#around the same time where they talk about killing the tempered

[berryzawati]

Thancred sees the adventurer in a new light...

[raspberryzingaaa]

Thinking about going to World Most Boring Bible Study Ever. Idk yall. Idk. Idek.

[trashytracktales]

AND softdom lando with slightly unexperienced reader!!!! kill me nowwwe it cannot live only in my head

Nothing less | LN⁴

💌 INSPIRED by anon ──── No, cause you know what, anon? Let me do something about it real quick (I changed some things around on purpose, because I either go hard or go home lmao). ENJOY 💋

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𐙚 summary ──── It's their first time together, and Lando takes the lead, ensuring every touch and word is focused on her comfort and pleasure.

𐙚 pairing ──── Lando Norris x virgin!reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 catetegory ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, mature/sexual content, reader's first time, new relationship dynamics, soft dom!Lando, fluff & smut, descriptive language, swearing, unprotected sex, subtle exploration of emotional and physical trust in an intimate setting.

𐙚 word count ──── 2.8k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 26, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── Gentle reminder that I know I have a lot of requests I need to take care of, and they are going to be dealt with, slowly but surely. Thank you for your patience 😁🤍

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SHE THINKS SHE should tell him, but she doesn’t know him well enough to be sure that Lando isn’t easily scared — or worse, that he wouldn’t walk out on her the second her little secret gets out.

They’ve only been dating for two weeks, but somehow it feels longer than that. Obviously, they’ve talked about sex before — casually, the way new couples do when everything still feels exciting and full of possibilities. But she never told him outright that she’s a virgin. He never specifically asked, and she didn’t see a way to bring it up without making things awkward.

In the midst of her chaotic thoughts, two things are certain: 1) she doesn’t want to ruin the moment, and 2) there’s no doubt he likes her. She sees it in the way Lando looks at her, and she feels it in the way his hands touch her: sometimes by accident, other times with intent.

That's why she doesn’t want to burden him with expectations or make him feel like he has to change to meet some unspoken standard. She wants him as he is: unfiltered, imperfect, and real.

It's almost midnight, and the room is drenched in a quiet intimacy, the only sound coming from the muted hum of the city outside. Lando sits on the edge of the bed, his fingers brushing against hers with deliberate slowness. The soft golden glow of the bedside lamp illuminates his face, accentuating the way his lips curve into a smile that’s equal parts teasing and tender.

“You’ve been quiet,” he murmurs, his voice a smooth drawl that makes her stomach flip. His thumb strokes over her palm, coaxing her to meet his gaze. “That nervous?”

Her breath catches in her throat, feeling it closing in from the inside, but she nods, not trusting her voice.

“That’s okay, baby,” says Lando gently, leaning in. The warmth of his breath fans against her skin as his lips ghost over her jawline. “I want to take care of you. Can I do that?”

She nods again, her heart thudding against her rib. But the way Lando is looking at her, like she’s the only thing that matters, eases some of the tension coiling in her chest.

She really thinks that she should tell him—

“Words, love,” he interrupts her thoughts, his tone soft yet firm. Lando's hand tilts her chin up so she’s looking directly at him. “I need to hear you, so I know we're on the same page.”

“Yes, Lando,” she replies back, his name dripping from her mouth like honey. “I want this with you.”

His smile widens, but there’s a flicker of something deeper in his eyes — desire tempered with a bit of restraint. “Sweet girl,” he says softly, the praise rolling off his tongue like a caress.

She closes her eyes, the words making her cheeks flush, but they also spark something inside her, a yearning she’s never felt so acutely before.

The air between them feels charged with so much expectancy. She knows where this is heading, can feel it in the way his eyes linger on hers, in the heat of his touch that seems to burn through her skin. The thought alone forces a wave of excitement rolling through her. At that, her body reacts before her mind catches up — her breaths quicken, her thighs press together instinctively, and a warm, insistent ache blooms low in her belly. She’s wet already, just from the anticipation, her thoughts spiraling into images of Lando gasping for air above her.

She shakes her head to push those thoughts away, just as he pulls her closer, his hands steady and confident as they frame her face. When he kisses her, his lips are so soft, moving against hers in a way that leaves no room for doubt. He’s in control, but he’s also completely attuned to her.

“If you need me to stop,” he says against her lips, “If anything feels wrong, just tell me, and we'll talk about it. Gonna need your words for this, yeah?” he continues as she nods again, making Lando puff out a small giggle, “What did I say?”

Words. Right.

“I promise I'll tell you,” she says, her voice tinged with nervousness.

He hums in approval, his hands sliding down to her waist. He moves her gently, guiding her to lie back on the bed as he leans over her. His movements are measured, his touch firm but never overwhelming. When his hands skim beneath her shirt, she tenses for a moment, squeezing her eyes shut, and Lando immediately freezes.

“Hey,” he says softly, his brow furrowing in concern. “Too much?”

“No,” she says quickly, her cheeks flushing. “I just— I’ve nev—”

He doesn’t let her finish. His thumb strokes soothing circles against her hip as he leans down to kiss her again, silencing her nervous stammer.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “We’ll go slow, alright? You and I. Just trust me.”

His words are like a balm, and she finds herself relaxing under his touch. He takes his time removing her shirt, his eyes never leaving hers as if to reassure her with every move.

“You’re fucking stunning,” he says, his voice low and reverent.

Her hands tremble slightly as she reaches for him, and he lets her take the lead for a moment, watching her with a quiet intensity as she unbuttons his shirt. She fumbles slightly, and he chuckles, the sound soft and warm.

“Relax, love. It’s just me,” he says, leaning down to kiss her temple; a small act of tenderness that somehow steadies her racing heart.

The warmth of his lips lingers, grounding her in the moment as her nerves begin to settle. When there's no barrier left between them, Lando's hands explore her body patiently, every touch giving her goosebumps. Then, his fingers travel lower, slipping between her legs, and he freezes in place, his breath hitching.

“Ah, shit,” he mumbles mostly to himself, almost in awe when he realizes how much of a mess she is already. “So eager, you're soaked. I could just slip right in.”

The words send a bolt of heat through her, a mix of embarrassment and excitement, but they also give her enough courage to take action. Summoning all her nerve, she reaches for him, wrapping her fingers around his cock with a tentative but determined grip.

She guides him to her entrance, her voice quiet but impatient as she whispers, “Then do it.”

Suddenly, that's more than enough for Lando to let his instincts take over.

He exhales sharply as he pushes forward, the heat of her drawing him in inch by inch. The sensation of her wrapped around his length nearly undoes him — soft, tight, and impossibly warm. His jaw clenches as he stills for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He presses his forehead to hers, his voice strained but tender.

“So damn tight around me, baby,” he gasps softly, his hand coming to rest on her hip. “How's it on your end? Can I move?”

She nods quickly, her hands gripping his shoulders as she adjusts to the sweet stretch. “It’s—”

Good. Perfect. Heaven.

“Didn’t feel as big in my hand,” she ends up saying, making Lando laugh in a high-pitched voice.

“Not sure weather it's a compliment or an insult,” he admits, amused.

“Just give me a sec,” she whispers, though there’s a slight trace of uncertainty in her tone.

His thumb begins to stroke soothing circles on her hip, and he kisses the corner of her mouth. “Take your time, baby. I’m not going anywhere,” he reassures her.

She lets out a shaky breath, her body gradually relaxing around him. With one hand, she traces the contours of Lando's face, studying every micro expression, every mole, and the way his breath hitches as she welcomes him in.

“You're perfect,” she says softly, her cheeks flushed with warmth. “Can you fuck me now?”

Lando whines, pulling back slightly before easing forward again, setting a slow, careful rhythm. The friction is intense, almost overwhelming, and he groans quietly, his grip on her hips tightening just a fraction.

Her lips part as a soft moan escapes her, and she tilts her head back, instinctively pushing her hips to meet his movements. “Lando,” she breathes, her voice a mix of need and disbelief.

He pauses for a moment, his eyes searching hers. “Yes, that’s it,” he encourages, his tone laced with affection. “Tell me what you like, what feels good. Let me hear you, baby.”

“You,” she manages, her fingers threading through his hair. “It feels so—You feel so good. All of it, please.”

The corners of his mouth raise into a small, breathless smile. “Such a good girl, aren't you?” he praises, leaning down to kiss her neck as he resumes his thrusts. “You’re doing so well for me.”

Her nails dig lightly into his back, her confidence growing with each movement.

“Faster,” she whispers, her voice trembling with a foreign desire.

His brows raise slightly as he slows down, just to tease her. “Faster? You sure about that?” he asks, his voice taking on a playful edge.

“Lando,” she repeats his name, louder this time, her hips rolling against his.

“You want it that bad?” he says in slight disbelief, his movements speeding up just enough to draw a louder moan from her. Lando studies her closely, his gaze softening even as his control threatens to slip. “Look at you, fuck. Let me take care of you. Let me—”

He swallows his words as his starts thrusting into her, firmly but never rough, his touch always calibrated to her responses.

“God, you’re taking me so well,” he says, his lips brushing against her ear. “So hot and tight around me. Feels right, hm?”

Her breathing quickens at his words, her body responding in ways she doesn’t fully understand but craves nonetheless. His hands trail lower, and she arches into him instinctively, another whimper escaping her lips.

“I know, baby,” he says, his voice thick with approval. “Keep me inside.”

Lando’s rhythm falters, then slows to an almost torturous pace. Before she can question it, he drags his cock out of her entirely, leaving her pussy clenching around nothing. A cry slips from her lips, desperate and aching, but he doesn’t give her time to protest. His length glides up between her slick, puffy folds, spreading the wetness everywhere, his movements calculated and teasing.

Not to mention evil.

“Lan...” she whines, her nails digging into his back as frustration and need overwhelm her. She isn’t gentle, her fingers pressing hard enough to sting, and he lets out a low hiss.

At the sudden pain, Lando stops entirely, his eyes snapping to hers, dark and intense. “Careful, baby,” he warns, his tone soft but laced with authority.

Sitting up slightly, he reaches for a pillow, lifting her hips with ease and sliding it beneath her lower back. When he thrusts back into her, it’s maddeningly slow, as if he wants her to feel everything. His hand moves to her stomach, pressing down lightly as he fucks his cock inside her. The sensation sends shockwaves through her body, and she cries out, her voice high and pleading as the pressure amplifies the pleasure.

“Feel that?” he asks, his voice rough with arousal. “Feel how deep I am?”

She can only nod, tightening her legs around him, her body trembling as she grips the sheets for support. But curiosity and the overwhelming sensations push her to rise onto her elbows, needing to see what he’s doing to her. Her gaze drops to where their bodies meet, and that’s when she sees it — the way her lower abdomen rises and falls slightly with each of his deep, measured thrusts.

Her breath catches, her eyes widening in awe. “Oh my God,” she whispers, her voice trembling. “Is that…?”

Lando notices her reaction immediately, his own gaze following hers. The corner of his mouth curves into a smirk, but his eyes burn with something primal. “Fucking hell,” he murmurs, tightening his hands around her waist, holding her steady. “Yeah, that’s me inside you.”

The realization sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through her, and Lando seems to sense it. His grip on her waist tightens further, and he begins to move harder, his hips snapping against hers with a rhythm that’s still controlled but far more intense.

The room fills with the slik sound of her pussy as Lando thrusts in and out relentlessly, and her moans grow louder, her body arching into him.

“Let me feel you,” he growls, his voice deep. “Let go, baby. Let me feel you,” he repeats, over and over again.

She wraps her arms around Lando, pulling him closer to have something to support her. The way her pussy sucks at his cock, desperate and insistent, sends him careening over the edge before he can even process it.

“Oh, fuck,” he hisses, his voice breaking as his hips stutter, spilling into her with a throaty moan. He can get drunk on the way she grips him, her heat, her hunger — every part of her pulling him into pure bliss.

His forehead drops to hers, their shared breaths mingling as they pant and moan together, riding out every wave of pleasure as they hit.

Her nails are still buried in his back, the sharp sting blending with the pleasure coursing through him. He winces but doesn’t stop, his body shuddering as her walls flutter around his cock, milking every last bit of him. They’re locked together, shaking, until the pleasure ebbs into a warm, lingering buzz.

After that, Lando finally stills inside her, his body softening, his arms wrapped tightly around her as he rests his weight against her. Only then does the sharp sting on his back pull his attention, and he lets out a low chuckle, his voice rough and spent.

“You really dug in, didn’t you?” he teases, his tone affectionate as he lifts his head to look at her. The corners of his mouth twitch into a smirk despite the ache in his muscles.

Her face flushes with embarrassment, her hands slipping away from his back, burying into his hair instead. “Sorry,” she whispers, avoiding to look at him.

“Don’t be,” he replies, his gaze soft and adoring. “It was worth it.”

Before she can add something else, Lando leans down, his lips finding hers in a kiss that’s the opposite of tender. It’s a stark contrast to the raw intensity they just shared, and a quiet reassurance that he’s still fully present with her. His hand cups her cheek, thumb brushing against her flushed skin as he deepens the kiss, savoring her.

When they finally break apart, their foreheads rest together again, their breathing still uneven but calming. “You okay?” he asks softly, his eyes searching hers.

She nods, a small, blissful smile tugging at her lips.

“Hey, don't go non-verbal on me again,” he whispers, brushing a strand of hair from her face.

She hesitates for a moment before speaking. “Lan?” she says softly.

“Hm?”

She swallows, her cheeks flushed, but she doesn’t look away this time. “You are… I mean, it was my first time.”

For a moment, her words don’t fully register. He blinks, his brows knitting together as if he’s processing what she just said. “First time?” he repeats, his tone slow, almost disbelieving.

When she nods, her lips parting slightly as she struggles to hold his gaze, Lando’s eyes fix on hers. His first instinct is to check if she’s messing with him, but all he sees is her wrecked, post-sex state. Her hair is mussed and wild against the pillow, her skin flushed from her chest to her cheeks, her lips swollen and parted as she breathes unevenly. The faint sheen of sweat on her body catches the soft light, and her eyes are glassy, still hazy with satisfaction. She looks thoroughly undone — raw and real.

And he knows she’s not lying.

The realization hits him like a tsunami, leaving him momentarily speechless. His jaw tenses briefly, and instead of speaking, he leans down and captures her lips in a kiss. It’s not rushed or frantic but deep and meaningful, his lips moving against hers with a peaceful intensity. His hand cups her jaw, kissing her like he’s claiming every part of her. Because he is. The thought makes his head spin — the fact that she’s his completely.

“You should’ve told me,” says Lando, his voice thick with emotion. “I would’ve been more careful.”

“No, it was perfect,” she rushes to assure him. “Because it was with you.”

His eyes soften, and he presses a kiss to her forehead. “Are you even real?” he whispers.

And then he’s kissing her again; her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, her lips, trailing down her shoulders and neck, where he makes sure to leave marks behind. His hands roam her body with a newfound reverence, as if seeing her for the first time.

“Gonna spend the rest of the night showing you how much you mean to me,” he says, his lips brushing against her collarbone. “If you’ll let me.”

Her heart swells as she nods, “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Good,” he says, his voice a low hum of satisfaction. “Because you deserve nothing less.”

PREVIOUS LN⁴ ONE-SHOT

MASTERLIST

Thank you for reading!

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© trashy track tales, 2024

[slimmestofshady]

Bad Habits Kill You

Summary: The 90s in Detroit wasn’t exactly easy to live in with two kids and a boyfriend who redeveloped a bad habit.

Warnings: Drug Addiction, relapse, toxic relationship, abusive on both sides, accusations of cheating but no actual cheating, swearing, mention of smut, mention of drug dealing, breast feeding, robbery

6 calls, 13 text messages later and you found yourself driving home with your 3 year old daughter strapped in the carseat, livid that Marshall hadn’t picked up the phone. Working two jobs and trying to live life comfortably was becoming difficult as you felt like you were the only one here trying to keep the family afloat. This had been the fifth time this week you had to leave early and pick her up due to your boyfriend not showing up. Two write ups later with the check engine light on the car, hardly any gas in it and needing an oil change that you couldn’t afford you unbuckled her, carrying Ellie inside only to hear your newborn screaming once again.

Scoffing, you pushed open the broken screen door, the object squeaking when it was pressed back only to find Marshall’s blonde head fast asleep on the couch, a bowl of weed sitting right out on the rickety table next to Sara’s play pen.

“Mommy, why is daddy always tired? He never eats with us either.” You knew what this was, rehab hadn’t been working and it wasn’t just the sleeping pills he was taking. What were you supposed to say to her?

“Daddy’s just been very busy, why don’t you go play with your toys? Okay?” You smooched her on her delicate little head, ruffling her hair. A child at that young of age shouldn’t even have to ask those questions or ask why other kids have more than you did. Even in a relationship it felt like you were a single mother just trying to make ends meet. 

Picking up Sara from her crib you kneed him lightly in his side in irritation, causing him to moan and groan, mumbling something about being cold in the process. You kneed him again to which he turned around and shouted in his groggy state, his baby blues eyes dilated with dark circles shading his white skin.

“What?!” His temper was not in the slightest controlled, only pushing you farther past your limit of being civil or concerned for his well being.

“You were supposed to pick Ellie up, and do you hear that? That’s your other daughter crying to be taken care of which I can see you’re doing a great job at.” He clenched his jaw, folding his hands together, rubbing them. He got up, closing the distance between the both of you pointing an accusing finger directly in your face.

“I know how to be a fucking parent Y/N. Besides you’re one to talk, did Andre fuck you yet cause he been blowin up the phone all god damn day.” Taking Sara to her room, you rolled your eyes from having the same argument every fucking day while laying her in the crib, but he followed.

“At least he offers to watch the kids, more than you’ve ever fucking done! Tell me how many pills did you fucking pop today and don’t lie to me because I can see you’re clearly stoned. Fucking blanked out and shit.” You closed the door once you layed her down, refusing to argue with him in front of the kids but that didn’t mean they didn’t hear.

His hand wrapped around you arm pulling you back until you were pushed against the wall of the tiny hallway, giving you no personal space as he spat his venomous words.

The tensions was rising, only fueling your immense anger. This was the same old song and dance as every other fucking day. Why didn’t you leave? Well it’s easier said than done when you loved someone.

“I’m not fucking stoned babe I’ve been working on a new song and just fell asleep. Besides I don’t see you bringing any money so where you been if it ain’t work?” He pulled out a red piece of paper in his pocket with the words “EVICTION NOTICE”. Snatching the paper out of his hands, you noticed they only were giving you a week to pack your shit and get out due to being nearly three months behind on rent.

Scoffing you shoved the paper at his chest, trying to walk away but he didn’t let you shoving you back against the wall again.

“Marsh, don’t start your fucking shit okay?! I’ve been working my ass off but god forbid I work a full fucking shift because your ass has to be sat on this fucking couch, smoking dope and taking your fucking sleeping pills and xanax!” As he started cussing you out, you didn’t think before slapping him harshly across the face when he accused you of cheating once more based off the basis of no money coming in yet you’re always “at work.”

“What the fuck y/n! You don’t want to play this fucking game with me aight?!” Right before you could spit fire back, Ellie walked out of her room crying, causing you both to stop. She was just a child and didn’t ask or sign up for any of this. A sympathetic look of sorrow washed over Marshall and yourself the tension dwindling ever so slightly when you saw her teary, beading eyes, her cheeks reddened from the hostile situation.

With open arms, he picked her up cradling her against his chest as his hands rubbed her back gently.

“Baby, I’m so sorry. Mommy and I will stop arguing okay?” You crossed your arms, huffing from this constant fighting but seeing how quick he was when he was awake to console her, and ensure those crybaby tears stopped was heart warming. He had the potential to be such a good dad if he would just set the drugs aside but maybe that was too much to ask.

“My-my tv is gone, all-all my stuff is gone!” With frantic eyes, you both pushed open the door to see the room a wreck, and multiple items missing. Some of her blankets on her bed, her stuffed animals gone, even her piggy bank that had nearly $500 in it. It had taken over a year to save it, in hopes of starting a fund for her when she was 18, and now it was just gone. 

You couldn’t hold back the tears, feeling like everything was just crumbling down. They flowed freely down your cheeks, Marshall noticing and trying to pull you in to his side with his other arm but you waved him off, walking into the bedroom and closing the door. How much more of this could you take? There were shootings at least once a week, you were barely able to afford food, living off food stamps that barely covered shit. Whenever it seemed to be going great or a little better than before, everything would just turn to shit.

As you slumped down onto the bed, you couldn't help but notice the bathroom light still open, the shattered mirror from the night before slightly ajar.

Pushing yourself off the bed, you walked into the room with a dreadful feeling, hoping you weren't right. Taking a deep breath, you opened the object only to find the 3 pill bottles completely empty with their lids off, how much shit did he fucking take.

There was a knock at the door pulling you from your thoughts, but when you heard his voice asking if he could come in your blood boiled. When you didn't respond he pushed the door open, Sara no longer in his hands. When he saw you had found the empty bottles, he had a guilty look on his face but not remorseful.

There was a dead silence as you stood with your arms crossed shooting daggers his way.

"Tell me again that you're not fucking using. I'm not fucking stupid. How do you expect me to become closer with you when you can't even own your shit! This is getting old, and I don't know how much longer I can do this!" A switch like the atomic bomb flipped inside of him and he wasn't thinking before he pushed you on the mattress as you pounded against his chest, but you were never a match compared to his strength.

He folded his hands around the warmth of your neck, shaking you in place but not squeezing hard enough to cut off circulation.

"You don't know what it's like! Who the fuck are you to judge me huh? We're livin in this broke down piece of shit fuckin trailer, I'm tryin to fuckin write songs and start a good life for us, while you bring some dude around our fuckin kids when I'm not home, actin like you perfect, you ain't perfect either!" The tears welled in your eyes in a mix of emotions. He was right neither of you were but how did you get to this point. You had a plan, a good one, but everything kept getting taken away from you. It was like playing ring around the rosey but always falling down. You stared into his ocean eyes while sniffling when he finally released your neck.

"Fuck!" He screamed with profound irritation. You were both tired of fighting nearly every day, it was draining but the love was still there even if it was minuscule at times.

"Can you tell me truthfully I'm not being replaced by your fuckin' boss at work?" His eyes settled for a moment, just needing to know the truth.

"Marshall there is nothing there, nothing has happened. I'm just trying to find someone to watch the kids and I clearly have to even when I'm not home." A sorrowful look of hurt and guilt crossed over his face. You weren't wrong that he wasn't trustworthy to his own god damn kids and he wasn't wrong that you should've at least asked him about Andrei watching the kids. He was a private man, he didn't like strangers around the house let alone his kids.

As your breathing steadied, Marshall buried his head in the crook of your neck, allowing a singular tear to slip from his eye and land on your skin. He wanted to be better a father, a better boyfriend but it was so difficult during times like these.

"You need to get help baby..." A choked sob escaped you. You hated seeing him like this, he was better than this.

He had gone five months sober and when you noticed the signs he was using again you hadn't asked again after how irritable he was with you the first time, until today at least.

This wasn’t all on him though, the relationship issues anyway.

in his own head he felt there was no going forward, there was no escaping the impending, disastrous thoughts in his mind. The drugs soothed those intrusive thoughts, how could he lose himself inside his own head if he was asleep?

“I know, I know…” You both layed there for a moment in each others company. Neither of you calling the cops about the break in since they never seemed to actually do anything given where you lived.

“Maybe we should take the kids out for dinner or something, get Ellie’s mind off her things being gone.”

“Well how much do we got in the account?” You shook your head, sitting up and waving your hands up in the air with defeat.

“Not enough. I think altogether for the month we have around $120.” Fuck. He couldn’t do shit for his kids but somehow had enough money to get drugs? His mind twirled, the stress and realizing his priorities weren’t straight pressing an immense weight on his shoulders.

A thought crossed his mind of what if he started to sell only using every now and then? That would surely bring in money, especially around this neighborhood and keep you afloat for the time being but he didn’t say it.

He also had to worry about the kids. He refused to let them be homeless.

“Let’s take them we’ll figure it out. We aigh’t now?”

“Only if you promise me you’ll get help. I’m here to support you, okay?” Your hand caressed down his cheek as you stared into his baby blue hues, he nuzzled into your touch nodding before helping you out of bed.

Ellie was sat coloring with the crayons she still had on the living room floor wrapped in a blanket. That was another thing you were behind on, the fucking heat bill but that was a concern for another day. Luckly the electric and water seemed to still be on for the time being.

Marshall swooped her up in his arms peppering her face with loving kisses while ruffling her hair. He was always so good with her, such a caring dad and the sight made your heart melt. Moments like these made the fights seem almost pointless.

“Are you and mommy done fighting?” Her voice was so sweet and innocent, her small fist clenching and grasping at Marshall’s white shirt. The small gesture warning his heart. He just wanted his daughter to be happy.

“Yes baby. Daddy loves mommy we just have a lot going on, adult stuff you don’t need to worry about. Let’s get you and sissy some dinner, okay?” She nodded against him, perking up when he mentioned McDonald’s. It wasn’t the healthiest but it was affordable and it made her happy and that was all that mattered right now.

Passing her to you, Marshall went out to the car throwing a raggedy, old gray sweatshirt on before lighting a cigarette as he started the car. It took him about three times for the car to turn over, rickety old piece of shit, he was just grateful the heat was working for his angels. Checking the glove box, he ensured his gun was still there while a car passed by slowly, music blaring. He was skeptical of everyone and everything in this neighborhood, especially when something like today happens for the fifth time this year.

Pushing the door open, Marshall rushed to your aide to help Ellie down the stairs, avoiding the section with a nail sticking out of the wood while you carried Sara in your arms.

“Should we get gas?” You shrugged, nodding and informing him you still had work and Ellie had daycare to attend.

“How much we’re paying for that again?”

“Nearly $100 a month.” He hasn’t realized how expensive it was, scoffing and mentioning how the government expects people to live off minimum wage jobs and take care of their children.

Dinner seemed to be going smoothly, Ellie was making friends and playing in the play pin section of the restaurant while you and Marshall sat with Sara near the window in a close distance, sharing a milkshake while laughing over the memories of the past.

“Be careful sweetie!” Marshall yelled after Ellie noticing how close she was to slipping a falling off a plastic cube. She nodded to her dad, going back to her activity.

He couldn’t help but glance down at your tits, they’d gotten so big from the swelling of breast feeding. One of the things he loved that happened when you were pregnant. He bit down on his bottom lip intrigued, making a comment about how even after giving birth he still would take you right here right now over this table had their been no kids around.

Smacking him playfully with your cup, you giggled. It was about time she needed to be fed but before you could excuse yourself to the restroom, Ellie came up to have a drink break, not wasting a minute before she blurted out,

“Mommy, when is Andre coming over again? He likes to color with me and he talks about you a lot…” You we’re at a standstill for words, being left speechless by your toddler. Marshall’s jaw clenched, his hand forming a fist as he held his composure. He simply said, “Believe me now? Hows that for truth?” Ellie yanked on her dads sleeve, asking for a refill on her drink giving you the perfect way out of the situation.

“I’m going to feed Sara, I’ll be back in a couple minutes.

“Yeah, aight. You do that.” Arriving home, the car ride was mostly silent. Marshall laid Ellie down in your bed as she fell asleep in the car, too worried about her being in her own room and the same for Sara moving her crib for the night near the back corner of your room where the light wouldn’t be in her face but she’d still be close.

While you were still in the living room changing laundry, he stumbled into the back of the closet, reaching for a small box that was hidden under a flap in the carpet, popping a pill or two in his mouth, rinsing them down with water from the sink.

He closed the door lightly to not wake either of your kids, walking out into the living room and not hiding that he was not in a good mood, slouching down into the couch.

“So when the fuck did you plan on telling me that he been coming over into my fucking house with my fucking kids? You didn’t even ask me.” You sighed, knowing that resurfacing the topic if anything to with Andre would end badly, especially after the comment Ellie made.

“It was only one time babe, you were out with your friends, I was working late, Nate was out of town. I didn’t exactly have a choice. Those things Ellie said, I understand you are upset but until we can find someone else I don’t know what you expect me to do or what we’re going to do come next week.” Closing the dryer, you accompanied him on the couch, not looking for a fight but a resolution, but he loved to fight.

“I don’t want some strange, douchebag guy that wants to sleep with my girl around my kids Y/N. Plain and simple. Don’t worry about next week I’ll figure it out.” The way he ended the sentence meant there was no room for any other decisions. He wouldn’t allow it and quite frankly he was ready to choke this bitch out and arrange a little meetup in an ally to beat the shit out of him “And I don’t want a boyfriend who is high all the damn time yet here we are. Your bad habit isn’t just killing you, it’s killing us.” Yeah maybe you were right but maybe his trust issues got in the way of that cause as far as he was concerned if he saw Andre or even heard about him being here again he was gonna call up some of his buddied and make him a dead man.

This constant back and forth bullshit was getting you nowhere and frustrating the every living fuck out of him.

“I promise you I’ll go into rehab again once we get this shit figured out. But you gotta promise he ain’t coming around our kids anymore, and tell him to get rid of this fuckin number.”

“ And I will okay? No more Andre. I promise.” He nodded still not believing this guy was going to leave you alone but for now he wanted to relax, the pills already taking effect and making him drowsy he just hoped you couldn’t tell. Trying to avert attention from himself, his hands grasped your thighs pulling you into his lap and caressing your ass cheeks making you giggle.

“What’re you doing?”

“What I cant feel my girl up? C’mon the kids are asleep. We could get in a round or two.” That would be nice and a big stress relief, you could already feel his large bulge growing beneath you, causing your pussy to throb in anticipation while you rolled your hips down against him before pulling your shirt off, revealing your breasts.

“What’re you waiting for then?” You leaned in closely to his ear, lips just brushing over the bottom lobe and biting playfully.

“Fuck me.”

[cosmicbucky]

verity

summary: an inadvertently broken heart and a girls' night in can only lead to one thing: you drunkenly confronting the very man who broke your heart in the first place - aka your best friend, bucky barnes pairing: bucky barnes x female reader word count: 3253

warnings: angst, alcohol consumption, reader gets drunk with friends, pet names, sad bucky, sad reader, drunk confessions, swearing, misunderstandings, reader gets sick (vomit), fluff, kinda friends to lovers (??)

《《《《 ♡ 》》》》

The music flowed through the living room around you, quiet enough to not overpower the conversations you were having with your friends, but loud enough for you to know what you were swaying in your seat to. 

It had been a while since you had a girls' night, though you were all but forced into this one; it was made clear by Nat that your presence was not an option - you were the only reason you were all gathered here now, each of you at least a bottle or two in. 

At first you resisted. You wanted nothing more than to wallow alone in your room, watching trash TV and crying over cheesy scenes. It wasn't that you didn't love the company you had right now, you just wanted other company. You wanted the same company you had every day for the last year. The same company that became your only solace ever since it took a literal bullet for you without thought just to keep you safe. The same company that read your favourite books so you had someone to talk to about them. The same company that sat with you and watched all your favourite shows so they could get a better glimpse of who you are and what you like. The same company you thought you were finally getting somewhere with. 

It felt like you got hit by a truck when the words "You know Bucky's been dating?" nonchalantly left Sam's mouth one day while you were having lunch. You didn't want to know more about it. You didn't want to know who they were, how the two met, or what they did for a living. You didn't want to be told anything other than the fact Sam was joking, that what you thought you had with Bucky really was real and not just in your head. Sam never said anything close to that, though. 

Bucky never brought up the dates to you, and you almost felt that was even worse than if he did. Why did he not want to tell you? Were you really not as close as you thought? Did he not trust you enough to tell you such a thing? Your thoughts continuously spiraled over the next few days, stealing away your self confidence and the air from your lungs. Nothing was the same anymore. You thought you knew where you stood with Bucky. You thought it all meant something. All the stares from across the room, the lingering touches, the 'just because' gifts, the movie nights, the sleepovers, all of it. But it meant nothing. You read it all wrong. And now it's been two weeks since you were able to look at him long enough for you to even say hi to him, let alone have a conversation with him. 

Bucky noticed the shift the moment it happened; when you slid ever so slightly away from him when he tried to hold you in his arms like he did every movie night. He noticed when the smile stopped reaching your eyes. He noticed when you stopped showing up for dinners with the gang every night. He noticed when you couldn't hold his gaze anymore. He noticed that you two just weren't the same, and it killed him. It killed him because he didn't know what he did, and he tried everything under the sun to get things back to the way they were, but nothing worked.

Everyone noticed when his demeanor changed. His fuse was shorter, his temper was stronger. He spent even more time in the training room, pummeling and destroying bag after bag until his knuckles were bloody; letting himself heal overnight only to do it all again the next day. He shamelessly threw a dining chair into a wall when Tony made a joke about how you must have smartened up and finally got sick of him, and his expression was so murderous that a Code White was called, effectively resulting in him being locked down in his room for a full 24 hours - he ended up staying in there even after the lockdown was over. The only reason he started leaving the confines of his room was to spend time with his best girl, and he didn't have that anymore.

All your friends were sick of it. They didn't know what was going on, and you both refused to talk about it. No one could even mention the others' name to either of you anymore without fear of having the nearest object thrown at their head. 

So plans were formed, and you now sat on the couch with a glass in your hand as you mindlessly swayed to whatever song was currently playing. 

"Who is in charge of this music? It is awful!" Yelena stated from her spot on the floor, taking yet another shot. 

"I picked it," you crooned, stilling your movements as you looked at her. "It's completely free of attachments to you-know-who."

A cohesive muttering came from all the women before you, and Yelena cleared her throat. "It is not bad," she corrected with a grimace, taking pity on you. 

"Are you drunk enough to tell us what happened now?" Nat asked, raising an eyebrow at you. 

Downing the rest of your glass, you looked at her with a thoughtful expression for a minute. "No," you concluded, filling your glass again. 

"Okay, this is torture. Time for a drinking game!" Wanda exclaimed, standing from her chair. "Everyone take a mustache and tape it to the TV. We're putting on a trash show and drinking whenever it lines up with someone."

You beamed with excitement, ready to both watch crappy TV and get drunk - gods know you needed at least one night to forget about Bucky. 

And forget you did. You can't remember the last time you were this far gone, the last time you had this much fun. The drinking game was very successful; it even got Yelena and Nat a little tipsy, which was not easy to do. No one said anything when you went a little harder than everyone else, when you drank a little more, taking shots when you weren't technically supposed to. You haven't smiled like this in weeks, and they weren't going to take that away from you. 

Your giggles carried on down the hallway, the echoes of your voice, of your laughter, music to everyone's ears - having gone so long now without hearing it. It captured someone's attention, socked feet being dragged towards the sound before even knowing what was happening, a seat being taken in the kitchen just to be that much closer, eyes gazing across at you, a face with such an amorous expression it would have made anyone who saw it sick. 

You audibly gasped as you caught sight of him, your eyes meeting his for the briefest of seconds before he looked away, contemplating whether he should go back to his room or not. 

"Oh, my god. Why is he here?" you asked the girls, unable to take your eyes off of him. 

"Why is who here?" Kate asked, following your gaze. "Him? What are you talking about he-"

"We don't know!" Nat chimed in, sending a warning glare to Kate that you were too distracted to see. 

"Why don't you go talk to him and find out?" Wanda suggested, quickly catching on to Nat's motive. 

You shook your head vehemently, making yourself momentarily dizzy. "Noooo. He broke my heart, Wan. What would I even say?" you replied with a whine, sinking into the couch as you lifted the glass to your lips again. 

She shared a look with Nat, two looks that said 'fuck, maybe we shouldn't let her do this' and 'what the hell does she mean by that?' You couldn't decipher either, though. The blood was rushing in your ears as you stared across the room again, torn between going to confront this beautiful, asshole of a man and staying in the comfort of the living room.

Before you could really think it through - and in your state, it's not like you really could anyway - you abruptly stood from the couch, taking a few seconds to steady yourself on your feet. 

"Fuck him," you muttered to yourself, vaguely aware of the girls trying to get your attention as you marched across the floor. 

His head snapped up when he heard you coming, his enhanced hearing paired with the fact you weren't exactly in a graceful state didn't give you the advantage of sneaking up on him. 

"Hi, doll," he said once you approached him.

Had you been in a more collected frame of mind, you probably would have noticed how quiet his voice was, how strained it was from the fact he was holding his breath in the hopes the two of you would go back to normal. You would have noticed the pain, the hurt, the confusion, and the hope dancing around in his eyes; making the blue that used to be your favourite colour now dull and stormy. 

You didn't notice, though. All you noticed was the burning pain in your heart that was supposed to be gone after all those drinks, but just one look at the man before you brought everything back. 

"You can't call me that anymore," you declared, shaking your head so much it made the room spin even more. "You gotta keep that name reserved now," you added bitterly. 

"Reserved?" Bucky asked, his brow knit together in confusion. "For who?" 

You scoffed, walking forward to close the distance that was left between you and the table he sat at. A few steps in and you lost your footing, but before you could even stumble Bucky was already out of his seat. His hands were on your arms in an instant, the feeling of hot and cold both burning your skin in a familiar way. The tenderness of his touch and the yearning you felt for it after all this time was almost too much to bear; your mind was spinning. Spinning from alcohol. Spinning from heartache. Spinning from anger. Spinning, spinning, spinning. 

"Let go of me!" you exclaimed angrily, shrugging yourself out of his grasp. "I don't think your little lover would want you touchin' me." 

Bucky could only stand there, blinking in surprise with his hands still outstretched. "My what?" he asked, his hands slowly falling back to his sides. "My lover?" he repeated. 

"Yeah, your lover - or… whatever the hell you want to call them. Sam told me, because you didn't," you told him indignantly. 

"I- what? Sam told you? Sam told you what?" he asked, more confused than ever. 

"That you're dating someone!" you yelled, the anguish clear in your voice. 

Bucky sighed and ran his hands over his face in exasperation before resting them on his hips, his lips pursed as he collected his thoughts. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he finally asked, trying to put the pieces together in his head. 

"Didn't expect me to know, did you?" you spat furiously. 

"I don't- sweetheart, what the hell is going on?" he asked softly, trying his best to remain patient. You were finally talking to him again, and it's definitely not the way he imagined but he'd be damned if he was going to let you slip through his fingers again. 

"No!" you said forcefully. "I'm not your sweetheart. She is. Whoever she is." 

"There is no ‘she’," Bucky told you calmly, trying his hardest to make sense of what was going on. 

"Okay, then he is!" you replied in defeat, finally throwing yourself down on the chair beside you. 

"What? No, that's not-" he tried to answer you, but you quickly cut him off. 

"Why didn’t you want to tell me?" you asked quietly, your voice cracking. 

“Because… I’m not dating anyone,” he replied slowly, more of a question than a statement. 

“Just stop lying!” you yelled, hands slamming onto the table. “Please, I can’t take you lying to me anymore, okay? You’ve been lying to me all year,” you added in desperation, your eyes starting to glisten with tears. 

“All year?” he asked, his voice quiet and shaky as he slid into the seat across from you. 

You could only nod your head, bottom lip trembling as the first tears started to fall down your cheeks. Bucky started burning from the inside out, wanting nothing more than to wrap you in his arms and kiss the tears away- but he couldn’t. So he stayed where he was, swallowing thickly as he willed himself not to start crying with you. 

“I never lied to you, you know that,” he said carefully. 

“You did, because this whole time you-... I really thought-... you made me think-” you couldn’t get the words out, falling silent as you tried to collect yourself.

Bucky instinctively reached his hands across the table to you before he caught himself, pulling them back and setting them on his lap. "What did I make you think?" 

"That you trusted me. That we meant something to each other," you explained softly, swallowing back more tears. "I thought you loved me back," you added, your voice so quiet it would have been inaudible to anyone other than him. 

"What?" Bucky breathed out, the air being stolen from his lungs with those last six words that spilled from your trembling lips. 

"I know you heard me." 

"Okay- now is not the time for this conversation," he sighed, running his hands over his face. 

You sat in silence for a moment, looking at him with such an recognizable expression Bucky felt like he was looking at a completely different person. "Figures," you muttered before shoving your chair back and standing up. 

"What are you doing?" Bucky asked, half out of his seat as he watched to make sure you were steady on your feet. 

Without another word to him, you turned and carefully started to make your way out of the kitchen and towards your bedroom. 

"Don't you dare walk away from me!" Bucky called from behind you, quickly on your heels. "No, you're not allowed to leave me like this again." 

"You left me first!" you yelled back, placing your hand on the wall to keep your balance as you walked a little faster. 

"I never left you once!" he argued, still hot on your trail. 

You scoffed, shoving open the door to your room and trying to slam it in his face; the attempt was unsurprisingly futile. "Stop following me, you said you don't want to talk."

"No, I said this isn't the time for this conversation," he huffed, shoving his way into your room and closing the door behind him. 

"Why? You don't want to admit what you did?" you asked, stumbling your way to sit on the bed. 

"For fucks sake, I didn't even do anything!" he defended with exasperation, leaning against the door.

"Yes you did," you argued, attempting to take off your sweater. 

"I'm telling you, I didn't," he told you, trying his best to not let out a laugh as he watched you struggle to lift the sweater over your head. 

"You did!" you yelled, voice muffled by the fabric. "You lied, and you kept secrets, and you - god, can you fucking help me?!" you asked with a huff, interrupting your own rant. 

Bucky suppressed his laugh as he stepped forward, kneeling down in front of you. "Alright, alright. Stop fuckin' squirmin'," he muttered. 

You stilled, muttering a few choice words under your breath that did not go unnoticed by him. Grasping the hem of your sweater, he carefully lifted it up and over your head to reveal your disheveled, pouting face. 

"There's my girl," he whispered softly, delicately brushing back your mussed hair. 

"I'm not-" you started to argue, before he quickly cut you off.

"Yes. You. Are," he said firmly, enunciating each word.

"But Sam-"

"Is an idiot," he insisted, cutting you off again. "He tried to set me up with someone but I never went. When he asked me about it, I told him we were gonna go out again so he'd stop fucking bugging me about it. I lied, sweetheart. I was never dating anyone." 

"You- there was no one?" you asked quietly. 

"There was no one else," he told you, his thumbs brushing away stray tears you didn't even know were falling. 

Before you could ask him what that meant, your room started spinning once more and your mouth felt like cotton and your stomach felt like it was making its way up your throat.

"I don't feel so good," you mumbled, staring at him with wide eyes for a moment before rushing to your bathroom, barely making it on time. 

Bucky was at your side in the blink of an eye, holding back your hair as you let loose the contents of your girls' night, his hand ghosting up and down your back. He sat patiently with you, muttering comforting words between each second of you getting sick as you gasped for air and sobbed, occasionally wiping your face with tissues. 

"Better?" he asked after a few minutes, his hands never leaving you. 

You could only nod in response, shifting away from him to rest against the bathtub as you closed your eyes. 

Bucky immediately fell into his old habits, wasting no time in taking care of you. The only thing that destroyed him more than not having you in his life lately was watching you practically wither away, unable to do a damn thing about it. 

"Drink, sweet girl," he told you, caressing your cheek in an attempt to rouse you before handing you the water you had no idea he even retrieved. 

You blinked up at him, taking a moment to process what was going on before taking the glass from him. As you drank he gathered up a washcloth, running it under cold water before kneeling before you once more. 

"C'mere," he whispered, taking your chin in one hand to hold you in place as he gently wiped your face. Your eyes closed once more, sighing in content as the cold water eased the burning under your skin. 

"I love you," you found yourself telling him. Your voice was a delicate whisper, but the words were so heavy you felt like they echoed off the tiles surrounding you anyway. 

Bucky stayed quiet, but you refused to open your eyes and look at him. Looking at him would make this moment real, so as long as you kept your eyes closed, you could pretend none of this ever happened. 

"Let's get you to bed," he finally said, causing your world to implode once more. 

Completely defeated, you allowed him to lift you from the floor. 

Not having the energy to fight him anymore, you cooperated as he helped you into some sleep clothes. 

Wanting to just hide away forever, you let him tuck you under the covers, pressing a kiss to your forehead before he slid in beside you, wanting to be there in case you got sick again.

The room was engulfed by silence for so long it almost felt like it was suffocating you, but just before your whirling mind finally succumbed to the allure of sleep you heard Bucky's gentle voice speaking out to you.

"Sleep this off, angel. Because when I explain to you how in love with you I am, I want to make damn sure you can remember what I say."

[luna-the-moth]

i am begging for riddle with reader who makes audio porn 🙇🙇 does he accidentally stumbles by it? did cater introduced the concept to him? would his treatment of reader change after he sees them the next day? does he avoids them? he definitely can't listen to the entire recording no matter who is it for the first time LMAO he needs a 5 minute break

asidfsdf ask and ye shall receive, anon <3 riddle has so much potential on this subject tbh im <3

18+ / gn! reader / sub! riddle implied / reader does audio porn/asmr!

genuinely i think cater would consider showing it to him as a joke to see his reaction. on the other hand . he knows trey will kill him . BUT. i do think he toes the line by making enough subtle jokes about boyfriend/girlfriend/partner asmr that ace (disgusted, cringed out like the loser his is) asks him why he's talking about "lame shit like that," leading riddle to ask what it is...(he googles it later because no one will tell him, mostly out of fear, mischief, protectiveness, or some mixture of the sort).

Riddle stumbles upon one of your tamer audios at first: it's nothing saucy, just an audio where you're soothing your "partner" post-exam season. (he looked up "asmr, soothing" since that's one of the benefits to asmr trey had listed). nevertheless, his face burns red enough to rival trey's freshest strawberry tart once he realizes who the voice belongs to.

He doesn't allow himself to listen any further- how could he? to allow himself to fantasize about you so openly , , , yes you were kind, intelligent, and enjoyable to be around, but it's not as if he's harboring any romantic intent towards you!

and you...why would you post this publicly? do you not know how much power your words hold? how the timbre of your voice could send a man to his knees? to upload such intimate moments of yourself, scripted they may be...

Riddle's chest heaves as the realization of the situation fully sinks in, but he can't restrain himself from clicking the hyperlink promising "an exclusive sneak peek into [your] heart <3." yet unlike the romantic ideas riddle had come up with, the titles that appeared made him nearly faint.

"Teaching You How to Properly Obey My Orders."

"Caught You Slacking Off."

"A Reward <3"

All of them were so...intense.

Eyes razing through the posts upon posts of similarly titled audios, Riddle feels a shudder go through his body. He's never even heard of most of the acts you placed in the tags under each post but...the thought of you leaning forward into a microphone, murmuring all of your wishes to your paying listeners...he can't help but wish to know the experience, too.

His sleep that night is fitful. He cannot sleep properly . Cannot think properly . Cannot allow peace to overtake him for a moment lest his thoughts stray back to what he had found-

He's in a huffy mood the next day; far more likely to scold a slacking student or mischievous cat. But you...he doesn't approach you at all, avoiding your gaze with every accidental meeting. You wonder if perhaps this is part of him trying to spare you from his ill temper; the adeuce duo had told you of his moodiness from that morning.

But as time drags on, Riddle still can't quite look at you the same way as he once did. He's more passionate. Earnest in wanting to spend time with you, and perhaps a tad possessive as well...You sum it up as him making up for his previous mood, but any explanation you come up with never seems quite right...

<3 lemme know if you'd like to hear more thoughts about the twst charas, nonnie! im also down to talk about sub! twst boys outside of audio porn lol

[kyokutsu-sama]

"Pride and Regret"

Sanemi x f!reader

A/n: Just a fic for my favorite Hashira🤍🖤 I'm working on new things for him

Tw: Slightly suggestive

◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~◇~

The morning that day hadn't started well for the you two. Sanemi was short-tempered and stubborn, and sometimes he end up saying things that he shouldn't. He was just being selfish and limiting himself to seeing his side and not yours and sometimes he was rude with his words, causing you to distance yourself from him.

"No, that's not what I meant. You didn't understand what I said." He said

"I'm not an idiot okay ? I don't need you to explain yourself any further. You're just following your pride and being rude to me just because I disagree with something you think is right. But you don't care, you don't care what I say. I won't waste any more of my time arguing with you, Sanemi." You said, grabbing your sword and leaving the bedroom

"Hey Y/n!! Where are you going? Wait!! Come back here!" He said, following you

You just kept walking without even paying attention to your boyfriend who insisted on stopping you to talk. You were too mad to even look at him or think straight.

"Y/n, stop right there, we're not done yet!" Sanemi ordered and you sighed

"Oh really? I thought you'd done with your nonsense" You said with a wry smile. "Spare me, please. I need to go now, I have things to do." You said and left the house

The hashira snorted as he walked around the house. He knew he had messed up and now that he thought he couldn't fix it, he was even more frustrated.

"Damn it, Sanemi, what did you do!?" He said to himself and kicked the wall right after

He could be very hot-headed and explosive, but he wasn't like that with you and he didn't like to be. You didn't usually argue, even though he sometimes looked sullen when he disagreed with you about something. He always kept quiet and didn't say anything, but today he talked and talked more than he should, which triggered that event.

Since then, three days have passed and nothing. Sanemi was being too proud to apologize even though he was dying to go to you and sort things out. You also gave him the silent treatment and barely looked at him, which made him even angrier.

He discreetly tried to make small gestures that would get your attention, for example when he tried to put one arm around your waist while you were sleeping but you just took it off which left the wind hashira without sleep for the rest of the night. You were also being too proud with him and as much as you wanted to take revenge for his attitude, deep down, you also felt bad for what you were doing.

In the end, you also just wanted to resolve things, you just wanted everything to be okay between the two of you. It's been a while since you two spoke to each other and the fact that you lived in the same place was making everything more tense.

"I'm sorry about this, Sanemi..." You thought as you felt him turn in bed to the opposite side after you rejected his touch

You were coming back from a long day of killing demons and training. Exhaustion was written all over your face. You put your sword aside and went to the bathroom to remove any traces of blood and sweat that were on every corner of your body.

You were approaching the bathroom and crossed paths with Sanemi who was also coming out of there with a towel around his waist.

You wondered if this was just another one of his attempts to solve things...

"Did you come back from some mission?" He asked as he dried his hair with another towel

"Yes, and you?" You said, getting a little nervous in his presence and your eyes occasionally looking over his body

"Me too."

You and him looked at each other for a moment and then you went into the bathroom without saying anything else, which left him a little downcast but feeling a little hope since at least he had managed to hear your voice, a sound he hadn't heard in a few days.

When you left the bathroom, you went to the kitchen to eat something. You were so distracted that you were caught off guard when you felt his strong arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

"He came to apologize..." You thought

Sanemi kept hugging you from behind, resting his head on your shoulder allowing you to hear his breathing which was calm although he seemed tired.

"Babe, I'm so sorry... I shouldn't have spoken to you like that..."He whispered next to your ear and then placed a kiss on your neck that sent shivers down your spine

You noticed the sincerity in his tone of voice and also the bitter regret for knowing that he shouldn't have said those words.

You didn't think he could actually apologize with such soft words but you couldn't help but find it cute of him when he did.

"I'm not going to let you go until you tell me that you accept my apologize." He said, holding you tighter in his arms, making you stop paying attention to what you were doing and give it all back to him. "Come on, this silent treatment of yours is driving me crazy and pissed off, you know?"

"Really?" You smiled at his words. "So, did you know that your stubbornness also pissed me off?"

"I know and I've already apologized too and I'll apologize again until you accept it."

"Well, I accept it, but I'm warning you that the next time you act like that, I'll--" In a quick movement, the wind hashira turned you around to face him and kissed you, silencing the rest of your words

He just wanted you back again, he had no patience to resolve things through conversation. He just wanted you to accept his apology and then he would never use those words again.

"You're really annoying and you talk a lot, you know, brat?" He said, pulling away from your lips and you smiled, licking your lips

"But you're the one who was dying to hear my voice, weren't you, Nemi?" You joked and he moved his hands down to your waist, pulling you in for another, rougher kiss

"What about you? Who was just looking me up and down when I was just in a towel. Aren't you dying to have me back?" He whispered in the middle of the kiss

"Well, I guess I can't deny that, but you also looked at me a lot these days when I passed by you without even paying attention to you." You gave him a provocative look

"You can't imagine the things that went through my head when I saw you, you idiot." He said, kissing your neck

"Oh, I see that my Nemi has been so needy these days." You teased and he bit your shoulder, which made you moan with a little pain. "Agh! That hurt."

"And if you don't shut that mouth I'll do so much worse." He threatened, making your body temperature rise

"And why instead of just teasing me, why don't we get straight to the point?" You asked even though you knew you were playing with fire

"As you wish. And then don't say I didn't warn you." He said picking you up and taking you to the bedroom

[magicalqueennightmare]

Not Exactly the End

Billy Butcher x Reader (Blaze)

You and Butcher have been at odds since the fight against Homelander and Soldier Boy. Things have changed but can you two work together without things blowing up?also known as Butcher is facing dying and comes to spill his guts to you which ends up in a fight and so much more.

NSFW warning and cursing, some violence but it's the boys

You didn't have to look to know Butcher was watching you. That was all he did anymore. The two of you had barely shared a total of fifty words since what happened in Vought tower but damn him, his eyes tracked your every movement when there wasn't a current job.

You were currently moving around MMs apartment helping to patch up Frenchie and Hughie. Annie and Kimiko were helping but you'd had a little more first aid training than them so you took the reins times like this. You hummed the music Frenchie had playing under your breath as you finished the line of stitches on his arm "Ma petite flamme, what would I do without you?" You grinned at him "Lucky for you I'm fairly hard to kill so you won't have to figure that out"

You cut your eyes towards Annie who was going over some paperwork with MM "Did we get what we needed or not?" Kimiko looked up from the stack and nodded before signing "Of course we did" you laughed and signed back "You're overconfident of our skills sweetheart"

You were exhausted if you were telling the truth but the job wasn't done until everything was secure and everyone went home. Of course home now apartments in a not so decent building to stay under the radar but everyone was close,the roof didn't leak and the heat and air worked.

The information that was retrieved was passed off to Grace's contacts and every T was crossed and I dotted so that meant everyone could go home and crash. You walked out behind Frenchie and Kimiko considering your apartment was on the same floor as theirs. Annie and Hughie were on the top floor and as for Butcher when he did sleep it was either MMs couch, the couch at the office or the rare times he went across town to where he called home. There was an empty apartment one floor up from yours that had been rented for him should he feel the need to use it but he rarely did.

---------------

You bid Frenchie and Kimiko a goodnight and went in search of a hot shower and your bed. You were just about to crash when you heard a knock at the door. Was probably Kimiko wanting to watch a movie and Frenchie had already crashed, you walked to the door with a smile as you opened it "Did frenchie already crash again?"

Instead of Kimiko standing at your door Butcher was leaning in the doorway. "Butcher?" You asked in shock and he nodded "Can we talk?" You half laughed "What exactly is there for us to talk about?"

The bastard had the nerve to shove past you into your apartment and even closed AND locked the door behind himself before turning to face you "Luv,me and you both know there's plenty for us to talk about" you were trying to hold your temper, you'd been doing good recently at controlling your powers but felt your fingertips warm slightly as you shook your head in disbelief "Weeks have passed Billy and you haven't said over two words at a time to me. What the fuck do you want me to say here?"

"I know you want to tell me how much of a fucking cunt I've been. Give it to me Blaze. I fucking deserve it" here he was, shoving into your apartment and demanding you talk to him but couldn't even use your actual name. "About what exactly Butcher? About how from the time I started working with you and the boys you talked shit about me being a supe despite the fact that I had no fucking say over it?"

You took a step towards him and saw his eyes flick down to your bare legs then back up to your face. He nodded slowly "Yeah" you laughed loudly without a hint of humor "No. We're not doing this. You're not coming in here and baiting me into an argument. Say what the fuck you need to. I'm not standing here and spilling my fucking issues to you"

"I've got a year tops Y/N" you froze mid step "What?" He nodded again. You weren't sure what to feel. Anger? Sadness? Loss? All of them rolled through you at once. He wasn't yours, he never would be but he was something wasn't he?

You gripped the anger, a familiar emotion you were more comfortable letting control you "You're such a fucking idiot. I told you not to fuck with compound V" you took a step towards him and he stepped back but you shoved him backwards and he slid into a wall but kept his feet under him.

You shoved a finger in his face and was proud of yourself when it nor your voice shook "I told you there had to be another way but you couldn't stop could you? You had to a bigger asshole! You've been horrible to me Butcher, to us all yet we've stood by you! We've fought with you! We've fought FOR you! You just couldn't let us in, you couldn't let us help. Why? Why if supes are so horrible, why not just put me, Kimiko and Annie on the front line? Why ever fucking touch me? Why get worried Ben had hurt me? Why get jealous of Ben? Why lie to me and all us and not tell us how much V you'd shot up? Why didn't you just fucking kill yourself when Becca died?"

He shrugged "I'll be dead soon enough" you had just enough presence of mind to not use your full strength when you slapped him but the sound echoed through your apartment "Damn you Billy. You never should put this team together. You never should've expected us not to care about each other. I know you're an uncaring asshole but MM is your friend, Hughie is practically a stand in for your brother and Frenchie backs your every play. We haven't lost any of us yet, how the fuck am I supposed to keep them together?"

Out of everything he could've said in that moment the words "I'm sorry" shocked you the absolute most. You took a step backwards "Don't apologize. You'd made it abundantly clear none us mean anything to you. The worse part is Homelander isn't even dead. You've killed yourself and he's still walking. What justice does that give anyone?"

"Y/N.." You'd never heard him say your name gentle, even in bed but this time he did. "Just leave" you pointed towards the door but this time he shocked you by moving fast as hell for a human. You must have really been off your game considering he had your back against a wall before you realized it.

Billy was strong for a non supe but you could move if you wanted. He was holding you by your upper arms. You glared up at him "I could move you" he smirked "I thought you liked it when I manhandled ya luv?" You felt your cheeks threaten to warm but bit the inside of one to ensure they didn't "Just say what you needed to"

He released your arms and put one hand on your hip instead,his other hand coming up to grip the side of your face "Supe or not I would've been dead a while ago if it weren't for you. You protected Becca, best you could even against Homelander who scares the hell out of ya. You're one hell of a woman" you swallowed hard before meeting his eyes "I know all of this. What's your point?"

He laughed lightly,more of a chuckle "Whyd ya look at me when you told Soldier Boy the deal was off?" "He hurt a kid and was a threat to people I care about. Whether you believe it or not there are things more important than revenge"

Butcher watched your face as you spoke. Why hadn't he seen it before? Yeah you were amazing in bed and a demon in a fight but you were also gorgeous and had that gentle spark in your eye. You still cared about people, despite everything you'd been through. If he hadn't let revenge eat him alive, if he hadn't fucked everything up....

"I never deserved a second look from you" the words slipped out of his mouth before he could put thought behind it. You laughed, snatching your head out of his grip to drop your gaze "If you want sex just say so. I don't need sweet talking" he gripped your chin, harder this time but just enough to make sure he had your attention before crashing his lips against yours.

-----------

The kiss took you by surprise. One minute you were sure the two of you were going to start arguing, the next his tongue was in your mouth. You moaned lightly,internally cursing yourself for how well you'd let Billy Butcher learn you.

He used the hand on your hip to pull you closer, deepening the kiss. You finally let your brain win over your hormones and pushed against his chest lightly knowing that was all it would take for him to back off. He broke the kiss and met your eyes.

---------------

You were at war with yourself, he was dying. He'd finally admitted it. You cared about him if you admitted it or not. You wanted him but did he want you simply because the one he wanted was dead? You held his gaze as you said "I'm not Becca nor have I ever tried to be a replacement for her" you were breathless from the kiss but had to say it "I don't want a replacement for her. You're two very different women. If I would've let myself be happy after her though you would've been it"

He didn't blink, didn't look away. "Fuck it" you muttered,shoving his heavy coat off his shoudlers before pulling him into another kiss. Your hands smoothed over the soft black sweater he wore as his hands went from your hips to just under your ass. He bent his knees just enough to pull you up into his arms, your legs circling his waist in a well practiced dance between the two of you.

------------

He walked across the room to where your bed sat against the wall, never breaking away from your lips. He laid you down gently and kicked his boots off before climbing in the bed, lips finding yours as his hands slipped under the tank you'd put on for bed.

You gasped when he pinched your nipple, causing your back to arch off the bed. He broke from your lips down to your neck, attacking the skin there and teasing each and every spot he knew would have you a dripping mess under him.

Your hands went to the hem of his sweater and he broke away from your skin long enough to snatch it and the shirt he'd worn under it off and toss it across the room. You smirked slightly as your fingers danced across his chest "Eager are we?" He raised one eyebrow "I'm gonna fuck that smart mouth outta you" you raised an eyebrow of your own before slipping your tank off, leaving your breasts bare to him "Prove it Butcher"

----------------

"Fucking hell" he muttered before placing a sloppy kiss to your lips. He moved from your lips down your neck, kissing and bite hard enough you were certain you'd have marks regardless of your healing.

When he made it to your chest he rolled the nipple of your left breast between his teeth and used his fingers to tease the other. You let your fingers rake through his hair, tugging lightly when he caught your nipple sharply with his teeth "Fuck, Billy"

He looked up at you and the look in his eyes alone was enough to make your stomach flip "How many times did he make you come?" You licked your lips, breath already ragged before answering "Five" he nodded "Six it is"

You felt his fingers tease at the waistband of your shorts "You know the rules sweetheart. You say anything near the word stop and it's stopped" you nodded and he bit down on the breast closest to him "Words Y/N" "I know" he smirked and pulled the shorts down your legs and tossed them.

You instinctively tried to press your legs together in an attempt to hide just how wet you already were but Billy positioned his shoudlers between them and without taking a chance of hurting him you couldn't close them,his damn shoudlers were too broad "Don't hide from me. I want all of ya" you swallowed hard but let a smile slip onto your face and that was all the go ahead he needed.

A light sheen of sweat covered your entire body, your legs were shaking around his head and you'd already came twice but Billy was a man on a mission.

"Billy...Butch...fuck please" you couldn't form a coherent thought at the moment. The pleasure building in your core was threatening to topple over yet again and he'd yet to take his damn pants off. He added two thick fingers in with his tongue and that toppled you over the edge, forcing another orgasm out of you as you screamed his name.

He leaned back, wiping his face with the back of his hand. A proud smirk played across his face "Ain't tapping out on me are ya?" You shook your head "Take your fucking pants off Butcher. I want you inside me" "Yes ma'am" he stood off the bed quickly slipping his pants off.

You curled one finger at him "I want your back on the bed. It's my turn to play a little" he grinned "Yes ma'am"

------------

He laid back on the bed so you moved to straddle his waist, feeling his hard cock at your thighs but wanting to take your time. You let your lips brush against his, tasting yourself on him before moving lower.

You left a trail of kisses mixed with little bites down his next then chest, enjoying the little moans and curses that slipped from him. You sat up enough to grip his cock and line it up with your entrance. You slowly lowered yourself down, eyes closing against the stretch. "Take it slow baby. I ain't going nowhere" he cooed and you felt yourself clench at his words.

Once the stretch faded you gave a tentative roll of your hips and he groaned "Fuckin hell luv" you grinned and gave another roll before moving your hips up and down. You started to fuck yourself on his cock and he gripped your hips tightly, praises falling from his lips as his thrusts started to meet yours.

------------

You were so damn close and Billy must have known because he slipped a hand between you and started to rub tight circles onto your clit. You felt it half a second before your orgasm slammed into you, causing your movements to halt. Billy tightened his grip and turned the two of you over to where your back was now against the bed but he was still buried inside of you.

-----------

You gasped at the moment and he smirked "Still got a few surprises in me" you shook your head and he shifted his hips to drive himself deeper into you pulling a moan from you "Please don't stop Billy" you begged and he chuckled "wasn't planning on it"

Your legs were on Billy's shoudlers and he had you damn near folded in half. You were breathless from how deep every damn thrust was hitting inside of you and he was leaving wet kisses on every inch of your skin he could reach. You were both covered in sweat, you'd lost count of how many times you'd come yet he was still fucking you like he was on a mission. "Billy...Butcher...please" he slowed slightly "What ya need luv?"

"Need you to come" you begged weakly, fingers tugging at his hair "Feels soo good...but I'm tired baby..." you didn't have the presence of mind to realize you'd called him baby until he chuckled, face nuzzling in the crook of your neck "Baby huh? I kinda like it coming from you"

He shifted his angle and your vision went soft around the edges as he started to fuck you harder, chasing his own high finally. "Want me to fill you up baby?" He asked, warm breath on your neck. You nodded "Please" the answer was his laughter.

His hips started to falter and you knew he was close "Fuck Billy. You feel so damn good. Fuck me so good" he grunted as he buried himself into you with one final thrust, his cum coating inside your pussy.

----------

After a few breaths he eased your legs down then started to rub them. He did that for a few minutes before pulling out of you, a few mumbled words of apology leaving his lips at your whimper.

After Billy cleaned you both up with a warm rag he climbed into bed next to you and pulled you over onto his chest and you let him. "What now?" You asked and he shrugged "We keep fighting those batards till the end. I only hope I last enough to make sure the lot of you and Ryan is safe from them"

You cut your eyes up at him and nodded "If we can get him away from Homelander, I'll keep an eye on him. I promise" he leaned closer to catch your lips in a gentle kiss "in another life we would'a been it, ya know?" You nodded "I know. Get some sleep Butch. We'll handle whatever bullshit comes tomorrow but for tonight let's just rest"

[werezmastarbucks]

dating filip telford headcanons

● drives you everywhere, because

● "you don't need to do it, that's why you got me. let me help"

● calls you darling, bonnie, and mo chridhe in private, as he holds this particular term too intimate and affectionate. Generally he prefers a shorter form of your name

● after some time you find with surprise that he can recite Irish poetry and likes doing that. The softer side of Chibs is generally not demonstrated in the club, and you discover it to be even softer than you would imagine

● so loyal

● likes to grumble. He grumbles so much, like an old man

● adheres to more or less traditional role in relationship, considering himself the protector, the earner, and the boss

● but Chibs is insightful and intelligent; he respects you the way that shows he sees you as a human first. You quickly relax and rely on him and spare yourself of the need to be constantly strong and decisive. There's no danger of being belittled, commanded around or neglected with Chibs

● he never leaves his roots behind, and is a big difference to the Americans around him. You experience his Scottish philosophy and hear the special expressions all the time

● boomer humor. 'Scottish people are temperamental: 50% temper, and 50% mental 🤪'

● will break someone's face at your whim without even thinking. Will deal with consequences later. It's atypical of him as he's more of a mediator, so you try not to exploit him

● likes to praise you verbally, he is very generous at that

● in turn, Chibs doesn't expect any compliments and just accepts love quietly and with hidden gratitude. It's important to him to maintain the stone facade because he believes it to be safer for both of you. But you suspect it's just a deeper lying desire to stay unknown.

● because Chibs manages to live like he didn't have all these very heavy past experiences, but they lurk into the present nevertheless

● needless to say, the one thing he will never forgive is betrayal. And he would never betray, either. His loyalty to the club and to you sometimes even gets in the way

● he always means to kiss you quickly, but the kiss always grows into full French

● forehead kisses

● when Chibs feels dangerous, he only opens his eyes half-way, and you strangely feel the safest

● there's a stark and attractive contrast between his two personalities: the soft old man, and the merciless IRA enforcer

● when he's in his killing mode, he starts looking younger

● listening to music when he drives you in the car

● he can drive you in circles if you really want to just ride the city and listen to music

● at least once, before you started dating, he said to you 'I'm too old/bad/stupid/rough for you'

● Chibs is good at dancing and hides it better than his softest features

● likes discussing 'the boys' with you

● with him, you have an insight unique and very universal at the same time, that a person like Chibs really only needs just love, and nothing else

● likes your legs

● sex is rough more often than not

● won't let the guys call you his old lady, if you don't like this term

● he has this gallant trick where he kisses your hand in a knightly fashion

● he doesn't see himself as pretty and acts accordingly. He says, Scottish people aren't pretty, it's an unnecessary distraction for us

● relationship with him starts at 1. sex, 2. dates, not the other way around. He's not really good at courting someone from the get go, but he is a good boyfriend

● bringing food and flowers without you having to ask

● a lot of things he does are very mature, for example, sitting out the tantrums and arguments, he just allows you to express it all and then continues his day. Chibs doesn't like talking about his feelings too much, preferring to express them through actions. It takes time to get used to. He's not the type to engage in the 'which season do you think I am' type of convos.

● ready to take a bullet for you, no questions asked

● he is generally guarded and respectful with women and impresses all your friends with his seeming indifference

● Chibs' most attractive feature is how unbothered and uninterested he is. But once you have him, he's glued to you for life

● not needy, will be able to go on without even a hug for a long time if he feels you don't want it

● generally Chibs is irritatingly mature and independent, and he teaches you maturity, too

● that's where the real commitment and love are

● zero bullshit guy; he's finely tuned, has high emotional intelligence and doesn't try to seem what he's not

● he openly admits that you can manipulate him and he will obey, because all he has is you, and he enjoys every moment of it. But when it becomes toxic, he draws a very certain limit

● will fight for this relationship but won't humiliate himself

● he's a Scorpio: mysterious, emotional, secretive and complicated.

● sorry the list is big. Like Chibs' dick

[redux-iterum]

Charred Legacy: Chapter Thirty-Eight

(AO3 counterpart here.)

Cloudpaw and Fireheart returned home just before evening turned to night. Quickly, they curled up in their respective nests and pretended to sleep, conveniently “waking up” as their Clanmates started to. With so many cats making their way around camp, the tell-tale pawprints were covered up almost immediately, and no one seemed to notice that Cloudpaw was a little more tired again.

Fireheart kept to his decision; he and Cloudpaw went out with Snowpaw, Ravenwing, and Greystripe to hunt. The decree for all warriors to travel in groups of four had been relaxed, at least in the southern part of the territory. Despite the lack of dog-scent and Snowpaw teaching Cloudpaw how to crawl silently, and the eased energy of his friends, Fireheart couldn’t bring himself to completely chill out. Evidently, his anger had left a few droplets of itself in his gut, and now he had to almost physically stop himself from thinking of his argument with Rosy, or those droplets would start to steam.  

He hated that. He didn’t want to have any negative emotions tied to his sister. But even a single thought calling back to her insulting Bluestar, and he would unconsciously turn his head away from whichever way he was facing and grimace as he forced new thoughts into his head and dug them in as deep as he could, hoping that would silence the words Rosy had said.

“Are you okay?” Greystripe murmured to him as Snowpaw signed something that made Cloudpaw chuff.

Fireheart defaulted to a lie. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine.” Greystripe gave him a light touch with a massive paw. “You’ve been completely silent all night and keep staring like you’re about to kill someone.”

Fireheart was tempted to stay silent in the hopes that his friend would let the matter drop, but he knew better. He sighed out, “Just thinking about the dogs. And hoping my sister’s okay.”

It didn’t look like Greystripe was satisfied with that answer, but he did nod and say, “Alright. If, uh, if you want to talk, you can tell me anything.”

Dared he tell him? If anyone was to understand a rule-breaker, it would be him. At the same time, if Fireheart started talking, his odds of ranting and upsetting Cloudpaw were a little too high for his liking.

“I’ll let you know,” was all he said, and they left it at that.

He managed to cool down and relax over the next few nights, though by the stars, was it a slow process. Speckletail seemed to notice his lingering tension and started putting him on more patrols, often without Cloudpaw. It helped to have his attention elsewhere, at least, and it was good to be out of camp where Darkstripe couldn’t scowl at him with one eye squinted. Fireheart didn’t trust that his temper would stay under control if he remained inside.

One night, Speckletail invited him to join herself, Willowpelt, and Sandstorm on a hunting patrol, which he took gladly. Cloudpaw looked at him with some disappointment and anxiety as he spoke to the deputy. Before he left, he approached his nephew with an order.

“I’d like you to stay close to camp tonight,” he said. “If any nests need refreshing, or the elders need grooming, take care of that. And visit Brightpaw, too. She seems to be doing better with you around.”

“She’s not as, um…” Cloudpaw tilted his head in thought. “Not as shut-down as before. But yesterday, I offered to take her out to make dirt and she started shaking really hard.”

Fireheart nodded sympathetically. “Then just bring her some prey or help clean her fur. You’re doing very well taking care of her and the elders.”

“I like doing it,” Cloudpaw said. “It’s fun.”

Something in Fireheart settled and he regarded his nephew fondly. “That’s the right attitude. I wish the other apprentices were more like you.”

Cloudpaw’s fur fluffed out and he puffed his chest proudly, his disappointment forgotten. Fireheart touched his nose to his forehead before turning around and following after his patrol out of camp.

It was a night of dense air, brought about by the fog that was thick enough to hide anything past the immediately surrounding trees wherever Fireheart stood. Despite this, and the snow on the ground that had turned hard and crunchy, Fireheart couldn’t help but enjoy himself. Even with his Clanmates around him, it felt private, quiet, and oddly comfortable—easy to step away from his thoughts and walk mindlessly in a void.

“Well, good luck to us finding anything tonight,” Sandstorm remarked, shaking out her smooth, pale fur. “I can’t even smell you right next to me, Willowpelt.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad.” Willowpelt tapped Sandstorm with her tail. “Just pay attention.”

“‘Just pay attention,’” Sandstorm snipped with no venom. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Speckletail turned her head back to squint jokingly at them. “That’ll be a great piece of advice if the two of you pipe down and start listening for prey.”

Sandstorm looked at Fireheart and gestured at the older mollies with playful exasperation. Fireheart twitched his whiskers, but said nothing. After waiting a moment, presumably for a response, Sandstorm faced forward again, her tail still.

It was difficult to tell exactly how far from camp they’d gone, but at some point Fireheart realized they were going past burnt trees. He looked to Speckletail, asking, “Have we been having luck hunting out here?”

“Oh, no.” Speckletail gestured vaguely with a sweep of her tail. “I was planning to take us out to the neutral grounds. Dustpelt’s patrol yesterday found a lot there.”

“Shame it’s come to that point,” Willowpelt said. “Nothing out there is quite as tasty as forest-born prey.”

“We’ll be back to it in spring, don’t worry.”

“I hope so.”

The conversation turned to mild chatter that Fireheart didn’t pay much attention to. He absorbed the false privacy of the fog. He hardly even heard his own pawsteps.

Imagine what it’d be like to be the only cat in the world, he thought, as the fog thickened, almost hiding his Clanmates. Not a care beyond finding shelter and food. No arguments or other cats to worry about.

…Maybe that’d be a little too lonely for me.

 “Hey, that’s interesting.”

Fireheart blinked back to reality. He’d lagged behind a fair few steps and only now saw Sandstorm at one end of a fallen, black tree, squinting at the roots, some of which were still clinging to a mound of disturbed, dark soil. 

“This wasn’t here before,” she said. “Did the fire do this?”

Fireheart trotted up to join her. The inner wood that the roots surrounded had been completely burned away, leaving a surprisingly large hole big enough to house a fox and her cubs.

“Weird,” was all he said.

Again, a pause and a look from Sandstorm, but she said nothing to him. Willowpelt and Speckletail joined them, examining the charred interior.

“Well, we won’t be finding any prey in there,” Willowpelt said. She nodded to the side. “But at least we’re close to the neutral grounds. Let’s get going.”

Speckletail flicked her tail. “You two go ahead. Fireheart and I will check around here, just in case.”

Fireheart blinked in surprise. Willowpelt and Sandstorm glanced at each other, then Speckletail, who flicked her tail more firmly, and they trotted off into the fog. Fireheart waited for them to disappear fully before turning to the deputy. He stopped before he could say anything; she was looking at him rather gravely.

“Um,” he said: half a question, half a prompt.

Speckletail approached him, looking down at him with a somewhat-unreadable face. He thought he caught concern and weariness in her eyes. “I’ve been meaning to talk with you privately. What’s troubling you?”

He restrained a flinch. “Troubling…? I, uh, I’m fine.”

“Fireheart, you can be honest with me,” Speckletail said with a calming blink. “I’ve been putting you on so many patrols recently because I’m concerned about you. You’re radiating this intense energy, and you always look like you’re about to get into a screaming match with whoever you’re talking to.”

Fireheart said nothing. His mind scrambled for an excuse.

“I don’t know what’s happened,” Speckletail went on, “but you’re affecting your apprentice. He’s nervous to be around you. Have you noticed that?”

He hadn’t. Fireheart stared at her, his mind now frantically scraping around for any memory of how he’d been acting since Cloudpaw came home. He couldn’t find any, just memories of stewing in his emotions and not paying attention to anything around him.

“Um,” he said again.

Speckletail sighed—though, Fireheart noticed, more in a melancholic way than frustrated. “You’re not in any trouble, you know. I just worry because I appreciate your help and energy in taking care of the Clan, and it’s hard to find that when you’re upset like this. Whatever’s going on, you can tell me.”

Should he? He clenched his jaw unconsciously.

“The thing is, if I’m going to be honest…” Speckletail glanced backwards, ears perked at the way the other mollies had gone, before turning to Fireheart and dropping her volume. “I’ve been giving you a lot of tasks because I’ve been testing you. I think you could be…”

She trailed off, straightening up and swiveling her ears.

Fireheart tilted his head. “What?”

“…I thought I heard something.” Speckletail squinted to her left, peering into the wall of fog. She slowly took a few steps in that direction, craning her neck forward, her ears working overtime. “Is someone here?”

Fireheart strained to catch any noise, almost squinting a little himself. Now that she mentioned it, there was something like paws shuffling through snow, growing a bit louder by the moment.

“I hear pawsteps,” he said, voice low out of instinct. “Sandstorm and Willowpelt didn’t leave that way, though…”

Speckletail’s eyes narrowed. “There isn’t supposed to be a patrol out here—”

Then she stopped, stiffening. Fireheart looked at her questioningly, going a little stiff himself when she said, “We need to find the others. Come on.” Before he could respond, she whipped around and started off at a run in the direction their Clanmates had gone, the haze swallowing her quickly.

Fireheart hastened after her, but with the fog and her footsteps fading almost immediately, he had to rely on her prints to catch up to her. Pawsteps did grow louder, but they were coming from a different direction—somewhere to Fireheart’s left. They were clunky and heavy, and there only seemed to be one… whatever animal it was, making that noise.

And it was rapidly getting closer.

Fireheart’s run turned into a sprint, just before a shape shot out of the fog and sent him skidding to a halt. He scrambled backwards, back-fur bristling.

It was impossible to tell what it was—tall, far too tall for any animal he’d seen before, and night-black, shaggy tendrils drifting off of its body. A pair of round lights dimly sat in the highest point of whatever this form was, focused directly on Fireheart. It was perfectly silent, and aside from the tendrils shivering a little from its breathing, perfectly still.

For a long moment, Fireheart couldn’t move. He couldn’t even think. He stared at this creature, and the creature stared back, its eyes brightening with interest and hunger. The memory of Swifttail’s story back in the Barn gripped his chest.

A long, pink tongue rolled out of what Fireheart could now guess was its muzzle and licked both sides of its mouth. Barely visible were long, jagged, white teeth, going so far up its head that for a moment Fireheart thought it could split in half just by opening its mouth.

Still staring at him, it started forward.

Terror, he thought. Terror with a mouth like a dog– is this a test?

Another memory of the Barn, this time a phrase he had learned from Barley. Inhaling as much as he could, he barked at the top of his voice, “NO!”

The thing stopped in its tracks, eyes losing some of their pale light. It tilted its head, licking its invisible lips again.

Just as it lifted a paw to take another step, a yowl sounded off and Terror turned its head to be greeted by a lunging Speckletail, her claws out and slashing at its face. It yelped, high and loud, and Fireheart stumbled backwards as Speckletail landed in front of him.

“Run!” she shouted. “Run and hide! Come on!”

Fireheart didn’t need to be told again; he whipped around and sprinted the way he had come, eyes darting left and right, looking for safety. Speckletail panted close behind him, followed by heavy footfalls and an equally heavy, much more monstrous panting from the creature.

“Split up!” Speckletail said, and suddenly her footsteps and breath veered away to the side.

Fireheart kept running, almost in a panic worse than the fire could have done to him, until his eyes caught the black log. Without a second thought, he dove into its innards, pressing himself hard against the deepest corner of the tree.

Wild-eyed, he watched the outside, waiting for the thing to poke its head in and discover him. But all he heard was scrabbling, a shout of alarm, and then snarls, accompanied by a shriek of fear and anger. His heart beating almost too hard for him to stay standing, Fireheart shook violently, fighting to get his body to move and failing.

Come on, he wanted to shout to himself. You weren’t like this during the fire! Speckletail could be hurt right now! Get moving!

But he couldn’t do anything. He tried to force his paws to move and only succeeded in crumpling to the ground.

Shortly, the snarls stopped, and heavy pawsteps galloped out of hearing range. Still, it took a long, long moment for Fireheart to be able to stand, shaking all the while, and poke his head out of the log to see what had happened.

One of the charred trees stood marred by claw-marks, coal-bark splintered off and spread on the ground around its trunk. Below it lay Speckletail, bleeding into the snow, her red life surrounding her and leading off into the dark fog. The beast was gone.

Fireheart’s panic flared again, this time pushing him to race for his deputy and circle around her, nudging and nosing.

“Speckletail!” he whispered, loud as a whisper could be while staying one. “Are you alive?”

Nothing but a ragged wheeze. Speckletail’s front legs were both bent backwards, her neck loose and stretched. Blood oozed out of multiple half-rings all over her body. She smelled oily and like saliva.

Fireheart looked around wildly. He couldn’t shout for help, or it would come back. But he couldn’t run to find someone and leave Speckletail alone.

Desperate and with no better ideas, Fireheart grabbed Speckletail by the scruff and started dragging her backwards in the vague direction of what he dearly hoped were the neutral grounds. Speckletail offered no resistance, nor support. Her breathing went quieter.

“Stay with me,” Fireheart pleaded through his teeth. “We’re getting you help. Just hold on.”

Speckletail wheezed again. Her neck where Fireheart gripped her was oddly soft.

“Just hold on,” Fireheart repeated, dragging as fast as he could. “Keep breathing.”

The search backwards was painfully slow. Fireheart stumbled multiple times, but he never loosened his bite and he refused to pause even for a moment. The snow crunched underneath his paws and a bloody trail dug through the white ground.

All the while, Fireheart tried to encourage Speckletail, even as he struggled to breathe and his limbs started shaking with the effort.

“Stay with me,” he said, over and over. “Keep breathing. Please.”

Speckletail said nothing the entire time. Fireheart kept talking, losing awareness of what he was saying.

An eternity passed before any noise came from behind him. He gingerly lowered Speckletail’s head and neck back to the ground and turned around, praying to every spirit and god he could think of for it to not be Terror again.

He could have cried with relief as Sandstorm and Willowpelt appeared out of the fog, out of breath and with wide, frightened eyes.

“We heard dogs,” Willowpelt said quickly. “What happened?”

Oh, Fireheart thought dimly. It was a dog.

“It attacked us,” he said weakly. “Speckletail got caught while I hid. We need to get her home—maybe to a vet or something, I don’t know, she’s pretty badly beaten up—”

“Fireheart…” Sandstorm went around him, crouched and nosed Speckletail. She looked up at him, morose. “She’s dead.”

Fireheart stared at her. “No, that—”

He used a paw to nudge Speckletail’s head, which loosely rolled back into place. He sniffed her muzzle. Not even the slightest breath.

“No,” he barely managed to get out in a whimper. “She can’t… no, she…”

Something rested on his side. Fireheart jolted as Willowpelt came to stand beside him, her eyes deeply sad and sympathetic. Her tail lifted away from him and she gave him a grieving, but resigned look.

Fireheart couldn’t speak. He could barely breathe.

Sandstorm hung her head, but stood up and sighed. “What now?”

Willowpelt looked at Fireheart, as did Sandstorm. He belatedly realized he had been asked a question, and could barely get an answer out.

“We need to bring her home,” he managed.

The mollies nodded in unison, and Willowpelt joined Sandstorm on the other side of Speckletail’s body. Working together, they hauled her onto Sandstorm’s long back. Fireheart did not pay attention to how he took the lead and began the slow journey back to camp.

They didn’t say a word the entire walk.

[miss-dollette]

Ghiaccio’s backstory and (Het.) Romantic headcanons.

Backstory:

Spent most of his time alone, as he felt isolated from the other children because they were afraid of his temper. He was intensely sensitive to others and made sure to express his feelings in the way he showed them the most - rage.

His own siblings didn’t play with him for the same reason. Though they lived in the same home, Ghiaccio was territorial and would snap at them for playing with his toys. It wasn’t just yelling, it was physically destroying things and hitting them with strength fed by his rage.

Extremely intelligent and sporty, his parents praised him for those qualities, but besides that, he wasn’t acknowledged all that often. Instead of getting him help for his anger as a young boy, his parents decided to not bother talking to him, because they’d rather not accidentally trigger him into a rage fit.

This led to him to feeling like a stranger in his own Home. A sense of dread would swell in his chest, as he felt his own family had abandoned him. Despite how he expressed himself, he had a deep love for them, but he was troubled by his overactive anger.

Him and his father would get into fights the most. He began to deeply dislike his father as he grew older.

Puberty hit him like a truck, and his anger issues were fed by his hormones like gasoline. His parents sent him to a school for troubled children after he had gotten expelled from his school for beating another child so badly, he had fallen into a coma.

It didn’t do much to help him, it only made him angrier. And soon enough, his parents couldn’t handle a growing Ghiaccio anymore, and he was given up into the system to be raised by the government. They were afraid of what he could do to his siblings on a bad day.

At Foster care, he began to run away, fighting police officers when they came for him, and he’d spend weeks on end in juvenile detention centers, where he almost thrived in that violent environment. Most of his cell mates were moved to other cells, because he’d beat on them for annoying him.

In the detention centers, he’d spend most of his time vigorously working out, and reading Winter sport magazines, raging when he read anything about his favorite athletes losing or do something stupid. But his favorite thing to do was hurting others. Any excuse would be used to fight.

Once he turned 18 and aged out of the system, he returned home one last time, and beat his father, and was officially exiled from his family.

Found work at a dock, lifting heavy shit and moving things around. He took his first life there. He had killed his former boss with his very fist. An insatiable hunger for the thrill of taking a life bloomed at that moment.

Now a fugitive on the run, he found himself working for Passione as a petty thug, intimidating and beating the crap out of anyone that he was pointed at. His talent for violence and his clearly intelligent mind moved him up in the ranks, until he was summoned by Polpo, and was given his Stand.

Risotto, who saw potential in him, personally asked for him, and trained him into a fine assassin.

La Squadra Di Esecuzione was formed, and Risotto’s investment paid off. Ghaccio was a natural born killer.

Romantic:

Overprotective, to an overbearing degree. If he even gets a hint of disrespect in your direction, the subject of your ire’s nose would be smashed in by his fist (and my god, does he have some power behind those punches), and you’d have to beg him to stop before he kills the poor fool.

On the upside, you don’t have to worry much about disloyalty on his end. He’s loyal as loyal gets. And yes, he is possessive. Once you make your mark on his heart, you’re his - completely. And that’s because it stems from an insecurity from his childhood, where he felt as though everyone who should have stuck around didn’t. He couldn’t bare to lose you. So he’d subtly isolate you from others.

Jealous as hell. This man will monitor you, probably following you when you’re out and about because you didn’t answer your phone that one time, making him spiral into a puddle of insecurity, just thinking about you canoodling with some other guy (fucking).

Would never physically abuse you, but he’d punch the shit out of a wall (classic white boy move) when he got pissed off.

He would need constant reassurance from you if he thought your relationship was threatened. And he’d make constant decisions for you. Partly because he wants to help you, but also to reinforce his dominance over you.

Would try to isolate you. He’d take care of things, under the illusion that he’s being a good boyfriend, but it’s really about you not being exposed to anyone who could take you away.

Don’t even think about wearing those skirts you used to wear before you got with him. He’d control the way you dress, like some fashion dictator. Anything that could get someone else’s attention would drive him completely nuts. He would also want to protect your dignity from prying eyes. Paranoid, much.

And he would have misogynistic tendencies. Not exactly an outright misogynist, but some of his behavior will stem from him being male, and you being female. He would expect loyalty, submission and obedience from you, like a good girlfriend. He would be more likely to disregard your thoughts. He wouldn’t forget what you said, but he wouldn’t give it much mind.

He would limit your independence because “you’re too good for this world, and this world would destroy you.” How touching.

Wow, he would be really toxic as a boyfriend. But he would definitely have a good side.

Could be incredibly sweet and tender when it’s just you and him. He’s a show, don’t tell kind of guy. You won’t hear “I love you,” but you’ll know it.

He doesn’t “half-love” this guy loves with his whole being. He would share his thoughts with you, feeling as though you’re the only one who could fully understand him.

Total show off. Would totally use his stand to ski down the side of a mountain in the middle of the summer just to see your reaction. Would freeze a lake to take you ice skating because he hates how crowded ice skating rinks are. He would do some dumb ass, shit that would equally scare and excite you. Like, picking you up and skating with you in his arms at fast ass speeds. You’d be begging him to let you go, but laughing and giggling at the same time.

Remembers everything. If you mention something you like, he’ll cultivate your interests, gifting you presents of your favorite things.

Overall, a very intense guy, but has a whole lot of heart.

@thus-wrote-mrs-zeppeli

[celaenaeiln]

I know you don't really talk about Tim and Jason but I wondered why you said that Bruce likes Jason more then Tim when I always viewed it the other way around

og post in reference

Anon it's a such a coincidence for me to get this because this was something I actively debated over while creating the ranking.

In fact, originally I had written "4. Jason/Tim (tie?) 5. Tim/Jason (tie)" before I got rid of the slashes and ties.

This is the one part of the ranking that I'm most confused on/don't have an exact answer for. The rest are solid and those I'll be explaining in a different post soon but these two gave me a lot of confusion.

I think what it comes down to is in which shitty way that Bruce treats either of them expresses more love. And to me they're roughly the same in equally but different bad ways.

Bruce obviously loves Jason but he's also not remotely proud of him. His relationship with Jason is always "I love you BUT-" kinda relationship.

"You're good-

Batman (1940) Issue #415

BUT-"

Batman (1940) Issue #415

"You're loveable-

Batman (1940) Issue #410

BUT-"

Batman (1940) Issue #411

There's always an opposing side to every good thing Bruce says about him. He views Jason as a failure but he still loves him and yet can't help putting him down. After Bruce dies, he leaves a message for Jason -

Batman: Battle for the Cowl Issue #3

Like Bruce full on treats him like absolute shit. How could you as a parent tell your son straight to his face that he's a failure and then say that it's your fault?? Somehow this is adding more insult than injury than to just blame him directly.

Bruce and Jason had good and bad times when he was Robin. There many times when Bruce was like "Good job, lab!" and other times when he struggled to deal with Jason. There was one case in particular that soured their relationship irrevocably. Things became really bad between them after that such that Bruce actively fights with himself not to lose his temper at Jason more than he used to.

For example:

Batman (1940) Issue #426

Things get worse and worse, Batman benches him, Jason runs off to Ethiopia, and then you-know-what happens. In summary of their Robin-Batman relationship, Bruce thought he found a good partner in Jason, was happy for a while, but then started believing he made a mistake when Jason used the skills he taught him to go past the limits of what Bruce was acceptable with. The secret Bruce talks about is that one irreversible case I mentioned - Gloria/Felipe - where Jason killed a man. Or atleast Bruce suspects he killed a man.

Batman (1940) Issue #422

Batman (1940) Issue #424

When Jason came back as Red Hood, Batman felt so guilty for the fact that he made Jason robin because then Jason wouldn't have died but also believed that Jason was beyond saving. When Jason was at the hands of the society because of Black Mask who wanted revenge on him for what he did, Bruce almost let Jason die a second time - this time intentionally - before he changed his mind last minute and joined the fight to help him out.

Batman: Under the Red Hood Issue #10

It's this type of relationship I struggle with because Bruce very much loves him and even says so -

Batman: Hush Issue #11

But also guess what tips him off that he's not fighting Jason?

Batman: Hush Issue #11

I call this confusing but Dick calls this something else entirely.

Batman: Battle for the Cowl Issue #3

Tough love.

Maybe, but I guess how I would make out their relationship to be is: if Jason acts within Bruce's expectations, then Bruce loves him. If he doesn't then Bruce doesn't hold back hitting and punching. I don't think their relationship is tough love as much as it is conditional love. There are conditions to the way Jason must act in order for Bruce to love him and if he doesn't act that way then he stops caring about his son. He's happy if Jason comes to gatherings but doesn't particularly care if he doesn't. He leaves Jason alone if he follows his rules but actively goes after him if he doesn't. Both in his Robin days and now, Bruce doesn't tolerate Jason if he acts outside expectation but still loves him and although it's not the kind of love you would appreciate, it's also not the kind you can set aside and call it nothing. It's complicated. That's Jason and Bruce's relationship.

Tim on the other hand, he's very proud of. He thinks Tim is excellent, smart, dependable, and loves him very much.

Batman (2016) Issue #128

But I feel like Bruce takes him for granted.

Bruce was both neglectful and very involved in Tim's life.

Bruce means a lot to Tim in the sense that he was a true father to him.

Batman (1940) Issue #480

Tim's dad Jack gets really worried that Tim might consider Bruce more of a father than him. "Maybe - But I'm your father, Tim. Not him!"

The developing relationship between Bruce and Tim was based originally on need. Bruce needed someone who he could work with and Tim needed someone who could be there for him. As time evolved that need turned into liking which turned into love.

After Jason, Bruce needed someone who listened to him completely. Someone who never questioned him or doubted his orders and Tim was everything Bruce needed and he loved that.

Batman (1940) Issue #467

Bruce invested a LOT of time into Tim's training and he also depends on him heavily but at the same time I feel like he constantly brushes off Tim's words and worries.

Robin (1993) Issue #9

Batman: Urban Legends Issue #10

The classic "I trust you but I know better than you" x 10. And it's this thing that gives me doubts because I get this inexplicable sense of distance in their relationship. Bruce loves, trusts, and cares for him but I feel like there's something missing.

This being said, I realize that there's no clear explanation as to why I feel this way so I'll change the ranking back to "tie" for the two of them like I originally had. Because while Bruce loves Jason, he doesn't tolerate him and while Bruce loves Tim, he kinda disregards him in a way. And between these situations, I can't decide what represents more love or favoritism. I guess a part of me just felt really, REALLY bad for the way Bruce treated Jason. That post kinda shredded my heart so I gave him brownie points on the favoritism ranking list but in hindsight, after all this and writing it all out, I think Bruce loves Tim and Jason equally. It's entirely possible Bruce may actually love Tim more because unlike with Jason, I can't provide evidence of Bruce distancing himself from Tim in loving - only left with more of a sense. So in this case I agree with you, anon. It's very possible.

[persistentplums]

No matter what you think about Brock and Rusty one thing is true they raised those boys together. And anyone will tell you kids pick up qualities of their guardians/parents which influences how they go about things.

The influence of Brock on Hank is simple, it’s the one the show starts off with and we see easily throughout the show. I wish they could’ve done more with Dean and Brock, unfortunately they don’t overlap enough to do something with but when they have overlapped the small moments, you stretch it you can see the impact Brock has on Dean.

“He believes in this stuff, not like Hank.”

“I have watched you pull a man eye from his head, made him dance like marionette with his own optic nerves.” “At least I didn’t break his heart.”

Heart is Brock entire thing. He is punished for his act of heart going against OSI and getting Billy and Pete together, him racing back in PROM, his attachment to the Ventures, and funny enough his lack of any real love life is because Brock does things true to his heart even when he’s not supposed to (“you’re a tool for the government.”)

That’s super easy to see in Hank, he follows his guns, jumps in, doesn’t second guess if he’s wrong. For Dean it comes out in belief of there being Good Guys. Something Brock shares. For a man who has no real issue with murder the idea of “Good guys” is a thing he sticks with very seriously. Dean copies this to a Dorky level coming off naive but it’s literally the same packaged differently.

Hank knows though everyone is just some guy, a bad guy or a good guy you are just some guy. A lot like his dad in that respect, when you understand this is all a game you can’t really bother with genuinely thinking of sides just how you interact within it. (Hank not really put off about dating Sirena even if her dad is his dad arch. That’s more of an obstacle that they are put into arch and protag categories so he can’t date her normally bc it’s not an actual *thing* for him)

Dean however is under the firm belief there are sides, they can work together sometimes bc he’s seen it, but like Brock, he believes in sides and gets riled up by it.

Speaking of riled up, Dean has Brock temper. I didn’t think much about it to be honest, it shows itself twice physically (Rusty Camp, radiant of the baboon) but when I hop around episodes now I see it in newer episodes. Dean temper is similar to Brock when he is really pushed off the need to protect or save another quality that is picked up by Brock.

Brock aggression is something Dean who is used to seeing it come out when he, hank and doc need protecting, saving, or an affective tactic. Another thing is Brock was and probably still is both boys example of classic masculinity in contrast to their dad (I’ll get back to this on another post.) I think Dean unintentionally mimics it, and I kinda believe we would’ve seen more of it if Dean was put into more situations where he was worried for someone else since the Rusty camp one was for Triana and the movie was for Hank. (Both against Dermontt which shouldn’t count but I am which I will get to in a different post about jealousy in VB)

Brock is the stereotypical “man” he protects the home, he kills to protect, his basics are that man spiel I don’t need to say we know it. Brock masculinity is never questioned really, it oozes out of him and is loudly punctuated. When it comes to sex it’s the same thing, to a problem. I think Dean inherited that, im not saying the one time Dean did a shitty sex related thing makes him like Brock but I actually think it’s more of a Brock move than Rusty weirdly enough. Probably because Brock has hooked up with people wives/gf but that’s not the reason why I say it.

Dean reason with hooking up with Sirena wasn’t really solid, because I don’t think there was a solid reason he did it just because it was happening. That’s why I think it’s more of a Brock move. Rusty we’ve seen talked himself out of being with women who even like him, yes he hooked up with a fan bc she was a fan. She wasn’t someone who can end up seeing his flaws, end up maybe loving back because love is frightening for Rusty because he wants it. If there was a room and a woman who was slightly interested in Rusty, Rusty would magically get out of the room then COMPLAIN he is out the room. We see it repeatedly he will make up reasons really get in his head to jump ship only to stick to people who don’t love him. Or like him.

Hank is the same line but opposite, he is open to love! Yes like Brock his attention to who is quick and focused but Hank is committed because he wants to be loved. Hank is scared of not being loved, he worries although less obviously or loudly about it, and leans hard into it. Action man called him on it, that he resembles Rusty in being downright too attached.

I’ll be honest here it’s so unlikely to actually see it but once you see the Rusty in Hank you’ll end up seeing the Brock in Dean. I remember a YouTube comment saying “Dean is all the negatives [of other people] it’s why I don’t like him.”

I don’t hate Dean, I don’t love Dean but I get Dean so while I don’t 100% agree with that comment I do get it. Dean picks up sometimes the worst traits because he’s so easy to imprint on. He’s funny like that, weirdly easy to leave an impression on but unaware how he repeats things of people he doesn’t want to. Brock being promiscuous, Rusty nostalgic past, the idea of what is important to a man etc Dean mimics it unknowingly. I don’t think that was the root of hooking up with Sirena, (bc the reason is bs yall) I’m just thinking of domino effect of parenting.

There’s a lot of Rusty in Dean literally everything Dean has is Rusty. But where they don’t match up are the core, Dean now understands his dad and they are the same brand of Venture boy but I really think Brock influence on both boys is there for good and bad it just harder to find in Dean. But I think it comes out when Dean stops letting his mind run too much, when he trusts himself, when he’s standing up for something, when he lets his body drive.

But I’m just spitballing! I just don’t believe Dean is all Doc, just like Hank isn’t all Brock. We just didn’t get a lot of time with the boys switched around

[pinejayy]

Heyyy sorry if this is weird or anything but can you do the upper moons with a s/O that has a gen Z like personality 😭 like they got teleported to other world yk like head cannons of what it's like you can ignore this or swoosh away but PLEASE DO THIS🫶🫶🫶

sure thing! I hope you enjoy these!! sorry for the long wait! uwu // I'm gonna add the clones and muzan as a bonus

Upper Moons with Gen Z Personality S/O

Kokushibo

Honestly he would be so confused, he doesn't understand why you're dressed differently and also talk different. And you like messing around with him by saying "YEET" or "OOF" And he's like what's a Yeet.

And one time you grabbed him book and threw it across the room and yelled out "YEET" and he just looked at you, ah that's what a yeet is. Yeah he doesn't like it, don't do it again. Unless you wanna be yeeted out of life.

You should be lucky he hasn't killed you yet because wow he finds your humor kinda annoying, considering he enjoys some peace and quite while you're here with crackhead energy.

The Upper Moon Demon wonders if you were dropped on your head as child, why would you be acting like this. But he does care for you, even though you get on his nerves.

He finds it odd that you find humor in everything, like you two could be on a date and you'll burst out laughing at anything and crack a joke too.

You're his special little something so he'll protect you. The other Upper Moons don't saying anything about how annoying you are because since he's number 1 he'll probably rip their heads off.

Douma

Oh boy! He would be so confused about your weird humor, but he'll love it honestly. He loves how you giggle at something random and then you'll add a random ass joke too. He finds you entertaining. Like a little clown.

You taught him the meaning of "YEET" and he loves abusing it, like imagine him throwing a women's head at Akaza and him saying "YEET"

Oh I'm sure the both of you would love pulling pranks on Akaza. Like imagine throwing a bag of flour at him. And you'll guys be like "Get recked!"

Ahh! He loves it whenever you praise him because come on, he's an Upper Moon Demon and you're nothing but a human. So you better being telling him "SLAYY"

You taught him more words like "Slay" "Oof" and "No Cap" and the other Upper Moons hate him even more. Like to the point where they wanna rip his head off. And they hate you too, like how did he mange to become more annoying.

But since you're with him you keep him busy and away from them, so don't have to deal with him. But the Upper Moons do appreciate you keeping him away from them :))

Akaza

He honestly finds you kinda annoying and funny at the same time, like you act more annoying than Douma but he doesn't hate you like he hates Douma. But he does get used to your odd sense of humor.

Whenever you guys are hanging out and he needs to rant about something he'll talk to you. And you'll be like "Spill the Tea!!" And he would be so confused, like you want to spill tea? Wouldn't that make a mess.

He doesn't allow you near Douma! Never!! Imagine if you two were to meet he'll go crazy and he's afraid that your odd humor is gonna rub on Douma so he doesn't want two idiots running around.

He loves talking crap about Douma and you'll be like "PERIOD" while you snap your fingers. Earning a look from Akaza.

But within time he'll get used to you, he thinks it's funny that you're kinda weird in your own way. Sometimes when you guys are cuddling you'll saying something like "I like apple and bananas" And he'll be like "Me too Y/N." While patting your head.

You're so special to him and he'll do anything to protect you and he'll keep you away from everyone else.

Hantengu

Bro is gonna cry whenever he doesn't understand your jokes. Like why are you laughing at something randomly?? He doesn't understand!! He's going to throw a huge temper tantrum.

Whenever he's crying you'll go to him and be like "Stop being a snowflake." And he'll cry even more, why are you calling him that! He's not a snowflake!! He's a Demon!! An Upper Moon Demon.

You do love him but you also love T-Posing him and of course he'll be crying a lot...he's so confused.

You stop your non sense when you guys cuddle. He's the little spoon of course, and this is the only time he'll catch a break from your jokes and humor.

The other Upper Moons wonder how you're even with him?? Both your personalities don't match what's so ever, but I guess whatever catches your boat right.

Imagine whispering in his ear. "You're Sus." He'll cry...poor babey.

Gyokko

Honestly he would find you very annoying, like he honestly doesn't know why he doesn't end you, maybe deep down he does care for you but you're still pretty annoying to him. Just don't push his buttons too much, he will kill you oof.

Like imagine him showing you his newest vase and he's like "Look at this beautiful vase!" And you'll be like "LoOk At ThIs BeAuTiFuL vAsE." And you two would stare at each other in silence. "Did you just mock my art?" Silence and you smile and giggle. "DiD yOu JuSt MoCk My ArT."

He could have killed you for mocking his art but he hasn't, he truly does care about you...just don't push it.

He finds you funny, sometimes. And he's shown you off to the other Upper Moons. And they all think "Ah the funny looking demon gets the funny S/O"

You like telling him his art is "BUSSIN" and he's like??? What does that even mean??

"Hey Gyokko have you ever heard of the word Yeet?" You told him while holding a vase of his... RIP YOU

Gyutaro

He'll be very confused about your jokes and humor, he's never heard of them. So he'll like to learn some of your jokes so he could make you laugh. And you do teach him some words and jokes and he's confused as heck!

You make jokes like "Hand over your things! This is a STROBBERY!" While holding a small strawberry. He found it weird but he chuckled softly.

IF ANYONE WERE TO MAKE FUN OF YOU OR SAY ANYTHING MEAN TOWARDS YOU, THEY'LL BE SIX FEET UNDER!

You're his little special human, his human with odd jokes but your his :))

You love telling him. "You Slay!!" And he'll just reply. "I know, I love slaying humans.."

He's always giving you head pats when you make a joke or a funny comment. And you love getting head pats from him uwu

BONUS!!!

Hantengu Clones

Sekido would find you very annoying, like to the point where he wants to rip your tongue off, Aizetsu would find you kinda odd but he loves you no matter what, you're his special little human. Both Urogi and Karaku would love your funny jokes and humor.

Sekido used to have two dumbasses to look out for *coughs* Urogi and Karaku. And now he has you too!! Great!! But in reality you love sharing your jokes with both Urogi and Karaku.

Wow imagine Aizetsu crying in the corner crying, and curled up into a ball because Urogi, Karaku and You are T-Posing him. And he's crying because he doesn't understand what's going on. And of course Sekido yells at you guys >:(

But the four Demons do love you, even grumpy ass Sekido.

Whenever Sekido gives you a threat and you'll just stand there like "BET!"

Aizetsu is the victim of your jokes most of the time. One time you went to him and were like "Hey Aizetsu...I think i've caugh Ligma.." And he would be worried for you and answer "Oh no Love! What's Ligma??"

You just stand there with a huge grin on your face... and boy started crying when you told him the joke.

Muzan

Oh no, he'll find you annoying...very annoying.

One time you told him a "Ligma" joke and it was your last words.

Yup! You're dead..

He won't even eat your body, he's afraid of catching your sense of humor.

[levis-nut-dump]

~Break Away~

Description: Drug dealer ex boyfriend Connie tries to make you jealous.

TW: Drugs, gang, fluff, cursing

You never liked Connie Springer much. Since you were thirteen he was trouble in a small package and now you're twenty and he's trouble in a bigger package, which is why you weren't surprised when your six-month relationship was cut short because of his line of 'work'. You weren't too fond of being around a bunch of guns, drugs, and gangbangers every time you want to hang out with your boyfriend, you weren't cut out for that life. Not even two weeks later, Connie found someone who was.

You found the news out through a mutual friend of yours, Sasha Braus, she also hated Connie's work but knowing him as long as you have she knows just as well there's no pulling him from it.

"Already?!" you yelled.

Sasha jumped. "I mean, yeah. But that's ok, right? Your relationship was mainly physical and you don't like him that much anyway."

The truth is, you have grown to like Connie as a partner over the last six to seven months. You also found him sexy as you did dangerous. "Well... Whatever! Just how can he move on so quickly?! With Jackie nonetheless!" You grabbed your car keys and slammed your apartment door open.

Sasha jumped from the couch. "(Y/N) Where are you going?! He's around his people and Jackie's just as dangerous as he is! Don't do anything rash!" she begged.

"Fuck Jackie and FUCK Connie. I'm giving that prematurely grey jackass a piece of my mind!"

"Jackie?!"

"She can get in my way if she wants to. She doesn't mean shit to him. Connie's wanted me for years he didn't move on that fast. Jackie is just to make me jealous and it's not working." you say getting into your car.

Sasha crouched to talk to you in the passenger side window. "Are you sure about that?" she giggled.

"Are you coming or not?" you say with aggravation filling your body.

"Yes but only so I can keep my two best friends from killing each other. This is why we don't date in the friend group." Sasha said getting into the car.

You start the car on the way to Connie's corner. "You're dating Jean, who is in the same friend group." you point out.

"Jean who's not a gangbanger."

You flip Sasha off.

Finally, you get to Connie's corner hideaway. An old building he and his guys use to plan their moves. "Ok, so what's the plan? Do you have like a weapon or something or are we gonna take the sneaky app-" Sasha started.

You turned the car off and got out, slamming the door which alerted Connie around the corner as he smirked.

"Connie Springer!" you yelled turning the corner to Connie, his guys, and Jackie sitting on his lap. In front of them was a table full of guns, large bags of weed, and a white substance you didn't even want to know about, but you weren't scared, your ego was bruised. You weren't the violent belligerent type but when your pride was hurt no one was safe from your temper.

"Hey Connie." Sasha smiled and waved from behind you, fearful of the table that possessed at least three charges. Maybe Sasha's the only one exempt from your temper.

"Hey Sasha. (Y/N)." Connie grinned.

"Fuck he's so sexy." you thought. "You're kidding me, right? Jackie?"

Connie sighed. "We broke up babe. I moved on." he said cocking his head to the side.

"Yeah right. It would be more believable if it were with anyone but Jackie Fletcher." you scoffed.

Jackie got up and Sasha backed up. "And what's that supposed to mean? What's wrong with me?" Jackie asked putting her shoulder-length blonde hair into a ponytail and taking her earrings out.

"It means you have more STDs than Connie has warrants." you grit through your teeth.

Connie's boys laughed and this set Jackie off. "Bitch you better have the hands to back that mouth up." she said stepping closer

"My mouth isn't as 'trained' as yours but I bet my fucking hands are just as good hoe."

Jackie ran up and you don't know what happened but the next thing you knew you were on top of her punching her over and over.

"Guys take Sasha upstairs I'll take care of this." Connie ordered. As the guys were carrying out his command Connie went to pull you off Jackie. "Alright. Alright Tyson she's out!" he said finally getting you to your feet. You quickly turn around and push him. "The fuck (Y/N)?!" he yelled.

"What you want some too?" you asked, pushing him again.

"I'm not gonna put my hands on you (Y/N)." Connie said softly.

You push him again. "Why not?" You pushed him against the wall "Fucking pussy. Fight back." You slap him on his left cheek.

Connie stared at you with a hazel deadly glare that snapped you back to reality. Sometimes you forget just how scary he could be as he towers over you weighing two hundred all muscle. "You want me to put my hands on you (Y/N)?" he growled switching you against the wall faster than you can blink. "You come in here, yell at me in front of my guys, insult my girlfriend, then beat her unconscious. After that, you have the nerve to come at me?" He put your chin between his fingers and made you look him in the eyes. "You're so fucking sexy." Your lips smashed together in a sloppy kiss. You run your fingers through his short grey hair as he undoes your pants and drops them to the ground. With a small bite of your lip, Connie breaks from the kiss and peppers your neck.

For an hour, years of pent-up hatred and anger were released against that wall.

[ipostwhatiwant1202]

As a Dad: Raph Edition

Authoritative

• we can all agree that as burly and as hard headed and as gruff and as *violent* as this man can be, this man adores kids

• yes as he matures he becomes more level headed but nothin knocked his head on straighter than having children (again biologically by a miracle or adoption)

• screw the books, he's gonna watch movies and wing it

• very patient for the 0-8 month stage with the crying and getting up at ungodly hours because hey, not the kids fault they can't talk

• loves naptime and tummy time the most because he loves baby noises...and yes, they do carry on a conversation

• definitely tries to get the kids to walk and talk as early as possible because they "need to learn quick to keep up with me"

• very hands on dad with bathtime, bedtime, and feeding time. he can't operate a diaper to save his life

• once the kid is walking and able to say some words, oh this man becomes prideful real fast

• ages 2-7 were definitely something else because he learned quickly silence was no bueno

• not a yeller but his voice does elevate to some degree, especially if his kids back talk

• that being said, while he doesn't have schedules for the kids (he leaves that to his partner), they do have to have some sort of a routine to keep them in line

• not a big stickler for bad grades but like leo, if the kids are genuinely trying their best and still get a C, he's fine with it...they better have a good reason for below a C tho

• his father was strict but still allowed him to be a kid, so he does the same thing with his own

• thus comes the 13-17 ages. oh boy.

• tries to channel his kids anger into ninjitsu, which works, but then it very quickly back fired cause now the kids are trying to kill each other

• his temper is definitely inherited by his kids and now he knows how his father felt, so he often goes to him for advice

• now his kids have to clean the house top to bottom and they can't go out for a week when they act up

• doesn't believe in physical punishments, rather he prefers to make the kids do things he doesn't like to do (example, clean).

• he teaches his kids how to be polite and respectful, especially around splinter

• don't let him anywhere near their homework.

• always asks the kids what they're up to and stays very involved with everything they do

• like leo, he's nonbiased when it comes to gender, but he's secretly dad girl coded

• has no problem getting on the floor and playing with his kids

• he definitely calls it babysitting

• he's the more fun parent but the kids also know not to give him attitude

• little girl wants dad to be a princess for halloween? no problem

• son wants dad to teach him how to kill a man? no problem

• will not remember school schedules...like at all

• makes sure his kids know how to sew/knit

• makes sure his kids know how to cook

• creates a space where they can always talk to him about anything

• obviously kids make mistakes, he just doesn't want them trying to lie or cover it up. honesty is key

• number one fan of the kids sports teams and never misses an event from the shadows

• definitely the parent that gets mad at the coaches

• calls the kids nicknames based on their height or distinct personality trait

• dad yawns and dad sneezes

• if his kid has friends, he needs to know everything about them for...science reasons

• definitely the "well i guess you wont do that again, will you?" dad

• he totally tells his kids their limb needs cut off if it's bleeding