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[simpingforheros]

Jason’s Wife?!

Pairing: Jason Todd X Female! Reader

Summary: Meet Mrs. Todd?! Jason got eloped and he doesn’t intend on sharing his blushing bride just yet.

Warnings: SMUT, Fluff, Established Relationship, Eloping, Jason being an ass to his family (for good reason), Jason calling Reader Ma (can’t remember who wrote about that, please tag them because I love this headcanon), P in V, unprotected sex (don’t advertise for the unsafe sex, put some breading on yalls chicken before dumping it in oil) , Oral (m receiving), Body Worship, Phone/Facetime during the deed, Exhibition Kink, Mating Press, Slight Breeding Kink, Degradation, Praise, crying kink??,TOXIC-ish And POSSESSIVE! Jason Todd is back, Traumatizing Dick again.

Author’s Note: Thank you guys so much for the praise I got on my last Jason Todd Fanfic! I didn’t know you guys would like my first smut that much so I made a part 2. Enjoy your next fix you horny bastards (jk I love you guys )

AN: This is Part 2 to Jason’s Girl??, so go read that for some context. Also a quick shout out to the mutual who started my spiraling decent into his madness, @jjenthusee , who was the main inspiration because of their amazing artwork! Also I’m sorry this was late and I don’t update as often, I’m in my second semester in a health major and I’m stumped man. I’ll update when I can I promise.

A/N: Part 3>>> Jason Broke What??

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Jason Todd is a lot of things. He’s known for bad things and good things. It depends on who you ask.

A menace, a murderer, a zombie, an asshole, etc.

A son, a brother, a hero….

But there’s two things everyone can agree on.

1). He’s a good boyfriend.

For the last 6 months since Jason finally revealed his secret girlfriend of two years, the Bat Family learned just how much of a better person Jason was when (Y/N) was around.

His voice was softer and kinder to others. His temperament was more patient and his fists stayed loose. Her presence acting like a balm to sooth his soul as soon as he feels her comforting hand on his skin.

There were obvious moments of trouble, such as little squabbles or one gets snappy at the other, but normally they sort it out. Even if Bruce and the rest of the family didn’t know her for long, they knew that she had the backbone to handle Jason and give him what he needed without babying him.

Jason even shows his love for her in goofy ways, such as wearing matching shirts or color coordinated outfits. The two are now known for their Friday date nights and lazy Saturdays where they don’t wanna be disturbed. Their late night rides or their silent evenings where either a book or controller is in hand.

Red Hood is known for lingering around certain streets where she would be at when she had to work late, and he always had a bottle of water or granola bar he ‘mysteriously appeared’ out of thin air.

Jason was known for being proud of building the healthiest relationship he’s ever had with someone who didn’t fall in love with him because he was Bruce Wayne’s son, or Batman’s protege. She fell in love with Jason Peter Todd and all he was.

Which leads to the one thing that the family also knew him for.

2) Jason Todd would not tell anyone when he dropped down on one knee and asked (Y/N) to be his wife.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The proposal was a spontaneous to say the least.

Their usual Saturday routine of laying on the couch, too exhausted from the week to move. Jason laid on the opposite side as his beloved, her feet dangling off to the side of his hips as his own rested behind her shoulders. They both had a book in as they enjoyed their silence. The only noise coming from the soft patter of Frank coming over to lay on his adopted father.

The tabby cat that Jason claimed to not like despite the male cat clinging to him like glue. The cat jumped onto his stomach with a deep groan emitting from him. A soft giggle filled the room as she sets her book down and pulls the feline to her.

“I still don’t understand why my cat likes you more than me.” She comments as she strokes the tabby’s fur.

Jason scoffs as he carefully rolls off the couch and onto his feet. “Probably to spite me.”

He heads to the kitchen to grab them a drink as he hears one comment that seemed to change everything in one second.

“What’s gonna happen when we have a kid? Would you think they would prefer you over me or would we have another Frank?…”

The question was a hypothetical one, a normal one couples would ask just to make sound in the air. Jason would have probably answered light heartedly with a kiss or a smart ass comment to make her laugh, but it felt different. He felt different.

There wasn’t a ‘if’ in the question like it would or wouldn’t happen, but a definite of ‘when’ it would happen. Jason knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Hell, he managed to not fuck up a relationship he kept hidden for 2 years. He knew he wanted to marry her the moment he decided to open up and let her into his life by moving her in and introducing her to his family.

So, even if it was on an impulse, Jason returns back into the living room and as he placed their drinks on the coffee table as he kneels on the floor beside the couch. (Y/N) sits up as she smiles at him, unaware of the decision he made.

“Penny for your thoughts, Todd?” She asked playfully as she offers him an imaginary penny in between her pinched fingers.

Jason smiles as he takes her out stretched hand before kissing the back of it.

“Marry me.”

The seriousness in his eyes made her playful attitude dissolve to disbelief.

“What?…”

“I wanna marry you, (Y/N)…You are the everything I could ever want and don’t deserve. But I can’t imagine building a life like the one we have with anyone else. You are one of the few lights this dark world has and I wanna love and protect you for the rest of our lives.” Jason explains as he nervously massages her hand as his eyes shined with deep love and affection. “Even if I don’t have a ring yet and we are in our pajamas, will you accept me and let me become yours forever?”

Tears streamed down her face as she nods frantically. Her arms quickly wrapping around Jason’s neck and pulling him into a kiss.

Jason melts into her and begins to move to be on top of her on the couch until a sharp hiss makes him stop.

“Quiet, Frank…” Jason grumbles at the cat.

“Daddy is trying get some sugar from Mama~”

+++++++++++++++++

A week later, Alfred appeared extra peppy for the day. His duties were quickly done before the family was awake and his fidgeting gotten everyone concerned. Alfred was the normally level-headed gentle hand of the house, so seeing him so giddy made everyone nervous.

It wasn’t until he surprisingly left in one of his better suits and a gift bag that the rest of the Wayne Family just decided that he may be going to an event or some kind.

“Where do you think he’s going?” Tim asks his younger brother from behind a book.

Damian shrugs as he says, “How should I know?”

The answer wouldn’t come until later that evening. Alfred came back with both the brightest smile and red swollen eyes. In his hands were a single pale pink rose and a camera as he scurries to the study.

Tim, Dick, and Damian, who were scattered around the living room, followed out of curiosity. What’s gotten Alfred this way? An old flame? The thought of Alfred getting down and dirty made the boys shudder before they continue to the study and ultimately down to the Batcave.

“Yo, Alfred.” Dick calls out as he exits the elevator.

Alfred stood by the large chair over looking the Batcomputer as Bruce’s hulking form peaked over the leather. The clicking of the mouse playing in the background as Alfred turns his head to address Dick.

“Yes, Master Richard?” He says. In his hand was the camera with cables connecting it to the computer.

“Where have you been? You kinda left in a hurry…”

Tim jumps in as he says, “I mean, we aren’t trying to be rude, but you did seem kinda jumpy this morning.”

Damian’s words cut through the other two like ice as his eyes look at the monitor.

“Did Todd and his woman get married?”

Dick and Tim look back at Damian before their shocked expressions look up to the monitor. Their eyes widen in disbelief at the image before them.

Standing in a suit was a an absolutely beeming smile was Jason Todd with his hands interlocked with (Y/N), who was wearing a white dress. The dress didn’t look like the traditional floor length gown. Instead it was a backless chic dress with a bow on the back. Her hair was down and decorated with pearl ornaments as a matching ribbon choker was around her neck with a single aged pearl on it.

In their interlocked finders, a familiar set of rings shined . Martha Wayne’s sparkling diamond engagement ring and her wedding band was on (Y/N)’s finger as a matching wedding band was on Jason’s finger.

The surroundings didn’t look like a typical wedding venue with flowers and ribbons with a crowd of people. It was a courthouse, Gotham City Courthouse. On (Y/N)’s side stood Alfred holding a pale pink bouquet that was most likely the bride’s. What surprised them the most was a smiling Bruce on Jason’s side, a look of pride on his face that he rarely shown.

The boys break out of their shell as Dick complains.

“This can’t be real… Jason and (Y/N) got married without telling any of us….AND YOU LET JASON HAVE MARTHA’S RING!!” Dick snaps as his irritation grew. “You said I was gonna have it.”

Bruce sighs as he says, “I said that before you cheated on both of your girlfriends with each other.”

Alfred chuckles as he says, “And Master Jason specifically stated that he only wanted me and Master Bruce there.”

Tim frowns as he asks, “Why weren’t we invited?”

Alfred gives the boy a sympathetic look before reciting, “Miss (Y/N) and Jason only wanted a small ceremony and off what he said, ‘Damian makes (Y/N) uncomfortable when he calls her Jason’s woman and a distraction. Dick is plain out not invited because of reasons he knows why. And Tim can’t keep his mouth shut to save his life, so he’s not invited.’”

Damian tsks as he says, “I wouldn’t have wanted to go anyways.”

Dick was flustered as the images of the incident Alfred was referring to. He still can’t get her moans out of his head…

Tim pouts and says, “I’m gonna remember this…But why was Bruce invited then?”

Bruce responds with a smirk , “Because I was asked to give away the bride.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

As soon as the newly weds returned their apartment, the lust sprinkled down like hale. Her well manicured hair was now messy as his hands held her head. His mouth devouring her moans as her own lips kept up with his pace.

Her fingers desperately removing his tie as the shrilling ring of Jason’s cell phone fills the air. He ignores it in favor of trailing tongue against his bride’s as she slings off the tie.

“Gonna answer that?” She mumbles as his mouth begins to trail down her jawline. Jason doesn’t answer as his hands scoop up under her thighs to pick her up. Her giggles were music in his ears as he says,

“It’s probably just Tim or Dick. Probably bitching about the wedding…”

Jason carries his wife through the threshold of their apartment hallway as his lips remained on hers. Their vows sealed in teeth and tongues as he expertly guided them into the bedroom.

His phone finally stopped ringing as he places her on the bed. Hands groping and pulling off of clothing as he unwraps her down to her underwear and stockings. His mouth hot against her breast as she pushes his now unbuttoned shirt down his shoulders.

His other hand dipping into her underwear as he flicks her erected nipples like a guitar. Her sweet music filling the room as he’s met with a creamy cunt under her white thong.

“Fuccck, ma..” He moans against her breast. Jason pulls away with a devilish smirk as he runs his finger over her sopping folds, carefully avoiding her hole and clit. “I can’t tell what I like more…your pretty tits or your sloppy cunt…”

(Y/N) feels the wave of shameful arousal fill her stomach as she whines out, “Stop teasing me, baby. It’s our wedding day and you’re acting like a jackass…”

Her body jolts as he pinches her clit. Her hips jerking as she moans at the sensation. Jason had a look of faux sympathy before mumbling against the valley of her breasts.

“Oh, you’re right…” His voice barely audible to her as he begins to rub heart shaped patterns on her clit, making sure to dip down to her gasping pussy as he dips down. “I’m not acting like a good husband, ain’t I? Let me make it up to you, Mrs. Todd.”

His lips attached to her unabused nipple before his middle finger finally dips into her pulsing hole. His groan accentuated by the scraping of his teeth against her sensitive flesh. The feeling of her cunt sucking his one finger in making him light headed as her moans ringed out.

“Jason…stop teasing me…I want you…” She begs as her hips try to meet the thrust of his finger. He growls at her bossiness before yanking his finger out of her pulling her panties down her thighs.

Her eyes glared at him for the loss of stimulation before he quickly pops her pussy lightly. The wet slap of skin making her cringe in embarrassment before Jason begins to leave a trail of open kisses and bites down her body. Making sure to pay special attention to the matching tattoo on her hip before he mumbles to her with a lazy smile.

“Your wish is my command.”

Before he could dig into his meal, the shrill ring of his phone invades the space. He yanks his phone out of his pocket and looks at the screen before declining the call. He tosses the phone onto the bed as he glares at the offending device.

“Stupid Dick..” He groans before a soft hand on his face draws him back to her. Her gentle touch bringing peace to his mind as she pulls him up to press a soft peck to his lips.

His mind goes blank as she gently lures him to stand before she kneels down, trailing kisses down his exposed chest and his scars. Her love poured into his body as her lips traced his autopsy scars. Her eyes shining so pretty as she presses an extra long kiss to his matching tattoo on his Adonis belt.

The silent vow that was made a year and a half into dating on a drunk night out with Roy.

‘I am hers and she is mine’

“Let me be a good wife to you, Mr. Todd.” She whispers against his skin. Her breath like hot fire before her hands snake off his belt and trousers. Her mischievous eyes gleaming in lustful delight as Jason’s lip curls in between his teeth. His eyes almost glowing as she presses her warm lips against his clothed tip. His hand fisting into her hair as he hisses at her.

“Don’t you fucking tease me…”

*RING* *RING*

Jason glares at the phone before he snatches it up. He sees the familiar notification as his own image shown on the phone. FaceTime.

“Answer it.”

“What?” Jason asks in confusion before looking down to her. His surprise was suppressed with a hiss as she pulls his hard cock out of his underwear. Her hand lazyily stroking him as she gives him a look of faux innocence.

“Answer it. It’s rude to ignore family..”

Jason feels a smirk curled onto his face as he realizes what she wanted. His dick hardened to iron as he remembers why he fell for her.

She was just as fucked as he was.

With that, Jason schools his face as he answers the phone with an annoyed expression.

“What?” He says as the image of his brother appears on his phone screen.

Dick glares at Jason before snapping at him. “You got fucking married?! Without inviting any of us?!”

“Didn’t Alfred tell you why we didn’t want you guys there?” Jason asked in as much annoyance as he can muster as he felt the wet pull of lips around his cock.

His hand gripping her hair kept her from getting more than his tip in as he hides his reaction. Her tongue licking his tip like a kitten wanting milk.

“But we are family for fucks sake.”

Jason’s actual annoyance getting the best of him as he hisses,

“I’m sorry, but I recall you trying to fuck my wife.”

“THAT WAS BEFORE I KNEW YOU WERE DATING HER!!”

Jason becomes distracted as (Y/N) starts sucking him off. Her drool and his precum slowly beginning to coat her mouth and hand as it strokes what she can’t fit into her pretty mouth.

His brow furrowed as his pleasure and annoyance started to mix on his face. Jason decides to get some payback on both his wife and brother as he slyly mentions.

“Oh but you had no problem rubbing one out when I sent those videos.”

He pulls her closer to his pelvis to muffle her surprised moan. If he wasn’t on the phone, he would degrade her like a slut with how she acts when she remembers being recorded. Her cheeks hollow as Dick’s jaw drops as Jason mentions the videos.

“I-I..”

“Admit it.” Jason says, his voice grew more taunting. “You probably still jack off to the videos because you’re nothing but a loser who cheats on any good woman he gets because you’re scared of attaching to someone.”

Jason can feel her eagerness grow as she sucks harder, actually pulling him as deep into her throat as she can. He almost wanted to both laugh at how cute she was as she gagged around him and coo at how proud he was of her. Her jaw was gonna be hurting like a bitch either way.

Dick’s baffled expression almost made it better as his eyes shined with shame over what Jason knew to be true.

“That’s why Bruce gave me Martha’s ring.” Jason says as he forces (Y/N) to take him all the way down her throat. Her nose pressing into his light patch of black hair as Jason says. “fuck…I can fuck (Y/N) like I fucking hate her guts and she would take it because she knows I would rather swallow glass than fuck anyone else like I do her. To even love anyone halfway as I do her would be a sin…”

The fluttering feeling of her throat as her nails digged into his thigh affirming his conviction.

“I’m not afraid to get attached… As long as she lives, I’ll never let her go…”

He hangs up before Dick can respond as he yanks her back by her hair. Her coughing and gasping for air as she whine painfully at both the lost of his cock in her mouth and the painful grip on her scalp.

Jason releases her hair before kneeling beside her on the floor. His expression tender as he cups her face. Her light makeup look from the wedding was now smudged off with her mascara flowing down her face with her tears. Her lips puffy and wet from his assault on her mouth. Her body littered in forming bruises from his teeth. Her cunt sloppy and leaking a clear sheen down her thighs. Her cheek leaning into his palm as her eyes shined at him with nothing but love and desire.

“Fuck…” He groans before crawling inbetween her legs as he pushes her to lay down on the floor. His mouth back on hers as his throbbing erection lightly dragged against her fluttering pussy. The head catching her clit despite the watery resistance as she whimpers into his mouth.

“You look so pretty like this…” Jason says before sticking his tongue down her throats. Their tongues tangling for a moment before his hands cup her face and pull her away. “You feel it, don’t you?”

She whines as his hips rolled against hers. Her cunt angry as it fluttered around nothing. His nearly red dick twitching as it desires salvation in her temple as Jason breathlessly whimpers.

“Feel how bad I need you baby? Fuck I can’t stand it. I wanna fuck you every day so I can see you look like this.” He says as he wraps his hand his member. He slaps her pussy with it twice before dragging his head over her entrance, the heavy appendage dipping in slightly as he says.

“I wanna ruin you so good. You’re such a good pretty girl that I want to ruin and make as fucked up as me…”

Her gasps fill the room as he starts to bully his tip into her. Even though they were both well experienced with each other, every time she takes him feels like the first time with that delicious stretch.

His unusually talkative mood doesn’t let up as he pushes his hips into her, forcing her to take him.

“You’re so gorgeous…” He whispers as he pulls her legs over his shoulders as he grasps her hips, forcing them up as he starts to fill her to the hilt. “God, this pussy is unbelievable…gonna fill her up everyday and eat her out every night…”

His thrusts start off slow but hard as her hands desperately held onto what bit of Jason she could as he fucked her like a doll. Her whimpers and moans filling the air as the sticky sound of his balls smacking her ass.

His hot breath tickles her ears as his hips develop the torturous pattern of pistoling into her like a hard buck before rolling in a deep and filling thrust. Her eyes filling with tears and brain fog as he filled her lust sick brain with praise.

“Such a good little wife…a sweet little thing with a nice soft body for me…” He groans as his pace becomes brutal. His precision and memory impeccably beats anything he learned as a vigilante as he assaults her G-spot. Her eyes rolling back as lighting strikes her the brain as she begins to cry.

“Fuck. Fuck. fuck…” she sobs incoherently as Jason licks the tears off her face.

“You look so hot when your cry…” Jason moans as his thrusts start to become more sloppy. His reaches between them as he rubs tight circles on her clit as he thrusts harder into her soft cunt.

“Will you cry some more please?” He’s asked in a cruel tone. His eyes blown out with desire as he lets his full weight pin her down under him. His added weight making her pinned as she cries. Her stomach tightening at the overwhelming presence of him and his cock destroying her insides.

“I’m gonna fuck a baby into you, Ma…” He says as his own whimpers fall through. “Gonna watch you get swollen and carry a little perfect baby and know that you’re mine…that no one can love you like me… ain’t that right?”

Her impending orgasm blocking off all rational thoughts as her mouth hangs open. His hand pulls from her clit to her frustration and grabs a hold of her jaw. Forcing her to look at him as he says harshly.

“Who do you belong to ,Pretty Girl?”

Her eyes widen as she says, “You…I belong to you baby…”

Jason smirks as he starts thrusting faster. Her shrieks just music in his ears as she falls off the edge. Her vision clouded as white flashes in her vision. Her body nearly convulsing as her cunt squeezes Jason into his own orgasm. His warm seed flooding her quivering womb as he presses a kiss into her neck.

The pair remained still for a moment as they gasped for air. The natural chill of the room causing them to tremble at the stimulation. Her small hand moving first as she grabs his hand, her fingers playing with the gold band on his finger as she whispers.

“My husband…” A soft satisfied smile on her lips as Jason grins widely into her neck as he mumbles.

“All yours, Mrs. Todd.”

**********************

AN: Yea I didn’t know how to end this. 😭 I hope you guys like it because I’m not too sure if the smut is good or not. Let me know what you think as I’m trying to clear out the drafts. Again, Thank you @jjenthusee for inspiring these two fanfics and for being a great mutual.

*******************

@simpingforheros fanfic. I DO NOT CONDONE THE THEFT, COPYING, REPOSTING, AND PLAGIARISM OF MY WORK ON THIS SITE OR OTHER SITES WITHOUT CREDIT OR PERMISSION.

[bunny-jpeg]

a pair of aces

franco colapinto

tags: smut/pwp, williams driver!reader, (somewhat) rivals, clothes sharing, banter & teasing, canadian!reader, secret relationship, body worship, semi- public sex, getting caught, multiple sex scenes, fingering, tim hortons

a/n: the reader is canadian because i said so... also because my brain is tired and it was easier to maker tim hortons jokes.... congrats reader, you are now canadian!

williams was stronger thanks to the hard work of you and franco. you actually made the likes of ferrari and mclaren nervous. even though you and franco were rivals in a sense, it was s unremarkable that the media turned their attention elsewhere. you were both charming, kind in a way that made people drawn to you. even other drivers, only for you to dominate on the track.

but at the end of it all, you pushed franco and franco pushed you. so it wasn't a surprise that you two were something much more than teammates.

franco would lounging on your hotel bed while you were messing with the attire you had on. it was like your driving suit, but you knew it wouldn't pass any standards or testing. it was a costume of a driver's suit, also it was ugly as all hell.

it was a costume for an advertisement, you go roped into doing it for tim hortons during the canadian grand prix weekend. lance laughed when you told his and was thankful that he didn't have to do another one. so much for canadian solidarity!

franco was behind you, amused as his eyes raked your behind. you usual suit was baggy enough to be comfortable and safe. but in this mockery of one, he got a good look at your round behind. you looked good even in bold red and stark white with a flurry of maple leaves printed onto the fabric. he was happily munching on tim bits you had received when some poor assistant gave you the outfit.

"management will have your head is you keep eating those." you looked over to him, "and can you at least save me a chocolate one?"

franco pulled one from the box and looked at you. he smiled, "last one in the box... i wonder who should have it." he pretended to ponder for a moment before he ate it in one bite. you gave him a ,look and he winked then responded, "that's for last weekend."

you turned around to face him fully and he smiled at you. you rolled your eyes and went over to him. you reached for and touched his face.

"you are a pain in my side, colapinto." then leaned in to kiss him on the lips. he melted a little at your touch. he tasted sweet from the snack.

"only for you." he then pulled you onto the bed and he wrapped his arms around you. the near empty box of tim bits fell onto the floor and your teammate all over you.

you moaned into the kiss and threw your arms around his shoulders. chest to chest as the two of you made out deeply.

"don't cum in your pants, franco. they need to photograph me soon."

he undid the zipper and smiled against your cheek, "i'll get mine later, but for now, you'll get to finish first." and then dipped his hand into the suit towards your panties. he got his fingers under the waistband and sunk the digits into your achy cunt. you groaned and arched your back a little.

"fuck, franco." you hissed, you maintained eye contact with him as he fingered you. you squirmed a little and franco pressed more weight onto you. he kept you comfortable against the mattress.

"anything for my teammate." he trailed kissed down your neck and you could feel your pulse pick up. and he could feel it under his lips. if only he could leave a pretty bruise.

he continued to finger you. his fingers felt amazing stuffed inside your cunt. you felt heightened pleasure as he continue to kiss your neck. his breath hot across your skin, it made you run extremely warm.

the pleasure ran hot through you as he played with your sex. it felt dirty to be so intimate in an outfit made for promotional material. you knew you'd never be able to look at it the same again.

he was good with his fingers and it made everything feel intense by a ten-fold. he was skilled in that way, the ways that made you squirm. it came up your body, the kind of want that made your toes curl as you kept working you. he said lowly, "you drive me crazy, even in an awful outfit like this. i want you."

"after." you panted, "qualifiers aren't until saturday, so we have a lot of time after this. just gotta do the stupid ad first." you shifted under him.

you wished you could show franco you city a lot more than you'll be able to do. all the nooks and crannies that you spent time in growing up. but you could barely see your childhood friends before you were out of town and headed to austria.

he left small licked across your neck in place of the bites he wanted to leave. it was all hot and curled in your gut. you laid on last heavy kiss before you tensed up around his fingers. you came with a heavy moaned that was muffled by the kiss. he let out a small moan and slowed his pace to a stop. he took his fingers out and looked at you with his heat spread across his cheeks. he then licked your wetness off his fingers. you swallowed and felt the heat in your ears.

he pressed his forehead against yours soon after and you smiled at him. he draped an arm around your waist and the two of you kissed deeply before you had to leave for the photoshoot.

-

franco lingered around the set because he had 'nothing better to do', he didn't know montreal intimately. the only person you knew from the area was you and a few of the staff for he team. and he didn't mind support his teammate. after all it was your weekend to shine, and franco didn't mind, in fact he wanted you to shine. you were loved in canada, their future world champion. so of course he didn't mind standing to the side while you looked proud in front of a tim hortons location in the city. you were smiling as if you weren't complaining on the car ride over.

it's not even a canadian company anymore!

franco gave you a thumbs up and then a hi-five when you were close enough. the shoot was wrapped up, you did a good job. and while it was fun, you knew you wanted out of the outfit asap.

quickly you went to the trailer with franco trailing close behind. when the door closed to the place. it turned a few heads, and probably sparked for rumors. but, you wanted out of the shit spandex and into franco's lap.

when you were fully inside with the door closed, he wrapped his arms around you for a moment. he pulled you further against him and kissed you deeply. he then got a hold of the zipper to the outfit and pulled it down. he got it off of your shoulders and you melted, your moans got a tad louder.

"you looked good in this. never could race in it, but you can could make red and white work for you." he kissed the side of your neck which made you shudder..

"we have to be quiet." you groaned as you grabbed your breasts as he rubbed his clothed cock up against your backside. which made your heart leap.

"fuck." he groaned against your skin as you managed to kick your sneakers off. and soon you both ended up on the couch with the jumpsuit on the floor.

you grasped him by the front of the williams branded shirt. you got it off of him and he got the tank top off of you that you wore under the costume. eventually you were stripped nude and you did the same for franco. both of you were naked on the couch and the kisses got hotter. you could feel the simmering heat. sometime franco drove you crazy, both on and off the track.

you could race toe-to-toe then end up in bed together. the heated kissed between you two left your core feeling warm. your body heated up and was needy for pleasure. especially after a hard day.

you had enough time to fuck your rival, teammate and lover. franco colapinto was many things to you.

you got onto his lap and spread your hands across his chest. with a little help, you got his cock out his jeans and then sank yourself onto his length. he hissed between grit teeth and then grasped your hips.

"you look even better nothing on and that costume on the floor. i love seeing every inch of you." his voice was smooth. we was so charming that it made you squirm more often than you'd like to admit. you got the most of his charm due to the forced proximity and the nature of your relationship.

you felt the heavy leap in your stomach as he moved against you. he held onto your hips and you really worked against him. he kept in time with you.

he swallowed back the intense emotion through his body. he didn't want to be too loud. he didn't want to draw attention to the trailer. you two continued to move against one another. you grasped softly against him and felt the waves.

"fuck, franco. who made you so fucking hot? it's not fair. you make everyone else look so ugly in comparison." you said in a low tone that made him shudder with want.

"every way i can have you. i'll take you." he dragged blunt nails down your back which made you tense up. you shifted a little and franco also held onto him tighter.

"don't flatter me, franco." you giggled, "i'm a pain in your side. but you love me." you kissed his lips once more as you two moved against one another. the shudder of want between you two as the couch shifted a little under your movements.

he licked his lips and laughed a little. he held onto you tighter as you rocked against him. your thrusts were heavy and he adored it. he did think a lot about you.

most of the time he was thinking about non-sexual situations. if you were doing, did you eat and if you were taking breaks. he continued to move against you, he groaned through his clenched teeth. he tensed up at the sensation of your cunt around his thick cock. and he felt like a dream.

"i'd let you run me off the track anyway. but not without a fight." he trailed his tongue across your sweet, warm skin. you knew that he'd let you. he would allow you to win, he was soft with you that way. but he wouldn't let you gain victory without a fight! you were still rivals.

he'd give you the world without a second thought. except the wdc. you kissed him deeply on the lips, you combed your fingers through his hair and moaned against his lips. he wrapped his arms around your waist as he moved faster against you.

he got the perfect pace to fuck you with. and it made you hold onto him tightly onto him. he was your everything, you two fit so well together. you knew if the press knew about your secret relationship, you two would be a total power couple. both on and off the track.

you held his face and kissed him on those soft lips, it made you excited. you moaned against him, you both struggled to keep your voices down. your pulse quickened and small praises came from your lips as the pace quickened.

franco felt a heat in his body come to surface. the same heat raced through your system as well. you kissed the top of his head before you really worked yourself onto his length.

"i love you." you gasped, "lucky me. to have you all to myself. you make me my best." you said softly, you went in for another heated kiss, your hip bounced against him. as the raging feeling of climax went through your body.

the clench of your cunt around his length only made him match your pace further. he worked hard to fuck with in the shitty trailer, on the couch. your clothes everywhere.

"i need you." you panted as the climax drew through you. you tensed around him. the pleasure hit you perfectly, you arched your back and then were chest to chest with franco.

you made out once more as he moved, roughly fucked you as he tried to achieve his own climax. he groaned through a tense jaw as he quickly came. he continued to fuck you through orgasms and it wasn't until he finished in you that he slowed down to a stop.

there was little time for an after glow, you two had to be out of the trailer soon. you both went to grab your clothes. you had a change of clothes in your bag for after the photo shoot. you grabbed the first shirt you could find. you knew it was branded with the williams logo.

what you didn't realize was that you had franco's shirt on, and franco had you shirt on. you were wearing franco's last name and he was wearing yours.

you learned something important that day as you headed back to the car. secret relationships couldn't stay a secret forever, especially when you were both public figures.

it didn't help your case that you were kissing somewhere so public. there were multiple photos of you two kissing outside the trailer before you headed to the car.

you learned that secrets came out eventually. and now you were on the front page of the news for reasons other than your victory <3

[nightingale-prompts]

Introducing Kitten- Batboy AU-DCXDP

First | Previous | Next

Every great hero needs a sidekick but every amazing cat burglar should have a kitten.

Batman was ready for another chase with Catwoman. A Gotham bigwig was hosting a gallery opening with the Amazonian pink diamond as the centerpiece.

Just as expected Catwoman couldn't resist.

"Surrender the jewel Catwoman." Batman ordered as the cat burglar held the pink crystal up in the lowlight.

"But its so pretty~ I thought it would be the perfect gift for my little kitten." She purred.

"I don't think your cats would care. They would probably prefer a can of tuna to a priceless gem." Batman responded preparing to lounge for the diamond.

"Why don't you ask her?"

A shadow jumped out of the darkness grabbed the diamond and landed on the other side of the bat.

"Oh you shouldn't have~ I love it!~" The cheery voice of the shadow said.

Batman turned to see a young girl with twitching cat ears and a long tail waving behind her. She was dressed in a black leotard with a pair of black cargo pants and a cropped leather jacket. Around her neck a jewled collar rested with a little dog tag attached with a bell. Her green eyes glowed with mischief.

"Anything for you." Catwoman smiled.

Just like that Batman's attention was split as Kitten(?) bolted. The girl was fast but stepped carefully not to trigger the sensors. When he looked back Catwoman was gone and Kitten skittered to a stop only for-

*BRRRRIINNNGGG!*

The alarm went off.

He had stepped on a sensor.

"Good game old man! Let's play again sometime!" The girl said before disappearing around a corner.

*1 week ago*

Selina had actually gotten a bit of baby fever after little Nightwing had taken a little bat under his wing. The bat sidekick had been plastered all across the city from Bloodhaven to Gotham, even Metropolis had a few of the advertisements. Batburger even has a batboy meal now. All the candids on Instagram of Batboy's antics were absolutely adorable. Selina made the picture of Batboy shielding a bunch of stay cats under his wings in the rain her screensaver. Bless everyone working together to get as many pictures as possible.

Let's not even mention the time she saw the newest little Robin being carried from across the city by Batboy as they glided.

She would be fine of course after she found an adorable black kitten. She cleaned her up and put her in the warming box for the night. She planned to quarantine her from the other cats in her room. What Selina didn't expect was for the kitten to turn into a girl.

*Present*

Danny felt it again. There was something here. It felt foreign but familiar.

The energy felt reminiscent of...Nocturne? That's not right. No, it felt like primordial energy. Something isn't right.

Someone was here. Someone like him.

[neighbourscat]

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐑 , father charlie mayhew

MAKING A WOMAN OUTTA YOU.

𓈒  ˙ ꪆৎ   ꣹  ۫  𖨂 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 . .. . priest!charlie m. X non-believer!black!fem!reader || second person ( you, yours, you’re ) + lowercase intended.

+ synopsis. for such are false apostles, deceitful workers, transforming themselves into the apostles of christ: and no marvel, for the devil himself is transformed into an angel of light: therefore it is no great thing if his ministers also be transformed as the ministers of righteousness, whose end shall be according to their works. - 2 corinthians 11:13-15

+ cw. grandma thinks reader is troubled and sexually active :: ‘G’ in ‘God’ is lowercased. use of ‘y/n’, brief mention of pregnancy and abortion, sacrilege / taboo, blasphemy, abuse of authority, feeding that fantasy / giving into obsession / scratching that itch , religious shame / guilt || pússy drunk father charlie, he’s so vocal — dirty talk, overstim, “angel” petname, choking, unprotected sex / charlie rejecting two condoms, multiple creampies, charlie & his standing positions.

+ nali’s notes; charlie mayhew & those blood red cowboy boots. writing gratuitous smut to breathe / did not expect to write this much. wordcount :: 6.2k+

+ to be played: family tree, ethel cain. || alternative: church, chase atlantic + numb, rihanna & eminem.

MAKING A WOMAN OUTTA YOU.

in two swift motions, you refolded the pamphlet and shoved it into the large pocket of your purse — letting the sleek paper crumble and tear. your grandmother norrice sat beside you, scanning through her copy of the same pamphlet and grinning softly. “you new adults are lucky,” the elder had said, removing her thin-wire, rectangular framed reading glasses, “it’s so good for young women to attend these type of things; to keep their hearts and minds pure. if i had such opportunity at your age, i would certainly have my life together.”

your relationship with the church had always been strained, and belief in god, at least the way your grandmother spoke about him, never came naturally to you.

annoyedly, “grandma . .. your life is fine.” norrice gave a small shake of her head and pushed her grandma-glasses back into place. “my life could be better. i would have done more,” she said in a wobbly voice. grandma norrice had fallen pregnant with your father at the young age of sixteen, and since her parents ( your greats ) were opposed to abortion, considering such action immoral, grandma norrice was forced to adult much quicker. “look. look. come look at this,” showing off the pamphlet, pointing a wrinkly finger over a bolded textbook — “start over. rededicate yourself as a virgin,” she read.

grandma norrice lowered the pamphlet into her lap. “isn’t that amazing?” you sighed deeply, swallowing down the hysterical laugh that almost left your throat. grandma norrice could feel the aggravation that seamed off of your body. “hey . ..” again, she pulled those thin-glasses off the bridge of her nose. she placed a cold hand onto your forearm and squeezed lovingly, “i’m only asking you for one. one session, hmm?”

and on: “you go in there and you listen. you show up for yourself, right?” grandma norrice reached and hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your head toward her. “you go in there and confess your defiance. you go in there and pledge yourself to be pure again in the eyes of the lord-“ there had been a misunderstanding between you and your grandmother norrice.

backstory: grandma norrice likes to keep her receipts. all of them. every last one. she had folders upon folders that divided her receipts by year and frequently shopped stores. she considers her an organizer, but she’s a hoarder . .. of paper. anyways, one day, way back when, she had read an advertisement in the town’s newspaper, that pretty much said: ‘good-day people of mississippi! make money off your receipts! one receipt for one penny!‘ the company had been active many years later, sending grandma norrice rolls and rolls of pretty brown pennies, but as the world aged and technology progressed — the company died.

and for some reason, even though she’s been told time and time again that that company had no longer been operating, she still collects and saves — waiting to reach her goal amount and cash in her receipts. she’s nearing a thousand receipts; it was like playing bingo and scratching lottery tickets for her. separating those receipts into their categories gave her joy.

and the short version of why you are here: as she was cleaning out a reusable shopping bag, she had seen a receipt. excited to store it where it belonged, her misty eyes scanned the slip of paper for a date. and though she found the date, she had also seen: CRYSTAL CONDOMS EXTRA VALUE , 4.99. a box of condoms was bought.

no, you weren’t sexually active . .. . but you were planning to be with this guy. and no, he wasn’t just any guy. you’ve been talking to him for a while now and he, surprisingly, has checked off every box in your ‘my type’ list. for the last four months it’s been cute dates and sweet hangouts, and after that makeout session last weekend, you were sure you were ready for it. you wanted to do it with him, badly. so bad that you started carrying two condoms in your purse, like a highschool kid, anticipating the next meet-up.

“-you must desire to re-purity.” you have not had sex yet. “you must desire to be clean.” hearing the low clacks of flat-heels, you turned from your grandmother with a low groan — the quick distraction needed. a woman, looking around your age, had been coming down the hall, giddy and with a greedy look in her blue eyes. her blonde hair, seeming freshly curled, had bounced up and down on her shoulders.

you let your eyes stroll downward; seeing the pamphlet. her copy a nice, pastel green color. a more recent edition. and then came another young woman, she too hurried down the hall with a copy of the pamphlet. “-you need guidance,” your grandmother norrice had still been speaking ( to herself ). “do not let your desires lead you astray.” and as more young women came filing down the hallway, she silenced herself.

“i believe that your time has come for a cleanse,” grandma norrice said, watching as the duos and trios of giggling, beautifully polished young women gathered at the large, double dark-oak doors. she patted your knee twice, telling you to hurry up and along. “i will be right here waiting for you, okay? right here. go on now, hurry in.”

the basement of the church was cold, even in the middle of summer. the pearly fluorescent lights gave the room an almost sterile feel, a stark contrast to the warmth of the sunday service that was held upstairs much earlier. the chairs were arranged in a tight circle, creating an intimacy that felt more like confinement. you made your way down the creaky staircase, stopping at the bottom landing and staring at the misguided women.

the air smelled like old books and faint incense, but none of it brought the comfort your grandmother said that the church would. if you turn back now, you could hide in the bathroom — since whoever was leading this thing wasn’t in yet . .. . but you would have to pass your grandmother to camp out in the bathroom.

you dropped your shoulders with a deep sigh.

you clutched the strap of your purse and eased into the light — careful and observant. you settled down in between two white women who were holding hand-held flip mirrors and fluffing their shiny hair. honey blonde and deep brunette. your gaze shifted then and your curious eyes landed on two other women; spanish women who were re-applying their gloss. the air was heavy, thick with an uncomfortable silence.

one session, your grandmother’s words echoed in your mind: “you need guidance. do not let your desires lead you astray.” maybe if you had had sex, this could be useful. if only she were here to see all of these women in their makeup and neat hairstyles and sitting so proper to show off what they have in the front — and as a slam sounded, the women jumped startled and readied themselves . .. . their heads bowed low in what looked like guilt or shame. fake guilt and fake shame.

“welcome back ladies . .. .” the priest, father charlie mayhew, now stood in the center of the circle, his hands clasped in front of him like he was leading a sermon, but there was an edge to his presence that made your skin prickle. eerie, he was. “i applaud each of you for returning this afternoon. i applaud you for wanting better for yourself, and for trusting me to guide you through this process.” he was a tall man, with a face that was just on the edge of a smile, but never quite reaching for warmth.

his collar seemed to cling too tightly around his neck, and his eyes darted around the room, landing on each young woman, one by one; hungrily, before lingering on you for a beat longer than comfortable — his expression unreadable. but then, one corner of his lips tipped upward. the honey blonde at one side of you noticed and for a second, she considered tackling you. but she took a deep breath in and out. in and out.

“thank you for joining us this afternoon,” he said, his voice deep and smooth, his attention making you shrink slightly in your seat — wanting to disappear. father charlie fashioned a calming, slightly condescending grin on his face.

the other women turned to look at you, some with curiosity, some with attitude, but all with fake sympathy. “why don’t you introduce yourself?” his tone was warm, but something about it felt performative, rehearsed. the tall priest took two big steps back and gestured toward the center of the center.

you remained seated — shaking your head no. “i don’t plan on comin’ back, so . .. .” your fingers twisting in your lap, “i don’t think there’s a need to, y’know . .. . know me. know my name. why i’m here.” you finished with a shy chuckle. no one laughed with you. no one cracked a smile.

a bushy brow of his lifted a bit. he noted how sure of yourself you seemed after that statement. father charlie decided to try again: “please, come. introduce yourself.” all eyes were on you . .. . and you felt like a teenager again about to give a solo-project presentation. “i don’t . .. .” a scoff and another nervous chuckle. “there’s no reason for that. like i said, this is an in and out kind of thing for me.”

father charlie never had to ask twice. young women, such as those around him, moved whenever he needed something done. they moved as quick as possible, they never wanted him to lift a finger. any and every favor was complete without complaint or hesitation. though he never had to ask twice, for you, he’d give it a third go. “this is a safe environment. what is shared here will stay here. right in this circle. our small community.” as father charlie spoke, he stepped along said circle. the women smiled up at him as he passed, their hearts fluttering and their stomachs knotting.

when he landed, standing right before you, he held out his hand. “grab onto me . .. . and come forth.” his voice smooth, almost hypnotic. you felt the weight of the gazes from the other women — some surprised, their faces drawn in confusion and puzzlement. no one had ever hesitated to take father charlie’s hand. you could see the tension in their bodies, the way they sat stiffly, chests and shoulders leaned in, they were practically on the edge of their seats . .. . wondering if you’d keep denying the man or finally give into him.

but, they all swore that they’d rather be you right now; looking up at father charlie as he offered his beautiful hand.

“grab . .. . onto me.” fifth time.

you took a dekko at his hand — thinking.

and when your hand fell onto his, a collective sigh had gone up. father charlie clasped his other hand on top of yours and gave a pat; a pat that said: thank you, gorgeous.

you kept your hand in his as you took to your feet. father charlie’s palm felt nice in yours; surprisingly soft — he walked you to the circle’s center and released your hand, his fingers dragging against yours as he parted. “there is no need to be shy.”

you were annoyed.

“my name’s y/n, ‘nd, well . .. . i’m here ‘cause of my,” you cleared your throat, then trailed off abruptly, “my grandma.” the women stared amongst themselves for a second and then looked up at you again. you raised your chin softly, catching a glimpse of father charlie beyond you. not hovering, but towering perfectly. “it’s silly, really,” you had told the group, folding your arms over your chest protectively, “she does this thing . .. a-this weird thing, where she .. . like, keeps all of her receipts?”

you heard a soft hum come from behind your back. you wanted to look around, to look at father charlie, but you kept yourself from doing so. “it’s a long story . .. well, not exactly, no. it’s actually the shortest story in history, really-“ fast paced babbling. purely from the anxious energy that coursed and spun throughout your body. for some people, their brains lock up and they have trouble thinking of things to say. for you, being jittery filled your mind with thoughts, along with an urge to say them all. right now. as fast as you can. “-when she was much much younger and livin’ in mississippi, she was reading a newspaper . .. .”

and you rambled. and you rambled. and you rambled.

“‘nd she thinks that i’m having sex, which-“ you laughed at the thought, “-which i am not. i’m not.” directed to the women. “seriously, i’m not.” was directed to father charlie. “i’m here for no reason, honestly. i’ve been forced here on an assumption. a silly assumption. i’ve been carryin’ ‘round condoms, but that’s all-“ the embarrassing statement caught you off-guard.

with a hand, father charlie gestured toward your chair — clearly telling you to sit the fuck down. you hurried back. you dropped down and quickly kicked your purse underneath the seat; as if to hide the condoms that were already tucked in a zipper pocket.

“at least you’re having protective sex,” the brunette whispered over, not even facing you. you almost choked on nothing: “no, i’m not,” you answered too quickly. that didn’t sound right. “i-fuck. no, i’m not havin’ sex. but if i was, i would be protected,” you corrected. “that’s what makes this whole thing hilarious. i’m still a virgin.” the brunette looked at you. “then why are you here?” your shoulders slumped, “did . .. . did you not hear me?” you asked, pointing to the circle’s center. the brunette said no, “would you listen to yourself talk about your grandma collecting receipts? we all were falling asleep, sweetie. i was so tuned out, which never happens here.”

you shifted your weight a bit, turning your body toward her.

“wait, so why are you here, seriously?” she tilted her head.

you opened your mouth to speak and heard a finger-snap. “ladies . .. .” father charlie urged. he clasped his hands in front of him and continued, “you are here because of your struggle. each of you struggle. struggle with the desires of the flesh. desires that pull you away from god.“ he lifted a hand toward you, “she travels with condoms. can anyone tell me what that says about her?”

two arms had gone up and you so desperately wanted to leave.

father charlie called on tabitha, her loose waves pulled up into a high ponytail. her eyes sparkled. “it is clear that she is eager to engage in sexual intercourse with a man. it is on her mind and she is desperate for it. but if such dangerous thought continues to linger, she will eventually take action.”

you scoffed, “i am not ‘eager’ or ‘desperate’. i jus’ wan’a-“ father charlie raised a hand, shushing you from going any further. your lips shut, disappointedly. “that is correct, thank you, tabitha.” and she felt her bones rattled.

father charlie’s eyes slid back to you, his voice dropping into something softer, more personal. “these desires . .. these thoughts, like tabitha had stated, they are dangerous. but luckily, they can be controlled. with the right guidance.”

you felt the heat of his attention again, the way his words seemed to be directed specifically at you, though there were ten other women sitting in this circle. you lowered your gaze, trying to find comfort in your lap, but the room seemed to close in around you.

“lust,” he continued, stepping closer to where you sat, “is the most powerful weapon the devil has. it twists the human mind, makes you believe that these urges are natural.” father charlie had left the circle for a moment, their eyes following except yours. he had never left the circle before — he stuck there for every session. his hand rested on the back of your chair, and you froze. “but they are not. not one bit. they are sins. and we are here to free you from that temptation.”

“desires,” he said then, his voice dropping into a low murmur, “can be dangerous if left unchecked. they can consume you.“

a few of the women murmured, their voices barely audible. you remained silent, your heart thudding painfully in your chest. his fingers brushed against your shoulder, lightly, almost as if by accident, but you knew it wasn’t. the touch was deliberate, testing. father charlie leaned in more, pressing himself into the chair fully now. “god forgives,” his voice velvety, his hand lingering on your shoulder for a moment too long. “but only if you are truly willing to repent. to give yourself fully to him . .. .”

you stiffened, not sure if you were reacting to the feel of him or the fact that he was singling you out again.

you wanted to stand, to leave, but something kept you anchored to the chair. a combination of guilt, fear, and an unshakable sense that you should’ve never came.

father charlie moved away, continuing his slow pace around the group of beautiful women. he spoke about discipline, about submission to god’s will, about sin and repentance, but each word felt laced with something darker. something unspoken.

you glanced around the room, noticing the way the other women seemed to hang onto his every word, their eyes ogling and admiring how he carried himself. you weren’t sure what you expected from this session, but the way he spoke about desire — like it was something to be ashamed of — made you uncomfortable. sure, you had your own struggles, but was that really something that needed to be controlled like a disease?

this was something else entirely . .. . and it was confusing.

as the session dragged on, you realized that the shame you felt was from being here, in this room, where father charlie wielded his authority like a blade, cutting away at the parts of you that made you human.

at the end of the session, as the other women began to gather their things and shuffle toward the door, father charlie gestured for you to stay behind. you hesitated, but the weight of expectation pressed down on you, making it impossible to refuse.

you slung the strap over your shoulder and held the leather close, as if to comfort yourself.

and once the room was empty, he stepped to you, a smile creeping back onto his face. “thank you for sharing this afternoon. that was quite the story,” he said, his tone sickeningly sweet. “i know you said that this was a . .. . ‘one and done’, type of thing-“

you wanted to speak but nothing came out.

“but, i think we need to have a private conversation. just you and me. i can help you further. i would like to help you further, y/n.”

the bile rose in your throat, but all you could manage was a nod, the fear of what would happen if you said no silencing you. you quickly turned your back and left for the double doors.

you entered quietly, hoping not to draw attention, but the oak door creaked louder than you expected, making a few heads turn. you weren’t that late, just a few minutes, but it was enough to feel the shift in the room’s energy as you found an empty chair in the circle. the same chair you had been seated in last weekend. father charlie had made sure to leave it out.

“punctuality is important,” father charlie said smoothly, his voice breaking through the murmurs as he watched you take your seat. his smile was there, but it didn’t reach his eyes. you gave a quick nod of apology, shifting uncomfortably as you settled in, trying to brush off the feeling that all eyes were on you.

this time . .. . you were here by choice — you hadn’t told your grandmother norrice that father charlie had asked you to return. you knew that if you did, she’d throw a fit. she’d throw a damn superbowl party — it unsettled you, but at the same time, something pulled at you. maybe it was curiosity, or maybe it was the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about how he had made you feel just by looking at you, as if he could see something in you that no one else could. whatever it was, it brought you back.

there was a distance between you and the women, a sense that you weren’t part of their world just yet. a sense that you were special, and far more important to father charlie.

“but, i am glad that you’ve decided to return.” you gave a small nod, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag. “yeah, i . .. . i figured i’d give it another try,” you had said.

he nodded, as if he had expected nothing less. “good. very good.” father charlie smiled at you, but it wasn’t comforting. there was something behind it — something almost predatory in the way he seemed to hold his gaze on you, like he was sizing you up. then, he turned to address the group, but his words felt distant, again like they were just for show. you couldn’t focus on the session. your thoughts were too tangled, your mind too occupied with what he had said last time.

i think we need to have a private conversation.

“even if-when you don’t believe,” father charlie said, closing in behind your chair, his voice low enough that only you could hear, “god has a plan for you. you just have to let him in.”

you swallowed hard, fingers swiping along the smooth paint of your nails, unsure of what else to do. his hand found your shoulder for a second or three before he moved on, continuing his speech. the other women nodded along, their heads still bowed in what looked like submission.

as the session dragged on, you found yourself drifting in and out of the conversation, only half-listening. you weren’t here for the church, you weren’t here for god, you weren’t here for your grandmother, you weren’t here to be lectured about how your desires were dangerous if not properly controlled . .. . you were here for father charlie.

as the session wound down, the other women began to gather their things, exchanging quiet goodbyes. father charlie’s eyes followed them out, but he didn’t speak. he was waiting — waiting for them to leave, waiting for you. he caught your eye, giving you a knowing look. “stay . .. ?” he mouthed, the request felt more like a command.

tension.

when the last of the women finally left, the door closing softly behind her, the room seemed to shrink. the room felt different — charged. father charlie slowly walked over to where you sat, his presence looming larger now that it was just the two of you. his smile was still there, but it was different in this quiet space, more intense, more focused.

father charlie sat down in the chair right next to you. he scooted closer to you, grunting as he moved the chair with him — scraping it against the stone floor. his voice was soft, intimate. “i’m really glad you gave this another chance.” his dark eyes locked on yours with a strange intensity. “you know, sometimes the answers we are looking for are . .. . in places we wouldn’t expect.”

��like the basement of my grandmother’s church,” you had said mindlessly. father charlie gave you a gentle grin, showing you that he had been amused. barely. “yeah. exactly that. the basement of your grandmother’s church. but . .. . like i was saying-“ his hand brushed lightly against your arm, “-i think that you’re searching,” his voice a bit lower, like a secret was being shared. “-searching for something deeper, something that no one else can give you. i see it in you, the desire for connection.”

connection.

“i want to help you work through . .. . your urges.”

there was no mistaking it now — the way he said urges, the way his voice dipped, made it clear he wasn’t talking about faith or repentance anymore. “we all have them,” he murmured, his eyes scanning your face like he was looking for something, some sign of compliance or curiosity. “it happens.” his hand slid downward. just a little closer they went . .. . fingers grazing the back of your hand, subtle but deliberate. “i can guide you through it,” he whispered. “let me help you.”

your pulse quickened, a sense of alarm flooding through you, but there was also a need.

“you have to trust me. you have to let me in.”

“i don’t . .. know. i don’t think-“

father charlie’s smile deepened, his hand gently squeezing your forearm. “sometimes, we don’t know what we need until we find it. trust me. you’re here for a reason. god brought you back for a reason, right?”

his words hung in the air, heavy with a meaning that wasn’t lost on you.

“i don’t know,” you repeated yourself.

you tried to look away, but his hand reached out, his fingers lightly gripping your chin, forcing your gaze back to him — like he was trying to hold you in place, make you stay in this moment with him. “i know what you’ve been feeling. i know what’s pulling at you. you want to give in, yeah? to feel something . .. .”

“sometimes . .. . we’re not meant to fight it. sometimes, we’re meant to feed it.” he dropped his hand from your chin.

“but yesterday, you said . .. .”

he chuckled softly, but there was no humor in it, only a dark edge. “i know what you want. i know what your body wants, what it’s demanding from the world.” his hand moved, not to your arm this time, but to the small space between your shoulder blades. “and there’s nothing wrong with wanting and needing to feel pleasure. most times, we need personal attention to overcome and strive.

“i didn’t tell the others; but sometimes . .. . we have to allow ourselves to feel these things in order to rise above it. that’s how we control it.” his fingers slid down your back slowly. “desire can a gift — one that can bring two closer to the truth of who we are. allow me to help you feed it.”

. .. .

“are you going to let me help you now?”

. .. .

“yes.”

and he wasted no time bringing a hand up to grab the zip of your short-sleeved hoodie. he pulled down carefully, the plump cleavage of your breasts peeking. his other hand smoothed along your curly slicked back hair, “thank you,” he whispered.

and though you were prepared for something like this, the contraceptives in your purse went unused. when charlie had seen you flick it out — showing off the metallic dark green wrapper, the imprint of the condom bold — he refused, immediately: “no.” simple. flat and cold.

charlie plucked the packet from your perfectly-manicured fingers and tossed it across the floor, dark eyes boring into you. you looked at him as if he had lost his mind. just as you were about dig into the pocket for the other condom, charlie gripped your wrist; the pressure gentle but firm. “what do you mean ‘no’?” you asked — though you knew exactly what he meant.

“i have something real to give.” in other words, he would not be spilling his seed into some rubbery latex. there was no blocking him out. “i need you to feel everything. okay? you need to.” you couldn’t oppose him.

and here you were: holding onto his forearms. his arms had prodding veins for days. from his wrists to the tops of his large shoulders. he was so built, you weren’t at all expecting it. “. .. ready, angel?” you nodded down at him sweetly, hands sliding up to his flexed biceps. “wan’a be yours already. please ..” charlie had you right where he wanted you. there was something so nasty about the smirk that grew across his face, “god saved you for me . .. . wanted me to have you.”

“mm, think so?” came quiet and soft.

“know so,” charlie muttered, stroking himself messily. “i know so.” he reached down for you, carefully lining himself up with your heavenly entrance. “taste me.” his words are sweet, poison laced sugar. you kissed him, letting your eyes close as you did so.

and when he slipped inside, spongy and slimy, it was like his own personal hell. you were so much better than he could’ve imagined. charlie had gone completely silent, choking on air — like he was just punched in the gut. there’s no comparison, no feeling in the world . .. . he couldn’t form a single, coherent thought. you were gripping him just right, massaging his cock like you really were made to have him as your first. like he was made to stretch your hymen.

“fucking shhit,” charlie’s head gradually tossed itself back. he couldn’t keep his mouth shut, couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice, couldn’t keep himself from hiccuping and mumbling your name and calling you ‘angel’. “f-fuck. fuck, fuck, hang’on, f-please . .. hang on.” charlie had to pause halfway, huffing out an overwhelmed breath. he’s drooling — he couldn’t quite fathom how amazing you felt on the inside.

you sighed, and sighed again as his nose brushed your throat, as he guided your hips — slowly and tediously, pulling you up and down. your jaw hung open desperately, toes curling with each vein he gradually dragged so rigidly along your walls. “i’ve got y-you . .. . i promise, angel. i’ve got’cha,” you were taking him so well despite the pain, making it harder to resist the urge to pound into you.

your cunt readily accepting the priest’s dick as it oozed against your insides and spreads the flame of desire.

he’s making your pussy his own; shaping your cunt, molding you into the perfect cocksleeve. pretty much carving his name into it. and he was trying his best. trying so hard to be as gentle and as slow as he could possibly be, fighting every bad thought that so tightly pulled and demanded he go deeper. charlie did well, swallowing those thoughts down . .. but it was tiring.

it was exhausting. so fucking exhausting, especially when your desperate cunt keeps sucking and swallowing him in deeper after each and every pass. charlie kissed and licked at your neck, blankly trying to distract himself — which gave nothing. your cunt would not let up. nothing would give. not like this. there was no way. there was nothing in this world strong enough to pull him away from you and your warm cunt.

charlie’s guiding your hips so slow that it was painful. he’s trying to make every thrust connect — he’s groaning and struggling to keep his dark eyes open. you're smothering his entire cock with nothing but your slippery slick, hearing the filthy clicks ring from in between your sweaty thighs — he’s so lost in the sounds of you.

you are secured to him; fingers tangled into his brunette hair, gripping strands and raking your nails along his scalp, eliciting a satisfying moan to slip past his pretty lips. you blinked away, only for a moment, and stared down at his glossy lips. covered in his spit, your toes are curling. your tummy is doing cartwheels — butterflies no longer butterflies but pterodactyls.

“y-you’re .. . .. ‘t’s so deep ..” charlie gave a gentle smile, one hand slipping up and caressing the curve of your back. “i know i am. i know. i can feel it too, angel.” your sleepy gaze remained on his smiling lips. you licked at your own, almost leaning in to capture his. “i can feel everything . .. .” and you felt fan-fucking-tastic. “everything.”

you bit back a smile.

charlie winced lowly, his thighs starting to rattle. “hurts to .. to keep goin’ this slow ..”

it felt like he was worshipping you — that you are the sacred body here, two bright candles flickering in the corner — he’s worshipping you, you’re sure of it, with tongue and teeth and cock. it’s messy, and he’s not shy, those lips that could stir a congregation with their sweetness, his golden tongue .. . “nngh-wait,” you pleaded softly. “w-wha’?”

clenching around him so tight you could feel the outline of his prominent veins, the sensitive spots along his shaft. charlie’s brows furrow in clean focus, letting out a sultry string of words, “i .. i can’t.” he's buried nose deep near the crook of your neck. “i’m sorry, angel. i can’t .. fuck, i can’t.” he softly rasped as deep brown locks of hair stick against his shiny skin. “takin’ everything in me . .. i’m tryin’, fuckk, i’m tryin’ for you-don’t wan’ it to hurt . .. .” you felt his throaty pants trail against your skin, “but i’ve gotta go harder.”

with a sheepish smile, you met his chocolate-eyed gaze, moaning a soft: “okay ..”

“y-yeah?”

your weak arms wrapped around his broad shoulders, the pads of your fingers almost rubbing against a fresh scar, “mhmm .. . do it, please.” the ghost of a smirk. charlie’s thick fingers clasped at your waist; the decorative beads printing mini dents into your brown skin. effortless, he lifted your hips and fixed himself — the feet of the chair loudly scratching the cold, stone floor. “you’re the best i’ve ever felt, angel .. . s’hot inside. s’soft.” that deep, silky whisper has your cunt quivering disgustingly. and he’s driving his hips up, fast, drilling himself into your body.

“so fuckin’ wet-“ one hand cupped the side of your face, bringing you in. you’re both panting, quick and short, breathing hot and heavy air into each other’s mouths. “pretty hole sucking me in so good . .. .” your teeth nipped at your plump lower lip, drinking him in. charlie’s hot fingers slipped underneath your waistbeads, toying with the jewellery. “so good, angel . ..”

the gel slicking back your naturally thick hair put up zero match against the heat of this basement. edges once neatly laid, were puffing up — stretched curls lifting out of place and shrinking.

“fuck-never wanna leave.” your heart continued to race at his obscene words. and you caressed his face, whispering about how good he was making you feel. he mewled at your validation, wanting to please, needing to be the best for you.

and he’s so loud, so hungry for more. with the way charlie’s long lashes flutter and his hooded eyes droop, he was so visibly pussy drunk. already nearing the edge and trying his best not to tip over. balancing on a uni-cycle on a string of the cheapest of cheap dental floss.

he could practically taste the pleasure on his tongue — release is coming quick and there was no preparing himself for it. not enough preparation in the world. the pointed tips of his ears burn with intense, searing heat.

“oh my-! oh god!”

“no-“ charlie cursed under his breath and snapped a hand over your throat, all five fingers digging into your brown skin — “-no. fuck no. you don’t call on god. you-you don’t call on him. don’t. he’s not makin’ you feel good. i am. you call on me,” he ordered, harshly. and all you can is nod and follow his direction. “call for me . .. . do it.” you’re practically speechless, nothing left from your lips yet, all that could be heard was the constant slap slap slap of slippery skin.

and his hand tightened around your neck. “come on, angel . .. say my name.” charlie’s muscled chest heaved up and down, hard. “fucking call on me.”

your hands latched onto his wrist — this new feeling, you couldn't quite describe it. it was tasty and he was peeling you apart, layer by layer. “do it. who’s makin’ you feel good? huh? who’s breakin’ you in half? .. . who’s splittin’ you the fuck open?”

“charlie!” all you can do is choke out a shrill. “you are!”

what happens next takes you by surprise — charlie locked his big burly arms under your thighs and stood up, keeping himself plugged in; nice and snug. the new position, standing, had charlie’s head spinning. he grunted loudly, and it’s a sexy guttural noise. your legs kicking and dangling in the air as he feeds your cunt inch by greedy inch, again and again. “charlie .. .” you whined, pulling at his hair.

“shiit,” and as if a switch had been flipped, hot sticky ribbons shoot right into you, spilling way into your sweet welcoming womb. you gasped, nails scratching into his large shoulders — and the feel of him letting go inside of you has you cumming as well. his panting is deep and animalistic. he held onto your shivering body tighter, his hips never faltering.

beefy arms lifting your sticky body up again, he’s back at it — pushing and eager to reach another one. “a-angel .. .” his entire body hot and heavy. “gonna fill you up again-i’ve gotta.” his brown eyes continued to grow hooded and low.

you were still trying to recover. still coming down from your first orgasm and just barely adjusting to the feel of having his previous load fucked even deeper. “‘m gonna cum again,” he warned softly — cream tearing down his trembly thighs. he’s silently babbling out more whispers and moans of your name. “givin’ you all of me .. .”

you’re flustered right away and wanting to kiss him, hungry to. but as your leaning in, the heels of your feet knocking into the back of his thighs hard, he hoists your legs over his shoulders without so much as a warning. you’re scared to fall, but he won’t let you. he promised you through shaky moans, rocking you up and down.

and you’re gonna pass out, eyes knocking in the back of your skull. your legs bobbing from the movement, you’re trapped against him — and it’s even hotter. even messier and you can’t squirm at all. charlie’s watching your face contort and scrunch and there goes his ego; shooting through the church’s roof and into space. you’re barely hanging onto his big arms and he’s feeling so good about himself. “i can’t-can’t anymore,” you cried to him.

“but you can, angel . .. .” charlie snapped. “keep takin’ it .. and let’s finish together, ‘kay?” and every time you touched down on him, you squeal —

— “charlie . ..” you cooed, voice cracking cutely. your voice made his cock twitch and from the inside, you felt it all . .. . and it felt so nice. so sweet and so insanely intimate. “ch-charlie, pleaseee.” sickly, your voice bounces along the holy walls of the church’s basement.

lips parting as he tried to find his voice: “cum with me, angel-do it,” he pleaded. charlie felt every little reaction and spasm. every cute gasp and cry and moan sent a thick rush through his aching body. and you’re cumming again, holding onto him as tight as you can, clawing at his biceps.

and that’s when he lets go. pumping in yet another hot, thick load of his cum — you almost gag at the re-fill. his grip weakened, but charlie doesn’t let you fall. he told you that he won’t, so he won’t. he’s shivering, feeling a wave crash down onto him as he’s caving into his high . .. .

if this is sin — this beautiful, divine feeling — then what is the point of it all?

[radioactiverats]

Mentor Starscream x seeker!reader

This is a mashup of all the timelines basically (._.) Starscream has been on the brain recently... In the firsts of a long journey, I have gotten my first two blokees from blind boxes (Grapple and Ironhide). Let's see how long it'll take me to get Starscream TvT

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

Ever since you joined the Vosian Air Academy as a young cadet, Starscream had been there. Everyone knew who Starscream was. How could you not, when he was such a high-profile cybertronian? You thought that the most you would ever see of him at the academy was his printed frame on the glossy posters stuck up everywhere - some with motivational slogans, some showing off some genuinely impressive flying maneuvers, and some advertising the war effort against the Quintessons.

Understandably, it came as a surprise to learn that he would be personally taking on your first year tactical maneuvers class.

Even before your first class, rumours ran rampant. Starscream is very strict, your fellow cadets whispered, in tones of both fear and admiration. You're fragged if he picks on you. Better avoid his punishments. Didn't you hear what happened to the bot who failed to execute his instructions the first time?

Your apprehension, however, was definitely outweighed by admiration and curiosity. No matter how snappy he seemed, your future instructor was still the Air Commander of Vos, which was no small feat. Unlike several other government positions which required the right connections rather than skills, Air Commander was not a position one could hope to take on without truly having mastered the skies.

The first time you see him, you, as well as many others, are instantly in awe of his commanding presence. He's taller than you thought, frame polished and his beautiful wings a shimmering white. The sharp lines of his faceplate and the delicate point of his chin exemplify his graceful form, and his optics flick over the new recruits in a calculating manner. The expression on his faceplate is severe, as you expected, but not cruel. He barks out a command for you to get in a line, snarling when inexperience clashes with the rush to obey, several of you crashing clumsily into each other.

"Finally," Starscream snaps, when you eventually arrange yourselves in a semi-straight line. "If you lot cannot execute even the simplest of commands, how do you expect to survive the war?"

It sounds harsh, but he's not wrong. It sinks in again that you are here because, despite all propaganda saying otherwise, it seems that the war against the Quintessons is not going well. Why else would there have been a mass recruitment exercise? You, and the rest of your class, are going to be shipped straight off to war when you graduate the academy. As the reality of the situation sinks in, Starscream's words suddenly seem less like a scolding and more like a warning. You straighten your frame a little more, shoulders back, chassis out. If the Air Commander himself is giving you tips on how to survive the war, by Primus, you're going to listen.

Starscream announces waspishly that you are going to learn how to do a breakaway maneuver today.

"Everyone," Starscream threatens, "and I mean everyone, is going to perform this maneuver successfully within this solar cycle, or there will be consequences. Understood?"

There are only a few weak "yes sir's" from the line, but Starscream simply scoffs and chooses not to waste his time enforcing a show of authority. It's clear from the wide optics fixated on him that he's already won your admiration.

"Watch," is all he says, before he's smoothly transforming before you into his alt-mode and, with a cacophonous boom, blasts off into the stratosphere.

All of you can't hold back your shouts of amazement as you scatter from your haphazard line to get a better look. The F-15 dips and twirls though the sky, slicing through fluffy clouds like butter before slowing to a stop. Then, as all of you watch with mounting excitement, Starscream begins his demonstration - the F-15 begins to gain speed, faster, and faster again, until you're certain he's going to break the sound barrier and blip into nothingness - when suddenly, the jet swerves at a supremely clean ninety-degree angle without losing any of its speed.

All your classmates are shouting and hooting at the frankly incredible demonstration, even as Starscream transforms back into bot-mode and comes to a smooth stop in front of you. It might have been your imagination, but his plates are drawn less tight around him, and he exudes a breathless, self-satisfied air. This you can understand - all seekers would agree that the feeling of flying is second to none.

You're dreamily replaying Starscream's demonstration in your processor, and startle when a finger jabs into your field of vision. Your optics cycle, and you freeze when you realize that none other than Starscream is towering right over you, a calculating sneer on his faceplate.

"You," he snaps. "Seems that you have a very clear recollection of my demonstration, have you not?"

You nod, unable to speak, and watch with rapt fascination as his intake curls into a smirk.

"In that case," Starscream drawls, "you should have no trouble going first, hmm?"

You stiffen. The upperclassmen had warned you about this - Starscream tended to choose cadets he could make examples of, for better or for worse. But as you meet his optics, it's not cruelty you find - but a challenge.

"Well?" Starscream says. "We don't have the entirety of the solar cycle to be standing around like idiots."

The rest of the cadets have fallen into an almost horrified silence - yet, you can feel the relief emanating from the others that they haven't been picked. You prickle at that. You've not been picked to take the fall - you look at Starscream again, full in the faceplate, a simmering defiance beneath your plates. A hand on his cocked hip now, his optics boring into yours, daring you to accept. You remember what you saw in his faceplate the first time. Severity, sure, but not cruelty.

What if, you wonder, it's all been a misconstrued. Starscream doesn't pick on the weaker ones. He picks the ones who look like they're up to a challenge - and by Primus, you are going to impress him or die trying.

You stride up to a patch of open land, engines thrumming as you prepare to take off. The initial feeling of leaving the ground behind, launching yourself into open space always thrills you. You transform, and waste no time in accelerating with a sonic boom - soaring higher and higher and higher, engines warm and your processor humming with the ecstasy of flying. Slowing to a hovering stop, you take in the tiny figures of your classmates below you, so small they look like dots.

You accelerate, slicing through cloud after cloud after cloud and, it's now or never - your engines scream as you twist as sharply as you can to your right, narrowly avoiding careening off balance as a burst of speed aids your recovery. Energon thrums through your frame with the adrenaline of it all.

"Not bad," comes a raspy voice from your left. You almost tumble out of the air in shock. Starscream, in his alt-mode, soaring alongside you. Had he been here the whole time? "Descend, cadet."

Both of you reach the ground in tandem, with you still reeling from the shock of Starscream flying beside you, staggering ungracefully as soon as your pedes hit the ground.

"Our first volunteer was able to execute the maneuver on their first attempt," Starscream says. His optics are still fixed on you, appraising. If you look really hard, you might detect a hint of satisfaction, dare you say, at your performance. "I expect that the rest of you will have no trouble following suit."

And by some minor miracle, your entire squadron does manage to pull the maneuver off by sundown, even if Starscream does lose his temper here and there.

"Primus, he's a slavedriver," one of your classmates moans. "I can barely feel my wings anymore." And it's true - your own frame screams from exertion, but you've accomplished more in a single day with Starscream than with any other instructor. The ache in your frame is well-earned, and your respect for Starscream has only grown - he might be snappy on the outside, but the careful way with which he'd guided each cadet through the maneuver did not go unnoticed.

The first stellar cycle passed by reasonably uneventfully, but you were proudly able to say that you'd distinguished yourself as one of Starscream's top pupils - his optics would soften ever so slightly when it came to you. Unfortunately, the rest of his hard work would go abruptly up in flames. An unexpected Quintesson attack on the Air Academy had left you the sole survivor of your entire squadron. And before you even had time to take in this shocking loss, the miner Orion Pax had exposed Sentinel Prime for the fraud he was and been reborn as Optimus Prime. Just like that, the Cybertron you had always known split into two factions. The Quintessons had always been a common enemy - but now, this looked grimly like civil war.

In the aftermath of Sentinel's downfall, Starscream had searched for you, first thing, something akin to panic in his optics. "Thank Primus," he muttered. "Come, we have no time - " And you looked around you as Cybertron split before your eyes, seekers taking to the skies to follow the bot now known as Megatron. Starscream seems to sense your hesitation, and pauses.

"I-" he begins, servos clenching into fists as his wings hitch upwards. "I will not question your decision." You can see it though, in every trembling iota of his frame, that he wants you to come with him. And, glancing behind you at a crumbling Cybertron, the only thing familiar to you is Starscream - you decide right there and then that you would follow him to the ends of the earth.

You meet his optics as you launch yourself upwards, and are nearly knocked back by the overwhelming relief that you find. No matter what the uncertain future holds, you are certain that Starscream will always be there.

Megatron, your new leader, dubs you the decepticons. A few vorns pass as your exiled group finds its feet - Starscream has been made Second in Command. You expected no less. And you suspect that the reason you've made it so long without major incident is that Starscream has been secretly shielding you from the worst of your leader. However, with each stellar cycle you grow restless - you miss Cybertron, your homeworld, and you begin to question Megatron's cruelty. That was where he and Starscream differed - Megatron's harshness stemmed from outright cruelty, whereas Starscream's severity was never without reason. Did you choose the wrong side, after all? You find yourself disagreeing with most of your leader's bloodthirsty ideals - yet, Starscream is still here. And surely, you couldn't go wrong by staying at his side?

Watching Megatron make an example of a fellow seeker is the last straw for you - he'd forced every decepticon to watch as he pummeled dents into their delicate frame, ripped wires and leaking energon and battered wings when he was done. You'd turned away and shot off into the skies without a second thought as soon as he'd left. Heel thrusters screaming as you push yourself further, you rocket though the atmosphere until you see the twinkling of the stars in deep space - so close to zero-gravity, every inch of your frame screaming at you to get as far away as possible, when suddenly, you're thrown off-course by a large servo clamping onto your pede.

You shriek, but what's even more shocking is the fact that it's Starscream who has a death grip on you.

"How- how did you-?"

"I trained you, in case you've forgotten," Starscream snarls. "Of course I know your maneuvers."

Both of you fall silent for a few nanokliks. "If I let go," Starscream says, "are you going to jet off?"

Silently, you shake your helm. Honestly, you can't remember the last time that it was just you and him. Megatron's been very demanding - the air commander looks ragged, plates pulled tight with anxiety every time you see him, which was rarely.

Starscream lets go of you with a ragged ex-vent, both of you hovering in place.

You're genuinely not sure where to go from here. You processor spins with the implications of the future at the hands of a violent warlord, at a war that has no end in sight. A war is something you want no part in, but it seems your choices are limited - the battered frame of the seeker flashes through your processor, and your desperation surges once more - you are this close to leaving everything you've ever known behind, if it means escaping the horrors of the war.

"Stop running," Starscream hisses. There's a pinched look on his faceplate, and your wings droop for a nanoklik - guilt sparks though you as you consider the fact that Starscream has been on the receiving end of way worse treatment. Your duty is to him - you feel ashamed that you even considered leaving him behind. But unexpectedly, Starscream ex-vents, and he looks more tired than you've ever seen him.

"I don't want this, either," he mutters. "You - you're all I have left. I understand wanting to run from the war, but..."

It goes unspoken, but you hear him loud and clear.

Don't run from me.

"I can't... I can't help you if you turn away," he says, eventually. You move a little closer, enough for your EM fields to brush - there's guilt there, as if he's blaming himself for putting you in this position - protectiveness, too, and you realise for the first time that Starscream genuinely sees you as his charge.

You're deep enough in the fighting as is, but damned if Starscream isn't determined to see you through this war unscathed.

"Anything happens," he rasps, an oddly open look in his optics. "You come to me. Understood?"

Caught in a war you want no part in, you're aware that Starscream is trying to shield you from the worst of it while he attempts to make the best of a horrible situation. At the very least, you know he has your back, and you hope he knows that you have his.

"Yes, sir!"

Next

[angrykittybarbarian]

About that Dragon Age: The Veilguard audio web series

Thinking back about the marketing for DATV I now realize it was kind of deceptive.

No, it was not literal fraud. They did not make specific promises and then broke them, not explicitely and in a way you could hold them liable in court over. And I get when you are advertising your product you will of course highlight its most favorable aspects while not shoving its negative sides into everyone's noses.

However I do think that EA/Bioware did stretch out the boundaries between regular endorsement and fraud.

It started with the web series Vows and Vengeance they uploaded weekly on Youtube right before release. At that time I was still hopeful and excited for the game. And Vows and Vengeance all but encouraged that excitement.

You know why? Because, and this surprised me, it was genuinely good.

Vows and Vengeance functioned as an early introduction to the companions. While they were not the main characters they did play a key role in each episode. The plot was what could be typically expected from a regular DA installment. It had a dark, gripping story. The dialogue was well written. It dealt with mature themes, it actually discussed the classism of Tevinter.

Lucanis was a proper crow who killed a good man because he was hired to do so. He was positively morally grey. Davrin had actually strong opinions when the main character dropped the Dread Wolf's name. Bellara was interesting in that it became clear how she struggled with her ADHD without using infantile language, Scout Harding acted smart, mature and competent, Taash was a morally grey bad ass, fitting for a freelance treasure hunter and with smart and witty dialogue to go with it.

It was amazing, I found myself excited every week for a new episode. It got me interested in the companions. I already contemplated to romance Taash because they were so cool and charismatic in that series. I thought, if a FREE webseries that was made for advertisement was already this great then the game had to be nothing short of phenomenal.

And then it just...wasn't. There was nothing of the depth that came through in the web series. It was as if I was presented with a sample of a multilayered chocolate cake but got a dry brownie after I actually paid the full price for it.

The sheer audacity behind this course of action is still so inconcievable to me, I sometimes still wonder why they put effort into writing the free thing and not the product they demand payment for. I still don't get it. The only explanation is they purposefully put out a misleading sample to lure in the customers in the beginning to spend money, right?

This fraud adjacent behavior does not stop there.

Remember when we thought we would be importing our worldstates from our previous games? There wasn't even a question about it in the beginning because this is such an intrinsic Bioware feature. But then the info about the three choices in the character creator leaked.

Leaked!

Meaning they never intended for this information to be known pre-release. They fully intended to keep it secret until it would be too late. They also never said they wanted a soft reboot.

This is the conclusion the fandom has drawn after they destroyed their own lore and went scorched earth on the entire south of Thedas.

And the biggesr lie was when they said this was their best work. After all this!

This is the reason why DATV's shortcomings are so devastating. This is why so many feel like the game was a slap to their faces. EA/Bioware gaslit and manipulated us from the very beginning. We have been cheated and betrayed.

The last bit of trust I and many others had in Bioware, they mercilessly crushed.

I personally will never take even one thing they say at face value again. You can only trust their actions from now on.

[jinkicake]

HSHDHSHD HI AGAIN I JUST SAW UR CHILDE AND SCARAMOUCHE ARRANGE MARRIAGE POST AND I GO SJGNFNFNFNDNNFNDNG THE WAY U WRITE ARRANGE MARRIAGE TROPES>>>>>>/lh UR WRITTING IS SO GOOD!! I ALWAYS COMEBACK AND RE READ IT EVERYTIME AND I JUST REALIZED U ALSO WRITE FOR OBEY ME?! AND UR WRITING IS THE FIRST FEW ONES I'VE READ AFTER I JOIN THE OM FANDOM TOO?!👀💖💐

Ps. Would u mind if I request a 2nd part for the arrange marriage aus for the first fews chars (esp. Perrio👀) if nit they it's fine <33 thx u for creating such an amazing content!!💖💖

Forced / Arranged Marriage Trope

(pt. ??) Alhaitham, Dottore, Pierro, Zhongli x Reader

fem!reader bc I like the use of ‘wife’

A/N: hi anon!! thank you for being so patient w me and for being so sweet </333 T T i hope you like this~~ if you want me to do part2 for anyone else let me know!! I only did it for zhongli and pierro teehee bc i also wanted to add alhaitham and dottore (i hope that is alright~~)

WC - 3.2k

- yandere!dottore  // dottore is his own warning -

NSFW // LIGHT SMUT (pierro+zhongli)

~~~

Alhaitham

“I will be home after sundown, habibti." Alhaitham places a gentle hand on your shoulder after he stands up from his chair at the dining room table. He lowers his head with a slight dip of his neck to place a kiss on the crown of your hair. “Be good today.” 

And then he is gone. 

Months have passed since your husband began staying late after work. You don’t understand it in the slightest, he hates doing unnecessary tasks. The entire time you’ve known him, courting and beyond, Alhaitham has always spared time in his day for his interests. One day, he even told you that his favorite part of each day was settling down to read. He likes to live a carefree and relaxed lifestyle, so staying late in the Akademiya seems like the complete opposite of that. 

Regardless, you bear the weight of your suspicions and ignore it. 

You focus on being the docile wife you were advertised as and focus on your housework. In truth, your arranged marriage could not have gone any better. Despite your parents parading you around, you somehow found the most laid-back candidate who suited your needs to a t. Every night you thank the Lesser Lord Kusanali for such a kind husband, who lets you come and go as you please. You would have probably hired a hit on your parents, as opposed to never speaking with them again, if they married you away to a cruel man. 

However, housework only keeps you busy for so long and before you know it, it is ten am and you have finished everything that you wanted to do for the day. You could go bother your husband’s old roommate or have a meal with your friend but, you notice that Alhaitham left his lunch today. The neatly prepared and packed lunch is still sitting on the counter where you left it. He must have forgotten to grab it. 

With ignorance only Alhaitham could have installed in you, a result of keeping you in the dark for so long, you head toward the Akademiya. However, you regret it once you speak with his co-workers. 

“Alhaitham is not here today.”

“Your husband? He didn’t come in this morning,”

“I heard he was heading to Port Ormos after speaking with the Gauhar.”

Through your dejection, you braced a kind smile and thanked them all before heading back home. What could your husband possibly be going to the port for? He’s not a student anymore, there’s no reason for him to be going there. 

Unless someone else is there. 

You stubbornly try to shake that negative thought out of your head as you walk through the marketplace. As if Alhaitham would commit something of adultery, he doesn’t show interest in anything or anyone. 

Perhaps, you will have to speak about this with him when he returns home. 

Returning home that night was not something Alhaitham did. In fact, he did not return back to you for two nights and only appeared on the third morning of his disappearance. 

To say that you were upset would be an understatement and your husband was able to see it the second he walks in through the door. 

“(Y/N), I know I have been gone-”

“Where have you been?” You don’t give him the chance to begin with the sorry apologies as you cross your arms over your chest, you get straight to the point. 

“It was for the Akademiya, I cannot discuss the matters with you and you know this.” He sounds sincere enough, there’s a tiredness to his words that you can’t pinpoint. “I wanted to check in with you before I returned.”

“Check in with me?” You scoff and start to look at him as if he had grown three heads. “Check in with me before returning to your mistress?” 

“My mistress?” Alhaitham raises a subtle brow and keeps a straight face despite the amusement growing in his chest. 

“Why else have you been gone so long? Staying out so late? I’m not a fool and personally, I don’t care about who else you see.” You lie straight through your teeth, lie until you choke. Alhaitham sighs before stepping closer toward you. 

“I really cannot share the details of this assignment just yet, you have to believe me, habibti.” He gently cups your shoulders, giving the area a soft squeeze before soothingly running over the planes of your back. “Listen to me when I say that I would never think of betraying you so cruelly.” And, before you have a chance to react, Alhaitham lowers his face to brush his lips against your ear. Vulnerability spills through his every word. “Please do not act so indifferent about the matter of us, I want you to care as freely about me as I do you.”

Smoothly, his hand cups your face and tilts you his way. 

“No matter what thoughts you may come up with on your own, trust the logic that I love you.”

Dottore

“The Doctor will return from his mission sometime next week, perhaps during the beginning of the new moon-”

During the message personally delivered from your husband by a trusted subordinate, you can’t help but audibly groan. 

“Why must he ruin my entire week with his presence? Did he specifically plan to return on Monday? Why couldn’t he have come back the following Saturday or Sunday?” You place your pen down with great irritation and with it, the notebook you were writing in slams shut. The large Fatui soldier stares down at you, quite flabbergasted by your actions. At the lack of response from your maids, he continues. 

“Well, The Doctor wanted to spend some time with you before his next mission-”

“You’re kidding?” This time, you stand up and slam your palms against the strong wooden desk. Hatred and frustration flow through your veins, nearly choking you by your throat. “When you receive word that he is on his way, within a day away from me, then you will come back here and tell me. Understand?” You and your shorter frame could not nearly pose up to the Vanguard standing before you but, given the status of your esteemed husband, you can speak with him and any other solider of your choice however you want.

“Yes, my lady.” He offers a respectful bow before leaving your office and does not flinch under the intensity of your unwavering glare. 

“My day is ruined.” You hum and try to calm yourself down by rolling out your shoulders. Within an instant your close friends (the maids assigned to you by your beloved) are by your side, offering you their condolences and support. “We must prepare for the torture that his arrival is ensured to bring. Where are my earplugs?” 

Each day that follows, you work alongside other members of the house to prepare the cozy home that your husband chooses to reside in. Cozy is a cute way of describing it, this castle that hides within the mountains is anything but cozy. It’s large and empty but, you rather enjoy all the empty space that provides shelter when you’re hiding from your husband. 

In the midst of your breakfast later in the week, you’re interrupted by another announcement. 

“My lady, The Doctor will arrive-”

“What do you want?” You scowl and push your plate away, lowering your utensils before standing up from your chair. Now, just like your week and the ones that follow, your meal is ruined too. “I do not care when that wretched vermin will arrive. Tell me when he is here and leave me alone.”

“That is the thing, my lady, he is here early.” As one of the Legionaries beside the previous Vanguard steps to the side, your husband moves in front of you. He stands tall on the other side of the long dining room table and you have half a mind to sprint for the door. “I did not have time to issue the previous warning you asked for.”

“Warning? Is that how you speak of me when I am not around?” Dottore tilts his head slightly before slowly walking around the table. You try not to shake as he corners you, hands braced behind his back. “Oh? Where has your attitude gone? Down the drain with your fight?” 

He doesn’t have to remove his mask for you to see the sneer on his face, the anger that is sure to be littering his features. 

“Dear,” You nervously greet him, offering a pathetic smile that does little to hide your nerves. 

“Sweetheart,” He greets back just as gently but, you can see the tension in his shoulders. “I must confess that I was thinking we would spend time with one another before my next trip to Sumeru but, now I'm not so sure.” 

But? You mentally pray and pray to the Tsaritsa that he changes his mind and ditches you altogether, that he leaves you alone again for months on end. Anything would be better than facing his wrath. 

“I don’t think we need to see one another for a while.” He waits for you to let out the breath you were holding in, to sigh in relief, before gripping your jaw with his gloved hand. “I think it would only be fair since you’ll now be coming with me to Sumeru. We can spend the entire trip together, side by side. Finally, you’ll be able to see my work up close and not just from your timid frame in the lab doorway.”

You can’t hide the way your lip begins to quiver, eyes filling with tears. That is the last thing you would ever want. 

“Aren’t you excited, my wife? You must be since you’re near bursting into tears!” He mocks you until your soul breaks, until the farthest place you could ever be from him is no longer far enough. “If this is how you act when we are apart then, you will never be from my side ever again.”

Pierro

“You are a blessing,” Pierro murmurs lowly as his hands delicately sculpt your sides, gently he presses into your skin with his thick fingers. “a divine creation.” Like this, he worships you. His lips lightly trail between the valley of your breasts as he ascends up your body. “Hundreds of years have passed since I’ve felt this alive.”

Pierro slowly drags his lips up your throat and over your jaw to hover above your lips. His breath fans your chin, teasing you with his close proximity. He laughs when you tilt your chin in an attempt to kiss him, but it fails. 

Regardless of how you care for your husband outside of your shared bedroom, you always love him inside of it. 

“Please,” Your quiet voice sounds like a melody to the older man and he nearly sighs at the sweet tone. This is all he has ever desired, you wanting and yearning for him. He knows his words will never be enough to get this point across, ever.

With a light hand, the man brushes any lingering strands of your hair out of your face. He stares down at you with lust-filled eyes before cupping your jaw with his large palm. Subtly, Pierro tilts your face upward and meets your lips in a passionate kiss. As he presses his mouth against your own, applying just the correct amount of pressure, his thumb gently strokes your cheek. It’s a sweet kiss, one that leaves you breathless and wanting more. 

Before he can catch himself and reel in his self-restraint, Pierro cups your breast. Your arms loop around his neck, digging your fingers into his broad shoulders as he fondles and squeezes at your chest. The constant stimulation only makes you greedier for more and your hips create a mind of their own as you roll slowly upwards against his pelvis. 

“My wife,” Pierro groans, pulling away momentarily to catch his breath. His voice sounds shaky as he tries to fight back the overwhelming desire to just take you right now. “enough, before you make me do something I’ll regret.”

The first of the eleven Fatui harbingers thinks he has himself under control finally, that he will be able to continue but then you glance up at him. In your young eyes, mischief shines brighter than the life in his own. 

“It’s alright if I don’t regret it, don’t you think?” And then you kiss him once more. You yank roughly on his neck, catching him off guard, and pull him down again. 

The growl that leaves your husband is animalistic. His sharp reflexes snap at your wrist, pinning you effectively to the bed without much room to move. The kiss of his lips, once sweet, turns possessive and greedy as he presses you into submission. With little fight, you obediently fall right into his open palms with your lips parting at the slightest jut of his tongue. 

Skillful hips roll against your own, Pierro’s hard cock grinds into your clothed cunt and the sensation against your sensitive clit makes your eyes roll to the back of your head. When you start failing to kiss back, Pierro makes his attack. He squeezes your wrists and shoves his tongue into your mouth, swallowing and taking all that you will give him. Your thighs are beginning to burn against the stretch of being spread for his muscular waist but, the pain is dulled over at each slot of his hips. 

Your pitiful whimper pulls him from his conquest and Pierro remorsefully separates himself from your lips. 

“I need you,” Your whisper does not fall deaf on his ears, Pierro hears every single word. No matter how much you make fun of the older man, poking at his true age, he’s sharpened every one of his skills beyond their years. 

“I know, my beloved, I know what you need.” His hands make you sigh out loud as they run up and down your waist, breathy moans leave your lips. “Do you understand the affection that I hold for you? Are you aware of the effect you have on me?” Pierro closely watches your reaction, stares as you keep your eyes closed and don’t so much as flinch at his words. You simply hum and lay like a blessing against his sheets. Now, the older man lowers his lips to your stomach and presses his mouth into your skin. He gently creates a path to the band of your panties with each kiss getting heavier than the last. 

“One day, you will understand the true extent of my feelings.”

Zhongli

Lately, you’ve been worried about your husband. Your concerns are nothing new or anything revolutionary but, you can’t speak about it to your friends or others who are unaware of his godly status. To deal with the matter, you sought out the one person you could discuss the matter with, one of the people who know him better than you do. 

“I’m worried about Zhongli,” You sit patiently at the stone table, in your husband’s seat as you confess your inner feelings to the cloud retainer. 

“Zhongli?” The bird rolls her eyes, tasting the name on her tongue before it clicks. “Morax. What is there to be concerned about? Foolish girl, he adores you.” The cloud retainer raises a judgmental brow at your timidness as she pours you a cup of tea. She sits down with an elegance that makes you feel small in her presence. Still, you proceed. 

If any of the adeptus are going to listen to you, it’s her. If there is a single one that you can trust, it is her. 

“Isn’t that the problem?” Truthfully, you have been worried about the upcoming and unforeseen future. You’re always worried about it. Not that you will disappear soon but, mortal lives are nothing compared to that of an adeptus. How will he fare when you pass? How can you prepare him for it? “What will happen to him when I inevitably-”

The aged bird cuts you off before you can even finish your sentence. 

“Speaking of such circumstances when they are nowhere in the near future will only come back to bite you.” Cloud retainer quietly sips at her drink, leaving a few moments of silence between the two of you before she sighs. “Fully cherish the time you have with him, that is the only piece of advice I can offer you.”

And that is as far as you go with her on the matter, the conversation was over.

Still, in your heart, you weren’t satisfied with the answer.

It continued to bug you even as you tried to ignore it, even as you tried to cherish the time you have with the immortal. 

“How are you today, my dear?” Every single day when he returns, Zhongli finds you and presses a delicate kiss on your cheek. It’s a kind gesture that always makes you melt into the palm of his hand. 

It also, more often than not, always leads to something else. Something more intimate. 

“Would you forgive me if I said that I missed you today,” Zhongli’s low voice fills your senses and clouds your mind, leaving you barely unable to think. Now pressed into the couch with your husband over top of you, protectively holding your thighs over his hips, all you can do is take everything that the god has to give you. “I’m often missing you when you are away.” 

His pure confessions make your gut twist in an uncomfortable way. 

“Will you be okay when I am no longer here?” You whisper, letting the words spill into his ears as you hide your face in his neck. 

Zhongli stops his movements. The gentle, smooth thrusts of his hips come to a standstill as his hands lower from your thighs. He places a palm beside your head and pulls back enough that he can look at you. 

“I will never be the same without you.” The raw emotion in his features and the distinct vulnerability in his eyes cause tears to well up in your eyes. “But, I will continue to live. Your memory will keep me alive until we can be reunited again.” His gentle touch comes up to wipe at your tears as his thumbs brush over your cheeks. “I don’t want you to be worried about that just yet, okay, my gem?”

Softly, Zhongli presses his lips against yours and it muffles the sob that leaves your lips. 

You tighten the grip that you have on his biceps, digging your fingers into his skin as your lips open for his tongue. 

“I love you, I will always love you forever.” He murmurs into your cheek before kissing over your eyelids. Smoothly, his hips pick up a slow pace once more and you gasp loudly. The sound makes your husband laugh, gently shaking as he presses his forehead against your own. “If I had my way, we would have met earlier and you would never part from my side.” 

In every touch, he portrays how much he loves you. There is an ‘I love you’ in the press of his fingers against your hips. There is an ‘I love you’ in the skillful roll of your hips and there is an ‘I love you’ in the gentle kiss of his lips. 

Yes, Zhongli is sure he will always love you. Even through grief and mourning, he will never forget the feeling of loving you. 

[himegureisu]

The Howler: the Aftermath

Warning: Mentions of sex (once)

A/N: This is the second part of the Howler. I wasn't planning on making the aftermath until someone made a comment at AO3. I know I should be posting it there first but it seems that more people read on Tumblr than I thought so Tumblr will once again see it first. This isn't edited as much, and I don't know how this holds up to Part 1 but I hope you enjoy!

-------

The Great Hall was once again abuzz for breakfast.

It was a Monday.

Each muggle, witch or wizard, whether it be student or parent, in the workforce, dreaded this day. Their time to rest, recover, relax, party, pursue a love, or their interests disappear. Everyone was brought back to the reality of work and responsibilities when the weekday started.

The Faculty at Hogwarts was no different.

Thus, when their colleague and fellow professor, Severus Snape, came back from his week off to grovel to a certain lady, confidently and quite happily entered the Halls bearing a rare smile on his lips, and a shine to his overall aura.

Let’s just say they became jealous.

The students gaped in awe and whispers of ‘Who knew he could smile?’ were exchanged among them. On the other hand, a small number of their female student population softly giggled on how smiling looks well on their usually grumpy professor.

“How was your week, Severus?” Albus asked, the young wizard who was seated by his left, “Happiness suits you,”

“It was pleasant,” Severus simply said, It wasn’t just pleasant. It was amazing to spend that long of a time only the two of you against the world, “Thank you for taking my classes, Headmaster,”

“It was a fruitful endeavor I’d be glad to do from time to time,” Albus said, eyes twinkling in delight, “I trust you groveled enough?”

“Yes, I did,” he answered, And then some.

He wasn’t about to advertise what he did for you to his colleagues. Your second mini honeymoon was not up for discussion for them. They knew not to expect more answers from him but it seems that, that wouldn’t do this time.

“It was quite the long break, wasn’t it?” Minerva said, from across the headmaster, starting the inquisition, “Was she satisfied?”

“Very,”

You weren’t just very satisfied. You were lovestruck once again. In complete and utter bliss.

On the afternoon of that day, he arrived at an empty home and seized the opportunity to make you a home cooked meal for dinner. In the evening, he’d set up the bathroom in candles, rose petals, and oils for the both of you to soak in. In the night, after an intense round of makeup sex, he unpacked your boxes for you. On the morning after, he’d prepared breakfast in bed, and surprised you to reservations at a resort in Wizarding Greece for the remainder of the week.

You were spoiled absolutely rotten, and so was he. Though, he couldn’t admit that to any of them.

“Who is she?” Filius asked the most important question.

“Someone I hope to introduce to you soon,” Severus answered, “As you know, she recently moved in,”

“You kept her from us for how long?” Minerva added,

“Should you continue with this line of questioning, I might not introduce you to her at all,” Severus casually remarked, “Especially if you’ll also pester her with so many questions,”

“Now, now, there’s no need to do that,” Dumbledore chuckled,

“We’ll stop,” Filius said,

“We’re just curious, Severus,” Minerva said, “It has been a while since then,”

“I know but all your questions will be answered in due time,” he sighed, standing up, “And there will be no interrogation of the sort when it comes,”

“Where are you going?” Minerva asked, almost intercepting him,

“To the Potions Classroom, where else?” he answered, “I do have a class to teach,”

[wyervan]

@r0tting-rat & @amarynthian-fortress I hope you don’t mind each other’s company in this ask.

I also hope u don’t mind that I tried writing for this ask. Also it’s halfway through November 😆 hope your not too sick of Halloween. I know I never am 😝

It’s been a reeeeally long time since I’ve written much of anything 😳 but I wanted to try it out again and both you guys are such amazing writers and i would be totally open to your feedback and suggestions 🥺🥺

DCA Slasher AU

content warnings: general spookiness i guess lol? oh but also characters describing acts of graphic violence :D

🌞🔪🤡🪓🌜🩸 💫 👾 🌞🔪🤡🪓🌜🩸 💫 👾

The October air is refreshingly cool as you step out from your car. Looking up into the fading pale sky, you see pink cirrus clouds lining a glowing sunset. You stand there for a moment and inhale deeply, briefly in awe of the color of the light. A sudden whistling breeze rattles the branches of a balding tree, sending a flurry of yellow leaves skittering across the parking lot.

Remembering that you have somewhere to be, you turn on your heel, slamming the car door a bit too hard and startling both yourself and a crow that was sitting on a nearby fencepost. It chides you sternly for your disruption with a caw.

Ignoring the jeer, you start down the sidewalk toward downtown, joining a half a dozen others leaving the lot, all of them dressed in varying degrees of costume.

Apparently for Halloween this year, the town had sectioned off a whole six block radius of shops, restaurants, and other commercial establishments to encourage business and tourism for the holiday. Blockades prevented cars from entering the area for the evening while vendor booths and pedestrians filled the streets. Local businesses handed out goodies to the trick or treaters, usually working in some advertisement of their wares and services.

You found yourself actually excited for this Halloween in a way that you hadn’t felt since you were a child. You even dressed up! Ahh—kinda. You just pulled something from your closet and did your hair in a way that made you look like that one character from that show that you watched two seasons of three years ago.

But you had promised Sun you’d wear a costume tonight. You had left work much earlier than usual, vowing to return to the arcade now and stay late to assist with the festivities. Your outfit was quick enough to put on that you had managed to sneak in a nap before heading back out.

You pass kids in costumes. They walk and chitter to each other excitedly, yelping happily and playfully pushing each other around. A smile spreads widely across your face at the sight of their joy. Parents or scowling teen siblings follow closely behind. Now inside the blockades, booths displaying all manner of seasonally-themed crafts, foodstuffs, and trinkets line both sides of the street, people flitting from vendor to vendor. Candy bowls sit ripe for pillaging at the edge of every station.

Enjoying the sights and sounds, but not wanting to get caught up with the fair, you stick to the sidewalk. You round the last corner and across the street you see a small crowd of strange creatures gathered in front of the arcade—a cat, a wizard, two pirates, Shrek, and multiple Disney princesses.

Their attention, you see as you cross the street and finally step on to the curb in front of the arcade, is entirely focused the clown crouched in front of them. You stop behind the group of kids and the clown’s eyes raise meet yours, flick down your form, and then refocus on the little girl in front of him, all in half a second.

“Mr. Sun, we know magic isn’t real. My cousin showed me that trick and then he showed me an entire book about fake magic! It’s all slide a hand or whatever…”

The clown, dressed in pale bright yellow and burgundy stripes, shakes his mane and brandishes a card with bear and the number 4 on it to the girl (one of the pirates). His already wide grin stretches further.

“Little Captain Shelley, if magic wasn’t real, then how did I know that this is the card you actually wanted, hmm?” he says.

Shelley the Pirate opens her mouth to retort, but before she can say anything, the clown suddenly flicks his pinkie and flips the card once, twice, thrice… and then there’s a bar of chocolate grasped between his gloved fingers instead of the bear card.

The other kids give small gasps of delight. Shelley is quiet and wide-eyed for a moment before a shy smile breaks over her face and she snatches up the chocolate bar, dashing away giggling to her parents standing a few paces away. They scold her lightly for not saying “thank you” to the clown, who is now passing out candies to the remaining trick or treaters.

You look around, taking in the decor that you and your bosses sweated over just this morning. You had watched as Sun hung string lights from the eaves at painstakingly even lengths. The goofy-looking giant spider that you had wrestled with earlier sat fat and content in a gauzy net of cobweb pinned over a window. A fog machine situated in the entrance between the two sets of doors into the arcade spilt thick mist out onto the pavement.

You spy the other clown fifteen or so feet away, slumped in a fold-out lawn chair next to the arcade’s doors. His deep blue hat and pants, accented with yellow stars, stand out starkly against the ruddy red of his seat. He’s already watching you—head propped up in one hand braced against the chair arm, the other idly fishing through the bucket of sweets he has resting in his lap.

“Star light, star bright, won’t you grant me candy tonight?”

You pull your attention back down to the red and yellow clown to see that the trick or treaters have ran off to raze other pastures, leaving him alone with you. He’s looking up at you now, cheeky grin cradled in his palms... then suddenly springs from his haunches to his full height—easily six and a half feet. The bells on his wrists chime abruptly with the motion. He weaves his fingers together, palms out, and brings his arms out and over his head, spine arching with the force of a full-body stretch.

He drops his long arms and takes one stride to close the distance between you. He leans a bit to the side, hand going absently to rub at his left knee, and gives a dramatically contented sigh. “Ahh. Little monsters and princesses may come and go, but the Star always returns to the evening sky,” waxes the clown—who is your boss of course, because that’s the kind of life you lead now.

Ah. And he’s in character. More so than usual.

“Starlight, what kind of treats did you bring us?” he asks, bright blue eyes wide, chin tucked to gaze steadily down at you.

“Oh shit. I forg-“

He leans further in toward you, face suddenly less than a foot from yours, and you jump a bit. He raises a single slender finger as if giving an instruction, or about to shush you.

“Language, Star, especially when there are children in the vicinity. Anyway, it’s fine, fine, fine. We have more inside” Sun steps back and gives a dismissive wave. “Moony, could you get the two other five pound candy bags from the breakroom, pleeease?”

Moon’s head rolls lazily to give Sun a dead look, long strands of black hair spilling across the stark light side of his face.

“You can have all the licorice, red and black.” Sun states.

Apparently satisfied with this, Moon’s head lolls back to a neutral position. He sets his candy bucket on the sidewalk, gets up with a low grunt, and trudges through the fog and into the arcade. You turn, opening your mouth to ask Sun what he’d like you to do now that your here, but he’s already prancing back to his post—just in time to excitedly meet a Mario and Luigi pair.

You walk over and take up Moon’s nearly empty bucket of candy. Hmm… you wondered if Moon had been eating most of this himself, judging by the numerous empty wrappers mixed in with few yet untouched pieces of chocolate you see at the bottom of the bucket.

“Trick or treat!” Two pairs of children’s sneakers enter your vision.

You look up to see a couple of familiar faces—Gregory and Cassie, both wearing blocky helmets and body pieces made of tinfoil-covered cardboard and covered in glued-on switches, buttons, and dials. They have their arms and legs stuck through wide flexible tubing and are holding lumpy pillowcases filled with their spoils.

“Oh, hey guys. Robots—nice. How’s the haul been tonight?” you ask.

The styrofoam balls that top the antennae attached to their helms bounce in the air when they look at each other and nod their square heads.

“Pretty good. Wickson’s down the street was giving out caramel apples. Think you can top that?” Cassie says.

You glance down at the meager dregs of what was left in the candy bucket. But before you can offer up the scant pickings and apologize, Moon’s voices rasps from behind you.

“Kid, don’t you know treats aren’t for brats?” Moon’s arm brushes your shoulder as he remerges from the arcade, two bags of assorted candies clutched in one fist. He looks down on Gregory, lips pulled into a slight sneer. Gregory faces him fully and juts up his chin at a defiant angle.

“Sounds like a sore loser talking.”

“Kid, I already beat your score again this morning. Ain’t got nothing to be sore about.” The sneer turns into a smug lopsided smile, displaying a sharp canine. You have to bite your lip to keep from laughing. Moon had forgone his usual nap on the break room couch, choosing instead to stand hunched over an arcade cabinet for the entire morning upon seeing GREG in mocking neon green at the top of the high scores. His desperation was evident by eleven when he snapped at you for vacuuming too close to the power cable.

“Yeah? Well, I’ll be back in this weekend.” Gregory promises, narrowing his eyes and attempting to awkwardly cross his tube arms in front of his blocky shell. “Your scores aren’t safe.”

Moon rolls his eyes and brings the hand holding the candy bags up, releasing one into the bucket you’re holding. Unprepared for the sudden weight, you almost drop it. He grips the top of the other in both hands and splits the plastic seam. Then he offers it stiffly to Gregory and Cassie.

“Here. Before I change my mind. Pick what you want then scram. No licorice though.” The kids don’t hesitate, hands diving into the bag to fish out a Banana Laffy Taffy and an Almond Joy. Both of them crinkle their noses at the choice the other made. Cassie smiles sweetly and thanks Moon, starting back toward the vendor booths. Gregory also turns to leave but then gives Moon another narrow-eyed look. He brings two fingers up to his own eyes and then turns his hand so that his fingers jut toward Moon—the classic gesture for I’m watching you—then he waddles away, tube legs impeding his movement slightly.

You set the candy bucket down in Moon’s chair and turn to face him, hands coming to your hips.

“Kind of lazy, don’t you think, to just be wearing your work costume for Halloween?” you tease and flick the bell of his hat resting at his shoulder. Moon just shrugs and gives you a bored look. His thick dark eyebrows flick up.

“Yeah, and what are you suppose to be? Some sort of nerd businessman?”

“No! What? You don’t know? I’m that one guy from that show with all the other people who all do the thing together.”

The street light above you two suddenly flickers on. You look up at the sky. In the half hour or so since you had left your rental, it had already darkened to a bruising indigo. You look back to Moon and in the stark orangey light, you spot a dark reddish mark on the white half of his shirt that you didn’t see before. You peer closer and raise a finger to point out the stain just below the blue ruffle collar he wore around his neck. “Hey, you got something right there. Jeez, is that blood?”

You scan him over again, looking for any sign of injury but find nothing concerning on what two-toned skin you could see… but looking at him carefully revealed an even larger stain on the dark-side of his costume, deepening the charcoal color of the fabric to almost black.

Glancing back up, you see a strangely stiff expression frozen on his mouth. But Moon’s eyes are intense, slightly wide, trained carefully on you. A spark of something jumps in your stomach under his gaze. You look away and try to break the weird sudden energy with a joke. “You know you should really be more careful while you laze about on—“

“Last time I wore this, I killed someone.”

This statement, spoken flatly, makes you forget your awkwardness and look back at him again sharply, mouth slightly agape. A moment passes while you stare at him blankly… then two… then a small impish smile settles on your face.

“Yeah? Did you suffocate him with a balloon animal?”

“I hit him in the back of the skull with a heavy statue from his mantle,” Moon says in the same matter-of-fact tone. You’re slightly taken aback again, but then he continues steadily “And when he woke up, I smashed his knees with a bat so he couldn’t run away.”

“Ah, the ol’ Tonya Harding. Classic,” you deadpan.

Moon’s face suddenly dips down closer to yours. His eyes have widened further in somewhat alarming glee and a slow smile was beginning to stretch his lips. You jerk slightly at the sudden closeness but stand your ground, not wanting to be the first to give into this odd game.

“And I took a knife and peeled strips off him until he begged for me to kill him… then I stuck it in his throat… and watched him choke to death on his own blood.”

“Moony, my old friend—my partner in clown, brother of bells—“ You break away from Moon’s gaze to see Sun approaching, his hands gesturing in a whirling motion in the air. “I’m SURE what you’re blathering to them about is very important—BUT, I need to pull our shining Star away so that they may attend to the prize counter. Some children inside will certainly be wanting to exchange their hard-won tickets for treasures very soon—mhm!” He finishes with a hearty confident nod.

“Sun was there. It was his knife.” Moon breathes, close to your ear, then he leans back from his hunched position over you and you find you can finally take a full breath.

Sun’s jester shoes stop-short mid-step with a violent jingle and a harsh scrap. His gesturing halts and his expression freezes in a wide but strained smile. He hums a nervous, sort of giggly noise of confusion.

“I beg your pardon?” Sun asks through his teeth, head tilting at a sharp angle.

“Moon was just telling me about what you guys do in your free time. You didn’t tell me you guys were suppose to be dressed as the Killer Klowns from Down the Street. I don’t even see any blood on your costume, Sun.” This actually earns you a low devious chuckle from Moon, which makes you feel an embarrassing bloom of pride. Sun doesn’t seem to find it so funny.

His eyes flick to Moon, to you, to Moon, and then back to you, and then Moon again… and then again back to you. His smile doesn’t drop.

“Ah yes… well, you know how hard even fake blood can be to get out of clothes.” Sun says in a constrained, somewhat aloof tone. He’s staring at Moon again with a strangely pointed look in his eye. “Wouldn’t want to scare anybody with stains like that after the holiday, now would we? They’d think we were a couple of lunatics.”

“You guys are kind of nuts though, you know.” You state. This draws both their gazes to fix on you again. “You bought this place didn’t you? With its history and everything.” You stick a thumb back in the direction of the arcade. “Pretty crazy. But you turned it into a cool place.” A smile lights your face at a feeling of genuine appreciation for your current situation in life. Sure, your showers were mostly cold water and your car was probably gonna fall apart on the drive home, but you had a pretty cool job with two people whom you now considered to be more your friends than bosses.

“Aight, I’m gonna head inside now.” You pivot with a wave and turn away from Sun and Moon, feeling the heavy weight of their twin gazes on the back of your neck. The sky is now nearly black, cold, distant stars glinting. A gust of wind picks up and sends fog swirling around your legs as you enter the arcade. The air, pleasantly cool only an hour ago, now bites chillily at your exposed face and throat.

🌞🔪🤡🪓🌜🩸 💫 👾 🌞🔪🤡🪓🌜🩸 💫 👾

Okay that’s all folks :D This was what I was working on most of the week. I started the first paragraph and was like “this is really hard!” then skipped to halfway through to some dialogue I knew I wanted. It’s hard to find the most efficient words to describe the scene and characters.

I’m happy with it! but I feel like it might read a bit stiff? Maybe you can tell I’ve read and watched too much historical fiction. Worry sometimes I come across a bit stuffy or old fashion-sounding.

Idk idk like I said at the beginning, it’s been a very long time since I’ve written any prose. Hope you liked it~ most probably definitely will do more, it just takes a lot of time and thought.

Please leave me your thoughts~~

[gatorbites-imagines]

John Constantine x tattoo artist?? Smut or no (you choose!) I think it would be cute if john gets his tats from the reader (also kind of a possessive/marking quality there lol)

John Constantine x Tattoo artist male reader

Headcanons

Sorry there’s been no posts this week, classes have started up again, so as you can imagine I’m exhausted and have a lot less free time. I’ve been using most of my free time to read JJK, ngl.

Imagine being a magical tattoo artist, something like a seal maker. You do large complex and beautiful pieces, but you hide different seals and protection markers inside the patterns. It keeps the real purpose of the tattoo a secret, but is also pretty to look at.

John already has tattoos in the hellblazer comics, but imagine you giving him different ink. Something a lot less obvious and more attractive.

It makes him pass as a hot blonde British guy covered in a lot of fancy ink, instead of some brit with lotsa weird cult looking tattoos.

John becomes one of your most common customers, mainly because a lot of the tattoos you put on him disappear after the seals been used, since its all defense and storage. He might also use it as an excuse to see you more, so he can flirt.

John being John, would get a tattoo right above his crotch, think like a reverse tramp stamp, or a succubus tattoo, just so he can have you sitting between his thighs as he gives his flirting his all.

You definitely end up railing him within an inch of his life in the tattoo chair, tsking and “punishing” him for straining the tattooed area too much, and “messing up your work” when he writhes too much.

In the beginning its just a friends with benefits situation, something like a “happy ending” you might say. John wouldn’t be someone to do relationships for the most part, since most of the ones he’s been in haven’t ended great.

He subconsciously also wouldn’t want to paint a target on your back, since hes always involved with all kinds of stuff. But he cant help but always find himself back with you, getting some new seal inked onto his skin.

And if every visit ends up with him bent over the tattoo chair, or down on his knees to “thank you”, then who will judge him.

John would end up finally acknowledging his feelings when you save him from his big bad of the week, using your complex and intricate tattoos to pull out weapons and spells, and later seal the being that’s after him.

Its hard to deny how he feels after that, and though he wouldn’t put it into words, he would act differently. Like just showing up at your parlor to spend time with you without getting anything done, or sending you little protection charms or trinkets.

At some point you guys just start kissing and acting like a couple, without actually putting a name to it. It’s a dangerous life you both live, and words mean everything, so you never tell anybody you guys are lovers, since that would make the target on you both even bigger.

It doesn’t keep you guys from pretty much living together and acting all domestic, or being completely exclusive to just each other. John turning down all advances made on him confuses people in the beginning, until they just come to accept it.

John ends up with even more tattoos, these a lot more complex than average useable seals. These are the kinds that you have spent your entire life developing, and had only used on yourself because they’re that powerful.

The league are knocked back by how powerful his spells have become, and how much damage he can withstand. Only other magic users with the knowledge know just how amazing his tattoos are. He never tells them where he got them, just because he’s an ass.

You end up helping out more with his business, and he ends up being free advertisement for your parlor. Of course, no one gets tattoos like you or John, you would never give a possible enemy that kind of power, but it helps pad your pockets quite a lot.

John’s enemies end up targeting you as well, but they’re easily dealt with for the most part.

He ends up getting teased be friends and allies that he’s getting soft and domestic, cuz he doesn’t go out to bars like before, and wants to be home in time to watch a movie with you, or just go to sleep together.

He ends up a lot less stressed too, since you rock his world whenever he needs it, and become someone he can let down his defenses and just be vulnerable with.

In the end he probably gets pavloved to get in the mood when you tattoo him, or he hears the noise of the tattoo gun. John always blames you for making him this way, because you always go down on him after giving him new ink, not that he’s complaining.

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

Pt VIII good omens a spoiler-free trailer

*walks into church, ignoring the gasps of the congregation* *holds mic to a terrified gentleman's face*

Have you ever wondered, what if the flaming sword at the Garden of Eden was insufferably in love with the Serpent?

*doesn't wait for response, shoves mic in shaking lady's face*

What if I told you, your bible studies are incomplete, because they are missing the most important story of all?

*cut to me in front of a white screen, walking seductively toward camera in a suit*

Worry not, for your prayers have been answered. Presenting, Good Omens, a kind-of biblically accurate story by Sir Terry Pratchett and Tumblr's own @neil-gaiman, now a TV show and queerer than ever. All you AO3 slow-burn hoes, we see you. You asked for it, you got it. Childhood friends is so last millennium, we give you instead, six thousand years of mutual pining.

*hard cut to David Tennant, whom I have stuck to a chair with Elmer's glitter glue* *he struggles, in vain*

Starring David Tennant and his signature slutty walk as Crowley, now in a ginger Barbie edition that comes with demonic eyes, every hairstyle and gender you could ever dream of, and instant outfit changes. It really is a miracle!

*camera swivels to focus on Michael Sheen, who is bound in blankets and looking deeply concerned*

Starring Michael Sheen the fae shapeshifter as Aziraphale, the sweetest, most cherubic murderous bitchy angel you've ever seen. Special features include automatic heart-eyes the moment he is faced with Crowley, a charming disregard for casual massacre in the name of God, and the instant outfit changes. Watch him melt your heart before breaking it! Bonus tip: try giving him sushi!

*cut back to the white screen, I am now sitting uncomfortably close to the camera*

Follow Aziraphale and Crowley as they alternatively try to follow and thwart God's ineffable plan, managing to spectacularly fail at both tasks with a consistency that amazes as it befuddles. Featuring alcohol, a bookstore, and metaphorical and literal fire as things get a little... heated in the Bible fandom.

*crossfade to Soho, I walk along the street as the camera follows me*

If that isn't enough to convince you, presenting also, idiot lesbians giving an ancient demon love advice, sexy horsepersons of the apocalypse, an unofficial wedding combined with burning Nazis alive where the most important part is the handing over of a suitcase, and the sexiest MILF witch Agnes Nutter, a literal bombshell.

*cut to disturbing close up of Neil Gaiman's face* *he tries to step away, and is met with my camerapersons*

Watch Neil Gaiman give you hope and shatter it again repeatedly, in a show where the literal apocalypse is only the background to a forbidden idiots who are lovers-to-lovers who are idiots story that is older than Time itself. Armageddon takes a backseat as Crowley serves gender, and if you thought the Antichrist was adorable, wait till you see him in Good Omens, where his evil powers are directed towards being the cutest kid he can possibly be.

*cut back to white screen, I smile ominously while twirling a human bone*

Good Omens, at your nearest Amazon Prime, with free UST, fluff, Queen, and plenty of tears. Don't miss it!

*text rapidly rolls across screen*

[Imagery has been used for representative purposes. No David Tennant, Michael Sheen or Neil Gaiman was harmed in the process of creating this advertisement. Good Omens will have expected side-effects, including unprompted sobbing, a Pavlovian reaction to bandstands, nightingales, holy water and 'the final fifteen', heartache for the foreseeable future, and intense lust for Crowley's elusive gender. Asmi is not responsible for any consequences resulting from the advertised product. Some features have been excluded from the advertisement due to space and time constraints.]

[guiltyreverie]

Hiya

Saw that you were looking for some request to help get you out of your block (I hate when that happens) so I was wondering if we could get a Zoro x F/GN reader with the prompt "Holding your hand under the guise of not getting lost in a crowd" The swordsman isn't as touchy as Luffy but I think he'd find a way to get that physical touch.

Thanks 🌴

Hey anon, thanks dear for the request 🫶🏻 I love this idea!! It has me all 🤭 giggling and kicking my feet. Also I hope you’re satisifed with this 🤍

Crappy Love Confessions

Pairing: Zoro x gn!reader

Tags: grumpy x sunshine, established relationship, Zoro thinks he’s being slick but you got him all figured out, slight insecurity/jealousy

Warnings: none, just fluff

Writing prompt: “Holding your hand under the guise of not getting lost in a crowd”

Summary: You arrive in a new town and you end up exploring it with your boyfriend by your side

A/N: I mostly wrote this in the middle of my lectures - I hope the person behind me had a blast reading this 😭 and ngl as much as I love grumpy men, they’re lowkey so hard to write (BUT I WELCOME THE CHALLENGE)

Word count: 1.5k

Loud chatter, salesmen shouting and advertising their products filled the air, the smell of various restaurants, children running about - the tunes of a new city filled your senses and you stare around in awe; almost every time it‘s the same deal and every single time you‘re still amazed by this feeling.

Luffy‘s hand met your back and finally pushed you off the boat. “Come on, y/n.“, he was drooling and you looked at him in amusement, “I smell meat!“ - he was already gone - a chuckle escaped your lips at the antics of your captain.

“Cutie-chan“, Sanji gasped dramatically and he grabbed your hands to check if you‘re alright, “are you-„

Zoro‘s grumble interrupted him and the both of them are about to butt heads again; you‘re ready to intervene and prevent the town from getting destroyed by these two but Nami was faster.

“Don‘t you guys have things to do.“, she pointedly stared at Sanji, since he was the one that needed supplies and ingredients for the next few weeks.

Sanji is about to make a flirty remark but stops himself when he sees Nami‘s glare, she pushes him off the deck and Zoro towards your direction, then proceeds to hum around about ‚not having too much fun‘ and your cheeks flush slightly; nonetheless you grin at her and shout back “no promises.“

Zoro looks at you, or well, more like scowls at you and if you didn‘t know any better you‘d think he was mad at you.

Your head tilts slightly to the right - inaudibly asking what‘s wrong.

“It‘s nothing“, he tenses up, and you can see something is bothering him in his eyes - now you could go about this in two ways, either you pester him and force him to tell you or you respect his boundaries and let it be.

You figured he‘d eventually tell you himself once he‘s comfortable enough and let it go, instead you focus on the rumbling town in front of you and smile and start walking, you knew Zoro would follow you either way so you don‘t bother calling out to him.

The both of you check out the shops, while you grab some utilities you also check out the snack vendors, all while Zoro is right behind you following every footstep and holding your bags for you on one arm and the other empty for, probably any worst case scenario he can imagine.

When you see a sword shop out of the corner of your eyes, you smile and turn towards him: “Do you want to check it out?“

He glances at you, then at the shop, he seems to contemplate it, overthink it even; you let out a sigh and step towards the shop: “Come on“, you nudge him, “it‘s at least worth checking out.“ and nudge him into the shop.

You stand beside him, observing him fondly while he checks everything out in deep concentration and gets anything he needs; when you’re ready to check out and leave the store you notice a small dagger - perfect to replace the one that broke recently.

You test out its feeling around your grip and its secureness and smile to yourself in satisfaction - you’ll get this one.

What you fail to notice is your boyfriend staring at you in admiration - for someone so kind you were deadly when threatened - in fact it’s the reason he was so drawn to you in the first place. All you needed was two little daggers and no one stood a chance against you, your bubbly self would disappear and it would almost seem like you had been replaced with the best assassin to walk the earth.

When you glance back at him satisfied with your choice, your breath halts for a moment; the way Zoro was looking at you right now? It almost made your face flush in embarrassment, his eyes were filled with endearment, admiration and something else you can’t pinpoint right now - he always had a hard time vocalizing his feelings for you but he didn’t have to, you always knew how much he cared for you without saying anything.

You clear your throat in an attempt to dissipate the butterflies in your stomach and smile at him: “You got everything?”

He keeps staring at you mesmerized: “yeah, i got everything I need.”, your face flushes slightly and the butterflies you tried to dissipate earlier come back, he didn’t mean just his sword supplies - not with the way he was staring at you.

“Alright.”, you nod and make your way to the cash register and pay up.

Zoro is already outside, leaning against the wall, while waiting for you, when you get out he promptly gets up and walks beside you, he seems to contemplate something, you were about to ask if there’s anything else he wants to check out when grasps your hand. Your face flushes when his large calloused hand wraps around your smaller softer one and you grin brightly - the warmth inside you only growing bigger and bigger.

He looks away, his voice slightly hoarser than before: “I can’t risk getting lost.”, you raise an eyebrow in amusement, his blushing ears clearly betraying his actual thoughts.

“Sure.”, you smirk clearly unconvinced by his reasoning.

Now the both of you walk together, your hands intertwined and you hum happily looking for your next destination.

The both of you walk around more until it’s late in the evening; your feet hurt from walking around all day and you decide to finally go back to the ship.

“Zoro”, you pout, the sting getting worse and worse.

He sighs slightly then proceeds to let go of your hand before he kneels down in front of you: “Hop on.”

The warm feeling in your chest, once again, consumes you - god you love him - you get on his back and wrap your arms around him while he grabs the back of your thighs and picks you up.

Fondly you kiss his cheek: “Thanks, dear.”

He ‘hmphs’ slightly and grumbles: “you’re too light, do you even eat?”

“Y’know I always finish Sanji’s food”, you grin, “you just lift abnormal weights.”

He tenses up slightly when you mention Sanji: “Don’t mention his name.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, Sanji and him always fight but he usually didn’t react this badly at his name being mentioned; finally, it clicks in your head and you manage to connect the dots.

“Is this about this morning?”, you lean your head on his.

“I don’t like when he’s being close to you.”, he sighs.

You smile and hold him tighter: “I don’t care for him, in the same way I care for you. No amount of flirting from his side can change that.”

“It’s not that. I trust you, it’s just..”, he seems to gather his thoughts, trying to put them into words and you let him - he needs to realize just how important it is to let you in. His jaw tenses up and he clearly seems uncomfortable being vulnerable, even if it’s you he's talking to. “It just makes me think that I can never be as vocal as him; He doesn’t mind crappy love confessions or public affection.”

It takes you a few seconds to even process his words - was he insecure?

“Zoro”, you motion for him to let you go and you quickly step up before him, grasping his face, “I don’t want crappy love confessions or public affection or anything else, I want you.”

“Ok but what if me being me isn’t good enough at one point and you want to do better - you certainly can, if you want to.”, he looks at you, the uncertainty finally clear in his eyes and it pains you, leaves you wondering for how long he had been harboring such thoughts.

“No, fuck that, I don’t want better, because there is no better.”, you bite your lips slightly, “ for me? You’re the best pick, Zoro. I love you, the way you are and I want nothing more than for you to keep being yourself and it’s not going to change any time soon. You hear me?”, you hold his face once again and genuinely look at him, he needs to believe you, trust that you won’t leave him.

“I’m just being stupid, aren’t I?”, he smiles at you a little stunned.

You smile and shake your head: “No, not stupid. Human.”

He raises an eyebrow slightly at your choice of words but accepts it nonetheless. He kisses your forehead earnestly and once again kneels for you to get on his back.

You grin and hop on, hugging him tightly.

He clears his throat: “I love you, too, by the way.”, your grin brightens - and he says he isn’t the type for crappy love confessions.

Together you guys walk through the bustling town back to the ship, the warm sunset fitting the atmosphere inside your chest.

[metaliczz]

Charles Leclerc imagine

In which Charles gets jealous of how other men act towards you.

I haven't been active for the past month but I'm working on it. Things got very bad but I'm working my way through it. I've been thinking about new prompts for my writing. I might also start a book about Charles x reader. I've got a couple ideas in my mind. Anyways, enjoy :)

During the past seven days, you have been going out more because of the lack of presence of Charles. He had received tons of calls asking him to interview him, big brands wanted him for advertisements and even his own ice cream company needed some adjustments. Charles kept apologizing to you about how he wouldn't be able to be there for you as much as he used to. However, you said it was okay knowing that it hurt you inside. You hid your emotions to not make him worried and cancel all of those opportunities that had made his way to him.

You knew Charles would be back in about two days but you didn't stop going out. Almost every day you had been going to parties and events with your group of friends. As much as you hated being away from Charles, you had to admit that having fun with friends and attending events that always had a twist of actions to it was something you always liked. You liked the unpredictable and the wildness of it all.

"(Y/N), where are we going now?" Your friend asked, scrolling on an app that located nearby parties.

"Let's go wherever it's most crowded." You answered, getting ready.

"Awesome." She responded, looking at the information of the party with the most people there is.

A few knocks were heard at your front door and you quickly went downstairs to open it. As you expected, the rest of your friend group was there. You yelled of excitement and so did they all. You let them in and somehow, music started playing from your speaker.

"So, ladies, where are we going next huh?" One of your friends said.

"There's this party a couple minutes away and apparently there's gonna be a shit ton of people. I think around six hundred or something."

"SIX HUNDRED?! Girl we better run to that party as soon as possible. I need to get drunk and meet hot men."

You laughed and put your stuff away now that you were ready. You and your friends headed out to the party.

"This is AMAZING!" You exclaimed as you poured yourself another drink.

The music was loud and booming through your ears. There was a dance floor, which you took the opportunity to bust some moves. Your friends and some other men hyped you up as you kept laughing and drinking.

Once you sat back down at a table, a man came up to you. You looked at him and waited for him to speak.

"Hi." He said.

"Hey?" You answered.

"You have amazing moves, man. I haven't seen anyone like you before." He said as he sat down in front of you.

"Thanks! It's definitely the alcohol that's getting me like this." You replied as you started to laugh uncontrollably again.

"What's your name?" He asked.

"(Y/N), you?"

"Peter."

"Cool."

"Wanna get out of here?" Peter asked, waiting for you to agree.

You didn't say anything in return. A weird feeling covered your entire body. You didn't know what it was.

"Excuse me." You finally said, getting up.

You made your way to the bathroom which, luckily, was empty. You looked at yourself in the mirror and turned the cold water on. You put some cold water on the back of your neck and some on your face.

"(Y/N)! Come out!" One of your friends practically yelled.

"Okay!" You opened the door.

Your friend didn't even have time to tell you what was going on before you saw him. Charles was there, yelling at the man that had approached you a few minutes ago. You were so confused. He was gone for business purposes and now there he was.

"Charles! What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you. I cancelled an appointment because I wanted to be with you."

"How did you find me? I didn't tell you I was here."

"Your location was on." He murmured.

"What the hell is going on here?" The other man, Peter, asked.

"You talked to my girlfriend, that's what's going on here." Charles answered, his voice loud and sharp.

"Okay, now. Let's get out of here." You said and grabbed Charles' arm, pulling him away.

"You're too drunk (Y/N). Let me take care of you." Charles said, his voice softening. He picked you up and took you to his car. He carefully put you in it and drove you to his place.

When you got to his place, Charles took your heels off for you and placed you in his bed. He changed you into his clothes and took the rest of your makeup off. A few hours later, you got more sober.

"Charles..."

"It's okay chérie." (darling)

"I barely remember anything of what happened."

"There was this guy that approached you."

"Right."

"I don't like how other men look at you. I hate it. You're so beautiful." Charles said, getting next to you in his bed and pulling you closer to him.

Your head was in his chest. His hand on the back of your head and the other one around your waist. You wrapped your arms around his back, it being too big for your arms to wrap around fully around it.

Charles kept giving you small kisses on your head and on your face. You closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling. His kisses trailed down to your neck and then back up to your face again. He played with your hair as he kept telling you how much he loved you and how he was sorry he wasn't there for you this week. He said he was sorry for letting that other man approach you at the party. He told you he was sorry about everything, then made sure to kiss you multiple times again. Charles was obsessed with you. He always needed you by his side. You were his reason to keep going and never give up on life.

[moodymelanist]

once bitten (and twice shy)

Merry Christmas, @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk! Tis I, your Secret Santa! I really hope you enjoy this fic and I'm hoping to try and post all of it this week to not keep you waiting too long... but in the meantime, enjoy the first part of this 5+1 that I've been toying around with! 🩷

thank you so much to @acotargiftexchange for putting this amazing event together! I can't wait to see what else is in store this week 🫶🏽🫶🏽

Summary: When Nesta, Emerie, and Gwyn take a Christmas vacation, Nesta gets far more than she bargained for with the hot guy staying next door.

(Or 5 times Nesta didn't have time for Cassian, plus 1 time she finally did)

Read on AO3 here!

✷✷✷✷✷ Nesta

1.

When Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie had planned their girls’ trip, Nesta hadn’t exactly known what to expect. Sure, she’d assumed this sleepy, holiday town would look like something out of a winter wonderland, but as Nesta took in the sights, even a Grinch like her was forced to admit her expectations had been exceeded.

“Oh, wow,” Gwyn breathed as they came around the corner to reveal their Airbnb. It was a gorgeous house, fully decked out for the holidays with twinkling lights and a snowman out front to boot, and even Nesta had to admit it looked like something out of a Hallmark movie. The house was two stories and decked out with Christmas decor, from lights wrapped perfectly around the frame and candles glowing in each window. “It’s even prettier than the photos.”

“You sure know how to pick them,” Emerie agreed from the driver’s seat. She carefully pulled into the driveway before putting the car in park, and the three of them took one last moment to enjoy the warmth before they braved the cold December air. “Okay, let’s make this as painless as possible.”

Gwyn went to unlock the front door while Nesta and Emerie grabbed as many bags as they could carry. Thankfully, they weren’t in the cold long, and the house was just as beautiful on the inside as it was out. There were plenty of comfortable couches, picturesque sitting areas, and most importantly, three beds just as advertised. They’d paid a little more so everyone at least had their own queen-sized bed, and Nesta and Emerie would share a bedroom while Gwyn had the primary suite, given how close it was to her birthday.

“Woah,” Nesta said as she walked inside. The owners clearly hadn’t limiting their decorations to the outdoors; there was a giant, fully decked out Christmas tree in the living room, garland wrapped around the bannister on the stairs leading upstairs, and red and white stockings hanging above the fireplace.

“Woah is right,” Emerie agreed as she followed Nesta inside. “This looks like it should be in a magazine.”

“I know,” Gwyn replied, coming downstairs to help them continue unloading. “I’m a little obsessed with it.”

“Only a little?” Nesta asked, nodding at Gwyn’s ugly Christmas sweater. Today’s option was a navy sweater complete with a pattern of her cat’s face on it, and Gwyn clearly had no shame. 

“I am not ashamed of my love of the holidays,” Gwyn told her primly, “or my cat.”

“Maybe you should be,” Nesta fired back, teasing. 

“Just for that, I’m pulling my birthday card,” Gwyn announced, already turning and retreating back upstairs to her room. “Have fun unloading the rest of the car!”

Nesta met Emerie’s eyes and they shared a fond eye roll. “How much is even left?”

“You could probably do it in one trip,” Emerie answered, already backing away with her own bags in hand. “I’m gonna go… unpack my own bags.”

“So much for sisterhood!” Nesta called after Emerie’s retreating back, earning nothing but a loud laugh in return. 

It won’t even be that bad, Nesta told herself as she made sure her coat was zipped all the way up. I’ll do this in one trip if it kills me.

Nesta braved the winter air once again and made her way back to the rental car, breathing a sigh in relief when she realized she could almost certainly make it back to the house in one trip. It might take a little finagling, but it would certainly be doable. She squared her shoulders and started laying out the remaining bags, and she was about to start loading up when a voice broke her concentration. 

“You need any help with that?”

Nesta turned to see one of the most attractive men she’d ever seen in her life standing on the neighboring house’s porch with a playful look on his face. He was wearing a thick, dark green jacket, black jeans, and heavy winter boots, and she could tell he was built even through the multiple layers of clothes he had on. 

“Do I look like I need help?” she eventually said once she’d managed to find her voice. Despite how hot this guy was, she wasn’t going to fall all over herself for him.

“That sounds like a loaded question,” he said back with a lopsided grin, taking a sip of what looked like either coffee or hot chocolate. His eyes looked incredibly green because of his jacket, and they twinkled with his easy smile. “I’m going to go with no.”

“Then why are you offering?” she asked.

He laughed, and damn if that didn’t make her feel things. “Just because you don’t look like you need help doesn’t mean you don’t need it.”

“Even if I needed help, why would I accept it from a stranger?” she fired back.

“I’m Cassian,” Cassian said, and then pointed at the house behind him. “My friends and I are staying here for the week. I heard you guys pull up and thought I’d be… neighborly.”

“You wanted to be neighborly, but you’re standing there with your hands full of hot chocolate,” Nesta said back with a roll of her eyes. “Right. Makes perfect sense.”

“Who says I can’t finish my mug and then offer my services?” he retorted, raising said mug in her direction before he took another sip. 

“And what services would those be?” she replied. 

“I’m a physical therapist,” he told her, his grin turning downright sinful. “I’m good with my hands, and you seem pretty… tense.”

Nesta resolutely ignored the way heat was pooling between her thighs at the thought of how good those hands could feel on her. She was Nesta Archeron, Esq. Even if she met someone that managed to hold her interest for longer than a few minutes — without pissing her off, of course — she didn’t have time for relationships, or for flings, or even for removing tension. Her last boyfriend certainly hadn’t been worth the effort she’d put into their relationship, and even if he hadn’t cheated, she still regretted bringing him to one of her firm’s events. He just couldn’t keep up with her; who could?

So Nesta buried her head in her work instead. She still made time for her family and friends, of course — she was on this trip with Gwyn and Emerie, and she’d see Feyre and Elain once she got back — but her degrees weren’t going to up and leave her if they got bored. Her billable hours might not always be exciting, but at least they were consistent. 

“I’m sure you are,” Nesta eventually replied, making sure to keep her voice as bland and disinterested as possible. Judging by the downright gleeful expression on Cassian’s face, she hadn’t exactly been successful, but whatever. It wasn’t like she’d be spending her entire vacation with him. “Thanks for the offer, but I’ve got it.”

“Never doubted that you did,” Cassian said. “But I’ll be here all week if you change your mind.”

She rolled her eyes as she began to finally load up on the bags she’d came out here for in the first place. “I won’t.”

“Who was that?” Gwyn asked when Nesta finally returned inside. She must have been watching from one of the large windows overlooking the porch, and Nesta sighed as whatever thoughts she’d had about keeping that interaction to herself went up in smoke. “You were talking to him for a while.”

“Cassian is staying in the house next door with some of his friends,” Nesta answered. “He said he wanted to be… neighborly. Help me with the bags or whatever.”

“Uh huh,” Gwyn replied with a knowing look. “Is that all he offered?”

“He said he’s a PT, and that I looked tense,” Nesta told her with a roll of her eyes. “Like he’s one to judge. He doesn’t even know me.”

“I can feel you grinding your teeth from here,” Gwyn fired back. “Trust me, you don’t need to be an expert to see you need a break.”

“Which is exactly why we’re here, isn’t it?” Nesta retorted without missing a beat. “Besides, I’d much rather relax with my friends than have my time wasted yet again.”

Nesta was thankfully saved by the bell — literally, as someone was ringing the doorbell to their Airbnb. Nesta and Gwyn exchanged glances before silently deciding to see who was at the door, the two of them looking through the frosted glass to see three people waiting for them on the other side. Cassian’s green coat was clearly visible, and the two others with him must have been the friends he’d mentioned during his conversation with Nesta. 

“Nesta, what the fuck,” Gwyn hissed under her breath. She turned to look at Nesta incredulously. “You didn’t tell me his friends were hot.”

“Who has hot friends?” Emerie asked, finally coming back downstairs at the commotion. 

“Nesta talked to one of our neighbors for the week,” Gwyn answered, “and failed to tell me how hot everyone in that house apparently is!”

“Okay, well let’s not be weird,” Emerie replied slowly, clearly still processing what Gwyn had just shared. “Everybody keep their cool, okay?”

“I’m perfectly cool,” Nesta responded with a roll of her eyes. “And for the record, I didn’t say anything because I only saw Cassian.”

“I’ll bet you did,” Gwyn muttered under her breath, pulling a snicker from Emerie and a scowl from Nesta. “Okay, okay, everyone stay calm. I’m gonna open the door now.”

Gwyn opened the door to reveal Cassian and his two friends — one a blonde woman who was around Nesta’s height, and the other a man who looked so similar to Cassian they could’ve been brothers. The blonde woman lit up at the sight of Emerie, Gwyn, and Nesta , and even Nesta had to admit she was a little underprepared for how much more gorgeous she was with a smile like that on her face. She looked like something out of a winter magazine with her pristine, all-white skiing outfit that somehow managed to show off her curves despite the thick layers of insulation. “Hi neighbors!”

“Hi,” Gwyn replied, her eyes barely resting on the blonde before she openly started ogling her taller, broodier friend. He was dressed in a black peacoat, jeans so dark they nearly looked black, and similar snowboots to Cassian. “How can we help you?”

“Not to be totally weird,” the woman began, her smile turning a little self-deprecating, “but Cassian said you guys were staying here for the week too?” 

“Yup, Nesta mentioned that,” Emerie answered, completely ignoring the daggers Nesta was shooting at the back of her head. “We’re here until Friday. I’m Emerie, by the way.”

“I’m Mor, and this is Azriel,” Mor replied, jerking her head toward Tall, Dark, and Brooding. “Sounds like you already met Cassian.”

“Unfortunately,” Nesta grumbled, extremely unamused when Cassian just grinned like a maniac. What was wrong with him? Most men ran for the hills when she showed them this level of disinterest, but it seemed like that only got him going even more. “You’re very… forward.”

“That’s what they say about me,” Cassian said. “Very forward, and very down to take you to dinner later.”

“Jesus Christ, keep it in your pants,” Mor interjected with a roll of her eyes. Nesta was torn between thanking Mor and wishing she’d given Nesta the chance to verbally eviscerate Cassian, but Nesta got the sense he’d enjoy that, too, so maybe it was for the best that Mor had intervened. “You goddamn frat bro. I’m not trying to scare them off.”

“We are both bisexual, Morrigan,” Cassian quipped back without missing a beat. “I can’t be a frat bro, it violates the rules of nature.”

“Since we’re sharing, I’m straight, Nesta’s bisexual, and Emerie’s lesbian,” Gwyn chimed in with a knowing little smirk. “In case it’s… mhmm, relevant or anything.”

“Very relevant,” Mor said, suddenly looking very much like she wanted to eat Emerie alive. She started playing with the zipper on her jacket just enough to be enticing, and even Nesta had to look away before she got sucked in. “What would you say to coming over for dinner tomorrow? We’d love to have you over once you’re settled in.”

“I’m a great chef,” Cassian added, winking at Nesta. “Azriel isn’t a half bad bartender, either.”

“I do love cocktails,” Gwyn mused. 

“I could whip up a few things,” Azriel replied, his voice low and deep. “Hope you don’t mind being my taste tester.”

Nesta could feel the moment Gwyn fell — hook, line, and sinker — and had to refrain from releasing a heavy sigh. So much for a girls trip. “That definitely won’t be a problem.”

“So it’s a date, then?” Mor prompted, her eyes lingering on Emerie for a few moments before she turned to look at Nesta expectantly. “Assuming we haven’t already scared you off.”

It felt like everyone was looking at Nesta, as though they’d all mutually decided she was the holdout, and the worst part was they weren’t even wrong. Mor clearly had eyes for Emerie — eyes that were certainly being returned, given how much lower Mor’s zipper had fallen in the last minute or so — and Azriel and Gwyn were locked in some kind of flirtatious staring contest so intense Nesta didn’t even want to look at them. All that left was Cassian eyeing Nesta up like she was a particularly difficult challenge, and the only reason she didn’t visibly bristle was the fact that she could just tell how much he’d enjoy it. 

“Well?” Gwyn said. When Nesta didn’t say anything, she whirled around to look at Nesta with murder in her teal eyes. “What do you say, ladies?”

“I guess we have dinner plans tomorrow,” Nesta said back, somehow managing not to sound too put out about it. 

“Great!” Mor chirped. She reached into her pocket and somehow managed to extricate her phone, unlocking it with a flourish before passing it over to Emerie. “Can I have your number? So we can sort out all the details?”

“Of course,” Emerie replied. She blushed as Mor passed her the phone, and Nesta had to work to suppress her groan as she realized this trip would be anything but relaxing. “Can’t wait.”

“Me either,” Mor told her with a wink. Emerie’s cheeks went pinker the longer Mor stared at her, a fact that clearly delighted her, but Nesta not-so-subtly coughed and forced the conversation to get back on track. “Okay, we’re gonna stop letting all your hot air out. See you ladies tomorrow!”

“Okay, Gwyn was right,” Emerie said the second the door was closed. “Nesta, you could’ve warned us.”

tag list: @perseusannabeth | @bookstantrash | @fieldofdaisiies | @goddess-aelin | @c-e-d-dreamer | @talkfantasytome | @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk | @sv0430 | @talibunny30 | @unlikelypersonalknight1 | @champanheandluxxury | @lilah-asteria | @burningsnowleopard | @sayosdreams | @readskk | @simpingfornestaarcheron | @bellaful08 | @readergalaxy | @podemechamardek | @pearlfortears | @nerdperson524 | @jmoonjones | @kale-theteaqueen | @autumnbabylon | @hiimheresworld | @illyrianshadowhunter | @dustjacketmusings | @live-the-fangirl-life | @that-little-red-head | @sweet-pea1 | @brieq | @queercontrarian | @jsmelodies | @afflicted-with-wanderlust

[armpirate]

RED || Jungkook | Ch. 1

MASTERLIST Previous ||  Next

Pairings: Demon!Jungkook x fem!reader  

Genre: smut, angst, fluff, fantasy, past life

Warnings: Explicit language, mention of death and suicide, demonology, violence, rough sex

Summary: Y/n thought her life couldn't get worse after losing her parents in a tragic accident. Years after, she's aware of everyone moving forward, while she's in the same place, isolated and alone. She struggles to find meaning in a world that seems indifferent to her grief. Desperate for comfort, to feel the deep connection she had been missing, she starts the manifestation, expecting an inoffensive entity to walk with her that rough path. What she doesn't know is that she awoke the mysterious entity tied to an old necklace around her neck.

Jungkook, a mysterious and seductive figure, appears in her life, offering the company she craves. But as his presence grows stronger, so does the unsettling sense that there's more to him -and the necklace- than meets the eye, unfolding all the reasons that took him to that place.

Now, as the past bleeds into the present, Y/n must fight with her growing feelings for the demon who seems familiar yet dangerous. Jungkook is determined to reclaim his power, but in doing so, he may doom Y/n once again. Bound by fate, the two are locked in a dangerous mix of love, redemption, and the looming threat of destruction. 

Will they break the curse that has haunted them both, or will history repeat itself with devastating consequences?

Chapter duration: 11 minutes

When she first came across a video about manifestation through subliminal audios, she was skeptical. More like skeptical, she quite laughed at the idea of people actually believing someone could get something out of that. It was similar to making a wish to a shooting star, with the only difference being that watching those videos made her feel like an idiot.

At first, those videos showed up as advertisements of other videos claiming to know how to attract positive energies, or how you could get whatever you wanted with manifestations. Slowly, they evolved into more specific videos on how the Law of Attraction worked and thousands of videos with that same theme. She wasn't a believer, she certainly didn't think a video on social media could help her overcome her struggles, yet she still believed in those small signs. As if the universe was trying to communicate with her somehow. She still chose to go on with life, hopeful she was just getting crazier.

But after she found herself alone at home, bored on a Saturday night after coming back from work, while her only friends were hanging out with their own friends, suddenly those videos didn't sound as stupid and pathetic as she thought.

She went from one video to the other, too bored to continue, but too intrigued in finding out whether they worked or not to give up. One of her hands sneaked under the blanket, finding a warm place when she pressed her thighs around it, so she could escape the cold in her apartment.

Suddenly, while moving from one video to the other, those videos started turning into "magical entities", things that weren't abstract. Those apparently powerful entities were tangible, with personalities and thoughts, with amazing abilities. And, most importantly, that would wish only good things for those who manifested them.

At first, she ignored it. She didn't have the energy to think of herself playing the Bloody Mary game at such a big age, but then she thought of how she had nothing else to lose. She was already bored. If it didn't work out, she'd have found entertainment for the night. If it did work out, life would probably start looking at her differently.

She had nothing to lose, at that point. The only results would be either non-existent or positive.

With a sigh, she moved in her bed, dragging her body to the middle, legs crossed and hands still holding her phone, earphones on and eyes focused on the screen. Nervously, she played with the necklace around her neck, looking for some reassurance there, before she started speaking.

Her eyes closed, one hand holding her phone, the other hand still playing nervously with the pendant of her necklace.

—By the thread of time, I call to you —she repeated softly, barely audible in a whisper. Her tone was shy, as if someone was hearing her despite living alone—. In silence, I call. In darkness, I find you —one of her eyes opened, trying to check whether something was changing in her surroundings—. From the shadows of what was, come forth into the light of now? Bound by love, freed by pain. Answer me —another sigh, another movement of her head showing off her disappointment—. If someone is there, come to me, please, fill this void.

When saying those last words, her voice cracked, and her eyes watered at the possibility of calling out for her parents. She went quickly from trying to call out that entity to demand her parents to be there with her, right when she needed them.

She dropped her phone, holding onto the necklace that one belonged to her mother, while looking around in the darkness.

—I'll do whatever it takes —her voice was shaky while pronouncing those words—, I don't care about the price, I don't care about the consequences. Please, I need you.

For a brief moment during that chant, she felt something in the air changing. Like the temperature dropping or the hint of an indecipherable whisper falling on her ear... yet she realized it was all coming from her own desperation and not reality.

There was no movement in her apartment, no hints that whatever she did worked. Her tongue moved through her lips, stopping at the corner with an annoyed expression, dropping her head to the front while her hands fell over her lap.

It was the dumbest and most pathetic thing she had ever done in her twenty four years alive. And which made it worse was how hopeful she felt on it working out.

The reverse of her hand moved with anger over her cheekbones, wiping out the tears that kept rolling down. Minutes later, she looked like she hadn't been crying, she looked like she hadn't been hoping for a miracle, plugging her phone and turning the lamp off, so she could lie on the bed on her back again, wrapped on the thick blankets.

Her fingers fidgeted on her belly under the covers, eyes stuck on the ceiling above her, while she kept thinking she didn't do things right. She felt uneasy, unable to get some peaceful sleep before she insisted again.

—Psst —she called out—. Don't take too long to give signs. If you're there, show up with the same desperation I called on you.

She tried, even if it was something that gave her no results.

Y/n found herself standing in the middle of an empty street, her heart pounding in her chest. The world around her seemed old -ancient, even-, but not the European type of old. The characteristics of that street had Asian features, pretty remarkable.

The street was eerily quiet, deserted, and bathed in a redish fog that clung to everything. The uneven stone path beneath her feet was cold, and the sound of her own footsteps echoed unnaturally, amplifying the growing tension inside her. She felt the weight of something unseen pressing down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.

The wind was still, and yet there was a gnawing feeling that something was watching her, just out of sight. Each shadow seemed to stretch and bend as if alive, threatening to swallow her whole. Every step she took forward only heightened her anxiety, the oppressive silence ringing in her ears.

The cold air had her hugging herself almost instantly, making her even more confused at the fact that she was still wearing the tank top and shorts she used as her pajamas.

Suddenly, something came at her like a wave, making it difficult to breathe, going from holding her own arms to grabbing her throat as if that gesture would make the air come through more easily.

Her breath came shallow, and in a desperate attempt to escape the suffocating emptiness of the street, she darted into one of the old wooden houses nearby. The door creaked as it swung shut behind her, enclosing her in complete darkness. Inside, it was still, but different -no longer the silent, oppressive void outside. Inside, there was a strange, almost magnetic pull that tugged her forward, guiding her down a dimly lit corridor.

The door clicking behind her echoed the room, making her aware of how big the place was despite not being able to see anything at all. Scared of the dark, she tried to open the door again, but it kept resisting her strength.

As if that action was the only thing she needed to get it all started, some claps stole her attention, freezing her move. With every lamp that was being lit in the corridor, a new clap made all the hairs in her body raise, getting pointier with each loud sound.

It kept getting narrower the further it was from her, and the weak light coming from the curved lamps barely gave her any chance to see properly. Her mind kept telling her to try to open the main door and escape, but her body didn't respond to her own begs. Her feet started moving, slowly but steadily towards the new door away from her, as if there was something else controlling her moves better than she did.

Her steps felt heavy, almost as if her body was being dragged by an external force to the dark red door at the end of the corridor. It was hypnotic, attracting, almost like seeing a distant star in a black sky.

The light grew stronger as she moved, illuminating a single room. Just like the street, with dark tones of red that ended up being pleasing to her sight.

She stepped inside, her heart hammering louder now, the air thick with something she couldn't name. As soon as she crossed the door, the lights went off again. Her eyes were squinted as she tried to see something through the darkness when she found herself trapped again in a different space. But, that time, she didn't attempt to get out, she didn't turn, not a single hair in her body moved. There was a growing sensation that there was something inside she wanted to find.

A sonorous breeze collided with her ears and her body instantly reacted to the sensation. Her skin was burning, her core throbbed with eagerness. There was an urging suffocating need that started to build up and that she couldn't make disappear when pressing her thighs together -it only grew bigger with every slight rub.

Somewhere among the silence, she heard a male chuckle, deep and dark, but so attracting that it almost caused her to moan out loud. Her brain overthought when that laugh got in her system, and her stomach felt funny instantly.

The room lit up, but not completely. For minutes, there was a flicker of light coming and going in different corners of the room, quickly moving in front of her. With every new move, she discovered a new detail of the room that was hidden to her with that darkness, finally allowing her to see what was being kept from her eyesight.

A few centimeters ahead of her, there was a black leather headboard that shined under the light, completely disappearing as the focus kept moving. It lowered down, allowing her to see the burgundy sheets falling over the edge of the bed, heading to its corner and moving back to the center, where she was able to see a pair of athletic thighs, covered with some black slacks, manspreading with a hand falling lazily in the center. She tried to pay attention to the tattoos on the reverse and his fingers, but the light moved before she was able to. It w bent back to the opposite side of the headboard, moving to the right steadily. His eyes were black and fierce, as if he knew he'd be able to do whatever he wanted to her. There wasn't a glimpse of good intentions on the looks he was giving her.

The way he already had his eyes on her, and how he even moved them lower over her body, made Y/n aware that, unlike her, he was indeed able to see her across the darkness. Y/n thought she'd be able to reach the climax merely with the way he was looking at her.

To him, she was his prey, cornered and trapped, and he was the beast ready to jump at her.

The corners of his doe eyes wrinkled for a second, as if he finally thought what he was going to do to her.

Y/n's pulse quickened as she stood frozen, unsure if she should move toward him or run. Each flicker of light illuminated just enough to make her breath catch in her throat, but not enough to see him fully. His figure seemed almost unreal, like a phantom on the edge of her consciousness, tethered to the shadows. Then, just as suddenly as the dream had begun, the light vanished, plunging her back into darkness. The only light in the room disappeared, leaving her lost, momentarily blind.

She was hopeful the light would shine again and would fall on him, that was why her eyes didn't move a centimeter from where she last saw his eyes. But when the light came back, starting to move over the spot where he was sitting, there was no one else anymore. The sheets looked messy, and they had the subtle shape of his lower body, confirming her he was indeed there in front of her and it wasn't made up.

It felt disappointing for her. Because it was all getting started, and the moment she was calming herself down to speak, encouraging herself to make a sound, he vanished without saying a word.

Her body squirmed involuntarily when a warm touch over the side of her tank top, feeling a palm almost cover her ribs.

His breathing was calm, slow, relaxing and warm when falling in her ear, feeling like an enchant that took over her body easily. Her neck fell to the side, and her eyes closed, handing him all the power he wanted to have over her.

—Were you looking for me? —never a voice had sounded so sensual and melodic, yet so deep and masculine at the same time.

The way his warm breathing coated her right ear, while his voice hypnotized her out of her control made her nipples harden under the thin white fabric.

She hadn't seen his face completely, she didn't know his intentions, and she for sure was in a dangerous place, but she was ready to do whatever he asked her to.

His hand expanded to her belly, with his pinky finger ghosting over the elastic of her shorts. He still didn't stop, but his touch was gentle on her, venturing himself lower while giving her time to mentalize what was going to happen, caressing her body as if he had touched it many times before. His finger played with the edge of her shorts, digging lower and directly moving through her underwear. He didn't ask for permission, he didn't need to. It was as if her consent had been agreed beforehand, long before she showed up there, lost in danger.

Her lip was trapped under her teeth when his mouth moved over her sensitive skin, looking for that same reaction he got from her.

—Then you already found me.

His body pressed against her back, while his hand dud lower, digging his fingers to reach her clit.

—Who are you?

But he didn't answer, he twirled his digits around her bundle of nerves, leaving her with a loud gasp escaping her mouth, and that transferred to reality.

She woke up instantly, in the middle of a heavy breath that forced her to sit on the bed. Her heart was pounding against her chest, aiming to break her rib cage while her whole body was craving a touch that wasn't even real, a touch in her dream so vivid that she was sure she'd feel for days.

Y/n looked around in her studio, confused at being there for a few seconds, trying to understand that everything that happened was just a dream. Despite being home, she still had the feeling of being somewhere else just seconds ago. As if she had been able to teleport without knowing it.

That dream felt way too vivid and real to only be part of her imagination.

[interstellarflare]

Don’t Blame Me || Homelander

-PART TWO-

Warnings: Gore, violence, course language, angst, mature themes, 18+.

Summary: After several long and uneventful months since John’s abrupt departure, Vought’s plan to present the Cerberus project to the public as a superhuman taskforce roughly forces you back into working with The Boys. This time, things will be more difficult as new threats arise, and former friends turn against each other. And all for what? Love makes people crazy, and John will stop at nothing to protect you.

Authors Note: SEQUEL SERIES TO BEND AND BREAK. Here it is! The long awaited sequel to Bend and Break. I am so excited to be writing this, I have so many surprises in store that you guys simply aren’t ready for. If time permits with university starting back up again, I plan for this series to be a little longer than its predecessor. Unfortunately the update schedule will remain the same as I will be very busy, but any spare minute I have will be dedicated to getting this series out there. So please enjoy Don’t Blame Me. A tag list is currently open for anyone wishing to be notified for future parts. Gif by @energyending

|PART ONE|

Ever since Stan Edger had come into power, Vought had prospered.

Everywhere you looked throughout the city, there was always some form of advertisement that played on the amazing power of The Seven, and the heroic sacrifice Stormfront and The Deep had made in order to ‘protect the people’.

It made you sick.

Memories from that night haunted you day and night, when they had come to your apartment to kill you. You could still feel the phantom splinters of wood in your skin, your body aching at the memory of Stormfront throwing you into the cabinets. You swore that even after a year, you still had those bruises. Taking a deep breath, you tried to calm your racing heart, and the feeling of panic that began to settle in the pit of your stomach. The noise of the city began to blend together in a chorus of people shouting, cars honking, and tyres screeching.

You closed your eyes briefly, being pushed along by the crowds of people as you tried to calm yourself down. Your hands began to shake, your chest began to tighten. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, and your eyes began to sting with tears. You were growing angry and frustrated with yourself, pushing your way through the waves of people before finding yourself in a small dirty alley. You made a beeline for one of the dumpsters, crouching down behind it as you allowed yourself a moment of silence to calm down. All the noise of the city seemed so distant now as you focused on trying to calm yourself down, breathing through that sick feeling as it threatened to spill over.

You swallowed the bile in your throat, the last thing you wanted to do was vomit in some disgusting alley. The mere thought of someone seeing you like this filled you with an overwhelming sense of embarrassment. As you slowly began to calm down, you lifted your gaze upward towards the sky, and released a long sigh as you watched the small patch of open sky that protruded through the buildings around you. Covered by a thick layer of grey clouds, you could feel a few small drops of rain settle on your cheeks.

A smile formed on your lips, a tired sob escaping you as you allowed yourself to lean back against the alley wall with your body relaxing completely. You brought your knees to your chest and closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling of the raindrops against your skin. As it began to rain harder your smile only widened, but you couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of sadness replace your previous panicked state. The source of this sadness had been playing on your mind since…since John left.

An overwhelming sense of loneliness settled on your chest, another sob escaping you as you allowed yourself this moment of vulnerability. You missed him so much, you needed him, now more than anything. But you couldn’t…you just…couldn’t. He left to protect you, but you felt as if everything was falling apart, more than it already was.

A shadow suddenly appeared over your closed vision, the feeling of the raindrops on your face disappearing. Opening your eyes abruptly, you had to blink in order to see through the blurring of tears, but once your vision cleared, your eyes widened as a grateful smile formed on your lips.

Noir stood before you, staring down at your huddled frame with an umbrella in hand extended over you as he shielded you from the rain. His head tilted sideways as he seemingly looked you over, examining you for any signs of harm, his spare hand clenching into a fist by his side. You grinned at his stance, a small chuckle leaving you as you fixed your position and ended up crossing your legs.

“How did you find me?” you asked softly, giving him a small, embarrassed smile. In typical Noir fashion he remained silent, but there was something about his body language that told you everything you needed to know. You sighed, pressing your lips into a thin line “Okay, different question. How long have you been following me?” You spoke calmly, wiping your eyes and staring up at the Super before you questioningly. Noir’s shoulder’s slumped, his head falling slightly as his head moved back into an upright position. You nodded slowly, the answer coming to you from his silence.

“A while huh?” You mumbled, sniffling lightly as you slowly moved to get up off the alley floor. Once stood to your feet, you brushed off your pants and groaned at the dust and dirt that fell off her clothes. As it began to rain harder, Noir extended the umbrella towards you, wiggling his hand slightly in gesture. You laughed, taking the umbrella from him with a grateful nod before looking him over.

“You know, you’ve only ever spoken to me once. I miss your voice you know, there’s no one around-“

“Oh I know, I’m just used to being quiet”.

You gave him a playful glare, sticking out your tongue and laughing softly. The Supe chuckled, shaking his head as he moved to stand under the umbrella with you. You stared into his eyes through his helmet, releasing a short sight. “It’s good to see you, Noir.”

“You too…” he spoke kindly, gesturing towards you with his hand, “…how long has this been going on?”

“It’s nothing to worry about-“

“Don’t be stupid, Y/n. How long-“

“I’m fine, really…” you tried to deflect, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly with an exasperated huff  “…really. I just need to work some things out.”

You knew that Noir didn’t believe a word you said, the way his head tilted slightly confirmed your suspicions. But he didn’t question you as you watched his shoulders tense up once again. Just when you thought that the topic had been dismissed, you heard Noir sigh heavily.

“He listens to you, you know”.

Your eyes widened, and your heart began to beat faster. You looked up at the Supe with confused expression, taken aback by his sudden admission.

“…He…he what?”

Noir stepped closer to you, only mere inches away as he spoke softly, “Homelander. He didn’t want me to tell you, and he’s probably listening to us now, but I don’t give a shit. He misses you, a lot.” Your eyes stung with tears once more, but you quickly wiped them away with your free hand. Your heart swelled and your mind raced as you released a shaky breath. “What do you mean he listens?”

“I mean exactly that. He listens to make sure you’re okay, making sure that Stan keeps his promise. If you ever need him, all you have to do is call, and he’ll be there”.

You felt you heart swell as you nodded slightly, releasing a short sigh. The two of you stood in a comfortable silence for a while, until your phone began to ring in your jacket pocket. You groaned, Noir chuckling as you grabbed your phone, and frowned at the number displayed on the screen. You didn’t recognise it, but a strange feeling urged you to answer the call.

Pressing the phone to your ear, you spoke softly. “Hello?”

“Hello. Am I speaking with Y/n Ln?”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, “It is…sorry, who am I speaking to?”

“Sorry, this is Mr. Lautner. I am the principal here at Max’s school and I was wondering if I could talk to you about your nephew?”

Your eyes widened, your gaze flickering to the Supe beside you as he tilted his head to the side in confusion. “Oh um, sure. Did something happen?-“

“There’s been an incident at the school, and we need you to come in. I understand if you can’t, but we’ve already tried contacting both parents and neither of them have answered their phones. We don’t usually do this, but you are the only other adult we could contact, and Max asked for you.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat and but your lip. Anger and frustration bubbled inside you, not at your nephew, but at his parents. Your brother, Michael, should have been available. Since the divorce had been put through, he had a lot of free time lately. And his ex-wife Laura, who knows. But surely, she would take time off work to help her son, right?

You nodded, though the principal couldn’t see you and sighed. “Yeah, I’ll be there in half an hour.”

“Thank you, Miss L/n. We’ll see you soon.”

After ending the call, you clenched your jaw as you gave Noir a thin smile. “I have to go…it was good seeing you.”

The Supe nodded wordlessly, though you knew that behind that mask, he was giving you a kind and knowing smile. You tried gave him back the umbrella, which the Supe declined and gestured for you to keep it. With a small laugh and a roll of your eyes, you waved goodbye to the Supe and left the alley, re-joining the crowds of the busy city as you made your way towards Max’s school.

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