaning into the plush of the sofa cushions. His hips started to snap into yours as he began to meet your thrusts with loud moans. His large hands held you by your waist as he fucked you so perfectly. His cock was buried deep within you, and with every one of Javier's thrusts, he hit your sweet spot.

"I'm close," you gasped as Javier continued thrusting. You felt your heart rate pick up and your legs begin to shake as his balls slapped against your dripping core.

"Me too," Javier concluded, bumping his nose against yours and kissing you passionately. Breaking away to catch breath, he grabbed a fistful of your hair. "Cum with me. 3, 2, 1." 

The second he said '1' you broke on top of him, and Javier's cock pulsed inside of you, his seed spilling into the condom. Your cunt clenched around him, milking him of all his arousal and you were left, a breathless mess, on Javier Peña's lap. His cock slipped out of you and you groaned at the lost feeling of fullness. Javier pinched the condom and took it off before throwing it into the nearby trash bin.

Javier's dark eyes blinked up at you a few times as you both took a few minutes to regain your breath. "How was it?" Javier asked eventually, exhaling shakily.

"Better than I ever could've imagined." you offered him a smile. He always found that your smile was contagious and he couldn't help but grin at you back.

"Listen- what I said to you before- the whole, "I'm into you" thing… if you're not ready, I completely understand." Javier told you.

You couldn't bring yourself to fathom words so you simply just pressed a kiss into his lips. "I'm into you too, Javier Peña." you whispered and felt Javier grin into the kiss, his hands twisting into your hair as he pulled you deeper into him.

Permanent taglist (let me know if you would like to be added!):  @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic 

[feelingofcontent]

DNP Rewatch: Halloween Baking - SPOOKY CUPCAKES

Date video was published: 10/26/2014 (X)

DNP Main Channel Rewatch: 247

Baking video! They didn’t do a Halloween baking video in 2013, so this is only the second one after Halloween Baking: Brownie Graveyard!

0:06 - “a pentagram on your face with a sharpie” ...okay. They've upped the background decoration a lot since the first one.

0:10 - Phil can’t help but laugh at Dan’s evil cackle. “Glamorous assistant” and the usual slide again.

0:18 - apparently need to do a full-body look to admire Phil’s new t-shirt there. 👀

0:30 - awww, Dan is so pleased. Also, very purposeful and explicit call-out of clothes sharing. (for the first time, maybe?)

0:37 - what happened during this jump cut? Dan looks so fond. I love that Dan is the one that decorated for it, although Phil posted a photo of the decor.

0:54 - that really is a giant pumpkin. I love Phil watching himself on the screen as he carries it in, lol. And nice spooky background music!

1:05 - continuity error! This was from before Phil brought the giant pumpkin in.

1:14 - Phil is so confident with his “thing of 2014″ lol. Dan is skeptical. They do love red velvet cake though. (Also, Dan could not be any more fond during baking videos, I swear.)

1:34 - I love this insert so much. “Captain hindsight” is hilarious; wtf is on Phil’s messy face; the amused smile; the giggling; upside-down Dan; etc. 😂

2:03 - not then many actual times (on video at least)

2:11 - sure, Dan. Phil does look pleased with himself though.

2:20 - the ingredients presentation is always...something, hahaha.

3:12 - I really don’t think buying pre-made icing qualifies as a “debacle” lol.

3:30 - I’m with Phil. This looks like broken dishes waiting to happen. 😨

3:45 - Dan’s blink and expression after “made out of silicone...” Somehow I don’t think his mind was on boob or butt implants... 😳

3:54 - and there we have the first of never-ending baking video whisk references after that video on Tyler’s channel

4:16 - lol at Dan reading the temperature off of the screen. Dan does not look amused by Phil’s accent but I am.

4:40 - this seems dangerous. They really didn’t have a lot of good surfaces in that kitchen to use when filming.

4:43 - dancing mirroring and the hand-off to Phil

4:53 - well that was a creepy light flicker

5:00 - that sieve is way too big for that bowl, no wonder it’s a mess

5:15 - what the fuck is happening here with the audio with Dan saying it but Phil mouthing the same thing? So confused.

5:38 - so many recipes that ask for an electric mixer and yet they don’t get one for years

5:52 - baking song! 😊

6:23 - the color looks so good at this point

6:25 - Phil does not like the “chicken fetus” remark

6:59 - probably a good idea to let Dan pour the batter in

7:20 - oh no the jumper!

7:38 - the fact that they just left the empty cupcake wrapper in there. why.

8:00 - this might be more creepy than the usual paper masks. Phil goes to let go as Dan grabs it but then...doesn’t

8:06 - that is valid, Dan. Having to turn on the song that’s stuck in your head. Dan’s dancing is...intense if nothing else.

8:40 - I hate silicone baking trays for this exact wobbly reason.

8:45 - Phil is so disappointed with the color

9:00 - comforting shoulder pats. Also their cupcakes sunk in the centers so much.

9:08 - Phil is very excited about the decorating choices. Of course he’s opened something!

9:50 - you can tell when they’re impressed with a pun one of them came up with on the spot, lol

10:18 - not the fact Dan was expecting but he is amused anyway

10:27 - what will become a common theme for Dan decorating Halloween things

10:52 - their decorating may not be great but they do go all-in with it

11:24 - their lights are doing weird shit during this 😨

11:33 - Phil spots the loose candy and completely ignores everything else to eat it, lol

11:56 - I love the showing-off of the final product as if its Bake-Off

12:10 - now Dan has frosting on his face around his eye too somehow 😂

12:29 - lmao at Phil telling him “no” while Phil’s face is also covered in frosting

12:44 - I am disturbed by Dan’s eating of this cupcake during the endscreen

12:45 - “wait, promote me” as if Phil wouldn’t, hahaha

13:00 - even they can’t believe the last one was two years ago!

Any baking video is great. There are too many fond looks from Dan in this one to count. I love that even when their recipes don’t turn out well/as planned, they still seem to have a great time filming the baking videos.

[zodiyack]

Till Death Do We Part

Pairing: Xavier Plympton x Female!Reader

Warnings: Death / mentions of death, swearing, fluff, mature themes / implied smut

Words: 849

Summary: After arriving at Camp Redwood and partaking in a little tour, the day ends peacefully. However, the night’s not as gentle as it’s made out to be. You could even say it was, deadly. Xavier’s mind goes to its safe place in what is his final moments.

Taglist: @matth1w, @redspaceace-writes, @fandom-puff, @darling-i-read-it, @simonsbluee, @sebastianstanslefteyebrow​, @marvelmayo​

Masterlist | American Horror Story Masterlist | Cody Fern Masterlist

He was unconscious most of the time he’d been in the oven. When he awoke, his conscious was about as messy as his teenage bedroom. It was so hot, he had to wonder if it was what hell felt like. Scorching heat that burned through him both literally and not. However, he was panicking so much, he couldn’t think. The burning was a constant in his mind, so he couldn’t have a clear head even if he tried.

But now, as time felt like it slowed dramatically- ironic for the aspiring actor, he could. And so he did. It hit him like a bus, or a bolt of electricity, a flood of thoughts frantically trying to claw their way into the spotlight before everything was doomed to go dark. Margaret was over him with the knife raised. But before she brought the knife down into his torso, his brain finally picked something to see before he’d see nothing.

“Xavier!” She giggled and squealed, her smile beaming so bright Xavier couldn’t help but smile himself.

At first, the blond didn’t say anything in response to her shriek. Instead, he continued his whimsical assaults on her squirming body, reveling in every sound he drew from her. His hands tickled her sides without mercy, his lips pressed kisses to her cheeks. He moved his face down a little and skittishly nibbled on her neck, claiming he would eat her up.

Though his claims were often repeated in different scenarios, this was a moment where it wasn’t sexual, just...playful. He missed those moments.

Y/n was his shining star, the light of his life, the only person in the world who would ever grasp the true key to his heart. Relief stirred within Xavier as he relived the moments with her.

Then the scene shifted. He was next to her and her head was rested on his naked chest. They were both bare beneath the sheets of his bed. Despite their sweat covered bodies, they were holding each other like it was the last time. Each time he inhaled, her head would rise with his chest, lowering with it when he exhaled as well. It was calm, content...intimate.

“Xavier?” She asked, voice soft and barely audible with obvious tiredness.

Neither of the two lifted their heads to look at each other, but they didn’t mind. “Yeah?”

“I wish this would never end.”

“Me neither.” He thought for a moment as he stared at the ceiling. “I think...I think I love you.”

“You think?” Y/n adjusted so she could see his face, all signs of sleep wiped away and replaced with intrigue.

“Yeah- I mean...”

She suddenly perked up, a new attitude in play as she looked around the room and avoided his blue orbs. “Well that’s just too bad, because I know for a fact that I love you too. Perhaps when you’ve made up your mind, you should kiss me like your life depends on it.”

It only took a few seconds for him to snap back, a smirk sliding onto his lips as he sat up, “Maybe I will.”

He wondered if she was safe. He regretted bringing her along, whisking her away from the safety of LA and dragging her to the camp where they’d die the night before becoming counselors. If he were to say he didn’t hate himself for getting her to join in on the gig, he would be a liar.

Again, the memory altered, this time, taking him to his bedroom the night before he was to leave for the camp that would be the cause of his demise. He went out with Y/n, took her to dinner and brought her back to his place where they would enjoy a night together before they would have children taking up their time with each other.

“Are you excited?”

Xavier furrowed his brows, trying to come up with an honest answer. “For camp? I suppose. It’ll be so fucking hard keeping my hands off of you though.”

Y/n snickered at his confession, unsurprised by her boyfriend’s lewd thoughts. “I think I might just have to agree with that observation, Mr. Plympton.”

“Really?”

“Yeah!” She looked at him, her e/c eyes meeting his blue ones. “It must suck ass not being able to pound me into a mattress for an entire summer.”

Xavier’s face morphed with confusion. “Who said anything about mattresses? Or being abstinent?”

“What exactly are you suggesting?”

“I meant in front of the kids, babe.” A mischievous smile slid upon his lips, “You of all fucking people should know that the moment those rugrats hit the hay, Xavier’s gonna want to play.”

That was all the warning Y/n received before he attacked her neck with love bites, soon lifting her off the couch and throwing her into his bed for what would be the last time.

The pain of the blade entering his flesh snapped him back into reality. He slowly lifted his head, watching as the blood stained his shirt. Then, it all went black.

If only he knew it would actually be the last time.

[fanficsandfluff]

Lights Out, Nobody Home

Fandom: Marvel’s The Falcon and the Winter Soldier

Characters: Sam Wilson (Falcon), Bucky Barnes (Winter Soldier)

Words: 1,766

Okay here you go lmao. Bc @bigirlgiggles and @ticklingmood showed interest. Unfortunately, loves, I forgot to mention there was zero tickling in it *cries*

The tone is so bad, it’s bordering on offensive hurt/comfort..... I wrote it in a sleepy daze I just needed to write something. 

We go deal with that, and when we’re done, we both can go on separate, long vacations and never see each other again.

... and never see each other again.

I like that.

"I like that?" Bucky muttered to himself aloud in the back of a cab that was taking him home. Did Sam... No, he couldn't have known. He can't be feeling the same way as me right now. That's why he said that in the first place. But why did he have to give him that answer? That curt response that he didn't at all mean?

Bucky unlocked his apartment door and stepped inside, the whole place oddly quiet and dark. He left the lights off as he roamed around, getting himself a drink. And drink he did.

Bucky had the news on the television, not often changing channels. He wasn't the sitcom-at-midnight kind of viewer. With no inkling for sleep in mind, Bucky finished the pack of beer he just bought (and dammit was hoping to save and spread out because now he needed more).

Never See Each Other Again.

Bucky's eyes burned. No. No no nonono...

Could Sam see in his eyes how clouded they were in that police interrogation room? As they were forced to stare at each other, legs intertwined. Did Sam pick up on his moment of weakness?

Bucky heard his phone make its ringing sound and he looked down at the coffee table at it. Area code could've been Sam's... He didn't flick the phone open, just put it back down and let it ring.

"And you agreed... You sorry sack of shit--Fuck!" Bucky had shattered the final beer bottle he held in his metal arm, and it surprised him. He whisked off the dripped residue from his arm, brushing off any broken glass from his thighs. Fucking knew it, Buck. You knew to get cans instead of bottles, but they were out of cans, so we settled for bottles and look what the fuck happens.

His eyes were still burning, and he kept them that way for so long his sinuses were starting to get sore.  He moved slowly and calculated, cleaning up the glass shards in the dark apartment. The flickering TV didn't illuminate enough, it seems, as a forgotten piece sliced into his palm when he went feeling around between the couch cushions. Without much of a reaction from him, he pulled out the shard and tossed it away like the others.

A ring of his doorbell happened next and Bucky went into full alert mode. "God dammit..." he didn't think he was mentally ready to act as a functioning member of society right now.

Bucky tiptoed to the door and looked out the peephole, actually sighing out loud when he saw Sam and his raised eyebrow. Then he knocked.

Bucky cracked the door open and before he could get a word out, Sam said, "Woah... we living in full darkness over here? I feel like I'm actually entering your physical mind right now. Electricity bills must be cheap."

Bucky moved to close the door but Sam's hand reached in, "Hey! Hey, Buck, I just want--"

"Don't call me that."

"You're right, I forgot. I'm sorry," and Sam meant it, "Can I come in?"

Bucky took a few beats, and Sam let him have them, before he threw open the deadbolt and let Sam inside. Sam immediately flicked the light switch on.

When Sam did that, Bucky went to the windows and shut all the blinds and pulled the curtains fully tight, wincing when the cut in his palm was slid through the rope attached to the blinds.

"I thought we could talk," Sam started speaking again.

"Haven't we done enough of that today?"

"Without Nurse Ratched supervising," Sam looked over stained spots on the couch and all the empty beer bottles on the coffee table. It made him frown. Bucky was staring at him already and he looked back.

"I think we both made our points," Bucky said and he made the move to clear all the bottles out of the room once he picked up on Sam observing them. That's when Sam caught sight of the red palm.

"You good?" he moved forward, instinct taking over to reach for Bucky's hand. Bucky pulled that arm to his chest and took several steps back, "I'm perfect."

Sam's brow furrowed and he scoffed, "Shit, man... did anyone ever tell you you're stubborn?"

"Several people, yes."

Sam let the silence hang after the mild snarky comments, and he gathered up three of the bottles in his hand, taking them to the kitchen recycling. Bucky took the rest and he stayed in the kitchen to wash out his hand. Sam watched him and then he watched Bucky's face as he let the water run over his wound.

"Now who's staring?"

Sam smiled, "You know, you always look like you're one comment away from crying." He said it. He said that and he meant absolutely no teasing or malice from it. Sam tried in the most earnest way to reach out to the ex-Winter Soldier.

Bucky hardened his jaw and he turned the faucet off. He grabbed a paper towel and carefully shredded it from its group, holding it in his human hand. In this instant, he was afraid to stare. He was afraid to meet Sam's eyes for fear of actually breaking down into tears. But then he challenged that thought and shared eyesight with Sam.

"Wh-What do you want?" ah, fuck. He fucking stuttered.

"The comment I made. The closing statement. I said it to get us out of that room and out here so we can help," he paused to think of what to say next, "It worked. Right?"

Wrong way to say things, Wilson. Bucky skirted himself around Sam to walk back towards the living room.

"I've read people's faces for a living, Bucky. Faces like yours. What I said about us never seeing each other again, I saw what it did to you. As hard as you try to hide it," Sam followed him, watching Bucky take a seat on his couch.

"I'm waiting for an apology."

"Well, then you'll be waiting for a while because I'm not giving one. I'm explaining myself, since you didn't want to listen in that room--"

"I listened. I asked questions that I wanted answers to. Steve wanted--"

"Bucky, Steve ain't here anymore," Sam sat down besides Bucky on the couch, facing him, looking at him with a caring intensity, "He's not. I made the choice I thought was right, I don't know how many times I have to say it. I told him it didn't feel like mine, I told him I wasn't ready. Tell me you haven't ever felt like that in your life... unprepared for a burden you knew would be fucking monumental. I donated the shield. I didn't vote to create a new Cap. Bucky..." Sam's voice wavered and dropped to a whisper when he saw tears trickling down Bucky's cheeks.

Bucky scrunched his face up and turned away from Sam. He didn't make much noise. He just sat and let the hot tears run down his face. This had to be a lesson in bottling emotions... don't fucking do it otherwise you'll explode like a fire hydrant with tears all at once.

Sam didn't move, didn't think to make a move. He heard Bucky sniffle once to get an intake of breath and he reached out a hand and placed it on the other man's shoulder.

"I... I'm touched you feel that attached to me. That you want to make this work, and you couldn't live without me, because hey, I don't blame you--"

"Oh, just shut the fuck up," Bucky sniffled again, now wiping at his nose that was threatening to run.

Sam started to laugh and he leaned forward, resting his forehead against Bucky's arm as he let his laugh out. Even Bucky wasn't immune. He was looking anywhere but at Sam, wet eyes darting around, but he was kind of smiling. It was a small one and the tear streaks and red eyes weren't helping him out there. Bucky shoved Sam off his arm after a few seconds, "Get off."

"Are we gonna be able to get to work on this?"

Bucky nodded, now wiping his eyes. Sam quickly got up and retrieved another paper towel for Bucky to use to clean off his face as opposed to swiping his cold metal appendage all over it.

"You still love me?"

Bucky eyed Sam and saw that cheeky bastard revel in what he asked, "No."

"I'm hurt."

"Good."

"Buck."

"I said don't call me--"

"...yyyy. Buckyyyy. Yo, you didn't even let me finish, you're so angry all the time. Oh--oH! Oho, now he's clamming up again! Did I hurt your feelings?"

"You are so rude, did you know that?"

Now Sam was laughing again.

Bucky continued, "I'm over here crying and pouring my heart out and you just keep..." he mimed a stabbing motion in midair, "... keep twisting that knife. You're never satisfied. I'm your asshole punching bag for anything quippy and-- Sam," Bucky was staring at the man nearly losing it from laughing at him so much, "This isn't funny, I'm being serious. I'm opening up to you, you dick. This is what your problem is."

Bucky was frowning, but he knew inside he felt no hate. Was this growth? Maybe. He was just insatiably annoyed by the fucking Falcon.

"You're a dick," Bucky said again, and Sam had quelled his laughter most of the way. Bucky reached out with his metal appendage and tweaked Sam's side.

"Hehey! Don't you try tickling me! You know what you're gonna get?"

"Get out of my house. Time to leave."

Sam was being ushered towards the door.

"Hey, I take back what I said," Sam leaned against the front door with Bucky ready to push him through it, "About the long vacation. I can't leave you alone for long. So, it looks like we're stuck together."

Bucky stared, studied.

"Thanks for coming over. You're so fucking annoying, though," and Bucky even flashed a smile when Sam giggled again.

"I'm glad I came. I watched you go through a whirlwind of emotions I didn't even know your android brain had."

"Goodnight, Sam," Bucky reached across the man and opened the door for him.

"I'll see you tomorrow so we can get to work."

Bucky nodded. He shut the door, clicking the locks back into place. Hmm... couples therapy might be the key.

[1010ll]

do you have any new recipes that you've learned recently? i remember you wrote something a while ago about carbonara and i tried it out for myself it was really fun!!

i love this 😭 im gonna write way too much idec! something that has changed since that post: my kitchen is worse. i have a horrible combi oven which has resulted in me accidentally eating raw chicken, because it had been in there for more than 2 hours at supposedly 230 °C and i was really hungry and thought it HAD to be done by then. also i have less time and less money lol. it has made me a bit sad, and less motivated to cook nice things but i also love food! which means these tips/recipes are gonna reflect that and might seem a bit dull but probably also relatable for a lot of people.   i’ve definitely made spaghetti carbonara a bit too much because it’s simple and require few ingredients! will still vouch for that one tip about substituting the bacon with roasted veggies and other types of meat.

last week i made risotto for the very first time, i think? which means i might be assuming a bit too much, but i think it’s a great dish that you can almost make with whatever you have in your fridge. i made it with roasted beetroot(needs A LOT of time to soften, lesson learned), carrots and parsley root or parsnip(idk the difference), dried rosemary and thyme, garlic and onion. i had some leftover sushi rice, which is great for risotto apparently(love versatile ingredients), roasted them in some oil and then added white wine and chicken stock and actually added a leftover parmesan rind i had in the fridge to give the ‘stock’ some flavour, a bit of nutmeg and then in the end some shredded gouda lol… it was surprisingly delicious and i didn’t even really care to cook the rice perfectly. it also tasted delicious 3 days later, which was a nice surprise. i bet there are tons of risotto recipes online, but as long as you have rice, some kind of flavoured water, i guess you could kind of add whatever you want of veggies and top with whatever herb you have around.

another type of porridge i consume a lot these days is hot oat porridge, which i’ve eaten since i was little and it was the first ‘dish’ i learnt to make myself and it’s cheap. some people really dislike the consistency and look but i don’t. it’s also very easy to customise. i put in whatever nuts and seeds(which are often cheaper than nuts) i have around: flaxseed, sesame seeds, pumpkin seeds, sunflower seeds, chopped almonds and sometimes a dollop of peanut butter. i let them simmer along with the oats. i like adding those elements because it gives it some texture and it keeps me more full throughout the day. it’s very important to me because i hate spending money i don’t have on fast-food when i’m not home and i hate being hungry. dried raisins, cranberries for a bit of sweetness and if i’m treating myself i’ll add some fresh apples cut into small pieces or some homemade berry compote(i use frozen) or brown sugar. if i had more money i’d use maple syrup but i don’t at the moment. i also add a bit of cinnamon and cardamom, dried ginger etc, whatever you feel like. some people also add milk afterwards but i’d rather spend my milk on my coffee.

a small tip: making chili flake / garlic oil. it’s really delicious, you could put it straight on pasta with some parmesan and pepper and it would be a filling meal. either chop the garlic really fine, grate it, microplane it, smash it to pieces. heat some olive oil until it’s quite hot, then remove from heat and add the chili flakes and garlic. if the oil isn’t hot enough you can just put the pan or pot back on the heat but be careful you don’t burn the chili flakes or garlic, as it will make it bitter. the longer it will toast, the less pronounced the raw garlic flavour will be, so when it smells toasted enough for your taste, take it off. i store it in a tiny glass jar and add it in stews, sauces, toasts, pizza, sandwiches etc. the flavour is very strong imo and everything it touches will smell like it. something to drink: i like strong foods and i like sour foods, which is why i like lemon/ginger based drinks. to make it even more winter friendly and easy to make, i like to grate unpeeled ginger(i hate slices of ginger, they do nothing for me and seems like a waste of ginger), lemon zest, lemon juice and mix it or blend it with some water/apple juice and honey and strain it afterwards. if you have a really nice blender you can just add all of it together with some ice. i’m basically making a large amount of ginger shot mixture. then when i feel like it, i can take some of the mixture and either drink it as it is, add more apple juice if i need a refreshing beverage or add hot water and more honey for when im cold. you could also add turmeric, chili, use less sweetener and other sorts of healthy stuff but i honestly do it for the taste so i don’t care about that that much.

something sweet: i posted earlier about cakes and someone mentioned swedish kladdkaka, which is a super delicious, cheap, brownie-like chocolate cake that is easily customized and hard to fuck up which is why i’ve made it since i was very young and is a go-to and i didn’t even know it was a swedish thing. if you like airy, light cakes this is not for your. this is sticky, sweet and almost like confection. you can add nuts, swirls of peanutbutter, tahini, actual pieces of chocolate, replace the white sugar with brown sugar, the butter with oil(you can be fancy and use a bit of olive oil) or use a mixture, brown the butter, you name it. the recipe i use is this: melt 100 g butter and let cool. mix 2 eggs + 3 dl sugar in a bowl until fluffy in one bowl. mix 1.5 dl flour, 4 tbs cocoa, 1 pinch of salt in another. mix the dry with the wet mixture and add the cooled, melted butter. this is the point where you’d add chopped nuts, chocolate etc. pour the batter into a cake tin lined with parchment (i use one that is 16 cm in diameters i think). bake the cake for around 30 mins at 150°C - 175°C degrees. check on the cake using a cake tester or a a knife. if the knife is clean after … stabbing it, it’s done! the cake will change it’s texture after cooling. this is a cheap cake, and if you like cake dough you might want to give it less time in the oven for a more fudgey texture. make it your own! there are no rules. last time i made this, i left it in for too long in my opinion but it was still delicious. also i literally have a shit oven with a round oven rack that goes in circles no matter what due to the microwave function, and the only ‘mixing’ equipment i have is a whisk and a spatula. no need for kitchen aids or  even electrical hand mixers.

something else i’ve been eating a lot for lunch is simple open faced sandwiches, and something that can really elevate those is: making your own mayonnaise(and toasting the bread). it can be challenging, but it’s really worth it imo and i can’t remember the last time i bought it in a store. i have a small plastic bowl, whisk and 1 egg yolk. something i can really recommend is buying pour snouts for bottles. i transfer my oils from their plastic bottles to smaller, old soda bottles because im cheesy like that and it’s really handy especially when making mayo. constantly whisking the egg yolk by hand and then adding the NEUTRAL oil ever so slowly. don’t be fancy and use cold pressed stuff or extra virgin olive oil because it will taste weird. i only ever fail when i try to use immersion blenders for some weird reason but i find it rewarding to do by hand anyways and i think it might be easier to make smaller portions that way. mayo needs acid and you can get it by adding regular vinegar, apple cider vinegar, balsamic vinegar, lemon juice, lime juice, pickle juice, citric acid dissolved in water etc. it’s really easy to customise! when im making banh mi, i add some sesame oil, soy sauce for saltiness and use lime as the acidic element. for more regular use i add a bit of mustard(also helps with the emulsion), for fries, i like adding some fresh garlic. something as simple as mayo, tomatoes, flaky salt and pepper topped with chives is really nice. i also really like using slices of boiled potatoes or boiled eggs(idk if that’s only a thing where i’m from), mayo and the chili garlic oil. it’s also great for making tuna salad. yesterday i made a really simple sandwich with a very simple tuna salad(tuna, mayo, yoghurt, lemon and pepper), arugula, basil, the garlic/chili oil, cream cheese, pickled jalapeños and onions, green peber, cucumber and tomatoes. you could leave out everything but the tuna salad and it would still be a great little meal.

another nice condiment that beats the supermarket stuff by far is homemade ‘pesto’. when i buy parsley from my local grocery store, it’s a gigantic amount that i in no way can consume in a week. first of all when buying fresh herbs i really recommend washing them, wrapping them in a damp towel and keeping them in a closed container. it will prolong their lifetime from lasting a day to a week(change the towel if it seems too wet). i once had some cilantro in my fridge for several weeks and still be fresh. anyways, when i buy that much parsley, i like to remove the tougher parts of the stem(which i use in stews/sauces! chop it up and sautee it along with garlic and onion), add literally just olive oil, water, pepper, garlic, and a bit of acid and then blend away! it keeps for a long time in the fridge and is also delicious beneath tomatoes/potatoes/cheese on open-faced sandwiches. if you want to be fancy you can of course add some type of hard cheese, nuts, seeds, dried tomatoes, whatever.

i know this is the longest text post ever, but as a last reminder, i really recommend watching pasta grannies on youtube. really simple recipes with focus on few, good ingredients that just takes some time and love.

[gottlem]

pancakes for dinner. (taywhora)

HI i wrote pancake day taywhora fluff while listening to captital fm waiting for them to come on which never ended up happening. but i decided we still deserved some taywhora content after being promised some, so while i can’t give u a radio interview, i can give u some lesbian au fluff. i hope u like it and i hope u had a lovely pancake day !!!

ao3 link

Tayce liked when she didn’t have to wake up to an alarm. She liked staying in bed on a cold February morning as she watched the bitter wind blow the trees around outside from the comfort under her warm duvet, tangled up with her beautiful girlfriend. Except on this specific February morning, despite the fact that she hadn’t set an alarm, she ended up waking up to one anyway. The alarm of course, was in the form of Awhora. While she would never complain about getting to see her girlfriend so often, especially since they moved in together, she couldn't help but let out a pitiful groan of annoyance.

“Let me sleep, bitch” Her voice was monotone, groggy and muffled by the pillow she had dug her head into as Awhora lightly shook her shoulders in an attempt to get her up. This girl was fucking relentless. 

“Please, it’s pancake day! Are we not gonna make pancakes? It’s like, the law. I promise I’ll do all the work” Tayce just chuckled, she was being an annoying little shit, but at least she was being cute about it. But no amount of cuteness was going to get Tayce out of bed. She knew for a fact she would end up doing the work anyways, Awhora would find a way to get Tayce to do the majority of the whisking, and the flipping, and everything else. She rolled back onto her side to face her girlfriend and wrapped her arms around her whispering a “let’s have five more minutes” but not really meaning it. She wanted more than five minutes. 

Tayce managed to fall back asleep within a couple of minutes, and surprisingly, she was not woken up again until she found her eyes fluttering open again completely by themselves. When her senses caught up to her, she realised she was alone in her bed, and she couldn’t help but feel a little guilty even if she knew Awhora wouldn’t actually be mad at her over some pancakes. She pulled herself together with a stretch and hopped out of the comfort of her bed, though it didn’t feel just as comfy without her other half there with her, to actually find who she was looking for. It wasn’t hard. She heard the TV in the living room playing mindless programmes while Awhora sat on the couch contentedly scrolling through her phone. Tayce stood in the door frame for a second, and some people might have called it a bit creepy, but she liked the way her girlfriends lips were ever so slightly upturned at the ends and how she let herself chuckle when she came across a funny tiktok. Besides, she was allowed to look, to admire. 

However, when Tayce took herself out of her trance and stepped into the living room, Awhora’s face instantly fell a little bit, playing into the faux-annoyance she was trying to sway Tayce with. She could tell by just looking at her that the fight wasn’t over yet, and she was going to whine and whine until she finally got her way, but Tayce at least was stubborn, so she would have quite the battle ahead of her. 

“I promise we will make your pancakes later, will you just let me wake up properly first? I feel like I’m still half asleep.” Awhora huffed at that, but muttered a small ‘fine’ anyway, cosying up next to Tayce.

“I’ll tell you what - I’ll go make myself a cup of tea, and we can make pancakes when I’m done, yeah?” That seemed to do the trick. Tayce stood up and left for the kitchen after placing a quick kiss on her girlfriend's forehead, for good measure, and also because she wanted to anyway. She got to making her tea, fully intending to sip it as slowly as possible, and probably avoid actually making the pancakes until way later. But Awhora didn’t need to know that. She returned after a few minutes with a steaming mug and a smug smile. They watched whatever they could find on the TV that wasn’t completely mind-numbing for the twenty minutes it took Tayce to finish her tea and pop it in the sink. When she returned from the kitchen a second time, Awhora stared at her with wide, pleading eyes. She had not forgotten what Tayce had promised her, and by the look on her face she was not about to give up.

Despite her stubborn-ness, Tayce ended up giving in to Awhora after 5 minutes of bickering, deciding on the fact that being this animated about pancakes is honestly not a good look for her. She allowed Awhora to pull her up from the couch and grab her hand to drag her into the kitchen, where she made a beeline for the fridge. Tayce pulled the flour from out the cupboard, and expected an eager Awhora to be standing next to her with milk and eggs from the fridge on the bench, but instead she just heard a frustrated groan from across the room, followed by a “we don’t have any fucking eggs”

The walk to the nearest co-op was quick, but not too easy. The wind bit at Awhora’s face and made it red, but she didn’t care much because she knew she would get pancakes out of it. Tayce shivered when a particularly cold gust passed by them, and it made her walk the smallest bit closer to Awhora, in an attempt to feed off of her body heat. It didn’t work, but she also stayed just as close, purely because she liked it there. They found the eggs easily, and walked back home as quick as they could, desperate to get out of the cold. The heating had been left on before they left, and they both knew it was just waiting for them to return.

When they did get back, Tayce had decided she was finally in a better mood, the cold having woken her up a little from her lazy Tuesday morning. Awhora put their newly purchased eggs on the bench and fetched the milk from the fridge as Tayce took out a pan, some oil and a bowl and started to heat up their electric hob. 

“Should we just eyeball it?” Awhora’s hopeless optimism when it came to pancakes seemingly came out of nowhere, but Tayce decided to entertain it anyway. It couldn’t do any harm and it made her girlfriend happy, so there wasn’t a reason not to. Eyeballing the mixture probably wasn’t the smartest decision in the world, but they had made enough pancakes in their life to know how much flour was too much flour and just how runny the mixture should be. Mixing it took forever, and Awhora insisted on starting, because she had promised that morning that she would do the work, but it took her about a minute to start complaining that her arm was hurting, and she ended up asking Tayce to take over, which she did.

Tayce poured the first pancake into the pan (Awhora had said she was scared of the hot oil jumping up at her) and let herself smile when it sizzled as it touched the pan. As grumpy as she was this morning, it pulled at her heartstrings a little to be celebrating pancake day with Awhora. She was special to her, and this weirdly domestic holiday made her heart flutter a little if she thought about it too much.

After a couple minutes, the time came for the pancake to be flipped. Tayce insisted she could just use the spatula to turn it over. It would be safer and definitely more successful. But alas, Awhora was insistent on flipping it, because “You aren’t celebrating pancake day right if you aren’t flipping the pancakes, Tayce. That’s half the fun!” So she gave in, because of course she did. The ceremonious flipping of the pancakes came with only a small amount of squealing, some defeated groans when the pancake creased up as it landed back in the pan, but thankfully, there were mostly accomplished exclamations of ‘yes!’ and ‘oh thank fuck’. Surprisingly, not one pancake ended up being burned or, worse, on the floor, and for that Tayce was eternally grateful because she knew she would have to be the one to clean it up. 

Awhora adorned her pancakes with fruit and sugar while Tayce opted for the simple but classic option of nutella. They brought their full plates to the living room and sat on opposite ends of the couch, facing each other (because sitting on chairs properly is completely overrated) and a cosy playlist from Awhora’s spotify played from their communal Alexa, filling in the dips of their conversation as the pair nibbled on their pancakes.

“I’m happy we did this. Sorry if I annoyed you this morning, I just, I don’t know, I thought it would be something nice to do together” Tayce felt a little bad for her mood this morning, and she hated that Awhora thought she had annoyed her, even if it did ring true a little bit. 

“Don’t be sorry, hun. I could never be annoyed at you. Well. Not over pancakes at least, could you believe? Besides, these pancakes are so fucking good. I love this holiday” Awhora laughed loudly at Tayce’s change of heart since the morning. She looked up at her girlfriend from behind her almost empty plate with a softness in her eyes.

“Mhm, well I love you”

“I love you too, Aurora.”

[thebibliomancer]

Essential Avengers: Avengers #237: Meltdowns and Mayhem

November, 1983

Pandemonium at Project Pegasus!

Oo, that might have been a better title! It’s just fun to say! Meltdowns and Mayhem is good too. And mayhem and pandemonium really does describe the cover.

Its one of those big mishmash fight covers. Just a big confusing scrum. And Wasp yelling at She-Hulk for some reason. Yeah, I dunno.

Hey, Spider-Man is still pretty front and center so this is still the Spider-Man Guest Stars, starring the Avengers book.

Oh, and the cool new logo is still here so I guess its the new thing. Rad.

Last time on Avengers: Spider-Man decided he was going to join the Avengers because money. He stowed away when the Avengers were called to an emergency situation at Project Pegasus, which turned out to be lava men. Captain Marvel’s presence accidentally released Nova villain Blackout who freed Moonstone. On her say so, he also freed Rhino and Electro. Captain Marvel also managed to resolve the lava men situation since they for some reason worship her as the prophesied savior the Lady-of-Light.

Avengers lead interesting lives.

This time on Avengers:

Captain Marvel tells the lava men to go home.

And they do.

Spider-Man grouses that he gets no respect from lava men. I’m not sure why he was expecting any?

Cap(tain America) has been briefing Plain Michael O’Brien - the once (and future? when he stops sulking?) Guardsman - on the situation re: the lava men invasion being a big misunderstanding.

Project Pegasus accidentally sent a magma tap right into the lava men village. Common mistake, could have happened to anyone. But O’Brien promises the magma tap will be moved.

Elsewhere in the facility, Moonstone’s quirky quartet watch Cap, O’Brien, and the lava men make peace. With different reactions.

Rhino doesn’t think its a big deal because he wants to pound ‘em. Electro is more hesitant because the Avengers outnumber them as is AND have Spider-Man and Spider-Man pretty consistently kicks his and Rhino’s asses.

Rhino still doesn’t care.

But if Electro doesn’t want to do the superhero fight then he can guard the rear and keep an eye on Blackout who Rhino doesn’t trust anymore than he would Spider-Man.

Because since Blackout is so new a villain (only previous appearance an issue of Nova), Rhino hasn’t heard of him. AND ISN’T IT CONVENIENT THAT A VILLAIN HE’S NEVER HEARD OF RELEASED HIM FROM HIS CELL SAME DAY THE AVENGERS SHOWED UP?

Pretty suspicious.

Blackout is hyperbolic and has a persecution complex even by the standards of supervillains.

Blackout: “How dare you accuse me of such a thing!! You’re just like all the rest! You’re against me... All of you!”

He uses his vague powers to encase Rhino in “solid black-light” and then waxes melodramatic.

I mean look at this shit.

Electro’s reaction to this in-fighting is more on the lines of scoffing at all this nonsense comic book science compared to his super cool normal electricity powers.

Electro: “Solid light? Black-star power? Moonstone, what’s he talking about? Anyone who’s had even a grade-school science education knows that he’s spouting gibberish! Black-light is just ultraviolet...”

Moonstone: “... And what he controls is much more. Yes, I know... But I don’t think that he fully knows.”

Wow. Co-villains be snarkin’.

Also, while Blackout continues monologuing about how anyone that stands against him will be merged with the light spectrum (???), Rhino just breaks out of the solid black-light, grabs Blackout, and goes to bounce Blackout against the wall until he blacks out.

But Moonstone and Electro separate the idiots and reminds them that they should be more mad at the Project Pegasus scientists who imprisoned them.

AND MOONSTONE HAS A PLAN, of course.

Back two levels down where the lava men plot is still wrapping up.

The lava men have gathered around the magma pit with the lead lava men chanting for the powers of earth to carry them home if they could kthx.

Spectating Spider-Man: This is screwy! He just keeps chanting and waving his arms over the trashed opening to the old magma pit, like he was some second-rate Dr. Strange! What’s he think he’s going to accomplish?

And then the earth blasts magma up from the pit and whisks the the lava men away home to Spider-Man’s great incredulity.

I mean, sure, the Avengers’ lives are weird but is this really weirder than your own life, Spidey?

Just a few years before this comic, Amazing Spider-Man #2 had to be retconned so you wouldn’t have dealt with aliens in only your second issue. Your life is weird!

Anyway, since the lava men are gone, Wasp decides its time to rip Spider-Man a new one for stowing away and interfering with Avengers’ business.

Spider-Man: “I’m sorry, Wasp. I...”

Wasp: “Sorry?! Is that all you can say for yourself? Well, I should hope you’re sorry! You might have sacrificed our entire mission!”

Spider-Man: I really blew it this time! “I only meant to help, Wasp. I just wanted to show you that I’d make a good Avengers... But I guess you’d never consider me for membership now, huh?”

Wasp: “I didn’t say that! If you promise not to ever do anything this rash again, we’ll see what we can do about making you an Avengers-in-training!”

(Good to see Wasp got over her inexplicable ‘ew spiders are gross’ phase from the 60s)

Much excitement until Spider-Man remembers that he didn’t want to be an in-training and protests what would he even need training for?

Captain America: “Well, for one thing, to learn how to follow orders!”

Hah!

Its like a criticism sandwich. ‘You almost fucked everything up!’ ‘But we still want you to join us.’ ‘But you need to learn teamwork dammit!’

I’ll give Spidey credit, after I was a bit rude last time, that he has learned to take criticism between the time in Amazing #1 and now. He didn’t immediately jump out a window rather than face embarrassment at fucking up. Part of that is probably that he’s underground in a government facility and there’s no good place to run away but still, some of it has to be growth.

Scarlet Witch backs Cap up that all the Avengers had to learn how to work together as a unit.

Wasp and Cap also mention that if he becomes an Avenger, he can keep his private life private but no secret superpowers. The Avengers need to know what each other can do in a pinch.

This is news to Starfox who begins musing about his own SECRET SUPERPOWER (which I’m pretty sure I’ve spilled the beans on repeatedly already). Since there hasn’t been a situation where his SECRET POWER would have been useful, he just hasn’t mentioned it but not wonders whether he should just tell the other Avengers or maybe lean into the omission and keep not mentioning it forever.

I feel option 2 isn’t a great idea but, hey, you do you spaceman.

Anyway, Spider-Man agrees that telling them about his cool powers is a fair trade for becoming an Avenger. And seriously, he’s prone to explain his powers at the drop of a hat anyway so this is no kind of huge task.

Wasp decides that they should return to the mansion so they can get this wrapped up and O’Brien shows the Avengers the cool and not at all dangerous vortex beam transport tube.

The vortex beam propels the passengers up and is apparently susceptible to irony. Because as soon as Spider-Man asks what would happen if the power went out, the beam fails and the Avengers start plummeting twenty stories.

Thankfully, Captain Marvel, Wasp, and Starfox can fly and Spider-Man catches the rest in a web net after catching himself against the wall of the tube.

Maybe stick to elevators and stairs, Project Pegasus.

But O’Brien protests that there are hundreds of failsafes and automatic safety systems that would have had to fail for them to plummet even if the vortex beam lost power.

This was SABOTAGE.

On Wasp’s order, She-Hulk punches them an egress into the side of the tube.

O’Brien gets over to a security monitor and discovers the breakout. The guy on the other end of the monitor informs him that the four escaped prisoners are on their way to the nuclear research dome.

Wouldn’t you know it! The Avengers just left and now they have to head back.

They find that the doors to the dome have been melted and Starfox and She-Hulk have to KRA-THOOM them open to pieces.

Spider-Man: Geez, next to those two, I feel like a 98-pound weakling!

Unfortunately, its one impediment after another. Past the doors into the dome, there’s a big black wall that’s not supposed to be there.

Spider-Man tries climbing it but slides right down, to his bafflement.

Spider-Man: “I can climb a wall of teflon if I have to! What’s this thing made of?”

She-Hulk tries punching it and finds that it breaks just fine but when she BAMs a hole in it, Electro zaps her with electricity through it. And the hole seals up when Spider-Man tries to web Electro.

Moonstone starts broadcasting through a monitor so she can gloat that her boys and her have taken over the nuclear research dome which means they’re in control of the whole project and the Avengers (plus Spider-Man) can’t do a thing to stop them.

And as a pretty vehement gtfo, Electro juices up with a backpack connected to the dome’s nuclear generator and electrifies the black wall.

So now the Avengers can’t even try to punch through.

Wasp: “Dangerous or not, we still have to get through and stop this madness! That wall has to come down... and you’re the one best equipped to handle that -- Wanda!”

And her probability borking powers are, as ever, a good do anything button.

Its not very probable for Blackout’s barrier to break down but it does! And its not probable for the electricity on the barrier to discharge into Electro but wouldn’t you know it, Wanda waved her hands a certain way and its happening!

Supervillains hate her. Her one weird trick for doing heroics.

But with the barrier down, Rhino charges the Avengers (plus Spider-Man), bowling over Starfox who was probably momentarily baffled to see a man dressed as a rhino charging him.

Captain Marvel dodges Rhino in her light form only to be immediately captured in a bubble by Blackout.

Alas, she had such a good showing this issue. I guess Stern decided that some other people needed time to look cool.

Spider-Man jumps on Rhino while he bowls through the Avengers and Starfox punches Blackout in the head for capturing Monica.

Blackout: “You think you can intimidate me just because you can fly?! Well, you’re wrong! Wrong! Blackout can also defy gravity!”

Starfox: “A challenge! Marvelous!”

Blackout sure is something. Like I said, even for a supervillain, he sure is something.

But its funny how Blackout and Starfox are on completely different wavelengths.

Electro recovers from getting Wanda’d and goes to fry Spider-Man but Cap(tain America) throws his mighty shield and severs the cord giving him extra juice.

Spider-Man, webbing the cord so its not a hazard: “Thanks for the quick save, Cappy!”

Captain America: “Don’t mention it, son! That’s just teamwork in action!”

It’s a teachable moment. Cap-style.

Electro tries to fry Cap for interfering but Cap’s mighty shield blocks... the... electricity. Okay, its metal though. Where is the charge going??

Scarlet Witch comes to ruin Electro’s day twice-over and waves her do-anything hands at him.

He scoffs that nothing happened and then immediately passes out.

Cap: “Wanda? What the blazes did you do to him?”

Scarlet Witch: “Basically, I tried to make all the carbon dioxide in the room cluster around his head, so he’d pass out from temporary lack of oxygen. Looks like it worked!”

Cap: “Uh... yes!”

Cap’s thinking ‘damn Wanda, you’re scary.’

The thing about do-anything powers like Wanda’s is that she really should be able to shut down most opponents like this but she probably won’t do this very often because it would be boring.

Meanwhile, Spider-Man blindfolds Rhino with webbing and lets him ram through a wall.

Rhino: “A few inches of steel don’t mean anything to me!”

She-Hulk: “Is that so? Well, how about a few knuckles of She-Hulk? Does that mean anything? Hmmph! I guess it does!”

I mean, you didn’t have to phrase it that way but good job, She-Hulk! You punched him in his rhino face.

And it was more good teamwork from Spidey. He set ‘em up, She-Hulk knocked ‘im down.

Also meanwhile, Captain Marvel is fed up with not being able to escape Blackout’s globe. And, hey, nice touch, from the outside we can see that the globe is wholly opaque so yes, it would be impenetrable to the visible light spectrum.

And no matter what energy she tries, she can’t get out. But she does a force-blast and that does bust the globe.

Whiiiiich distracts Starfox as he chases Blackout around the room and Blackout takes advantage of the distraction to blast Starfox.

Captain Marvel: “You devil! I’ll get you for that!”

Blackout: “Get me? Yes, you all try -- don’t you? You’re all out to get me!”

In this situation? Yes they are! Ya goof.

In the control room, Moonstone knows that Rhino, Electro, and Blackout don’t stand a chance to beat the Avengers but all she needs is for them to be a distraction while she uses the controls.

Wasp flies in but too late. Moonstone blasts not Wasp but the control panel.

Her plan all along was to destroy Project Pegasus for daring to study her powers like she was some kind of lab rat. And with the controls destroyed, she’s confidant that the Avengers won’t be able to stop what she started.

She blinds Wasp by doing a taiyoken with her chest and then flees out the evacuation exit, gloating that Project Pegasus is about to get very unpleasant.

What a goof.

Blackout also takes the opportunity to escape, sealing the exit behind him with one of his black light constructs.

Captain Marvel starts to blast through but Wasp tells her that there’s no time to chase supervillains right now, the reactor is going critical.

Spider-Man: “Critical? Is someone being critical again?”

Wasp: “This is no joking matter, Spider-Man! Moonstone’s left the reactor in an awful state!”

Spidey seriouses up immediately and goes to take a look, commenting that he has a little scientific training.

Oh, hey, another great reason to have Spider-Man join the team. He can be the new science guy and Starfox can get back to being the flirt. Everyone would be happier then.

And then Spidey even more seriouses up.

Spider-Man: “Moonie pulled all of the damping rods out of the power core! If we can’t get them back in place, we’ll have a meltdown that’ll leave the entire project uninhabitable for the new hundred-thousand years!”

Geez, Moonstone! You don’t half-ass revenge!

Moonstone broke the controls so they can’t just plunk the damping rods back into place. Wanda’s do-anything powers could do it, if she wanted to melt before she could do it.

Apparently her powers are reliant on direct line-of-sight (even though that doesn’t gel with when she fought the Wizard recently) but the radiation levels are so high in the reactor that she doubts even She-Hulk would survive it.

But Captain Marvel could.

Radiation wouldn’t affect her energy forms and she can get into the reactor through the circuity in the control room.

Spider-Man gets on a microphone and tries to walk Captain Monica through what she needs to do.

She needs to cut through all five supports on the damping rod assembly. If the assembly doesn’t fall as a unit, NUCLEAR DISASTER.

Captain Marvel zips about as a laser, I guess, cutting through the supports. One isn’t cut through all the way through, giving Spider-Man a startle, but Monica zips about lightspeed and finishes cutting through, allowing the assembly to fall into place with a WHUNK.

Spider-Man: “The reactor’s shutting down. Uh.. Can someone help me get my heart restarted?”

Ha, I like Cap(tain America)’s ‘whew’ gesture.

Y’know, the selling point of this arc seems to be ‘HEY LOOK SPIDER-MAN IS HERE’ but its been more of a Captain Marvel focused story. She resolves the lava man situation and she has a ‘this looks like a job for Aquaman’ moment with the reactor too.

Still, Spidey pulled his weight. He c-c-c-combo’d Rhino with She-Hulk. His spider-sense came in handy. And he got to be a science guy since Starfox was knocked out.

I tend to be iffy on Spider-Man as an Avenger overall but heck, lets have him on the team!

Later, after Spider-Man’s heart gets restarted and everyone has returned to the Mansion, Cap and Wasp call the Government (specifically their liaison Mr. Sikorski who doesn’t want to be here and hates dealing with superheroes. Its frankly amazing that Gyrich’s understudy is a worse Avengers liaison than him) to request clearance for Spider-Man to become a new trainee Avenger.

And over slightly to the left, presumably off-camera from the call Wasp and Cap are having, Spider-Man ponders whether this is actually something he wants.

He still doesn’t like the idea of being treated as a rookie. He’s been superheroing since he was in high school and darnit, he’s dropped out of grad school by this point! And he doesn’t know whether he’s a good fit for a team at all.

But on the other hand, he’s got a thousand good reasons (a week) to join. I’m sorry, I typed reasons, I meant dollars.

But what Spider-Man does and does not want becomes a bit moot as Mr. Sikorski shoots the idea down flat.

Mr. Sikorski: “Spider-Man?! Are you out of your minds? We have a file on him that’s a yard long -- and it still doesn’t tell us a blasted thing about him! The man’s a major security risk! No! I absolutely forbid it!”

God. He even wags his finger at Cap and Wasp.

The nerve.

The unmitigated gall.

Spider-Man takes this with all due sour grapes.

Spider-Man: “They’ll okay, Starfox -- a guy from outer space -- but my own government won’t approve me?”

Yeah, that’s a good point!

Cap offers to go over Mr. Sikorski’s head by going right to the president (which in FAIRNESS is kinda how Starfox got on the team) but Spider-Man tells Cap not to bother.

I’d guess a combination of bruised pride and ‘oh thank god now I don’t have to make a decision, I just get to be indignant about it.’

Spider-Man: “Naw, don’t put yourself out, Cap! Me joining the Avengers was a dumb idea anyway! But I’ll tell you one thing... my Congressman is definitely gonna hear about this!”

Sad Starfox with an icepack on his head: “Congressman? What on Earth is a Congressman?”

Hah.

Also, the tiny next issue box promises UNLIMITED VISION which is definitely not ominous at alllll.

So! Not a bad two-parter by any means! It is a shame that Spider-Man can’t join the Avengers, because of the government and probably writers and editorial, he has a fun dynamic with the team.

But in these times where Marvel tried to keep things consistent in the shared universe, a big guy with his own book like Spider-Man would be difficult. I mean, they’ve only recently written out Thor and Iron Man for having troubles in their own books and Spider-Man is constantly having trouble in his book.

Your time will come eventually, Spidey.

Follow @essential-avengers​ because maybe one day I’ll get to the point where Spider-Man is a reserve member. Also like and reblog because I like to feel liked.

[purkinje-effect]

The Anatomy of Melancholy, 70: Something Old, Something New

Table of Contents. Third Instar, Chapter 1. First chapter of Third Instar; go to previous. Go to next. TWs: Canon-typical animal violence, hostile locals.

In the shape of things to come.

_______________________

It should have jolted ‘Choly electric, when Sticks turned over Little Boy Blue with the rhythmic sequence of soft chirps from its push-button transmission. Yet, the smooth uniform purring of the fusion engine left him doe-eyed sinking deeper into the ancient moving blanket that had been folded lengthwise and tucked down atop the otherwise exposed re-stuffed guts of the passenger seat’s upholstery. A lone Mister Handy fuel tank tucked itself behind him.

Sticks had replaced the front driver’s seat with a balding duct-taped armchair, trimmed to fit; he had also replaced the entire back seat with a footlocker, to make extra room inside the vehicle. The ghoul had paid the interior far more attention in flirting after perfectionism, with what he could loot from Concord nearby. His flux welding intimated once present chrome contours, the refinished salvaged wood, its prior vinyl wood paneling. The ghoul drew down the parking lever, now a screwdriver with a leather-wrapped handle, took the freshly royal blue 2071 Chryslus Coupe out of neutral, and eased it out from under the canopy of the Red Rocket Truck Stop to exit the parking lot.

Before ‘Choly could register to wave to the Sanctuary settlers out the open window behind them, Sticks had shifted into third and spirited them down to the first light to turn East into Concord. He sank down in his seat again, and folded his gloved hands in his lap.

‘Choly supposed that the two of them were just as patched together as Blue--though Angel would certainly have argued it took the cake for this distinction, were it in on his internal monologue. The composite Mister Handy had powered off its thruster on Blue’s roof, where Sticks had latched it down with a pair of tow chains, hooked around the rear pillars of the blown-out back windows. From atop the car, its Mister Gutsy grade sensors would provide them with a slightly greater forewarning of incumbent road hazards.

Sticks slapped the steel dashboard and laughed.

“Hah! aren’t the hydraulics just riding like a dream.” He beamed, petting at it. “Ohh, sometimes I surprise even myself.”

“It’s skating on glass,“ ‘Choly agreed, his attention squarely on the ghoul. He chewed at his lip. “Are you sure you don’t need another nap? We could pull in behind the Wright’s Inn, and you could recline--”

Rather than answer, Sticks zipped left and picked up a speed more befitting an automobile. With the windows down, the quarter windows open, and the floor vents unlatched, the crisp breeze disturbed ‘Choly’s headspace before it could sour. He tugged his golf visor down on his head, and coughed a bit at the smell of the road kicking up in the floorboards, but he welcomed the fresh air, as the air conditioning was the one notable thing Sticks had not managed to restore in some capacity.

He couldn’t get the ghoul to admit how he’d managed a (mostly) in-tact windshield, when there hadn’t been a scrap of glass left on the husk of the car after laying on its side for the better part of two hundred years.

‘Choly reached up to put a hand on the roof. Angel tapped it emphatically, reassuringly. His eyes couldn’t follow the scenery as they zipped along Route 62.

“Have you been further North than Lowell?”

“Oh, yeah. No further than Ant, though. Never been reason for me to. This’ll be a first.”

Route 62 changed over to Route 4 as it eased North. Sticks swerved around a bit of road debris, but did not otherwise slow down. ‘Choly fretted that little remained of the junkyard, after the fusion engines of automobile and robotics alike had exploded last he’d been this way. Sticks decided to push Blue’s constitution and gunned it up to sixty, then eighty.

As the scenery blurred past them and even with the correct prescription of eyewear on his face, ‘Choly shook his daze and instead squinted at the map on his Pip-Boy.

“Ant? As in... ants?”

“Don’t overthink it. We’re not stopping. Straight shot to Nashua.” The ghoul belted another laugh, letting the wind whisk his noseless face and last locks of blond hair. “I haven’t had a car run this smooth in eighty years. Maybe more.”

“You did great...” 'Choly admired his enthusiasm and pride of craftsmanship. “I doubt anybody else could’ve done what you’ve done.”

“You can say that again.” Sticks threw a hand across the back of ‘Choly’s headrest, and rubbed at his shoulder. ‘Choly leaned into it. “With how well he runs, we might be able to get back to Goodneighbor by the end of the week. --Fuck Tucker Bridge, though. Fuck it to Hell.”

“You really think we’re on the road for a while then?” He picked at the radio dials before deciding not to see if WXXX was the only surviving station in the area. “Shouldn’t we stop to loot in Tyngsborough or Chelmsford, then? There’s plenty of silt flour for a month or two, but I’ll need way more than a bottle of mouthwash and a half tube of toothpaste if we don’t want to have to choose between using it and my eating it.”

“For real. Don’t sweat it. If I were worried about groceries, I’d have had us stay over in Billerica to loot on the way down. Still can’t quite wrap my head around you getting by on that stuff, ya know.”

“Mm.”

Several minutes passed where they took in the sound of the open road. The unevenness of the rubbled roadway became more obvious to ‘Choly in the break in conversation, although Blue cleared a majority of it without hesitation.

“Say, where do you see us a year from now, anyway?”

“Is this your way of proposing to me?” ‘Choly turned to him with a starstruck start. “Next you’ll tell me you’ve got rings in that Cram tin.”

Sticks turned thoughts over in his head a bit.

“Well, there are rings in there. But they’re not for you. That box of rocks is our insurance.”

“I suppose I’ve spoiled the game, then.”

“You’re the one who had a proposal at all, you know. The proposal I was meaning. Gee, you really are head over heels for me, if you’re already talking about getting old.”

“I haven’t been thawed out for a whole year yet. It’s hard to imagine getting any older than I already am, let alone with you. ...You really think you’ll stick with me a whole year?”

“Many more, is the idea. Hopefully, you’ll stick with me.”

“...I meant to do that.”

“Sure,” the ghoul grinned, giving him a side-eye.

It took less than an hour for them to pass through the residential ruins of Chelmsford and Tyngsborough, though variably dense evergreens paved much of their way. The Merrimack ran against them to the right, coiling back and forth out of sight. Blue skipped a wet patch on Route 3A, spraying a muddy mist up into the floorboards and getting the two to sputtering and laughing.

Sticks slowed as they neared the invisible demarcation which once divided Massachusetts and New Hampshire. ‘Choly was about to crack a joke about speed limits, only to notice the three figures, in mostly combat armor, attending the military road blockade ahead. ‘Choly straightened in his seat as Sticks slowed to a stop.

The elder of two women stepped up to the driver’s side coddling the hulking chrome and steel form of an assault rifle. The other two guards aimed directly at the vehicle.

“You sure are a bad habit.” She chewed at a cigar.

“Sergeant Bea.” Sticks gave her an awful grin. “Just passing through. If that’s all right with you.”

She stooped to squint and scowl at ‘Choly. He swallowed hard and gave her a tepid smile.

“Sticks, you’ve got one minute to get that pile of metal shit off the Lane before I tell Gerald he’s got target practice.”

“Be out of your hair in half that,” he blandished. “Good to see you again, love.”

She told him off as they continued past. He casually waved his middle finger out the window, keeping his eyes ahead of him.

“You’re just on everyone’s good side, aren’t you?” ‘Choly wrung his hands, still stiff against the seat.

“Laners hate machines, is all. Can’t appreciate a fine automobile.”

As Sticks accelerated again, ‘Choly wondered whether Sticks’s reservations coming this way had more to do with the locals than the climate. He slouched, only to see a towering projection screen come up on their right. Agape, he nearly hung out the window, clutching at his visor. In the parking lot of what had once been a Starlight Drive-In, now stood a bustling flea market. A romance flickered anciently on the screen.

“Sticks, there’s people here. A hundred, maybe. People.” Under his breath, he murmured, “I wonder if they’ve got any horror movies.”

The ghoul scoffed.

“People with a stick up their asses, more like it.”

They passed the parking lot of a large shopping mall. Before ‘Choly could get into him, gunfire rang. A dozen mutated waterfowl the size of a human assailed around twenty settlers armed with shotguns, pole hooks, and bludgeons. Sticks sped up and ‘Choly grabbed him by the arm.

“The fuck are you doing!” the ghoul yelled. “Gerald’s their missile man!”

“We’ve got to go help them!”

“They don’t want our help!”

'Choly shook Sticks until he loathingly relented, then tried uselessly to unlatch the tow hooks in the back seat. Once he managed it, Angel lit its thruster and sped off saws blazing headlong toward the Radfowl. ‘Choly hadn’t expected to need to have a weapon at the ready. Sticks, meanwhile, hunched into the steering wheel with the determination to mow at least one goose-like thing down with the traffic barrier he’d bolted where Blue once had a front bumper.

The Mister Handy and the vehicle beset the composure of the locals far in excess of the fowl. As Blue connected with a pair of birds, the locals they’d squared off with immediately lashed out at the front of the car with their baseball bats. One punctured the trunk hood with their pole hook.

“HEY!” Sticks roared. He laid on the horn, and the three scattered to assist the others.

‘Choly shakily unholstered his Nagant. Before he could aim out his own window, a pair of Radfowl had rushed to snap and snarl in the driver’s side. One chomped down on Sticks’s upper arm where it could get at him, and he let out a groan. At close range, it felt more like administering tranquilizers with a jet injector rather than the modified syringer revolver he’d endeared as the Tryasovitsy. Their gnarly tusk-like teeth scraped at the door on the birds’ way down to the pavement.

‘Choly tried to get a better look, but Sticks shoved him back, to reach for the hunting rifle he’d tucked between the seat and door. He took aim and fired on one of the fowl.

“Just get your damn robot back over here before they beat the shit out of it.”

“Angel’s doing well with the birds--”

“--I meant the Laners.”

Another massive goose-like thing ran flailing toward the passenger side and ‘Choly reflexively drew on it, emptying the rest of his barrel of Pax Syringes with a choking panic. Once the last of the geese dropped, he sank back in his seat to steady ragged breathing.

Sticks got out of the car long enough to shoot the two Radfowl sedated on the driver’s side. An older man in fishing overalls with a shotgun came up and finished off the Radfowl on ‘Choly’s side before aiming the gun at him. A pair of teens had picked up the tow chains and approached Angel, swinging them slow and furious.

“We’re just trying to help!” ‘Choly squeaked out at the man. He dropped the silenced revolver in his lap in an instant. “We don’t mean you any harm!”

“You fucker. Ruined perfectly good meat,” the Laner snapped, repulsed and hateful. “Can’t eat drugged meat.”

“Please!” ‘Choly adjusted in his seat when he realized his sudden lurch could’ve seemed like hostility rather than begging. “Don’t hurt my Handy. We’re leaving! I swear it!”

“You’ve already wasted enough of our time. Tussling with you ain’t worth it.” The older man kicked at the concrete with a growl that punctuated in a hiss. “What did you think you were doing! Horning in on our hunt!?"

“Hunt?” ‘Choly frowned, guiltily incredulous. “You were attacking them?”

“You shouldn’t have risked yourselves like that. We had it under control. Get your goddamn tin can liabilities off the Lane!”

“Forgive us,” Sticks started. The man brandished a finger at him, warning that they keep their distance.

“And you can’t have any of our Radfowl meat!”

“All yours. Sorry to be trouble, folks. Angel! Come on, chap.”

Sticks waved to the Laners to gesticulate for the berth to reverse enough to turn around. They all glowered at the pair before getting to dressing their kills.

“The fuck is wrong with these people,” ‘Choly finally blurted out.

“Listen to me next time? I told you we didn’t need to help them.”

“Of course we did, Mister Hawthorne.” Angel swept around to the driver’s side where Sticks could hear its indignity. “It’s not our fault they’re ingrates!”

“Are you sure you’re all right? Those things have more teeth than a shark.”

“There had better be a Stimpak there. Or something.” He snorted to shrug off a pout. “Not like I’m bleeding out. Hurts, but I’ll live.”

“There’s definitely a full assortment of first aid stock at the warehouse. I’ll patch you up once we get inside. ...Sorry that I didn’t listen.”

“You keep doing the exact opposite of what I tell you, and it keeps biting you in the ass. This time, it bit me in the arm. Got a right mind to start telling you to do the opposite of what I think you’ll do.”

Now that they’d crossed the New Hampshire state line, ‘Choly produced the folder he’d tucked between the center console and seat, to skim Gretchen’s landmark location directory again. Going North on the Daniel Webster Highway, you’ll pass the Pheasant Lane Mall on your right. Crossing under a double overpass, there’s a Luxurique lot and cemetery on your left. The Nashua warehouse is at the next left.

“Let’s just... keep onward. Priorities. Right.” ‘Choly sighed. “We made good time getting up here. There’s still plenty of daylight left. The warehouse shouldn’t be more than ten minutes from here, provided we don’t encounter more locals.”

Go to next »»»

[nuka-nuke]

First Line Meme

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favourite opening line. Then tag some of your favourite authors!

Tagged by @tarberrymentats thank you so much Halk 💕 I learned from this that I always start most of my stories one of two ways: 

1. talking about how hot it is, or 2. very short dialogue. Sigh. (also most of my writing is not actually posted anywhere, because I am a shy, anxious fool)

Tagging: @catastrotaffy , @mojave-musing , @mojavejourneys and @redrocketwarrior

Featuring mentions of OCs that don’t belong to me: Lena, Adam, Lucky, Mike, and Cliff.

1. A Little Less Conversation (Fallout New Vegas, Dizzy x Lucky)

The July sun hung low and hot in the late afternoon Mojave sky, indiscriminately torching the dusty streets of Freeside and the New Vegas strip alike - regardless of how separated by walls of garbage and wealth they might be.

2. Blue Christmas (Fallout New Vegas, Dizzy x Lucky) 

“I fuckin’ hate Christmas.”

3. Only Fools Rush In (Fallout New Vegas, Dizzy x Lucky)

The afternoon sun filled the loft bedroom with a cozy, comfortable glow, shining down the typically strong desert heat across all that it could manage to embrace.

4. Treat Me Nice (Fallout New Vegas, Dizzy x Lucky) 

“Wake up, Dizzy...”

5. Devil in Disguise (Fallout New Vegas, Ace Euler) 

It must have been some sort of ungodly hour of the early morning when Ace was awoken by the sound of that damned crow making her presence known through the open window of the pre-war penthouse she had found him in.

6. Adore Me (Fallout New Vegas, Dizzy x Cliff)

Dizzy stood in front of the tall, curiously undamaged mirror that leaned against the wall of the bathroom, staring into his own nervous green eyes and struggling to avoid looking over the rest of his body.

7. Wingman (Fallout New Vegas, Dizzy, Duke and Cliff)

The air within the Atomic Wrangler was thick and stagnant with a combination of the Mojave heat and smoke; a heavy haze that flowed like a river between the large crowd of people loitering around the floor.

8. “You Can Do This” (Fallout 76, Red, Landon, and Lena)

“What does it feel like, Papa?”

9. Love Letters (Fallout 4, Ilya x Mike)

It was fairly early into the summer months, and already the humidity of Massachusetts was bringing on a familiar haze to the theme park.

10. Meeting Mike (Fallout 4, Gage, Ilya x Mike)

“An’ another thing,  Boss…” It was always “and another thing".

11. Sunflower (Fallout 4, Ilyana x Adam)

Ilyana sat at the bar in the center of his home, the towering mountain made of concrete and fiberglass, with hazy blue eyes fixated on the hands of the clock on the wall that had yet to move for the past two-hundred years.

12. Insomnia (Fallout 4, Ilya x Mike)

“Please don’t do this!”

13. Reporter (Fallout 4, Ilyana x Piper)

“Can we stop running yet? I think I might be dying.”

14. Nuka Wild (Fallout 4, Ilya Valle)

“Stay the fuck down, or I swear I won’t hesitate to kill you.”

15. Spit It Out (Fallout New Vegas, Duke x Dizzy)

“Duke…” The dark-haired King didn’t even need to open his eyes to be able to identify the source of the whispering voice that began to whisk him out of his pleasant dreaming sleep and back into reality.

16. Dream 2: Electric Boogaloo (Fallout New Vegas, Duke x Dizzy x Cliff)

Dizzy tasted exactly how he’d always imagined he would: sweet like candy, strong like cigarettes, warm and wonderful.

17. Cringe (Fallout 4, Ilyana x Adam)

“This is the one. Here.”

18. Separate Ways, Chapter 1. All Shook Up (Fallout New Vegas)

The evening streets of Freeside were bare and silent - those few souls who still found themselves out at such an hour walked with haste through the shadowed shells of burnt out buildings, trying to find their refuge in homes scrounged together out of the lasting fragments of an era long gone, lest something much less welcoming found them first.

19. Separate Ways, Chapter 2. Hard Headed Woman

Duke was lounged casually in the shade of one of the many tents encompassing the perimeter of the fort, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.

20. Separate Ways, Chapter 3. As Long As I Have You

“Goddamn it Rey, I fucking hate you!”

[hufflepuffhollander]

fire and gasoline (mob!tom series) ch. 1: new vendetta

a/n | wooo buckle in this is a wild ride 😼 and pls share w the world! i’m proud of this one!

synopsis | Your family runs a sect of the british mafia. Tom Holland is the son of the mob leader in your rival gang. You’ve been groomed to be at each other’s throats for as long as you can remember, and a chance run-in after over a decade of feuding and secrecy has you questioning everything you thought you knew.

cw | mob!tom au. enemies to lovers. language, angst, death threats, objectification, sexual tension, and lots of spit. 3.1k words.

read the prologue, join the taglist :)

Roxy’s was your spot- it always had been. The dark alleyway entrance, the smoky air inside that concealed who you truly were, the faceless regulars that just knew to leave you be- it was everything you could want in a local bar. So, instead of somewhere a little cheerier, you chose here; instead of a glimmering club with strobe effects to blind you and music loud enough to burst your eardrums, you decided to spend your birthday where you knew you could melt into the blackness of the night and live mess-free, even if it was just for a few hours.

You had just gotten your second round of drinks with a few friends, your heels clicking from across the room as you wandered over to your table with freshly topped off shot glasses. A brand new, skin-tight black dress paired with electric blue heels adorned you, and the birthday glow radiating across your skin had you looking and feeling like absolutely nothing could bring you down. You were celebrating, you had just landed a major deal with a supplier to your casino; and better yet, you hadn’t heard from the Hollands in weeks. Since their failed attempt at taking out your father during a high-profile event, they had been lying low, full of shame. A recent victory for your family in the never-ending turf war with the Hollands? Not a single mention of Dom or Nikki thwarting your plans in days? Well, that was the best birthday present a girl could ask for. 

You barely had time to feel the gin roll down your throat before the bar door was shoved open, bells tied in a knot overhead chiming ominously as it felt like a tornado had blown in. The room fell quiet, the punkish music on repeat seeming to mute itself. Even the smoke moving through the air was put on pause. Everyone was eyeballing the doorway, where two heavily armed young men stood rigidly; right behind them, a pale, muscular boy with the scent of his own ego radiating off him, a slick smile painted across his face. Every part of your body suddenly felt ice cold.

The boy took off his glasses, the sheer notion that he was wearing wayfarers at night making you groan, and coated the room with his gaze until it landed—and stayed—on you. You tried to avert your attention but couldn’t, as a wave of realization fell over you when he made eye contact. You knew this fuckwad. It was Tom Holland- the son of your rival mob, the boy your father always told you to imagine a target was when learning to sharpshoot...the one who had orchestrated the failed assassination of your dad. Your belly filled with a white-hot fire at the audacity he had to show his face here. Who did he think he was? What the hell was he doing on the East side? And did he know he had just walked into his own execution?

You would’ve seen it through, too, had he not been about to strike you square in the face with a curveball.

“We’re closed.” you heard Roxy spit out, not even bothering to look at the boys as she dried a glass.

“Doesn’t seem like it, babe,” Tom sneered, flashing her an insincere smile and focusing his attention back on you. “And anyway, we aren’t staying; I just came here with a message for the birthday girl.”

You fantasized about a knife appearing on the table in front of you so you could slice the little bitch to shreds for even daring to acknowledge you. But no such luck.

Tom whisked past the bar front, taking his time to saunter over towards your booth. You had bribed your security guard to let you take the night off- he was only there because of your dad’s doing, so he could breathe easier when you were out of his sight. But you hated feeling like a little kid needing to be babysat, especially tonight, when you were turning a year older, and paid him off to get doped up with a friend instead of coming with you. You were kicking yourself for that decision now, watching Tom come up to you without a hint of fear in his dark, shimmering eyes. 

You hadn’t seen him since you were kids, when you had told everyone you were getting married to the cute boy you played with and exchanged candy rings with him in your backyard.

“My my, what an impressive array of barbies,” Tom laughed as he stopped in front of your table, swiping his tongue across his teeth. “any of you pretty things looking to blow this joint?” 

Your few friends looked simultaneously revolted and terrified, and you knew they lived their lives too sugarcoated to witness the interaction you were about to have. 

“Girls, you should leave,” you said, giving them a concerned stare, and it took them less than a second to get up and bolt. Some real friends you had.

You tried to remain composed as you turned your attention to Tom, syllables seething through your gritted teeth. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?” 

“Aww, baby, that’s no way to greet an old friend, is it? ‘Coulda least let me wish you a happy birthday,” he sat down on the bench across from you, making you recoil into your seat. “I even have a candle you can blow, if you like.”

“Don’t flatter yourself, asshole.”

“Well someone just isn’t feeling very sentimental, hmm? You remember all those years ago, playing hide and go seek in your mansion, holding hands under the dinner table...I think I remember you having it pretty bad for me back then-”

“You must have a death wish, huh?” you cut him off, standing up and advancing towards him, but taking a step back as he stood up to meet you and towered over you menacingly. He smelled like cigar smoke and cherry aftershave and it clouded your thoughts. You’d always said you’d kill him if he ever got this close to you. Why were you faltering now when it mattered most? Your heart couldn’t keep up with your head.

“No, doll. Not tonight, and definitely not in a place like this. But I gotta admit, I was not expecting you to look so fucking good after all these years. Pop had me believing you were some kind of ugly recluse. Makes it extra difficult for me to tell you to give daddy a call before your birthday is over,” his eyes hungrily flicked over you in your dress, making your blood boil. “y’know, tell him you love him.”

“The hell are you talking about?” you reached for your purse where your pistol was lodged, but felt a cold piece of metal touch the back of your head, halting your movements.

“I wouldn’t, if I were you,” said minion #1, standing behind you with the barrel of his gun nestled into your curled hair. You swallowed nervously and felt your heart rate skyrocket. The bar seemed to have emptied out; it was just you, Tom, and the promise of death caressing your scalp, and you had nowhere to go.

“Hey, now, Harrison, there’s no need for that! y/n and I go way back,” Tom said, motioning for his friend to lower the weapon. Deeply buried flashbacks of child you linked arm in arm with child Tom flicked through your mind, memories you had suppressed long ago.

“Love,” Tom started, advancing towards you again, leaving you nowhere to go if you didn’t want gun grease staining your head. “I’m simply hinting that you may want to get out any last sentiments before we bleed him out on his crisp white sheets tonight.”

Your eyes widened in panic, and your words came out stuttered. “Y-you’re bluffing-”

“You so sure of that, baby?” He clicked his tongue against his teeth, leaning his head in so his face was only inches from yours. “You tellin’ me you know he’s safe and sound right now? Or does an itty, bitty part of you think that maybe, when his baby girl and best insurance policy went out for drinks, it left his ass dangling out in the open, just begging to get capped?”

Your nostrils flared and your teeth were clenched so hard together that you were sure they’d break, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t fight. You were stuck in the space of Tom as his cool breath violated your cheeks, suddenly picturing violent images of your family in a pool of blood.

Your eyebrows raised with each syllable you spoke, trying your best to conceal the incredible stress eating at you from the inside. “Get...the fuck...out of my face.”

Tom did something that almost made you combust then, swiping his thumb across the bottom of your chin, grinning, and blowing a smooch at you before finally drawing back. The sound of his lips smacking together lingered in your ears, like he not only had total control of you, but of all the soundwaves in the air.

“Look, I thought I was doing you a favor, giving you the heads up and all...I definitely didn’t have to. So if you wanna be an ungrateful little bitch about it, fine,” he stepped back, sitting down in the booth again and casually propping his feet up on the seat opposite. “don’t call him. I don’t fucking care.”

With a path to the door finally freed, you began to calculate your next move in your head, but Tom seemed to have violated your thoughts, too.

“Nuh-uh,” he tsked, looking off to the door and giving a nod as minion #2 locked it into place and stood with his arms crossed in front of it like the world’s least intimidating bouncer. “You really think we’d come all this way to tell you we’re about to kill daddy and then just let you, what, leave? Run home to his rescue?” he scoffed at the mere thought, and his worker bees in black laughed along with him. Tom gave you an infinitely objectifying once-over. “Like you’d make it that far in those heels.”

“I’d like to see them off,” one of his men said, prompting Tom to violently curse at him.

“Don’t you fucking dare talk about her like that, Harry. She’s not yours.” He was acting like some protective owner of you, which only made you angrier as you felt a dull electricity appear in your stomach.

The alcohol already in your system mixed with the adrenaline coursing through your veins made you feel fiery, out of control, erratic. You weren’t sure if you wanted to lunge at him or cry, the sting of worry pinpricking your eyelids as Tom’s smirk stayed put.

“What do you want?” you resigned, looking down and away from him, leaning against the wall behind you for support. You didn’t want to cave, but you couldn’t help it- you were paralyzed, fight or flight response warring with itself.

Tom shrugged, remaining nonchalant. “Just bragging rights, really,” he picked up an arm and ran his fingers through his tousled hair, his oversized platinum watch catching the light as he did it.

You were able to regain some composure as you responded, remembering who you were, knowing that your family could hold its own. You took a few paces forward in an attempt reclaim your pride. “Slim chance. You’d never be able kill him anyway, you pathetic excuse of a television criminal,” you spat out, seeing Tom’s expression falter just enough to spur you on. “You’re not the only one who knows things, y’know, I’ve learned all about you, too. All bark and no bite. A puppy who acts tough until he gets a paper cut and cowers under the bed.” you could feel your confidence refueling your words, and narrowed your eyes. “Maybe you were intimidating as a kid, but you don’t fucking scare me now, Holland.”

Upon the callout, Tom bolted up from his seat, swiftly pulling a handheld gun out of his belt and backing you up against the wall, barrel aimed at the perfect angle to blaze a clean hole through your head. “You little-”

Thankfully, you had friends on this side of town, and Roxy always had your back.

She tore out of the back with an assault rifle twice the size of her, firing a round of warning shots into the rickety ceiling. It shook Tom’s focus enough for you to make a break for it, running and ducking behind the safety of the bar.

“You better get to leaving before I have to mop you greasy motherfuckers off my floor,” Roxy said in her thick cockney accent, looking as intimidating as you’d ever seen her. Tom sniggered and stayed put.

“You think I’m joking?” she said, aiming at the wooden boards and landing a shot barely an inch from one of his friends’ feet. 

“Jesus-!” they yelped, forcing you to stifle a laugh as you watched the scene unfold.

Three very oversized men walked out from the back of the room with their own weapons of choice to back Roxy up. Seeing they’d been outnumbered, Tom retracted his gun and looked warily at his friends, grouping up to leave the bar. He saw you backed in the corner and took an extra moment to let that cocky sneer find its way back to his face, making sure to remind you why you ran in the first place.

The group walked out unscathed, leaving behind a deafening silence until Roxy looked back at you and shook you from your trance.

“Go home, babes, and make sure your family is okay.”

As you ran outside against your better judgement, eyes locked on your car parked in the alley, an abraisive pair of hands grabbed you from behind and pushed you up against the side of the building. You recognized the sickly sweet smell of cherries and knew Tom wasn’t finished with you.

He had his arm up over your head and the other on your shoulder, evidently taking in all of your features for the first time in years.

“Time did you well, didn’t it? My god, can’t believe my little kid wife grew up to be so pretty,” his eyes sparkled with a twisted, deep desire. “We’d look good together in different circumstances, hm?” His words prompted you to spit in his face.

“In your fucking dreams.”

“Ooh, a feisty little thing. I’d watch that temper of yours, y/n, you’ll make a lot of enemies talking like that,” he said in a low voice, collecting your spit from his cheek and sucking it off of his finger.

“We’re friends forever, darling. I’ll find my way back to you.” he winked at you and sauntered away into the dark. “Say hi to daddy for me.”

Your foot on the gas pedal made an indentation on the floor of the car as you sped home, tears almost blinding you from the road, making every streetlight overhead look like an abstract explosion of color. You left the ignition on as you careened into the gated entrance of your house, kicking your blue heels into the grass and sprinting inside, yelling. “Dad? Mum? Hello???”

You almost ran head first into your parents as they rushed out of the den after hearing your exasperated calls.

“y/n? What the bloody hell is going on?” your mother saw you standing shell-shocked, taking in the fact that they weren’t chopped into pieces, and pulled you into a hug as you broke out into uncontrollable sobs.

“T-they locked me in and told me they were- that you’d be dead when I got home-” you choked out in between tears, unable to calm your breathing. 

Your dad gripped his tumbler of scotch with so much sudden anger that it shattered into his hand. You could see fire in his eyes. “Who? Who told you that?”

You looked up at him and said exactly what he was expecting. “The Hollands. Tom. He- he came into Roxy’s.”

“I’m going to hang that chav from his wimpy little fucking-”

“Hon, please.” your mom said sternly while motioning to you in your sorry state, making your dad’s face a little less violently red. He took a deep, ragged breath.

“Hey, sweet pea, look,” he said, tucking away a strand of hair that had fallen in your face and was clinging to your tear-streaked cheeks. “We’re okay, alright? Tonight is an ordinary night, and our security detail is the best in the city. You stop worrying and go get yourself cleaned up, mum and I have something special we want to give you.” He smiled only to steam off and slam the door to his office, most likely to make a call to get someone, anyone, that may have had a hand in tonight’s events drawn and quartered by dawn.

You came downstairs after a long, boiling hot shower that only made you seethe more at the fact that Tom had been bluffing the whole time. It had clearly just been a fear tactic, probably done for no other reason than to fuck with you on your birthday and ruin your night. He loved crafting little games like that, this being the first time he’d come to play in person—and what made you angriest is that it had worked.

“Honey, we have a gift for you,” your mom said, handing you a silver box that was much heavier than it looked. She and your dad sat on the big sofa in the den, looking at you expectantly.

“Well, open it!” she smiled.

You undid the box, hands still shaking from earlier, and found a shiny, pitch black glock with a silver inscription in its body reading “sweet pea”, the nickname your dad had given you forever ago.

“Uh, wow, I don't know what to say...” you trailed off, picking it up and turning it over in your hand. It became surprisingly weightless, feeling like it was made to fit in your palm.

“It was mine, back in the day,” your dad spoke, seeming wistful. “Had it rebuilt and shined up for my baby girl.”

“Thank you, daddy, I love it,” you said, leaning over to hug your parents. You smiled blankly as they talked to you about the gift and how special it was, nodding at their comments...but you weren’t really listening.

All you could think about was a pair of flushed lips inches from your own, an intoxicating smell lingering in your brain; and just how amazing this gun would feel in your hand right after it had burned a bullet-sized cavity into Tom Holland’s chest.