#and then i decided i would be that someone after realizing i could name them

[readwritealldayallnight]

I would love a take on boyfriend Ghost coming home to surprise you, but he finds your bed empty and doesn't realize that you are in his room in his bed. Thanks.

The placebo effect, was what he kept trying to convince you it had to be, no matter how many times you rolled your eyes and told him he was wrong

How else could one explain your insistence that Simon’s bed smelled so much like him, becoming your safe space when he was away on long deployments, when he only ever slept with you in your bed most nights to begin with

Hard to believe it was nearly three years ago now that you’d told your friend since childhood, Johnny, about how your search for a new flat was going miserably. You remember how he’d perked up and recounted with a mischievous glint in his eye about how his Lieutenant was apparently searching for a flat mate at the moment, someone who’d be looking after the place while he was away for work

Unsure about living with a strange man you’d never met before, but trusting Johnny’s judgement (though the way he seemed just a bit too eager about this meeting did kind of throw you off-) you had reluctantly agreed to meet with him and at least give the flat a glance before you simply turned him down

It wasn’t until you were knocking at the door of the address Johnny had written down for you, that you’d realized he’d never even given you the man’s goddamn name, only ever referring to him at Lieutenant or LT

Johnny apparently also failed to mention the absolute SIZE of the guy, his huge frame blocking nearly all of the light from behind him as he had swung the door open and stood in the doorway before you

In a slight panic, thrown off by the massive man before you and the way the butterflies in your stomach suddenly began to flutter at the sight of him, you had greeted him for the first time with a squeaky, unsure voice saying ‘Um, hi, are you the Mr Lieutenant?’ (something he has never let you live down since)

He knew then and there that you would be the one

Not just his flatmate (though what a generous flatmate he was when he offered insisted on moving all your boxes out of your old place and into his that very same day), but the one, something he reluctantly had to give Soap credit for, seeing as he was the one who wouldn’t stop talking his ear off about you

You would be his other half, his better half

And all these years later, the two bedroom flat truly only acted as a one bedroom, considering that from the start Simon was always falling into your bed with you at the end of each night, limbs tangled together under the warmth of a lovers embrace a thousand times more comforting than an actual comforter

Still though, that first time Simon had to be gone for work longer than a few weeks, you found the lingering odor of him clinging to his bedsheets to be one of the few things keeping you sane in his absence, taking to sleeping in his room for the time being, imagining that the pillow you cling to your front was a strong muscular arm instead, littered in scars and tattoos you feel confident you could recognize from touch alone

And when his long awaited flight back home to you landed a few hours earlier than expected, tires touching down in the dark, stillness of late night hour, he decided he’d surprise you and come straight home, rather than calling you to meet him at the base like you’d insisted, not wanting to wake you

Barely able to contain himself, he decided the elevator ride up to the seventh floor would take too long, take away precious seconds that brought him closer to you, and so up the flight of stairs he went, taking them two or three at a time, rushing to see the face etched behind his eyelids every time he closed his eyes, to hear the voice that haunted his dreams each night

Quietly as a man his size could, he crept into the flat, snuck his way into your room, expecting to see your sweet, sleeping form cuddled up amongst the blankets and pillows. But his heart dropped when he noticed the bed was still perfectly made, not a thread out of place.

Trying to remain calm, though his mind was instantly swarming with every possible scenario that could have taken place, he knew he saw your shoes and jacket by the door, you couldn’t have gone far… but where were you?

He glanced into the living room, wondering if he missed you sleeping on the couch after a long day, he poked his head into the bathroom, even went so far as to check the small balcony, but finally there was only one door left to open.

And there you were, safe and sound, a tiny ball curled up into the center of his huge bed, clinging to one of his old masks and holding it close to your chest as though it were a security blanket (you’d been sleeping in his bed so much you needed something that still smelled strongly of him, you were getting desperate)

Stripping himself down to only his boxers, he tiptoed towards the side of the bed, his mind finally feeling more at peace than he ever had, gently pulling the sheets back just enough for him to slip in behind you, his strong arms wrapping around your middle and pulling you into his muscular chest

Though it should be alarming to suddenly feel a pair of hands roaming over your skin, a body holding you firmly against their own, it’s as though your body knows who it is before your mind does

Any tension you were still holding onto during his absence instantly melts away, your own hands coming to land over top of his, giving a slight squeeze of acknowledgment, not yet willing to fully leave your half asleep state, but needing to touch him, to confirm he really is here

“Hmm,” You hum, voice groggy with sleep and a smile slowly stretching across your lips, snuggling further into his embrace. “You’re home.”

He presses a kiss to the top of your head, breathing you in, wishing he could bottle up the scent of your shampoo and lotions and perfumes, if only to have something to hold onto while he’s away, understanding now why he found you in this bed rather than your own

“I am.” He whispers into your hair, sensing that you’re already drifting back into dream land, safe in his arms and his bed, knowing he’ll be there when you wake. He feels his chest tighten when he knows that you weren’t talking about the fact that he’s physically home, in the flat, but something more, something much more, because he means the same thing when he tells you, “You’re my home too, love.”

[sun-flower-children]

Academic Rivals! Viktor x Reader

Academy Student!Viktor x gn!Reader

Here's my take on this idea that has been rumbling around my brain especially with all the new viktor fics ( yall are doing the lords work)

not proof read + a lot longer than I thought it would be, sorry lmao

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You were the Academy's top student known to be the top of the class with the highest scores always exceeding expectations.

Your creative thinking and problem solving is what normally got you the spotlight of attention within academia.

Naturally after spending your first two years of the Academy eating up the attention and receiving offers from multiple elite members of society, industry and government certainly made your resume/reputation an intimidating one.

Your peers knew you to be competitive and ambitious wanting to be the one to set the curve; extensive research projects, etc.

This did however make you a poor teammate with your passionate ideas that one of them could dream of keeping up with you. Plus you would steal the leadership role from them to implement the changes you'd want.

You had gotten used to pattern created for you with a bright future ahead.

Even if you were getting kind of bored of knowing that your worst idea would still allow you to keep your rank.

Then all the sudden a new student joins the Academy

It didn't bother you much until you started seeing a drop in your scores and ranking thus creating a rivalry with this mysterious student.

It was not until you and Viktor shared a class that you realized who your academic opponent was

Thus starting a new chapter of your academic career with renewed passion upon knowing there was finally someone that could equal you in skill.

Fighting for everything within the academic realm that was available

Now neither of you had ever officially been introduced or carried a proper conversation instead replacing regular communication with pointed looks of smugness or confidence.

You would have angry fits in private realizing the margin that you had lost to Viktor

Long days and nights spent gaining a potential advantage over your rival.

Your friends would point out how you would almost pop a vein just describing the way that he would "usurp the first place on an exam all because of a technicality"

Honestly when you would get really into it you were sure that you hated this guy: coming out of nowhere with no prior history and just takes over everything you have worked hard to establish.

Who does he think he is????

Now all your professors, namely Himerdinger paid close attention to this rivalry. It's entertaining watching your top 2 students hash it out and creating things they would not have without this push.

Himerdinger seeing how honed in your other skills were decided to create a project for the class specifically targeting you both.

A partnered project

One that could not change neither the topic, the partner or the day that it was to be presented; everything set in stone.

" Learning the skills needed in a lab is one thing but the most important and impactful discoveries have always been those created through teamwork." Himerdinger would share one fateful day as he put up the paper listing the groups.

It did not even cross your mind that you would have been paired with Viktor and after looking at the poster turned around a looked at him.

Viktor was still sitting in his front row seat in the lecture room patiently waiting for the crowd to dissipate before getting up to look at the paper.

He continued to wrap up whatever notes he had taken as you step up to him.

"We are assigned partners for this project." you say very matter a factly.

Viktor looks up to you with a small smile," Well then, we should set up times to work on the project together. What times work best for you?"

You were taken aback by his nonchalance.

Did he really not care that he was partnered with you? Did he not see you as significant enough to mention the obvious tension? Did he not even see you as a rival but a regular student below him???

After a short pause you share what time you are normally at the library.

As you share the details he finished packing up his stuff.

Looking back up to with another slightly bigger smile (what is his game???) " I'll see you then. Tomorrow at table four."

With that he leans on his cane and leaves you in the quiet empty classroom to deliberate your next moves.

That night you started working on the project creating multiple schemes, ideas, and conceptual ideas that could be used for the project put forth.

You went to bed hoping to finally force him to recognize you as the rival that you were as he seemed so dismissive before.

You showed up to the library at the arranged time to see Viktor sitting peacefully at a study table thumbing through multiple volumes seemingly looking for a specific piece of information.

"Good Morning." you started as you walked up to him.

Without even looking up he returns the same early day greeting and places yet another volume aside and opening a new one.

Raising an eyebrow that the attitude you place your things on the other side of the table.

"I was thinking last night about this project and had written down some ideas that I believe that we should pick from as our approach." you open the discussion with no changed behavior from your supposed teammate.

You continue, " I have already taken the liberty to research them, for your convenience, and have supplied preliminary data for each one. Honestly any of these would resolve the problem raised by our projects prompt with their main difference being how creative you wanted to get with it."

Viktor has created yet another pile of abandoned books that didn't meet his mysterious criteria all the while not regarding you properly.

Your felt your self becoming more warmer as you felt the irritation pool into the oil pit of anger you have created surrounding him.

"It's considered polite to respond or at the very least acknowledge when someone is talking to you. Or are you so focused on your book hunt you aren't ever looking at the person you are supposed to be completing this project with."

Viktor sighs putting the book currently in his possession down and looks up to you.

"It was not my intention to be rude I am just looking for a specific volume that has a unique perspective on the concept we learned a week ago but the title is slipping my mind."

Sighing you sit down and observe the collection of books created on the table.

"I'm going to go on a limb here and assume that you only really remember that the color of the book was dark blue?"

Viktor chuckled," Observant and yes I am."

"Well you aren't going to find it in the library considering there is only one copy of it. That author's take was considered almost heretic."

"Ah, so you are familiar with the book I am referencing?"

"It would be strange if I didn't considering that I brought it with me to our meeting. I checked it out a week ago because it piqued my interest and also happened to align with this assignment."

You hold it out over the table as Viktor sighs again running a hand through his hair.

The meeting ended up going on for longer than expected.

You were surprised to find that he has a similar perspective to yours and understood your vision from the multiple proposals that you had created.

Further analysis showed some minor flaws that would otherwise be overlooked by other people; but neither of you too were not going to settle for anything less than perfection.

The more that the two of you poured over ideas, equations, concepts, and plans until you came up with a path that pleased you both with only one variable that needing some testing.

Viktor offered to go his smaller private study that he had already set up a similar experiment (he was also trying ideas out the night before)

Walking side by side down the hallways was a strange feeling.

Not because you were walking slower that your default rushed walking pace but because this person that you had, honestly, really hated and rationalized that was cheating somehow....wasn't.

You hated to admit it as you continued to listen to his rambling on of the missing component that they needed to figure out.

(Shit...he is actually just naturally brilliant)

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part 1 | part 2 >

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for my ruined relationship with my soulmate?

[Author's note: some details are purposefully ignored or exaggerated for unreliable-narrator purposes]

I (F) have been trapped in a hunger-games sort of situation for the past six weeks. The way it works is that we all got three lives, green, yellow, and red, and when we were reduced to red we were taken over by... a sort of bloodlust. We also shared our life force with another, a soulmate who felt every pain we did. If one died, so did the other.

When the game began, an acquaintance M (M) and I went looking for resources to share with our soulmates. We went somewhere sort of dangerous in search of rare materials, but we were careful and returned safely.

Afterwards, we went looking for our soulmates. We found them- mine was S (M) and M's soulmate was C (F). I had the strangest feeling that we were friends in some kind of past existence, so I thought I could trust them... but I was wrong.

S and C said we'd abandoned and endangered them. They didn't listen to reason when I tried to explain that we were being careful and we just wanted to stock up early. They said they chose each other as their soulmates, and left, and then M blamed me for everything and he left too, and I was so alone...

I tamed a wolf, Tilly. If they wanted to choose their soulmates, then fine, I chose Tilly. I built myself a lovely tall tower to keep an eye on everyone who might ever want to hurt me. Tilly had a little fall while I was working but she was okay, she came back as yellow! Good wolf, she would never leave me :)

I visited a pair of acquaintances, B (M) and R (M), to play a little prank on them, just for a minute. R accidentally angered a monster while chasing me, and he got killed, so I tried to protect the things he dropped from S and C, who wanted to steal it all. But R didn't appreciate my efforts, he said it was my fault he died and called me all sorts of names and banished me from his house!

I was really upset at S and C, so I decided to get back at S by purposefully letting myself get frostbite and making him have to heal us. I guess rumors of what I had been up to spread, because soon enough, everyone thought I was crazy. It wasn't even that bad, it was only a little tickle really!

Some of the other contestants organized a little party, and we played a game where one of us swung the others around with a fishing rod. Another pair, J (M) and E (M) accidentally got hurt too much and died, so as a joke I decided to take the fancy armor they dropped. I was going to give it back, but they killed me before I even could, and then S yelled at me again!

Everything descended into chaos after that. People started burning each others' houses down, someone brought a giant monster up to the surface. S, C, and I were forced to team up to increase our chances of survival, even though they kept criticizing me and calling me the "crazy ex" the whole time.

I bred Tilly with a wolf that S found, and soon enough I had a whole army of wolves to accompany me. But S was stupid and got caught burning down another pair's house so they killed him and then I was red.

I left S and C since they clearly didn't want me there, and tried to get the other reds to let me join them, but they kept calling me crazy and trying to kill my wolves. So I took my revenge on the reds, I killed them with my axe, whack whack whack, and my pack and I laughed and ate and cheered.

After that, it was just M, C, S, and me. M and C tried to kill me, but getting rid of them was easy enough. But... then I realized that Tilly was gone. M said she was corrupting me, but I wasn't corrupted! All of them were, for being so mean to me!

I didn't even get to finally have a proper fight with S like I always wanted to... he blew himself up and then it was just me for only a moment before I died too and...

...I don't deserve this. Winning.

Maybe I really am a monster.

I'm so lonely.

[azulhood]

Danny was tired, like 'I feel it in my bones and soul' tired. And he didn't want sleep at home because there's only so many nights, he could spend lying awake making sure his heart was beating in case his parents checked on him.

Currently he was flying aimlessly not really taking in his surroundings, but he could neither sleep while flying or fly forever. Normally he'd sleep over at Sam or Tucker's, but the Mansons had made it clear that he wasn't welcome at their house anymore and Tucker was grounded. Both would sneak him in if he asked, but he didn't want them to get in trouble for him. Which leads him to decide between his two choices, sleeping in a graveyard, or sleeping in a forest.

The graveyard was a little crowded with all the ghosts that called it home but he could probably find a quiet spot to sleep. The forest had a great view of the stars but was filled with traps from both his parents and the GIW after tracking his ecto-signature. Both options weren't appealing, but he wasn't about to chance sleeping on the roof of his house again. There were too many ghost detecting guns attached to it now. Danny sighed, graveyard it was, at least the ecto from all the shades/ghosts would hide him well enough. Decision made, now all he had to do was make his way over there. But first, where the heck was he? Danny looked around at the unfamiliar grey sky and gargoyles littered around and realized he had no clue where he was. He must have flown too far away from Amity without noticing...Again. It was really becoming a bad habit. Danny stared down at the city's inhabitants that were going home or heading to nightshifts or whatever and dreaded the long flight back to his town. And maybe it was ghost instinct, or maybe it was just his exhaustion. But his brain suggested 'What if I just possess someone?' And to him that seemed like a perfectly logical train of thought. He wouldn't control their body or anything, just sleep in their skin...That did not make it sound better at all. Before he could think twice, someone left a general store, arms filled with stuff and somehow projecting an aura of safety. The two thoughts of 'They look comfy' and 'screw it' clashed together in his head as he made the very stupid decision of performing a swan drive right into the someone. "WHAT THE-" "Don't worry, I'll be gone by morning I just need to sleep" Danny cut off the persons freakout-he should really get their name at some point- he would have explained more but the sleep gods had already done their job. This left one very confused, scared, and freaked out Batkid.

[miharuki]

𝖄𝖆𝖓𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖁𝖎𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖓 𝕻𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊 𝖃 𝕽𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗 (𝕱𝖊𝖒)

You were inside an otome game, an old classic that you found while searching for games of the same genre.

Imagine your surprise when you realized you were inside the otome game "My Pure Elegant Love," a medieval-style otome game with nobles, kings, and knights. You had just woken up, finding yourself as the daughter of a duke, any duke. Perhaps for a brief moment, you thought you could have reincarnated as Amelie, the protagonist of this game, but you were far from it.

You quickly befriended Amélie; her sweetness and gentleness were at least forced, but you knew that was the vibe of the game. Perhaps being the daughter of a duke, you could meet other characters, like Claude, the noble and best friend of Amélie in the plot and one of the favorite characters of the small group that played this forgotten game, damn it.

There was also Nathan, one of the strongest and most talented knights in the plot. We can't forget about Kalisto, the protagonist's younger brother who had a crush on her, Luka, one of the princes and also a romantic partner in the plot, as well as the wizard Azrael, and the first Duke Eros, all romantic interests of the protagonist.

Being the daughter of a simple duke, you knew you wouldn't have a chance with those of high status like Luka, the first prince. You weren't the protagonist, but you couldn't help but envy her. Perhaps because she was receiving love from handsome boys? Or perhaps because even in this life, in this game, you weren't loved by your family. You thought that being the daughter of a duke would give you some privileges, but oh, how wrong you were. Neglected by your parents, hated by the romantic interests of the protagonist, and simply having a bad reputation.

You thought you were becoming friends with Claude and that you might even win his love, but that was thrown out the window when they all decided to embarrass you at the prince's luxurious party. You didn't know that wearing a dress that Luka himself gave you would make you the target of everyone's ridicule.

"How could you do this, [name]?" How could you? You didn't do anything wrong! There, in front of the stairs with the prince behind her, was the protagonist, wearing the same dress as yours, but prettier. Perhaps because her perfect protagonist's body and beauty were helping her.

All the protagonist's romantic interests, including the ones you liked on the other side of the screen, were looking at you with anger, perhaps even smiling as if it were planned by them, by all of them, including his highness, who at first seemed not to like you, treating you even like a servant. You envy how they were all around that bitch, comforting her, as if you were the villain, which you never were.

Everyone talked, laughed, and even mocked. "I can't believe Miss Amélie has a friend like that!" You heard a lady saying, looking down. Not even your parents cared about you, at this point, you're probably being disowned by the family.

With tears on your face, after trying to explain the misunderstanding to everyone, after being slapped by his highness and the protagonist, you felt like crap. Pulling on the dress, you turned and ran out of the hall, opening the doors brutally. You couldn't stay in that room anymore, not when everyone was now looking at you with hatred.

Unaware, you came across a balcony, hearing footsteps coming. You were scared; the prince might have sent guards after you after you "lied" to everyone while explaining.

With all your strength, you push through the balcony fence, and as you're about to jump, someone forcefully opens the doors, startling you and causing you to slip, now falling to the ground. Your tears are now stronger, groaning in pain as you try to get up.

It was with pain, dirt, and tears that you ended up behind a bush. You couldn't take it anymore; you were shaking from the cold, crying, your makeup smudged, your hair dirty and messy, your "copied" dress dirty and torn. You've never felt so worthless before.

You cried as if you were carrying all the burdens, thinking about how the romantic pairs and the protagonist were not the best; in fact, they were the worst.

Feeling a headache, you sit down, trying to breathe well and calm down as you think, "And now?"

"What's a maiden doing crying in the middle of the woods?" Looking back, you noticed someone coming, a boy. Turning your head forward, you try to wipe away the tears. You don't like anyone seeing you cry; crying is for weak people.

Then you felt something being thrown over you, a thick, large coat. Lifting your head, you now look at the boy in front of you. His melodic and calm voice speaks as he gently crouches in front of you.

"Can you tell me, fair lady?"

You sobbed, trying not to cry, mocking the nickname the boy gave you.

"Fair lady? The way I am right now, I'm barely even a girl, let alone fair or a lady," you say as you use your own dress to clean up the mess of makeup and tears.

"I don't think that," the boy continues to clean as he speaks. "To be honest, I think you're even more beautiful. You just can't see it."

The boy's hands lift your stained and dirty face. You look and notice the looks he's giving, but they're not directed at the protagonist like everyone else's; they're for you.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" His calm and concerned eyes are looking at you, waiting for your response.

You just look aside before sighing. It's better than nothing.

"His Highness, the prince, had given me a dress as a gift... to wear at the ball today, but my friend - no, Miss Amélie was wearing the same one. Some of her friends started mocking me for trying to 'copy' the girl, but when I tried to explain, His Highness said he would never give me a gift in his life, especially knowing that his 'friend' Amélie would be wearing it today," you almost can't finish without starting to cry again, sobbing as you try to explain.

"They all planned to humiliate me in front of everyone, and His Highness still insists that I'm lying!" You say, already crying again, not noticing the arms going around you. You only notice when you feel being embraced by the boy as you cling to him, crying and sobbing.

"My dear, they don't deserve your kindness or your presence. What they did was extremely awful to a lady like you," the boy says as he strokes your hair and back, comforting you, as you've always wished to be.

You were clinging to the boy, feeling betrayed, feeling used. You didn't even notice the boy raising his hand to someone behind you, to someone dressed in black, a gentleman, but not the prince's gentleman, oh no, not that traitor.

You didn't even realize how the castle was beginning to stir.

"Let's go, I'll take you somewhere else. You might end up getting sick staying here," he says as he watches you cling to him. He could feel your warmth, you were starting to get sick from crying so much. Nomura's heart was breaking at the thought of you falling ill.

"Are you okay with this, miss?" The boy asks before you nod in agreement. Nomura gets ready and picks you up bridal-style, using his own coat that was on top of you as a blanket to protect you as he carried you to his own carriage.

Watching as you had already fainted from crying, he held you gently as the carriage headed towards his castle, leaving behind an important part of the game that was happening, unaware that the game's villain was now holding you firmly.

Do I do a part 2?

[thinkinonsense]

WICKED

old man!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: cheating, heavy flirting, smut, kinda dark

authors note: i have no idea what came over me and i cannot explain it. also! gif credit to the amazing n talented @silverskyeline <333

he never should've gone to the bar. never should've let you run your pretty mouth. most definitely never should've bought you that martini. every weekend he watches you seduce the men at the bar until one of them falls into your trap.

logan would scoff, mumbling something under his breath about how stupid that bastard must be. despite the fact that the only thing holding him back from your advances was the thick gold band on his finger, reminding him of where his loyalty should be.

"lovely seeing you here again, logan."

he loathed your wicked smile and how your voice sounded like rain fall. trying his best to avoid staring into the eye of the storm but your presence demanded to be seen. practically ripping his hazel gaze off the wooden table and over to that tiny dress you were wearing. dark navy tight against your skin in a way that could make any man sin.

"missed ya' last weekend." you purr. "where were you at?"

"home." he states, gruffly.

"that's boring. why were you at home?"

"wedding anniversary."

the words made your tummy flip with excitement. you didn’t know much about logan outside of his favorite brands of alcohol, but you did know that he had a wife at home. he never mentioned her by name. sometimes, she would call the bar if it was “too late” for him to be out but other than that, she was a ghost.

“cute. you should bring her here one weekend.” you propose, almost making logan choke on his whisky. “bet she would love to see where you run and hide at night.”

“it’s not her kinda scene.” he responds.

“aw, i’m sure we would be friends.”

“doubtful.”

“and why’s that?” you fake pout.

logan leans in close before whispering, “don’t think she would appreciate you beggin’ for her husband to fuck you in a dirty bar bathroom every weekend.”

“i didn’t say we would stay friends.” you giggle, making his cock stir in his work pants. “also, the invite is still open if you miss fuckin’ someone younger.”

the second you are out of sight, off in the pool room next door annoying some other asshole, he groans under his breath. logan hated how well you read him. you knew he wanted you but you were smart enough to make him come crawling to you if he wanted to feel your tight cunt wrapped around him.

after a couple minutes, a few men left the room and logan got up to take their place. when he walked inside he saw it was empty except for you sitting in one of the chairs on your phone.

“glad you decided to join me.” you smile up at him.

logan ignores you instead going over to get a stick and start playing. you finish your martini and join him as he sets up the balls. catching you off guard, he tosses you a stick too.

“if i win, you leave me alone for good.” he huffs in your face.

“sure but what do i get when i win?” you smirk.

logan ignores your question and growls, “ladies first.”

it's dead silent as you bend over the pool table to line your stick up to the diamond. logan's far too busy staring at the wet spot on your light blue panties. he never admit it, even if you knew for sure that's where his eyes were. it wasn't until he lost sight of the spot that he realized you already took your shot.

"your turn, old man." you tease, moving out of his way.

the two of you go back and forth for a bit but you were growing tired of this game. instead you decided to make things even more interesting.

"so when i win, are you going to finally fuck me?" your bluntness always left logan speechless.

"you already know the answer to that, sweetheart." he replies, trying to focus before shooting.

"sure, blah, blah, blah, something wife." you mock with an eye roll that almost made logan chuckle. "but seriously? when was the last time you two had sex? you probably got cobwebs in there."

that got a small smirk out of him. one that you count as a win.

"it's just a band. it comes off, see?" you lean over and take the ring off of his finger, placing it on the table.

logan stared at it for too long. feeling the distance of his commitments. you turn his head towards you with a light hook on his grey bearded chin. the lust in his eyes told you that you had won.

"you know what else comes off that easily?" you whisper, lips inches from his. "my panties."

a good man would've walked away. a good man would've returned home to his wife. but logan wasn't a good man. never had been and never would be.

an animalistic urge fell over him, grabbing you with the ease of a rag doll and bending you over the pool table. the wedding band was inches from your parted lips, moaning prettily as logan spread you open with his thumbs and licked a wide strip up your cunt, burying his face in your arousal and letting it coat his beard until he could only taste you.

"f-fuck me." logan groans, pulling back to catch his breath. "taste better than i imagined."

"knew you wanted me." you smirk, feeling his middle finger circle your entrance before pushing in. a loud moan is pulled from your throat as he hits that spongey spot with ease.

"weren't lying 'bout being tight." logan marvels, watching the way you suck in his finger.

he attempts to push in his ring finger as well and you wish you could've seen his face while he struggle to get it in. quickly, you reach for the wedding ring next to you then grab his hand from inside you. fumbling to get the ring back on him before he questions you.

"what are you—"

"go on." you coax, looking back at him with dark eyes. "try it now."

logan shouldn't have been so turned on from the image of his wedding ring coated in your slick; but here he was watching it disappear and reappear inside of you.

"right—fuck! r-right there..." you pant, arching farther back to meet his thrusts.

"does it turn you on being a homewreaker?" logan asks, back up on his feet and nibbling at your ear. "knowing that you have a old married man fucking you with his wedding band on?"

"mhm..." you mumble against the table. he takes the opportunity to pick up his pace, feeling you clench down. "d-don't stop..."

within seconds, your gushing around his fingers and dripping down his hand. right when he pulled out of you, you turn around and push him back into one of the plush chairs to undo his belt. falling to your knees, you begin to stroke him, tracing his veins with your tongue and tapping the tip on it.

"always knew you had quite the mouth on ya', princess." he grunts with a fist full of your hair.

you smile, taking him all the way until his tip hit the back of your throat and the hairs at his base tickled your nose. logan was finding it harder and harder to control his animalistic urge while your gagging and drooling all over his lap. quickly, you release him with a pop and stand up to straddle him, lining him up to your entrance and sinking down slowly.

"shit, you're so fucking tight." he says, gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises.

"only for you, logan." you whine, grinding down on him, rocking back and forth.

roughly, logan pulls the rest of your dress off of you, throwing it on the floor somewhere behind you. large hands touching you all over in ways you've only dreamt of. meanwhile, your attacking his neck like a madwoman. biting and marking him up like he's yours.

desperately, logan fucks up into you, needing more. his tip nudges that sweet spot within you, making you moan loudly in his ear, encouraging him to go faster. so focused on the squealing of your soaked pussy. he captures your lips, kissing you tenderly. you can feel his high approaching, twitching inside of you, and you needed to do one last thing before it hit him.

carefully you pull away, gripping his chin and pulling him face to face with you. his eyes are blown out with desire as he stares at you.

"tell me your mine, lo." you whisper against his lips.

logan can feel you clench tightly around him, waiting for him to give into you completely. he presses his thumb down on your button, moving in fast circles to get you there with him.

"f-fuck, i'm yours, baby." he moans, coating your walls with spurts of his release. "i'm yours."

"t-that's right." you moan, kissing him roughly as your high washes over you.

"you look so pretty like this." he coos, watching the pleasure run over you.

for a moment the two of you sit still, trying to catch your breath. logan's mind races, not meaning to cum inside of you but it's far too late now.

"lets keep this a secret between the two of us, huh?" he says while you play with his hand, mischievously. before he can notice, you pocket the ring.

"sure thing, baby." you reply. "i'll gladly be your little secret but have fun explaining those marks to the old ball and chain."

logan looks down at you and that wicked smile of yours, only to realize just how fucked he is.

[whencartoonsruletheworld]

Hey so like many of you, I saw that article about how people are going into college having read no classic books. And believe it or not, I've been pissed about this for years. Like the article revealed, a good chunk of American Schools don't require students to actually read books, rather they just give them an excerpt and tell them how to feel about it. Which is bullshit.

So like. As a positivity post, let's use this time to recommend actually good classic books that you've actually enjoyed reading! I know that Dracula Daily and Epic the Musical have wonderfully tricked y'all into reading Dracula and The Odyssey, and I've seen a resurgence of Picture of Dorian Gray readership out of spite for N-tflix, so let's keep the ball rolling!

My absolute favorite books of all time are The Haunting of Hill House and We Have Always Lived in the Castle by Shirley Jackson. Classic psychological horror books about unhinged women.

I adore The Bad Seed by William March. It's widely considered to be the first "creepy child" book in American literature, so reading it now you're like "wow that's kinda cliche- oh my god this is what started it. This was ground zero."

I remember the feelings of validation I got when people realized Dracula wasn't actually a love story. For further feelings of validation, please read Frankenstein by Mary Shelley and The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde by Robert Louis Stevenson. There's a lot the more popular adaptations missed out on.

Rebecca by Daphne du Maurier is an absolute gem of a book. It's a slow-build psychological study so it may not be for everyone, but damn do the plot twists hit. It's a really good book to go into blind, but I will say that its handling of abuse victims is actually insanely good for the time period it was written in.

Moving on from horror, you know people who say "I loved this book so much I couldn't put it down"? That was me as a kid reading A Little Princess by Frances Hodgson Burnett. Picked it up while bored at the library and was glued to it until I finished it.

Peter Pan and Wendy by JM Barrie was also a childhood favorite of mine. Next time someone bitches about Woke Casting, tell them that the original 1911 Peter Pan novel had canon nonbinary fairies.

Watership Down by Richard Adams is my sister Cori's favorite book period. If you were a Warrior Cats, Guardians of Ga'Hoole or Wings of Fire kid, you owe a metric fuckton to Watership Down and its "little animals on a big adventure" setup.

A Raisin in the Sun by Lorraine Hansberry was a play and not a book first, but damn if it isn't a good fucking read. It was also named after a Langston Hughes poem, who's also an absolutely incredible author.

Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury is a book I absolutely adore and will defend until the day I die. It's so friggin good, y'all, I love it more than anything. You like people breaking out of fascist brainwashing? You like reading and value knowledge? You wanna see a guy basically predict the future of television back in 1953? Read Fahrenheit.

Huckleberry Finn by Mark Twain and To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee are considered required reading for a reason: they're both really good books about young white children unlearning the racial biases of their time. Huck Finn specifically has the main character being told that he will go to hell if he frees a slave, and deciding eternal damnation would be worth it.

As a sidenote, another Mark Twain book I was obsessed with as a kid was A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court. Exactly what it says on the tin, incredibly insane read.

If Beale Street Could Talk by James Baldwin is a heartbreaking but powerful book and a look at the racism of the time while still centering the love the two black protagonists feel for each other. Giovanni's Room by the same author is one that focuses on a MLM man struggling with his sexuality, and it's really important to see from the perspective of a queer man living in the 50s– as well as Baldwin's autobiographical novel, Go Tell it on the Mountain.

Agatha Christie mysteries are all still absolutely iconic, but Murder on the Orient Express is such a good read whether or not you know the end twist.

Maybe-controversial-maybe-not take: Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov is a good book if you have reading comprehension. No, you're not supposed to like the main character. He pretty much spells that out for you at the end ffs.

Animal Farm by George Orwell was another favorite of mine; it was written as an obvious metaphor for the rise of fascism in Russia at the time and boy does it hit even now.

And finally, please read Shakespeare plays. As soon as you get used to their way of talking, they're not as hard to understand as people will lead you to believe. My absolute favorite is Twelfth Night- crossdressing, bisexual love triangles, yellow stockings... it's all a joy.

and those are just the ones i thought of off the top of my head! What're your guys' favorite classic books? Let's make everyone a reading list!

[suguann]

There comes a point where Simon finally admits that he hates your new boyfriend—not that he’s liked any of your past relationships over the years, but this one he’s more vocal about—with a name not worth remembering. Matt? Martin?

He’d stopped trying after his first week back from work.

“I don’t fucking trust him,” he says one night while at the pub right under your apartment; it’s become a weekly ritual of sorts when he’s on leave ever since meeting you there on Soap’s birthday several years back. 

“You say that about every guy I have you meet,” you tell him in that know-it-all voice that you always use with him. “You hardly even know him, and his name’s Marcus, by the way. It wouldn’t kill you to use it.”

He snorts. “Love, the bloke would put his cock in anyone with tits and a warm cunt.”

“He wouldn’t,” your voice is soft because maybe you already know.

He would.

You’re so fucking oblivious that you don’t even realize this, but there’s nothing except stars in your eyes whenever you look at (or even talk about) the Naval officer who thinks he’s some bigshot because he can fly a plane. 

Even now, at your boyfriend’s promotion after-party in some back alley nightclub, he’s hardly talked to you or offered to get you a drink. You’re always too nervous to order one by yourself, and only Simon—tall and imposing standing beside you—could have the grumpiest bartender reach for the blender to make a blended cocktail. 

When he comes back with your drink—too big fingers unfolding the tiny umbrella for you—he watches your boyfriend (Marcus) flirt with a girl in a tight leather dress on the other side of the room. It’s that moment that he decides he’s tired of you giving your attention to someone who doesn’t deserve it, tired of you lying belly up for men who only want to sink their teeth into you and leave once they’ve had their fill. 

He likes to think he’s a pretty good friend—opening your eyes to something better is a job he takes rather seriously.

“It’s just a bit of fun,” he says after coming back with your third margarita, a small amount of frothy liquid sloshing over the side when he sets it down in front of you. “It’s okay to want it.”

You bite your lip, eyes dropping down to where he’s patting his thigh. “Just fun?”

“Yes, love.” He smiles. “Just fun.”

Let me.

Whether you’re tipsier than he thought or he’s just really persuasive, it’s easy to get you crawling into his lap in the corner of the cracked leather booth. His hands wander the span of your smooth thighs where your short skirt doesn’t reach, and he muffles a groan in your shoulder when you start squirming against the tent in his jeans.

You say his name like a warning when his hands find their way under your skirt, yet you’re biting back a moan and don’t tell him to stop.

Simon undoes his jeans and shifts them down before pushing up the back of your skirt and adjusting your hips to watch the tip of his dick slide between the covered cleft of your ass. Nobody in the room can see what the both of you are doing with your skirt fanning around his lap, but someone could if they were truly looking, and that has him tugging your panties to the side so he can feel you.

"Your boyfriend is too stupid to realize you're sitting here riding my lap. What do you think he'd say if he saw you like this?"

 “W-wait, Simon!” you squeak. “What if he sees—”

He’s almost tempted to roll his eyes at your blind devotion—I’ll deal with it—dealing with it would be him making sure the prick never tries talking to you again.

Then, his fingers, like iron at your hips, jerk you back to impale you on his cock. "Fuck," he says, voice trembling around the edges.

“O-oh! It’s too—ah—too big!”

He wraps a hand around the slender slope of your throat, fingers digging into vulnerable flesh as he pulls you back until his lips are at your ear, nose pressing into the soft skin of your cheek. “Come on, love. I know you can take the whole thing. Right inside this tight cunt.”

Simon thrusts into you shallowly, just the tip going in and out, and you whine, little fingers scrabbling at his wrist—gasping and shivering and bucking in the trap of his arms.

A smirk curls at the edges of his mouth when he finally bottoms out in your hot-wet cunt for your boyfriend to see from the other side of the room. He'd laugh at how his jaw drops, but he can only manage little choked intakes of air at the feel of you wrapped so tightly around him.

“Squeeze my cock for me—fuck, there you go.” He presses a kiss below your ear and reaches down to pet your soaked clit with his thumb. Feels the moment you realize that your boyfriend is watching when you tense up.

“I’ll deal with it,” he says again and again until you’re melting into him, thighs trembling around his. “Promise. I promise…”

I apologize if you see this again! I was trying to edit it, and it wouldn't format right with the gif. You can find part two here.

masterlist

[mellowwillowy]

"Stop the wedding!!"

So you get to see NRC food fighting RSA in the end lol Yan! NRC vs Yan! RSA x GN Isekai'd Player (Self-aware)

All the people inside the cafeteria turned their attention to you, an isekai'd player.

"(Name)!!" Idia beamed in tears, finally someone saving him! ... wait, someone? Oh no no no no! You are not just 'someone'!! Why did he even bother troubling you to this extent? He should have just kissed the bride!!!

"Make it right in time, you got me, Ace?" "Thank you for kicking me like a barrel toward the ghosts, pal," Ace replied dejectedly but posed no annoyance at all.

"Potato, since when do you have the funds to get yourself such a nice suit?" Vil questioned as he inspected your overall. The makeup and hairdo were not done to the utmost perfection but he can let it slide because anything on you equals absolute beauty.

"Oh, this? So you are smart enough to realize Crowley won't cover MY suit! I mean, he was trying teeth and nails to not let me join Ace and Co!"

"At least he does something right for the first time," Leona added. "White suits you though I thought you'd surely go with Black as usual?" Trey cocked his head to the side questioningly.

"Look, this is what Neige lent me. And all his attires are almost pristine white! I'm telling ya'!" At that statement, you saw Vil twitch despite not being able to move, he must have been very pissed at the mention of Neige's name alone.

"Originally I planned on taking Cheny'a's but I realized how eccentric his taste is so I decided to go with Neige. The RSA students are kind enough to assist Neige in tailoring it to my size too! Got them right in time before Crowley could shoo me!"

"Dude, even the RSA knows how to respect them, I don't know if I should be angry or nah but it certainly leaves a bad aftertaste seeing them wearing what RSA makes for them." Cater whispers something to the person next to him, inaudible to your ears.

"What do you say if we steal the suit and then burn it down in front of them after we are done here? I'd like to give them a nice thank you hug too while we are at it." "And we should leave them some of my... flowers collection too. This alone should be enough to show our gratitude right?"

"I'd say we should try giving them a proper form of token of gratitude too, how about Master Lilia's cooking?" Sebek added with a grin, he had his fair share of Lilia's cooking to the point he'd like to share it with the others.

"Oh? Then I'd have to make sure to add extra 'love' into it." He replied, this time intending to poison people so its horrifying taste was multiplied at natural without him realizing it.

"Wait, why would we even bother giving them a handmade cooki-" Jack was immediately silenced by Cater's eerie smile. He had his fair share and he knew they meant nothing well from it at all.

"Hey Ace, do something! Stop throwing all your work on prefect!" Deuce yelled by the sideline, ready to chew his ears off.

"I agree, you shouldn't let someone magic-less handle this handful situation alone, get a hold of yourself right now will you, Ace?" Azul scowled and started to usher Ace into work.

"Dude! Now all of you are cornering me?" "You haven't finished, Ace?!"

And Riddle's voice was all it took to make Ace cowered like a puppy. Rook shook his head in disappointment, this had taken way longer than the original gameplay.

"Hurry! We should wrap things up as though we are changing a dirty tablecloth into a new one!" Epel yelled out rather... unique lines. Was he trying to be as poetic as Rook? If anything, both Rook and Vil said nothing regarding this.

"Riiiiighhhhtttt, I'm kinda checked out now, to be honest." Idia's eyes immediately widened, not you too?!

Just before the other could chant another "Smooch the bride", you immediately lunged toward the bride. All those gym class training paid off! Basically, this and that until the ghost inflated.

And instead of Rook ordering you and Epel around, you took the steering wheel before anyone could. "Move yer' ass you glorified wood logs! Move move move!"

The lucky person is the person who gets to feel you dragging them. Absolute win!

--

"Urgh, I'm so gonna have phasmophobia now." Idia rolled his eyes as the ghosts departed but to be honest? He was happy to see you barging into the cafeteria like a knight in shining armor for him! (It was mostly the others fighting lol)

Idia was taken by surprise the moment your hand smacked his back. "Would you look at it, the star of the show, a handsome groom adorned in black! You look positively breathtaking, senior Idia."

"Eep-! Oh no, they have graced me with their words that are enough to deafen me! What should I do? How should I show them just how grateful I am to be even considered by them???"

"What did you say? I couldn't hear you really well." "Well, brother said that-" "N-n-no! Nothing! I uh... am thankful... for your assistance." He answered bashfully, his hair tip turned into a shade of pink.

"Now now potato, it's time to change, wearing that must have been uncomfortable right?" Vil immediately pulled you away from the pink introvert. "No...? Neige said that it's meant to be comfortable and it's true!" "Well, we have something even wayyyy more comfortable for you, shrimpy! Come on now, let's take it off and dress you up in something else!"

--

Lilia was leading everyone with a basket of something, a speaker in one hand and Neige's suit in the other hand, "Hey you RSA whippersnappers! Get down!"

The head mage was coincidentally away that day and it allowed the NRC students to lead a protest in front of the academy's gate.

Lilia threw the white suit onto the ground while Leona whistled, signaling Rook to shoot an arrow of fire toward it like an Olympic grand opening. (What a duo.)

"Yeah! Eat this you good for nothing!" Cater and Ruggie immediately took out the pie from Lilia's basket and threw it right onto the students' face. Kalim was generous enough to sponsor lots of baking materials for Lilia with Jamil assisting with the baking. It was badly burnt but still hard as a rock.

Cheny'a was careful enough to avoid Trey and Riddle while Vil was feeling rather generous in feeding Neige~ Oh, and Malleus is always bullseye in his shots, hitting everyone down in no time. He was pretty pissed (sulking) that he was not invited to join your fun. Silver was not being merciful too, he didn't fall asleep at all during this whole thing!.

Rollo was feeling rather grateful but also sad that you did not come to him to ask for his help :( And Crowley just watched everything from the sidelines while praying that nothing bad will be sent to him after this. Well, he's happy with how bright his students are.

[hoe4hotchner]

Bakery owner reader x loyal customer hotch

Something with the team finding out about reader and seeing hotch all happy and smiling and whipped for her.

Later them finding out they’re actually dating and penny freaking out 😭😭

Love, Freshly Baked | [A.H]

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Bakery owner!reader

CW: Nothing but tooth rotting fluff

WC: 1k

A/N: Forgive me for having this drafted for ages!!! But here it is, and it's super duper cute!!!

           The smell of fresh pastries and brewing coffee filled the small bakery every morning, a cozy retreat nestled on a quiet corner of the bustling city. You had been running the shop for a couple of years now, getting to know every regular by name, but there was one customer who had quickly become your favorite.

           Aaron Hotchner.

           He’d been coming in almost every morning for months, ordering the same thing - a black coffee and a croissant - but it wasn’t just the simplicity of his order that caught your attention. It was the way he always seemed so calm and composed, even when the stress of his job was written all over his face. You weren’t sure what he did - all you knew was he had to wear a suit for the job - but you could tell it wore on him. Still, every time he walked through the door, his shoulders relaxed just a little, and a small smile would tug at his lips when he saw you.

           What you didn’t know was that Hotch’s team had noticed this change in him. It started small - an extra cup of coffee in the morning, a slightly brighter demeanor after breakfast - but it wasn’t long before the rest of the BAU picked up on it.

           “Anyone else notice how… happy Hotch has been lately?” Emily asked one morning as they gathered around their desks, waiting for the next case.

           Morgan leaned back in his chair, raising an eyebrow. “You’re right. I haven’t seen Hotch smile this much in… well, ever.”

           "Maybe he’s just found a new way to deal with stress. Meditation, perhaps?” Spencer didn't look up from the book he was reading as he answered.

           Penelope scoffed, twirling a bright pink pen in her hand. “Please, Reid. Hotch isn’t meditating. Something - or rather someone - has got him smiling.”           

           The rest of the team exchanged looks, curiosity piqued.

           A few days later, their suspicions were confirmed.

           It was a slow day at the office, so Hotch decided to take a longer-than-usual lunch break. What he didn’t realize was that his team had quietly followed him to the bakery, determined to find out what - or who - was behind their boss’s newfound cheerfulness.

           “Look,” Penelope whispered excitedly from across the street, pointing toward the bakery window. “He’s smiling! He’s actually smiling!”

           Sure enough, through the glass, they could see Hotch leaning against the counter, his face lit up in a way they’d never seen before. And then there was you, standing behind the counter with that same soft smile you always gave him.

           “Oh my god,” JJ whispered, her eyes wide. “Is that the bakery he always talks about?”

           “Looks like it,” Derek said, grinning. “And it looks like our boy is whipped.”

           Inside the bakery, Hotch had no idea he was being watched. He was too focused on you - on the way your eyes sparkled when you talked about your latest recipe, the way your hands moved with such care as you worked on rolling out the dough. Every morning spent in your presence was like a small respite from the chaos of his job, and he found himself craving that peace more and more as time went by.

           You handed him his coffee, and for a moment, your fingers brushed his. The simple contact sent a warmth through him that no amount of caffeine ever could.

           “You know, Aaron,” you said softly, your voice carrying the warmth that always made his mornings a little brighter, “you’re going to start running out of excuses to come here if you keep this up.”

           Hotch chuckled, a rare sound that you loved hearing. “I’ll think of something.”

           As he turned to leave, he glanced back one more time, catching your eye and giving you a smile that was just for you.

           Meanwhile, across the street, Penelope was practically bouncing with excitement. “You guys! He’s totally into her! Did you see that smile? We have to find out more.”

           A week later, the team got more than they bargained for.

           It was a Friday afternoon, and Hotch had just returned to the office after lunch. He was in a good mood, his smile lingering longer than usual. That’s when Penelope burst into the room, holding up her phone like it was a trophy.

           “Guys, you are not going to believe this!” she exclaimed, her voice high with excitement.

           The team gathered around, eyes wide as Penelope pulled up a photo she’d found online. It was you and Hotch, taken outside the bakery on a sunny day. He had his arm around your waist, and you were looking up at him with a smile that could melt hearts.

           “They’re dating!” Penelope practically squealed. “Hotch is dating the owner of the bakery!”

           The rest of the team was equally stunned.

           “Okay, now it all makes sense,” Emily said, grinning. “The extra coffee, the smiling, the mysterious bakery trips.”

           Morgan shook his head, chuckling. “Never thought I’d see the day when Hotch would be this smitten again. It’s nice to see him happy.”

           Penelope, however, was still in full freak-out mode. “Oh my god, we have to do something! Maybe throw them a surprise party or - wait, no, that’s too much. But we have to celebrate this somehow!”

           As they brainstormed, Hotch walked back into the bullpen, completely unaware of the chaos his relationship had caused among his team. But when he saw the knowing smiles on their faces, he paused.

           “What’s going on?” he asked, eyebrow raised.

           Penelope couldn’t hold it in any longer. “We know about the bakery, Hotch! And about her!” she blurted out, practically glowing with excitement.

           For a moment, Hotch was silent, his eyes scanning the room before he finally let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head. “I should’ve known you’d find out eventually.”

           The team erupted into laughter, and for the first time in a long time, Aaron Hotchner didn’t mind being the center of attention - because, after all, it was all for a love that made him happier than he’d ever been.

[violet-snail-sfw]

The first time I saw a trans woman was in porn. I was pretty young then, in early middle school I think. My first thoughts about trans women only existed in a sexual context, since that was the only place I saw us mentioned

The next time I saw trans people mentioned was a TV show presumably about trans people and transitioning. I didn't watch it, only saw the description because even as a kid I had already internalized the idea that it was taboo and I would get in trouble if my parents walked in and I was watching it

Eventually I saw enough TV and cop shows to see an episode with the dead trans hooker trope. It further reinforced the building idea that trans women were something else, separate from "normal" people and always on the outskirts of society

And then Caitlyn Jenner came out. At my Catholic middle school there were few kind things said about her and plenty of nasty comments, but this was the first time I saw trans people being publicly talked about

In high school my views on trans people started to fracture. On one hand, I was being pushed the idea that gender was about what's in your pants, that if you've got a dick your a man and there's nothing that can be done about it. On the other hand, early high school me had stumbled across some gender change erotica and quickly became obsessed with it. While it wasn't great representation, it was still pretty positive about transitioning. The people in those stories were always happier afterwards

I struggled to reconcile what parts of society were saying about trans people with my daydreaming about what I'd do if I woke up the next morning as a girl. Eventually I decided that it was just a fetish. I just thought it was hot, there was no way I could be trans because I was just a normal person. I wasn't weird or a spectacle for others to gawk at, I was just a person

Around that time I also met a trans person in passing for the first time. One of the trans guys at my high school was in one of the musicals that I went to because some of my friends were also in them. When I was talking to my friends about it after someone mentioned the trans guy and that he was trans. I wasn't really sure what to think so I kinda just didn't think about it. Thinking back, there were a few trans guys at my high school but I don't think there was a single out trans woman

Eventually in college I actually met some trans and nonbinary people. In some classes we introduced ourselves on the first day with names and pronouns which was my first exposure to people using pronouns other than just he/him and she/her. I had a few classes with trans and nonbinary people, including a survey of transgender studies class I took in my last semester. I had plenty of excuses for why I was taking it (I needed a few more credits to graduate. It still had room open. It fit with my other classes. It seemed interesting. I'm trying to be a good ally.)

Around this time as well I found some trans creators online like ContraPoints and Philosophy Tube (whom I had watched before she came out as trans). I was weirdly excited and interested when Odyssey Eurobeat came out as trans and I went to go listen to some of her music right after I heard. I was starting to have examples of trans people just being people. Not just porn stars or public spectacles, but people

Later I met and befriended a few trans women, one of whom was extremely open about her transness and happened to share a video which started the initial steps of my egg cracking and figuring out who I am now

If I had actually known any trans women, if the world had been kinder to trans people, if representation of trans women as people existed and was well known, I might have been able to realize who I was sooner. I would have been able to exist as myself for more than a tiny fragment of my life so far

Representation matters, both in media and in daily life. Trans people being out and open about who they are made it possible for me to realize that about myself. Please never stop being who you are

[krilati]

Tim, who is not Robin, but still feral

Okay, let's say Tim's parents decide that even if their child doesn't need a nanny, they want someone to check on their son's well-being. So Tim is required to go to the doctor once a week. And after he tried to bribe his first one to just tell his parents everything was fine. Janette decided it would be someone else each time.

Tim gets a car once a week that picks him up to see a doctor he doesn't know.

That way he doesn't have time to search for dirt, and he can't bribe anyone, since everyone drinks his mother more than him.

So after Nightwing turned Tim down (Dick later claimed the boy was black-haired and blue-eyed, but since he was often hallucinating Jason at the time, even he wasn't sure). The guy realized he couldn't go to Batman and insist on being Robin. The first fracture (which is 100% likely to happen in the early days of jumping on roofs and kicking angry adults) and the doctor would hand him over to his parents.

So Tim came up with a Plan.

Batman was angry, for a month now someone, every patrol, has been standing up for criminals. If he's lucky, he manages to land 5 hits (dude, your 1 hit can put a person in the hospital, Tim just has short legs, he still needs to run to the edge of the necessary roof) when someone distracts him.

Last time, they poured a bucket of paint on his head, it became almost impossible to see through the mask. Another time, they shot paintballs at his head until he left.

There was another memorable incident when something small landed on his head, and the next moment he was attacked by bats.

But today he finally cornered the attacker, it was a child whose face was hidden behind a mask that completely covered his face, and his hair was hidden behind a hood. He slowly approached the boy, he needed to find out who he worked for. Who decided that they had the right to interfere with him punishing criminals.

Only when Batman grabbed the attacker by the shoulder he felt dizzy and then everything around him went dark. Tim quietly patted himself on the head for the backup plan of the backup plan.

After waking up, Batman did not feel calmer, on the contrary, this meeting ignited even more rage in him.

How dare this child run around Gotham so carefree when his son was killed, how dare he protect criminals when one of them killed his son, how dare he..

That day, a file on a new criminal with high priority appeared on the Batcomputer, Alfred only reproachfully pursed his lips.

By the time Red Hood escaped from Talia (Yes, he escaped here, I don't know for sure, but I think Talia was pitting Jason against Tim to ensure her son had direct access to Bruce's legacy). Batman and Tim's confrontations became legendary.

Tim even had his own name and merchandise! Several names, actually, he was called Gotham's Whisperer, the Soul of Shadow, or Little Shadow. And in various Gotham stores you could find little figurines of him with various weapons that he demonstrated during this time.

Nightwing adored the little guy, although he had never met him in person. In fact, no one except Bruce had ever encountered the kid. And although Oracle never officially supported the boy, she never warned Batman if she saw a small dark silhouette through the cameras. Although Dick really wanted to know where the kid got the sniper rifle with tranquilizers, or how he hacked the Batmobile to put a sleeping Bruce in it and send him to the Cave, or how he got so many incriminating photos of Batman that he scattered all over the city when Batman didn't take one of his threats seriously.

Simply put, Nightwing was a fan, and had wanted the kid's autograph ever since the kid evacuated an entire alley, including Bruce, by playing the sound of a pack of rabid dogs approaching.

Batman, though he had passed the peak of his rage, still made Gotham afraid if he was spotted trolling alone.

Red Hood was furious, not only did his father not have the courage to avenge him, but he also dared to splash out his aggression on anyone who was not breathing smoothly on HIS Alley of Crime.

[tsxkkis]

# tsukishima kei - perfect match

a/n: watch me suddenly appear out of nowhere after the school year has finally ended to post something!! i'm sure absolutely no one is surprised that tsukishima is the centre of this fic, but tbh idk how to feel about it (it's definitely longer than my usual ones but i didn't proofread it, so idk if the lenght is an advantage or not) but i hope you'll like it ^^ with school being over for the next two months i'll finally have time to write, so expect more works soon!!

summary: you and tsukishima decide to help your friends get together, but the plan is long forgotten when you realize what your own feelings are.

warnings: nothing really, canon yamayachi (my loves), some light swearing, bad writing

tsukishima kei did not expect any of his friends to bother him in the middle of the night. hell, he didn't even expect any of them to disturb his alone time at all. and yet at exactly 2.34 in the morning, right as he was about to turn off his currently binge watched tv show and go to sleep, he felt his phone buzzing on the nightstand. 

his eyes focused on your name, written in white font on his phone screen, surely shocked by the sight.

'why are you calling me at 2 in the goddamn morni-'

'is yamaguchi interested in anyone?'

your question caught him off-guard even more than the call itself, his brows furrowing in a weirded-out look. 

'if you're asking for yourself, i'm positive that he is not interested.' 

tsukishima heard a sigh of annoyance on the other side of the call and could only imagine the exact look on your face in this very moment. 

'well, thank god, because i'm not asking for myself.' you said. there were muffled sounds of someone preparing food in the background. 'i'm asking for yachi.'

the blonde boy smiled unconsciously.

'he does like her.' the boy stated, turning off his laptop as he put it back on the desk. 'so much so, in fact, that it can be kind of annoying sometimes.'

you squealed with excitement, a giggle leaving your mouth at tsukishima's remark. 

'perfect! now, listen carefully.'

that singular phone call created an alliance between you and kei. an alliance with only one goal; getting your two best friends to finally confess to each other. to both of you, it was almost infuriating how blind they were; how they didn't notice just how obvious it was that they both shared the same feeling. constant blushing at as little as a mention of the other's name, the stolen glances, the very obvious pining - all of it seemed to be non-existent in the eyes of both yamaguchi and yachi.

but lucky for them, you had a plan.

his eyes lingered on you for a few seconds, as if awaiting a sign from you. tsukishima still thought of your 'master plan' as rather silly, but seeing the determination on your face, and the frown that appeared when he called your idea stupid was enough for him to sigh and go with it this once.

the four of you were currently occupied with studying for a math test coming up next week, everyone nose deep in their notebooks. well, everyone except for kei.

the boy cleared his throat almost theatrically, drawing the attention of the three of you.

'yamaguchi, i think i'll have to pass on the movies this weekend.' he said, the tone of his voice as lifeless as ever. 'akiteru insisted that i go to one of his games, so i guess you'll have to take someone else.'

the freckled boy looked a little troubled upon hearing the information. both you and tsukishima were well aware that the tickets to the cinema were already paid for; yamaguchi would definitely be sad if it all went to waste. 

'well, i guess i can ask hina-'

'yachi, didn't you tell me last week that you wanted to go to the movies with someone?' you barged in before the boy could even finish his sentence, your friend freezing in her spot at the mention of a conversation you had not that long ago, cheeks flushed pink at the mere thought of going somewhere with yamaguchi one-on-one. 'maybe you'd fill in for tsukki?' 

the girl glanced at you, panic in her eyes as an awkward silence filled the room, everyone waiting for her to answer. you gave her an encouraging smile, as if trying to non-verbally tell her to go for it, to use this as a chance to get closer to the boy she liked for so long. 

'if yamaguchi doesn't mind...' she mumbled quietly, head turning to face the boy who was already shaking his head. 

'of course i don't.' yamaguchi smiled, his small dimples showing up in the process. 

you glanced over to look at tsukishima, a triumphant smile on your face as if you just won a volleyball tournament. his hair was slightly messy, and his glasses were sliding off his nose, two of the top buttons on his school uniform unbuttoned, showing a bit of his collarbones. surprisingly enough, the blonde boy smiled back; a small, quick smile that your eyes barely noticed. you had no idea what it was, but something about that singular smile made your heart beat faster. 

don't. the main focus of this entire thing is to get yachi and yamaguchi together. not to think of tsukishima and how attractive he looks- 

shit.

developing a crush on tsukishima kei was certainly not part of your plan. 

at first, you tried ignoring it as much as you could, focusing solely on your friends and getting them to date. as time went on and yamaguchi and yachi started getting closer, you almost felt a sense of relief - you could finally stop spending so much time around tsukishima, which made your chances of getting over your stupid crush higher. 

but it wasn't as easy as you thought. tsukishima was intelligent, pretty, and his snarky remarks and judgy personality actually drew you to him even more with each passing day. through the countless conversations and numerous phone calls, he proved himself to be more than just a salty, mean guy that everyone viewed him as.

'soon enough, they won't even need our help.' you mumbled to yourself as you opened your bento box, a smile on your face as you noticed your mom homemade onigiri inside. 'i don't know what i'll do with myself then.'

tsukishima scoffed, closing the textbook in front of him.

'maybe start focusing on your own love life for once.'

'hey! it's not my fault that i'm a good friend.' you stated, mouth full of food, as you looked up at your friend sitting on the opposite side of the table, looking through the tasks assigned for next week. 'besides, it's not like i'm the only one.'

tsukishima adjusted his glasses, looking up at you for a mere second before focusing back on his notebook.

'touché.'

'oh, come on.' you whined out, dissatisfied with the lack of response from the blonde boy. 'you won't miss this even a little bit?'

alright, maybe just a bit-

'no.' tsukishima stated firmly, fixing his posture as he highlighted one of the important sentences written down. you heard a bit of hesitation in his voice, and the few seconds of silence before hearing an answer couldn't help but make you wonder. you decided to ignore it this time - he was focused on something else right now, there was no need to disturb him. 

'do you think yachi will like my outfit?'

tsukishima was sitting at the edge of his best friend's bed, mindlessly scrolling through his phone and occasionally looking up to see the twelfth - no, thirteenth shirt that yamaguchi has tried on already. the boy sighed, turning his device off. 

'it's your first official date, i'm sure she doesn't mind what you wear.' he stated, gaining a frown from yamaguchi.

'you didn't answer my question.'

'alright, i think she'll like it.' the blonde haired boy said, reaching out for a bag of chips, opening it with a loud sound. 'but i'm sure she'll focus more on the date itself rather than what you're wearing.'

ever since announcing to their friends that they're going on their first official date, both yamaguchi and yachi were full of stress, constantly overthinking every little detail from their outfit to whether or not the date will go well or not. tsukishima found it rather comical - it was only a date after all. why stress over it so much? he never went on one, obviously, but he always thought that when the day came, he'd approach it calmly.

'do you have any tips on how to not freak out?' yamaguchi asked suddenly, catching his friend off-guard. 'during the date, i mean.'

'how can i know? i've never gone on one.'

the freckled boy looked at tsukishima, a confused expression on his face as he processed his words.

'oh.' he paused for a second, his voice quieter when he continued speaking. 'i thought you and y/n were, you know, a thing.'

huh?

to say tsukishima was shocked was an understatement. he genuinely had no idea what to say; he never even let a thought of you and him being more than friends, 'partners in crime', as you loved to say, slip through his mind. never did it occur to him that someone from the outside would see your relationship as being something more than a merely platonic one. 

well, maybe there was something to it after all. 

yamaguchi's words made him wonder - although he did find you annoying at times, it was only occasionally and to a very little degree. that in itself was very rare in tsukishima's eyes, as he found most of the people surrounding him at least normally annoying. you, on the other hand, were a completely different case. your jokes, no matter how awkward or downright cringe, made him crack a silent laugh more often than not, and every time he saw you smile, his lips uncontrollably curved up into a small, barely noticeable one themselves. 

'oh, no, absolutely not.' the blonde blurted out after a long minute of silence, the tips of his ears turning a bright shade of red. 'there is not a single bone in my body that would want to date her. now get up idiot, or you'll be late to your date.'

the moment tsukishima opened his bedroom, after walking his friend to the bus stop, he immediately plopped down on his bed, phone in hand, instinctively opening messages to write to you. surprisingly enough, a message was already waiting for him.

'yachi almost cried because of how stressed she is T-T'

'do you think we should spy on them to make sure it all goes well?'

he found himself smiling at the words on his phone screen, quickly typing back an answer. 

'do you really not have a life of your own?'

'idiot.'

only after a few minutes did he get a response from you.

'can i come over?? i'm bored :33'

a harmless message, one might think. in reality, tsukishima was freaking out at the mere thought of hanging out with you for a reason other than setting up your friends, his cheeks a light shade of pink as his eyes kept digging a hole through his phone. 

you weren't any better than him - hands slightly shaky as you awaited a response for what felt like hours, but was actually just a few minutes. you had no idea what took over you; was it a sudden wave of bravery or rather an idiotic spontaneous choice to ask tsukishima that. but nonetheless, when you finally got the response, you felt ecstatic.

'alright.'

'bring some snacks.'

'kei, i think yamaguchi is he- oh, that's certainly a new face.'

you stood in front of the door with an awkward smile, facing tsukishima's older brother, akiteru, his eyes scanning you from head to toe. to say he was surprised was an understatement - he looked as if he'd seen a ghost. as if a friend that's not yamaguchi coming over to tsukishima's house was so out of the ordinary that it could become a national holiday. 

'come in.' the younger male appeared in the back of the hall, an oversized dinosaur shirt and shorts on. his expression was softer than usual; not until he looked at his brother, whom he gave a sharp stare, signaling him to let you inside and don't make such a fuss about it. 

you sat down on his bed, awkward silence filling up the room. not wanting to make the conversation about your friends as per usual, you slowly realized you don't know what to talk about, trying to think of something, anything, as you began unpacking your bag filled with snacks. 

surprisingly enough, it was tsukishima who spoke up first. 

'wanna watch a movie?' he asked, opening his drawer to pull out two bottles of soda, hidden there so that his brother doesn't devour all of them. 'unless it'll make you even more bored than you were before.'

'well, if you have a boring taste in movies-' 

'says the one who looks like their favorite movie is mamma mia.' tsukishima scoffed under his breath, turning his laptop on and starting to search up movies. you looked at him, a dramatic expression as you pretended to be offended. 

'and you look like you're about to mansplain the godfather to me.' 

a short silence filled the room before you heard the blonde boy let out a short, muffled laugh at your comment. 

'you couldn't be more wrong.' he sat down next to you, a small smile still on his face. 'i found it kind of boring, actually.'

'what do you like, then?'

'horror movies.' tsukishima stated, eyes focused on the screen. 'but tadashi gets easily scared, so i often don't have a chance to watch them.'

'same with me and yachi.' you said, unconsciously scooping a bit closer to the boy as you tried to get a better look at what he was searching up. 'i love them, but yachi jumps at every small scare on the screen. sometimes, she even gets scared when there's nothing happening at all.'

'they really do match each other.' he mumbled, putting the laptop on the bed as he pressed play on a movie he chose. his eyes quickly glanced your way to get a nod of approval on his choice.

'yeah, they do.'

and we could, too.

'are you and tsukishima dating?'

you almost spat out your drink, the words coming out of hinata's mouth catching you so off-guard you were close to choking. 

the three of you, along with kageyama, were currently cleaning up after volleyball practice, the boys racing on who would clean more balls off of the floor.

'no, we're not.' you said in a clearly sad tone with an obvious hint of dissatisfaction in your voice. 'what the hell made you think that way?'

the orange haired boy stopped in his tracks, his signature smile disappearing for a minute as he got lost in his own thoughts. 

'oh! i remember now.' he said after a short while, his grin coming back. 'yamaguchi told me that you two are close.'

'he did also mention that he seems happier around you.' kageyama added, joining the conversation. 'seeing tsukishima happy must be pretty scary.'

not really, you thought. but at the same time, what confused you more was what kageyama said right before. 

he seems happier around you.

yamaguchi has been kei's friend for the longest time, so any of his observations must be true, or at least that's what you liked to believe. but would that mean that tsukishima kei, the salty, closed-off guy whom everyone finds intimidating could possibly like you? was there truly a possibility that he enjoyed spending time with you? 

as you finished cleaning up the hall, saying your goodbyes to your two friends who ran off to practice volleyball somewhere else, a familiar, tall figure appeared in the doorframe, sharp eyes staring at you with an expression that you couldn't exactly decipher. 

'want me to walk you home?' he asked, hands in his pockets. 'it's getting late.'

you looked at him, trying to hide the blush creeping up onto your cheeks before quickly nodding as an answer.

'sure, let's go.'

most of the walk was filled with silence on both parts, exactly as you expected. even though it might've felt awkward for some, you did enjoy his presence in itself enough that a conversation wasn't necessary. 

the boy stopped in his tracks mid-way, reaching into his backpack and pulling out his phone and an old pair of white, wired earphones, showing them to you as a silent question of whether you wanted to listen to music with him or not. you agreed without a second thought, a small smile on your face as he put on one of his playlists. 

'i really like this song.' you mumbled, eyes lighting up upon hearing the familiar melody. with both of you wearing the same set of headphones right now, you were practically forced to walk closer to each other - hands constantly brushing against one another, a faint blush on your face as you tried to ignore it and focus on the music. 

tsukishima, on the other hand, couldn't shake away the thoughts roaming around his head. he felt as if what he was doing now was incredibly unlike him; and maybe it was. but for some reason, he didn't mind being like this around you. less cocky, sarcastic, mean and more... gentle.

he could feel his fingers brushing against yours from time to time, and it drove him crazy. should he go for it and play it off nonchalantly, or just ignore it? should he even make the first move or wait for you to do it?

before he was able to decide, tsukishima felt your hand reaching for his, heart rate immediately speeding up as your fingers shyly intertwined with his, looking the other way to hide your anxious expression.

his hand was much bigger than yours, but somehow it fit perfectly with yours. as if they were created solely to hold one another and nothing else. the plan to get your friends to be together was long forgotten by now - your mind was clouded with thoughts of tsukishima only, and little did you know that his wasn't any different. 

you glanced his way only to find his eyes already on you, hiding his true feelings behind a nonchalant look. only now did you notice that the two of you were standing in front of your house, the boy adjusting his glasses as he waited to see what you'll do next. 

'i guess i should go home now.' you mumbled, but you still didn't move an inch, hand not leaving his. 'see you tomorrow?'

his hand squeezed yours tightly before taking it away, an unusually warm and welcoming smile on his face. 

'sure. see you tomorrow, idiot.'

but as you slowly made your way towards the door, tsukishima couldn't shake away the feeling in him, telling him to go for it. and as much as he tried to resist it, he just couldn't anymore. 

'wait.’

before you could fully turn away, tsukishima kei's lips were already on yours, a sweet, long kiss that felt as if he was waiting to do it for years. his hand traveled to your waist and it didn't take long for you to react; lips moving swiftly with his, noses bumping into one another before you pulled away, a giggle escaping your mouth as you saw just how red tsukishima's face was.

‘don't laugh at me, moron.’ he said, immediately catching the reason for your laughter as he flicked you in the forehead. ‘your whole face is red, too.’

‘i didn't expect you to do this.’ you mumbled, eyes focused on his as you reached to hold his hand again. ‘didn't expect my feelings to be mutual, either.’

‘i'm glad we feel the same.’ his face leaned in closer to yours, a wave of confidence taking over him as he placed a short kiss on your forehead. ‘but i would still prefer to properly ask you out. if you'd say yes, that is.’ 

‘of course i would.’ you smiled, ‘i'd be stupid not to.’

‘should we bet on how long it takes the others to realize we're dating now?’ tsukishima smiled at you, eyes not leaving yours for even a spare second. you laughed at his idea, giving his hand a squeeze. 

‘get ready to lose, kei.’

‘you wish.’

taglist: @moonswolfie

[willsdreamgirl]

“morning mr. shelby.” — tommy shelby x reader ⋆｡˚

tommy shelby x fem!reader

you meet tommy as a nurse during the war, but happens when he realizes that he’s known you all along? (loosely based around some s1 plot points, but all set before the war)

18+ minors dni please! angst, fluff and smut

cw: mentions of war, shooting, stabbing, suturing, ptsd, friends to lovers, eventual smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), slight breeding kink

word count: 5.4k+ (sorry lmao)

a/n: ahh first fic alert!! i’m so excited for you guys to read this! don’t be a ghost reader and lmk if you want to be added to my tag list for future tommy/cillian stuff!! 💌

you met tommy shelby during the war. he was a soldier, you were a wartime nurse. before the war, you had obviously heard of him. tommy shelby, leader of the fucking peaky blinders. arrogant bastards.

you lived in small heath, and everyday you’d pass him on the street. and everyday, you’d smile and say, “morning, mr. shelby.” and everyday, he would barely look up at you. you were sure he wasn’t even aware of your existence. prick.

your parents had always told you to stay away from the shelby boys. your dad would say that “they’re dangerous and make whores out of innocent girls” and your mum would make some comment about “the shelby men and their stupid cocks and their stupid judgements”.

they were the most intimidating people in all of small heath, possibly in all of birmingham. truth be told, there was a certain charm to them that you couldn’t shake off. well, to one of them. tommy shelby. you couldn’t tell if it was because he was your age, or because he was powerful and strong, or simply because he was strictly off limits. or because of his piercing blue eyes.

everyone in small heath knew tommy. but you knew tommy. he didn’t know you, though. you could tell if was him by the way he exhaled or by the sound of his footsteps or by the way he held a cigarette in his hand, the peaked cap on his head, a hand in his coat pocket. you despised tommy shelby, but god, was he fucking irresistible.

when men were drafted for the war in france, it was common sense that they’d need someone to tend to their cuts and bruises. you’d decided to volunteer, and after a couple weeks of training, you were right there, in the field. practicing on dolls and bags of rice and flour was nothing compared to what you saw. what you heard.

your first day in france was… eventful, to say the least. some commander had led you to the medical tent, and you were welcomed by the screams of hurt soldiers, blood and panic. you were immediately assigned to a patient, who’d been shot in the chest. you tried your best, did everything you could have, but ultimately, he had just lost too much blood. you didn’t sleep that night, haunted by the bloodshed, by the pleas of the soldier to keep him alive, by the feeling of someone else’s blood on your hands. over time, however, you grew accustomed to having your pristine white uniform soiled with blood and mud.

a month or so after you’d started, you heard shouts outside the tent. “help! someone HELP, for FUCK’s SAKE!” this was a regular occurrence, but the voice the shouts came from didn’t sound wounded. you felt an instinctual need to go see what it was.

what you saw, though, was something you never expected to see. tommy shelby, with a comrade’s head in his lap, putting pressure on a wound in his shoulder. without hesitating, you helped tommy drag the soldier to a vacant bed in the tent. “what happened?” you asked, hurriedly. tommy was visibly panicked. “i- he- um, he got st-stabbed by… one of the germans… his name’s danny- daniel.” you looked in tommy’s eyes, trying to give him some semblance of comfort. “he’ll be okay.” you applied pressure on the wound, and luckily, the blood stopped flowing soon. you cleaned the wound up and looked to tommy. “i’m gonna have to disinfect the wound with alcohol, you might want to hold daniel down for this.” daniel was still delirious from the blood loss, but the pain would be excruciating. tommy braced himself. his hands firmly holding down daniel’s. you nodded before tipping the bottle over on the wound. danny thrashed around on the bed, screaming and cursing, struggling against tommy’s hold. you heard his voice over danny’s. “you’re alright, lad! y’er gonna be fine!”

tommy sat by his friend’s bedside as he came to. you tended to other patients in the meantime but eventually went over to talk to him. “i want to keep him here for the night, mr. shelby. make sure there’s no infection.” he looked at you, surprised you knew him. “you know who i am?” “of course i do, all of small heath knows you. what i didn’t expect was to have a run-in with you, here in france.” he scoffed at his own misery and spoke. “you don’t belong here. you should be home.” you rolled your eyes, even in his state, he managed to be cocky. “if i wasn’t here today, mr. shelby, who would save danny?” that seemed to shut him up. he was about to speak, before you heard your name from the other side of the tent. “y/n, we need you!” after having helped a soldier who looked like he had been mauled, you looked out to see it was nightfall, and tommy had left.

a couple days later, at about noon, john shelby, the youngest of the shelby brothers walked in, clutching his arm tightly. “do you need help, mr. shelby?” you called out. “yes, i-i’ve been shot.” he all but whispered. you rushed over with a tray of distilled alcohol, forceps and bandages. after an afternoon of agony and pain, you had finally managed to pull out the bullet form his arm, john’s face a clear representation of his relief. “oh my god love, if we were home, i’d marry you right now.” you laughed at the proposition. “mr. shelby, i think you’re still a bit delirious from the anaesthesia. besides, i’m your brother’s age.” he looked shocked. “what, you’re arthur’s age? really?? you look nothing like that old prick.” you couldn’t help but laugh yet again. “i’m not that old, jesus. i’m tommy’s age.” he sighed. “marry him then. lord knows he needs a girl.” you giggled as you gathered your things and walked away. “you amuse me far too much, mr. shelby.”

it felt like ages had passed before you saw tommy again. your back was towards the tent entrance but you knew who had walked in. his breath trembled and his footsteps felt a bit unsteady, but it was undoubtedly him. you waited to turn until he called out your name. “y/n, is it?” you turned around, to find his face and shirt covered in blood. “mr. shelby! what happened?” you rushed over to him, taking his hand and sitting his down on a bed. “i- i… killed a man today, y/n.” he looked down, he couldn’t bring himself to look at you. you didn’t respond, simply got up and grabbed a stitching kit and a bowl of warm water. “is all this blood yours?” was your first question. “no. most of it is his.” you sighed and searched his face to find a cut on his cheekbone, the source of his own bleeding. “i’m wiping away the blood now, okay?” tommy gulped and nodded, his eyes still trained on the ground. “mr. shelby, i want you to look at me.” it was as if he didn’t hear you. you spoke again, softer yet more authoritative this time. “tommy. look at me.” he finally brought himself to look into your eyes. in his eyes, you saw guilt, regret and fear. in yours, he saw compassion, love and a warmth that could engulf all his pain. “good.” you whispered. you wrung out a washcloth and began wiping the blood away from his face, using your other hand to hold his chin in place. his arms found themselves wrapped around your waist, in an attempt to ground himself. you didn’t say anything, but your eyes told him that you didn’t mind. in that moment, you saw a different version of tommy shelby. you didn’t see ‘tommy, the criminal’, ‘tommy, the gangster’ or ‘tommy, the womanizer’. you saw tommy, a good man, an honest man. you felt his arms tighten around your waist as you pulled your hands away from his face, as if he was afraid you would dissipate into thin air. “tommy.” you whispered. “i’m gonna have to stich that wound up. it might hurt.” but he didn’t mind pain, not if you were the one inflicting it. “okay.” he spoke, his voice deep. he rubbed circles into your skin with his thumbs, the pain making him hum. “sorry, almost done.” you finished the last stitch. “there. you’re all fixed.” tommy held you like that, his hands around your waist, icy blue eyes staring into yours. your arms rested on his shoulders and you leaned down to whisper to him. “tommy. people are staring.” “so? let them.” eventually, he reluctantly pulled away from you. “it’s time for dinner, and then lights out.” he smiled as he spoke, and slowly exited the tent, catching a glimpse of you as he left.

needless to say, you only grew closer over the next few weeks. you were inseparable. whenever tommy had free time, he’d make his way to the familiar tent, and talk to you. it was wartime. you were left hurt and traumatized and so was he, but you both found solace in each other’s company. you told him how you knew him, and how you’d wish him good morning every day, only to receive complete silence from him each time. he chuckled and apologized. he told you about the peaky blinders, what they did, how they ran their business. you bonded over your shared hunger for knowledge and stories. you told him everything you knew about art, history and literature; and he told you stories of fighting gangs in the streets and stealing contraband. his stories were always more thrilling than yours. you’d try to set each other up with people for fun. you’d introduce him to every nurse, telling them how he was fighting for his country, and of course, they fell prey to his charming eyes and dashing smile. they’d ask what he did back home, and as soon as you said the words ‘gangster’, they’d run in the opposite direction. he’d done the same for you. introduced you to other soldiers, and when you spoke to them, about art and literature, they’d call you ‘unladylike’ or ‘too ambitious for a man’. you both secretly liked it this way, it was like you were his and he was yours.

when he became sergeant major, you both celebrated together. he’d brought you a bottle of whiskey, and you spent the night, talking and giggling drunkenly. but soon, he was assigned to be a sapper and dig tunnels. you both knew that the germans were going to dig their own tunnels, and at some unfortunate point, the tunnels would converge. both of you realized the danger it held, but he had to do it. you tried to talk him out of it, though. “tommy, please!” “y/n, calm down.” “goddamn it tommy, think! you’re gonna get yourself killed! what the fuck are you doing?” “i’ll be alright.” “no, you won’t! what if you get hurt? what if they shoot at you, huh? i won’t be there underground to make sure you’re okay!” “y/n, i have to serve my country. i have to do this.” “tommy. i’m begging you, don’t do this.” he simply sighed and kissed your forehead and held your face in his hands. you held tightly onto his wrists as tears threatened to spill from your eyes. “shhh, i’ll be alright. in fact, i’ll write you.” you seemed to calm down at the idea of him writing you. at least you’d be updated on his condition.

the morning he went down to the tunnels, he came to see you. you were sorting gauze and bandages when you felt his presence near you. you turned around and ran to hug him. he buried his face in your neck and breathed you in. you could feel tears brimming your eyes. neither of you knew why you felt like this. you were just friends, right? “tommy michael shelby, i swear to god if you die, i’ll kill you myself.” you heard him chuckle. he took a step back and caressed your cheek. “you take care, darling.” you wished he wouldn’t leave, but in your heart, you knew he had to. a few hours after, you found a letter tucked under a book on your desk. you curiously pulled it out and opened it.

dearest y/n,

i know how much you hate that i’m going to be a sapper now. i want you to know, no matter what happens down there, i care for you, and i love you, unconditionally. i’ve loved you since the day i first met you. i can’t believe i was looking for love in whores and prostitutes when the love of my fucking life was saying the sweetest good morning to me every morning. i’ll protect myself, and i want you to protect yourself too since i can’t do that for the time being. if we survive this wretched war, i want to take you home, ask your father for your hand and marry you, sweetheart. you take care of yourself, alright?

all my love,

tommy shelby.

you couldn’t help but gasp at what you read. he loved you. tommy shelby loved you. the same tommy shelby that was too arrogant to say a word to you, the same tommy shelby that your parents told you to stay away from, the same tommy shelby was head over heels for you. you immediately looked for a piece of paper, a pen and some ink. you wrote a letter back and sent it with one of the workers heading down to the tunnels. you didn’t know what it was like down there, but you hoped your letters would keep him sane. meanwhile, tommy received your letter and opened it with the same enthusiasm you showed his letter. however, he was also filled with nervous energy. he had confessed his love for you, which was so incredibly out of character for him, but with shaky hands, he proceeded to open the letter.

dearest tommy,

to say that your letter was shocking would be an understatement. i never knew you felt this way for me. like i’ve told you on several occasions, my parents always told me to stay away from ‘your kind’ and as a good catholic girl, i obeyed them. but tommy, in these few months, i’ve seen a side of you i can’t ever forget. i love you too tommy, the real you. the honest, raw, genuine tommy that i get to see on late nights and in random moments on busy days. i’d love to marry you, just make it out alive of that damn tunnel, you prick.

only yours,

y/n.

tommy felt his eyes welling up as he read the words you had penned on the paper. it had been so long since he’d seen you, or heard your voice. he wanted you. he needed you. to keep him stable and sane. as the days passed, your and tommy’s letter exchange became more and more frequent, and you felt like even if you were in this goddamned lawless land of blood and chaos, you had tommy. and he was all you needed.

that was, until the letters slowed down. you kept writing him, but to no avail. he hadn’t sent you a letter in days, or weeks, you weren’t sure anymore. you’d almost lost hope, and spent entire nights grieving him. trying to remember the sound of his voice, the feeling of his hands on your waist, the smell of his cologne. you hadn’t heard his breath or felt his footsteps in a long time. the pain was almost unbearable, and some days felt like decades. but the only thought that kept you going was that you saw tommy in all the wounded soldiers you treated. they were someone’s tommy. and they needed to get home alive.

4 months. 4 whole months since you heard from tommy. you were convinced he was dead now. you spent your days bandaging and stitching wounds, yet you could never fix the wound tommy left in your heart. it was one of the hottest afternoons, the french sun blazing unmercifully. you were insanely busy with patients today, the war was almost ending, and the soldiers needed to be fixed up before they could go home. yet, no sign of tommy. you sighed, cursing yourself for holding out hope now for someone who would not return.

“can i have a nurse here?” you could recognize that damn voice anywhere. the deep voice that filled your ears, smooth like honey, you’d recognize that voice at the end of the world. you turned around. tommy. “hi, love.” he smiled. but his smile quickly changed into a frown when he saw your sobs. you took him to a quieter corner of the tent. you stepped closer to him. he went to put his arms around you. you slapped him across the face. “where. the FUCK were you, thomas michael shelby?!” he was incredibly confused. “l- love, what?” “i thought YOU DIED, YOU BASTARD. where were you?” the time you spent apart had changed you, and from his response, you could tell it clearly changed him. “i was TRYING to fucking STAY ALIVE for YOU.” he raised his voice at you. he never raised his voice. neither of you spoke for a while and tension filled the air between the two of you. “i should leave.” he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. he left, and you let him.

after a few weeks, news broke that britain had won the war, and everyone went home. five years had passed since you last saw the familiar streets of small heath, and you were no longer a girl, but a woman. a woman who needed to get a job to survive in this city. you walked around and saw a flyer on the doors of the garrison. ‘BARMAID NEEDED.’ you walked in to find harry. he looked up pleasantly surprised. “y/n! haven’t seen you in a while, eh? what can i do you for?” “i’m here to get the barmaid job, harry.” he sighed.” y/n, this job isn’t suitable for a girl like you. these men, they’ve just come back from war, they haven’t seen a girl, let alone a pretty one like yourself, in ages. they’ll have you up against a wall within the first hour of your shift.” you looked at him desperately. “harry, please. i need this job, otherwise i’ll be out on the streets, which are surely worse than this pub. i was a nurse in france, i’ve dealt with these men. please?” he sighed again before nodding. “alright then, you start tomorrow.”

your first shift consisted of the usual alcoholics, men with ptsd, everything that was to be expected after a war. you hear the bells at the door ring as the familiar footsteps walk closer to the bar. without turning around, you ask, “what do you want?” he replies, “whiskey, scotc- y/n?” you finally turn around at the sound of your name falling from his lips. “yes, mr. shelby. so, scotch? on the house right?” he leans over so that just the two of you can hear. “don’t mr. shelby me. come on, love, talk to me.” “i have nothing to talk to you about.” as you poured him a glass of whiskey, he held your wrist assertively. “y/n. come.” you rolled your eyes and went to the shelby’s private booth. “what is it that you want, tommy?” “what the fuck do you mean ‘what do i want’? you, i want YOU. i need you. did ya lose your fucking mind in france like danny whiz-bang?” you felt your bottom lip trembling and your throat choking up. “i… i thought y- you were fucking dead. i mourned you. for MONTHS. i grieved over the death of the love of my life. of my future husband. of my future children that i’d have with him. and then, just as i’m making my peace with it, YOU have the fucking audacity to show up? you have some bloody nerve, tommy shelby.” the look in his eyes softened as he took a step closer to you. “no. don’t you dare come any closer to me, tommy, i’ll kill you.” you said, holding up the bottle of whiskey as a weapon. he embraced you, holding you tightly, his fingers stroking your hair. you resisted the hug and tried to push him away, only to find his grip on you getting tighter. “g- get away… from me, p- please… i- just” your voice came out muffled between sobs. tommy felt hot tears rolling down his own cheeks. “shhh, sweetheart. i’m okay, eh? i’m fine. i’m here, with you.” you dropped the bottle you were holding and it shattered into a million pieces on the ground. you stood there in his arms, crying for what felt like an eternity. you finally pulled away from him, and he wiped your tears with his thumbs. you laughed, but then lightly slapped his arm. “you scare me like that again, tommy, i swear i’ll kill ya.” “i’ll hold you to it, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead, and you rested your forehead against his. he tentatively closed the gap between your lips and his, and you pulled him by the collar and kissed him with enough force to make him trip and fall. he managed to stay steady and kissed you back with equal fervour. he spoke between kisses. “i *kiss* spent *kiss* every *kiss* second *kiss* thinking *kiss* of you.” you giggled. “i missed you too, tommy.”

he told harry that you’d be leaving the bar early that day, and dragged you out the bar while holding your hand, a smile on his face for the first time in a long time. “the great thomas shelby isn’t embarrassed to have a barmaid as his girlfriend?” you giggled. “never. and those who think i should be embarrassed can suck me cock.” he spoke proudly. he opened the car door for you, and you sat inside and waited for him to turn the ignition on. “where are we going, tommy?” “i want you to meet my family, love.” during the countless hours you spent together chatting, he told you about his family’s idiosyncrasies and stories about them. how arthur needed to be protected the most during fights because he was just as likely to hurt himself as he was to hurt someone else, how aunty pol’s instincts about love were never wrong, how john once fell in love with a prostitute and everyone laughed at him, how ada was the most rebellious and married a communist (who happened to be in of his best mates), and how finn always pretended to act like tommy, doing whatever his big brother did. you were excited to meet them of course, but anxious. they would be your family one day too.

he held your hand as he brought you in, everyone sitting around a table waiting for him. “does everyone just sit together like this?” you asked. “uh, no i called a family meeting for 3 pm.” tommy replied simply. “how did you know you’d be able to have me here by 3?” he winked at you. “i have my ways. and i know how much you love me.” he spoke in a singsong voice. you rolled your eyes at his schoolboy behaviour and waited for him to speak. “shelby’s, this is my girlfriend and soon to be fiancé, y/n.” he held his arm around your waist proudly, and you leaned up to kiss his cheek. you recognized arthur and john immediately from your time in the war. you assumed that the older woman was aunt polly, and the younger with the baby in her arms would be ada, leaving the youngest member of the family, finn. john came up to talk to you first, while tommy spoke with polly. “you know i didn’t really mean the ‘marry tommy’ thing?” you laughed as you replied, “i didn’t either, but fate works in weird ways, eh?” he agreed with you before talking to tommy. arthur was the next one to see you. “you and tommy, eh? if it wasn’t for the war, you two would probably never have met. i s’pose war isn’t all bad then.” “perhaps you’re right. i did find your brother to be arrogant before the war.” “that he is, y/n. that he is.” both of you looked over at him, engaged in conversation with everyone else. you fussed over the baby in ada’s arms. “awww, he’s precious! what’s his name?” “karl, after karl marx.” you shot her a look. “it’s unconventional, i know. but freddie really wanted it.” “it’s lovely.” finn rushed over to you and kissed your hand. you gushed exaggeratedly. “what a gentleman you are, finn!” “if tommy wasn’t here, you’d be my girlfriend, miss y/n.” you laughed at his childishness and ruffled his hair. “sure i would, finn.” the only person you hadn’t spoken to yet was aunt polly, arguably the most intimidating person of the family. “i have one question for you, y/n. how you answer it will determine if you’re fit for being a shelby. how do you think i kept this business up and running during the war?” you felt put on the spot but tried your best to answer. “um, well, to be quite frank, i’ve believed that women are better at business anyway. we know how to settle deals with whiskey and not fists or guns. and you seem like twice the man than most men i know anyway.” her lips twitched up into a smile as she looked to tommy. “oh, i like her already.” he held your hand in hers, and addressed tommy. “she seems like a lovely girl, do not fuck this up tommy.” tommy shook his head and laughed. “i’ll try, pol. i’ll try.”

you ate dinner with the shelby’s before you headed up to his house. “you sure you don’t want me to walk you home?” he asked for the hundredth time that night. “no tommy, i’m perfectly content spending the night with you. unless you’d like me to leave?” you questioned. “no no, stay, please!” he said, almost pleadingly. you looked around his bedroom when you reached his home. it was obviously a house, but it didn’t feel like a home. you frowned at your observation. “what’s wrong, y/n?” “this house isn’t a home yet, tommy.” “that’s because i want my first home to be with you. with our children. and as far as i’m concerned, you are my home.”

“care to dance?” he asked, holding out his hand. you looked at the gramophone in the corner. “that doesn’t look like it works, love.” you placed your hand in his. “so what? we can dance without music.” he said, holding your waist close to him, your hand on his shoulder. you leaned your head on his shoulder, both of you dancing in the silence, listening to the sound of each other’s breathing. “kiss me, tommy.” you whispered. he obeyed probably for the first time in his life and kissed your soft lips.

things escalated and you were now on tommy’s bed, tracing the sun tattoo on his chest, with him on top of you. “fuck me, tommy, please.” “your cunt wants this cock?” he growled. you moaned in his ear. “fuck, yes tommy, make me yours.” he stretched you out in the most blissful way. of course, you had used your fingers before, but nothing could replace the feeling of his cock. “god, please!” you moaned out, words slowly turning into incoherent sounds. tommy chuckled. “god can’t hear you now, sweetheart. not here.” he pistoned his hips into you just right and it wasn’t long before he found the spot inside you that made you scream. “t- tommy fuck! right there, please don’t stop!” “i wouldn’t dream of stopping, darling. my girl, so pretty all spread out for me. take it, love. take that cock.” the feeling of your impending orgasm coursed through your entire body, making you writhe in pleasure. “god, i’m so close tommy!” “good fucking girl.” his hand reached down to rub circles on your clit while he fucked you so good. “oh god, tommy, i’m not gonna be able to walk tomorrow…” “that’s the plan, sweetheart.” he spoke as he kissed hickeys on your neck, matching the ones you’d given him earlier. “come on love, make a mess on my cock.” as soon as he said that, you felt yourself falling apart, the tight band in your stomach snapping, uncontrollable moans of his name falling from your lips. “thank you tommy, thank you so much.” you moaned, drunk on the feeling of his cock inside you. “such an angel. who do you belong to, sweets?” he said, still pounding your cunt. “y- you, tommy. i belong to you!” “that’s right, sweetheart.” he whispered in your ear, “i love you, darling.” you moaned as you felt your second orgasm approaching. “tommy, fuck! i- i love you too!” “god i’m gonna cum inside you! you’d like that, eh? me getting you pregnant, all nice and round with my baby?” you felt your orgasm pulsing through you at his words. “yes, tommy! fill my womb up, please! i need it!” you heard tommy’s loud moans as he came inside you. “oh, such a good girl. took my cock so well, love.” tommy stayed on top of you for a while, his cock still inside you. “i’ve wanted to do that for five fucking years.” he spoke, voice muffled since his head was buried between your tits. you laughed, but the laughs quickly turned to moans as your sensitive cunt felt friction from tommy’s cock rubbing up against its walls. he pulled out of you slowly, watching his seed spill out of you. he eventually got up to get a warm washcloth and a glass of water for you. you drank the water as he cleaned you and himself up and pulled you into his chest. you pulled the covers over both of you, feeling your body flush against his. “that was amazing tommy, thank you.” “the pleasure is all mine, sweetheart.” he kissed your forehead.

ever since tommy came back from france, he had these recurring nightmares every night. of his time in the tunnels. the germans. his comrades. how he had to kill people with his bare hands. he could still hear the shovels digging the tunnels when he closed his eyes. when he was with you though, he could finally fall asleep. or so he thought.

you were awoken in the middle of the night by the sounds of a gasping tommy, suddenly sitting up. you felt groggy for a moment, having just woken up, but quickly sprung into action. you sat next to him, rubbing his back. “tommy, what’s wrong?” he didn’t speak. but he didn’t need to. you’d seen enough cases of ptsd from your time in the war to know what was happening to him. “you still see it, eh?” he only nodded. you laid back down and pulled him into your chest. he protested. “what are y-” “shut up.” you could tell, he was still a bit frantic, his breath still heavy. you spoke to him in a soft tone and you played with his fingers, his head on your chest. “listen to me. listen to the sound of my voice. feel my body against yours. you are home. you are safe. the war is over. the nightmares are just parts of your mind trying to scare you. but you’re stronger than that, eh? i’m here with you, and you don’t need to be scared. alright? i’m here with you, always.” he hummed, heavy eyelids slowly closing shut. being able to smell the scent of your perfume helped ground him. “good job, tommy. now sleep. i’ll be here with you when you wake up.” you managed to get him to go to sleep, but somehow convinced your mind to let you sleep light enough that if tommy were to have another nightmare, you’d be up immediately. fortunately, he didn’t wake up during the night.

he woke up to the sight of a sleeping you, the sun rays hitting you just right. he swore he could look at you forever. you felt his gaze on you and slowly opened your eyes. “how’d you sleep?” you asked. “like i hadn’t slept in years.” he replied.

“morning, mr. shelby.” you wished him, as you did, every day before the war. except this time, you were in his arms, in his bed. you kissed his lips softly. except this time, he finally wished you back.

“mornin’, sweetheart.”

[devilander]

a mirror in half-light

18+ 1.5k. homelander x supe f!reader. blood, dirty talking, cunnilingus, use of telepathic powers, acts of violence mentioned (not between reader and HL)

From someone so concerned with shielding his mind, Homelander quickly comes to appreciate your telephatic powers and how useful they can be. Especially during a boring Seven meeting.

prompt sent by @infinetlyforgotten, thank you so much 🤍

When you were first introduced to the Seven, many, including your new colleagues, compared you to Mindstorm. Sure, there were some similarities—the ability to see a person’s thoughts or to project specific images. But that’s where it ended. 

The ace up to your sleeve, which distinguishes you and earned your supe name as Quickstep, is both your telepathic precognition, giving you leverage in hand to hand combat, and your crown and glory—possession. Supe or non-supes, all could have their minds hijacked by you; an ability Vought decided not to publicize. 

Your fellow partners in fighting crime knew, though; and from day one you could feel Homelander watching you with suspicion, a stare so filled with distaste your knees almost buckled. 

Seeing you in a corridor, Homelander signaled for you to approach.

“Quickstep,” he sneered, invading your personal space until he towered over you and your neck ached from looking so high up. “If I catch you using your little powers on me, be sure I’ll crack your spine. It’ll be easier than stomping on an ant. Got it?” His sudden artificial smile did nothing to lessen the weight of his words. 

Homelander was your hero, always, since childhood. Not only that, ever since you saw him for the first time, the shining blue eyes, the softness of his blonde hair, that commanding voice... You were a goner. And he most certainly knew. The disappointment almost, almost broke your heart. 

Little by little, however, with the unspoken promise you wouldn’t pry on his mind, you’d grown close. Partners in fighting crime, yeah, of course, but you had his back, no matter what. 

In one of your missions together, Homelander smeared in an innocent’s blood from head to toe, your first instinct was to help him—clean the mess. And you couldn’t lie, him in his violence and brutality did something to you. 

“Hey, you,” you murmured. “Let me help you, okay? Let me take care of it. Let me protect you.”

Surprisingly, he acquiesced. It took no more than minutes to possess the mind of some poor bystanders, having them fight and commit atrocious acts; they wouldn’t know what came over them and Vought would be too happy not to disclose. In quick action, the narrative changed; from rabid supe, to terrorist crowd. 

Later, you found yourself in his penthouse, in his bathtub, naked and cleaning the gore as he squeezed your waist. When you sealed your relationship with a bloodied kiss, you knew there was no turning back—and you loved it. Loved his quirks, his humor, his beautiful nose and soft hair, loved his flaws and all that came with it. Loved the tie that bound you forever. 

“I love you. I love you so much,” you whispered in his ear as you lay in his bed, a few hours before your meeting with the rest of the Seven. “I ache for you all the time. It overflows, sometimes.” You giggled, remembering when your desire burned you so passionately, so intensely, your mind had one focal point: Homelander and what he could do to your body. Without realizing, all your wants and needs were suddenly projected on his mind.

In the first time, you were fearful he’d throw a fit, but he simply grinned devilish at you. 

“Wow,” he laughed. “If I’d known more about your dirty little mind I would have put it to use a long time ago, babe.” 

After that, it became a fixture, in bed, in daily moments where voicing your thoughts wasn’t an option, or in missions when silent communication was useful. And bit by bit, he delighted in it, veritable proof of your devotion and love.

As it were, in this stolen moment, cuddled in his bed, he answered. “And I love you, my darling, My own mirror.” He nuzzled your neck. “No need to scream in my mind, I’m gonna eat your pretty pussy until you beg me to stop.” 

“I’d never,” you said breathily. 

Slowly kissing from your collarbone, to your stomach and thighs, mischievously looking you in the eye as he bit and kissed and licked everywhere around your cunt. His strength was enough to keep you in the exact place he wanted. Such a delicious torture. 

Finally he turned his attention to your clit, dragging his tongue over it in elaborate patterns—he was relentless, and you both moaned at the contact. You were loud, thrashing and screaming at the slightest touch, but only for him. He played your body perfectly. 

Your hands found his hair, soft to the touch, and yanked, wanting him closer and he groaned—the vibrations going straight to your core. Soon he started tongue-fucking, just as you liked it, going deep and slow, alternating to trace your slit from your asshole to your clit; not one part of you ignored. 

“Fuck, you taste so good. You’re fucking made for me, your pussy is mine, mine, understand that?”

“It’s yours! It’s all yours. Please, Homelander, please—”

“Please what?”

“Let me come, let me come in your mouth, I want to feel you.” It was all too much, the mess his tongue made, the wetness running down your pussy and dripping in the mattress.

Moaning, he plunged two fingers deep inside you, as he squeezed your ass, bringing you even closer. You cried from the pleasure he woke in you, and even in this madness you caressed his hair, closing your legs until he was in the position you liked most: with a perfect view of his face, his soft locks, his bright eyes. 

He smirked, squeezing you tighter, until you no longer touched the bed, and he slapped your ass so hard your whole body trembled. 

“Like that, princess? Like when I do whatever the fuck I want with your sweet body? Now show me. Show me what you want.” 

You complied instantly. 

You imagined him feasting on your pussy, licking it all until his spit and your slick became one and the same. His fingers marking your ass, your thighs; biting so deeply even your invulnerable skin would cleave to his superior strength. You wanted his tongue deep inside you, for yours on end, fucking your pussy so good your legs would spasm and you would scream for all the Tower to hear, pussy clenching just the way he liked. You wanted it all—Homelander slurping on your clit and swirling his tongue, making you squirt and swallowing it all, leaving his chin a beautiful fucking mess. 

In the aftermath, body boneless and exhausted, you wanted his fingers, for him to drag it all over your juices and make you swallow and gag on it. Then, in a little tenderness, he'd give you a breathtaking kiss, further proof of your intimate lovemaking. 

As you projected all of this on his mind, his smile grew bigger, more wicked. And you knew he'd deliver it, or even more. 

“You really are such a slut.” You giggled; it was all in the game.

Later on, as all the Seven were debating their latest terrorist attack, and what plan they'd need to put in action, all you could think was Homelander. His hands on you, his tongue lapping at your clit and his disheveled hair—which, you noticed, he didn't fix for the meeting. It wasn't fair, he was too mean at taunting you.

You couldn't keep your eyes off of him and he knew. Flashes of your morning together ran through your mind. No matter how satisfied you'd been, you wanted more, again, all the time. You wanted his kisses and devastation, his head between your legs and his mouth both teasing and giving you the most world-shattering pleasure. 

You wanted to caress his hair, your newfound obsession, while he fucked you, hiting that sweet spot and filling you up with his come.

In your daydreams, you tuned out from the conversation, and like being burned you found Homelander staring straight at you, an expression oh so familiar. Unintentionally he'd become the spectator of your fantasies. 

Rising from his chair so quickly you barely caught it, Homelander said, “That's enough for today. I have other things to take care of. Quickstep, you stay.”

Whispers of complaint were quickly shut down, as Homelander glared at them until each and everyone left the room.

“Well, well, seems like someone is still wantin' for more.”

He laid his hands on your chair, then turned it so you were face to face. 

“I couldn't help it,” you smirked. “I can't get enough.”

“But that's not fair, don't you think?" He clucked his tongue. "It's your turn to please me.” He pulled you from the chair, and manhandled you until you fell to your knees with a thud. “Now, princess, get to work.”

[couldnt-think-of-a-funny-name]

random percy headcanons:

wants to be the photographer friend SO bad and he technically is but like 70% of the pics come out blurry or weird bc there was a monster attack in the middle of them. his instagram is truly so chaotic looking.

literally always has seashells on him someone will ask him for a pencil or spare change and he has to empty all his pockets of shells to find it. drops his backpack and a bunch of shells fall out. kicks his shoes off and sand and shells fly out and his mortal friends are like percy What the Fuck

his eyes glow underwater!! bioluminescent king. no one told him though and he didn't find out until he joined his school's swim team and terrified everyone (he managed to convince them his contacts were having a weird reaction to chlorine lmao)

he really likes art!! he doesn't just pretend to for rachel's sake he genuinely enjoys painting with her. he likes splatter paint, collages and pop art styles the best. one day after splitting some edibles they realized percy could manipulate water colors and went CRAZY with it

will ask to be excused during class and comes back like an hour later with scorch marks all over his face bleeding from one of his ears covered in dust missing three fingernails rips in his jeans and a fat lip and the teacher is like percy what the actual hell were you doing in the bathroom all this time and he's just like uhhhhhh I have ibs

the brand from camp jupiter did unfortunately (for sally) Unlock something in him lmfao he keeps getting shitty little tattoos. usually stick-n-poke but someone's friends cousin's girlfriend's brother has a gun that gets brought to parties every now and then. most of them are sloppy but you can tell what they are HOWEVER he has one that was supposed to be a seal that came out looking like one of those shitty ms paint crying memes. annabeth laughed at him for ten minutes straight when she saw it.

he wanted to dye his hair blue but he was too chicken to bleach his entire head so he just did the tips. his hair is curly though so it looks absolutely ridiculous but he loves it

percy and annabeth get a crusty little yappy white dog in college and he carries it around like a baby lmao

back to his chaotic instagram, he's got so many pics of him like, relaxing at the bottom of the mariana trench or hugging a giant squid or riding on a whale shark and his mortal friends all think he's just really good at photoshop and this is a very specific bit he decided to commit to. they're always like lol percy where do you even FIND these pictures are you subscribed to like scientific journals for the laughs? but no he just took them all on his shell phone

has an ongoing prank war with annabeth's little brothers bobby and matthew but like it's Unhinged. they're playing 5D chess and she has no idea whats going on

weird tshirts!!! he loves them! like

shit like this or those 'women want me fish fear me' shirts, anything with a funny or incomprehensible slogan is going in his closet right along with his band tees lmfao

bought estelle a panda pillow pet when she was born 🥺

can NOT bring himself to eat seafood no matter how many times poseidon has told him its fine. he's like NO these are my FRIENDS JONATHAN WAS TELLING ME ABOUT HIS GRANDDAUGHTERS WEDDING LITERALLY YESTERDAY WHY IS HE ON A PLATTER DAD. they had to give up and just start eating normal land food at the palace every time he comes to visit lmfao

gets into horsegirl antics with hazel she NEEDS to know everything the horses have to say. they spend hours gossiping in the stables.

movie nights in the poseidon cabin were 10000% a thing and when he was missing annabeth and thalia and grover (and a few others) would still sleep in there every now and then and talk about how much they miss him :(

percy and beckendorf had the worlds most elaborate handshake

he DOES impulse buy stuff just because they're ocean-themed. stuffed animals, home decor, school supplies, clothes, you name it he bought it if theres like a fish on it

has more scars from crashing off his skateboard than he does from monster attacks

grover is somehow the only person who's ever noticed percy is severely claustrophobic

has a deep passion for adele. I can't explain this one I just feel and know it to be true.

he and annabeth both proposed to each other at the same time and they were SO mad about it they kept yelling over each other's speeches lmao

he can SING but he doesn't know it. sally keeps trying to record him singing to himself but something always happens to the camera and she loses the evidence

called chiron a brony one time and mr d thought it was so funny he was nice to percy for an entire week

the camp keeps trying to convince him to teach sword fighting lessons to the younger kids but he can NOT bring himself to swing a sword at a 9 year old so he keeps getting injured

has the most complicated iced coffee order in the world his go-to local coffee shop finally just put the damn drink on the menu and named it after him

he IS the quiet kid in the back of your math class that always has his hood up to try and hide his headphones and eats increasingly elaborate meals out of his backpack when the teacher isn't looking. one time someone caught him with a rotisserie chicken in the middle of a geometry final.

he argued that he DID have enough to share with the class

currently obsessed with the image of him knocking back a container of sea salt as if it was a shot and his mortal friends being like hey! what the actual fuck! and he's just like uhhhhh anemia kills!

its his birthday<3