#and I slowly watched the opinions turn into ‘they’re a good family. he loves his wife so much and he would do anything for his son’

[litt1e-prince]

saw a post about how DBK and PIF are bad parents and if I had less self control I’d make a whole post explaining why they are good parents cause you see-

[too-much-tma-stuff]

Neither Gone Nor Forgotten

sequel to No Body to Bury. This isn’t edited, if you find any errors feel free to let me nice, just be nice about it.

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Planning a funeral for Danny turned out both easier, and harder, then Batman had anticipated. Easier because he wasn’t deep in grief the way he had been when planning previous funerals, and harder because, well, the person the funeral was for was still around to have opinions. Not that Danny was hard to please, he seemed happy with just about everything, but he was struggling with whether he should tell his human family and friends. He really wanted to, but he was scared.

“I don’t think they’ll understand,” Danny said, his legs dangling over the edge of the tall building he and Batman were currently sitting on, holding a milkshake Bruce had bought for him. “Sam, Tucker, and Jazz all supported me while I was still only half dead and knew. I haven’t kept entirely out of the news since starting to work with you guys and I know they’re upset I abandoned them, I’ve seen it when I check on them. There’s no way they can understand how much changes when you die, I watch over them, but Ic an never go back.

“I can’t be what they want me to be, I’m not really Danny anymore at all, and they’d want me to be what I was. They’d want me to be human, and I’m just not anymore. I would want them to think I was completely dead and gone, but they’ve seen me in the news so there’s no chance of that.”

“Hm,” Batman said helpfully. “Write them a letter, I’ll make sure it’s delivered and then they can come on your terms, or not,” He suggested, he’d found writing letters to be a lot easier. “Like a will?”

Danny cocked his head to the side as he thought about that and then nodded slowly. “That’s a good idea, thanks Batman. You’re not nearly as bad at emotions as everyone says,” The young ghost said, bumping his shoulder against Bruce’s. It made the older hero smile. He wasn’t surprised to find that Phantom was gone when he turned back towards where the boy was sitting, his small smile remained as he threw out the abandoned milkshake and went on with his patrol.

It was two days later when the letter appeared on his desk, not yet folded or in an envelope which Bruce knew was permission to read it. He appreciated that because he would have had a hard time resisting the curiosity even if it was already sealed.

Dear Sam, Jazz, and Tucker

First of all, I want to say I’m sorry. I loved you all and I didn’t run away, I didn’t want to leave you. It was the GIW, remember when I said I was a ‘who’s who of who can’t catch ghosts’? I guess I underestimated at least one of them because they finally got me. Of course it was Phantom they were trying to kill, but is anyone surprised that they failed? It was Danny who they ended up killing, and now I can’t go back.

I didn’t realize what a big difference there would be between being half dead and all dead, a little humanity goes a long way I guess. Don’t worry I’m not going to become Dan, but I can’t be Danny anymore either, just Phantom left now and while I still love you and watch over you as I am, it’s not like I can just ‘live my life’ anymore. It hurts too much to try and pretend to be alive now, and ghosts are creatures of instinct, I can’t go against the natural order of life and death and come back to you, no matter how much I love you or how much you miss me.

Batman and some of the other heroes have offered to arrange a funeral for Danny, this time there’s actually a corpse to bury after all. I won’t be there, but it’s important for both the living and the dead that the dead have a grave, a place to grieve lost life. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, if it’s too hard or you’re too mad at me still. But if you do come or ever visit I’ll feel you there and it’ll make me happy, and maybe it’ll be some closure for you? I never meant to hurt you.

I’ll still be around to protect you, I’ll protect everyone I can. That’s been my obsession since the start hasn’t it? And Jazz don’t you start, ghost’s obsessions are what keeps us here and in one piece, I don’t need therapy. And I guess that’s the heart of it isn’t it? I’m not human anymore, and I can’t pretend to be, and we wouldn’t understand each other anymore. Not really. Ghosts don’t change much though so I’ll always love you and when you die maybe we can be friends again, if you can forgive me for this.

Forever young and yours,

Phantom

 Batman read the letter and sat quietly with it for a few long minutes, thinking about it and also questioning some parts, like who Dan was. It was sad of course, but it was sweet too, and he didn’t think that Phantom’s friends would be nearly as upset with him as he thought they would be. Finally he sighed and folded it up, finding a envelope and address it to Danny’s sister since she seemed like the best one to make sure they were all there when it was opened and read. He put it in the folder to be sent out and then leaned against his desk.

“Are you really not going to come?” He asked the empty room, and after waiting for a moment wasn’t surprised when Danny stepped out from nowhere. He’d started to get a sense of when Phantom was there, untouchable and unseen.

“No, I’ll be there, but only the way spirits usually are. I won’t be there physically, just in spirit,” He said, smiling at his own pun. Batman chuckled a little and nodded.

“I understand why you don’t want them to know that, I won’t let on,” He assured. “I think you’ve done the right thing letting them know.”

Danny nodded and then vanished again, this time out through the window, properly leaving the office and Batman alone again.

Batman had the discussion with the rest of the Justice League without Phantom present so they could avoid accidental offense. Not everyone would come, not everyone could come, Batman banned a few of the more literal heroes who would not understand why they were having a funeral when Phantom was still here, even though he had actually died. But a decent amount did come, and Batman had a feeling that the ones Phantom would care about most was Bruce himself, and Diana, who was coming.

-----

When the day of the funeral came Batman and Diana stood outside the little chapel to welcome people. They weren’t technically family of course, apparently Diana was distantly through an ancestor of hers and adoption, and Bruce thought of himself as a paternal figure to Danny, besides they’d been here early setting everything up. The nice coffin was already at the front of the room, closed since it was empty with while lilies placed on top and decorating the little building along with some roses and candles.

He wasn’t particularly surprised when the first person who showed up was Danny’s big sister Jasmine Fenton driving Danny’s two friends. His parents weren’t there but Phantom had mentioned it might not be a good idea for them to come because they would probably be disruptive. Both Jazz and Tucker’s eyes were rimmed red like they’d been crying and Sam’s jaw had a stubborn set to it like clenching it was the only thing keeping her lips from trembling.

They reached the steps, Batman nodded to them and Diana gave them a sad smile. Jazz looked through the open doors, her breath hitching. “Is he in there?” She asked, pointing to the coffin.

Batman shook his head, voice soft and rough as he responded. “Phantom said he’d bring the body later, Less chance for something to go wrong and… I don’t know if it would hurt him, but I think it’s easy to see why he’d be protective of it.”

Jazz’s lip trembled and she took a deep breath, behind her Sam had wrapped an arm around Tucker who had started to cry again, turning to hide against her shoulder. “When you see him again tell him we’re not mad at him, please?” Sam said, her voice hard with repressed emotions, it almost sounded angry but there was a subtle difference.

“He’s right that we can’t understand everything,” Jazz said, biting her lip for a moment before continuing. “But after something like this he needs space, and we won’t rush him. If he needs to start a new life, we get it, everything must remind him of trauma right now, but if he ever wants to get back in touch with us. Well, I’ll love him forever too. But also tell him that he should have been more careful in that letter he wrote if any of us had been feeling suicidal his comment about being friends again after death might have been the last push we needed over the metaphorical edge-”

She was taking a deep breath to continue her lecture when Sam wrapped her other arm around Jazz’ shoulder and pulled her away. “Well we’re not, it’s fine, let’s go sit down before Tucker collapses from dehydration from all these tears.”

“I’m not going to collapse! I’m not even crying that much!” Tucker insisted, his voice audibly wet.

Batman and Diane kept their faces straight while Sam dragged them all into the little building and to seats in the front row. Then Batman’s lips twitched up in a slight smile and Diana gave a weak laugh. “I knew they wouldn’t be as angry with Phantom as he feared,” Batman said, trying to keep his amusement under control.

“What a precocious girl, a big sister through and through,” Diana agreed and sniffled a little, it seemed their grief had gotten to her a little. He understood.

Slowly more people filtered in, just other heroes now, and one young woman called Val. Sam said to let her in even though there was clearly tension there, the heroes didn’t ask.

The scheduled time of the funeral Diana and Batman went inside, closing the door after them and, since Danny hadn’t wanted a priest so Batman started to make his way to the front to start things off.

“We’re here today in remembrance of Danny Phantom, a brave young man lost to soon in the line of duty. He never should have had to join the fight so young,” Batman stumbled a little when he saw Jason slip in at the back of the chapel. He had sort of though Jason wasn’t coming, but there he was, dressed in his Red Hood get up, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Batman could tell that he was on edge, but he was here, and it would make Danny happy. He took a deep breath and carried on with his planned remarks.

When he was done he stepped down off the little podium and Jazz stepped up, pulling some queue cards out of her pocket, taking a deep breath and launching into a planned speech. She was a good public speaker, she managed to keep it together through her speech but her words were clearly very heartfelt.

It went well, a few more people spoke, by the end Batman was actually having a hard time keeping his feeling under control, he maybe should have came as Bruce Wayne so he could have cried. He kept it under control though and eventually it was time to bring the coffin out to the prepared grave. They hadn’t fully planned who would carry it because they hadn’t known if Danny’s friends and sister were going to come, but now that they were here of course they were invited to help carry the coffin.

Batman and Diana took the majority of the weight of course, but all three of them took the offer to help carry the coffin the prepared grave. They lowered it in and Superman placed the specially made vault over top that would protect Danny’s body from, well, the usual stuff super heroes had to deal with, bodies being stolen for experimentation, attempted cloning’s, resurrection but wrong, all that jazz.

Jasmin through in the first handful of dirt, then Sam, then Tucker and then the heroes joined in. When the grave started to be filled properly a lot of the heroes started to wander away, Batman approached Jason who was hanging back.

“Please stay,” He murmured to his estranged son, seeing Jason’s shoulders tense, his arms were still crossed defensively. “Phantom will be bringing his body one most of the people clear out and he’d really like to meet you. If you don’t mind, he just died, and it’s been hard on him, I think meeting you would be a comfort.” He watched with bated breath as Jason’s fingers twitched and tightened on his own arms before he nodded. Bruce breathed a subtle sigh of relief and nodded, turning back towards the grave.

Once the grave was filled and basically everyone else had either left or gone back to the little chapel to socialize, Danny finally arrived. He faded into view, seemingly almost shy, watching them both closely for their reaction. Bruce understood why, he had to carefully school his expression when he saw the state that Danny’s body was in. It wasn’t that he was dead obviously, ashen and limp, passed the stage of rigger it seemed, it was the visible injuries. He was littered with cuts and bruises, there were stull cuffs around his ankles and wrists which had clearly burned into his skin. The wound that had killed him was, well, it looked like an autopsy had been done, his chest was fully open, but Batman knew it had been done while he was still alive. It was horrific.

Batman managed to keep himself under control though his breathing sped up, Hood’s mask completely hid his face but he rocked back like he’d been struck. Danny hesitated, licked his lips a little and stepped forward.

“I can’t touch the cuffs, but I don’t want too bury him with them still on. Will you take them off for me? They shouldn’t burn you,” Danny asked Bruce.

He was about to say yes when Jason cut in, “I’m better at picking locks then him, I’ll do it.” He practically growled, stalking forward and pulling his lock picking kit out of one of the pockets on his suit. “Who did this to him,- You?” He asked softly as Danny knelt, cradling his own corps close to his chest, letting Jason kneel in front of him and take one of the limp arms to start on the cuffs. Jason hissed when he touched it, it burned a little but he breathed through it and started to pick the lock.

“It was the GIW, the ghost investigation ward. I killed the ones who did it, and the justice league helped me disband the rest of the organization and overturn the laws that enabled it,” Danny responded, his green eyes locked unblinkingly on Jason, watching him as he watched Jason work on the locks.

“Good, I’m glad their dead. That must have felt good,” He chuckled vindictively.

“I am too, but I’m more glad they won’t get to hurt anyone else. They might have gone for you if they were still able.”

“Me? Why?” Jason asked, his fingers twitching, he cursed softly when the lock pick slipped, he grumbled and started again.

“Because you died before didn’t you? The cuffs burn you because you’re not… completely alive anymore I won’t ask anything about it, I know that’s private but if you ever want to talk about it, or if you need help with the… side affects, I’d be happy to help you,” Phantom offered softly. Jason only hummed in response, he needed to process and consider that.

When the final cuff fell to the ground Danny took a deep breath and curled around himself, resting his forehead against his body’s hair. From the way his shoulders were shaking they could tell he was crying, Jason rested a hand on Danny’s shoulder, just being there for him until Phantom was ready and finally sunk into the ground. He was down there for a long time before he surfaced again, flying over to hug batman, burrowing against his chest a little while Batman patted his back gently, Jason standing by awkwardly.

“Thank you so much for doing this, and thank you both so much for coming. This really means so much to me.”

“Of course kid,” Jason said, reaching out to ruffle the boy’s soft white hair.

Batman nodded, giving Danny a gentle squeeze, “No one deserves to be forgotten.”

Tag list: @kikkobara @phlebocuffs @spikethecrazycat @spookytragedyshark @thatonegaybitch68 @stargazer-luna @fangirlnerd001 @seraphinedemort @yjfk @rosieparker1856 @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun and thank you too @your-local-idiot-savant for giving me feedback on some parts

[bagopucks]

Q. Hughes - Softly, Sweetly

✄————————————

Quinn Hughes x Fem!reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.8k

Warning(s): Just some making out, proofread once <3

—————————————

“And you’re sure they’re not coming home?” I asked softly, slowly stepping out of the car Quinn had picked me up in. The car that his parents didn’t use to take Luke and Jack out.

Quinn and I didn’t have plans to hang out. We’d skipped out on making plans specifically because he was going to go to Jack’s hockey game with his family. I knew things had changed when he texted me two hours after school saying, ‘I’ll pick you up for a movie?’

I knew what that meant. Quinn was a homebody. It meant we were going to lay on the couch, curled up under a million blankets, and watch a cheesy Christmas movie. I was all in.

“Hockey games take like.. three hours with all the breaks and stopping. We have a lot of time.” Quinn assured me, and I knew we had even more time considering the rink Jack was playing at, was an hour away. He rushed over to my place to get me the second he knew his parents hadn’t turned around to come back after forgetting something.

Quinn grabbed his house keys and unlocked the front door, letting me step inside first and shed the winter coat I’d been wearing. I hung it on the coat rack next to the door. When I looked back at Quinn, he was smiling at me. The simple sight of his lips turned upward made me blush. Especially when I knew it was something I did to make him so happy.

“You walk around here like you own the place,” Quinn teased, pushing the door shut and wrapping his arms around my torso to hug me.

“I’m sorry?” I wasn’t sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing.

“No.. no I love it. I want you to walk around our house like this some day.” His words caught me off guard, but it wasn’t the first time Quinn had mentioned something of the sort. I did at times too.

Being seniors in high school, we both had individual paths we wanted to take. One thing we knew for sure though, was that we wanted to stay together. But Quinn and I were practical people. We were both afraid it might not work out like that. So we counted our blessings while we had them, and decided to cherish the time knew we had together.

“What’s on the agenda tonight, Quintin?” I asked softly, sighing as the dark haired boy pulled away from me. He began to step out of the entryway before I grabbed his wrist. “Shoes.”

My simple reminder had Quinn quickly kicking his wet shoes off before I released his hand and let him go. I kneeled over to untie and take off my own shoes. I set them aside before stepping further into the house.

“I thought.. maybe a blanket fort?” Quinn’s voice grew distant as he wandered down the hall. I heard a door open, then a quiet grunt.

“I’ve been told I’m a professional at those!” I responded loud enough for him to hear, my eyes lit up when Quinn returned with a large folded comforter.

“Really? That’s good..” a nervous laugh fell from his lips. “Jack says I suck at them.” His words made me laugh quietly. Jack always criticized his brothers. Ever the loud and opinionated middle child. “Come help me get the rest of the blankets off my bed.”

It was clear Quinn thought nothing of the offer, but I’d never been in his room before. It was a rule: no girls in the bedrooms. It made me wonder if Quinn simply forgot, or chose to ignore it since we were alone.

I followed behind him, hesitant but excited as I stepped through the door of his room. It was painted a deep blue, decorated with hockey items and knickknacks. I allowed myself time to look everything over before my eyes landed on Quinn. Just in time to see him tossing blankets at me.

“Quinn Hughes!” I chastised through another laugh. I did my best to hold what I could, while Quinn gathered the rest and led me back out of his room.

I almost fell down the steps on the way back to the living room. I didn’t find it funny, but Quinn certainly did.

Once we got to the living area, we dropped our blankets on the floor and stood side by side. Ready to put our heads together and construct the best blanket fort known to man kind.

I’d give Jack credit where credit is due… Quinn really did suck at blanket forts.

I’d get something draped or situated, and a moment later I’d see the blanket completely fall. Only to look up at the guilty culprit.

“Q.. I love you.. I really do,” I began at one point, staring him down. He immediately pulled his hands away from the light blue sheet he was trying to situate over one of the barstools he’d brought up from the basement.

“You’ve gotta stop messing shit up. We’ll never get to the movie.”

After that, Quinn didn’t touch anything unless I told him to. Once I had things somewhat situated, I allowed him to set up the inside. That, he was much better at. When I finished the outer shell, I knelt down in front of the opening and spotted him setting up a few pillows. Blankets covered the floor too, and the throw pillows from the couch were placed around for extra padding on the sides.

Quinn seemed in his own world, so I let him do his thing, watching. He paused at one point, examining his work, biting his lip, before he went in to fluff one of the pillows. When he turned to call me, he practically jumped out of his skin.

“Dude!”

Ah yes, so affectionate.

“It looks good in here.” I sat on my knees, still outside of the fort. We were missing a few things. I didn’t want to get comfy yet.

“Thanks.” Quinn flashed me a brief smile before slipping out from beneath the fort. I stood with him. “Do you want to grab snacks? And I’ll grab the iPad?”

It sounded like a good compromise to me. I nodded.

“Maybe two bottles of water too!” I heard Quinn call as we went our separate was.

We joined up again outside of the fort, my arms full of various chip bags and a box of goldfish. Quinn’s only held his iPad. He helped by taking a few of the snacks from my hands.

Quinn directed me to the side of the fort where the pillow he previously fluffed was. I was the first to get comfortable and lay out snacks, while he had gone to turn off the lights in the living room. When Quinn came back, I was already scrolling through his iPad for movies to watch. He was quick to take up the empty space next to me, leaning on his elbow to see the screen so he could help.

“What are we in the mood for?” I asked quietly, eyeing the comedy section of the streaming service.

“What about The Mighty Ducks?” A different request than usual, but I could cope with that. It was a good movie.

“You got it, Quinny.” I moved one of my hands from the iPad, and subconsciously reached to rest my hand on the back of his head. I carded my fingers gently through his hair.

After I found the movie, Quinn and I got the iPad set up between us. We both laid on our sides, arms tucked beneath our heads for better elevation.

For the good first half of the film, we were pretty occupied. But after a while, I started to notice Quinn stealing occasional glances at me.

I tried to play oblivious. Part of me was really enjoying the movie. But it was impossible to ignore Quinn when he hoisted himself up on all fours and climbed over both the iPad and my body.

“Quinn.” I mumbled, turning my head to watch him settle on his side behind me, wrapping an arm around me. “What are you doing?”

“Wasn’t comfortable.” It was the only response he would offer before his gaze had fallen on the iPad again. My eyes followed shortly after.

Silence fell upon us again. I had to admit I enjoyed being in his arms like this a lot more than across from him.

Quinn’s head eventually dropped to the pillow beside mine. I assumed he’d gotten uncomfortable holding it up, but those assumptions were proven wrong when I felt his warm lips press against the nape of my neck. My heart fluttered.

“Quinn. The movie,” I whispered. I reached back to gently push his head away. I wouldn’t have minded a little fun, but I had to give him some trouble first.

“Come on,” he mumbled, moving his hand to my hip. “We’ve seen it a million times.” His words caused me to chuckle.

I finally rolled over. “Yeah.. I wonder why.” I was quick to shoot back. Quinn deadpanned, then rolled his eyes.

“You’re so mean sometimes.” This time it was my turn to roll my eyes. I leaned forward and pressed my lips to his own, then ended our chaste kiss with a sigh. Quinn didn’t look particularly satisfied. He was in one of those moods.

It wasn’t long before he reconnected our lips, his hand gently rested against my cheek. There’s something so exciting and yet so intimate about kissing Quinn when I wasn’t even supposed to be around him. We were alone together and nobody knew. It’s like we were finally adults in some form or another.

I shifted my body closer to his, our legs tangling together. My hand found the hem of Quinn’s shirt, and slipped beneath it. I giggled into the kiss at the sound of his quiet gasp. My hands must have still been cold.

“You could have warned me,” Quinn whispered quietly as he parted our lips. At first I wasn’t certain what he was talking about.

“My hands?” I smirked and slowly slid them up his chest beneath his shirt. A shiver befell Quinn. “Too cold for Mr. ice hockey?” My taunting earned a sarcastic, ‘ha-ha’ from him.

“I’d ask to take your shirt off, but wouldn’t want you to freeze to death.” Quinn’s eyes never left me. His brow rose as if to ask if I was serious. I gave him a ‘duh’ look in response.

“Have at it.” His words made me snicker. I was careful when I sat up, and tossed one of my legs over his side to straddle him and rest on his hips.

Quinn’s hands found my thighs. He rested them there and smiled up at me as I removed my own hands from beneath his shirt. I leaned forward to reconnect our lips in a much deeper kiss than before. There was a nip at my lip, and I had responded appropriately with one to his own. Still screwing with Quinn even though he was trying to have an intimate moment.

“C’mon,” I parted our lips to whisper. I pushed Quinn’s hands away from my hips, and slipped my own back beneath his shirt to pull it off over his head. A few strands of his beautiful dark hair had been pulled out of place. I tossed his shirt aside, covering the iPad and dimming the only light we had. I could just barely see Quinn, but he looked excited anyway.

My hands ran the expanse of his chest, down to his stomach, up his sides. Quinn’s eyes had fallen at some point to watch my hands. Even as they had travelled up to his shoulders and down his arms, eventually stopping to grab his hands and place them back on my hips. But he had other plans when they slipped to grip my ass.

“You’re the most magnificent person I have ever met.” My words came out as whispers. I leaned forward and reconnected our lips, Quinn‘s hands squeezed in response. It only took a moment before his tongue dragged across my bottom lip, and who was I to deny him access?

I parted my lips for him as one of Quinn’s hands had moved and slipped beneath my shirt to hold onto my hip. He hummed. From what I assumed was pleasure. I carefully dragged my hips against his own, and earned a groan in response. Quinn’s hands ventured further up beneath my shirt, slipping behind my back in hopes of finding my bra clip. His hands halted in their tracks when his phone began to ring. That distinct tone he had set for one person in particular. We stared each other down before I shook my head.

“Answer it.” I knew it was his mom.

He lazily reached for his phone, mumbling something about his mother before answering the call and placing it on speaker.

“Hey, sweetie. I just wanted to let you know we might be back a little later. Traffic was bad on the drive up here. Your father thinks it’ll be worse on the way back.” Ellen’s voice made me smile. The woman was always so kind and personable.

“It’s alright, mom. I think I can keep myself entertained.” I had to cover my mouth to conceal my giggles at his words.

“I know. I know. I just worry leaving you home alone sometimes.” I gently hooked a finger in the waistband of Quinn’s shorts. A surprised gasp left his lips.

“Quinn?”

“I’m okay mom.. sorry- I was just.. I’m okay.” Quinn tried to push my hand away as he spoke, but I gave him a hard time nonetheless, wiggling my hips. His eyes closed tightly, and he drew his bottom lip between his teeth to silence the noise that threatened to escape.

“Sweetie, you promise you’re okay?” Ellen’s concern was endearing, but something neither of us wanted at the moment.

“I’m fine.” His voice was strained, and silence followed his words. Then the screen lit up and Quinn and I both looked down at his phone. Ellen was trying to FaceTime him.

“Holy shit-“ I mumbled out as I climbed off his lap, scrambling to get out of the blanket fort while he grabbed his phone and answered the call.

“Quinn.” His mother sounded suspicious. “Did you hurt yourself? Is everything okay?” Quinn sat up as his mother spoke.

“I’m okay mom. I promise! I just had- it’s nothing.” He adjusted his shorts, glancing up at me before looking back at the phone. I tried to remain as still and quiet as possible.

“Honey..” Ellen sighed, “I swear to god if you have your girlfriend over..” She sounded concerned.

“Mom!” Quinn combated her tone with offense in his own. “You know that’s not me. That’s all Jack.”

My brow rose in a silent, ‘seriously?’ This might have been the first time Quinn had me over without permission, but it certainly wasn’t the first time we’d been together without somebody knowing. Silence followed. Ellen seemed to be deciding whether or not she believed him. Then she sighed.

“Alright.. alright.. I’m sorry honey. I just- after that last incident.. can’t blame me for being a little nervous.” I had to cover my mouth once again not to laugh.

The ‘last’ incident was more like a horror story. Jack had been in trouble for weeks over the whole situation. His mother still got tense about leaving him home alone because of it.

“It’s okay mom. We’re fine.” Quinn spoke, too carefree after assuming he was in the clear.

“We?”

I was sure both of our hearts dropped to our stomachs at the same time.

“You idiot!” I mouthed.

“Quintin.” Ellen spoke sternly. She didn’t have to snap or yell at him to get him to give in. She knew that.

Quinn hung up. My eyes went as wide as they could have possibly gone.

“Quinn! Did you just hang up on her?” I had never seen Ellen when she was furious, nor did I want to.

“I hung up on her.” Quinn confirmed before his phone lit up again.

“You hung up on your mother!” I scolded, and the realization of his actions finally dawned on him.

“Do I answer her again?” Quinn questioned frantically. I gave him a ‘duh’ face before placing my hands on my hips. I would have hated to see Quinn in trouble, but at the same time, it was his mother.. and I didn’t know what else to do aside from encouraging him to turn himself in.

Quinn looked down at his phone and answered the call once again.

It wasn’t on speakerphone.

I still heard Ellen yell his full name at the top of her lungs.

Quinn and I both crossed ourselves when we heard the sound of his mother’s voice.

I knew one thing… I wanted to be home with every door and window locked before Ellen got back to her son. Lest her wrath fall upon me as well.

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[vodika-vibes]

Hi! This is my first ever request and I’m so excited 🤩 Could you please do Ambrosia and Coriander with Wrecker?

I love the character trope “A falls first, B falls harder”, so maybe fem!reader A and Wrecker B?

Fireworks

Summary: You make fireworks for a living, just like your parents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. You love the colors and the explosions. And when you meet Wrecker, who loves many of the same things that you do, you hit it off. You fall first...but, as it happens, he falls harder.

Pairing: TBB Wrecker x F!Reader

Word Count: 2377

Warnings: Heated making out

Prompts: Ambrosia - love is reciprocated, Coriander - lust

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni

A/N: SO! This is my first time writing Wrecker, and I'm not sure how I did. So please if anyone has an opinion on it, please let me know.

You smile warmly up at Wrecker, “I appreciate you going out of your way to help with this,” You say lightly as Wrecker sets the crate on the floor.

“It’s not a problem, I was there and happy to help.” His grin is wide, “Besides, I’m kind of curious as to how you do this.” Wrecker adds as he gestures around you. “I’m sure Tech could walk me through it, but it’s not quite the same as seeing it for myself.”

“You’re exactly right! Tech is very clever, and I’m sure he could give you the bare bones details, but a lot of this is passed down through oral tradition.” You place your hands on your hips, a proud grin lifting your lips, “And, my family has been making fireworks since before space travel, so I’m something of an expert.”

“What a coincidence, so am I.” Wrecker teases, “Are you sure you want this crate here?”

“True! Explosives are explosives, whether they’re for show or for destruction.” You fold your arms, “And yeah, I have to dig through it to sort it properly anyway, so better to leave it here.”

Wrecker looks around a little more, “You guys seem busy.”

“Well, the fireworks festival is happening soon.” You point out, “But really, this is nothing. You should see us in the week leading up to the festival.” You grin at him, before you crouch to enter the code to unlock the crate, “Of course, the payoff is definitely worth it, in the end.”

Wrecker opens his mouth to say something when a shout from the second floor distracts you both. Your older brother and your father are screaming at each other, and you sigh. “I should go deal with that.” You stand, “Thanks for the help, Wrecker, I mean it.”

“Sure.” He eyes the screaming men, “You want me to stick around-?”

You laugh, warm and bright, “My brother and my father are both just too stubborn for their own good, but there’s no danger here. I promise.”

Wrecker eyes the screaming men for a moment longer, and then turns his gaze back to you, a grin crossing his face, “Well, if you’re sure.”

“I am. Thank you though, you’re sweet.”

“Ah, well…” His face heats slightly, “I try.”

A giggle falls from your lips, he really is too cute, “I’ll see you later, alright?”

“Yeah, definitely.” Wrecker watches you for a moment longer, as you hurry up the stairs to defuse your brother and father’s fight, and then he leaves out the way he came in. 

It’s been almost a year since Wrecker and his brothers settled on Pabu with their younger sister, and they’ve since made a home for themselves here. 

You met Wrecker about eight months ago.

It had been an accident, you hadn’t been paying attention, and he hadn’t been paying attention and the pair of you crashed into each other. You weren’t hurt, but he did manage to knock you to the ground, simply because of how much bigger than you he is.

At the time he had been so apologetic and worried about hurting you, that he spent a whole ten minutes apologizing to you. It took you another fifteen minutes to reassure him that he didn’t hurt you, and that the scrapes and bruises that you were covered in happened before he ran into you. 

After that, you seemed to bump into him everywhere, though you never actually ran into him again. 

Slowly, over time, you and Wrecker developed a close friendship. You’ve come to cherish him as a close friend, and are more than happy to spend your free time with him. 

Well, okay, that’s not exactly true.

You do consider him a dear friend, but you also want more. You’ve long since fallen in love with him, but you’re hesitant to ask for more than friendship. After all, if he doesn’t feel the same, then you’ll have just ruined the best friendship of your life.

So you keep your mouth shut, and you enjoy the time you spend together, and you appreciate Wrecker’s kindness and warmth, and you silently pine over him, while hoping that he doesn’t notice.

The last thing you want is to lose your best friend, after all.

You rub the back of your neck as you hurry up the stairs to your family. You can think about this later, there are more important things to worry about.

It has been almost 6 weeks since the day that Wrecker helped you bring a crate into the warehouse, and the Firework Festival is almost here. Almost, in the sense that it’s tonight, and you’ve been running around like a maniac for the last week trying to get things in order.

In terms of relationship, nothing has changed between you and Wrecker…at least, you don’t think anything has changed.

These last couple of weeks, Wrecker has been acting odd around you. 

Seeming a little nervous and jumpy, unwilling to meet your eyes at times, and randomly changing the subject whenever you try to press him if something is wrong.

You’re beginning to worry that you’ve done something wrong, that maybe you said or did something that bothered him and he’s just too nice to call you out.

Stars, you hope not. That’s the last thing you’ve ever wanted.

Unfortunately, you’ve been too busy the last week to have a proper conversation with him. It’s everything you can do to manage a simple hi when you see him on the street before running off to your next chore.

And even with those small conversations, there’s still something off with how Wrecker responds.

You grip your comm for a moment, staring at Wrecker’s contact information for a moment, before you grit your teeth and take a risk.

Hey Wreck, you up?

Yeah, course. What’s up?

The Fireworks are tonight, you gonna watch them?

That’s the plan. Omega wants to watch them on the beach.

Ooh, that’s a good place. 

For a moment, you hesitate, before you type your next message.

I was going to ask if you wanted to watch them with me, but since you already have plans.

I’ll just watch them with my brothers

Wait

Wait!

I’d like to watch them with you

If the offer is available?

What about Omega?

Hunter, Echo, and Tech will be with her.

She won’t even notice I’m gone.

Where are we watching them?

On top of the warehouse, I’ll bring food!

You don’t have to do that

I want to. I’ll see you tonight!!

I’ll be there.

Some of your anxiety fades when Wrecker agrees to watch the fireworks with you. If nothing else, he still wants to be your friend. And then you jump when you hear your mother shout at you from the hallway of your apartment.

Kriff, you’re going to be late!

You roll, literally, out of bed, landing on the floor with a thump, “I’m okay!” You shout to your mother before you scramble to your fresher to take the world’s quickest shower.

And then you pull on your clothes, and hurry out of your bedroom while pulling your hair into a tail, “Sorry, sorry! I overslept!” You call to your mother, who shoves a breakfast sandwich into your hands as you balance on one foot to pull your boots on.

“Hurry up, everyone is waiting for us!” Your mother rushes you.

“I know, I know! I’m coming!”

Wrecker is nervous. Nervous with a capital N, even. 

He knows that he’s a big guy, he’d have to be blind to not see that. And he knows that he’s not as careful as, say, Tech or Echo. And he knows that he’s a bit too loud and a bit too exuberant, and that he’s not everyone’s cup of Caf.

He also knows that his pretty spark has been working herself to the point of exhaustion for the last week, and that she’s not had time to do anything for herself, and even so, she still made time to say hi to him every day.

Even when she’s covered in soot, and has dark circles under her eyes, and her hair is pulled into a messy knot because it hasn’t been washed in a week, she’s still the most stunning woman he’s ever laid eyes on.

She still smiles at him like…like most women smile at Hunter, and stars, he loves her so much.

Echo figured it out before he did, because of course he did. He just flashed a small, sad, smile before teasingly telling Wrecker that when he fell for her, he hit every branch on the way down.

Wrecker figures that he’s probably right, he normally is about this kind of stuff, but it’s not actually helpful.

“Wreck,” Echo says, his voice gentle and kind, as he pulls Wrecker out of his thoughts. “You’re already friends with her, just talk to her.”

“But…what if she doesn’t feel the same?”

“Well, that’s a risk that you have to take.” Echo replies.

“Maybe I shouldn’t say anything-”

“Will that make you feel better?”

“...no.”

Echo smiles at him, “Go. I’ll cover for you with Omega.”

“Thanks Echo.”

Wrecker makes the walk from the house he shares with his siblings to the warehouse, and he uses the outside stairs to get to the roof. She’s already there, sitting in a comfy chair next to a table covered in various foods and drinks.

Her hair is loose and freshly dyed, likely to celebrate the festival, and she’s wearing a pretty dress that he’s never seen before. She looks…gorgeous. And somehow Wrecker falls even more in love with her.

Her gaze slides over to him, and a blinding smile crosses her face, “Wreck! You made it!”

“I said I would,” Wrecker replies as he steps onto the roof, “Has all of this stuff always been here?”

“Hm? Oh, I pulled them out of the shed,” She replies as she motions to a small building a little bit away, “But it wasn’t hard.”

Wrecker crosses over to her and sinks into another chair, though he hasn’t taken his gaze off of her, “I see you dyed your hair new colors.”

She laughs, “New colors for a new firework festival!”

“And a new dress?”

“Mother bought it for me. Do you like it?”

“It suits you.” Wrecker replies, finally averting his gaze to look at the food on the table, “Did you just hit up every fast food place between your apartment and here?”

“Mm, just about.” She falls silent for a moment, “Hey, Wreck?”

“Yeah?”

“Did I do something to make you mad at me?” She asks, and Wrecker’s gaze snaps to her face, she looks deeply anxious, “You’ve been acting…odd, these last couple of weeks. And I know I haven’t been a good friend, because of how busy I’ve been-”

“Woah, woah. Hold on. Did someone tell you that you’ve been a bad friend?” Wrecker asks, his brow furrowing, “Because you’ve been so busy this last week, that I was worried that you were going to collapse from exhaustion before the festival.”

“Well, no.” She admits, “but I can’t think of any other reason. You’ve been really nervous around me, and I can’t figure out what I did-”

“...you noticed that?”

“Of course I noticed, I’m not blind.” She sounds hurt and offended, “I just want to know what I did.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Wrecker hastens to reassure, “If anything, this is my problem.”

“Wreck, will you just tell me? Please?”

He exhales nervously, and rubs the back of his neck, “I…appear to have fallen in love with you. Hard. Echo says that I ‘hit every branch on the way down’.” He risks a glance at her face, and his heart sinks slightly when he sees the look of surprise, “And I just didn’t want to make you nervous. Or to lose our friendship.”

She exhales slowly, “Well, I can honestly say that I wasn’t expecting that.” There’s something strange in her voice, and Wrecker’s not quite sure what emotion it is. He’s never heard it before.

“It’s fine if you don’t feel the same way. I don’t expect it, I’m happy with our friendship-”

She blinks at him, “Wrecker, that’s the thing, I do feel the same way.”

It’s his turn to blink at her dumbly, “You…do?”

“Of course. You’re so kind and gentle and handsome…plus you love explosions as much as I do. How could I not? I’ve been crushing on you for months now.” She admits with a small smile.

Wrecker just stares at her for a long moment, “Huh.” He finally says, “I…legitimately don’t know what to say to that. I kind of expected you to tell me to kriff off.”

She laughs, “I would never. Even if I wasn’t interested for some reason.” She considers him for a moment, and then she stands and walks over to him and gingerly settles herself on his lap.

Wrecker immediately slides his arms around her, and watches her curiously. This isn’t the first time he’s touched her like this, she’s a very tactile person after all, but she’s never sat on his lap before.

She flashes a small smile up at him, and then she leans up and presses her lips against his.

The kiss is soft and gentle…and shoots white hot desire through his entire body. He tries, he really does, to keep the kiss chaste and innocent. But the more she presses her lips against his, the harder it is to control himself.

And then she presses her lips to his one more time, and Wrecker just snaps. One of his hands tangles in her hair as he cups the back of her head, while the other one firmly grips her hip and pulls her flush against him.

He’s still careful to not hurt her, but even that thought fades to the background as she releases a soft moan when he nibbles on her lower lip.

His name falls from her lips in a breathy sigh when he pulls away just long enough to catch his breath, and Wrecker can honestly say that he’s never heard anything more arousing in his life.

At least, not until ten minutes later when she moans for him.

[marvelmaniac715]

I love watching the Addams Family live action movies and I love the Chucky franchise, so what did I do? I combined them of course! This is the story of Charles Ray-Addams, a descendant of the original Addams clan, and his family - his lovely wife and twin children, along with his best friend, the reanimated corpse of Eddie Caputo. The neighbourhood in which they reside lives in fear.

————————————————————-

John Oak nervously adjusted the collar of his shirt. He was just an elementary school teacher, he wasn’t used to doing home visits. But there was a family in this neighbourhood who had two young children and refused to send them to school or register them as homeschooled, so John had been sent to enrol the two six year olds as soon as possible.

The house he was standing in front of freaked him out. It was a large, Victorian gothic style mansion, entirely black and grey, with a garden overflowing with weeds. Every second window was caked in a thick layer of dust or smashed, and, rather fittingly in John’s opinion, a murder of crows clustered in the bare trees that surrounded the house’s grounds.

He couldn’t see any people, that was, until he heard a child humming in the distance. When he narrowed his eyes and used his hand to shield his face from the sun, John could spot a small, pale girl with curly red hair partially hidden underneath a black sun hat. 

There was a man standing next to her with dark curly hair and brown eyes, assisting the girl as she carefully examined a row of flowers and used a switchblade to carefully pluck them from the grass. It wasn’t just flowers she was collecting, there was also half a dozen weeds lining her basket as the girl busied herself with her task. 

John was fairly certain that this was Glenda, the younger twin. To confirm his suspicion, John walked up to the girl, who was kneeling on the ground, and politely tapped her on the shoulder. When she glanced up at him with curious blue eyes, the man asked:

“Excuse me, are you Glenda Ray?”

The child grinned and corrected him:

“Ray-Addams, how can I help you, sir?”

John breathed a sigh of relief, but that sigh caught in his throat when he actually got a good look at the man next to Glenda. His eyes were almost pitch black, and his skin was so pale that he was almost see-through, with a visible waxy texture. There was a thin line encircling his throat, it looked almost like dry, flaking blood. Not to mention the smell emanating from him, it was almost like meeting a corpse! 

But he had no time to ask questions about this man, not when he had more pressing matters to get to. Shaking his head in disbelief, as if denial could make the man next to Glenda look more, well, normal, John asked:

“I need to speak to your parents, is this your dad?”

The girl pressed her lips into a thin line and shook her head vehemently, curls bobbing about in the wind in her passion. Then, she stood, pointed towards the man and said:

“No, that’s Uncle Eddie. My papa’s in his study, would you like me to take you to him?”

John nodded, and then, just to fill the awkward silence, gestured towards Glenda’s basket and said:

“Those are lovely flowers, are you giving them to someone?”

Glenda winced for some reason before nodding:

“Yes, they’re for my mama. It’s not my fault they’re lovely, but I can fix them.”

Then, a few moments passed as Glenda looked intently into John’s eyes, before raising her switchblade and advancing towards him slowly.

“You have interesting eyes. My doll Marie Antoinette lost an eye the last time I played with her, may I have one of yours to take its place?”

John paled immediately, and he turned to ‘Uncle Eddie’ for support, and for a moment he thought he’d found it as the man’s face grew serious, but he merely knelt down to Glenda’s height and gently admonished the girl:

“Now Glenda, what did your papa say about injuring people?”

Glenda sighed in disappointment and obediently recited:

“Don’t grievously harm someone without first asking for consent.”

John strongly considered running away, but before he could, Glenda clasped her hands behind her back, switchblade still clutched firmly in hand, smiled innocently and asked in a sugary sweet tone:

“Would it be alright if I took your eye out, sir?”

Eddie smiled and nodded encouragingly at his ‘niece’, and John began to think that he would die here. Then, sensing that there wouldn’t be an answer she liked, Glenda sighed and reached out a hand for one of John’s now shaking hands, grasping it firmly as she led him towards the house, instructing Eddie to search for worms and slugs as she clutched her basket in the other hand.

As the pair reached the door, Glenda removed the flowers from her basket and, using her switchblade, carefully cut the heads off, leaving only the stems, leaves and thorns, whilst the weeds remained fully intact. With a satisfied smile, Glenda placed the butchered plants back into her basket and knocked on the door three times. 

The door was answered by a blonde woman who was even paler than her daughter (Glenda had to be her daughter, the two looked so similar). The woman smiled politely at John and introduced herself as Tiffany, confirming that she was Glenda’s mother as she invited him inside. When she caught sight of her daughter’s basket and discovered that the plants were for her, she gasped in delight, kissing her child on the cheek as she carefully placed the weeds and stems in a vase and gushed:

“Oh darling, they’re grotesque! I love them, thank you!”

As John entered the hallway, greeted by entirely monochrome decor, he was offered a glass of lemonade by Tiffany. To avoid being a bad houseguest he accepted, and asked what ingredients were in it. As he raised the glass to his lips, Tiffany responded:

“Lemons, sugar, water, and of course a dash of deadly nightshade to give it some flavour.”

When John heard the last ingredient, his eyes widened as he spluttered and dropped the glass in a panic, thankful that he hadn’t drank any. Immediately, he dropped to his knees to begin gathering the shards of glass together before searching for a trash can, but Tiffany simply shook her head and said:

“Oh, there’s no need, my little girl loves walking on broken glass, I’ll just put the shards on a shelf in the twins’ play room.”

Deeply disturbed, John handed over the broken glass shards and watched as Tiffany went upstairs. Using the silence to her advantage, Glenda crept over to John and grabbed his hand whilst yelling ‘boo!’ She was satisfied by the man’s flinch and grinned as she steered him towards the stairs and called out:

“Papa, there’s a man here to see you!”

There was a prolonged period of silence as a faint crashing sound could be heard from upstairs. But then, a man called down:

“Alright, send him up, my little demon.”

Glenda gave John a gentle shove, adjusted her hat and blurted out:

“Second door on the left!”

Then, she ran back outside, leaving John to face her father entirely alone, with a great deal of dread. He deliberately dragged out his journey upstairs, stopping on every second step to tie his shoelaces or catch his breath. He was so slow that he passed Tiffany on her way back downstairs, and she’d been up there for a good twenty minutes tidying her children’s play room. But he couldn’t delay it forever, and John eventually found himself knocking on the open door of what looked like a study.

When he knocked, a man with wild dark curls that rivalled his daughter’s looked up from his desk with a manic grin. Then, without warning, he launched a dagger at John, who dodged at the very last minute, making a beeline for the safety of the study before wheezing:

“You tried to kill me!”

The man shrugged and insisted, still with a grin on his face:

“I was only testing your reflexes, I like a man who can dodge knives, my own father couldn’t.”

Then, almost as an afterthought, he added:

“The police never found the body.”

John shuddered, becoming increasingly more disturbed. He took a moment to look around the room, his eyes landing on a variety of unusual sculptures and paintings. Each one seemed to depict a human being in a great deal of pain, there was blood featured in every piece, and John wanted to vomit. 

Strangely, on one of the walls, there was a cork board filled with pencil drawings done entirely in black and white, also depicting suffering and creepy things, but the drawings looked more like scribbles. Noticing that John was looking at the pictures, his surprisingly jovial attacker said:

“I created most of the pieces in here, but the drawings on that cork board were made by my daughter Glenda, isn’t she talented? I’m Charles by the way, Charles Lee Ray-Addams.”

With these final words the man reached out to shake John’s hand. Before John could say the reason why he was here in order to get this visit over with as soon as possible, a red headed little boy poked his head round the door. 

Unlike the other inhabitants of this house, he wore colours other than black - a bright blue and green striped T-shirt. He wasn’t all that pale either, he had rosy pink cheeks, and a touch of sunburn that indicated that he’d been playing outside all day. He was clutching a piece of paper in his right hand, and he presented it to his father with a proud grin:

“I drew this for you, papa!”

The drawing was clearly created using crayons, and it was the brightest, most eye-catching thing in the room, comprised of blues and yellows and greens that stood out against its monochrome surroundings. It was meant to be a drawing of a barn, with a big yellow sun in the top corner, but because the drawing’s creator was only six years old, it looked more like a bunch of scribbles. 

When Charles looked at his son’s drawing, he thanked him and went to place it inside a locked drawer, before noticing the hopeful look on the young boy’s face and deciding to pin it up with Glenda’s sketches, causing Glen (because it had to be Glen) to bounce up and down with joy. When Glen had calmed down, Charles bent down and ruffled his son’s hair before gently instructing:

“It’ll be dinner soon, how about you go downstairs and get to your seat before your sister sticks pins in it again?”

Glen nodded and left the study, waving politely at John as he left. When Glen was halfway down the stairs, Charles turned to John and shook his head fondly, confessing:

“He’s not much of an Addams, but he’s still my son so I love him anyway. I suppose it’s the Ray in him, my father was an eternal optimist, the only time he stopped smiling was when he lost our little game of knife toss. Odd man, but at least I got his money when he passed away.”

John was utterly perplexed, how was this sweet young boy the black sheep of the family? He felt an urge to speak up on Glen’s behalf so he cleared his throat and insisted:

“Glen seems like a perfectly fine, healthy, normal boy. There’s nothing wrong or odd with him.”

Charles flinched as if he’d been struck, immediately replying:

“There’s no need to insult the boy, Damballa knows he’s tormented enough by his sister.”

John blinked in shock, unable to process what was even going on anymore. Instead, he decided to press on with the reason for his visit.

“Now, Mr Ray-Addams, about why I’m here-‘

“Ah, yes, why have you come to see me? Trouble with the authorities again? I have a wonderful lawyer, he’s gotten me off of death row four times now, I’ll just call him and let him know what misdemeanours I’ve committed this time, shall I?”

John shook his head and laughed nervously, now realising that he was probably talking to a murderer. 

‘Uh, no. It’s about your children, Glen and Glenda…”

He trailed off, realising that he didn’t want to teach the Ray-Addams children. But he couldn’t back out now, could he? He could always suggest homeschooling, right? That was a valid option that the family could consider (so that John never had to see them again). He’d dawdled for quite some time, and in that time Charles had gotten comfortable on his swivel chair and was absentmindedly using pencils as javelins to spear flies that buzzed around his study.

“What about my children, sir? I’m sorry, I just realised that I don’t know your name.”

John squeaked out a terrified:

“John Oak.”

Before returning to silence once more. He was terrified because the more this man knew about him the easier it would be for him to track down and murder him if John said something he didn’t like. So John had to play it very safe. With this in mind, he began explaining:

“Your children were never enrolled into a daycare, or a kindergarten. Local authorities just want to make sure that the twins are enrolled for the next school year, when they turn seven in about four weeks. Or of course you could homeschool, that might be better for you. You’d just have to make it official by filling out a form.”

Charles rested a hand on his chin and nodded thoughtfully as he said:

“My wife and I have been educating our children since they were born. My daughter has a particular passion for Shakespearean tragedies, and my little Glen learnt the periodic table before he learnt his ABCs, the boy just loves blowing things up, that’s how I know for certain that he’s an Addams.”

John nodded and let out a grateful sigh, excited that the Ray-Addams family would be homeschooling. With the decision seemingly made, John produced the required forms on his phone and sat down on a nearby chair to ask Charles a few questions.

“So, what is your current occupation?”

Charles shrugged and replied:

“I inherited a lot of money from my Great Uncle Gomez, not to mention the money from my father, so I mostly just do whatever interests me. I produce and sell art, I suppose. Is that my occupation or should we just put ‘unemployed’?”

John simply wrote ‘unemployed’, and moved on at a rapid pace, firing questions at Charles who had no trouble with keeping up and responding to each question with an in depth answer. Finally, the form was completed, and John could have jumped for joy that he was now able to leave. As he stood up and shook Charles’ hand, beginning to make his exit, Charles politely asked:

“We’re having a family game night tonight after dinner, would you like to stay?”

John was cursed with an inability to be impolite, so he found himself nodding, and immediately regretting that choice. In an attempt to find something positive in this situation, John timidly asked:

“W-what game would we be playing?”

Charles gave him another manic grin and replied:

“Executioner, it’s Glenda and I’s favourite game.”

John didn’t need any more context or proof of the Ray Addams family’s insanity, he simply bolted downstairs and out of the house without a word, faintly aware of Charles calling after him:

“Wait, you’ll come back sometime, won’t you?!”

[d0vegum]

actually frostbite and icicles relationship is really interesting to me because icicle is really fucking conflicted about him. he uses frostbite as a scapegoat while trying to manipulate rain into assuming the identity of shiver but in reality icicle is unsure of his opinions on his father as icicle has been manipulated by him until his death and beyond.

frostbite separated him from being able to be with shiver when he was very young and pretty quickly after shiver “ran away” (or more accurately, was forced out under the threat of death, but icicle didn’t know that). with that frostbite was left as his only known family member still in the herd and gets easily manipulated against his brother.

he’s been told his whole life that shivers unused power from his horn will be his. and he is given a power orb and while taking it on sees a flash of shiver with ember out in the desert. this makes icicle feel like shiver has abandoned him and thus even angrier about his brother, therefor even more susceptible to frostbites lies.

when he finally meets shiver they’re both different. shiver is fine but icicle is anything but. he’s been told by his father that shiver is ungrateful and stupid and icicle can’t help but agree when they meet again. his anger causes him to fight and almost defeat shiver until his power orb is broken and shiver and ember gets teleported to the sun herd leaving icicle with what looks like a power orb he broke. ironically putting him in the same situation shiver was in when his horn first broke of having the blame put on him.

when frostbite discovers it he loses it and attacks icicle with all the strength and anger he’s been holding in as well and throws him out into the freezing winter after breaking his horn. the moon herds unicorns horns help out with cold and heat protection so without them icicle is left out to slowly freeze. as he’s about to die frostbite tells him it is just a right of passage, and he deserves it for being ungrateful and stupid.

after icicle finally passes and gets trapped on the earth he feels the terrifyingly painful process of his horn- the core of his soul - getting turned into a weapon. his soul is forever stuck until the orb is destroyed and after that he will fade out of existence.

when he first sees rain he’s confused. he looks a lot like shiver did when he was young. however, he doesn’t care enough right now.

that is until frostbite finally dies, having his chest ripped open by shivers broken horn and dying off blood loss. before he passes he tells shiver that he breaks everything just like he broke his horn. shiver runs away in terror as rain watched his fathers crown and decides to become leader of the moon herd.

icicle sees an opportunity as their souls link through him taking on the crown with the power orb and rains astral horn and astral wings appear. *maybe his horn won’t get him to the afterlife but his brothers wings way*.

he needs a really good plan, and decides that he needs to make rain think he is shiver. and shiver thinks lowly of his father, so rain needs to be told to do so.

icicle i still unsure however, every waking moment (which is 24/7 as he doesn’t sleep anymore) he wonders about his father and his childhood.

god i love my ocs

[meow-town]

Finished!!!! (My art is bad, and I’m fairly new to digital art, so let me down slowly)

And as promised, a pair of HCs to go along with it!

Metal Family Halloween HCs! (General and x Reader)

-Dee acts like he doesn’t like dressing up, but he gets really into it. He was that one kid who always had the best, most original, most niche costumes (and you could always tell his parents would help him). He went as Cthulhu for Halloween once when he was 6 and he just looked adorable <333

-He really enjoys scary movies and actually doesn’t get easily spooked by them too, he crapped his pants watching Insidious though. He’s one of those people who reminds themselves that it’s not real, and it actually works for them.

-Doesn’t like gummies, just hard candies and chocolate bars. He thinks gummies are too sweet. So instead of trick or treating, he just goes out and buys a whole bag just for himself. (Also he thinks he’s way too old to go trick or treating) Much prefers handing out candy to the neighborhood kids in matching costumes with you, you were Victor and Emily from the Corpse Bride that year.

-Heavy is just in it for the candy, and he likes seeing black cats pop up on his instagram during October times. He also likes scary mazes and all that kind of stuff. Doesn’t mind dressing up and likes doing Halloween escape rooms with his friends. He’s the type of person who likes getting scared.

-Although Heavy has a huge thing for overly obscene Halloween masks, he loves the classic werewolf look. With his flannel and clip on cat ears. Dee always teases him saying he looks like a furry 😭

-Heavy will always join people to watch creepy movies, even if he watches them through the spaces in between his fingers. He’ll have his chest puffed out and say he doesn’t get scared easily, only to not be able to watch Chucky. Put on the most disturbing documentary about a serial killer who never got caught, and he’ll watch happily. Now, put on a crappy horror movie with the least scary antagonist you’ve ever seen, and he won’t be able to finish it. Unless of course, you’re there for him to cling onto at every screamer on your movie nights.

-Glam goes crazy on decoration and the spooky shit. I mean, his house has a replica of a ram’s skull on it. And that’s on during the whole year. He has impeccable taste in decoration, my man isn’t going to settle for plastic jack o lanterns scattered across his lawn, no.

-He will sculpt entire statues for Halloween, he’s good at everything so-

-Sculptures of fallen angels, imps, headless horsemen, characters from Lovecraft… He is also a big fan of fancy candles! He’ll have electric ones out on the orch to prevent fires, but inside the house he’s got tons of them. In really nice scents, as well. During Halloween season, the whole house smells of smoked sandalwood and lotus.

-Speaking of what Halloween season is to Glam, he puts up decorations as soon as September rolls around. It’s his favourite time of year. He also likes wearing cozy wool sweaters. Likes it even more when you’re piled on top of him with a weighted blanket, stroking your hair lovingly.

-He loves the history of Halloween but strongly dislikes the marketisation of it all.

-Victoria doesn’t have much of an opinion on it, but she enjoys watching scary movies with the family. For two reasons, they’re like the perfect date night movies for her and Glam, and because she loses her shit watching Heavy’s reactions.

-Victoria has this habit of going through Heavy’s collection of Halloween masks. She’ll scare the kids every chance she gets with them, spooking them whenever they turn a corner. Don’t worry though, she wouldn’t dare to scare you, she wouldn’t want to submit you to the Jigsaw mask Heavy has dug away in the attic.

[melina-ya]

What they’re like as boyfriends;

Characters; Takashi Mitsuya, Chifuyu Matsuno, Keisuke Baji.

Warnings; Baji. Just him being him.

Takashi Mitsuya;

He’s a sweetheart.

He’s responsible, reliable and always busy.

From school to the sewing club to taking care of his younger sisters to Toman meetings. He’s always busy.

Of course he wouldn’t want to change anything about his life, he loves the people around him and usually doesn’t mind his responsibilities. But he’s still human.

After another long day he can’t wait to just go to your house and lay in your arms in peace.

When he’s with you time passes so slowly, he can finally relax. Give this man a break istg.

You could be the most energetic person in the world, but when he’s with you? You’re completely calm. He just has kinda effect on people.

In his free time that he doesn’t have he loves making clothes for you. He’s got your entire measurements memorized and everything.

On dates it’s the cutest thing to see his little blush when he notices your choice of clothing. One of his best designs.

He absolutely loves it. You’re the most beautiful person in the world in his opinion, but with his clothes on you’re just on an entirely different level.

Meeting his friends for the first time was definitely,, an experience.

When you met Mitsuya you never would’ve guest he’s the second division captain of the Tokyo Manji gang. You didn’t mind, of course, but it was still a shocker.

His friends tho? An even bigger shocker.

How can gang members with a reputation like Toman be so- i don’t know.

You thought Mitsuya was an exception, that he was one of the good ones, but they’re all so,,, nice? Except for Baji he’s just questionable.

Long story short, you get along great with his friends, especially Hakkai, which is super important to him.

Also super important is that you get along with his family. He’s such a family person.

Chifuyu Matsuno;

Dating this man is like living in a shoujo manga.

He’s read so many, he knows exactly what to do. From kabedon to pulling you back by your wrist. Sometimes you really feel like you’re stuck in a romance story.

That however doesn’t mean he won’t get flustered. Every action he takes is being escorted by a rosy blush on his cheeks. He acts so defensive about it too.

Doesn’t like drama tho. I’m mangas there’s always so much going on, there’s no need for that. Wouldn’t want you to find a second male lead lmao.

This man is your own personal Wikipedia page. He knows everything. Every information that he gets is saved in his brain like it’s a database especially made for you.

Tell him your favorite flowers once and your entire house will be full of them.

He loves giving flowers.

It’s a great way to show appreciation in his opinion. He gets a little shy sometimes so he just gives you flowers instead of talking.

Is a romantic and will take you on the cutest dates ever.

For example, one time he took you to a cat cafe. He loves cats and hopefully so do you. Watching you play with the cats was the most adorable thing in the world for him.

But be warned, it wouldn’t be the first time to get your date crashed by a certain black haired menace.

‘Oh, ur’e on a date? Cute, anyways, so what movie are we watchin-?’ Kick him out. Now.

Loves showing you off.

Keisuke Baji;

Wow. You are in one hell of a ride.

He’s convinced committing arson together is the ideal kind of date. Kinda is.

Doesn’t understand why you’re so against it. It’s so romantic, an act of love. Obviously.

Would call you nicknames like ‘baby cakes’, ‘sugarplum’ and so on.

In public too, knowing how embarrassed you get afterwards.

Absolutely loves teasing, and behind the bad boy act he gets flustered pretty easily as well.

He’ll turn his face away from you to try and hide his adorable blush. It’s so cute. Would never admit to it tho.

May not always show it, but values you a lot. Sometimes at night he stays awake wishing you were laying next to him and literally can’t fall asleep for hours.

His life wouldn’t be the same without you. He knows that very much.

His love language is physical touch. Words aren’t really his thing, so he shows his affection through hand holding, kissing and cuddling.

Whenever you make each other promises, you always make pinky promises. Always.

Let’s you bread his hair into cute hairstyles. He goes full tsundere mode and denies they look spectacular on him. Secretly enjoys it, and your complements.

Also always Carries one extra hair tie for you.

Toman always asked themselves why you’re with him, then they witnessed first hand how whipped this man is for you.

He’s canonly the best husband in tr and it shows.

His mom absolutely adores you. She invites you over to dinner at least 3 times a week.

Don’t break his heart, please. </3

Overall experience: 9,9/10. minus 0,1 cuz of ep 21.

a/n; thank you for reading.

[folkloreguk]

💌🧸 Brother's Best Friend

A/N: Got this request a while ago and now I'm wondering why I've never written this trope before bc this was so fun??? Lmk how you liked it! x

genre: optional bias (m) x reader (f), smut, size/strength kink??, choking, dom!bias (it’s kinda playful tho), brother's best friend!au, sneaking around, play fighting, lowkey getting caught but not directly?

words: ~ 4.1 k

disclaimer: I don’t mean for the age gap to be gigantic…I’m talking about anything from 1-2 years maximum tbh!!! Anything else would be weird and I’m not about that! They’re also both obviously consenting adults!

[H/N means 'his (bias) name']

In youreyes, your first meeting had been a disaster. The new spider man movie had been released only days ago, and you were adamant on seeing it. And to your luck, your older brother and his best friend had already made plans to watch it together. As a little sister, you were treated like the baby of the family, and it didn’t matter that you were far from being an infant anymore. So naturally, your brother had been condemned by your parents to bring you along. He declared his distaste in your presence by attempting to ignore you, but you were used to that. Just like you were aware of his bad moods, you knew he could change within minutes and magically turn into the sweetest, most caring big brother you could wish for.

Whatever. You didn’t need his approval to enjoy the trip to the movie theater, you told yourself. Had it not been for his best friend, who you hadn’t seen in ages. H/N and you had never properly spoken before, and the last time you saw him he had been an awkward, prepubescent boy who had appeared at your door to pick up your brother for a playdate. There was no trace of immaturity now. Instead, it was you who had morphed into an awkward, shy mess at the sight of him.

His ‘hello’ had a warm and deep melody to it which swooped you up in his aura so suddenly, you had no time to prepare. Had his smile always been this stupidly charming? Hell, it was so bright, you had to meticulously inspect the ground every time he sent a grin your way. When before you hadn’t felt guilty for being a bother, you now sure did. What impression would you leave, trailing behind the older boys like a lost puppy? What would he take you for? The annoying little sister who didn’t have friends of her own? The mood-killer, who wouldn’t understand any of the boys’ inside jokes? The anti-social, weird girl who was obsessed with fictional men, like people loved to belittle teenage girls with normal interests?

As things turned out, his initial opinion of you was quite the opposite. If only you could have spied into his brain, it would have saved you a landslide of worry. Although your brother took up all of H/N’s attention before the movie started, he noticed you a good amount. To be precise, you blew him away at first sight. Your cute laugh won him over in a matter of seconds and he liked that your merch sweater could have been stolen straight out of his own closet. He didn’t want to feel too smug, but the way you diverted your eyes away from him whenever he looked in your direction only boosted his confidence further.

Your brother might have warned him. Stay away from her. She’s off limits for you. But not a thousand vicious, older brothers could have kept him from trying to get to you. It was up to you, after all, whether you wanted him around or not, and not to your brother. From that day on, H/N didn’t skip out on a chance to see you, even if it meant merely an exchange of a few words, or a simple greeting. And to his luck, you turned out to be equally as enraptured by him.

There was something about the untouchable, the forbidden, that attracted him to you even more. Plus, you were simply too precious to forget about. One morning, you dropped off a beanie at his place, which he had left at your house after meeting with your big brother the previous day. When he had asked if he could drive you to school as a thank you, you happily accepted. You had marked that day as the first day of your new life. First, it was harmless flirting. To be honest, you were under the impression he was merely messing with you. Because you were the cute little sister of his best friend. Because you would turn into an awkward shell of a person who had lost all ability to articulate, and your cheeks would burn as if they were on fire, whenever he charmed you.

But the flirting slowly reached newer levels, and before you knew it you were discussing your sexual fantasies over text messages and giving him bedroom eyes as you opened the front door for him. “H/N’s here!” you would then shout to your big brother. Then you would watch the two boys walk off to your brother’s room, pondering why life had to be this way for you. It wasn’t fair. Siblings were supposed to share, right? Why did you have to wait your turn until after midnight, when no one would notice, to spend time with H/N?

But to H/N, the sneaking around in the middle of the night and the secret messages you sent to each other, it all added to the excitement. Surely, there were days on which he wished he could just break the truth to your brother. The impact it could have on their friendship was enough intimidation for him to refrain, though. Things were better off this way, for now.

Today was no exception to your usual lies. When your brother asked if you would go out with him to do some shopping, you had played the victim and feigned a stomachache. Your parents wouldn’t be home all weekend. You’d have been stupid to waste a perfect opportunity like that. Who knew when you could have H/N in your bed the next time? Normally, you were restricted to his car, or to his bed in the dark of night. Yes, those places had something enticing at first glance. But the backseat of a car was only enjoyable for so many clandestine meetings. So today you notified him of your golden opportunity before your brother had even walked out the door.

The moment H/N texted you that he was outside your home, you opened the front door and dragged him to your room.

“Are you in control today, little one?” he asked, closing the bedroom door after you.

“Why are you asking that?” you replied, not wanting to talk at all but rather do so much more productive things.

“I don’t know…perhaps because you haven’t let me say a word since I came through the door,” he said.

“Right. Maybe I’m planning on tying you up, blindfolding you, and torturing you with ice and wax,” you joked in a casual tone, despite not usually requesting such graphic ideas.

“I don’t know if I’d let you do that,” he grinned with raised eyebrows. “Besides, I know you’d rather be at the receiving end of that. It’s a sweet idea, though. If we had some more time…”

“Think you could get away from me if I tied you up?” you said, but he was towering over you with the calmness of a king who knew he reigned over the situation.

“We both know I’m stronger than you, doll,” he said. You didn’t like it when boys called you weak. But you’d let it slide, knowing he was only joking and would never underestimate you outside of the bedroom. He put his lips right up to yours, so you felt his breath on them. His fingers came up to cup your face, but then slowly inched to your neck. When they closed around your neck, putting the slightest amount of pressure on your skin, you whimpered quietly.

“Need reminding?” he asked. As much pent-up frustration you had, and as much as your stomach was flipping upside down from how badly you needed him, you just had to play with him. You knew it would make for more fun.

“I think- “ you started, with a grin. Then you grabbed him by the front of his shirt and pushed him backwards, until he was stumbling. Although caught off guard, he was quick to pull you along with him as he fell onto your bed. You landed on top of him with a small squeal.

“Go on, let’s see who can throw the other off the bed first,” he teased with a superiority that only spurred you on. Then again, you would always be in the mood for the oldest childhood game you had ever known. Only now it wasn’t your brother, but his best friend you were playing against. It added a layer of excitement, and after only seconds, giggles had overtaken you as you struggled in his grip.

“No tickling is allowed,” you said. He nodded obediently with a smirk that told you he might not abide by your rules.

At first, you had attempted to hold him down by his arms. But your legs tangled, and he pushed his chest up against yours, like he was about to flip you over. Your plan seemed to be working only momentarily. You groaned a little as he grabbed your wrists swiftly and held his stance against your attempt to pull his upper body to the side.

“Cute,” he said. That’s when you realized, he was barely struggling, barely trying, even. While you were giving your most, he smirked like he was watching a kitten trying to fight a lion. It was child’s play to him, keeping you in check. Literally. With an annoying expression of amusement on his face, he let you have the upper hand for a while. Then, as if you had never had an ounce of advantage, he turned it around and pulled you into him. His eyes suggested he might just send you tumbling down onto the floor any moment now. Nonetheless, you weren’t going to give up so easily. Taking your chances, you let go of his arms and moved sideways, so you could have your go at pushing him towards the edge of the mattress.

“I don’t think so,” he said. Suddenly, he bear-hugged your body and rolled you both over. Before you could protest or defend yourself, your arm was dangling off the side of your bed and if you had moved a tiny bit further, you would have slid off the bedsheets and right onto your carpet. It was his turn to straddle you now. As if his actions hadn’t been enough declarations of his strength, he pinned your wrists to the bed above your head and gave you a challenging smirk.

“I was going to let you win, doll. But you weren’t trying hard enough,” he said. “What are you going to do about it?”

What were you going to do? He had you completely immobilized. “Just let it go, then. We get it, you’re super strong and super big and the coolest,” you said.

He seemed to take an instant liking to your declaration. “Say it again. This time minus the eye-rolling, sugar.”

“You’re stronger than me,” you said, trying to avoid the laughter that was threatening to come out. Could he read in your gaze how badly you wanted him to kiss you already? If he could, he wasn’t acting on it. Instead, he bent to the crook of your neck and spoke.

“Does it turn you on that I can overpower you?” his breath fanned your ear and you had to close your eyes to control yourself.

“Yes. Because I trust you,” you answered truthfully. The corner of his lips curled into a cocky grin.

“You know what? I think I’d rather you stay in bed with me instead of throwing you on the floor. There’s so many things we can do up here, isn’t that right, little one?” His lips brushed over your cheek and then over your lips as he spoke. The nickname had always made you weak in the knees and he knew it. When he finally enveloped your lips in a kiss, you swore you could feel an electric spark jump between the two of you. The mellowness of it turned into hunger rapidly, and as soon as his tongue flicked over your bottom lip, you whimpered like you hadn’t seen him in a year.

“Needy, are we?” he asked, running his hand up your sides and underneath your shirt. He could say that again. “Let’s get these off, then.”

The seconds in which you pulled off your clothes and couldn’t hang on his lips and feel his skin on your body should have been considered a form of torture in itself. Then, time always went by so much slower than usually.

When you had both shed off your clothes, he climbed back on top of you. Instead of straddling your hips he was now resting between your legs. There was nothing separating you from him, and it was apparent not only through the body heat that radiated off him. He reached down and whilst peppering kisses on your chest, slid his fingers through your slick arousal that was pooling in your core.

“You’re so wet,” he said in surprise, but couldn’t hide his approval and self-confidence in his voice.

“I know,” you said, rolling your eyes but simultaneously fighting the urge to moan at the smallest of touches he was teasing your with. “I’m so horny. Can’t we skip foreplay?”

“Poor doll,” he said. “I should’ve come over earlier, huh?”

“You know that wasn’t possible,” you said. With a desperate look, you pleaded him silently.

“I wanna taste you,” he said, but your put your hand on his cheek softly.

“Maybe later?” you said. “Please, I need to have you inside of me. Now.”

“You’re extra cute when you’re this needy,” he smiled. “Are there still condoms in your nightstand?”

You nodded and had never moved so fast to open a drawer in your life. Pretending to have any patience left, you waited for him to roll on the rubber.

“I love the way you look at me,” he said. “When you’re waiting for me. Could watch you for hours.”

“God, I hope you won’t. Come here, please?” you replied, making him chuckle. He lined himself up with your core, but then made no inclination to move ahead. His dark eyes and little head tilt told you everything.

“Don’t mess with me anymore,” you whined, reaching for the back of his neck to pull him closer. “Do it. H/N.”

“Beg for it.” His words twisted something in the pit of your stomach. Although you were burning with hunger, you could never say no to him. Then again, you were curious to see what would happen if you did.

“What if I don’t? Don’t you want to fuck me as much as I want it?” you challenged him. Something glinted in his eyes, and you knew you shouldn’t have even brought it up.

“I can always do this,” he said, and you followed his eyes down his body and to where he had wrapped his hand around his cock. Slowly, he jerked himself off, and you weren’t sure he was biting his lip because of the feeling or to discompose you. His small sigh should’ve been caused by you. This wasn’t what you had wanted. His tip was right by your slit. He could’ve pushed his length in so easily, and yet he wasn’t. Debating what to say, you kept your eyes trained on his hard member that looked so delicious in his hands. His deep groans rang in your ears. It didn’t take long for you to cave.

“Fuck. That should be me around you,” you said. “That should be my pussy you’re fucking and not your hands. Please.”

“Isn’t that right?” he said.

“Yes. Please, fuck me. I would feel so much better than your hands, and you know it. Please,” you whined. “I need you right now H/N. Please.”

You added another ‘please’ – for good measure – because the way his tongue darted out and licked his smirking lips could make you say anything if it would get him to fuck you.

“It’s okay, I’ll take care of you,” he said. “Think you can take me?”

“Yes, yes-, I can! Please, fuck me,” you said in a waterfall of words, and he chuckled handsomely.

“Good girl,” he said, running a gentle hand over your head. “If it’s too much you let me know.”

“As always.”

The tip of his cock gently pushed into your core, making you hold your breath as he entered you slowly. It caused you to feel every inch with every second. Your brain felt fuzzy, and you sighed gratefully at the relief.

“Fuck, you’re so perfect,” he moaned. The carefulness in his thrusts paired with his moon eyes at you only remained that way for a few seconds. Then, he straightened up and grabbed your hips to drag you in closer. You moaned helplessly when he almost pulled out completely, so slowly it almost made you crazy, only to slam his length into you until his tip brushed against the deepest spot inside of you. It was an action he repeated over and over, until you were reduced to a puddle of desperate whimpers, and you clasped the bedsheets in your hands tightly.

“You like it this way, little one?” he asked. He was apparently finding enjoyment in your reaction. How you could barely keep your eyes open, and when you did, your eyeballs threatened to roll to the back of your head. How your fingers clenched around the closest plushie, and you cradled it against your chest in bliss.

“Yes- fuck,” you said. “Feels so good.”

Of course, right as you said this, he had to change things up. His thrusts turned lazy and messy as he leaned backwards slightly. With an equally lazy demeanor, his thumb flicked over your clit, rubbing circles on it.

“Let me hear you. Say my name,” he said, and you quietly moaned his name. You adored the way it sounded, voiced like this, with barely more than a breath underneath your soft tone. Now and then, his cock slipped out of you, making you clench around nothing and furthermore had you going completely out of your mind. When he would push himself into your opening again, it felt as if it was the first time he was entering you today. Except you felt it repeatedly, each time as incredible as the previous. Your mouth hung open, rendered speechless except for the little moans and whimpers sounding from your throat. There was a familiar knot beginning to form in your stomach, tying firmer with each passing minute.

As if he could read your mind, he decided then he was done with his sweet torture of teasing you to an orgasm. You couldn’t be mad at him, though, because what he had planned was just as perfect, if not better. His hands wandered to their original place on your sides, and he began to snap his hips into yours at a faster pace. A small cry of surprise left your lips, while he only smirked at you through heavy-lidded eyes. Impulsively, you lifted your legs a little, intensifying the feeling of his member roughly dragging through your velvet walls.

“H/N, I’m so close,” you whimpered.

“Me too,” he replied, not slowing down for a second.

His broad frame towering over your body was a sight you would never get enough of and his gazes at you were hot enough that they could have stopped your heart in its tracks. A few strands of hair stuck to his forehead and there was a thin sheet of sweat on his neck. It all just made him more breathtaking to you. The slight pain from his nails digging into the skin on your waist was staggering, and you could barely wait to see the masterpiece of marks he would leave tonight.

You were a moaning mess, flying on cloud nine and simultaneously overwhelmed by his treatment of you. It clouded your mind at took over your whole body like you were made for him to fuck you. His length filled up your tight hole and he did it with such force that your whole body rocked into your mattress in a steady, fast-paced rhythm. He let go of your waist then and supported himself on his arm by the side of your head. When his other hand went to your neck you shuddered in anticipation.

“You should see yourself with my hand around your throat,” he said. “So pretty, little one.”

“We can do it in front of a mirror sometime- ,” you suggested, but were cut off at the end of the sentence as his fingers tightened on your neck. Instantly, the effect of it hit you. The lack of oxygen made your head swim in a sea of pleasure and the unrelenting desire to come. Through fluttering eyelids, you peeked up at him. The way he licked his lips and then clenched his jaw, the gorgeous shape of his collarbones and shoulders – you sometimes wondered if he was even real. Every so often he loosened his grip on you. When he did, you took gulps of air and then instantly whined for him to choke you again.

“Let go for me,” he said. “Show me your pretty face when I make you come. I’m fucking you well, aren’t I?”

You nodded as well as you could when he was gripping your throat and you couldn’t breathe properly at the moment. It didn’t matter you couldn’t talk. He was probably not expecting you to answer, either way. In a pleasure-induced trance, you closed your eyes and let it happen, like he had asked it from you. Your hazy consciousness barely registered that he was reaching his high with you. Too overcome were you, with your thighs trembling uncontrollably and your back arching off the mattress. He had let go of your neck and was riding out his own orgasm with sloppy thrusts that only sent you into another frenzy and had you whimpering his name softly. When he had finished too, he slowed down and pulled you into a gentle kiss, rubbing his nose against yours sweetly.

“That was amazing,” he said, and with a blissful hum you nodded. Your lips changed into a pout when he rolled off you and got up. You were tired of sending him back home so quickly. As he discarded the condom in the bin, you put on your most enchanting eyes, so he would have no other choice.

“Stay a little longer, please,” you asked. You knew he wanted to, as well. So although he was aware that your brother could return at any moment, he tumbled back into bed with you.

“Just for a little while,” he said. “Mhm…you’re so perfect to cuddle, baby.” His embrace was warm and his scent comforting, as he hummed a lovely melody. The soft touch of his fingers running through your hair lulled you right into a light sleep. You were awoken rather abruptly, and with half a heart attack.

“Hey Y/N, have you seen my charger- “ your brother’s voice suddenly broke through the silence and you wondered if you would have to pack up and leave the country after this sort of embarrassment.

“It’s not what it looks like,” you said, knowing well enough it was the dumbest thing you could have said. But who could blame you? You had only woken up two seconds ago.

“Really?” your brother asked. “Because I hear H/N sneak into our house so often lately, I’m starting to wonder if his parents threw him out.”

His tone was surprisingly calm.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve told you,” H/N said to your brother. “I thought you’d hate me and that we’d be over as friends.”

“I know I told you once to leave Y/N alone. But now…I guess it’s cool. She’s been in a great mood lately, and if that’s thanks to you, I think I can approve of you two. Although I’m not looking forward to being a third wheel, I think I can get used to it if I try hard enough,” your brother said. You couldn’t believe your ears, and involuntarily smiled like a fool. No more hiding. No more secrets.

“I stole your charger. I’m sorry,” you said then, making your brother roll his eyes. “It’s by the sofa in the living room.”

“Great. I needed a reason to leave anyway,” your brother said. “I might approve of you, but this situation is still too awkward. I’ll see you tomorrow, then, H/N?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” the boy in your bed said.

“You’ll see me too!” you added as a joke, as your brother already walked away from the door.

“Unfortunately I will!” your brother shouted, with the unnerving tone only a big brother could possibly muster.

[zivazivc]

Pinocchio AU

Okay people want the explanation for this comic so here it goes. It’s long and complicated and MESSED UP because of course it is, this is me. I’m going to write in points because my small tired brain can’t handle good english atm but basically to sum up the Adrien was a sentimonster theory or Pinocchio AU as I like to call it:

Young married Emilie and Gabriel can’t have kids. Gabriel reluctantly accepts this fate and even brings up adoption as a possibility once, but Emilie doesn’t want to hear any of that. She’s a bit of a Marinette in the sense that she pictures this romanticized ideal life for herself and a child—her flesh and blood—HAS to be in it.

They keep trying to get a baby while other young families Emilie knows keep growing. She feels left out and hurt and depressed, then her newlywed twin sister announces she’s expecting a baby too and something within Emilie just unhinges.

She eventually lies to some of her friends, who she was out for coffee with, that she’s pregnant too. She mostly does it just to see their reaction and feel what it would be like but it quickly spirals out of control where she just starts pretending she’s pregnant until you can’t even tell if she believes it herself.

Gabriel is confused at first because he hears the news second hand (a friend/family member congratulating him) so he’s apprehensive when he approaches his wife but she convinces him that they really are getting a baby and Gabriel is ecstatic.

It’s only later at a doctor’s check up that Gabriel learns that she indeed is not pregnant. The doctor even speaks to him alone explaining that his wife is in denial and that he should make sure she goes to see a psychiatrist, something she definitely wouldn’t do alone.

Gabriel is unsuccessful with that because he’s not entirely persistent, doesn’t want to be the guy with the crazy wife having to tell everyone she lied about being pregnant, and hopelessly believes she’ll just get over it eventually.

That is until her “pregnancy is near due”—her sister already had Félix in England a few months ago—and he stumbles on her transformed with her peacock miraculous (they already have both of them) creating a sentimonster newborn.

They have a huge fight about it but because Emilie refuses to destroy it, won’t tell Gabriel where the amok is, and Gabriel can’t just hurt the baby with his hands, Emilie just… wins. Fucked up, yeah?

Now she tried creating kids before this one, using her imagination to try and blend her and Gabriel’s looks but it just wasn’t working. So she decided to copy of photos of baby Félix because he already looked almost like a copy of his mother, and Amélie and Emilie already looked alike so it’s not so weird?—is what her mind was telling her.

She didn’t dare alter his looks but she decided to give the baby Gabriel’s eye color to include the “father” in some way. (Yes in that comic I made I gave Adrien a mix of green and gray but that was mainly to get the point across to the perceptive readers)

Now we got Adrien, a normal baby boy to the whole world except for Gabriel who’s forced into his wife’s fantasy through social expectations.

Why are we only at this point and this post is already so long AAAAAAAA!!!

Adrien physically basically grows in a way where Emilie just keeps changing his appearance to match what Félix looked like a few months prior.

Mentally he’s like a robot just taking in information without really needing to learn it. So Emilie decides when he says his first word, she decides when he learns to walk,… He knows how to walk, he just wasn’t given the command to do so yet.

But even so he does develop a personality over time, just slower, because unlike a normal child who’s always testing his boundaries, how far they’re allowed to go until they’re in real trouble, Adrien just can’t misbehave. At all.

But he does have his favorite foods and favorite toys, and jokes that make him laugh the most. The problem is just that Emilie could just decide that his favorite food is strawberries and he’d just start acting accordingly, rewiring his belief. 

He also isn’t allowed to argue or be mean to others which is why Félix thinks he’s a goody two-shoes weirdo while Chloé the brat adores him.

This behavior isn’t so hard to hide with a toddler who’s fickle but it’s harder and harder as the kid grows. Which is why the family becomes very secluded over time.

Gabriel always keeps distance with his “son”. He’s not Dad, he’s Father, he doesn’t do hugs and cuddles, he doesn’t say I love you. But Adrien knows he loves him because his mom told him so and he loves him back unconditionally because Mom said that’s what families do.

Now even though Gabriel is traumatized by this whole ordeal and knowing Adrien “isn’t real” freaks him out he does soften a bit over time. I’m going to give an awful example but like someone who hates cats softening for a cat that their partner/roommate decided to get/had from before. Continuing with this example: But still becoming appalled when the cat starts acting odd/unusually.

Okay I think you get the gist. Let’s move on…

Emilie loves her son more and more as he grows and his sentimonster behaviours start bothering her more and more too. She hates being reminded that he’s not a real boy by people mentioning he looks young for his age because Emilie forgot to make him grow for a while. She hates when he does everything like he’s told. She hates that he has no real friends because they’re afraid to expose him to the outside too much and without supervision. She hates to think about his future.

Her desire for him to be real keeps growing and is what drives her to search for a solution in the miraculous spellbook.

She cracks the script after years, when Adrien is nearly a teen, and finds a way to transfer the creators soul into a sentimonster.

It’s a long process that takes time and while she falls ill to everyone around her, Adrien becomes more real.

Gabriel starts realizing what’s happening when he notices Adrien hesitate for a second when he’s playing a video game and Gabriel wants him to do something, groan when he gets bothered watching TV, huff, complain, have slightly opposing opinions to his and Emilie’s, when he argues with his mother when she tells him she’s feeling fine; when he notices his son’s eyes are greener. Or is it all in his head?

He confronts his wife too late, when she’s extremely ill already, her normally vibrant eyes dulled match Adrien’s bluish gray, and he pieces together in his head what she’s doing.

Before Gabriel could properly think what to do to stop the love of his life from turning into a lifeless doll, in a fit of panic he tries to take her wedding band (where he knows Adrien’s amok is) to get rid of Adrien instead, but is unsuccessful in getting it off her so he snatches her peacock brooch instead (which she needs to complete the spell obvs) and breaks it. (Heyoo! broken peacock miraculous. things are coming together)

Because the spell was almost complete anyway it’s Emilie who falls unconscious. But she doesn’t disappear because she’s not a real sentimonster, she just becomes dormant like one.

This is the point in the story where Gabriel makes it seem like Emilie ran away or something like that—basically disappear. Now he’s living knowing he has an almost sentimonster wife in the basement, knowing he almost killed his son (or her), and having to care for a son that suddenly became much more alive, questioning, arguing, angry, screaming, not accepting, crying, grieving, staring at him with Emilie’s eyes.

Instead of becoming a real parent, Gabriel shuts him out.

Soon Adrien evolves desires for socializing, company, getting away from the suffocating home which eventually leads to him going to a public school.

He slowly starts to live life freely without the restrictions that were put around his thoughts.

Gabriel has an even stranger relationship with Adrien now because he still loves him in a way but also holds resentment toward him. But mostly he sees him as something valuable.

The show happens here…  And now finally we get to the comic…

Gabriel gets a hold of the ladybug and black cat miraculouses. (There’s no epic fight in his lair as you see there’s no Ladybug in the comic but that’s not really important)

What’s important is that Gabriel had deciphered the miraculous spellbook with the help of Emilie’s notes and had decided to use the unification’s “wish” power to awaken Emilie.

He’s aware he’ll need to sacrifice something for the wish to come true and he’s certain Adrien should be enough because the soul inside him is literally the one thing Emilie is missing.

✨Adrien (poor boy just lost his miraculous) is taken to Gabriel’s lair, where he finds out his father is Hawk Moth, sees his mother, learns he’s a sentimonster, and that he’s going to become a sacrifice ✨

Of course the last part is not what happens. It’s Gabriel who ends up being sacrificed.

I can’t decide if Gabriel ends up sacrificing himself because he changed his mind in the last moment while Adrien was screaming for him to stop, OR  because he didn’t love Adrien enough for him to be considered an equal exchange for his wife… O.O

But anyhow…

Emilie wakes up with Gabriel’s soul within her (hence the bluish gray eyes in the comic).

Adrien is traumatized for life.

This took me hours to write… I knew there was a reason why I didn’t want to do it. I hope I didn’t forget anything and my brain made sense of it all

Well there you have it, peeps. The Pinocchio AU. It’s as messed up as my sleep schedule. Good night. 

[frostedfaves]

Dark Paradise

Masterlist

Pairing: dark!WandaNat x fem!reader

Summary: You meet the infamous Avengers on spring break with your best friend Peter, and two of them seem to adore you more than expected. Requested here by my lovely 🐞anon.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY!!! dark themes, manipulation, mind control, blackmailing, age gap (reader is 21), dubcon (saying this just to be safe because Wanda uses her powers for evil a lot here), smut: oral, fingering, penetration/sex toy use, voyeurism (kinda), edging, overstimulation (if I forgot something please let me know!)

A/N: hi this is 6k words, which is the longest single fic I’ve ever written/posted here haha. also the end is not technically the end, if you know what I mean. anyway this took forever to write so enjoy this super far from canon fic and please tell me what you thought!! (also if you’re on my taglist and you weren’t tagged it’s because your age wasn’t in your bio)

-

“Here, let me take that for you,” Peter offers when he notices you headed toward the car, and you hand your suitcase to him with a smile.

“Thanks, P.”

You close the car door behind you after getting in on the passenger side, instantly reaching for his phone resting on the dashboard once you were buckled in. The two of you had an unspoken rule that you controlled the music whenever you traveled together, so his library was filled with various playlists you’d created simply because you didn’t trust him not to listen to the same five songs for the rest of his life.

“This is different,” Peter comments as he gets in on the driver’s side and catches the opening notes to an upbeat song. “I thought you were going to go with something calmer to help you sleep, like you usually do.”

“Well, I’m not usually going to meet the Avengers, so I’m too nervous to sleep.” You turn to pout at him as he drives off. “Is it too late to cancel?”

“Don’t even think about it. If I show up without you, everyone will think you’re imaginary.”

“Do they think you can’t make any friends outside of Ned?” you question as you open a bottle of water. “Because they’re not wrong.”

“I can make friends!” Peter whines and a quiet snorting sound escapes you. 

“You can’t use me as an example.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not actually friends.”

He picks up on your teasing nature and rolls his eyes, causing you to laugh as you lean back and settle into your seat more. You had well over three hours to stress about spending a week with the world’s most popular superheroes, and you’d rather be comfortable while you do so.

-

“Wake up, we’re here!”

Your eyes fly open at the sound of Peter’s voice, and any of the nerves that left long enough to let you sleep made a U-turn and hit you again, full force. Sitting up straight in the seat, you practice breathing properly while stretching and taking a look around as he pulls into the garage.

“Are you okay?” Peter asks once he parks, placing a hand over yours as he meets your gaze and you smile.

“I’ll be fine, P. I’m not gonna miss out on hanging out with you just because your super family is super intimidating.”

“Good. Besides, it won’t even be that bad! I’m willing to bet $1 million that they’ll love you.”

“I appreciate your optimism,” you tell him as the two of you get out of the car. “But you’re going to regret that bet when I use your money to retire early in some faraway rural town.”

Peter carried both suitcases as you made your way to an elevator, and you jumped when you suddenly heard a male voice.

“Welcome, Mr. Parker and Ms. L/N.”

“What is that?” you questioned as you faced Peter with wide eyes and he chuckled. 

“You’re hearing Jarvis, Mr. Stark’s AI. Hey Jarvis, can you take us to the common room, please?”

“Right away, Mr. Parker.”

“This is so cool,” you comment as you look around the suddenly moving elevator. “How does it know my name?”

“Knowing everything is kind of its job, I guess.”

“Underoos!” a voice calls as soon as the doors open, quickly revealing itself to belong to Tony Stark as his gaze lands on you next. “So she is real.”

“I told you!” Peter defends as you step off the elevator together. “Mr. Stark, this is Y/N.”

“Nice to meet you, kid,” Tony greets you with a shake of your hand. “I’m glad he found you. I was starting to worry that he’d build a robot to spend the rest of his life with.”

“I’m just his best friend, so it’s still possible.”

“Is this your friend, Peter?” Steve cuts off Peter’s response as he enters the room, moving to shake your hand next. “I’m Steve. Nice to meet you.”

“Okay, I’m going to show her to our rooms and then we’ll be back for dinner,” Peter tells everyone once you’d been introduced to Pepper, Bruce and Clint as well, and you’re about to head for the elevator again when someone interrupts.

“How about we take her down to her room instead?”

Your eyes widen as you watch none other than Natasha Romanoff and Wanda Maximoff enter the room hand in hand. Natasha’s hair seemed much longer than the last time she’d been in the public eye, but her all-knowing smirk was just the same and her green eyes were even more piercing in person. You noticed a bit of red glowing in Wanda’s eyes, which faded as she probably realized you’d seen, and you couldn’t help but wonder if that meant she hated you already.

“I know what you’re up to, Red.” Tony seemed accusatory as he pointed a finger at the pair. “You can’t bribe her into helping you cheat tonight.”

“Maybe I planned on giving her tips for surviving this testosterone filled tower.” 

Natasha steps forward and grabs your hand with her free one, and with a flick of her wrist, Wanda has your suitcase floating in front of you as they lead you into the elevator.

“Sorry to whisk you away like that,” Wanda apologizes as the doors close with her head tilted to see you past Natasha. “We’re just excited to meet a new woman here.”

“No, it’s okay!” you insist breathlessly, your nerves slowly returning as Natasha lightly squeezes your hand. “I’m actually really excited to meet the two of you.”

“You know who we are?”

“Well, I wouldn’t say that I know you personally, but I know that you’re one of the original team members.” You make eye contact briefly with Natasha before turning to Wanda. “And because the news stations somehow get ahold of everything, I know you joined after you helped everyone stop Ultron before he could create that indestructible body and destroy the world.”

“Yes, that’s true. Although I wish I could’ve saved my brother, too.”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you lost him...or that you even had a brother.”

“It’s okay,” Wanda assures you with a smile as she lets go of Natasha, shifting to the other side of the elevator to grab your free hand. “I asked Fury to keep Pietro a secret because I didn’t want to see or hear any negative opinions from people that never even met him.”

“And we have plenty of time to get to know each other,” Natasha chimes in as the doors open to reveal a new setting. “This is our floor. We set up a spare bedroom here so we can spend time together away from the boys...when you’re not with Peter, of course.”

“Yeah, that’d be great!” 

They lead you past their living room and kitchen, and you shamelessly admire the simple decor with little personal touches spread about. Turning into a hallway, Natasha walks ahead of you and Wanda to open a door to a bedroom.

“What do you think?” she asks with a smile that widens upon seeing your expression. “I’m guessing it’s good, then.”

“It’s perfect!” you cry out as you walk past to enter the room, immediately noticing the eggshell colored walls trimmed with your favorite color along the borders. “Wow, this is four times the size of a normal bedroom. Wait a minute.”

“Do you like it?” Wanda asks when she sees you pick up the glass figurine on the nightstand. “Peter mentioned your love of this animal and I have a whole collection of them from different places.”

“Like it? I love it! I have the same one in my dorm room!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I can get you a different one.” She steps forward as she brings your suitcase to the floor beside the bed and you hug the small object close to your chest. 

“Like I said, it’s perfect,” you assure her with a grin, which brings one to her own face.

“Well, I’m glad you’re happy with the set up. When you’re ready to head up to dinner, we’ll be waiting by the elevator. Also, if you ever need anything, our room is right across the hall.”

Natasha points to the closed door a few feet away, and you acknowledge her statement with a nod before they leave the room, closing your door nearly all the way behind them. You flop down on the bed with a dreamy sigh as you gaze up at the ceiling with a night sky painted on it.

“I don’t think I’ll ever want to leave this place.”

-

On the elevator ride up to join everyone for dinner, Natasha and Wanda take turns asking you questions about your classes and any friends you’d made, what you liked to do when you weren’t studying. You had to admit that the level of interest they had with you was shocking but flattering, especially when they insisted you sit between them at the table to continue your conversation.

“You don’t seem to be nervous anymore,” Peter acknowledges as you sit down, and Wanda faces you immediately.

“Were you nervous about meeting us?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer timidly, avoiding catching anyone’s curious glances by directing a glare toward Peter. “You might be normal people in here, but to the rest of the world, you’re portrayed as powerful and untouchable beings.”

“Maybe when they’re not talking about how much damage we’ve caused,” Bruce mumbles under his breath as the elevator doors opened again. 

“I’m here, I’m here!” a voice calls as footsteps hurry toward the dining area, and Sam Wilson is revealed as he rounds the corner. “Sorry, I’m late. I was--”

“On a date, we know. You only told us that 500 times.”

“Don’t be jealous, old man. You’re married.” Sam grins at Clint as he sits next to him before his attention turns to you. “Do we have a newbie?”

“No, Mr. Wilson. This is my best friend, Y/N.”

“Call me Sam, kid.” He smiles at you as he goes for his silverware, and you’re just about to acknowledge him when his expression suddenly turns serious. “I’m sorry. You’re not a kid. You’re an independent and capable adult, and I should address you as such.”

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know.” Sam clears his throat and shakes his head as if he was clearing his mind. “I just suddenly felt the need to correct myself…You have any powers we should know about, Y/N?”

“No!” you quickly respond with widened eyes. “I wasn’t going to say anything, actually. I’m pretty used to older people calling me kid by now.”

From your left side, Natasha asks Clint to recall an embarrassing tale for you and the table livens up again, but you can’t seem to move past the unsettling way Sam shifted gears from calm and casual to uptight and disciplined. The image stayed with you through the rest of dinner even after he seemed to fully recover, until dishes were cleared away and replaced with games, and you suddenly had a lot more to focus on.

“I just don’t think it’s fair that he gets to be on your team again when I haven’t had him once.”

“Is anything fair with the guy who could use his personalized AI to cheat for him?”

“Could I do that? Yes. But have I done that? Maybe.”

“Wanna grab some fresh air with us?” Natasha suddenly asks you, causing you to frown.

“Aren’t we about to play another game?”

“It’ll take them another half hour before they finally decide something,” Wanda assures you as her fingers thread through yours gently. “We have plenty of time, and they won’t even notice we’re gone.”

They lead you by the hand to the elevator once more, going up a few floors before leading you out onto a balcony. Because you were so much higher than most of the surrounding buildings, there was an incredible view of the sun that was probably minutes away from disappearing to the other side of the world. The air is chillier than when you’d arrived, but you had to admit that standing in the cool breeze is worth a few goosebumps on your skin. Your hands are released as you reach a bench near the ledge, and you climb over it to sit as the other two women settle on either side of you.

“Why did Peter decide to share his secret with you?”

“Technically he didn’t,” you recall with a laugh. “He’d gone out to deal with something that activated his spider sense or whatever and I came to his dorm room to sleep after an exam because I was too tired to walk all the way to my place. Anyway, I walk in at the same time he’s coming back in through the window, and I swear we both sat there for a full two minutes before either of us could think of anything to say.”

“It’s still very nice of you to keep such a big secret for him,” Natasha praises, and your laughter quiets down as you take in her words.

“I guess I just know what it feels like to not want your life to change drastically because of one thing.” Your gaze shifts between the women for a moment. “That reminds me, I wanted to ask--”

“Wait, look at this!” Wanda quickly cuts you off with an enthusiastic grin. “You’re about to witness one of my favorite things about living here.”

She directs you to lean over and look at the streets as the sun finally disappears over the horizon, and you can’t help the small gasp that escapes you. Street lights begin turning on at what seems to be the center of the city and quickly spreading, increasing the radius of well-lit neighborhoods by the second. It was a mesmerizing sight that--until every lamp was on--nearly made you forget the question you were building toward.

“That was so cool!” you express honestly before clearing your throat awkwardly. “So I wanted to ask if the two of you were dating...or in a relationship or whatever. I mean, I don’t want to assume anything of course, just wondering because you share a room and floor, and you seem to be really into holding hands.”

“Well, I’d never really been into holding hands or a lot of other forms of affection before I met Wanda, but she seemed to flip some switch inside of me.” Natasha admitted with a bashful chuckle as she glanced at Wanda before turning to study you. “And your hands are so perfect to hold.”

“To answer your question, we are together.” Wanda rests a hand on your thigh and casts a sweet smile in your direction when you face her again. “Natasha was the first to give me a chance after everything with Ultron, and initially I thought I was just feeling grateful to receive some type of positive attention from someone other than Pietro. It wasn’t until Tash called me out on staring at her lips that I realized I wanted more than friendship.”

“The only reason I did was to confirm she was feeling the same things I’d finally come to terms with myself.” Natasha chuckles as Wanda sends over a bit of red mist to squeeze her own thigh. “What about you, love?”

“What about me?”

“Do you think you’re feeling more than friendship for Peter?”

“Oh no,” you quickly denied with a chuckle. “He’s the perfect example of a great boyfriend, but not my boyfriend. Plus I’d rather not have the same experience as MJ did.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, the ‘close friends to a relationship that ends with each person pretending the other doesn’t exist’ experience. I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, that does sound messy,” Natasha sighs as she subtly rests her hand on your other thigh. “So you’re not looking for a great boyfriend. What are you looking for then?”

“Nothing really, at least until I finish school, but having a girlfriend would be nice. I’d like to be with someone that respects me and can take care of themselves when I’m not around, because I tried the ‘caring for someone’ thing and it sucks when they don’t put in the same effort that you do.”

“Maybe you should try someone older, more mature,” Natasha suggests as she shifts to squeeze your knee lightly, and you start to feel a bit nervous about where she’s going with this. “Maybe two people that already have their shit together and would go to the ends of the earth to please you.”

“Okay, um…” You push both of their hands away with a bit of difficulty. “You both seem great and you’re incredibly attractive, but I’m not really interested.”

“Don’t worry about it, detka.” Natasha pushes your shoulder down as you try to get up, and Wanda cups your cheek with her hand.

“You may not be interested now…” She stands with Natasha and leans in to kiss your forehead, letting her lips linger on your skin as she continues. “But you will be.”

She pulls away and winks before lacing her fingers through Natasha’s as they leave the balcony, and you gasp in air as the tension they’d built seems to exit behind them. You finally decide to head back once you’ve taken a few minutes to catch your breath and calm your shaking limbs, but you wonder how long the calm will truly last.

-

You found yourself waking up suddenly and practically flying into a sitting position as if someone had pulled you up, but luckily the room is empty. You sit for a moment to catch your breath and survey your surroundings to assure you’re truly alone, and you notice your door is cracked right before you hear an unidentifiable sound.

“Fuck.”

Despite every fiber of your being screaming at you as one would do to a character in a horror film, you decide to climb out of bed to investigate what you were hearing, justifying your actions with the excuse of seeing if your floor-mates were in danger, as if you could save them. A few seconds after opening your door fully and peeking out made you realize that they were more than okay.

“Fuck! Right there, please don’t stop.”

“Such a dirty mouth, malyshka.”

You’re quick to return the door to its cracked position, leaning against the nearby wall with wide eyes as you attempt to process the image across the hall. The bedroom door sits wide open, giving you the chance to examine every inch of bare skin of the two women spread across the bed, Wanda resting on her arched back with her hands in Natasha’s red hair buried between her legs. Her moans seem to raise in volume, pitch and frequency as she’s brought closer and closer to the edge, and you ignore the warm feeling in your lower abdomen as you hurry back to bed and throw a pillow over your exposed ear.

-

“Good morning.”

Your free hand quickly shoots upward to catch your water glass as it slipped through your fingers in your moment of shock, and you try not to make a deal of hearing two sets of footsteps headed toward the kitchen.

“How’d you sleep last night? I know how scary it can be to rest your eyes in a new place.”

“I think I did pretty well,” you answer quietly as you step away from the fridge and lean against a section of the counter that faces out into the rest of the room. “The bed’s really nice.”

“You’re lying,” Wanda accuses as she crosses the room, eyes turning red and hands lifting toward your face.

“What are you--”

“Couldn’t sleep because of us, right?” She chuckles when you go limp under her touch, and Natasha ducks between the two of you to save your glass for the second time. “Did you enjoy hearing us that much?”

“You did sound really good,” you tell her with a drowsy smile as she pins you against the counter to keep you from falling.

“I bet you wish you were in my place, don’t you?” Her tone is light and teasing at first, becoming a bit stern as she shifts to push her thigh between your legs and you instantly roll your hips against the pressure. “Or maybe you want to taste me while Natasha fucks you?”

“No.”

“No?!” she fires back immediately, leaving a red mist around your temples as she grabs your waist with both hands to keep you grinding against her. “You mean you don’t want to cum right now?”

“Well, now that you mention it…”

A breathy moan escapes you as your eyes flutter closed, and if your head wasn’t being forcefully held in place, it would’ve tipped backward. You feel what must be Natasha’s fingertips grazing along your jaw and tracing a line down the side of your neck and toward your shoulder, repeating the gentle motion as goosebumps appeared all over the exposed skin.

“Is everyone decent?”

The fog behind your eyes seems to clear in seconds, and you blink in confusion when you open your eyes to see Natasha and Wanda making coffee nearby. You try to recall even coming into the kitchen, but everything from the moment you stepped into the bathroom to get ready is a blur, so you shake your head and reach for your glass of water on the counter as Natasha responds.

“Come in, Peter.”

“Morning, everyone,” Peter greets cheerfully as he enters the kitchen, his grin falling when his eyes land on you. “Are you okay?”

You open your mouth with the full intention of telling him that you are not okay, not when you were missing at least an hour of memory, and bits of last night were slipping away from you too. But before you could speak, a cold feeling seems to pass through the back of your skull to slip into your brain, and a switch flips.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you respond with a chuckle. “You worry too much, spiderling.”

“The world’s a stressful place,” he grumbles when you playfully ruffle his hair. “Anyway, are you ready to go soon?”

“Where are you headed?” Natasha quickly asks with a frown. “Y/N hasn’t even had breakfast yet.”

“We’re meeting Aunt May, so we’ll eat with her.”

“I just have to grab my bag,” you explain before heading down the hall to your temporary room, feeling the chilly sensation leaving you as you get further away from the kitchen, and it thankfully doesn’t return when you head back. “Ready.”

“Have fun!” Natasha calls as Peter heads for the elevator again, quickly grabbing your wrist once he’s out of sight. “See you tonight, printsessa.”

Her hand quickly shifts to grip the back of your neck as she leans in to kiss your cheek, and the two women are wearing sweet smiles as you turn away from them to catch up with Peter, attempting to shake the shell-shocked expression from your features.

“You sure you’re good?”

“I’m fine,” you insist as the doors close, in hopes that you really would be fine.

-

Meeting Peter’s aunt was much more of a pleasant experience than you expected, and it was obvious she adored you by the way she spoke to you, although part of you felt she was just happy Peter had more people around to love him. Your day was cut a bit short when MJ unexpectedly approached Peter, requesting to talk to him, and Aunt May offered to drive you back to the tower so you both could escape that awkward mess of a conversation.

“It was so great to meet you today,” you tell her with a grin as you take off your seatbelt.

“Likewise, honey. You have my number so just call me if you ever need anything, okay?”

She pulls you into a hug over the middle console and you thank her again for the ride as you get out of the car, trying not to seem too nervous when you notice Natasha and Wanda standing in the lobby. Your plan was to walk past them without speaking, but you should’ve known that wouldn’t work.

“Why was she hugging you?” Natasha asks coldly as you enter the building and you sigh.

“She was just saying goodbye--wait. Why am I explaining myself to you?”

You keep walking until they’re no longer in your peripheral, stopping abruptly as a red mist surrounds your legs, and your eye-rolling is cut short when Wanda appears in front of you and grabs your chin harshly.

“If Tash asks you a question, you answer.”

“Without attitude,” Natasha adds, which makes you want to roll your eyes again.

“Sorry, I didn’t get the rules handbook when I arrived. Can I go now?”

“You know what?” Wanda cuts off Natasha’s angry response with a smirk. “You can go.”

The red mist surrounding you disappeared, and despite the suspicious feeling that washed over you, you continued on toward the elevator with your head held high. You refused to let them get to you.

-

It was subtle at first. A slight tingling between your legs that you couldn’t seem to get rid of. In the very beginning, you were worried that something was wrong until you realized where the feeling was coming from when it turned into slow circles around your clit as you caught up with Peter in his room. By dinner, there was the added sensation of fingers curling inside you at a steady pace, and you hoped no one would notice your hips slightly bucking under the table as you attempted to repeatedly chase a release that never came.

A movie follows dinner today, and you make sure to cover yourself with a large blanket because you were still being edged and you couldn’t stop moving at this point. You even try to slide your hand into your sweatpants to finish the job yourself, and your jaw clenches in anger every time your fingers lock up because you know who’s responsible.

“Okay, you win!” you announce as you walk into the kitchen on Natasha and Wanda’s private floor, not missing the look shared between the two women. “I’m sorry I was rude earlier. Can you please just stop teasing me?”

“How about we help you finish instead?”

You should decline. You should just say ‘no’ because letting them finish you off tonight will turn into an attachment that you know you don’t want, nor are you ready for. Inviting them in will be equivalent to selling your soul, and you’re not sure you want to put a price on it. But the ache below your stomach is persistent, and if they won’t let you touch yourself, someone has to do it.

“Fine.”

“Don’t be so grumpy about it,” Wanda teases as she grabs your hand and starts leading you toward their bedroom. “I promise you won’t regret it.”

She pushes you back onto the surprisingly large bed as soon as you’re close enough, instructing you to take off your shirt and bra while she watches. Once your top half is completely exposed, she leans forward to run her hands from your shoulders down toward your nipples, circling them with her thumbs until they harden.

“I don’t like being teased.”

“Oh, you don’t?” she asks in a mocking tone as she reaches for the band of your sweatpants and pulls them down, placing her palm over the wet spot in your panties. “Then what’s this?”

“Please,” you beg through a quiet moan, bucking your hips again when she presses her thumb against your clit through the fabric. “Please just fuck me already.”

“Patience, detka.”

You watch with wide eyes as Natasha and Wanda both strip away their own sweatpants, revealing the toys tied to their legs. Natasha goes to untie hers while Wanda uses her powers to rip away your ruined panties in one fluid motion.

“There she is.”

Natasha puts her hand on Wanda’s back and forces her to bend over, and you bite your lip as her eyes flutter closed and mouth falls open while Natasha thrusts into her. You’re just about to grab Wanda’s hand to lead her where you want, when her eyes open suddenly with a glowing red surrounding her pupils, and your wrists are bound together over your head by an invisible force.

“Did you forget who’s in charge here?”

“Don’t get too cocky, malyshka,” Natasha reminds her as she grabs a fistful of her hair and slams into her, causing Wanda to moan and giggle at the same time.

“My apologies, Tash.”

You couldn’t help your sigh of relief as Wanda finally slid two fingers inside of you, her thrusts deepening each time as Natasha fucked her toward you with her hands on her hips. The sounds coming from your mouth and between your legs were embarrassingly loud, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as she brought you closer and closer to the edge, until a loud whine escaped you as she removed her fingers and delivered a slap to your glistening folds.

“Tell me who this belongs to,” she orders through her own moans, holding you down when you begin grinding into her hand. “I’m gonna cum regardless of what you do, so you’d better answer. Be a good girl like I know you can.”

“Yours!” you cry out finally, sighing when Natasha leans into your line of sight with a brow raised. “It’s yours and Natasha’s.”

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

She slips back into you without warning, and your back arches off the bed as she finally brings you to orgasm. She continues to thrust into you as you whine and squirm away, luckily slowing down and finally stopping as Natasha makes her cum a minute later, leaving the strap inside of her as they both catch their breath. Wanda pulls out of you and sits up to lean against her, holding her hand up between them as they both clean your cum off her fingers with their tongues, and you sit there clenching around nothing as you watch.

“You seem tired,” Natasha comments as her eyes land on you again.

“Too bad we’re not done.”

Wanda flips you onto your stomach with a quick motion of her fingers, using her hands to pull you by the waist until you’re on your knees at the edge of the bed, and she holds one side of your waist as she delivers a slap to your ass this time. Her touch lingers as she pulls away to free her own strap, and you nearly fall over when you feel the tip of the toy rub against your clit.

“Wait, let me fuck her this time.”

You hear their soft laughter as they switch places, sharing a kiss in the process, and you gasp when a hand wraps around your neck and pulls you up against Natasha’s chest.

“I like having you this close to me, printsessa,” she whispers in your ear, chuckling when you melt against her as she pushes the tip of her strap into you. “How many times do you think I can get you to cum?”

Her grip on your throat is loose as she allows you to adjust to the size, tightening suddenly when she slams into you once, twice, until every thrust is at a rough pace that you wouldn’t be able to handle if she wasn’t holding you against her by the waist. You feel that same tingling circling your clit again, occasionally traveling upward to tease your nipples as well, and it wasn’t long before you were releasing a strangled scream as you climaxed.

Natasha eventually stops thrusting into you as your legs shake, and you breathe out another sigh of relief when she allows you to fall onto the mattress. However, the relief is short-lived when you realize that she only paused to let Wanda push into her from behind, and it wasn’t long before the two of them found a rhythm that was pleasing them and ruining you.

Your wrists are freed as Natasha pulls out of you some minutes later, and you collapse onto one side of the bed with your body aching a bit from a third orgasm, your eyes only halfway open as you watch the pair. They remove the straps from their waists and set them aside, and you become a bit more alert when you notice Natasha grab what seems to be a double-ended dildo.

“No more. I can’t,” you mumble tiredly as your wrists are bound by Wanda’s power again.

“One more, and you can,” she tells you as she flops onto the bed beside you, and that red mist surrounds her fingers again as she guides you onto your knees to hover above her face. “You wanted to cum, so you don’t get to run from this.”

Her hands grab your waist and pull you closer, and you release a shuddering moan as her tongue runs past your hole and over your clit, teasing it a few times with the tip of her tongue before diving in to wrap her lips around it. She alternates between sucking your clit and slipping inside you as Natasha climbs on the bed behind you to position herself with the new toy. 

“Fuck,” Wanda attempts to say once Natasha begins thrusting, and you fall forward as the vibration of her moans become too much, whining when Natasha slides her hands over your breasts and pulls you back up again.

“Take it all like a good girl.”

She keeps pulling until your head drops against her, and she moans against your neck while she kisses and sucks on your skin, bouncing faster on Wanda who groans loudly in response as she attempts to match each thrust. The hums of her voice has you grinding against her tongue, and you yelp when Natasha bites down just as Wanda brings you over the edge. She keeps going despite your protests, managing to get you to cum once more before they finally do.

You lie there with your bones feeling like jelly as you’re covered with a blanket minutes after everyone’s bathroom trip, too tired to even fight for sleeping in your own bed as Natasha and Wanda slide in on either side of you.

“You did so well tonight, detka,” Wanda praises as she strokes your cheek with a loving stare. “I can tell you’ll be a great addition to our relationship. I knew it from the moment I saw you.”

“I’m not doing this again,” you insist as the smile fades from her expression. “I’m not getting in a relationship with two women that don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, and I’d prefer sleeping in my own bed.”

“You’re already in a relationship with us, printsessa,” Natasha growls as she shoves you back down when you try to get up, and you push her hand away.

“There’s nothing you can say that’ll make me want to be with you.”

“It’s not about what you want to do. It’s about what you have to do.” She grabs your phone from the nightstand, and you’re somehow not even surprised when she unlocks it on the first try. “Because it’d be a shame if someone was to tell Peter about all the nudes you have of him.”

You snatch the phone from her grip, eyes widening as you scroll through your camera roll, finding naked pictures of Peter scattered throughout it. You check the date on the oldest one and began to feel nauseous when you saw it was taken not even a month after the two of you met.

“Don’t think you’ll be deleting those either, because we can replace them and make things worse.” Her smile was falsely sweet and troubling as she grabbed your chin to force you to make eye contact. “We’ve gone this long without having you, and we’ll do whatever it takes not to lose you.”

-

Tags: @cordeliaswhore @egotisticalstoner @muralskins @natasha-danvers @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @madamevirgo @teenwonder @honeyvenable @slut-for-nat

[bottoms-movie]

SAMBUCKY FIC RECS

so a lot of people seemed interested this so here it is! if ya’ll like this, i can make more parts! this is split into three categories: based on tfatws, canon divergence, and au. all fics are on ao3. all of the fics are complete. some fics do include smut, but i included the ratings, so make sure to check for that based on preferences!

also, feel free to send me asks on your thoughts on any fics or if you’re interested in another sambucky fic rec post!

BASED ON TFATWS

Fill the Hole in my Heart | Not Rated | 4,848 words

Bucky dives into the world of online dating. The girls are nice, but there seems to be something missing. When he goes to Louisiana to meet Sam and his family, he realizes what that something was.

Skip, Reverse | Explicit | 7,945 words

Sam stood in the middle of their local Target with a throw pillow in each hand. The one in his left hand was butter-soft and matched the drapes in the living room, but Bucky had walked by five seconds ago and declared the one on the right “absolutely fucking hideous,” and so now Sam kind of wanted it more than he had ever wanted anything.

Sometimes romance is just bickering with your superhero partner/roommate at several different Target locations.

just won’t do right | General | 7,524 words

Sam's eyebrows go up, impressed, and he reaches over to squeeze Torres' shoulder, "This is amazing, kid. Thanks, really."

Bucky sits and watches in utter horror as the pink darkens on Torres' cheeks.

Oh, he realizes. Oh. Fuck.

body language will do the trick | Explicit | 12,598 words

“There’s no way you’re going to win this,” Bucky tells Sam. “I am going to love language the shit out of you.”

Sam gives him a considering look. “You do seem like you’d be really good at that.”

Bucky’s cheeks flush with heat. “Thanks, pal, I—”

Sam smirks, and Bucky’s eyes narrow. He shoves his elbow into Sam’s side and stalks off, leaving Sam cackling behind him.

“Your ass looks great today!” Sam yells.

Bucky reaches up to flip Sam the bird, and he definitely does not feel grateful that he wore his good jeans today. Bucky’s ass looks great every day.

checklist | General | 4,716 words

Bucky Barnes keeps a mental checklist of things he knows to be true at any given moment. Sometimes the checklist changes, because he's learned something else about himself. It changes, for example, when he starts realizing that maybe he would like to kiss Sam Wilson. Maybe.

best laid plans | 3 parts | 26,808 words

part 1: baby you’re the wave and I’m ready for the crash | Explicit | 6,616 words

Nah, my plan’s better,” Sam declares, before clapping Bucky on the shoulder.

“I’m sorry, what plan? Was that a plan? It didn’t sound like a plan to me, it sounded like a vague intention,” says Bucky, still scowling, and Sam grins.

“We’re winging it, the plan is a work in progress! Now c’mon, we gotta make some wardrobe adjustments if we’re gonna get into that club.”

Sam and Bucky have some unorthodox methods of going undercover in a club.

He Doesn’t Deserve You! | Teen | 5,154 words

Sam and Bucky have an argument that results in Bucky being left at the bar. A group of drunk strangers assumes Bucky just got dumped and quickly adopt him for the night to make him feel better.

Reconstitution | Not Rated | 10,228 words

“I didn’t back Steve on the Sokovia Accords,” Sam says unprompted one day. They’re so close to apprehending the Flagsmashers and wrapping up this ridiculous saga.

“I don’t follow,” Bucky says.

“I was the one who refused to sign it first. Not Steve.”

Sam says it so softly that Bucky has to strain to hear him. Sam is loud and chatty and half the time he keeps up a constant stream of chatter just to get on Bucky’s nerves, but Bucky’s coming to realize that when he really wants to make himself heard, he’s soft spoken and mild. Bucky doesn’t entirely follow his train of thought, though.

Or: a breaking down, remaking, and coming back stronger than ever before

Stuck On You (You Suez, You Luez) | Explicit | 10,136 words

Sam and Bucky’s mission was simple: stowaway on a ship suspected of weapons-smuggling in the Suez, gather enough intel to report back, and hop off again in Port Said. Something gets in the way, and a day-long recon session turns into a week of chess, bickering, semi-successful movie references, and trying not to go slowly insane.

His Touch | Mature | 1,006 words

When Baron Zemo touched Bucky’s face, Sam Wilson saw red.

Bucky just wants Sam to comfort him.

rusted | Teen | 2,358 words

Bucky doesn’t grace him with a sound of acknowledgement. He’s been quiet, ever since that night with Zemo. Well. Quieter. It’s almost like. Every time he opens his mouth, he’s half-expecting the Winter Soldier to come out.

He hasn’t, yet. Won’t, ever again. Not unbidden. Sam’s sure of that. Bucky, not so much.

‘You busy?’

‘’m scouring the—’

‘Good,’ Sam cuts the idiot off, ‘I need you to help me shave.’

advanced therapy methods for large adult men | 2 parts | 11,717 words

part 1: The Gottman Method for Dealing with Conflict | Mature | 4,187 words

Bucky and Dr. Raynor have a follow-up session and two entirely different conversations about his relationship status.

Or: Let's do more couples therapy, James.

it’s always Bucky’s Fault | 3 parts | 20,089 words

part 1: Did you see it? | Explicit | 3,905 words

In which there's supposedly a viral video of the Winter Soldier on his knees sucking off Captain America.

Everything is, like always, completely Bucky's fault.

CANON DIVERGENCE

Even in the Present (I Am Living in the Past) | Teen | 16,977 words

Sometimes Sam still questions everything about his ability to shoulder the 80-year legacy he now bears. His history, and the history of his loss, sticks with him and even in healing he doubts whether or not he is able to fulfil his purpose, and whether he may find lasting peace and happiness.

Told in fluid-fragments, the story moves between his therapy sessions after his return from active duty and the post-Endgame present.

You never forget your first | Teen | 3,650 words

The story of Bucky and Sam getting together in a series of firsts.

leftovers | Mature | 19,249 words

With the New Avengers up and running, Sam finally has time to start dating again. Unfortunately, it's not going as well as he'd hoped.

Partners | Explicit | 7,235 words

Sam's not sure if he can be Captain America. He's not a supersoldier. He can't throw the shield. He's just a dude.

And Bucky Barnes is just a nuisance, albeit a pretty good-looking one.

I’ll explain everything to the geese | Explicit | 50,949 words

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Night Swimming | Teen | 2,056 words

“Come on. The princess has a new arm for you and I gotta see if there’s a barber around here willing to tackle your…” Sam waved a hand at Bucky’s face.

“I don’t want a new arm,” Bucky immediately bit out.

And then -

“I can cut my own damn hair.”

Sam just raised both eyebrows. Crossed his arms over his chest again.

Dared Bucky to prove him wrong.

AU

Cpvert Coffee & Flirtation Specialist | General | 5,542 words

The reporter says "—for Captain America to—"

And Bucky rolls his eyes. "Oh, here we go."

Sam looks at him then tips his head sideways, got a weird grin on his face. "Not a fan?"

"Not that. Just… the guy seems too good to be true, right? Wings and a shield?? Come on."

"Uh, is that why your eyes are like glued to the screen whenever he's on?" Kate says. "Is that why you call him Captain Tight Ass?"

"He's a goddamn show-off, and you know it. Tight ass or not."

Just then Sam snorts, real loud, grabs his coffee and suffers a horribly controlled laugh on his way out the door.

Stolen Moments | Teen | 98,767 words

“No,” Sam said, chuckling. “I don’t cheat,” he swept his gaze up and down James’ body, “even with guys who look like you. But, I’m bored and a little pissed, so if you wanna sit here and shoot the shit ‘til my man shows back up, I’m game.”

Never one to back to back down from a challenge - especially a challenge who looked like Sam Wilson - Bucky took another swig from his bottle and replied, “Sure, doll. I’ve got nothing but time.”

Steve has Sam. Bucky wants Sam. Sam wasn’t expecting any of this.

Such a Whirlwind Since I Saw You | Teen | 10,871 words

The Men of Letters turned Bucky Barnes into a weapon. Hunters Steve Rogers and Natasha Romanov are determined to save him, but they're going to need Sam Wilson's help.

“So you want me to ditch work, drive across America with you until you find your friend, who you thought was dead - all while avoiding some high-tech hunters who are out for blood?” Sam is asking.

Steve shrugs a shoulder, looking a little sheepish. Natasha almost laughs at the dry tone of Sam’s voice, but he's not wrong.

You Got What I Need? | Explicit | 37,588 words

Sam and Bucky are both in a bind, professionally. Nat points out a solution that neither men like. To save their careers they play along or rather, stop playing all together.

[the-devil-hunter63]

GUYS

GUYS

GUYS

I had a terrible idea that almost made me cry and now I'm gonna break your hearts as well!!

What if part of the reason Heinsenberg is so hellbent on killing Miranda is because, not only did she ruin his life, but because she took his S/O? Like hear me out on this ...

▪︎WARNING: MENTION OF DEATH AND POSSIBLE SPOILERS▪︎

So Heisenberg and his S/O obviously met because Mother Miranda. S/O was part of a group that were outsiders staying in the village inn while traveling.

Anyways, Heinsenberg and his S/O are inseparable now. He takes them with him everywhere, family meetings included. They are his world. His everything. And everyone knows it.

Everyone has seen him rip Lycans apart with his bare hands, smash others into a paste, and turn people into pin cushions with various metal objects, all in the name of protecting his S/O.

Mother Miranda doesn't like that Heisenberg has softened in certain aspects. She also doesn't like that he puts his S/O before her plan.

How DARE he put some lowly human before her darling Eva!

So she waits. She waits until Heinsenberg fucks up. Fucks up so bad his S/O is left by themselves.

She is also lowkey jealous asf because why should anyone be allowed to be happy when she can't be happy with her Daughter. It's not fair.

So when Heinsenberg voices his opinion on something and actively goes against Miranda, that is the final straw. She is tired of his rebellious attitude. Good children listen to their mothers.

His S/O has actively warned him about acting up. Warning him that his actions have consequences. But he rarely listens. Nothing will ever harm his S/O while he's around.

Honestly, his ego is hard to get past and thats what costs him his world.

So when his S/O goes out to the village to get things for that nights dinner Miranda strikes. She snatches them and takes them to her secret laboratory. (Where chris finds Mia)

When they don't return as the sun starts to set, Heisenberg starts to panic. He just knows something happened. The sudden sinking feeling and pit forming in his stomach fully cements the dread.

All the metal near him starts to vibrate and swirl violently. And it wasn't until he starts to leave the factory does he run into Miranda.

His S/O is slung over her shoulder and her face is cold and cruel. She glares at him and throws his S/O at his feet as if they were mere trash.

"Remember boy, I am your mother. Your loyalties lie with me and me alone." And with that she turns into a bird and flys away.

Heisenberg would drop to his knees with a heavy thud as their body VIOLENTLY convulsed and they're foaming at the mouth. They're body is littered with cuts and bruises and what looks like an half assed implanted Cadou.

"No no no no no no no no!!! That fucking bitch...she can't...i-i...I'm gonna save you kitten/babe/princess/prince/sunshine"

His S/O's last words are something like "this isn't your fault...I love you" or they try to hold a conversation as this man is violently sobbing. Their voice is slowly fading with each word.

They'll cup his face and smile one last time as the convulsions start again, this time way more violent as their body is rejected by the Cadou.

If his S/O is male, they start to shift into a Lycan and he ultimately has to bring himself to kill them with his own hands to save them the horror of being a mindless beast lead by bloodlust.

If his S/O is female, he watches the light leave they're eyes as they cry tears of blood as the Cadou ultimately mangles their body.

Either way, this man is destroyed both mentally and emotionally. Not only was his free will and life taken away from him, now his lover died in his arms.

Heinsenberg will tell himself it's his fault and whisper broken apologies between broken sobs and hiccups as he rocks back and forth with their body.

His pained howls will be heard far and wide. The lycans, and Urias, will howl out with their master at the loss of his mate.

They'll get a grave at they're favorite spot. It's under a lone tree behind the factory with an elegant metal statue made in they're likeness.

Heisenberg will visit it everyday for hours. He talks to the statue. Tells them about whats going on with the lords and updates them on his plan to slowly kill that bitch Miranda.

There are times he'll visit the grave and there are flowers or even other trinkets that represents the other lords sneaking or even the lycans leaving random things there.

His Lycans, mainly Urais, have found him asleep under that tree one too many times. Hell, even some of the lycans sleep under it. Even if they're mindless beasts, they still knew that they're masters mate was a gentle soul that even they liked to have around.

So after the fight with Ethan when Heinsenberg dies, Ethan stumbles upon the grave and understands right away. He may not understand what his S/O saw in him but he will put something of Heinsenberg next to the statue.

When Ethan turns his back he will hear Heinsenberg's laugh accompanied by another one and will feel two hands pushing him forward with a gentle "bring that bitch down and save Rose."

[violettelueur]

— FUSHIGURO MEGUMI + GOJO SATORU || S/O THAT HATES KIDS BUT IS MOTHERLY

↳ featuring : fusiguro megumi + gojo satoru from jujutsu kaisen

↳ warnings : grammar issues

↳ form : headcanons

↳ published : 14 march

↳ pronouns : she/her

↳ request : hiii could u do headcanons for gojo & fushiguro with a s/o who openly talks about how she dislikes children but the moment she’s put in the same room as one she acts all motherly & children absolutely love her? thank you ☺️☺️

↳ barista’s notes : hello everyone~ so i just finished watching the recent episode of Penthouse : war in life season 2 (it’s a kdrama) and i am pissed and angry at so many characters...like everyone on that shows is just a whole mess ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ but moving on from that, i hope you enjoy your cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and order a coffee again when we open ʕ •ᴥ•ʔゝ☆

Fushiguro is someone that is neutral about children in my opinion like he doesn’t hate them but he doesn’t have baby fever, you know?

So when you inform him that you didn’t like children, he will be a little surprised but is completely understanding.

So when you and him were babysitting a sorcerer’s toddler, for the time being, he was sort of worried that you weren’t going to take it really lightly...but he was so wrong.

In the beginning, you did sigh since you weren’t really looking forward to the whole chore but that didn’t mean you were going to be like that for the whole time being.

Fushiguro is really shocked when you would play with the toddler like it was your own like sometimes you would twirl around while saying “whee, whee” with the child in your arms since it giggled when you did - it helped it stop crying when it was about to.

When he would try to take the toddler away from you since he knew your arms were tried, you would slowly back away at first before handing him the child with some hesitation.

There would be times when you would read to the child with the books that the sorcerer has given you and he’s really surprised at how patient you are since the toddler would immediately flip the page before you finished reading it or it would keep open to one page to admire the animal drawings.

The way you would look at the child and smile at it causes Fushiguro to really question if you really disliked children - because your actions say otherwise...like completely.

When it’s time for the child to take a nap, you and the child would be sleeping on his bed and it’s holding onto your fingers to keep you anchored - Fushiguro has like 1000 pictures of it (rip phone storage).

When it’s time for the baby to go back to the parent, you’re sad since the day felt so quick but when the parent turns back and walks away you would wave at it and the toddler will cutely wave at you back.

“You say you don’t like children, but you seem to actually do,”

“What are you talking about?”

Okay, now Fushiguro is really confused.

I have no idea what Gojo’s view on children will be - he probably is at first “ew kids” before taking a second to think about it and say “if it’s with you then I don’t mind”

But you respond with, “ha good luck with that, I don’t even like children”

Overall, Gojo finds the whole situation quite funny since he doesn’t really care about if you like children or not - you both are quite busy as people/sorcerers, so you both wouldn’t have the time.

However, when you and Gojo are at a dessert place and you see a child wanting something but the mother can’t afford it, you just walk towards them and ask if you could pay for what they both want.

Of course, the mother would reject but you would just crouch down and ask the child anyways because you know they can’t resist the small cake on the display.

Gojo is really surprised since you turned really soft-spoken - since you literally yell at him 24/7 when he is annoying - and you also have a gentle smile on your face, like the one where a mother looks at their child.

You would also point at a lot of the dessert at the display with an excited expression and the child would do the same since you want the mother and child to enjoy their day without any difficulty - kind of like “Wah look at that cake, isn’t it pretty?” “How about this ice cream, you can even make it look like a bear!”

Once your order what the family wanted, the family will obviously thank you since the mother was really struggling since she had just bought groceries for the week.

The child will thank you with a big smile to which you would reciprocate back since it’s nice to see the child happy once again - Gojo is still in a trace by the way.

Gojo is really quick to think of many scenarios with you and him as a family since this little act of kindness makes him realise that you really do care for kids - but he will tease you for it.

“So~ you said you don’t like kids but how about we start a family aye~”

“No way, if they’re your kids, they’ll be so irritating”

“But you love them anyway~”

© violettelueur 2021 : written and published by violettelueur - do not steal or repost

[valdomarx]

“Geralt. My dearest friend. My closest companion. Light of my life, fire of my-”

Geralt narrows his eyes. “What do you want, Jaskier?”

“Seeing as how I’ve made you famous, and I flatter myself that this has eased you path somewhat, why, this very inn not only took us in but even offered us a discounted rate-”

“What do you want, Jaskier?” Testier this time.

“Ahh. Well. Let me put it plainly: I’m in need of a favour.”

Geralt raises one eyebrow, in an expression he knows speaks volumes.

“I need you to come with me to Lettenhove this winter and pose as my fiancé.”

Geralt nearly drops the sword he’s sharpening. A million thoughts whip through his mind, but one is most pressing: “Why, for Melitele’s sake?”

Jaskier waves a hand in a vague and non-descriptive gesture. “It’s a court thing, you know how families are, and my mother has made it abundantly clear that it’s time for me to settle down and this year I’m to return affianced or else she’ll select someone for me. And I can’t get hitched to some local lady, Geralt, I simply can’t, it’ll ruin my bardic appeal, not to mention my employment prospects, and of course I won’t be able to travel with you, and it’s-”

Geralt holds up a hand to ward off the wall of words. The idea of no longer travelling with Jaskier is unconscionable, not that he’d ever admit that out loud. And they spend so much time together they’re practically married anyway. How hard could it be to pretend for a few days?

“Fine,” he says gruffly.

“Oh, Geralt, you are wonderful.” Jaskier beams and throws his arms around Geralt’s neck. Geralt growls, but secretly, it’s actually rather nice.

-

“Mother, this is Geralt, my fiancé.”

Cold, clear eyes look him up and down, assessing him, and pinch into an expression suggesting he has been found wanting. Geralt decides against opening his mouth and further cementing that opinion.

“A witcher.” Her voice has the familiar twang of Jaskier’s, but with the flat, expressionless cadence he associates with the higher echelons of the aristocracy.

“A witcher!” Jaskier confirms in a cheery tone. “Isn’t that exciting?”

She sniffs in a manner which makes it clear that exciting would not be her first choice of word. “I see. He will be joining us for this year’s Yuletide?”

“He will.”

Her face draws back into the impassive mask of the well-bred. “Very well. You will stay in the east wing.”

“Thank you, mother.” Jaskier executes a stiff bow which Geralt copies and they beat a hasty retreat.

-

“That went rather well!”

Geralt blinks. “Jaskier, I’m fairly sure your mother means to have me killed in my sleep.”

“Oh, don’t mind her. She’s always like that. She’s actually softened up a lot since dear old dad died, gods rest the grumpy bastard.”

Geralt struggles to imagine how such staid, cold people could possibly have produced a son as bright and warm as Jaskier. They might as well be a different species.

Jaskier pushes open a door to a grand suite, all plush velvets and gold ornamentation, a thick woven rug underfoot. It’s the most opulent room Geralt has ever seen, but Jaskier pays it no mind and throws his bag casually on the bed.

“We’ll have to stay here together,” he says apologetically, not looking Geralt in the eye. “But the bed is plenty big, or I can sleep on the sofa if you’d rather -”

Geralt is still taking it all in: The space, the furnishings, the frankly enormous bed which looks divinely comfortable. And there, through the next room, that looks like-

“Is that a copper bathtub?” he asks, eyes wide. Such luxuries were a rarity indeed.

Jaskier grinned. “It is. Let me get some food sent up and I’ll wash your hair?”

Geralt grumbles, just for the effect, and decides that putting up with tedious aristocracy might have its benefits after all.

-

Yule festivities in Lettenhove are, mercifully, a mere matter of days. First there is the fitting for formal attire, which Geralt scowls through but Jaskier promises will be made up for with plenty of good food and wine. Then there are several deeply tedious aristocratic parties, which Jaskier sails through and Geralt spends mostly hiding in dark corners, as is his wont.

Occasionally, Jaskier will grab him by the hand and introduce him as, “Geralt, my husband-to-be,” and something funny will flip over in his stomach which will require several drinks to settle. When he returns to his dark corner he’ll find his heart pumping a little faster as his eyes track Jaskier flitting around the room. It’s probably just indigestion from all the rich food.

Then there is the formal family Yuletide dinner, a spectacularly awkward and singly unpleasant evening spent around a long, cold table with Jaskier’s mother and various cousins, who regard Geralt with expressions ranging from bland disinterest to active hostility. The food is heavy beyond measure and the conversation cruel and bland by turns.

They cover the need for raising taxes, the many failings of the servant class, and the petty squabbles over jewels and titles that seems to be the bread and butter of these people. With each hateful line, Geralt feels his blood rising. If it weren’t for Jaskier making pleading eyes at him, he’d take great pleasure in explaining some hard truths to them.

When a cousin begins expounding on useless lazy peasants in the estate, complaining that they can’t work because of plague, but we all know they’re simply idle, Geralt grits his teeth so hard that he swears the sound must be audible.

Beneath the table, Jaskier takes his hand and gives it a gentle squeeze. Staring down at their joined hands, Geralt detaches from these awful people and their awful conversation and focuses on the simple warmth of Jaskier’s fingers intertwined with his own.

-

They make their escape from dinner as soon as can be considered polite, and Geralt takes a second to lean against the door to their room, breathing deeply.

“You did well not to throttle anyone,” Jaskier says with a reassuring smile. “If we’d had to listen to cousin Edrick for a minute longer, I might have launched over the table with a carving knife myself.”

Geralt reaches for him without thinking, and once again Jaskier’s hand slips into his own. It’s grounding, to feel something genuine in this place surrounded by artifice.

“Come on,” Jaskier says. “Let’s get out of here.”

Geralt doesn’t even ask where they’re going before nodding.

-

They sneak away from the estate out of the servants’ door and follow a winding path toward a cluster of lights in the valley below. The path into Lettenhove town is quiet and calm, and as they walk the snow begins to fall in soft flurries, covering the ground in a peaceful white blanket.

The town looks picture perfect when they arrive, a charming jumble of thatched cottages and a small, cosy inn from which bright light spills out into the snowy night. When they enter the barmaid runs over to hug Jaskier and the proprietor slaps him on the back, and Jaskier has a kind word and a waved greeting for every person in there.

Geralt feels something unwind in his chest, something he hadn’t realised was tight and twisted until now. Seeing Jaskier in his element, among people who love him for who he is, instead of among that cold, hateful family, he feels right in a way he hasn’t for days.

Jaskier is already buying drinks and passing them around, and he excitedly waves Geralt over. “Bree, Geoffrey,” he addresses the couple behind the bar, “This is Geralt.” A shy smile sneaks over his face. “My fiancé.” The couple gasp in delight and congratulate Jaskier, then they’re embracing Geralt like old friends and pushing a drink into his hands.

“Come on, Geralt, join us!” Bree smiles warmly. “It’ll be the ten o’clock bells soon, and we must have Jaskier lead us in a song.”

The evening is a whirl of music and dance and loud, terrible singing, which the entire town seems to join in. For once there is no corner for Geralt to hide in, so he stays by Jaskier’s side, basking in the reflected glow of these people’s clear adoration of his bard.

-

When the midnight bell chimes and Geoffrey turns them all out for the night, the revelers wend their way home still singing and drinking. As the place empties out, Jaskier slides over to Bree to press a kiss to her cheek and a bulging purse into her hand. She tries to wave him off but Jaskier tucks the money behind the counter all the same, and Geralt watches, a deep wave of fondness sweeping through him.

The snow is still falling when they step out into the now-quiet street, soft, fat flakes drifting lazily from the sky and sticking in Jaskier’s hair. His cheeks are flushed pink and his hair falls in an messy sweep over his eyes; without thinking Geralt reaches out to brush it away behind his ear. Jaskier’s blush deepens as he does so, but he shivers in the cold.

“Here.” Geralt unclasps the thick cloak from around his neck and sweeps it over Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier’s mouth forms a little o of surprise and he looks up at Geralt, something tender in his eyes.

Geralt’s gaze is caught by the snow flakes settling on Jaskier’s lashes; he’s so focused that he almost jumps when Jaskier reaches out to take his hand. The sky seems to glow with a soft orange light as the clouds reflect the last few fires in the town below; everything is warm with Jaskier’s hand in his despite the chill in the air.

“Thank you,” Jaskier says softly. “For being here with me.” And leaning in, his breath caressing over Geralt’s face, he touches his lips to Geralt’s cheek in a ghost of a kiss.

Suddenly it occurs to Geralt that this will be it, tomorrow they’ll head back on the path like none of this ever happened, no more holding hands or being close, no more being introduced as Jaskier’s betrothed. And despite the hellish parts of this experience he really doesn’t want it to end. He likes being Jaskier’s person, and he likes Jaskier being his.

They are still standing close together, mere inches between them, and it’s no effort at all to lean in, slowly, cautiously, to find Jaskier’s lips with his own, to place a tentative kiss there. And then Jaskier’s hands are fisting in his shirt and tugging him closer still, and his arms go around his waist and Jaskier is kissing him back like he’s been waiting for it, their mouths slotting together like they were made to fit each other, and everything is blazingly bright like the white of the snow.

When they pull apart they stay with foreheads pressed together, breathing the same air, and Geralt can see a smile cracking wide over Jaskier’s face.

“I like being engaged to you,” Geralt says quietly, unable to keep it in.

Jaskier’s smile widens even further. “I like being engaged to you too,” he says. He kisses him again. “Fiancé.” Another kiss. “Husband to be.” And another. “Partner.” One more. “Beloved.”

“I like the sound of those.” He suspects he may be wearing the same dopey grin as Jaskier is.

“Then let’s make it official.” Jaskier bites his lip. “Marry me?”

Jaskier is a picture of perfection, eyes gleaming and cheeks ruddy, snowflakes in his hair. Geralt’s heart has always been right here.

“I’d be honoured.” He considers for a second. “But not in Lettenhove.”

Jaskier’s laugh sparkles with joy. “Anywhere but here.”

[mountswhore]

𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 — mason mount

if you guys have any requests, just ask and you shall receive ! <3

aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Mason knows you enjoy your time to breathe, and relax after god knows how long of fun. He presses a small kiss to your cheek, thanks you, and helps you put your clothes back on. You’d be on the balcony of his bedroom, letting the wind hit your face, feeling a pair of arms wrap around you and a drink of water appear in front of you. Mason always takes the best care of you, by letting you relax and softly assisting you in whatever you needed.

body part (Their favorite body part of theirs and also their partners)

Mason feels as if it’s a bit shallow to have a favourite body part, but if he had to choose, it’d he his arms. He knows you love them, so he loves them too. They hold you down during sex, wrap around your body with ease, making you drool as the veins appear. You get a great view of them holding your legs as he goes down on you.

If he could choose everything about you, he would. But his absolute favourite body part would be your lips. He’d watch you talk to him about whatever, and see how they curve, how bite-able they were. Seeing them wrapped around his cock does a number on him, it’s a sight he wish he could see at any point of the day.

cum (Anything to do with cum, basically)

Mason knows you enjoy it when he cums inside you, but he loves seeing it all over your face. Seeing those pretty lips at work, then minutes later covered in his cum. What a sight. Or in your mouth. It’s pleasure within itself to watch your eyes roll to the back of your head, as he fills your mouth up and forces you to swallow.

dirty secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Mason is dominant as fuck. He loves the whole ‘daddy’ thing, it really gets him going. Just seeing you so soft and innocent underneath him was a sight for sore eyes. It wasn’t an every-time-you-have-sex thing, more of a long-awaited session thing. There are times Mason wants to be soft with you, but this is what turns him on the most.

experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

You and Mason met when you were pretty young and inexperienced, which made an awkward first time. But now you look back on it and laugh, because Mason knows exactly how to get you there, and you know how to get him there too.

favourite position (This goes without saying)

During one of your rougher sessions, he’d prefer doggy all the way. It’s the perfect position to hit the spot for you and him. And the view is incredible. But in general, you being on top is his favourite. He gets to see it all, and doesn’t have to move his head. He can see your boobs bouncing as you ride him, your face contort as you moan from the pleasure, and the feeling was immaculate.

goofy (Are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

When you’d both been on a night out, getting home and all over each other, it’d be a lot of giggly sex. Mason tripping on his trouser leg as he tried to walk and take them off, it was hilarious to drunk you. But you’d be hushed very quickly as his lips met back with yours, pushing you onto the bed before the pair of you were laughing again.

But in moments of missing him for a few weeks at a time, or if Mason is sexually frustrated from being on a sex ban because of football, he’s stone cold. He wants you, he needs you. And you let him. He gets down to business immediately and knows exactly what he’s doing, he wants to hear you moan and feel you around him.

hair (How well-groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Mason likes to keep it clean, not hairless, but trimmed. To you, it didn’t matter. But for him, it’s his personal preference.

intimacy (How are they during the moment? The romantic aspect.)

Making you feel good, getting you to your high, that was all that mattered to Mason. He knows you like to be wooed, not just get straight into it. So he always rubs you down gently, his fingers gently drifting to places he couldn’t wait to get to. All while telling you how beautiful you were, how much he loved you. Kissing every inch of your body, moving your hair from your face and complimenting you. Every beautiful thing you could say to your lover, is said.

jack off (Masturbation Headcanon)

He doesn’t do it a lot. When training for a game, he’s put on a two-week sex ban. So there are times when he gets home and needs to see you in one of your nice lingerie, touching himself to the look of you. But whenever he can spend his time fucking you over and over, it’s time we’ll spent.

kink (One or more of their kinks)

Aside from the daddy kink, he has a corruption kink. Knowing he was your first, he’d slowly plagued your innocent mind with dirty thoughts. Taught you what he liked, learnt what you liked. Seeing you become more confident sexually, because of him, it turned him on.

location (Favorite places to do the do)

Mason has a few favourite places:

The kitchen counter; seeing you bent over and begging for more of him, bruises most likely forming from the constant drilling into the counter. In a house as big as his, you could be as loud as you wanted. And he loved hearing the nice echoes of your moans.

Sun beds; when you were both on holiday, mason was taking advantage of the time he was allowed to have sex. He wanted to enjoy the sun, and you. So in the comfort of your private Villa, you were all his in front of the sweltering sun and gorgeous view.

Car; it was a tight squeeze, sure, but it was all the more sexy. Mase had a legal amount of tint to his windows, meaning nobody was seeing into his car. So he could have you going down on him as he waited in traffic, making all kinds of faces and noises for only you to see and hear.

motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

After your massive shopping sprees, you’d arrive home with a myriad of bags and clothes. You’d make Mason sit on the couch, parading your body around in front of him, with all kinds of complimenting clothing. It wasn’t long before you were both tangled together on the couch, Mason hitting you from behind.

Or when he gets home from training, all sweaty and grunting from moving around for hours, and he’d see you bent over the counter casually scrolling your phone. Mason would be bringing you up to the shower with him.

no (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wasn’t big on tying you up, even if you tell him it doesn’t hurt, he wouldn’t dare do it in case he actually did hurt you. Or spitting in your mouth, it just didn’t turn him on like it did other people.

As far as turn offs go, there’s nothing you do that turns him off.

oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Mason was god-like at giving head, he does it for his own pleasure. But he prefers receiving. Call him selfish, sure. But the look on your face as you’re taking all of him, it’s a sight he wouldn’t exchange for the world.

pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Mason likes to do it rough, he knows it turns you on more than anything, and it ties in perfectly with his kinks. But for more romantic evenings, like your anniversary, he’s holding you gently and slowly thrusting into you, your lips connected the whole time.

quickie (Their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

You only have quickies when you have events to attend to. One of your families barbecues? Quickie either in the car or their bathroom. A wedding party? Quickie in the toilets or he’d be fingering you under on of the tables. Let’s just say Mason lives on quickies.

risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

I wouldn’t call it risky, more experimentation. But when you suggested buying whipped cream, ice, and chocolate sauce. He thought you were making ice creams, not having experimental sex with food. But he bought in nonetheless and tried it, rubbing your nipples with ice cubes. Seeing your back arch and hearing your moans erupt from your mouth, it was enough to know he was going to enjoy you bringing a bag of ice home.

stamina (How many rounds can they go for? How long do they last?)

Being an athlete, you’d think Mason can last a while. And you’d be right. But sometimes, when he’s had a long few months of training, as well as the god-awful sex ban, just seeing you in a bra would make him cum.

toys (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Anything that pleasures you, he has it. Vibrators, beads, gag, whip, paddle. You name it. In the bottom of his bedside table, that’s where you’ll find the goodies. After learning how many tools there were to help you reach a good orgasm, Mason was feeling a few hundred quid lighter.

unfair (How much they like to tease)

If football doesn’t work out, Mason could have a career in teasing. He does it in places he knows you can’t do anything about it. At a barbecue, he’ll ‘excuse himself’ past you and grab at your hips tightly, feeling his dick against your ass. Looking back at you with a smirk, you know what he’s in for later.

volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Mason had mastered the art of silence, when he’d be sharing a room with another England teammate, and you’d be sending him nudes nonstop. He had a gallery full, and yet here you were, adding a few more and making him hard. But he loved to be loud, knowing it was only you two in the house, he could do as he pleased, grunting as he slammed into you.

wild card (A random headcanon)

He loves being in a cocky mood with you, not to piss you off, but to sexually frustrate you. As you hoover under his feet, he’d whisper a few dirty thoughts into your ear as he got up. Or if you hand him a drink whilst he’s playing on his pc, he rewards you with a slap on the ass.

x-ray (Let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Mason is hung. The men who don’t brag about their size are the biggest. He knows he doesn’t have a completely chiselled body like other men do, but you never fail to remind him that none of them have ever made you cum like he has. It made him more confident about his fingers, his arms, his legs his chest. It was him that you chose, and it’s him that gets to make you cum every night if he wanted to.

yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

Too high for the career he has. He’d quite happily be buried between your legs all day if he could choose to be, or have you gagging on him every night. He just wanted you all day every day, and his job wouldn’t allow it. But it made your sex sessions much better, with all the pent up sexual frustration.

zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Not as quickly as you. Whilst you’re dozing off on his chest, he’s stroking your hair with one hand and dragging his other hand from your cheek all the way down to your hips and back. It’s not long after you’re completely out for him to cuddle into you and drift off himself.

if you guys have any requests, do let me know ! <3