#at least these stupid bastards make it all worth it

[green-alien-turdz]

This is Cartman's tattoo artist calling obviously

[vanillasweetpie]

spudsy’s shifts and dumbass rabbits (jax x reader)

i watched episode 4 and couldn’t resist writing this lil silly fic because i hate jax <3

you swear you’re gonna kill him.  

you don’t even care what happens after that, Caine can throw you in the void or force you into a therapy session with him, or whatever horrifying punishment his ai brain comes up with. it’d be worth it. it’d be so worth it if it meant shutting Jax up for five goddamn minutes. 

he’s been sitting at the counter, feet kicked up onto the register looking like he’s on fucking vacation, while you scramble around Spudsy’s kitchen. the fryer’s spitting oil, the soda machine’s doing that weird gurgling thing again

and Jax does nothing all shift except make snide comments about your “technique”, pretending to be Gordon Ramsay trapped in a rabbit’s body.  

“you’re gonna burn them,” he drawls, spinning one of the ketchup bottles like it’s a fidget toy, watching you flipping the fries.

you slam the fryer basket down harder than necessary and whirl around to glare at him. “maybe if you got off your lazy ass and helped, they’d come out looking better.”  

Jax snickers, tilting his head back to look at you upside-down. his ears flop over the back of the chair, and he grins widely. “nah, why would I do that when you’re doing such a great job on your own?”  

“Jax, I swear to #@?!—”  

“language, language!” he interrupts, wagging a finger at you. “what would Caine think if he heard you talking like that?”  

you grab the nearest ketchup bottle and launch it at him. and honestly, it’s more satisfying than it should be when it hits him square in the chest, splattering his black uniform with bright red.  

“oh, wow.” he looks down at the mess and then up at you, opening his eyes wide in fake surprise. “was that supposed to hurt my feelings? because it’s just pathetic, sweetie, really.”  

“pathetic?!” you’re halfway across the counter before you even realise what you’re doing, hands grabbing at his stupid clothes to yank him closer, practically face to face, however this damn bastard is taller than you, but you don’t back down.

Jax doesn’t fight it. in fact, he leans into it, daring you to say something else.

his stupid sharp smile only growing wider. “aww, isn’t it romantic. you’re starting to sound so obsessed with me, sweetheart.”

“obsessed with killing you, maybe.” your grip tightens on his shirt. Jax’s smile fades for a moment and his ears twitch what makes you think he might actually shut up.  

but no. of course not.  

“if i knew getting you riled up was this easy, I’d’ve started weeks ago,” his tone is so insufferably casual that you’re losing your temper.

you shove him back, harder than you meant to and he stumbles, nearly tripping over the chair he’s been lounging in all shift. you expect him to snap at you or at least throw some sarcastic quip your way, but instead—  

he laughs.

it throws you off just long enough for him to close the distance between you, his hands catching yours before you can storm off.  

“hey, you’ve got a little ketchup—” Jax swipes a gloved finger across your cheek, smudging red sauce where there definitely wasn’t any before “—right there.”  

you glare at him, opening your mouth to yell, but before you can say anything, he leans down and—  

oh.

it’s quick. as if he’s testing the waters, but the kiss leaves you frozen in place. his grin is back in full force when he pulls away, his eyes half-lidded. you stand there, dumbfounded, looking at his infuriatingly pleased face. the fryer beeps in the background and the soda machine gurgles again.

“there. now we’re even,” he says, stepping back and slipping out of your reach before you can punch him in the face.  

“you’re such a—”  

“Jax! y/n! get back to work!” Gangle's voice sounds.

you fucking hate him. probably.

[ev-arrested]

It’s literally so embarrassing to have a crush on a Robin. Imagine being in the DC universe and crushing on the least datable mother fuckers known to man.

I’m not saying they’re not hot or charming or don’t have qualities that make them stupid gorgeous and attractive, but everyone, and I mean everyone, should know by now that dating a Robin is the worst thing that you could possibly do to yourself. By a mile.

Dating Dick Grayson seems like actual hell. I don’t even think I need to elaborate because there are just too many reasons. I say this as a Dick Grayson enjoyer.

Good luck with certified rizzless Jason Todd. Asexual headcanon or no asexual headcanon, if you flirt with him, bro is NOT noticing. Have fun in pining purgatory.

Dating Tim Drake for his personality is already not worth it?? But then there’s the fact that this mfer will STILL cheat lmao (get it together, Cullen)

Stephanie.

Being a young hero and having a crush on Damian Wayne is actually just something you take to the grave. You don’t tell anyone that, Jon.

Don’t come for me—I love all these characters—but anyone in the DCU still crushing on these bastards is getting NO sympathy from me actually

[charliemwrites]

Awooooooo!

Content: Voyeurism, Dog Urination, Implied Non-Con Touching

Your dog is weird. Just.. just weird. Like, all dogs are weird. They have their quirks and their oddities, silly babies in fluffy bodies.

Johnny though…

He snuggles up in your bed every night; you don’t even bother trying to kick him out. He’s presses up tight against you, head almost on your pillow. Have to start sleeping in a shirt because one too many unfortunately placed cold nose bumps…. Yeah. But that’s fine. The fuzzy space heater is worth it.

(So what if you sort of wake up sometimes and half-dream its skin you’re snuggled up to. If you imagine a more human rasp to the quiet snores by your ear. If the tongue on your cheek is softer and smaller than you’re used to….

Your dating life has been dry for some time.)

Johnny pees in every room of your house at least once, but that’s not entirely surprising - he’s an intact male, after all. (Something you’re trying to, heh, fix. Though the appointment mysteriously keeps getting moved or cancelled.) thankfully, though, once he’s “marked his territory” he starts asking to go outside.

And that’s where the weirdness begins.

The first time you let him out off leash, he shoots off into the woods and only returns once he’s done. You panic, feel so stupid and irresponsible, near tears by the time he gets back. When he sees you upset, say on the porch steps, he darts to your side and leans into you until you calm down.

You stop worrying so much about his little “trips”. Means you dont have to clean up after him to keep the yard tidy after all.

The first time he bounds off into the woods and doesn’t come back after a few minutes, you almost go searching. But.., but well he’s a good boy. An hour later he comes back, scratching at the door.

You’re not sure what he’s up to and it makes you anxious. Don’t like the idea of an “outdoor” dog. All of yours have been in-home pets kept in sight at all times. You’re scared Johnny’s going to get hurt or bitten or hit by a car.

But he always comes back healthy whole.

One hour turns into two, then three. Entire mornings, only returning in the evening to climb into bed. Eventually a whole day. You have someone install a doggy door big enough for Johnny to slip through so that he can come and go as he pleases.

You get used to having a pet that’s only around sometimes, though you sniffle that you miss him when he’s gone. As if understanding, he’ll always lick at you, comforting.

The other weird thing - he demands to climb into bed while you’re doing “self care”. Again, dogs don’t get human social boundaries. He’s allowed on the bed so why is it that he wouldn’t be allowed up even if it’s not bedtime? It’s understandable dog logic, even if you have to stop the first several times it happens.

Keeping him out isn’t an option. Even if you manage to shut the bedroom door on him before he wriggles inside, he makes such a ruckus. Barking, howling, knocking over the trash and scratching at the door. You almost step directly into a puddle of pee once.

You just keep the lights off, close your eyes, and try to ignore the odd brush of fur or gust of air from his nose. Pretend he’s not there at all; and not staring the way he tends to.

Not getting off just isn’t an option. You make your peace with your dog too dumb to even turn away.

(You also learn very quickly to wash your toys as soon as you’re done. Can’t even wait to catch your breath. Calling him nasty makes his tail wag. You know it’s not reasonable to think he’s doing it on purpose.)

“Johnny, drop it!”

Instead of doing that, he drops his front half low, a lacy black pair of underwear in his teeth. He snatched it right out of your laundry basket while you were trying to start the washer.

“I’m going to turn you into a pair of boots. Put those down!”

Chasing a giant wolf-dog for your panties is ill-advised but what are you gonna do? Let him shred your underwear?

“I wanted to wear those out tonight, you bastard!”

You’re supposed to have a date. At this rate, you won’t even be able to shower, never mind get ready. Johnny’s been a nuisance all day, ever since you got off the phone with your mom this morning, updating her about your life and plans for the evening.

Determined, you give up and go to finish the laundry - only to hear a crash and a yelp. Johnny’s knocked over the mirror and stepped in the glass.

“Oh, baby boy,” you groan. “Dammit, John-Bon.”

You text your date for a rain check, then call ahead for the emergency vet. Huh… your first aid kit is much better stocked than you remember.

First | Previous | Next

Masterlist

[mncxbe]

ANNE DONT MIND ME PLS you write so good and reading these drabbles made me want to request one of my own !!

imagine professor!dazai giving u an extra lesson after class 🤭 it's 12 from the list btw <3

CHIYO MY DEAR♡ i'm so happy you requested this one. hope you like it. I made Dazai a literature professor👀♡

12 — Professor!char giving you an extra lesson after class

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: lowkey unethical, sex toys, semi-public space, creampie

"Keep reading, bella, you're halfway there."

Your professor's voice carried a hint of mockery as he soothed your thigh with a hand, pushing the silicone toy deeper inside you. You winced at the sensation, shooting Dazai a desperate glance over your shoulder.

Osamu Dazai was the new literature professor at your college– some prodigy kid who finished his PHD by the age of 25 and whose novels sold like hot cakes and now everyone was singing him praise. Frankly, you weren't too impressed by his accomplishments, but he was the only professor in the whole faculty who actually encouraged you to write something different, out of the norm; so you did anything to stay on his good side.

Even if it meant helping him around the office and fucking him from time to time. Not that you'd complain, Dazai was incredibly good looking and knew how to please a woman.

So naturally, when your professor asked you to come to his office after class you expected a quick fuck, as usual.

But the smug bastard had you bent over his desk with your panties lowered mid-thigh and a vibrator shoved up your pussy, making you read the assignments your colleagues turned in while he made snide comments on the side.

"Was that supposed to be a metaphor? 'The mist of the summer evening' what's that supposed to mean? God, I swear these texts are getting worse and worse..."

"Ngh– 'samu please" you whined, shifting your hips "Can't we just do this later?" The ache between your legs was almost unbearable, you needed him inside you, not that stupid toy.

"Sorry, bella, I have to grade this paper by 6. The kid's coming to discuss it" he mused, watching your walls clench around the toy with keen eyes. God, your pussy was divine– his pants were tightening just by looking at you.

Reaching a hand towards you, Dazai touched your folds, gathering your slick and smearing it all over the inner part of your thighs. "My, my, you're dripping, dear. Better hurry up and finish reading if you want me to fuck you properly" His deft digits found your bundle of nerves and gave it teasing flicks.

Your mind was starting to get foggy, the sentences melting into a jumble of letters as you struggled to read the last paragraph out loud. It was painfully embarrassing, the way your body jolted up as he drew slow circles on your clit with his thumb, how desperate you were to have him inside you. All the while, Dazai was toying with you, playing with your pussy like it was his favourite toy.

The second you were done with your paper you let it fall on the desk next to you. "Done, I'm done." you huffed out, looking over your shoulder to see Dazai's teasing smile.

"Good job, bella. I think it's worth at least 60 points. I mean, it's a progress from the last assignment he turned in. What do you think?"

I think you should stop messing around and fuck me already– you wanted to say back but all that came out of your mouth was a breathy yes, sir. i'd say so too.

The man got up from his chair and slowly ran a hand through your hair. You could hear him unbuckle his belt and lower the zipper of his suit pants, your hips swaying in anticipation. "You're such a pretty girl" he hummed, removing the toy from your pussy with a wet pop and alligning himself at your entrance "And obedient too. I think you deserve a reward ah shiit—"

A broken whine slipped from his lips as he slammed himself inside you, the grip he had on your hips growing fiercer. Fuck, your cunt was basically sucking him in. You were so damn perfect he swore he could spend all day fucking you and it wouldn't be enough.

Your moans filled the tiny office, the smell of your arousal lingering in the air, fueling the man's need. His hips snapped against yours, the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot with each thrust. "Y-you're so tight bella think 'm gonna– fuck i'm gonna cum soon"

"Me too me too 'samu" you mewled as the tight knot in the pit of your stomach snapped and you came around his cock, soaking it in your juices.

It wasn't a surprise you came so fast, he'd been edging you for hours and you were so sensitive. Even now as your walls pulsed around him, Dazai's fingers found your puffy clit and your body jolted up. "W-wait 'samu you can't I just–"

"Want you to cum again with me, donna. Can you do that for me?" he huffed out and your pussy fluttered at the sound of his breathy, whiny moans, pressure building up in your core again.

When the two of you reached your high again, his hips halted flush against yours, his milky cum shooting deep inside you. The man's breath was ragged and he hissed when he slightly pulled out, watching the sticky substance form a ring at the base of his cock as it dribbled out of your hole.

Something sparked inside him at that moment and he quickly flipped you over, caging you between his arms as he leaned over your frame. Droplets of sweat clung to the tips of his hair as he pressed his forehead against yours "Can we do it again?"

"But Dazai we just–" you wanted to protest but he cut you off with a deep thrust, making you choke out a moan.

"Don't care bella you don't understand what you do to me I can't get enough of you" he sighed, slowly, almost lovingly, rocking his hips against yours, his lips ghosting over your cheeks, jaw and down the expanse of your neck, making you shudder. You'd lie if you said that his confession didn't stir something inside you too.

Before you could answer, a knock on the door snapped both of you out of the intimate moment you were sharing. "Um... professor? You said I could come by at 6 so we can discuss my paper"

𐙚prompts closed

[bunnliix]

Most to least likely in Skz to casually give you their black card for purchases

Since I'm having a lil trouble with a writing block today, I figured I'd post this up haha

Also, this is totally inspired by the video of Woozi giving Vernon his card to pay for a bubble wand.

Chan

This man would be so casual about it. You wouldn’t even need to ask. He’d notice that you're getting ready to go out, and instead of handing it to you, because he knows you'd try and hand it back, he would slip it into your wallet or purse for you to find later. He wants to take care of you, and this is one way that he can. He'd also act like it's nothing to give you his card, because to him it truly is nothing. Taking care of you is his biggest priority besides Stray Kids.

2. Minho

He would be casual about giving you his card, yes but it doesn't mean that you'd get it easily. He just wouldn't want to make a big deal about handing it to you for you to buy whatever it is that you want. He'd still be a cheeky bastard about it, just quietly and only for you to see. However, he also enjoys that you allow him to care for you in this way, and never truly minds you using it. Plus you use it to buy treats and toys for his cats, which he loves because his SO loves his cats as much as he does

3. Seungmin

Seungmin would also not make a huge deal about it. He would however be similar to Minho, and be cheeky about giving it to you. He would tease you a bit before and as he handed it to you, but never really withheld it because he knew you wouldn't do anything stupid with it and he enjoys seeing what you bring home from your shopping trips. You always give him little shows of what you bought. And if it's not clothing, you'd just be showing it off while telling him what exactly it is. He'd sit there smiling as this was his reward, listening to you chatting away as you showed off what you used his card for.

4. Felix

Felix would be super sweet about it. He wouldn't hesitate to give you his card, but he also wouldn't be silent about it. He'd make sure you knew that you could use it to buy anything. He'd also say something cute to you as he handed it over. He didn't mind what you bought with his money, he wanted you to feel happy, and if buying things you liked did that, then that was perfectly fine. He knows you'd have such a big smile on your face as you showed off all of your purchases, and no matter how much or how little you spent, it's all worth it to see your smile.

5. Hyunjin

Look, he's here because as much of a drama llama as he can be, I think the drama would more so extend to him begging and pleading to go with you. He'd want to be a part of the shopping experience, not just see the results of it like some of the others would be fine with. So either you'd have to give him a good reason why he can't come with, and then he'd give you the card after some whining, or you'd have to agree to him coming with. You'd still have to show off everything after you got home, even if he went with you. He loves seeing you dress up and show off for him.

6. Innie

He's a menace, he's gonna be loud about giving you his card. He will tease you about it, but only around the boys, he'd never do it publicly, or loud enough to attract strangers attention. He'd never be that much of an ass about it, but you'd have to put up with his antics before he'd hand over that black card. You'd learn that he did it out of a teasing love, knowing that he never had any problem about giving it to you, he just liked to be a menace.

7. Han

Okay, he's going to be pretty braggy to people that he has enough money to spend on you, that he has a black card that he'll freely give out to you. He's told you many times that he doesn't care what you use it for, and willingly hands it to you for even the smallest purchases. He brags to the boys way too much about it, but everyone knows it's because he's proud to be able to provide for you. He also is very touchy as he gives you the card, making sure you know he wants a show when you come back home afterwards.

8. Changbin

This man is going to be the loudest and most proud man about the fact that you're using his card. He doesn't care who hears him, he will brag to everyone about it, but mostly the other boys. He's just so proud to have enough money that allows for him to provide for you. He wants to treat his partner right, and that includes letting you spend his money any way you want. He'd definitely want you to show him everything you bought, even if it's something little and not worth showing off. He wants to see what you liked so much that you bought it. He's just a very vocal person about this, he's the type of person to brag about their partner, and this gives him yet another reason to.

[shadesoflsk]

DRUNK WORDS ARE SOBER THOUGHTS

pairing: arthur morgan x fem reader

summary: arthur didn't believe he was worthy at all. however, you made it your duty to turn harsh words into self love.

warnings: reader is drunk, mentions of death, a bit suggestive at the end.

word count: 1.7k

Arthur was a man of few words. Blunt and straightforward statements were his way to go. He was well-spoken, don't get it wrong. But it seemed that his knowledge in words shone the brightest when a plethora of adjectives slipped from his lips at the sight of him in the mirror.

Staring back at him, was a madman. A garbage at most. Dull, horrible, and not worthy of a penny even though a bounty was placed on him.

However, life worked in mysterious ways when someone appeared in his life. He was no longer a cloud on a sunny day but a star in a clear sky. His eyes, at least for now, had a glint that has been lost ever since…—he doesn't know when or which was the ultimate instance in which happiness left his life.

You were a sight for sore eyes, a bandaid for a wound. A one and only in a world of forever ‘ifs.’ A constant where finite was the sole possibility. And lastly, a sweet fragrance mixed with the smell of gunpowder and death. 

However, he seldom thought about a calm life. He was not deserving of silence since it meant replaying his life through his eyes. Maybe that’s why his own mind was sabotaging his happiness. Life as an outlaw at least gave him a purpose, trying not to get killed left him with no time to dwell on his own low self-esteem. 

“You ugly bastard…” Sour as always but not less honest. In his mind, it was a payback. An attempt to not be in debt with life or whatever entity above him. He didn’t deserve a good life, so a few insults at himself would make things even.

Despite the harsh words he shared with himself, there was a chirping but endearing voice that told him otherwise. Ugly would be replaced by beautiful and old with young. 

But words weren’t enough if his shell was hard to crack. Therefore, the change had to come from him and not from a third person. 

"Arthur….” An intoxicated voice called him and brought him back to reality, to his reality. Both of you have shared some drinks that led to being somewhat drunk. Alcoholic beverages affected you a tad more than him, but that didn’t mean you were unconscious.

You were indeed very conscious.

“You know I love you, right?” And perhaps his own demons subtly pull him to believe your words are just drunk rambles. Lies mixed with a hint of just neediness and stupidity. No wonder, he doesn’t let you drink. Because he now has to deal with the slow poison of not being actually loved.

Damn you.

You share a cabin, you share a room and you definitely share days in which boredom was the pillar of your new life. A boredom not less welcomed but still so foreign to the rough man. But of course, in his messed up mind that didn’t mean you loved him.

“You’re drunk…”

His insecurities drowned out any joy he could feel. Dismissing your words was easier than accepting a reality he had never experienced.

Loving himself.

“I am drunk. You’re completely right sir.” The little show you were giving him was rather amusing. He had dealt with a drunk you many times before, but now it seemed there was a sense of purpose behind your actions. 

“But I’m simply telling the truth.” A waterfall of I love you’s escaped your lips. As if every one of them tried to make its way deeper into his system and plant a seed of self-worth.  

Clumsily, your body fell on top of him. However, you were conscious enough not to knock him towards the bed but rather straddle his lap. A poor attempt at caging him and stopping him from evading your words.

A faint of irritation coursed through Arthur as your voice rose slightly. But not at you but at his own incompetence of believing your words as beautiful as they sounded. Nonetheless, he was weak when feeling the warmth of your body embracing his. A reminder of you being alive and well next to him.

“Quit your rambling and sleep, you drunken fool lady.” His words may have sounded harsh but deep down, a tender tone hid behind his call out. Especially with how his hands protected you from falling. 

A smile formed on your face as you felt Arthur’s hands on your lower back. A few months ago, you had told him you felt safe with him, his reply was no more than a scoff but that moment wouldn’t leave his mind. And although he could only see the hands of a killer, he ought to protect you no matter what.

That was the least he could do.

“You may say that but…” Your hand caressed his stubbled cheek. “Drunk words are…” A hiccup escaped your lips. “Drunk words are sober thoughts.”

And they damn were. Even when alcohol wasn’t running through your veins as it does now. I love you’s were more common than greetings at this point.

“You ain’t makin’ any sense, woman.” He whispered, brushing back some hair that was sticking to your forehead.

“You don’t make any sense either, Arthur Morgan.” You replied, this time a bit more serious than all of your previous ‘yapping’.

He groans, knowing you were right. There were days in which his existence didn’t make any sense, at least for him. 

You knew that this simple talk wouldn’t do anything to the so-wounded Arthur. His heart has built an armor so strong that not even truthful words could destroy it. You shifted in his lap and slowly moved closer to him.

“Let’s do something else.” A glint appeared in your eyes as you came up with an idea to sort out the root of the problem.

However, Arthur completely misunderstood your intentions.

“I ain’t doin’ nothing with you. Look at the state you’re in.” He stated firmly. 

“You fool of a man. It ain’t nothing to do with that sort of thing.” You softly punched him in his chest, not really aiming to hurt him but rather reprimand him. 

“Just… hear me out, okay?” Your eyes locked with his blue-ish ones. Amidst the drunken state you were in, your intentions were as clear as if you were sober. “You’re gonna repeat after me, got it?”

“I don’t like this.” Arthur muttered, his nose scrunching up a bit.

You paid no mind, already getting your plan to work. “Listen closely.” 

A hint of curiosity flashed through his eyes as he couldn’t really make out what you wanted him to do. 

“I love you.”

Arthur rolled his eyes at your words. Words he had heard (and said) so much. But there was not a day he did not yearn to hear it from your lips. 

He couldn’t help but sigh, a facade to hide how much he was starting to let himself drown in the feeling.

“I love you.” He finally obliged, his eyes squinting when he saw you grinning.

“Oh honey… I know.” You cooed but your chuckles were obvious to a confused Arthur. You were light-heartedly teasing him.  “But you were supposed to change the ‘I’ for ‘You’ and the ‘you’ for ‘me,’ silly”

“That’s not what the word ‘repeat’ means.” His words are accompanied by his own self of teasing. Maybe this wasn’t such a bad idea.

“Shut up Arthur….” 

“A little demanding for someone who can’t even sit straight on my lap.” And finally, a feeble smile adorned his face. 

“Go on.” You frowned, already waiting to continue with the little game or experiment you were both taking part in.

“You love me?” He repeated questioningly, expecting some kind of correction on your part.

“Very much.” You emphasized, letting your words linger in the air for a bit before coming up with another phrase, another affirmation he had to repeat. “Now… ‘I’m worthy’.”

He furrowed his eyebrows, he hadn’t even said the word yet and it already felt so foreign to him. Worthy of what?

“Say what?” He feigned ignorance, knowing damn well what your little plan was. A playful smile was on his face.

“Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you.” You persisted, not allowing him to escape from the inevitable. “Repeat it.”

You gently held his face, your noses brushing in an endearing display of affection. And for a few seconds, both of you just stayed there, embracing the warmth of shared love and unspoken intimacy. 

Maybe he was indeed worthy. Worthy of having someone next to him every time he wakes up. Worthy of having a warm meal every day, and having someone he could so easily love.

Both of you are grinning like idiots, you were drunk on alcohol and he was in the love you were—or rather always provided. 

Reluctantly, slowly, and carefully. He thought about those two words and let them set in his brain before saying them. 

“I’m worthy.” He finally repeated… or confessed? His mind was still adamant to believe it. But acceptance is the first step for a change and you have taught him about the art of betterment.

A lump formed in his throat as he looked into your loving eyes. A feeling of purpose suddenly rushed back to him. After all these years, this was the first time he actually felt worthy. 

“So worthy…” A loving kiss was pressed against his lips. Your words were a silent prayer and the dim room was your sacred place. If God existed he surely did an amazing job forgiving him. 

Arthur’s eyes fluttered closed as your lips locked with his. He was no stranger to your affection but damn he would never say no to them. A strange sense of hope washed over him, maybe this was the beginning of a new era.

He had everything, it was time to enjoy it.

“So worthy…” He repeated even though he wasn’t mean to. Those were your words, but now he managed to sing them as if they were a song he was learning. 

And the phrase was repeated over and over that night. When your eyes got tired of being opened and when the alcohol finally took its toll on you. It was repeated when you finally fell asleep and he admired the face of his life partner. And it was repeated over the course of days, when he found his home inside of you, letting his body show how much he adored you.

Arthur was a man of few words. But now, his mental dictionary was completed and the insults were soon replaced with only words of affection.

Worthy of life and love.

[ninyard]

Ravens trying to taunt Jean but he’s not registering it, he can’t hear them over the stupid song Jeremy got stuck in his head

Renee thinking he's reciting off the things that keep him grounded and make life worth living. Nope. He's just... Sunshine, lollipops and rainbows everything nice wonderful is what i feel when- because Jeremy got it stuck in his head before the game.

But Jean is also. That Bitch. And I can see a healing version of him absolutely dominating on the court just simply not caring at all about what they have to say.

Raven: WHORE!

Jean: Do you have anything else? I have heard that four times already.

Raven: FUCK YOU!

Jean: Thank you!

Raven: FRENCH BASTARD

Jean: Ah, but at least I am not American. That would possibly be far more embarrassing.

[trippinsorrows]

ltye: sleepless nights

authors notes: been sitting on this lil thing for about a month or two now, cause it didn't feel long enough to post tbh. it takes place while solana is away at residential treatment. after she meets fetu but before she comes home.

warnings: fluff, light angst, and some light suggestive content

words: 1.5k

masterlist

It’s stupid.

A silly fucking thing for a man who has no tolerance for things of the sort.

Ridiculous to even think, and yet he’s thinking it. 

Thinking of actually doing it.

Roman sighs and turns his head to the digital clock on the nightstand.

2AM. 

Of course. 

The fucking witching hour. A period of time that, for him, can occur at any point during the night.

And since Solana has been away receiving treatment, an occurrence that happens damn near every night.

It’s not since she’s been gone that Roman has realized just how beneficial she is for his sleep. How much better he sleeps when he has her soft body tucked into his side and how awful it is when the space beside him is cold and vacant. 

Dulce’s slightly louder than necessary breathing brings Roman to scoot over on Solana’s side of the bed to see her curled into a ball, slumbering peacefully without a care in the world. He won’t call it jealous. Just something of the sort.

Granted, Roman is also well aware of the fact that Dulce woke up several times in the middle of the night during the first week of Solana’s absence. She moved around in her bed, walked around the room, even sat and waited by the door.

Solana. 

She was looking for Solana. 

Solana

Her name boosts his previous horrible idea back to the surface, an idea he wishes would just go away but something that seems to nag him. 

It’s inconsiderate as fuck. Just because he’s up at almost 3am in the morning doesn’t mean that she is.  

Which is why he shouldn’t even be thinking about doing what he wants to do. Even as he grabs his phone. Even as lifting it from the nightstand causes the screen to light up, revealing her smiling face. 

Even as he unlocks that phone and is met with another photo of her on his home screen, as he navigates his way to her contact and hits the call button. He hates it. Hates that he’s really doing this and decides that he can’t be such a selfish bastard.

Roman is seconds away from ripping the phone from his ear and smashing the red button and—

“—hello?”

Fuck.

Regrets. So many fucking regrets. “Hey.” What a stupid thing to say. 

Solana makes a sound on the other end followed up with a quiet, “are you okay?” 

Hearing her say more than one word help Roman clue into the fact that her voice is much softer than usual, quieter than typical, drowsy almost. 

Again, fuck.

“Shit, you were sleep, weren’t you?” Of course, she fucking was. As are most people at such an ungodly hour.

He can practically hear her small smile on the other end of the phone. “It’s okay.” No, it’s not. He’s a selfish piece of shit, especially given the fact that he knows she also struggles with sleeping. “You can’t sleep, can you?”

Not at all. “Something like that,” he grumbles. “I’m sorry. Go back to sleep.”

“No.” Her objection is firmer and louder than the attributes of her previous statement. “I’m up now and—”

“Because I woke you up.”

“Talking to you is better than sleep, Roman….”

He gets quiet at that, partially disagreeing, mostly wondering if there’s something more to the statement.

“Have you been having them again?” He doesn’t need to specify what they is. She already knows. 

There’s a moment of hesitation. “Something like that.” Her voice is thick and right away, it makes him wonder if she was in the midst of one when he called. 

“Do you want me to come?” There’s no type of thought that comes with the offer, just an intrinsic, organic thing that only feels natural.

Again, that small, non-visible smile. “Ro, it’s almost 3 o’ clock in the morning.”

“And? Not like I’m doing anything else.” Because it’s bad enough he woke her up. The least he can do is make that worth something. 

“It’s not safe for you to be on the road this time of night.”

There’s so much irony in that one sentence. An infinite amount. “Driving in the middle of the night is probably the safest thing I’ll ever do in my life, Sol.”

Truly.

Honestly.

Roman can practically picture the frown on her face. “I don’t want you doing that just for me. It’s not necessary.”

“Anything you want is necessary, Solana.” It is. Always has been. Always will be. He looks over at the side of the bed where Dulce continues to sleep peacefully. “I’ll only be gone a few hours. I’ll have one of the guards take Dulce out if she wakes up before I get back.”

Hesitation on the other end. “You….you said you don’t care about the rules….right?”

Clearly. Obviously. Especially given the fact that he’s climbing out of bed, readying to drive an hour away just to see his wife, who’s currently staying in an inpatient facility. Fuck the rules. “Not at all.”

A sigh followed by what sounds like shuffling of blankets. She’s either rolled onto her back or side. “Could you….could you do something for me then?” 

An easy answer. “You know I’d do anything for you, Sol.” Anything at all. “Name it.”

Another delay that precedes a nervous request. “Can….can you bring her?”

Of all the things he expected his wife to ask, that definitely wasn't included in the list of possibilities.. “Dulce?” 

Roman moves over to the dresser and pulls out some basketball shorts, as Solana explains. “I miss you, but....I miss her, too. And, I haven’t seen her in a few weeks.”

He nods, glancing at the puppy. All things considered, she’s well behaved. She only really barks when she’s hungry, needs to go outside, or sees a random gnat that she believes to be a threat. 

He’s pretty confident he can bring her in without her causing a scene. Not that he really cares, either way. No one will be stupid enough to try to say anything to him. Of that, he’s sure. 

“Okay.”

Solana gasps. “You’ll do it?”

“Of course.” Roman knows how attached Solana is to Dulce, and vice versa. It’d be good for both if they could see and interact with each other.

And, he gets to see his wife.

Everybody wins. 

“And……bring her bed, too.” 

Roman pauses at that, chuckling while sliding on his shorts and moving over to his closet to grab a hoodie. “How long you planning for us to stay?”

“What time do you have to leave?”

“Whenever you want me to.”

She’s the one chuckling this time. “I never want ya’ll to leave.”

Roman stills for a minute. Another mutual sentiment. “I know.” His eyes settle on another of his hoodies, one he recalls her wearing once, as she’s taken up a strong liking to wearing his clothes around the house.. He pulls it off the hanger to bring to her. A thing of comfort, potentially. 

For when he’s not there. 

“I’ll bring it,” he agrees.

“Thank you.” She sounds immensely grateful before her voice slips into something almost unsure. “It’s just….she….she’ll probably go back to sleep and since….since you’re here and….we haven’t….it’s just been…...”

Roman catches on relatively easily, hence him reminding her with all the boldness. “You want me to fuck you, don’t you, baby?”

“Roman!”

He smiles to himself, imagining how red her cheeks must be. Even with all her progress regarding their sex life, talking about it still seems to make her uneasy. 

Roman chuckles, pointing out, “You didn’t answer the question.” 

A quiet, whispered answers. “Yes.”

Roman makes a sound, deciding to up the ante. “Can you do me a favor then, sweet girl?”

More shifting on the other end. “Roman…..”

“Take off your underwear,” he instructs. “I want you ready for me.”

Another unexpected answer that nearly has him dropping the phone. “I’m not—I’m not wearing any.” 

Fuck. 

Roman has known his wife to sleep in a variety of items, starting with unnecessarily baggy clothes to normal pajamas, progressing into skimpy pajamas, and landing into mostly just one of his shirts with no bra but still underwear. So, he’s at a bit of a loss as to why she’s so underdressed.

And then she moves into a stammered, flustered explanation. “I—before I fell asleep, I was feeling…you know….”

He does know. He knows exactly what she was feeling.

Roman has to control and contain himself as he finds his grip on the phone tightening, much like the hardening growing in his boxers. “Did you think of me?”

It’s a fucking miracle this man doesn’t right come right then and there when she answers so breathlessly, “I always think of you when I touch myself.” His eyes shut and dick twitches in his boxers. “Just….just like you told me to.”

It’s a tremendous amount of will that has Roman able to resist the burning urge to walk Solana through phone sex, partially because he’s not sure if she’s ready for that. Mostly because that’s not enough for him. 

He physically needs her.

Roman’s jaw tenses as he grounds out, “I’m on my way.” 

Ain’t nobody getting no sleep tonight. 

[otomehonyaku]

DIABOLIK LOVERS More,Blood Stellaworth Complete Set Tokuten Short Stories ☽ Yuma ver.

Original title: DIABOLIK LOVERS MORE,BLOOD ステラワース全巻連動購入特典ショートストーリ English translation by @otomehonyaku Scans can be found here (courtesy of @karleksmumskladdkaka!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

SUMMARY | This short story provides a slice of Yuma and Yui's daily life after the events of More,Blood. In the wee small hours of the morning, Yuma accidentally confesses to Yui why he loves gardening so much.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Please do not reuse or repost my translations elsewhere or translate my work into other languages without my permission.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

—I found myself thinking this gardening thing might be in my nature after all.

Early in the morning, well before sunrise, that damned Sow scurried over to me while I was working in the garden.

“Huh? Ain’t it a little early for ya? ‘Sup?”

“I just woke up a bit too early…” She came closer, seemingly brimming with energy to work on the garden. It seemed that she’d purposefully gotten up early to help me.

“You’re way into this, aren’t ya?”

“Huh? Into what?” Sow replied innocently, but it was a barefaced lie and she knew it. She knelt down next to me and eagerly started plucking wilted flowers from the cucumber plants. 

In truth, I appreciated her helping me out of her own volition. I picked up the pruning shears and got to work harvesting the cucumbers. After a little while, I had a basket’s worth of sizeable cucumbers, so we decided to take a break.

“It’s great to live a healthy lifestyle, ain’t it, Sow?”

“...It is, but the word ‘healthy’ sounds a little odd coming from a vampire, doesn’t it?” She smiled wryly and picked a tomato that hung from the plant right by her. I’d missed it when harvesting, but it was perfectly ripe, and so she popped it into her mouth.

“Well, I can eat whatever, but it ain’t gonna make me healthy, though.”

“That’s true, I suppose... Mmh, this tomato is so sweet!”

“Heh. I don’t really care ‘bout what I put in my body, but growin’ veggies like this is kinda fun, ain’t it? I did start out growin’ ‘em for the food, though.”

“Is it a hobby to you now, then?”

“Somethin’ like that,” I said, munching on a cucumber. When I was younger, I had to grow vegetables to survive, but much about me had changed since then. Now, tending to the garden was simply a way to kill time.

“But…”

“Hm? What is it?”

“Well, I’m happy that you enjoy eatin’ the veggies, at least.”

Sow’s face flushed instantly. “Does that mean—are you growing these vegetables especially for me?”

“What? You… you idiot! You really that stupid, woman? Ain’t no way!” I retorted, thrown off-guard. 

Maybe the refreshing feeling of the morning sun had made me blurt out the words. My true nature (1) was starting to peek out, and I needed to keep it away from her at all costs. 

“This kinda lifestyle just suits me. All I wanna say is that I’m different from those Sakamaki bastards!” I shoved the basket of cucumbers into her hands. “Here! Hurry up ‘n go make breakfast with these before Ruki ‘n the others wake up!”

“Okay…!” Sow happily took the basket from me and took off in a jog back to the mansion.

“Heh… That was close.”

After swearing to myself one last time that the garden was nothing more than a hobby—a way of killing time—to me, I grabbed another ripe tomato from a plant nearby, popped it into my mouth, and got up.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

(1) 本音（ほんね）: One’s true self or true face, as opposed to 建前（たてまえ）, which refers to the façade you keep up to conform to society's standards.

[gay-dorito-dust]

HIII can I request Mk1 Bihan hurt/comfort where you’re REALLY upset with him/worried for him after he’s been gone for days with no communication with these prompts i got from your list 😼. “where have you been? do you know what time it is?” and “you said you’d only be two hours. two!” and then maybe ending it with fluff like i just want him to hold me when i’m sleeping lowkey (even though he doesn’t seem like an affectionate person i feel like he would show it with actions rather than words yk) (i hope that’s not too specific 😭

I’m honestly glad to see someone actually use that prompt list, so thank you anon. 🦦 ooc Bi-Han? Or did I make him too mean?

You knew Bi-Han could handle himself and you knew that if he could see you as you were now, fitfully sleeping, biting your nails, worrying yourself sick over his well-being and whereabouts, he’d scoff and remind you that he wasn’t a child to be worried over. You’ve had your past frustrations with Bi-Han when it came to you and your overreactions -as he would put it- in regards to him going on long missions but at least during those other missions didn’t include the loss of communications.

Kuai Liang and Tomas both tried to quell your worries by reaffirming what you already knew about Bi-Han but after some time you began to grow more and more frustrated at how this ice cold bastard, who would often regard you in cold stares and long solemn silences, whilst continuously invalidating your thoughts and feelings, had made you feel so helpless and so fearful on his behalf; despite fully knowing that he wouldn’t have spared you a single thought if your positions were switched. So when Bi-Han finally decided to return later in the darkest of night, needless to say you weren’t even in the slightest bit pleased to see him with the emotional turmoil he put you through.

‘Where have you been?’ You began, annoyance lacing your tone that only grew more evident when you noticed how unperturbed by all this Bi-Han was, as though it was something that he’d expect you to accept as the norm whether you liked it or not. ‘Do you know what time it is?’ You rhetorically added as you crossed your arms over your chest.

‘I don’t ever remember asking you to wait for me.’ Bi-Han puts bluntly as he brushed pasted you as though you weren’t even there, which caused a tightness to form in your throat at how easy it was for him to disregard you. Whilst his attitude towards you made you question your worth to him, It also made you mad at how he thought he could treat you with such little respect, it was an insult that stung you deeply and felt like a spit in the face to the way you were stressing yourself over this unfeeling man for two fucking days!

‘Trust me. I’m not at all pleased about loosing sleep over you either.’ You retorted bitterly, not wanting to look at him for the fact that you were both relieved and irritated of his seemingly safe return. You were relieved to see him safe and with minimal injuries as it silenced the anxious and ominous ideals of him possibly never coming home, which neither were based upon any solid evidence that that was going to be the case. And you were irritated about this because it only meant that your sleepless nights, frequent bouts of anxiety and stress were for nothing. Your worrying was for nothing and you truly hated the conflicting emotions that only Bi-Han could withdraw from you.

‘You said that you’d be gone for two hours. TWO! Not two fucking days with absolutely zero chance of communication to let us know, to let me know that you were alright! That you were safe and that you were coming home!’ You chuckled humourlessly at how stupid and pathetic your words must sound to him but this was how you felt, and to you your feelings were anything but stupid or pathetic. ‘But i guess that’s too much to fucking ask from the Grandmaster of the Lin Kuei.’ You finished getting everything off of your chest that you’ve been concealing for the past two days, only for them to be regarded with the indignant scoff of an annoyed Bi-Han.

‘I do not need nor want to hear tales of your concern and how worried you were and in regards to the loss of communication that had you so distraught, it was merely a minor hindrance. There was no need to inform anyone of anything, the only thing that mattered was accomplishing the mission, no matter what, even if that meant on the fly improvisation or even in the off chance of never coming back.’ Bi-Han said with a voice so cold you swore you could feel the goosebumps on your arms staring to rise. ‘I shouldn’t be held responsible for the emotions that you feel. You should’ve put more faith in your Grandmaster instead of allowing your own emotions to cloud your judgment, for they only serve to become your undoing during the vital moments.’ He finished and all without sparing a single glance your way as to gauge your reaction, not when he could practically feel it trying to suffocate him with how thick the tension became.

You didn’t have any words, even if you did you wouldn’t know how to articulate them without it come across as disjointed ramblings of things you’ve already said aloud. You felt humiliated and you felt ashamed for standing by and letting it happen but what else could you say to combat that? It was obvious that Bi-Han didn’t care and so after spending two days on the trot, you had truly exhausted yourself both physically and emotionally. You were too tired to keep fighting with a man who might as well have been an ice wall, so instead of continuing your attempt to make Bi-Han see how his actions affected you, you walked out of the room but just before closing the door behind you, you stopped to say; ‘At least I get to say that I am blessed to possess thoughts and feelings. Goodnight Grandmaster.’ Before leaving Bi-Han with his thoughts.

By the time Bi-Han came to bed you were fast asleep. In fact the moment your head hit the pillow you were already deep into the realm of dreams to properly tuck yourself beneath the covers. He welcomed the sight, content that you hadn’t left him yet despite everything that had been said prior, he didn’t have an valid excuse on hand to justify his actions as Bi-Han had become aware that how he spoke to you wasn’t a tone that one should take when speaking to someone they love, nor was the way he disregarded your thoughts and feelings were anywhere near acceptable either.

However Bi-Han found it impartial to vocalise his regret for the way he had acted but fount that he could express that better through other means. So he journeyed to your side of the bed to pull the covers over the top of you, making sure to cover you completely, knowing how you get when the nights grow colder as he quickly pressed a featherlight kiss to your forehand, lingering there for a minute to savour the moment. Bi-Han then moved over towards his side of the bed and tucking himself under the covers before moving himself closer to you until his front was practically pressed up against your back and his arms were caging you against him as to protect you from the dangers that would bring you harm. Yet under Bi-Han’s watchful eye, that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. He wouldn’t allow that to ever come to pass for how could he call himself your love if he couldn’t protect you?

[hellish-sunsets]

You're an Asshole - Pt 3 - Triumph

Pt 1 Pt 2

Summary: Adam was nothing if not stubborn and persistent, and eventually he finally manages to win her over for a night. (Or, Adam thinks he finally convinced her to fuck because he's charming or something. Man has no idea he's wrapped around her finger.)

Warnings: Cursing, Smut

Word Count: 2,845

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

Alright, so Adam couldn’t get her out on the first attempt. That was fine. He could be patient, when he needed to be. He would just get her at the next concert.

But she still didn’t leave with him.

So he tried again, and again, and again. He listened to more shitty music trying to get to that bitch. He was growing… far too accustomed to those bullshit sounds some people called music. But whatever, it would be worth it when he finally won her over and proved he wasn't an asshole. They would fuck and it would be great and he could finally move on from all this.

So he remained stubborn and kept it up. After the fifth ‘accidental’ bump in at a concert, she actually gave him her number with that bright smile of his,

“I like talking to you. We should keep texting.”

Something swelled in his chest, something he wasn't really willing to name. Victory, perhaps. Progress. Her friends hadn’t looked too happy about that, but she clearly wasn’t paying much attention to their warnings. Good. As pointlessly difficult as all this was turning out to be, at least her friend's displeasure wasn’t going to make it more difficult. Stupid bastards.

She texted him infrequently, telling him about various concerts she was going to, just in case he wanted to come too. He read the latest text over, one that seemed to hold more excitement than usual. The next one was a rock concert, and she was sure he’d have a better time there than the last one. He caught himself smiling at his phone and scowled. It was just because he was getting close to winning her over, he told himself. He definitely wasn’t developing any shitty feelings for some shitty woman. She could give him that shining smile as much as she wanted, could babble on with her infectious excitement for hours, could look up at him with those warm eyes, but it wouldn’t change a thing.

And maybe if he kept telling himself that he could pretend it was true. 

Who was he kidding, of course it was true. He had given up on love after his second wife left him. But, she was still hot. He couldn’t wait to bang her. 

And he was convinced tonight would be the night! He was in his element at a rock concert. He made sure he wore his best leather jacket, the one with only one hole nobody could even notice, and a nice shirt. Well, nicer. It didn't have any holes or stains. He couldn’t stand the same for his jeans, but oh well, at the very least he can say he tried. That's more than he did for everyone else. Just to prove a point, he told himself. 

There was a knock at the door and he headed that way, pausing at the hallway mirror. He ran his hands through his brown locks, making sure it was the right amount of messy. He needed to be irresistible. He smirked at himself, satisfied. 

Show time.

—-----------------------

The air thrummed with the sound of banging drums and heavy guitar. The crowd pressed in on them, the smell of sweat and the heat of the bodies hitting them from all sides. Adam felt right at home. 

He easily made his way through the crowd, searching for his little angel. She had told him to meet towards the front, by a specific pillar. Sure enough, he found her there with her usual friends. She spotted him too, giving a bright smile and waving him and Lute over. They couldn’t talk over the music, but that hardly mattered. He could use his dashing good looks and charming personality. Body language mattered a fuck ton in these matters. 

So he gave her his own dashing smile and sauntered over to bump his shoulder against hers. He felt more than heard her giggle. Nailed it! Her friends shot him weird looks, clearly unimpressed, but Lute shot them a hard look back, leaving them at a standstill. That didn’t matter, really. He was more than happy to let Lute deal with them so he could have fun and rock out with the hot bitch next to him. Ain’t nothing like it! And she was smiling and dancing and bouncing with the music, clearly having a good time. 

And for a while during that concert, he forgot about everything. He forgot about why he was there, forgot about his attempts at manipulation, forgot about why he was trying to in the first place. The thoughts in his mind, the constant nagging that he wasn’t good enough, that he was a failure, that he was an asshole and no one would love him… nothing he would admit to, to himself or anyone else, but was still there tearing him apart inside. Those thoughts didn’t exist. All that existed was the pounding music and the angel next to him and that beautiful smile and sparkling eyes that drew him in. 

He fucking loved rock concerts! This was the shit! 

And when the music finally faded, he could feel his blood boiling. He knew exactly what he wanted and he wasn’t going to play any games about it. This was his chance. The time had come and there was no hesitating. 

He leaned over, resting a hand on her waist and whispering in her ear, and she didn’t pull away but leaned into his side, her body fitting perfectly against his. 

“Wanta take this to my place?” He said in a low, rumbling voice, and she hummed, thinking it over. It felt like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. He may later regret how desperate he felt, but at that moment all he wanted was her, and it was a weird feeling. Cause yeah, he’s wanted to fuck plenty of bitches before, but this wasn’t quite the same, not that he was in the mindset to analyze his feelings or some bullshit like that. 

It was only a little hum before she was turning her head to whisper back in his own ear, her breath warm against his skin and sending a shiver down his spine. 

“Lead the way.”

He couldn’t have stopped smiling if he was threatened at gunpoint. His wings ruffled and puffed up and she giggled, taking his hand in hers. He led her away, giving her hand a squeeze as he went. He made sure to give Lute a grin and she nodded her understanding. He didn’t even bother looking at her friends. He didn’t give two shits about them. He was gonna get laid!

He was so fucking thankful he cleaned up his place earlier. Not that they saw it. 

The moment they were through that door she was on him, hands running up his chest before grabbing his jacket and pulling him towards her. Their lips crashed together, and shit, she had to have some flavored chapstick on or something cause fuck, she tasted like cherries. A growl was ripped out of his throat and he pushed forward, backing her into the hallway wall. She let out a small moan, opening her mouth for him, and fuck if that wasn’t hot. 

He had never been a really patient man, so he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to his room, fumbling for the light switch. And yeah, some guys liked fucking with the lights off but why on earth would he do that when he had such a fine piece of ass in front of him? No, he needed to see her, needed to see the faces she would make and the look in her eyes because he was determined to make them roll. Fuck, she would look so hot impaled on his cock.

She smiled at him, so tender and warm his thoughts stuttered to a halt. She leaned up to cradling his face in her hands, thumbs rubbing over the red in his cheeks. His breath caught in his throat as she leaned in, her lips brushing against his so gently. His tongue darted out to pick over her lips and she parted them for him. He groaned as she let him deepen the kiss once more. His hands went to her hips, pulling her body tight against his. He swallowed the little gasp she let out into the kiss. 

He didn't even know they had been backing up until she fell onto the bed, her smile turning mischievous as she dragged him along with her. He yelped in surprise, but he didn’t mind, not when she was laughing, the sound making his heart swell. And his cock. He didn’t know how to deal with the heart thing, but he had plenty of practice dealing with his dick. 

He reached for her shirt to help her undress, but she grabbed his wrists to stop him, her lips pressing against his pulse.

“You first.” She said, and it wasn’t fully a command but it felt like one. He rolled his eyes and huffed, making her giggle again.

“Fine, whatever.” But he couldn’t really bring himself to care too much when her hands were on his chest, brushing his coat down his arms. He pulled it off the rest of the way, tossing it onto the ground somewhere. He'd pick it up later. (He definitely wouldn't.) Her hands traced the edge of his shirt before diving underneath, her fingers so hot against his skin. His shirt quickly joined his coat on the floor.

“Now?” He asked with a huff, pulling roughly on her shirt. She thought for a moment and shrugged, sitting up to pull her shirt over head, quickly followed by her bra. 

Now they were talking! The sight of her laid out before him did wonders, wings spread out over his bed and tits out. God, she had the best tits, fit into his hands perfectly. So soft and warm. His lips were back on hers in an instant, all tongue and teeth as he groped her chest. She gasped and panted into his lips, hands frantically working at his jeans. His hips bucked against her hands, his cock already so hard and eager to feel her cunt around him. It sent a shiver down his spine when his cock sprang free, his pants and boxers joining her clothes on the floor with a kick.

Her hands roamed, from his stomach to his chest to his neck, pulling him closer to press her lips against her neck, making his cock twitch with the press of her hot lips against his skin. He moaned, pressing his face into the side of her neck while she lavished attention on his sensitive skin. His own hands wandered as well, roaming over her soft curves before landing on her thighs, parting them so he could sit more comfortably between, the new position perfect for grinding his throbbing cock against her pussy.

But he was an impatient man, and this was already taking much longer than he wanted. He reached down to grasp his cock, lining himself up with her wet cunt and pushing in. Her gasp and groan was straight up addictive, but not as addictive as her cunt fluttering around his cock. He pulled back and pushed in further, then further again, and he groaned into her neck before pulling away. He wanted to see the look on her face as he settled deep inside her. 

And shit, it wasn’t fair how hot she was. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet for me.” He growled, finally thrusting into her properly.

“Shit, Adam, you fit me so perfectly.” She moaned praise back, sending a delicious shiver down his spine and making him twitch inside her hot walls. The room was filled with the sound of her squelching pussy and his balls hitting her ass as he filled her and fucked her properly. Her moans and whimpers were like song, her nails digging into his shoulders, staring into his eyes and making his hips stutter. 

“So good,” he moaned, hands moving from her thighs, one settling on her waist, digging into her skin to pull her harder into each thrust, the other running up her body to her breast, messaging and playing with her nipple. “So fucking hot. Such a good slut for me, shit!”

And he did have a tendency of talking dirty when he fucked someone, but his voice caught in his throat when she reached up to cradle his face. His hips sped up at the look on her face, a mix of pleasure and so much tenderness it almost hurt, and he whined. Actually fucking whined.

“Adam,” she breathed against his lips, wrapping her legs around his hips, egging him on. “Adam, you’re so good to me. Fill me so good.” She pressed her lips against his, kissing him tender before letting him deepen it, desperate for more of her. 

He had never come so fast and hard in his life, or at least in a very long time. He buried his face in her neck again, hips snapping against her hard and fast, making her groan. He gave a final hard thrust, cock settled deep inside her as he came with a shutter and load groan. Her pussy clenched around him as he came and it felt like she was milking him of every drop. She sighed at the feeling of his come inside her, body relaxing underneath him.

But fuck, he wasn’t done. Couldn’t be. She hadn’t come yet, and if there was anyone in heaven or earth deserving of coming on his dick it was her. 

Being the first man had its benefits. He was made for fucking, to reproduce. Which meant he almost never came only once. 

She yelped as he suddenly grabbed her hips, tucking her wings in as he forcefully turned her around. He positioned her with a chuckle, chest pressing against her back, arm wrapping around her shoulders while the other positioned his dick against her cunt once more. 

“We’re not done yet.” He whispered into her ear, voice low and husky. “Not until you come too.”

He could feel his cum leaking out of her and used the head of his cock to coral it back to her entrance. He pushed it in, filling her with his cock again. Between her wetness and his come, he slid in much easier this time. He didn’t move right away, settling for grinding into her pussy as he settled himself on top of her, arm tightening around her shoulders while the other grabbed her hip, squeezing hard. She had to spread her wings out again to give him room, his own fluttering at the feeling of her body against his. She fit so perfectly under him like this. He guided her hips a little higher before thrusting into her. 

This time he didn’t bother starting slow. His movements were fast and hard, guided by the deep groans of pleasure she let out. He chuckled in satisfaction, leaning down to pepper kisses on the nape of her neck and shoulders. And while it felt good, so fucking good, her pussy was clamping around him so hard in this position, he was a man on a mission. He wouldn’t rest until she came. And based on the sounds she was making, wild and guttural, it wouldn’t be too long.

“Feel that? Feel me fucking into you? Feels so good doesn’t it?”

“Fuck!” Was all she could say, the word coming out strangled and needy, and holy shit if he thought he was addicted before it was nothing compared to this. 

“I’m going to come inside you again, shit, gonna fill you with so much of my cum. And you’re going to take it, aren’t you? Gonna take every drop I give you. Gonna come around my cock and force every drop out.” He groaned as he felt her cunt tighten around him, her body trembling underneath him as she buried her head in the pillows. Shit, it was so hot, seeing her come undone like this. 

Somehow, he managed to fuck her faster, and the sounds she made was straight up animalistic. There was no mistaking it when she came. He cursed as she clamped around him harder than ever before, pussy pulsing with the pleasure, her voice singing out her groans of release. And shit, there was no resisting that. He came again, vision going blurry as he cocked pulsed with her. 

Their bodies went limp together, both panting messes. He settled his wings around them, too lazy to get a blanket when he could stay right here, buried inside her hot pussy as they fell asleep together. It wasn’t like she was complaining, letting out a content sigh. 

“Thank you.” she murmured before she was out like a light. 

He felt triumphant and satisfied, lazily kissing the nape of her neck and behind her ears before he followed suit. 

He finally got her, and it was the best fuck he had in a long time.

[lovelornronnie]

(Click to enhance teh quality!!)

A piece I made for my fanfic "Paliperidone"!! You can read it here!! or click more on this post

"Paliperidone"

It was stormy nights like this that left Edd restless. Tossing and turning in his bed, trying to put his racing mind at peace as the booming sounds of thunder ensued. The hard pitter-patter of the rain came pouring down ever so violently, making a white noise that most people found comforting. But for him? It was what kept him up so badly at night.

It was nights like these that always made his thoughts race. The raging sound of the storm reminded him of the aftermath of the incident. The rumbling sounds of the storm sounded oh so similar to the explosions that emanated from the giant robot after Tom had launched that good-for-nothing harpoon that proved itself useful, the sounds of muffled rain outside his apartment sounding almost as reminiscent of the sound of the debris from said robot that came crashing down, scattering from each other as it fell. And the worst part? It made him think of when Tord came back to them, back to him.

He couldn't help but lay awake that night, his eyes so concentrated on staring at the ceiling as if there was anything worth looking at on it as his restless mind thought of that fucking traitor. The traitor that he still cared about, the one that he still worries for. Edd wonders what his life is like now, how he thinks of Tom for almost killing him, of Matt who overloaded his robot's system with his button mashing, of his self who genuinely cared so much, who wanted him back so badly... and for also joining in the button mashing with Matt.

He hated every thought that correlated to Tord, but it was something he just couldn't help. He felt so betrayed by himself for thinking that he finally moved on, finally didn't care, finally didn't yearn for that bastard. But tonight? It was as if he was back to square one, learning how to let go and move on. It made him feel so fucking awful, deep to his core. Because why? Why would he want to worry about someone who hurt his friends? Someone who hurt and betrayed him, with a ruthless smile on his face as he flew away into the sky? Someone who left almost everything he loved into a pile of rubble and dust, and killed the only tolerable neighbor that he had?

These questions were so unanswerable to him, that no matter how much he tried, he was only ever left more and more clueless. And even when he thought of an answer that was good enough to explain it all, it only made him feel sick. So he concluded that no answer would ever suffice. Eventually, on another stormy night, he'll find himself asking the same set of questions over and over again like a broken record player- feeling sick time and time again as he reaches yet another false conclusion.

Then a different kind of thought surged through, one that questioned all the things he wanted to come true. What if Tord came back to him for good and never left? What if he never made that giant robot in the first place, so that he had no reason to come back and leave him more broken than he ever was? What if they just...lived happily ever after? All together in one house having silly adventures and getting into all sorts of trouble? Edd yearned for the good old days and mourned for all the things that never happened.

The more he thought of it all, overanalyzing every bit of Tord's behavior and comparing it to the time when they were together and to the time that he went back, all the memories of them together from the first time they met, to the last time they ever saw each other. The stupid hypothetical questions he still clung to that he hoped would at least come true in another timeline. It made him feel so vulnerable. The tears in his eyes threatened to stream down his cheek, his face burning from the stress.

Edd sobbed his stupid heart out quietly, as the walls that separated him and his friends were thin enough that if he were to cry any louder, one of them would start frantically knocking with worry and annoyance. But then again it didn't matter how quietly he cried, as the rain was loud enough that it drowned out his miserable crying.

After crying for what felt like hours, he was left there sniffling, as small beads of tears formed and rolled down his face now and then. His cheeks were stained with tears that he didn't bother to wipe off as he lay there motionless. Echoes of a headache slowly disappeared, as the thoughts in his head started to ease in and stop. And for once tonight, he was at peace even as the storm violently raged on outside.

...

He then got up from his bed, thinking now was a good time to freshen up and wash the tears off his face. As he walked to the bathroom, he felt an odd wave of anxiety cover over him the closer he got to the bathroom. It made him dread something, but what? An intruder? His apartment was pretty secure, with cameras everywhere and a night guard in the lobby.

So why? Why was his stomach churning, as if swarms of butterflies were flying so violently around in him? He couldn't understand what was happening, why he was feeling like this. The closer he inched to the bathroom, the more anxious he felt.

Merely inches away from the door. He felt queasy, chest heaving and struggling to breath. There was nothing for him to be so nauseous and tense of, he felt that his fears were irrational and he was right. So why was he still feeling this if he knew it wasn't real? A gut feeling perhaps? Maybe his body was warning his mind of something it was yet to notice.

The last time he had a feeling like this was when Tord came back, or at least a couple of hangouts later after he came back... Wait.

Tord???

Tord.

No. It can't be. That's not possible. He was gone and he was never coming back...unless?

...

Unless he came back for him. Yes, yes that's it... He came back to apologize.

To make up for destroying everything. He's here to stay forever.... with him.

...

Yes, that's it. This explains the butterflies...his thoughts. How could he be so blind? This was the missing link! It was Tord! And he was finally back again, the real him.

Edd panicked the longer he stayed there at the door, his head full of thoughts of how this was all gonna go, and how he should react. Should he be happy, sad, or angry? How would Tord react? Would he be happy too? The more he thought of it the more of a wreck he was, shaking, breath ragged, sweating.

He finally reached for the doorknob with his sweaty palm, twisting the knob... he slowly opened it...

He couldn't hear any movement, no breathing. The bathroom was full of eery silence, and it only made Edd more anxious.

Finally gathering the courage to open the door, he swung it open enough for him to have a whole view of the bathroom, and there...

... was nothing.

Edd desperately looked around the bathroom, trying to find anything that was odd. If the shower curtain had moved 3 inches to the left if the window was opened by a little if the toilet seat had always been closed... but nothing

Tord was never there... and he never will be.

He looked to the ground and saw something knocked down on the floor.

It was a translucent orange bottle, his prescription for his schizophrenia.

[phoenixyfriend]

New Fic: Follow Me Out of the Black

AO3 Link

Written for @sourfacedlemon in the 2024 Anakin-Clone Appreciation Exchange.

Fox/Anakin, Time-Travel fix-it, Kidnapping

Also I sent this discord message to a server I'm in

And was confirmed correct because reveals had sourfacedlemon tagging 'called it' lmao.

---------

Fox is not the most… personable of his brothers.

He’s not actively antisocial, or one of those clones who’s more comfortable with massifs than men, even fellow clones. He doesn’t have trouble meeting peoples’ eyes, or get nervous to hold a conversation. He’s not the best at people, but he’s not impeded by anything. He’s not incapable, just unwilling. A grump. Tired and a bit short-tempered.

That was before he spent the better part of a decade with his entire personhood filtered through the control chip that ARC trooperhad tried to warn them all about.

And, of course, before Darth Vader threw him out a window to his not entirely untimely death.

That, dying at Vader’s hand for a stupid reason that maybe would have been worth a demerit under a clone officer, is actually Fox’s last memory. In the moment, he’d thought it almost reasonable; his failure had led to the escape of a Jedi, at least momentarily, and then… who knows. Maybe Vader got her anyway.

He wakes up, and thinks wait, that’s a ridiculous reason to kill a high-ranking officer, and then promptly realizes he can think without something muddling him.

He stares at the ceiling, which does not contain several familiar scratches, and does contain some flimsi holopics taped where he can see them, which he distinctly remembers taking down after Order 66.

Which is an order that now does not make as much sense as it did at the time. Fox wasn’t close to any Jedi, but they were all unfailingly polite, and his brothers in high-ranking field battalions had largely had good things to say. Some of them loved their generals as much as a brother. They wouldn’t have turned as quickly as Fox himself had, and yet.

And yet.

Fox stares at the holopics, thinking about what he knows, about the Sith Lord that is the Emperor, about the Sith Lord that once was—is?—Anakin Skywalker, about how many of his brothers killed their Jedi despite Fox being quite certain they’d have rather died than do so. He thinks about the control chip he’s now fairly certain was an actual mind control device and not just an emotional regulator.

Fox stares, and thinks, and then gets out of bed.

Fox is not personable, and that’s okay.

He’s got other skills to rely on.

--

It takes Fox four hours of planning, six hours of setting traps for Sidious, three days of putting together backups, and two weeks of waiting for Skywalker to be on planet and visit the old bastard himself.

It then takes him thirty seconds to tell Thorn that he’s in charge for a bit, two hours to arrive at the Senate building, and about three minutes to let Skywalker say goodbye to the Chancellor and get out of the man’s sight. It then takes some forty-five seconds to approach him, ask for help with something, and lead the man into a dark service hallway.

Three hours later, Skywalker wakes up in the interrogation room cum holding cell that Fox has set up about thirty levels below CoCo town.

“What’s going on?” Skywalker mumbles. He notices the Force cuffs before he’s fully awake, and jerks a bit as he tugs on them. It pulls him awake faster. “Wh—fierfek, what have you done to me? You can’t be a clone, they—”

“Chancellor’s a Sith Lord.”

Skywalker stares at him. Fox takes off his helmet to show his face, just so Skywalker knows that he is, in fact, a clone.

“…what?” Skywalker manages. “You—”

“Chancellor’s a Sith Lord,” Fox repeats. “I don’t have real proof. You are going to help me get it.”

“The Chancellor,” Skywalker says, slowly, like he’s convinced Fox is the crazy one, “is not a Sith Lord. The Jedi would know.”

“Jedi are busy, and Sidious is a good liar,” Fox dismisses. “You, he likes you. He wants to make you his next apprentice, after he has Dooku taken out. He’ll call you Vader. The armor is going to be stupid.”

Skywalker just stares at him.

“I’m not crazy,” Fox says, even though that does in fact make him sound crazy. “I’m from the future.”

That probably makes him sound crazier.

“The Chancellor is a good man,” Skywalker says. “I am sure this is all just some… massive misunderstanding, and if you let me go, I’ll get you to the mind healers and we can figure out what put these ideas in your head.”

Fox smiles. The word ‘mirthlessly’ comes to mind. “Nobody put ideas in my head until a Sith Lord activated a mind control chip, and then the idea was ‘kill all Jedi.’”

Skywalker stares at him.

“Including the babies.”

Skywalker keeps staring.

“But you—Vader—did most of the baby-killing, or so I heard. I was busy keeping the better members of the Senate from trying to investigate. Organa was a hard sell.”

“I would not—why would I kill Jedi?”

Oh good, he’s responding. “I don’t know. You joined Sidious for power, or something. Amidala was pregnant when she died, that was all over the news. I wasn’t listening to gossip, because my brain was all work, all the time, because of the mind control, but I guess it could have been yours.”

Fox doesn’t know what Skywalker and Amidala’s relationship is. Could be a one-night stand, for all Fox knows, but he thinks they’re close friends, at least.

“She’s pregnant?” Skywalker asks. He sounds a little broken. Plaintive? Is that the word?

“No,” Fox says. “She’d have gotten pregnant… a few months from now? I don’t know exactly how far along she was, or how natborns progress. She looked pretty big, though.”

Skywalker stares at him some more. Man, the guy’s got eyes like a holostar, or one of those cherubs on the Corellian churches. Fox bets he’d look nice crying.

“All of this hit the fan about a year from now,” Fox tells him. “We have time, but not much. Also, Sidious has a million backup plans, so we need to act fast, and be unpredictable.”

“So you had to kidnap me?” Skywalker demands.

“Of course,” Fox says. “He’d be suspicious if I just started palling around with you, or whatever it is the shinies call it.”

“You are maybe two years older than them,” Skywalker points out.

“More like twelve,” Fox corrects. “But that’s not the point. I also had to get you somewhere I could make sure he wouldn’t be able to spy on us, and where you couldn’t storm out because you were mad that I was telling you you’re destined to be a baby-killer or that your precious Chancellor is a Sith.”

Fox is pretty sure the only reason Skywalker isn’t doing that already is because he’s convinced Fox lost his mind and just needs to come down from the drugs or whatever. Fox can understand; he’d be tossing anyone saying this banthakark into a drunk tank or to the medics, himself. He certainly hadn’t taken that ARC seriously.

“Why me?” Skywalker asks.

Fox shrugs. “It had to be you, obviously. All else aside, getting you in my corner instead of another Jedi gives me an edge, because you are the one Jedi that Palpatine might hesitate to kill. He’s put a lot of time into making Vader happen, even already, and he wants to get you to be his Sith apprentice. That means he wants you alive, and on side, and maybe he'll try to talk you into joining him before going for the kill.”

“I won’t join a Sith.”

“You will,” Fox says, simple as syrup, “given the right pressures, you will. Our goal here is to make it so those pressures don’t come to pass, and that means cutting the head off the snake and sweeping the legs out from under the devil.”

Fox has, perhaps, read a few too many Corellian novels recently. He likes the ones about this ‘hell’ place. Seems cozy.

“If I let you go, will you hear me out?” Fox asks. He’s not planning on actually letting Skywalker go, but he can let the man stand. The cuffs stay on. “I’m going to get this chip removed now, while you’re here, so I have at least some evidence for part of the story. That way you can check it yourself for whatever code dictates the orders.”

“The chip. In your head.”

“I wouldn’t have brain surgery on a whim,” Fox confirms, “so I think it makes for a good proof that I’m not just staging this somehow.”

Skywalker actually gapes this time.

Fox waits.

“Fine,” Skywalker finally says. “I’ll stick around long enough for the brain surgery, and to decode the chip, and then we can… reassess or what have you.”

“Great.”

“Can I at least call Obi-Wan to tell him I won’t be making it to dinner?”

Fox waves a hand. “No, no, I already took care of that.”

The look he gets is almost insulting. It’s almost like Skywalker forgot that Fox is a highly trained military police officer with top-level security codes and the legal right to invade peoples’ privacy.

(Continue on AO3)

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for Kris behind the cut; I was offered dealer's choice and picked “mirror mirror”. relevant tags: clonecest, gender play, roleplay, daddy kink (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“Fuck, you’re so into this,” he breathes raggedly as he plasters himself down against the other’s back, a little too come-stupid to hold back the break in character, and Match– 

Match– 

Match bites his lip, and keeps his hips tilted up just perfectly for the deepest possible place Kon can get inside him; keeps himself up on the balls of his feet. Kon pictures him in heels. It is very fucking distracting, as a picture, and not in a helpful way. 

“Yeah,” Match mumbles, barely audible, and Kon just about burns alive even before he gets to, “You're my favorite, Daddy.” 

Kon really, really regrets the fact he just came. Even half-Kryptonian stamina isn’t gonna let him keep fucking the bastard right now. 

Though if they’re talking superpowers in sex, well–his TTK really never has let him down. 

Kon wraps his TTK around his dick–concentrates it around his dick, more like–and keeps it a hard and thick pressure inside Match, even as his actual cock tries to soften underneath it. Match makes another hitched little noise, and Kon nuzzles the back of his neck a little clumsily, trying to just–focus. Just get himself back into being Match’s “daddy”, at least for now. 

Or being his special little princess’s daddy. Just, like, however his dick wants to phrase that right now. 

“Please,” Match says, his voice flickering a little hesitant, and Kon drops a soft little kiss behind his ear and slides his hands up his sides; keeps his TTK-wrapped dick deep inside him, even if fucking him with it would probably fucking hurt at this point. It’d be worth it, definitely. 

“You don’t have to ask, sweetheart,” he manages, and mostly gets himself under control. “Already told you I'd let you come on my cock as many times as you wanted, didn't I? Let you keep him warm all night? Let you be the pretty little whore you love being as long as you wanna.” 

Match whimpers. Kon strokes his hands heavier back down his sides and presses down tighter against his back and gets him squirming under them; under him. His dick’s too oversensitive for the way Match clutches up around it, even with his TTK in the way, but he doesn't give a fuck. 

He wonders, suddenly, if that’s part of why Match keeps fucking leaving him so fucking quick. If he can’t–what, goddamn justify sticking around if he’s not getting off for it. 

They’ve got the same powers, after all. The same stamina. And Kon really doesn’t usually need or want to go as many rounds as they always seem to end up going. Really does wish Match would just, like–fucking stay and talk to him a little more often. Or just literally fucking ever, even. 

He doesn’t really know how he feels about the fact he’s regularly fucking somebody who won’t even sit down and eat a pizza or watch shitty reality TV or even sleep with him, sometimes. 

But if maybe Match feels like he has to leave, when he doesn’t have the “right” excuse to stick around anymore . . . 

Kon digs his fingers into Match’s ribs. Match squirms again–clutches up tighter around his dick again–and Kon licks the back of his teeth. 

He rolls his hips again, and Match whimpers again. A quiver goes up his thighs, and Kon presses him down against the top of the dresser and slides his hands down to grip his ass and knead in tight. 

“Daddy,” Match whines half-senselessly, and Kon loops an arm tight around his waist and nuzzles roughly into the crook of his neck and up his throat. Match clutches up even fucking tighter and Kon manages to make what should probably be a groan of overstimulated pain into a dirty grunt and rock his cock in to the root. Match whimpers louder, his ass pressing back pleadingly and fingers gouging the dresser again. 

Kon’s probably just gonna need to, like, fucking destroy the furniture after this, or else people might figure out exactly what kind of superpowers tore up this room and shit might get awkward, Kryptonian-ly speaking. Like, definitely he doesn’t want some rando tabloid reporter or online influencer asking Clark, “hey Superman, someone with your exact build and set of superpowers who kept their face carefully concealed from all the security cameras broke this paid-in-cash motel room somewhere in the Pacific Northwest with a sex marathon with an unknown partner; care to comment?” 

Yeah, definitely not. 

[holylulusworld]

Cabin at the lake (6)

Summary: You have a much-needed vacation. There’s only one problem…

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Assistant!Reader

Warnings: SB being an ass, tension, arguments, vacation hijacking, sexual themes (talk about), misogynism, groping, slow burn, stoned reader, injured reader

A/N: Another short drabble with these two.

Cabin at the lake (5)

Cabin at the lake masterlist

“I asked you why her hand still hurts,” Soldier Boy growls into the phone. “No, what?” He huffs. “You gave her painkillers to make her compliant.” He curls his upper lip in disgust. “Do you honestly believe I need to drug a woman to get my dick wet? Women throw themselves at me all the time.”

He huffs into the phone as the doctor tells him he didn’t heal your hand, so you’d be helpless and in need of support. Vought believes playing on the dark side to give Soldier Boy what he desires is justified if he keeps on fighting for them.

“You little piece of shit. I don’t want her in pain,” Soldier Boy snarls before flinging the phone against a tree. “What the fuck did they think? That I need a smeary doctor to drug my assistant?”

“So…no healed hand,” you whine because your hand hurts so bad, and you took another dose of the good stuff. “I think it’s getting worse. My hand feels like it’s pulsing.” You slur while stumbling toward Soldier Boy. You rub your nose with your good hand and sigh. “Why doesn’t it work?”

“How about I bring you to a real doctor this time?” He’s unusually silent when you stand next to him, swaying from one side to the other. “You don’t look good.”

“Finally, a good idea,” you grin at him. “Did you find out how to use your brain after years of trying? I hope you don’t get headaches.”

“You’re no fun when high,” he grunts. “Let me get the car keys and we can look for a hospital or doctor nearby. I don’t trust Vought to fix your hand. Next time, they mess you up even more.”

You giggle and snort. Soldier Boy seems to lose his patience, and you can’t wait for him to fuck off. Even in your drug-induced haze you know he’s not the nice guy he pretends to be.

“Come on,” he walks back outside the cabin to grab your arm. Soldier Boy guides you toward his car while muttering under his breath. “I didn’t even get a taste of her cunt and she’s already giving me a run for my money. I hope you’re worth my time.”

“I didn’t ask you to come here and ruin my vacation,” you slur and grin at him. “That’s what happens if you fuck with me. I’ll fuck you over thrice.” You snicker when he calls you a cunt. “You’re the cunt, bastard. Hijacking my vacation.”

“Well, at least I got a glimpse of your ass and to feel you up,” he smirks when you give him the stinky eye. “What? It’s only fair I got to touch you after taking care of you, sweetness.”

“Perverted pervert,” you mutter under your breath. Soldier Boy dragged you toward his car, and you won’t let him get away with it so easily. “I hate your stupid face, and your stupid shield, and that stupid suit.”

He laughs your words off. Soldier Boy is not the kind of man giving up without a fight. If you want to get rid of him, you must try harder.

“Why didn’t you bring your girlfriend here earlier?” The doctor shakes his head. “Sir, she must’ve been in so much pain.”

“Vought’s doctor took care of her. They said her hand will heal soon,” Soldier Boy grunts. He’s not used to people doubting his word. “I believed them.”

He paces the room while the doctor puts a new cast around your broken hand. Soldier Boy crosses his arms over his chest, shaking his head now and then.

“Well, the cast they put around her hand didn’t do any good for her,” the doctor huffs. “I fixed their mistake now. She needs a rest, no stress, and less of the painkillers they prescribed.”

“I’ll take good care of her from now on,” Soldier Boy smirks darkly when you glare at him. “Right, sweetness. You want me to take care of you…”

Part 7

Tags in reblog.