#but he collected his thoughts and got it all out there

[himbodruid]

Ancient Instinct

Sylus x Reader

-:-breeding kink -:- Sylus loses control -:- consent king -:- primal, carnal, frenzied -:-

Present timeline mirror to A Dragon in Rut

INTENDED FOR 18+ READERS. MINORS DNI.

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“Hey…there’s something wrong with the boss.” Kieran’s voice was filled with concern, enough that you knew it wasn’t some weird ploy by Sylus to get you to visit. Plus, Luke was usually the one that called if Sylus wanted to casually bully you into visiting.

Your phone dinged and you quickly pulled it from your ear to view the message. It was a photo from Luke, showing the destruction of the front room of the base. Furniture was smashed, paintings torn from the wall, and other various decorations thrown about. The brandy decanter that’d been on a side table laid shattered on the ground, along with the two glasses that typically accompanied it.

“Kieran, what the fuck happened?” Worry sank into you as your eyes darted over the photo, hoping you wouldn’t find blood. There weren't really any signs of a struggle, just aimless chaos.

“We don’t know, we thought you might. He came home last night in a scary good mood and then halfway through the night, he just started wrecking the place.”

“We just had dinner and took a walk around the park, there wasn’t anything unusual about anything.” You tried thinking over the night and still couldn’t come up with an answer. “Where is he now?”

“He’s holed up in his room now, but we’re leaving. Before this temper tantrum, he asked us to go pick something up so there won't be anyone here.” There was a hint of uncertainty in Kieran’s voice, as though the twins were reluctant to leave Sylus in the state he was in.

“Okay, that’s fine,” you pinched the bridge of your nose. “I just got home from work, so I’ll be there in a bit to see if I can talk some sense into him.”

The call disconnected and you hastily packed a bag for an overnight stay in the N109 Zone. You were out the door and on your motorbike in a matter of minutes, speeding through the darkening streets to get to him as quickly as you could.

When you arrived, the house was eerily quiet. There was almost always something from Sylus’s collection of vinyls playing, the sound filtering through the halls from deep within the façade, but not tonight. It was dark, too. Not a single fireplace or lamp was lit. For all intents and purposes, the house was empty. But still you cautiously pressed onward.

“Sylus?” Your voice echoed in the house as you stepped gingerly over the debris, the light of your phone guiding your way. You made your way to his bedroom, knocking on the door.

“Sylus?” You called again when you cracked the door open. A single dim lamp let you see that the room was in similar disarray to the rest of the house. Still, there was no response, and you thought that maybe he’d left.

A feral-sounding growl emanated from the room. It didn’t sound human at all, and you wished you’d brought your weapon. Was all of the destruction the result of a wanderer? Your watch didn’t detect anything but-

“Leave.” Sylus’s voice was strained and…off. Instead of the usual gravel, there was a hint of something more, something beastly. You had heard stories of people turning into wanderers…was it possible that Sylus was a victim to this anomaly?

“Sy, is everything okay?” You dropped into his nickname out of habit, hoping that whatever had taken over his mind would recognize it.

“If you know what’s best for you, Kitten, you will leave right now.” His words echoed in your head, something familiar about them and this situation. You had brief flashes of tapestries and a cave before your mind returned to the present.

“Sy, are you hurt? The twins called me,” you said calmly, stepping further. You still couldn’t see him, but you could hear his ragged breathing coming from deeper in the room.

You had just cleared the archway that separated the sittig area from the sleeping space when you were pushed roughly against the wall. The side table holding the lamp teetered violently before falling over and taking the lamp with it, shattering the bulb. In the brief seconds the light was on him, you could see that Sylus’s pupils were blown wide and his face was flush. In the newfound darkness, his hot breath fanned across your neck in a series of shaky pants.

“Sylus, please. Tell me what’s wrong, you’re worrying me,” you say, raising your hand to cup his cheek. He made a sound like a barely restrained groan as he turned his face into your touch, inhaling deeply. He pressed his lips against your fingers, your palm, your wrist. You were certain that if he’d had a tail, it would be lashing about in agitation.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he growled. “I don’t think I can be very accommodating or gentle right now, Kitten.”

His warning rolled off him, and yet he still pressed further into you. He buried his nose into your neck, inhaling sharply and his lips trailed your pulse.

“S-Sy,” you gasped as his teeth scraped against your skin, in a spot that held an echo of an ache that no longer existed. Worry was very quickly being replaced with something else, something that pooled deep in your core.

“Mmh,” he purred, nuzzling his face against your neck again. “Your scent…steamy and sweet, like cherry wine. It’s been driving me insane all day.”

“Sylus, what-“ your question was cut off when he slanted his mouth across yours. All thoughts escaped you as he consumed you, plunging his tongue into your mouth the moment you opened for him. Worry and doubt fled from you and every sense was filled with him. You’d even forgotten why you arrived at the base in the first place as he hoisted you up against the wall. Your legs hitched up to wrap around his waist and your arms folded around his broad shoulders. He growled in approval, still devouring you as he pressed impossibly close. You could feel him standing at attention, hard and ready, and you wondered how long he’d been in that condition.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, his voice a breathless whisper against your lips.

“Well, I am here. What’s going on with you, you’re worrying me.” You had to tug at his hair to get him to back off just the slightest bit. Even with your eyes adjusted to the darkness of the room, his face was too far cast in shadows. He was definitely still Sylus, though- you didn’t see any signs of him transforming into a monster. Just the raging hardon that was pressed against your core.

“Kitten,” he whined, dropping his head against your shoulder. His breathing was ragged, sharp inhales let go as shaky exhales. “This need I feel…it’s like I crave you on some primal level.”

He groaned when you tugged at his hair again, just a gentle pull to guide his mouth back to yours. His chest rumbled in what felt like a purr, the vibrations rolling through you to gather at your already wanting core. You gave your silent consent to him by pulling him closer, devouring his mouth in equal fervor. You gently caught his bottom lip between your teeth and his entire body shuddered.

“You should-” lips found your leaping pulse.

“Run away-“ his teeth scraped the slope of your neck.

“While you still can-“ he latched onto your collarbone, sucking at the spot with a hard draw to create a mark there. You gasped and squirmed as best you could while crushed against the wall by his bulk. The action ground your core against his length and he groaned when he released you from his mouth.

“Take me,” you breathed into him. “Use me. Whatever you need, I’m here.”

He groaned again and hauled you against him, pulling away from the wall to stumble blindly to his bed. There he dropped you onto the mattress, bathing you in the pale lights of the city filtering in from the window. His eyes were still cast in shadow, but you could still see the desire that darkened his expression. He was silent, save for the sound of his heavy breaths, as his hand stroked from calf to hip. Heat blazed from his touch, sinking through the fabric of the leggings you wore.

“Last chance, Kitten,” he growled, the sound rumbling low in his chest. Hands rested at your hip, teasing the waistband in silent question. Though you had already given explicit consent, he waited.

Rather than voicing your answer, and rather than giving in to what he so very clearly wanted, your hands found the collar of his shirt. With slow precision, you unbuttoned his shirt while keeping your eyes locked on his. His breath came in shuddering bursts, his body trembling as you teased him. It was a cruel test of his control, even knowing how close he was to snapping. But you couldn’t help yourself. There was something about seeing carnal desire written in every feature, in every motion, that made you want to take advantage of it.

A sharp inhale, followed by a shuddered exhale when your hand trailed down his newly exposed chest in a tantalizing sweep. He caught your hand before it could trail too far down his abdomen, bringing it to his lips and laying a kiss across your knuckles, and another at your wrist.

And then his lips found yours in a searing kiss to seal your agreement. There was nothing short of passion in the way he devoured you, the way he coaxed you open to tangle his tongue with yours. The heat of his mouth trailed along your jaw, down your neck, searing into any exposed skin he could access until he was stopped my the lapel of the button down shirt you wore. Without warning, he grasped the overlapped edges at the front and ripped your shirt wide open. Buttons flew in every direction and all you could do was muffle your moan with a gasp. Because damn, that show of strength was not one you expected to be so hot. You didn’t even care about the loss of the shirt, you wanted him to do it again.

With the obstruction out of his way, Sylus continued the forge a blazing trail of kisses down your body. The bandeau you wore as a bra was shoved down so that he could swirl his tongue around one nipple and then the other. Soft bites to the undersides of your breasts as he continued downward elicited a sharp inhaled gasp from you. His fingers slipped into the waistband of your leggings at each hip and then tugged, removing them and your underwear in one swift motion. Shyness coursed through you when you were finally fully bared to him, but you didn’t fight him when he held your legs in place, spread for him, so he could rake his eyes up and down you.

His lips found the inside of your knee, teeth finding your thigh, and then his face was dangerously close to your core. You swore you could see his eye flash a quick glow, but the next moments pushed all thoughts and reason from your head.

“I’ll start with your warmest spot…” he murmured against your skin. And then he dipped his head further, his breath fanning against your slick folds. “And until I’m finished, you’re not allowed to stop me.”

And then he descended, overwhelming your cunt with precise strokes of his tongue. You tried to twist away from him, crying out in pleasure, but he held you fast. His gaze bored into you, even as your hands sunk into the silky strands of his hair. He worked you until you were right on the precipice, but then pulled away with a devilish grin before you could crash over the other side. You whined at his unfair treatment until he set about removing his own clothing. Your own gaze devoured him the more he exposed of himself, and fuck he was perfect in every way.

He crawled languidly up your body and settled over you, reclaiming your mouth in a hard, punishing kiss. His knee wedged between yours, pushing and coaxing until you had enough thinking power to wrap yourself around him. This put the head of his cock right at your entrance, and you strained your hips towards him in a desperate bid for penetration. A dark chuckle escaped him when he realized what you were attempting.

“All mine,” he growled. Your knee was hooked over his elbow, one at first and then both as the kiss progressed to a carnal need. You were open fully to him now, and all that was left was for him to take that plunge.

And fuck, did he ever.

His hips snapped forward without hesitation, not even affording you the time to adjust to his girth and length. Not that it was necessary, not when he glided into you easily on the slickness of your arousal. He slammed against you, sinking into you to the hilt, and you couldn’t help the pleasured sound that escaped you. You folded your arms around his shoulders, nails biting into his skin when he tried to pull back. He didn’t get far before his hips jerked forward again, almost off their own accord.

It was as though there was some primal instinct that drove him into you so impossibly deep. You couldn’t understand where it came from, but fuck it felt good. The sensations of his cock slamming into you paired with the guttural moans erupting from him brought you back to that precipice rapidly. So rapidly that you barely had a moment's notice before you came apart around him. Pleasure zipped up your spine, turning your mind blank. All you could do was arch beneath him, crying out his name even as he continued to plunder your body.

He so easily folded you in half and set a pace that was bordering on punishing. What little control he could claim to have had in this moment was gone as he rutted into you. The sounds of your bodies colliding over and over rose to join your pleasured cries and his own grunting moans. You were glad the base had emptied due to his tantrum, because it would be very obvious what was happening should anyone step on the floor landing. Hell, even floors below could probably hear your loud, frenzied mating.

Feeling bold, maybe even mischievous, you lifted your mouth to the jumping pulse at his neck and scraped your teeth against it. Sylus let out a shaky, breathy moan and tilted his head away to grant you more access. With a grin, you bit down on that corded muscle that made up the slope of his neck.

His head fell against your chest with a deep moan, slamming his hips into you hard. Your bite turned into sucking on his neck, raising a mark to show your claim on him to anyone who would dare to look. And he also latched his mouth to your skin, drawing out the same kind of mark.

With a growl, he released your neck to observe the purpling mark he made. His gaze darted to yours, locking eyes with you as his thrusts increased to a breakneck pace. Pleasured expressions flitted across your face and you were almost certain that’s what he was looking for. And then you were arching into him again, crying out his name as your walls pulsed around him. The edge he had been chasing came and went, and he spilled into you with a guttural cry of his own. His hips jerked and slammed into you, his cock twitching as you milked him for everything he had.

He kissed you feverishly, and even as you came down from the high of release, he was still impossibly hard inside you. He rocked into you with small thrusts and you could feel his heart hammering beneath your touch.

“Fuck, how do you feel this damn good,” he whimpered against your lips. His body crashed against yours when you whimpered his name in response, over and over as he chased another release. It came to him with a sharp snap of his hips against yours, a shudder that swept through his entire body, and then more hot ropes of cum were flooding your cunt again.

And he still somehow wasn’t done with you.

A brief respite was all that was granted before he was thrusting deep into you again. At this point, you weren't even sure where you ended and he began. You were beginning to wonder if you would be leaking his cum for days after this encounter, even moreso when he slammed into you again with a guttural, primal cry of ecstasy. This one brought you over the edge with him, the feel of his cock pulsing and twitching inside you drawing release from you without warning.

Finally, after one more orgasm ripped through both of you, Sylus slumped against you. He nuzzled into your neck, soft kisses peppering your skin as you both attempted to regain your breath. He released your legs from his pressing hold and you ran your thighs down both sides of his body, delighting in the way he shuddered again.

You were both a sweaty mess, and you were certain the sheets needed to be changed once he slipped from your body. But he took his sweet time with you, giving gentle kisses that were a stark contrast to the primal possession he just exhibited. The weight and heat of him pressing you into the mattress felt like heaven, and you made a mental note to request this kind of skinship again in the future. Maybe with a little less mess. Or maybe with more, who knows.

You complained when he removed himself from the bed, grudgingly allowing yourself to be carried by him to the bathroom. You were exhausted and couldn’t work up the energy to feel embarrassed as he cleaned you up in the shower, but you were delighted in the way his hands massaged your scalp as he washed your hair. You nearly fell asleep when he blow dried your hair, making him have to carry you back to bed. He slipped you between fresh silk sheets and climbed in behind you, trailing kisses along the back of your neck and shoulders as he wrapped himself around you.

Safe and cozy, you fell into the deepest sleep you’d ever experienced.

And when you awoke to Sylus being gone, you couldn’t help but pout. Until he pushed through the door with a tray in hand, wrapped in his favourite brocade robe. He wordlessly set the tray down in front of you, and you saw it was filled with various crackers, cheeses, and fruits.

“Consider this my apology,” he said with a chuckle as you eagerly dug into the tray. He sat next to you in bed, allowing you to feed him. He was content enough to watch you enjoy the tray, but couldn’t say no when you turned to offer him bites.

“What was that all about anyway?” You ask finally, after working up the courage to not be shy. Sylus’s brows drew down in thought.

“I’m not entirely sure, I don’t think I’ve ever experienced something like that before. I came home to being surrounded by your essence, your scent, and it's like a switch flipped in my head. Like I was possessed. Like some sort of primal instinct that wouldn’t leave until I had you flat on your back with my cock driving into you.”

You blushed furiously at his casual words, occupying your hands and face with more food, so that you wouldn’t put those hands and your mouth all over him in some sort of retaliation. He chuckled darkly and leaned close, inhaling deeply at your neck.

“Mmh. I think I like my scent being intertwined with yours,” he growled into your ear.

Neither of you left his bed for a while following that, and you were grateful it was your weekend.

[soapcloth]

CW: ghost/referenced ghoap x reader, slight angst, possessive behaviour - dividers -> @/cafekitsune

Being the one to pick up Soap’s wardrobe from a secondhand store— the donation so fresh that the scent hadn’t even had the chance to fade and mingle with the rest of the shop. You’re wearing a dead man’s hoodie and you haven’t got the faintest clue.

You like his overbearingly rugged smell; find yourself lifting up the collar to inhale and wonder what the person who donated it is like. The hoodie is emblazoned with a name— maybe he’ll see you on the street one day in his old clothes and use it as an ice breaker. The thought is nice. You don’t even know.

Soap was a man who liked personlized items; a taste for things that were one of a kind— just like him. Everything he touched had been marked by a man living a full life and was wholly unmistakable to the discerning eye of the shadow who knew him inside out.

So why was ghost, absolutely swamped in grief, forced to see an interloper wearing his boy’s clothes? He just wanted a fucking coffee.

Johnny’s official family funeral had been no more than a month ago and there was already a stranger wearing his stuff. If ghost had the privilege to grab that box of Johnny’s items and run, it would be neatly tucked away in his closet, silently cherished. Not hanging off the frame of some random civilian who could never even begin to fathom the depths of a man like John MacTavish.

It must’ve been the world playing a sick joke on him that you, who didn’t even know the man, would be able to collect Johnny’s stuff before him. Never allowed anything.

Suffice to say, he’s pissed when he spots you. Stands a bit too close to you so Johnny’s scent can catch in his nose. You’re clearly nervous, but manage to smile hopefully when he makes an offhanded comment about liking the garment. You probably think they’re his clothes, don’t you?

Well, for all intents and purposes, they are.

You ask if he’s ‘MacTavish’ and something in him wants to scream at you that the world hated him far too much for that to ever happen— instead he just nods, leering at how happy that makes you. He can’t tell if your response lights up his brain because he wants to bite your head clean off— or because somewhere, deep inside him, seeing someone so excited about ‘finding’ Johnny is nice.

He hatches a plan. Knead away at your apprehension towards his intimidating appearance, bag a quick fuck— god knows he needs one, grab the clothes, and disappear from your life with Johnny’s items finally where they belong. It’s perfect.

Well, it’s perfect until an unavoidable, nagging voice starts to rattle around in the back of his skull that Johnny would have been absolutely smitten with you. You might have been one last parting gift sent from his boy, how could he ever turn that down? The thought of fucking you in Johnny’s clothes, being able to nudge his crooked nose into the fabric and chase the scent that’s starting to entangle with your own— it sends him reeling

Johnny would be so pleased if the scent of their sweet lamb caught. Can vividly picture him absolutely beaming while huffing at the clothes before urging ghost to take a sniff for himself.

He latches onto the notion that maybe, just maybe he could tuck you and the clothes away somewhere safe for his eyes only— teeth already sunken deeper into you than he could ever possibly imagine by the point he finally acknowledges the gnawing revelation.

Johnny would want this for the both of you. This time he’d keep you safe.

[cheshireliam]

"Growing Feelings Poured Into Chocolate" Collection Event

Ring Schwartz

This is a fan-made translation solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

Got too excited and did this in a rush. Didn't really proofread...

Kate: Ring!

…

Kate: Ring!

…

Kate: Riiiinngg!

(I can't find him anywhere…)

Today was Valentine's Day— a day to gift chocolates and other gifts to express your appreciation or love.

I had prepared chocolates to show my appreciation to everyone who's supported me.

That included the members of Crown of course, the friendly maids at Crown's castle, and even the members of Vogel.

However, Ring was the only person I couldn't find today.

(He usually says he's watching me and follows right behind me… where could he be?)

I was determined to give Ring his chocolates, and so I kept searching for him…

In the end, I never found him.

…

(Darius and Nica said he was somewhere in the palace when I asked…)

(He might come back to drawing room, so I'll wait here for now.)

When I sat down on a chair and let out a deep sigh to ease my fatigue, a wave of sleepiness slowly washed over me.

(I know I shouldn't fall asleep in a place like this, and yet…)

The more I tried to shake off the sleepiness, the heavier my eyelids grew.

Just as I decided to give in and take a short nap, I felt soft blanket being gently draped over my shoulders.

(Who is it…?)

I cracked my eyes open slightly, and saw that the person standing before me was the exact person I had been searching for the entire time.

Kate: Ring!

Ring: UWAH!? You… you're awake!?

Kate: I just woke up. There's something I want to tell you, so please hear me out!

I firmly grabbed his arm to make sure he wouldn't run off.

Ring: Sigh… so this is where my escape ends.

Kate: I knew it. I couldn't find you all day, because you were avoiding me on purpose, weren't you?

Kate: Why are you running away from me? If it's something I did, I'll apologise.

Ring: No… it's not anything you did…

Ring: … I just didn't want to be disappointed.

He muttered in a small voice that sounded no louder than a squeak.

Kate: Disappointed…?

Ring: You gave… chocolates to Nica and Darius this morning, right?

Ring: I kept thinking, what if I ran into you today and didn't get any chocolate…?

Ring: I'd probably feel disappointed and think "I was right, I'm not getting any", so I chose to run away.

Ring: … I'm weird, aren't I?

Ring: Until now, it's never bothered me whenever Darius and Nica received gifts from girls and I didn't…

Ring: But the thought of not receiving chocolates from you really made me feel gloomy.

Listening to Ring express his confusion with those unfamiliar feelings filled my heart with warmth.

Kate: To think you wanted my chocolates so much… I'm really honoured.

Kate: You feeling gloomy over the possibility of not receiving them is proof that our friendship has gotten closer!

When I was a child, I would feel lonely too if my friends played with other children instead of me.

Ring's feelings were most likely something similar to that.

Ring: Is that… what it is? No, I'm a member of Vogel and you're from Crown. There's no need for us to get along…

It seemed that Ring still believed he shouldn't be on friendly terms with someone from Crown.

Ignoring his last statement, I took out the chocolates.

Kate: Here, Ring. Happy Valentine's Day!

Ring: This is… for me? I-is it because I said I wanted chocolate…?

Kate: Not at all. I prepared this specifically for you from the start.

Kate: I was looking for you so I could give you these chocolates.

Ring: R-really? I never thought there would come a day when I'd receive Valentine's chocolate…

Ring: … I figured I'd spend my whole life just eating Nica's leftover chocolate.

Ring: Thanks. I'm… I'm super happy.

Ring: I think I'll spend every day and night staring at these chocolates.

Kate: Huh?

Ring: If I look at them whenever I wake up in the mornings and before I go to sleep at night, I'll always remember how happy I was when I received them from you…

Kate: Um, they're chocolate, so I'd prefer if you ate them…

Ring: … But they'll be gone if I do.

Ring looked serious about leaving the chocolate untouched, like a dog burying its treat for safekeeping.

(If that's the case…)

Kate: Gotcha!

I switftly snatched the chocolates from Ring's hand and ripped open the packaging.

Ring: My chocolate…!

Kate: I'll give you more next year, so don't feel bad about it. Come on, open your mouth!

Ring: Mmph!

I forcibly stuffed chocolate into Ring's mouth.

Ring: Mm… it's so… sweet, and delicious…

Kate: That's great! I sampled a few and picked the one I thought was the tastiest!

Ring: And… my chest feels tight, I can't breathe…

Kate: … I promise the chocolates aren't poisoned.

Since Ring often said his heart raced like he was under a curse whenever he saw me, I made sure to set the record straight.

Ring: … I know they're not.

Ring: I'm just so happy to you got me chocolates… it hurts.

Kate: …

(… Him admitting it so straightforwardly is a problem in itself.)

Seeing Ring's overjoyed reaction, I felt sweet inside, even though I didn't have any chocolates myself.

[that-weird-thing-in-the-woods]

~{ Heyyy you gremlins, I’m adding one of my other one of my favs into my growing collection of shit, Harpy’s!! I like them and think they’re neat so enjoy this }~

•Harpy•

Damien was being punished for being “Too rough” with criminals than what Father and the rest of the family thought was “Appropriate” so he was to be benched until further notice.

Damien was just doing what was needed and he was being punished for it so here he is walking around on the Wayne estate until he sees a bird a crow to be specific on the ground with one of its wings sticking up and obviously broken by the way it was bent.

So Damien walks over and assesses the damage as well as he can from next to the bird and it seems he has caught the bird’s attention as it looks to him as if it’s judging his soul and Damien can’t help but feel impressed.

After a minute or two the bird moves closer to Damien and Damien makes the move to pick it up and the crow allows him the honor of doing so.

As Damien picks up the crow he starts the walk back to the manner where he can set the wing straight and bandage it up, But Father most likely won’t let him take of the crow as he is “Grounded” as Father said but what Father doesn’t know won’t hurt him…

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

After 3 to 4 weeks of taking care of the crow [And hiding the crow from the others in the manner] their wing has fully recovered [and Damian is still benched].

So well the others are out Damien picks up the crow and makes the walk back to where he first found the crow and sits on the ground with them still in his arms before he sets them down on the ground and unbandaging their wing.

After a minute or two of the crow flapping their wings to just move it, they take off flying and start to fly around Damien before flying into some woods on the edge of the Wayne estate and Damien follows them into the woods.

About 5 or so minutes later Damien follows the crow to a tall tree [How has this not been noticed before now?] with hundreds of other crows around it and the crow that he has been taking care of lands on the outstretched hand of a person with black crow feathers mixed in with the rest of their short mess black hair but what caught Damien’s attention the most were their large black wings on their back.

And when Damien makes a step closer to the tree he steps on a branch, and gaining the beings light surprised blue eyes at his presences.

Oh so this is what mother felt when she met father…

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

So Danny has to leave his world because the GIW + his parents somehow [VLAD] got blood blossoms and started to use them in their weapons.

And it was BAD for Danny, he now has scars on his arms and legs from it and Jazz, Tucker, and Sam all told them to GTFO because they would rather have a far away brother/best friend than a fully dead one to Danny books it to the DC Universe where he ends up in Gotham and somehow gets taken in by the local crow population.

And this starts to change how Danny looks and acts due to spending so much time with the crows of Gotham.

So that’s how we ended up here.

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

•Danny’s appearance•

Couldn’t find a drees I liked or that would actually work with his wings to I went “F*** this I’ll make the bitch” and now we have this

-•—••••••••••••••••—•-

~{ And that’s it! I hope you gremlins like it until next time byeeeeee }~

[bunny-jpeg]

the bow pose

carlos sainz jr

request: vday prompts - 63 and carlos please <3 63. “wow, i didn’t realize you were that...flexible.”

tags: smut/pwp, yoga positions, flexibility, floor/living room sex, modified doggy style

eros (the valentine's day collection)

carlos knew you were a woman of many talents. from your ability to measure the liquor in a cocktail perfectly on the first try, or how you could tell what hour it was from the position of the sun. it was small things that made carlos very impressed with you.

while you'd fluff it off, and tell him it was little things you picked up, carlos was always eager to give you praise. the small things, the large things, everything! but what made his jaw drop was one sunny winter afternoon when he came back from williams testing. and found you in a proper yoga pose.

but not just any pose, the bow pose.

carlos' eyes went wide at the sight of you. you were in a sports bra and atheltic leggings and the way your body bent made him almost drop his williams' branded water bottle.

you noticed him and then slowly dropped the pose. your muscles relaxed and that only enticed him more. especially when you let out a small moan in relaxation. you extended your arms out and propped your top half up as you looked at him with a smile, "hey, honey! how was testing?"

he nodded and put his belongings on the couch, "always perfect. they're great." he tried to brush off how you looked, the cobra position didn't help either. it would still give him easy access to your sweet body. he gave you the once over before he said, “wow, i didn’t realize you were that...flexible."

you chuckled, "i'm a bit rusty. i did it all the time as a teen to keep my body moving. all those joint problems i had in my teens." you exhaled as you stretched your back a little more, "got lazy with it post graduation, but now that you're getting back to proper shape for the season. i should to the same thing."

carlos approached, socked feet padded on the hardwood floor of the rental home you were sharing for the next little while. when he got close enough,he crouched down and spread his hand across your exposed back. he licked his lips, "you look good. hot in all these positions."

you giggled and dropped your top half onto the floor and bent your knees to raise them a little to stretch out your lower back. carlos' gaze grew hungrier. your eyes closed for a moment, but quickly re-opened when you felt him behind you and his hands on your hips.

he raised your hips a little and pressed your soft behind against his clothed cock. he made a face like he was gauging his ability to fuck you in this position, "next time." he said, "i'm really going to see how flexible you are." then pressed into you which caused your back to arch.

you let out a small moan and carlos eyed your behind for a moment before he squeezed the flesh with his hand. the action made your stomach clench and you felt an uptick of excitement in you.

"do you want me?"

"yes."

"good." he said lowly before he took your leggings off of you, he pulled them all the way off before he tossed them towards the couch. he then rubbed up against you. the rough denim of his jeans up against your ass made you moan. he added, "you sound beautiful, i bet you were loud when you got into those positions. i bet you thought about me." his tone was heated and it left you with a lingering want between your legs.

"carlos, fuck." you arched your back a little and felt the flutter of want in your core. thankfully the yoga mat was under your body or else you'd be a lot more achy come morning. you looked over your shoulder at him and saw how hungry he had become for you.

you never knew that carlos liked this. you helped him get your panties off and with your lower half exposed, he pressed your top half further into the mat.

he said, "if it starts to hurt, tell me." and you nodded. he then gripped the back of your neck a little tighter and said, "use your words."

you exhaled and swore, it was arousing. you then said, "yes, of course, carlos." and he let go of you to get himself out of his jeans. he teased your slit soon after, he rubbed the achy tip against your sweet entrance.

"feels amazing as always." he said, "there is something about you i cannot deny. from the moment i met you, i knew i had to have you. all over you. and to see you bend the way you do only turns me on more." his breathing grew heavier as he sank his cock into you. you easily split open for him, letting himself get snug between your thighs.

pussy that felt like heaven, he could taste the pleasure in his throat now with both hands on your hips. he loomed over you as he started to move his hips, slow yet forceful thrusts against you.

"perfect." he purred.

you could feel the climb of pleasure in your core as he felt like he shook your foundation. there was nothing quite like him. never have been anyone like him. and there never will be anyone like him. the feeling was euphoric in a certain way that had you moaning loudly.

sex with carlos was almost an exciting affair, the type that pulled you in each time you did it. you clung onto the edge of the yoga mat and let carlos arch your back a little more to give you both the pleasure you desired. it was hot, it was an achy heat that left your mouth spilling words of heated lust.

"please, carlos. fuck, i didn't know it would make you feel this good. i should've done yoga sooner." you chuckled as your grip on the mat tightened the more than carlos moved himself against you. your breaths were heavy pants and you loved the feeling of him on top of you.

you hated to admit it, even though you couldn't look at him in the position. you loved doggy style quite a bit, it just hit all the right places and made your head spin. carlos was good at that, making your soul thrum with sexual desire and wanted.

they didn't associate him with a hot pepper for nothing. often left your cheeks hotter than the chili itself. you dropped your head to the met and let its softness keep your cheek comfortable while carlos continued to thrust into you, marginally picking up speed.

"always sound so sweet for me."

you couldn't help it. you felt like you were adding to the arousal. but in reality it felt like your brain didn't know what to do with all the added pleasure other than to let carlos know how good he made you feel. his special talent, making his girlfriend squirm and moan.

but you knew if it all became too much, to let him know. there was no issue if he just flooded your head a little too much with the rush of pleasure. he kissed your back, the spots were the bra straps didn't cover. he could almost feel your heartbeat in your back. he held on a little tighter and you moaned louder.

"and you feel amazing too, my love." his voice hot in your ear, "how you move, how you bend. all positions for me to fuck you in." he chuckled lowly, "you'd let me stretch, bend and fuck you to my liking. isn't that right?"

you swore under your breath. pleasure felt heavy in your gut as he continued to fuck you, his pace much faster and left your head feeling in a stir as his cock bullied himself up inside of your beautiful pussy. who the hell allowed him to fuck you so good, to know exactly how to make you feel good.

the pleasure only grew in your as you pressed your cheek further against the mat and let him have full control of your slick pussy. the sounds of fucking filled the living room. you two were going at it, the pace quickened as you both felt closer to your climaxes. it was intense, the fire swarmed through your belly as it throbbed in your head.

"please carlos." you panted as you felt the tension in you grow. the sexual desire for him mounted and it wasn't much longer before you felt it all splash you. and you came around his cock.

"that's it, that's it." he cooed as he continued to fuck you. his pace left you breathless as the shudder of pleasure coursed through you. it felt amazing, you felt amazing. a piece of heaven all blissed out under him.

he kissed your back once more and felt the rapid thumping in his chest as he got close. he gave you a searing kiss at the back of your neck as he slammed his entire length into you and finished inside of you.

"fuck."

"i love you." he said hotly as he stopped his movements and let himself hold you by the waist for a few more moments. he pressed more kissed against your back and whispered sweet praises of his love to you. it sounded beautiful until he managed to pull his head away and loudly exhale.

it took a lot out of him, especially after the day of racing. he pulled away and rested himself on his heels while your hips dropped to the mat. you got onto your back and looked around to find your bottoms. but you had a feeling they wouldn't be found until morning.

carlos said as he pushed his sweaty hair out of his face and chuckled, "next time, i'm really going to see how flexible you are." he admired you before you pulled him in by the shirt. your lips crashed into one another and he groaned into the kiss

when you pulled away, you asked him, "why don't we find out right now?" <3

[zephyrchama]

Make barbatos fanfics pls

The memory of your recent mishap kept playing in your mind. It was a complete mistake - you hadn't intended to drench Barbatos in tea. Despite him being more than capable of protecting himself, you foolishly attempted to shield him from whatever toxic concoction Solomon was cooking up. One thing led to another, a massive pot fell over, there was an ear-deafening clang, and Barbatos was on the ground. Sopping wet.

He wasted no time in excusing himself to clean off, leaving you to bear the weight of your sins. Anyone could have easily cleaned the mess with magic, but Barbatos instead opted for a shower for some peace and quiet to calm down. Solomon was left to scrub the floor by hand since he started this issue in the first place.

As all of the castle's linens had been conveniently gathered in the laundry room to be inventoried, you took it upon yourself to grab a clean towel and deliver it to Barbatos.

You could hear the water running from down the hall. It was so loud, you weren't sure Barbatos could hear you. Wisps of steam escaped from the cracks around the bathroom door. You knocked. There was no answer.

"Barbatos?" you called, knocking again. There was no answer. Only the running of water. He was probably already in the shower. You could take this opportunity to grab his soiled uniform and clean it before the stains permanently set in.

With that plan of action, you opened the door. Barbatos was not in the shower, despite the running faucet. In fact, Barbatos was stark naked in the middle of the room. A washcloth in his hand indicated he had already obtained his own towels. He had his back to the door, as if he was just about to enter the tub. He made eye contact with you over his shoulder, eyes wide.

That one second felt like an hour.

His posture was superb. A mix of tea and condensation from the muggy bathroom air trailed down the curve of his spine, fine enough to be in a medical textbook. Your eyes followed, down to the base of his tail and the derriere behind it. Two fabulous, firm full moons. A sight rarer than anything else in all the three realms.

"Did you need something?"

Barbatos' usual polite tone was punctuated with umbrage. He placed a hand on his chest, as though shielding his visage.

"I'm sorry!" were the first words you spat out, on reflex. Coherent thinking failed you in the face of such art. Sentences started falling out of your mouth and you hoped they made sense. "I thought you might need a towel, so I got one from the laundry and came to give it to you. I knocked! I did, I knocked, but you didn't answer so I came in to leave this."

You held the towel forward with both hands as an offering. "And I was gonna collect your clothes so I could wash them. As an apology for, ah, that other thing I did. Sorry."

You stared at the ground. Even Barbatos' ankles were pristine. A little bony, tapering down at the sides that led to his slender feet. You watched his weight shift as his tail curled closer to his body.

"How thoughtful. I'd appreciate if you could hang it on the towel bar. I will handle my clothes myself, later."

"Right, of course." You swiveled and diligently hung the towel up. The dirty clothes in question were on the ground, still soaking wet, neatly folded in a square. You looked from them back to Barbatos. He was rooted in place, not budging in the slightest. One wrong move, and who knew how much you'd see?

More than the current eyeful, that's for sure. More than the slope of his shoulders. More than the rise and fall of his upper body with each fresh breath. More than the sight of his wet hair clinging to the curve of his jawbone and the tenseness in his arm when his painted fingernails wrapped around the tiny washcloth.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked. An obvious cue for you to leave.

"I'm good," you said. It was hard not to ogle at the size of his waist fully unobscured by clothing, and its ratio to his hips. "Do you... need any help?"

"I am fine. I will be taking my shower now." His voice echoed around the bathroom as you finally left. It echoed around your head, too, when he said, "be good and wait for me."

[pseudocyance]

everything I know about the iskall situation, starting at the beginning

putting this together for @cryptidwithaninternetconnection everybody feel free to reblog and repost this information)

Trigger warnings for sexual harassment, harassment, mental health issues, depression, implied suicidal thoughts

Please read all of the links! Everything underlined is linked to more information.

This post has and will be edited to add additional information

started with this tweet from Hermitcraft, it was the first thing we got about anything:

Heres Doc's reaction at being asked about it

here's Mumbo and False:

And then there's this from the Vault Hunters discord:

Thats everything we got day 1

Day 2 was when the victim statements came out.

#1

#2

#3 - I don't have screenshots because I don't have Twitter but here is the link

And then nothing happened for several months.

Then, yesterday Iskall put out a video.

Here is the transcript

Stress left this comment on the video

Since the video, here are some responses from Impulse, Cub, Scar and Cleo:

And here is everything I've found that Wells had said (he's saying a lot so by the time I post this there might be more):

These could also be about Dream as Wells been very vocal about that situation as well.

(This is an edit. I was just sent this from Wels about the "short story"

)

That is all of the stuff I've currently collected, I can reblog this with more stuff when I receive it.

please @ me with any mistakes I made here, but don't harrass me based on the stance ive taken. I will block freely.

My thoughts (my biased opinion) are under the cut

I think Iskall is in the wrong. He did shitty things and didn't apologize, instead victim-blamed his way through it. I'm also incredibly disappointed in Stress. I believed that she left due to feeling betrayed by her friend, but I guess she left because she supports him. That kinda really hurts.

But I also think that a lot of the other Hermits, especially Wels and Scar, went too far with their passive aggressive posts. This person was their friend so they should be treating this situation more seriously.

Obviously, them being childish with their replies instead of directly addressing the situation doesn't mean Iskall is in the right. He's a bad person that hasn't apologized for anything.

I know this is kind of a sign of a parasocial relationship, but I feel really betrayed by Iskall. I started watching Hermitcraft in s7 and loved his POV so much. Now i can't force myself to re-watch s7 or finish s6, just because I know he was a bad person all along.

Idk. I'm really tired. And frustrated. And hurt.

[aaagustd]

the "war of love" collab (m)

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ a Seventeen collection

❝ Fool you once, shame on him. Fool you twice, shame on you. Fool you three times…

Damn, you’re fucked.

Falling for the wrong guy for all the wrong reasons is the brand around here. Your mind, your body, and your heart are all at odds—battling for dominance in this twisted tug of war. However, we all know there’s only one winner here.

Welcome to hell, darling. Love can’t wait to chew you up and spit you out. ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 DEAD DOVES DO NOT EAT 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ This is your final warning! The content below may contain themes that are mature/triggering/upsetting/etc. We are not responsible for what you consume or how it affects you. Please leave if you are not a fan of dark content!

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 A Long Kiss Goodnight 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @aaagustd ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ demon outlaw!seungcheol x executioner/hangman!(f)reader

❝ Seungcheol and his gang ran the West for decades. Now that he's finally been captured, he must face the last person he ever thought he'd meet. The hangman patiently waits for his arrival, but little do you know—you're going to get burned trying to drag this demon back to hell. [wild west au, smut, supernatural] ❞ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Desperado by Rihanna

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Deadly Duty 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @yoonguurt ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ crooked politician!jeonghan x reader

❝ You live a normal life. You shop got groceries based on what's on sale, even though you're probably gonna order take out. You pay your taxes and you feed stray cats. Lately though, weird things have been happening. A feeling of eyes on you, of being watched. Notes being left outside of your door. With a feeling of uneasiness, you decide to take action. Time to pay a visit to the chief of police, Yoon Jeonghan. He vows to find out what's going on, even if his methods are iffy at best. [s2l, smut, yandere] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Sorry Not Sorry 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @hannieween ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ con artist!joshua x (f)reader

❝Joshua Hong’s life turned upside down when his latest scheme spiraled out of control. From being so feared that his name alone could send even the most cunning criminals into hiding, to playing the role of a loving, unassuming husband—so remarkably that he wouldn’t even draw the attention of a fly.   But old habits never die, and in a world where trust is currency and lies are as good as gold, will he resist the pull of his past? [fluff, smut, ex-criminal joshua, husband joshua] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Official Business 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @lovetaroandtaemin ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ corrupt politician!jun x rival's wife!reader

❝ When you meet Junhui at an official dinner that you're attending with your husband, he immediately catches your attention. You keep your distance at first, choosing to stay faithful to your husband rather than giving in to what you initially write off as fleeting attraction. However, you change your mind when your husband's mistress shows up at your door with demands for child support for her unborn baby. As lines are crossed, you find yourself addicted to the way Junhui makes you feel, making you realize that you deserve better than your no-good husband. [smut, angst, fluff, criminal au] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Puppet Master 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @/aaagustd ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ mafia boss!soonyoung x mistress!(f)reader

❝ He doesn’t love you. He doesn’t care if you’d die for him. You’re just a silly little toy he plays with whenever he feels like cheating.  [mafia au, smut, crime au] ❞ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Dangerously In Love by Beyoncé

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Checkmate 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @hobeemin ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ corrupt businessman!wonwoo x lawyer!(f)oc

❝ Based loosely on Rumpelstiltskin, he craves power in all forms. He'll step on anyone to achieve his goals, even blackmail. Marriage is only a contractual obligation in his eyes. Anything to seize the perfect opportunity. [mafia au, arranged marriage, crime au, romance, smut, thriller, angst, e2l, s2l] ❞ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Tony Montana by AgustD ft. Yankie

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 All Your Fault 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @beomcoups ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ gang leader!jihoon x ex-girlfriend!reader

❝ You haven't seen Woozi in years, and you moved on fine, turning your life around and leaving dark life behind... until he crashes into you literally, in trouble— and you are the only one who can help him. [criminal au, fluff, angst, smut] ❞ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Die 4 U by Dean

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Watchful Eye 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @/lovetaroandtaemin ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ seokmin x fem!reader

❝ You and Seokmin were high school sweethearts, but when your distrust of Seokmin's new friends led to an argument about trust and control, the relationship ended. Years later, you and Seokmin have your own lives, but you have no idea that his centers around crime. What will happen when Seokmin happens to see you out on a date with a man that isn't him? [angst, smut, mafia au] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Choppers & Charms 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @shadowkoo ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ biker gang leader!mingyu x pychic!(f)reader

❝ Mingyu doesn’t believe in magic or witches, or whatever the hell you want to call it. Life has always been straightforward for him. He prefers hard logic, undeniable facts, and a healthy dose of skepticism backed up by a fist or a bullet, whichever feels the most efficient at that moment in time. So when he finds himself in a dimly lit occult shop, face-to-face with a psychic who looks nothing like the crystal-gazing crone he’s imagined, he’s convinced it’s all an elaborate con. But then you mention something buried deep in his past, something no one else could possibly know, and leave him with a chilling warning about a certain ‘business deal’ he has planned for the next day. He brushes it off as a clever scam, until that warning saves his life... and the lives of his crew. Suddenly, you’re not just some fortune-telling charlatan. You’re dangerous, powerful, and the one person he can’t afford to lose. [smut, criminal au, biker gang au] ❞ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : Venom by Windwaker

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Hotwired 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @caelesjjk ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ car thief!minghao x (f)reader

❝ Just when you really start to believe that you can move on from Minghao and all of his commitment issues, you find yourself in the passenger seat of his stupidest grand theft auto job yet. He asks for one night to show you that he wants you and he wants to keep you for good this time. And you’re a sucker when it comes to the thrill of loving him. [criminal au, exes to lovers, smut] ❞ ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ : No Shame by 5 Seconds Of Summer

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Street Demon 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @sailorsoons ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ mafia!seungkwan x (f)reader

❝ You’ve been street racing since you could reach the pedal of a car - it’s the only thing you’ve ever been good at. When a rival decides they’re tired of losing to you, Seungkwan steps in to show he’s more than just a street racer. [criminal au, acquaintances to lovers, smut] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Stitch Fix 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @/sailorsoons ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ gang member!vernon x nurse!reader

❝ Working endless overnights in the emergency room is the least favorite part of your job. Your recurring patient with the split knuckles and a charming smile is your favorite part, even if it shouldn’t be. [criminal au, strangers to lovers, smut] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 Across the Universe 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️- by @kwanisms ╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ alien outlaw!chan × bounty hunter human!(f)reader

❝ The year is 2487 and humanity has finally spread its intergalactic wings and taken to the cosmos, expanding the Human Empire and reaching into the depths of the universe. Along the way, they have met many alien species, some sentient and some not so sentient. As the whole of the human race has settled into this new way of living, they’ve learned that life in space is not much different than life was in the Solar System. Crime is still rampant. Many turn to crime to make a living and then there are those who hunt the criminals down. Or the one where Y/N is a human bounty hunter and is tasked with hunting down an alien outlaw who goes by the name Dino. [smut, science fiction, space opera, space exploration, slight horror themes; non idol au, alien au, bounty hunter au] ❞

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 coming soon! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

🖤⃝🇷𓊈𒆜 join the collab taglist! 𒆜𓊉࿐☠️

╭┈◦•◦❥•◦ To be a part of this taglist you must be 18+!! You will not be tagged by each writer, but you will receive a notification each time the masterlist is updated. 

[note]: Spam and/or harassment towards the hosts/writers will result in the taglist being removed. If you have a question regarding one of the collab stories, please "kindly" reach out to the writer. Lastly, "dead doves do not eat". No member of this collab is responsible for your triggers or preferences. If you know you are entering dangerous/grey territory it is YOUR responsibility to heed warnings.

[taglist form]

divider credit

[girl-lostconnection]

✨Concept ✨1 part

Thinking about Helldiver!Reader again.

They way they would absolutely love Soap and his sharp mind and his out of box thinking and his resourcefulness.

As a Helldiver in the field you often don’t have resources — too little time, ship leaves the orbit and leaves you with no supplies, no reinforcements, no protection.

Just you, ammo you have left in your mag and whatever you can scavenge around the barren terrain quick enough to scramble something together.

And Soap that chats you up about the bombs and explosives, elated to have such attentive listener, shares the ways to demolish something the quickest way possible, talks you through the process and wires and “nah, it’s alright, C4 is fairly harmless, see? Can make lil’le snake out of it”.

You never say why you are so interested in it, you never share that oftentimes there are no more ammunition to shoot the enemy, that grenades are all you have.

Soap grins, offering to give you a hand with what you work with on daily basis and you let him in the armoury — showing what you already bought, showing what you are currently using.

You get a little carried away, so proud of collection you already established — it’s not much but it costed you almost half a year of everyday deployments and you feel like it’s somehow satisfactory.

Not like anyone really checks what Helldivers work with anyway so you are in the clear.

But there is a strange look in Soap’s face and your voice waivers, jaws snapping shut, awful uncomfortable heat climbing up your face when he asks if it’s really everything you have.

Was it…was it not enough? Are you supposed to have more? How much more is needed? Do SAS have more? Shit, it must cost them good chunk of their salaries.

Thoughts swarm your head, visor of your helmet clicking back in place, hiding your eyes and maybe there was something in them. Just a glimpse. Just before you slammed your walls back up.

Because Soap’s voice softens when he hums “no biggie, let’s see what we can do, aye? These ones are actually real blast—” and you have the petty desire to push him out of your armoury. Off your ship. Away from you.

You don’t need his pity. You don’t- you don’t know what the fuck SAS works with but you got your supplies yourself and you worked so hard to get them.

But your fingers just clench and unclench, creak of leather gloves louder than you would’ve wanted because Soap looks at you like he wants to smack himself, because it feels as if you almost shrink on yourself.

But you don’t say anything because…it’s really not his fault. It’s just the way it is, right? You are sure SAS have their fair share of issues with supplies, after all, command said that it’s better Helldivers cover the costs themselves.

Surely situation must be real bad if they can’t provide you with decent armoury. But it’s not in issue — you work hard, you buy your supplies yourself, you slowly upgrade yourself, it’s fine really.

So you just write down all of his recommendations and fist bump him on your way out. What’s a little sting to the pride if you got the information and advice of actual demolitions expert?

You don’t notice the way Soap looks over your armoury again, muscle in his jaw twitching. He can see the patience and care it took to build up a somehow decent armoury, he can see that you scramble to get whatever you can as soon as you get any funds.

But he can also see that it’s barely enough to cover what you two talked about. He can see that no one gave you a proper training, no one gave any manuals and no one provided you with actual fucking supplies.

Soap doesn’t know how to tell you that it’s unheard of for soldiers, especially someone of you rank, to cover their bloody supplies costs themselves.

Soap doesn’t know how to tell you that the shine of Helldiver branch becomes more and more nefarious the more he hears and sees.

Soap doesn’t know how to tell it so he goes back to his team. Maybe someone else will know what to do.

[littleslaywrites]

trinkets and letters | spencer reid x reader

summary: spencer always brings you trinkets whenever he comes back from a case.

word count: 1.1k

cw: pure fluff, gift giving as a love language, letters from spencer

Everyone who knew you knew you loved trinkets. There was a space carved out on a shelf above your desk that had them all out for display. It was a collection that had started before you could remember. The first was a figure of a stork, something your parents had brought home when you were born. At every moment, you grabbed a memento, and now it had accumulated into the menagerie nestled between your bookshelves.

Spencer had noticed this habit on his first visit to your apartment. He’d looked through them during a conversation, inspecting them all. Occasionally, he’d pause his rambling to ask about how you acquired one that intrigued him. You smiled at how delicate he was, his hands gently grasping each one and running a finger along the details.

The shelf had given Spencer an idea. He hated leaving you for cases, missing you from the moment he stepped on the jet until he walked into your apartment upon his return. You were understanding, but he knew you missed him, too. One day, he was walking through the lobby of a hotel he was staying at and passed by a small gift shop. Reminded of your display, he walked in to find a miniature Statue of Liberty. He bought it, smiling at the image of it sitting next to the rest of your trinkets.

When he got back from the case, he knocked on your door, buzzing with excitement. He held the gift in his palm, fingers wrapped around it to hide it from view.

The second he opened the door, he gave you a quick kiss, blurting, “I got you something.”

“You got me something?” you asked, ignoring his lack of greeting. 

“So you know how I was in New York?”

“Yes.”

“And you know how you have your shelf?”

“Uh-huh.”

“I found your newest addition,” he said as he held out his palm. You took the little statue, holding it up with a smile that matched Spencer’s. 

Bringing it to your study, the two of you determined the perfect place for it. Spencer couldn’t stop glancing over at you, seeing the glow of your grin as you held the gift. 

From then on, it became a tradition. You loved the gifts, as they were a tangible reminder that he thought of you, even when you weren’t with him. It gave you a fuzzy feeling to think about, imagining him going out of his way to find you a memento. Spencer loved the giving, overjoyed every time he saw your giddy smile. 

One night, you heard the distinct knock on your door, and jumped off the couch. You opened the door to see Spencer’s smiling face, a comfort after a long week. Wrapping you up in his arms, he disrupts your usual routine, not giving you a gift right away.

“I did something a little different for this case”, he said, keeping an arm behind his back.

He showed you a small box, a bow tied around it. 

“They’re letters,” he said, “for when you need me but I can’t be there.”

Undoing the tie, you open it, revealing various envelopes labeled with messages. 

Open Me When You’re Sad, Open Me When You Don’t Feel Pretty, Open Me When You’re Mad at Me, Open Me When You Can’t Sleep, Open Me When You Need to Remember How Much I Love You

You beam as you look through them, and Spencer can’t help but fall in love with you all over again.

Thoughts swarm in your head, overwhelmed by his thoughtfulness. “You’re too sweet, Spence,” is all you can say through your bliss.

He replies with a kiss, carrying you to the couch so you can recount the details of your week. 

You cherished the letters, finding comfort when he wasn’t beside you. One case was far too long for your liking. Spencer had been gone for eight days now, and you couldn’t help but worry whenever he took more than ten minutes to respond to your texts. Of course, you knew he was busy, but you still worried. 

Reaching for your bedside drawer, you pull out the box of letters. You retrieve one that reads “Open Me When I’ve Been Gone for Too Long”, tearing open the envelope. 

Y/n, 

I know you must hate these long cases as much as I do. I miss you with every step I take, looking forward to when I take the step through the threshold of your apartment and into your arms. The truth is, it never gets easier. I hope you know you’re never forgotten, no matter how long I’ve been away. 

It’s not as good as the real thing, but I always use my imagination on the nights I’m not beside you in bed. I close my eyes and think of you, the way your lips twitch at the edges as you dream, the way your head rests against my chest, the warmth that lulls me to sleep. 

Do the same thing for me when you’re done reading this letter. Close your eyes, and picture me beside you, wherever you are. Even if I’m not physically there, I leave a piece of my heart with you every time I leave.

The hardest part of my job is hearing the sad tinge in your voice when I tell you I’ll be away. It breaks my heart every time, but I can’t help but think of how grateful I am to have someone I miss so much. I promise I’ll make it up to you when you get back. I’ll knock on your door, and you’ll open it to see me with another trinket in my hands. Just hold out for that moment, no matter how far it seems. 

For now, you can hold this letter close, and pretend that it’s me. Every time your heart aches, know I’m feeling the same. 

You’re my home. No matter how long it takes, I’ll always make my way back to you. 

Love, 

Spencer

You hold the letter near to your heart and remember his words. The distance can’t keep you apart, and you know Spencer is carrying you with him in his thoughts and his heart. You almost wish you had his memory, envious that he can recall any of your moments together with perfect accuracy. No matter, you had his words, which were more than enough for you. You close your eyes, eagerly awaiting the arrival of him and the newest trinket he’d carry home.

a/n: lowkey i love this concept and what do u guys think of a part two? also I know I haven't been updating as regularly since the semester just started but I'll work on being more regular as well as going thru requests :)

[ghostgirl-22]

so i actually need pt 2 to the older patrick younger art fic right NOW.. jk but it was amazing

Y’all. Y’ALL. I heard you. And though I don’t really love writing sequels… I’ll do anything for you honestly <33

Original.

It’s a mess and way too long which is prbly to be expected by now. Idk. Sometimes you just have to get out of your head and post 😭

18+ NSFW

CW: AGE GAP 10-11 years, power dynamics, teacher/student vibes, first time vibes, AND mild daddy!kink whoopsie! How did that happen? Obviously if any of these things make you uncomfortable don’t read. I don’t take it personally. I’ll explain myself a bit. Art in my imagination here didn’t get constantly shown up by Patrick and because Patrick wasn’t there Art got the attention Patrick got for his skills so he’s a little more arrogant (still a little insecure because that’s his core) and still messy. Patrick had the Tashi injury which makes him a little less arrogant (brought down a notch but still overcompensates and actively self sabotages because that’s his core) and still messy.

——

Art is still keyed up the next morning. His roommate, Devon, is bragging about hooking up with a senior. Art is trying to pay attention but all he can think about is how he got on his knees and gave messy head to Patrick, Coach Zweig, his 31 year old ridiculously hot tennis coach. And how Patrick practically promised to fuck him if he was a really good boy all week. He’s sitting on his hands trying not to go crazy.

“What did you get up to?” Devon finally asks him. Picking up his towel and getting ready to shower.

“Can you keep a secret?” Art asks.

That makes him sit back down. “Yeah of course.”

Art tells him about Patrick, most of it anyway, watching his eyes widen. He’s not on the tennis team but he’s heard enough about Coach Zweig from Art that he can’t help giggling.

“You’re fucking joking.”

“I’m not, I swear.”

“Holy shit. And I thought I was doing something with that senior. Wow. This would only happen to you.”

Art isn’t sure what he means by that but he’s suddenly asking a million questions. Art tells him some things, embellishing and withholding various details. The closest Art ever came to actually fucking a boy was when he used to sneak in Devon’s bed whenever he got horny at night. They were so close to fucking when Art made him stop. so he made Art promise to stop leading him on. And now they’re proper roommates with boundaries and everything. Though sometimes Art thinks if he asked for it Devon would still fuck him.

Devon thinks it’s hot, the whole Patrick thing. Thinks Patrick wants to make Art his kept boy. “Well I mean… he’s old and everyone says he’s loaded, right? He can give you whatever you want.” Devon says.

“Please, he wouldn’t even give me his phone number.” Art says dismissively. “And I don’t need to be kept I just need his dick.”

Devon chews his bottom lip looking Art over and Art wonders if he crossed a boundary. He’s so fucking messy with them.

“Lucky him,” Devon says dryly, rolling his eyes. “But maybe you should milk it. You’re young and beautiful and blonde and he’s your coach so it’s like.. it’s kind of illicit. He could get you a nice place off campus… be your sugar daddy. Girls do it all the time.”

“I think he’d kill me if I ever called him that,” Art laughs, making up his mind to definitely call him that at some point.

Devon agrees to come out with him next weekend but he still has to wait the whole fucking week. It feels like torture.

They have practice everyday and a game on Friday. Which means Patrick’s in those short shorts running them around the court every single day. Art can’t keep his mind off of him. Just wants his attention so bad, everyday he’s doing everything he can just to get Patrick to look in his direction. But Patrick’s got an epic poker face. He’s so fucking cool and calm and collected. So good at acting like nothing happened. Like everything is the same and they never did what they did.

There's one difference. Instead of having the assistant coach do it… he’ll bring Art to the side and personally correct him when he thinks Art could play better. Show him how to position himself, swing the racket, follow through. Big hands, rough hands, gripping Art's waist to turn his body, his wrist to direct his swing. The same hands that effortlessly lifted off his lap the other night.

“Can’t be all talk and no action sweetheart,” Patrick says lightly, as he’s standing behind him. God. It’s actually stupid how sexy he is. Art’s never thought this much about being penetrated, ever. He makes sure to arch his back just a little more than he usually does. Patrick presses a hand to the small of his back.

Art fingers the grip of his racket. “I don’t think I was all talk.”

Patrick chuckles, low and soft. “Stop it. Focus. Bring that energy here,” he says, “all that confidence right here and no one will rattle you.”

“Like this?” Art demonstrates. He makes a mess of it just so that Patrick will touch him again. It takes a minute before Patrick catches on.

“I think you get it,” he says dryly.

“Please show me one more time. I just wanna be a good boy for you,” Art says lightly. It makes Patrick swallow… his gaze falls helplessly over Arts body and then he looks away smirking.

“Are you having fun?” He says, leaning in close, eyes all crinkly with amusement.

Art wants to kiss him. “Mmhm,” he hums, pressing his lips together. “Though sometimes it still feels like my mouth is so full of you I could just… choke.”

“Yeah… right…” Patrick rolls his eyes, still smiling and then he takes a deep breath and drags his hand over his beard. “Hm…What’s today?”

“Wednesday,” Art says.

“And my plans for the weekend are still up in the air,” he says, patting Art on the shoulder as he takes his racket and turns to face the team. “Five laps around the court, everybody, let’s gooo!” He says loudly, blowing his whistle. “Fucking hustle!”

There’s an audible groan and the sounds of rackets dropping as everyone stops what they’re doing and starts running. “Go join them. And if you keep it up it’ll be sprints next.” Patrick says softly.

Art grins, as much as he hates running and he’s sure his teammates will assume he’s responsible for this bit of conditioning, it was still totally fucking worth it.

He probably should’ve focused more but he wins on Friday in spite of himself. Tennis is such a mental game and while he’s generally confident and loves the attention that comes with playing as number one on the center stage, he’s not consistent. That’s what Patrick always says at least. There are opponents that leave him feeling less sure of himself and then he tends to get in his head imagining he’s somehow inadequate or deficient.

One of those players is a French recruit from UCLA, Jensen Bordeaux. Art starts out strong. Crushes it in the first set. But when Bordeaux fights back in the second and he falls apart a little. It’s a bad habit. He wins another game but it’s not enough. He ends up nearly going into a third set.

“Remember what I said,” Patrick takes him to the side between points. “Stop acting like you can’t finish him off. You can have whatever you want right?”

Art gazes at him and bites his lip. “Mmhm.” He nods.

“Good. You know what you want. Just take it. Okay?”

“Yeah okay,” Art says breathlessly.

“Good boy,” Patrick says, rubbing his shoulders, a little smirk on his lips. “Try not to… you know… choke.”

Art feels heated from the inside out. He goes back on the court except he’s not thinking about the game. Instead he’s so anxious for the promise of tomorrow night that all this begins to feel like a mere obstacle to that. He makes easy work of it, winning the tiebreaker and shifting it so that Stanford goes home the winning team.

Everyone on the team goes out to a frat party to celebrate and Art is so drunk and horny by the end of the night. He stumbles into his dorm at 1 am, falls drunkenly into bed and starts touching himself. Fingers in his mouth imagining it’s the heavy weight and thickness of Patrick’s cock. Imagining Patrick’s large hands in his hair, imagining the soft, easily amused tone of his voice as he murmurs. “Good boy.” Makes him come so fast and hard he passes out.

He’s a mess in the morning. In more ways than one. They don’t have practice after game days so he sleeps off his hangover and the day flies by. He takes a long hot shower before he gets ready to go. Anxiety and anticipation competing for space in his brain and body. Devon loans him clothes that are so much tighter than anything he wears regularly. “Trust me, he’s gonna be all over you in this.”

They get there at the same time as last week but Patrick doesn’t come right away. Art’s waiting and waiting and waiting for Patrick to show up at the gay bar. Devon is at a table, a new boy on his lap and they’re making out. Art is half tipsy, swinging his legs on a barstool while this guy from the baseball team stands between his thighs asking him everything about tennis like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. And that’s when Patrick finally arrives. He spots Art across the bar and smirks. Art gets up right away, making excuses to the now frowning baseball player about seeing him around on campus.

“That was fast,” Patrick smirks, as Art sidles up next to him.

“Well I didn’t know you’d take so long to come,” Art says, moving closer. “Is that an old person thing?”

”Mm, you…” Patrick chuckles, tapping his credit card on the bar. He’s got such a great smile. God. Art is so far gone. This is tragic.

“Can you buy me a drink?” Art asks in his ear.

“No fucking way,” Patrick says, amused.

“Seriously?”

“Seriously, how many drinks have you had tonight?”

Art holds up 3 fingers.

“Is that how many fingers I’m gonna have to put in before I can… nevermind…” Patrick says.

Art grins. Warmth spreading throughout his body. “It’s really big,” Art whispers. “Maybe you need four?”

“God…” Patrick laughs, incredulous. “I shouldn’t even fucking be here.” He sighs, as the bartender approaches them. He orders a whiskey and because it’s two for one he gives in and lets Art pick something. He orders rum and coke.

Art feels giddy as he sips on it.

“So used to getting whatever you ask for,” Patrick says, looking him over, teasing a finger into one of his belt loops. “Twenty years old. God. You make me fucking crazy.” He whispers in Art’s ear.

Art can’t help grinning.

Patrick makes him wait while he talks to people his own age. Acting all wholesome. “Oh he’s just one of my players, I’m gonna make sure he gets home safe.” He even gives Art the key so he can wait in his jeep. Art’s hard as soon as he gets in it. Listens to music too loud and ponders touching himself.

He’s kissing on Patrick right away when he finally gets in the car. He’s been so eager all week. “Mm…” Patrick pulls back, tangling his fingers into Art’s hair. “Fuck… gimme a minute to get you home, okay?” he says and he turns on the engine and puts the music back at a sensible volume.

“Is it far?” Art asks.

Patrick huffs a laugh. “Take a deep breath.”

It doesn't help. Everything smells like him. Art puts a hand on Patrick’s thigh, his skin is so heated. He remembers how warm Patrick’s cock felt in his mouth and then his mouth starts watering.

“Is Tashi there?” Art sighs.

“What do you fucking think?”

Art leans close, just breathing him in. Resting his head on Patrick’s shoulder. ”She’s so pretty.” He hums.

“I know.”

“You’re so pretty.”

Patrick chuckles, a low vibration Art can feel from his throat that makes him shiver. “And you're so tipsy. And so fucking young.”

“But you like it.” Art says softly, rubbing Patrick’s thigh. Skin so warm he’s like a furnace. Already hard enough that Art can feel it.

”And I know I’m gonna regret it.”

Their house is actually huge. On the nicer side of Palo Alto. It’s one of the ones with a pool and a tennis court and a crazy nice view of the city. Art doesn’t know any of this until later because as soon as they're inside he’s trying to get his tongue in Patrick’s mouth. Patrick walks him back towards the living room where there’s a huge leather sofa. Art climbs onto his lap as soon as he sits down. Patrick is touching him everywhere, fingers tangled into his hair. Hands under his shirt, rubbing him, teasing him. Art is just trying his best to feel him, lick into his mouth and taste him. All while grinding against his prominent bulge. Grabbing at his zipper trying to get it out.

“Can you fuck me?” Art begs against his lips.

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes against his lips, he’s gripping Art’s waist tightly. Slowing him down. He sighs like he’s trying to pull himself together. “Mmkay. God. Stand up a minute. I need to get a condom and some lube.”

Art gets up reluctantly, nervous energy making him bounce on his toes like he’s waiting on a serve. Patrick smirks, “Relax… I’ll be back in a minute.” He pats Art’s shoulder as he gets up and disappears into another room. It doesn’t matter whether Art sits or stands, he’s anxious. He looks around the lavish room, fancy furniture, paintings that look expensive. Massive kitchen like the kind you see in movies. Patrick comes back and he’s all loose, t-shirt wrinkled, hair messy, eyes soft. He’s probably done this a million times. He’s got a condom between his fingers which he hands to Art.

“You wanna put it on me?”

”Mmhm,” Art says. He’s also carrying a little bottle of lube. Art’s trying to rip the packet open but his hands are all shaky. Especially when Patrick lifts his t-shirt off, he’s so solid, strong biceps, chest hair that gets darker condensed down the line of his stomach to where his jeans are unbuttoned. Art wants to lick it.

“Okay,” Patrick settles on the sofa, kicking off his shoes. “Give me that, you pretty little virgin and take those clothes off.”

Art hands him the condom a little embarrassed, and starts undoing his jeans. Kicks off his shoes and peels off his shirt so he’s only in boxers. Patrick bites open the packet and eases his jeans down and his cock out. Art takes shallow breaths watching him roll the condom on. It’s so big the condom is a magnum size and it fits snug. He’s heard horror stories about first times, even read a few on Reddit and he’s starting to feel a little panicked.

”Look at you.” Patrick says softly, eyes dragging slowly down Arts body. He pulls Art onto his thighs, god he has thick muscular thighs, Art can’t help wiggling. Patrick’s got him close so their cocks line up, and his palm is covered in lube and he’s gripping them both at the same time. It feels so fucking good Art thinks he might come too fast. He’s moaning, eyes squeezed shut when Patrick stops. Art opens his eyes to see Patrick wetting his fingers with more lube and slips a thick calloused finger back along Art’s entrance. Art feels himself seizing up as Patrick presses slowly inside.

“Take deep breaths,” Patrick whispers. Advice Art tries to follow but it just feels so crazy. He eases another finger in and Art tenses even more.

“Mm if your so fucking tight, I can’t fuck you sweetheart.”

“Does it hurt?” Art whispers.

Patrick takes a breath. “Yeah a little at first… but I think I can make it feel a little…uh better…”

Art shivers, his body suddenly overrun by pleasure as Patrick’s teasing his fingertips deep inside him. Art can hear himself moaning voice suddenly pitched so high he barely recognizes it. “Please… please… “he begs. “Please fuck me… fuck me… fuck me daddy.” Art gasps, losing himself as he’s riding the sensation.

“Fuck… what did you call me?” Patrick whispers.

Art bites his lip, his body heating up immediately with embarrassment. “Mm sorry. I didn’t… I didn’t mean to… I meant like sugar…” He says softly as Patrick slowly pulls his fingertips out. Art is breathless. Patrick doesn’t look mad but his expression has gone heady.

“Fuck… I can be daddy if you need it,” Patrick breathes. “Come…sit on daddy’s dick. Holy shit. What are you doing to me?”

Art swallows, his stomach doing flip flops for the way Patrick says it. He sits up on his knees, he can feel Patrick lining up. It actually feels like a lot. Like way too much. Impossible to take. He’s got his eyes squeezed shut and watering feeling the insane stretch as he sinks so fucking slowly down on it.

“Oh god,” he keeps whispering over and over like a prayer.

“Fuck,” Patrick breathes. His hands gripping Art’s waist.

He’s anxious moving slowly, gripping tightly, it’s too much, he’s too full. And Patrick starts to adjust him while gently rubbing his tummy. “Relax… lets try this angle,” Patrick whispers. Fucking into him in a way that he starts hitting that pleasure spot deep inside with even more intensity. “Good… good boy…that’s right…breathe… breathe… keep breathing… fuck…” Patrick coaches. And then slowly as it happens Art is moaning, bouncing on his lap just to feel it hit over and over and over and over again.

“I wanna… mmm I like it so much. wanna do it all the time,” Art moans nonsensically as he’s riding, not sure what’s happening, just that he’s seeing stars. “I wanna fuck you all the time. All the fucking time. wanna fuck you at school… during practice. In your bed. Wanna be your boy toy. Play with your big dick. Fuck me, oh fuck… fuck me daddy, daddy please. It feels so fucking good.”

“Jesus,” Patrick groans he barely grips Art’s cock and he’s coming loudly, spurts of it covering Patrick’s chest and his own. He can feel Patrick still pressing up into him, it suddenly feels like way too much. Every movement making him shake with how sensitive it feels and then Patrick stills, swearing over and over, gripping Art’s body tight and burying himself deep. Low gravelly sounds against Art’s ear.

”Fuck,” Patrick gasps, breathlessly. “Oh… god. You’re so… fuck I’m so screwed.”

“Mm,” Art collapses against his chest, running his fingers down Patricks soft chest hair all painted with his jizz. His knees are all sweaty and sticking to the leather but he doesn’t really care. He just wants to be close. Patrick is gently rubbing his lower back and it feels amazing. Art can feel him softening and slowly slipping out of him, he thinks he might fall asleep like this.

“You okay?” Patrick asks.

”Mmhm,” Art says.

“You sure?”

”Yeah. Can we do it again?”

“God,” Patrick laughs. “I need at least five minutes and I need you to get up cause I gotta piss.”

“No,” Art whines, unhappy about anything that means he won’t be warmed by Patrick's body heat even for a second. He wraps his arms around Patrick’s shoulders.

Patrick chuckles. “I can’t go anywhere?”

“No,” Art says. “You’re my pillow.”

“Guess I fucked your virgin ass good,” Patrick says.

“For an old guy,” Art says softly, smiling against Patrick’s throat.

“For your daddy, you little freak…” Patrick says gently, squeezing his ass. “Come on, get up or we’re gonna have a bigger mess to clean up.”

Art groans and unwraps his arms. “Can I come?”

“To piss?” Patrick raises his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Art nods.

Patrick smirks and rolls his eyes before gently curling his fingers into Arts hair. “Yeah sure, come on.”

Art kisses him and he sighs into Arts mouth. “I need a fucking cigarette too.”

“Can I stay over?” Art asks against his lips.

“Mm…” he ponders and sighs. “Fuck it I don’t know why I bother pretending to set boundaries with you…” he says, helping Art to his shaky feet. “Tashi will be home tomorrow afternoon. So you know… better not sleep too late.”

Art grins at him. “Does she know about me?”

“Does she know that after I finally got a good job as a tennis coach at my old school that I’m this close to losing it because I can’t help fucking my barely legal 20 year old star player? No actually. She doesn’t know.” He says dryly.

Art laughs. “I wouldn’t tell. But I mean imagine if I slept with you both. I’d learn so much about tennis.“

Patrick snorts, “This kinda talk is gonna make me take you home tonight actually…”

“Mm too late. You let me call you daddy,” Art grins. “You’re never getting rid of me.”

[eldizzle69]

“To Disappear from here”

part one | two | three | four | five | six | seven

masterlist

including :: frostheim

Or…a collection of your last moments together, and what happens after your gone.

One week. One week until the one year anniversary of you coming to Darkwick Academy. There's also just one week until the day you turn into an anomaly fully.

You think you’ve accepted it, you think you’ve come to terms with changing. But looking back, it hurts to leave so much sooner than anticipated. And you wonder if there was anything you could have done to change things. What if you hadn’t been on that train? What if your favorite group hadn’t disbanded?

What if the others had done a little more to save you?

You don’t blame them, you try not to. This was just an unfortunate experience, and an unfortunate end for you.

It was complicated, the relationships you had built with the ghouls of this school. But it clearly wasn’t enough for them to want to try and little harder to save you.

So with the last week of your life, you spend it away from all of them, spending the time for yourself, writing letters and getting all the things you never got to say out of the way.

Laying down for the last time you close your eyes, knowing you’d never wake up as yourself again.

FROSTHEIM

—jin kamurai

your last moments together

“Don't be stupid," Jin said roughly, followed by a yawn. Fluffing up the couch pillows you rolled you eyes. that was a response you had seen coming from a mile away.

"I'm serious Jin, i can't wake you up anymore," you said hands resting on your hips, hoping to get your point across.

Jin didn't get up from his bed, instead he cracked on eye open to look at you disapprovingly. "Waking me up every morning was your idea, so I'd better see you here tomorrow too. That's an order." you stifled a laugh. had it been the old you, you might have been scared by his words, but not anymore.

Trudging over to his bed you plopped down besides him, nudging his arm with your head. "Get your shoes off my bed," he grumbled and you laugh. "Already took them off."

Silently, Jin wrapped an arm around you, pulling you into his side. Mumbling something about you being quiet he closed his eyes. But you couldn't sleep, you had been having sleeping problems for a while now. Your impending doom weighing too heavily on your shoulders for you to properly rest.

Maybe Jin's warmth would bring you some peace, maybe now you could actually close your eyes soundly.

after it’s all over

A groan escaped Jin’s lips. Opening his eyes he glanced down at the crumpled paper laying on his chest.

You were a fool.

Usually servants were obedient, not going where they weren’t given permission to go. So what made you so different? What made you think you could go off and die? He had long accepted it, he thought. He knew your time was limited, and he reminded himself of that time and time again as he felt himself grow more fond of you.

Lighting a cigarette Jin could only stare at the ceiling. There was dust on the curtains, and his bed needed to be made. So where were you? He asked himself even though he knew the answer.

He also knew there was more he could have done. There was wishful thinking that some of the other ghouls would help you, that he wouldn’t have to lift a finger. He wasn’t one to blame himself, but he acknowledged that he and the others were at fault. He had consciously chosen to not help you actively, he had chosen to let you die.

So why? Why were your final words to him so sweet? How could you leave him a letter filled with anything but hateful words? It pissed him off.

He wanted you to hate him, curse at him and wish horrible things upon him.

But you’d never do that, and your letter filled with sugary words made that clear. And your words would taunt him for just as long as your memory would.

—tohma ishibashi

your last moments together

A sigh left you as you plopped down in a heavy bench in Frostheim. Running around and doing various tasks for others seemed to take more out of you than you had anticipated for the day.

“You seem a bit overwhelmed,” said the familiar voice that seemed close by. Looking up you were met with the piercing eyes of Tohma. You gave a tired smile and only nodded. At his words, it finally settled in you body how tired you were. “Good health is a treasure, you do best to acknowledge this.” There was no bite in his words, instead there was a caring tone he rarely took.

Before you knew it he stood directly in front of you. “Please don’t overexert yourself. There are many people here who need you.”

That made you freeze. Because you wondered, what would they do without you? If they really did need you. But that was an easy thought to push aside. They had live before you were in their lives, and they would continue to live after you were gone.

Looking back up at Tohma you gave him a smile. “I’ll do my best,” you said simply.

“Come with me,” Tohma hummed turning around, expecting you to follow, “I’ll brew us some tea.”

after it’s all over

Lately, Thoma had been working late into the night. He spent many hours simply going through paperwork, running errands, and taking care of appearances in front of his dorm mates. Before he even knows it, night creeps up on him, engulfing the halls of frostheim. He also found a habit of looking up at the stars.

He used to laugh when people would say the stars were looking over them. But somehow he wonders if you had become one of those stars. If just maybe you had been looking down at him.

That’s what you had promised him after all. In your last letter to him you wrote about how you’d always be there, always watching. If the circumstances had been different he would have found it strange, but knowing what happened, how you ended up, it brought him some comfort.

Trudging out of his bathroom he sat on the bed and opened his bedside table. He took the letter out and gently flipped through it. Your last words ringing in his head. And they would continue to do so for a long time.

—kaito fuji

your last moments together

"God, please don't make me go on anymore missions..." He begged with a groan when he saw you getting close to him with a mission paper in hand. "Kaito," you called out sternly and he only shook his head.

"It's not like me being there is any help to anyone anyway..." He added on soon after to try and argue against you. Instead of your words, however, he was met with silence. Looking up, he was met with your tear eyes and mad face.

"(N-name)?!" He almost shouted in shock, "I'm sorry! I'll go! Please don't cry! there there...." He tried to sooth you but your expression never changed, you were mad at him.

"How could you say that about yourself?" you blubbered, "I hate when you say stuff like that!" Kaito froze, shock taking over his face as his own eyes watered.

"You’re so nice," he blubbered back, his own tears crowding his vision. And then there were no more words said between the two of you, only tears and hugging.

after it’s all over

Kaito's voice was hoarse and his eyes stung. He can't tell you how long he had been crying. Hours? yes. Day? yes. How many days? he couldn't tell you.

Not even his neighbors minded. Usually they'd come banging on his door telling him to be quiet. But they knew what had happened, he knew he was grieving.

Your letter to him was left on his desk, unopened and left there. He couldn’t bring himself to open it, what good things could you have to say to him? The one thing he did best was run away. He was a coward, he knew this, he could accept this. What he couldn’t understand was how you looked at him in such a good light. How could you think so much of him?

What he feared most was your disapproval. He was scared that your opinion would have changed. He greedily wanted you to keep thinking of him in a good light. He never wanted that to change.

So he couldn’t bring himself to read what you had wrote to him. He would keep crying in his ignorance, still believing that you thought highly of him.

—lucas errant

your last moments together

Peaceful moments were hard to come by in your day to day life. Missions after missions, ghouls after ghouls. There was very little time for you. So moments like these were treasured.

The wind blew through your hair, the sudden coldness making you shiver. “Are you cold?” Came the question from Luca, who looked at you with a concerned expression. “I’m alright,” you said before the two of you were engulfed in a comfortable silence. Your walk together being more calming than either of you had expected.

Glancing at Luca you saw him in deep thought, “penny for your thoughts?”

Luca only smiled and shook his head, “I was just thinking,” he began, stopping his walking.

“We have experienced many joys and sorrows together since becoming friends,” he spoke, tugging at your heart strings, “I’m very glad we met. I look forward to walking the road ahead with you.”

He said this all with a smile, but you couldn’t bring yourself to return it.

“(name)?” He questioned with a slight panic in his eyes, “did I upset you? I’m sorry—“

“You didn’t upset me,” you said softly in a shaky voice, realizing suddenly that you were crying. “Excuse me Luca,” you said before bringing the boy into a tight hug, which he returned after a moment of stiff stillness.

You couldn’t promise him you’d walk the road ahead with him. You couldn’t lie to him.

But you could forgive him.

after it’s all over

Luca had failed time and time again to protect the things close to him. It seemed to become a bad habit for him. Vaguely he wondered back to when you guys first met, and he wished he could go back. He wishes he could go back and fulfill his promise to protect you and cure you.

But now, as he’s sat in his room with his head buried in his hands. Thoughts raced through his head and suddenly he realized that, just like you that time, he had been crying. Moving the paper off his lap to protect it from his tears he silently let his tears fall.

He didn't even think he deserved to cry over you, but he couldn't help it. He had promised you he would help you return to normal, and here he was, without you.

And despite his mediocre efforts, you forgave him. In your last words to him you forgave him for not saving you. That brought him no comfort, instead it worsened the guilt eating away in his chest.

Once again, he had failed to protect what was dear to him.

[illubean]

Savior of the Sea

Prince!Gojo x Mermaid!Reader!

Characters: Satoru Gojo Type: Fantasy!AU (?), Fem!Reader

had a thought and had to write it

Warnings: attempted murder/drowning

Being royal wasn't as luxurious as it was made out to be. It came with tons of responsibilities. Satoru constantly had to keep up this posh, pristine reputation all while managing armies, collecting taxes and attending stupid lessons like court etiquette or horseback riding. Satoru never asked to be born into the royal family, and at times like these he wished that he were the same as any other commonfolk. He wished there wasn't someone always looming over his shoulder watching every move he ever makes. Everyone seemed to steer clear of the Gojos, not appreciating the attitude of the elders nor the feeling of being looked down upon. Though he was nothing like them, Satoru was lumped with the rest of the family, often receiving nasty looks of distain as he walked the streets of the village.

Seeking solace from everyone's overwhelming gazes and expectations, Satoru would often make his way down to the beach at night. It was quiet, away from the high life and gave him space to just be. This was a regular occurrence; nearly every night he would sneak out the balcony of his quarters around 10 pm and make his way to sit on the sands, listening to the lulling hush of waves caressing the shore.

Little did he know that even in his safe haven, Satoru was still being watched.

Further into the navy waters, you peeked around a rock, observing the human that had managed to catch your attention. Your elders had warned you about this, telling you to never go up to the surface as well as to never be spotted by a human. There were too many dangers awaiting on shore, and many of your people just as stubborn as you have the scars to prove it. Despite this, you didn't pay much mind to their warnings, exploring and inevitably stumbling upon the gorgeous land creature.

He was like nothing you had ever seen before, his milky skin looking soft to the touch. From the snowy tufts of his hair to his electric blue eyes, his entire being enticed you. You wanted nothing more but to just touch and feel him; curious as to how different humans actually were from marine life. Curious as to how he got around without a tail.

Deciding not to be entirely reckless though, you kept your distance and simply watched the man from afar. You watched as he lied on the sand, sometimes splash in the shallower waters or you sometimes even got to listen to him hum to himself.

A few days of this had passed, your human making his way to the shore while you swam up to the surface, ensuring that you remained unseen while you observed from behind your rock. One night though, you human was nowhere to be seen. Confused, you waited around for a while in hopes that he would still show up. Maybe he's not coming because it's windy. Deciding it was no use, you pushed yourself away from the rock preparing to swim back home until you heard commotion coming from the docks not far off.

Curiosity got the better of you as you quickly swam towards the noise, using your arms to climb up the posts of the dock and peeking your eyes just barely above the wooden platform. People where yelling and scurrying into their homes, slamming and locking their doors as some seemingly larger humans made their way through the town. In the middle of the commotion, there was a buff man with black hair and tattered clothes. You gasped as he turned around, seeing him wrangling your human into his stronghold.

"Hurry and get him on the ship!" a gruff voice spoke from above you. Startled, you quickly dip yourself back into the water and put some distance between you and the dock. Upon resurfacing, you now pay attention to the large boat stationed along the wooden platform, and you watched as Satoru struggled as he was being dragged aboard, the black haired man from before as well as a man with pink hair and some others.

The ship reeled in its anchor and began to take off once again. Concerned for the particular man who had caught your eye all those days ago, you quickly swam and attempted to keep pace with the ship. The ship continued to sail for quite some time before the crew abruptly tossed the anchor back over the edge, narrowly missing you as your swimming came to a halt.

A long, wooden plank was then set over the edge of the boat, while all the men gathered and your human stood before them. He was chained up and stripped of all of his belongings, save for his undergarments, while all the others had their weapons drawn.

"Tch, ye’d think the esteemed prince would be havin’ more loot on him than he did."

"No matter. I be wonderin’ how riled up them prissy royals’ll be once they catch wind that their golden lad be slain!"

Never did Satoru ever think he'd find himself in this position. It was true that the Gojo family had some enemies, but he was confident enough in his abilities that he would be able to defend himself.

Well, maybe not when he's caught off guard by a pirate raid.

To be one hundred precent honest, Satoru was more embarrassed than anything. He managed to get kidnapped and chained up by pirates, and he was practically naked. Maybe it was easier just to accept death at this point, instead of by some miracle living with the shame of being caught like this.

"Go on! Walk the plank!"

"Don't have to tell me twice."

Without even fully walking to the edge, Satoru jumps down into the water while the heavy chains weighed him down.

I guess it's just my time. Why fight it?

His body continued to sink down, down, down as he reminisced on his short life. He thought of all the times he'd sneak out of his lessons to go play with wooden swords in the courtyard, laughing with his one childhood friend Suguru as they rolled around in the grass, The fun was always short lived though, his teachers always hunting him down and dragging him back to his studies.

Things were always like this for him, and he supposed now he would finally be free. As he settled on the bottom of the sea floor, Satoru closed his eyes and let go of the little breath he had left. This was the end for him.

Or not!?

Suddenly, he felt a swift movement in the water around him, then a cool pressure on the side of his cheeks. Opening his eyes, he comes face to face with you. Your cold, webbed hands were holding his head in place before your lips were suddenly on his.

Satoru's eyes nearly popped out of his skull, not believing his eyes. Your skin had a blueish tint to it, your torso looking much like a human woman's while your hair floated in the water around you. His eyes trailed down to find a long, iridescent tail swaying beneath you. Suddenly, he realized he was breathing just fine.

What the hell is going on.

Before he could even attempt to say anything (even though it wouldn't be very effective underwater), your figure bolted off at incredible speed. You returned nearly as quickly as you left, now holding two sizeable rocks in your hands and...a dead fish in your mouth?

Taking the two rocks, you smashed them around the padlock holding the chains snug around his body, before discarding them and taking the fish from your mouth then shoving it into his own. Unwrapping the chains from around his body, you hooked your arms underneath his own and brought him back to the surface.

Once his head was above water, Satoru grabbed the fish you had so lovingly gifted him, spit a few times then took a deep breath. You stared at him with a wide grin plastered across your face while your arms stayed wrapped around him, tail swishing back and forth beneath you to keep you afloat.

"Uh...hi," Satoru said, not knowing how to react in this situation. You nuzzled your face against his own, slick skin effortlessly sliding against his. Turning yourself over onto your back, you rested the man on top of your chest much like an otter does to it's young, lazily moving your tail as you drifted around.

"I guess you don't speak. That checks out, especially since y'know...you're not really supposed to exist," the ivory haired male mumbled, mostly to himself. He rested against you lazily, not really having a choice. After a few beats of silence, Satoru heard an oddly soothing chitter rumble from inside your chest. The sound was resemblant of a purr or some kind of song, eventually lulling the man to sleep.

Satoru slowly blinked awake, feeling the warm rays of the morning sun beating against him. He sat up, feeling the sticky salt from the sea against his skin as the sun seemed to just be rising.

Was everything that happened just a dream?

Looking around, not much seemed to be out of place. The beach was just as peaceful as he remembered and the docks seemed relatively unbothered. It wasn't until he looked down and felt the sand that coated his back did he realize yup, everything was definitely real.

Scratching the back of his head, he looked out onto the horizon as the ocean glimmered in the sunrise. He wonders where you are now. Getting up, he dusted himself off before feeling something fall from the waistband of his knickers.

Looking down, he finds a large scale, shining different shades of blues, purples and greens as he looked at it.

He would definitely never forget you. His savior of the sea.

[fairestbeard]

Carmy Dressing Up Syd

What's the theory?

The story is mostly told from Carmy's point of view. So the ambience of the show is mostly subjective to Carmy's thought process. Sydney, being the object of his affection, is also presented through Carmy's eyes- at least the way she presents in his presence. I'll explain.

-Fans have identified that when she meets him, she is wearing Thom Browne, who is a designer he is theorized to admire a lot.

We know he got into cooking through his love for his brother but it has also been revealed (in his conversations with Claire- where I might add, that he didn't even notice the love of his life was sitting behind him. Interesting!) that he drew clothing designs when he was younger which suggests that at some point he may have considered being a fashion designer. We see how he connects to that desire by collecting and trading vintage denim as an outlet for that interest. The blue apron he choses for them in the restaurant also just so happens to be denim.

-Sydney is his muse. Whatever turn their relationship takes, we know that much. Also, we know Syd is kind of poor and likely unable to afford designer clothing. She's very resourceful so she might be good at thrift shopping for clothes she wouldn't be able to afford of the racks. They could also be from better times when she could actually afford them (having a business that failed literally from too much success?).

But what are the odds that this random person who walks into his life somehow dresses in the designer he likes? It is very plausible that she in actuality had a bunch of Thom Brownes and he recalls her mostly in them because when you like someone you notice the things that connect them to you and always connect them with the things you love.

Carmy's transference

It all started here!

Carmy was so distraught at Syd leaving that it affected his whole demeanor. He wasn't as energetic and as annoying (according to Tina) as he usually was. He seemed like he couldn't care less any more and was just going through the motions. It was so noticeable that Tina had to reach out to him and that's where it happens.

He had already seen her in the new apron at the pre-shift meeting. You could notice where he gives her a once over while she was talking to him then. But it was when she came to his office door that he really sees it because that was a thing Sydney did. This is where he first projects Sydney unto someone else to give himself comfort.

He had very much gotten used to her showing up at his office door for one reason or the other every day. So he must have found the image of Tina at his door in those aprons (remember Syd was the first person he gave them to and he gave her the one that was hanging in his apartment, I might add)- a little comforting to him and it gave him a smidge of happy nostalgia. So touched was he about that moment that he gives Tina the day off to rest.

Sydney through Carmy's eyes

While he begins to get closer to her and tries to make sense of their relationship, you also see that reflected in her appearance.

-she is dressed like him when they get to know each other better and trade career stories

-she is dressed like Fak when he contemplates who his best friend really is

His erotic transfer

This transference also comes into play when he meets Claire again and it has been brought to light by a number of fans here. I think @chefkids especially wrote extensively about this. We see Claire appearing in many ways that can be linked to Syd:

* Claire in a green jacket

* Claire in a jacket that resembles a UPS driver's while delivering mail, routing through Sheridan road

* Claire in a denim jacket

* Claire in blue and white.

Claire is someone he was known to desire in the past and who everyone has told him he wants and should be with. Suddenly here she is in front of him obviously desiring him back. And as Nat said in her monologue, who doesn't want easy? Who doesn't want to just be ok? His relationship with Syd is very complicated and delicate. It's risky and could ruin everything if it goes wrong. So he solves his desire for companionship and his desire for Syd by projecting Syd unto this woman who is clearly into him and who he knows he has been into and could still. That's why he takes her to the restaurant before he kisses her, to simulate that feeling. He probably had imagined kissing Syd in there too. That's why he made the infamous infidelity pasta. That's why he discusses the menu and fire suppression exam with Claire. He needed to find a way to connect the two.

Now this transference starts seeping back to Syd as well. We see her wearing something similar to a doctor's coat and literally handing him, of all things, medication on the day he decides whether his doctor lady friend is his girlfriend. Syd also starts wearing white tees after he sees Claire in his white tee.

At the crux of season two he literally purchases a $2000 outfit for her to wear, different from the rest of the team, directly dressing her up.

S3 is where Carmy reviews his life as a chef and has to decide what kind of chef and person he needs to be and we see that reflected on Syd as well. She starts appearing in more polka dot mirroring the chef who had had the most positive impact on Carmy - not only working with compassion and patience but also gently pushing Carmy forward career wise - Chef Terry. This is important because Syd reminds him of Chef Terry with the way she handles things with compassion and patience while also striving to push things forward. Carmy would be stagnant without Syd, even if he had opened those cans in the first episode. Syd is Carmy's muse, his inspiration and in many ways his leader.

Syd is also seen wearing short pants which he said he had been interested in designing when he was younger.

Another thing I noticed and find very interesting is Syd's reaction to him noticing her clothes. She's never passive when he comments on what she's wearing. In Omelette when he notices the stains on her whites she immediately takes it off because he noticed something negative. Also in Legacy when he says she looks nice she immediately takes off the thing that brings the outfit together (the bow hair clip), probably because the reason she was dressed up in the first place is something he wouldn't approve of?

Also, it could be alluding to his secret desire to see her in a state of undress.

Sydney has become the lens in which he views his world. The man needs that cookie so very badly on a spiritual, metaphysical level.

[nameless-jamie]

Binged the PA reader x Jamie tartt and wondering how she dealt with him in the episode where Roy attached strings to each of them

Strings

Masterlist

Jamie Tartt x fem! PA reader

A/N: I love this idea! Let's see, I hope I did your vision justice.

TW: vulgar language

AFC Richmond’s training sessions had always been weird, but this? This was a new level.

Jamie stood in the middle of the pitch, hands on his hips, watching his teammates squirm uncomfortably. Every single one of them—him included—had a string tied around their, well, bits.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

Y/N stood a few meters away from the team beside Ted and Roy, arms crossed, staring at the absolute disaster unfolding before her.

That was the curse of being Jamie Tartt’s personal assistant. Sure, most of the job involved handling his schedule, making sure he showed up to meetings, and ensuring his expensive, ridiculous skincare routine didn’t run out of products he insisted were life-changing. But it also meant this. Standing on the pitch, watching him do unbelievably stupid things, and making sure he lived to see another day.

“Now, I know this looks a little unusual,” Ted was saying, “but in Japanese culture, they have a myth that all soulmates are connected by an invisible red string. And those strings are attached to each of their little fingers.”

Jamie looked confused and asked. "Ok, but why is it tied around our dicks then?"

"Yeah, well, you know, that was Roy's idea actually..." Ted grinned pointing at the latter, who looked rather pleased with himself.

Y/N, standing at Roy's side, tried very, very hard not to laugh.

And Jamie, of course, had the biggest smirk on his face.

“Gotta say, coach, this is a new one,” he said, grinning. “What’s next? Gonna tie us all together by our nipples?”

“I mean, that’s an idea,” Ted mused. “But I’d rather not give HR another reason to call me in for a chat.”

“You know, when I signed up for this job, I had a lot of expectations,” Y/N mused, arms crossed as she watched AFC Richmond’s finest prepare for what could only be described as The Dumbest Drill of All Time. “None of them involved making sure my boss didn’t snap his dick in half.” She said rather towards Jamie's general direction than to Ted.

Jamie shot her a grin. “Babe, if my dick’s ever gonna break, I’d at least want it to be in a more entertaining situation.”

She rolled her eyes, biting back a smile. “You wish I’d dignify that with a response.”

“Oh, I do.” He smirked.

Y/N shook her head, biting back a smile as she made a mental note of the flirting. “You know Ted, I'll add ‘involuntary group castration’ to the list of things I never thought I’d witness at work.”

The American just chuckled at that and explained the purpose of the drill further. Something about how constant movement requires constant concentration...

Jamie turned to her again, tilting his head. “Babe, don’t pretend you ain’t enjoyin’ this.”

“Oh, I am,” she admitted. “Mostly because I get to watch you suffer.”

He gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest. “You’re evil. Thought you were supposed to take care of me?”

“Yeah, well, I draw the line at testicular rehabilitation.”

Ted clapped his hands. “Alright, fellas! The goal is simple—move together as a unit and most importantly, do not break the strings.”

“You break it,” Roy growled, “you suffer.”

The team collectively winced.

Jamie, however, just shot Y/N a wink. “Bet you’d be well devastated if somethin’ happened to my—”

“If you finish that sentence, I won't ever re-order the discontinued brand of hair gel you use, you know that you won't find it anywhere without me.”

Jamie barked out a laugh, but before he could push his luck further, the drill began.

It went badly immediately. As expected.

The moment they took their first synchronized step, Colin tripped over his own feet, yanking poor Sam in the process, which led to a horrifying chain reaction of agony.

“FUCK.”

“OH MY GOD.”

“I CAN’T FEEL MY BALLS.”

Then one team was suddenly attacking and pushing forward. Jeff, the defender whose bits are tied to Jamie's...well bits, started to abruptly run in the opposite direction with the ball.

"Jeff, wait. No No NO, NOOO Jeff. AAAAHHHH."

SNAP.

A sudden ripping sound was heard then Jamie Tartt screamed in agony. Even Y/N and Roy flinched at that.

Bumbercatch picked up the loose string that once was tied around Jamie from the ground in utter shock and winced.

Jamie nearly keeled over, grabbing Dani for support.

A chorus of pained groans rang out across the pitch. Players clutched their private parts in sympathy for their teammate, while Dani only whispered, “Football is life… but sometimes, football is pain…”

Y/N, still watching this spectacle, took a slow, deep breath—

And then lost it.

Laughter exploded out of her, completely uncontrollable. "Oh my god—Jamie—" she gasped, actually bending over as tears welled in her eyes. "That was tragic—"

Jamie, still hunched over in agony, shot her the most betrayed look she’d ever seen. "Oi, you're not supposed to laugh at the person who writes your paychecks!"

"I can't help it!" she wheezed, barely able to get the words out. "This is the funniest thing I’ve ever seen in my entire life and I've seen 'Hangover' about 200 times."

Ted, ever the optimist, walked towards Jamie and clapped him on the back. "Hang in there, sport. You’ll be fine, good story to tell your kids someday."

Jamie groaned dramatically, still not straightening up. "Dunno, coach, feels like I just lost all hope for future generations."

With that, Jamie pulled the hamstring on his pants to take a look at 'little Jamie'. He nodded toward Dani beside him, to confirm everything was intact.

"It’s okay, his penis is okay!” Dani declared cheerfully as if Jamie hadn’t just seen his entire life flash before his eyes.

Jamie glared at him, breathing heavily. “Dani, I swear on me life—”

Roy, completely unimpressed, scowled at him. "Get your head out of your ass, you’re fine, Tartt."

"Am I?!" Jamie cried. "Am I, Roy?!"

Roy didn’t dignify that with a response just shook his head with a pleased smile. One man's agony is another man's joy or whatever...

Y/N just sighed now, stepping forward and—against her better judgment—placed a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “C’mon, drama queen, let’s get you some ice before you pass out from the tragedy of it all.”

Jamie, still crouched slightly, turned his big, pitiful puppy-dog eyes on her. “Now you’ll take care of me, yeah?”

She rolled her eyes, but her hand did move to the back of his neck, squeezing lightly. “It is in my job description to keep you in one piece.”

Jamie grinned, even through the pain. “Knew you loved me.”

She shoved him toward the medical bench.

“Shut up and sit down before I let you suffer.”

[bunny-jpeg]

sweetness like wine

fernando alonso

request: “she may seem like lollipops and rainbows but i bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips.” with Fernando Alonso with Stroll!reader 71. “she may seem like lollipops and rainbows but i bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips.”

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/40s), stroll!reader, "innocent"!reader, doggy style, dirty talk & pet names

eros (the valentine's day collection)

your giggles were sweet. fernando alons for a long time couldn't figure out what kind of sweet. because while most saw lance's sister as the epitome of sweet. fernando knew that there was a heat to you, a certain kick that would leave most out of breath.

you made be like candy around the paddock, those around you hooked on your ability to make anyone you spoke to smile. dressed in soft whites save for the aston martin hat your brother made you wear. you were divine almost in the early summer sun.

but fernando didn't think of you as fluffy like cotton candy or tooth rotting sugary like milk chocolate. no, you were sweet the way wine was. it went down easy and quenched fernando's thirst.

to his surprise, the innocent stroll daughter wasn't as sweet as most first expected.

“she may seem like lollipops and rainbows but i bet behind closed doors she’s latex and whips.” was what fernando said to mark the last time they spoke to one another only a few weeks prior.

both men's gazes lingered on you when he made the comments. he had thought about it as you came to visit your brother and father on the track again. you had the summer off from your lovely graduate program overseas. neither your father nor brother knew what you got up other than your grades were spectacular.

fernando had an idea, but no confirmation that you were anything but a sweet virgin. that was until you bent over to adjust the strap of your shoe that he saw it. your behind was marked awfully dark for someone who is so innocent. it didn't look like an unfortunate sunburn, but rather bruises.

he smiled wickedly as he approached you quickly. when you stood back up he placed a hand on your arm and when you turned around he looked at you with those dark eyes of his. he said lowly, "be careful, i don't think you want everyone to see what you got up to last night."

your hand went to your behind and your eyes went wide. before you could say anything, he chuckled.

"not so innocent after all. i'm guessing you often have flavours of the week with your sexual partners." he leaned in a little bit with a hand casually on your hip. no one was watching you two, but your attention was solely on fernando as he asked, "why don't i be your flavour this weekend?"

you hated to admit it, you liked the older driver. your brother had a poster of him from a magazine that went 'missing' one afternoon. you nearly ripped the spine of the magazine trying to get it out. and now to have fernando alonso himself proposition you for sex. who were you going to deny him?

you swallowed and replied quietly, "will you be gentle?"

he pulled you in marginally closer, less to be close to you and more to establish dominance, "why would i do that? you wouldn't like that one bit." you also hated to admit that he was completely right.

-

fernando's hands felt good on your skin. it was the kind of feeling the enraptured you. it felt good, his hands were soft but strong. he had a grip as he touched your breasts that made your soul sing. there was a throb between your legs as he explored your covered skin.

"i see why your family is so protective of you. touching you is like touching an angel. your father made sure to send you to a university that would keep you away from trouble. but, your little rebellion is having men use you like a toy." he palmed your breasts, "you like it, don't you?"

"don't talk about my family right now. not right before we're going to fuck." you whined.

"mmm, well. since you asked so nicely. but, i want to know. where are you supposed to be tonight? i know your father asked." fernando said lowly as he started to unbutton your top. slowly he exposed your soft breasts to him. framed nicely by your bra.

you swallowed, "i told him friends were in town. i would be with them, they're nowhere here tonight. but my father trusts me." you looked away for a moment but fernando took you by the chin to look at him.

"well, not a total lie. i am a friend to the family. but tonight, i am something more more to you." then with a little help you got your shirt off and soon your bra.

you ended up on the bed and fernando got your skirt off of you, followed by the skimpy pair of panties, and even the short white socks you wore. you were naked on the bed and frenando gripped your sore ass. you hissed and jolted but he kept you pinned. you were naked and soon fernando was too.

"you look good like this, bent over for me. so precious that way, do you know how to be a good girl?" he asked softly. he pressed his forearm into your back again to keep you bent, "do you want to be my good girl?"

you nodded meekly and he rubbed his cock up against your entrance a little bit. you whined and attempt to squirm. but you weren't going anywhere, not unless fernando allowed it. it made sense that someone like him would get off to pretty young things who liked to be smacked around during sex. freak.

but then again, so were you. and as he sank his cock into you. you near bit the pillow to keep from being too loud. after all, your brother was in the next room over and you were supposed to be nowhere near the hotel. you shuddered under him and felt the swell of lust in your body.

fernando's pace left your core hot and his words felt like warm honey in your head, "mmm, that's a good girl. see, no need to be spanked until you were bruised." he made a pleased noise, "you're so agreeable, so soft. i love it. i can see why your family worries, something so whorish yet so sweet should be kept locked away." he kissed the shell of your ear as he rocked against you.

what a display you two made, to have fernando rut up against you aggressively.

there was a certain experience that fernando carried that left you holding on tightly to the covers. he was mature, but still carried heavy stamina that made you gasp into the covers like you were a virgin. he worked your body in a way that made everything run hot in your body.

"fuck, that feels good. fuck, that's it." you gasped as you arched your back and held on tightly. he fucked like someone your age, but had the ability to make you cum. his pace was punishing and full of force, it made the pleasure get knocked out of your mouth with sweet noises.

it was an intoxicating feeling, something about him just made you gasp and whine for more. you wanted him, you wanted him deeply. the sexual surge in your blood made you move yourself on his cock to meet his thrusts.

fernando held onto the back of your head and pushed your face into the pillows then shifted your hips to get better leverage of your sweet pussy. he let out a low groan as he continued to move against you. the pleasure was wrapped up around him, the feeling was hot, even without the implications of it. your cunt felt nice around him. your noises egged him on and he couldn't wait to get another feel of your sweet breasts. you really were the full package, and fernando thanked a lucky star that he finally got the chance to enjoy your beautiful body.

"you feel amazing." he mused, "i cannot believe i haven't tasted you before. you could get anything you want with a body like yours. a dangerous weapon for a girl your age."

you swore into the covers and let him continue to ravage you. the pleasure was a curl in your gut and you held on for dear. the hotel pillows were your only support while fernando fucked you. you wanted more of this, your braid, muddled with pleasure, was trying to figure out how to go to the next few races. you loved your family, but it was nothing compared to how fernando made you feel in that moment.

every other man you had been with had been blown out of the water by the pleasure fernando gave you. his thrusts were long, hard and fast, paced perfectly to rub up against your sweetest parts. it made you whine a little bit, only for fernando to push your face further into the covers.

"be good for me." he said, "i don't want to make that ass go purple. doesn't match the green of the team." he kissed the side of your neck as his thrusts became shorter but the force behind them was still there.

he laid his weight on you to keep you pinned with movements that made your thighs tremble. you weren't going to last much longer, not at the speed he was going. not with the heavy pleasure in your head. you could feel your head throb from the head rush.

"you feel like a dream." he said softly, "maybe i should keep you. i'll protect you, adore you, fuck you until you can't stand. isn't that what you want? someone to satisfy you?"

fernando's pace started to become erratic, the rhythm was sloppy as you reached your orgasm. he watched you fall apart under him. you came around his cock and tensed up. he continued to rut against you, the bed shook under the both of you as you tensed up then relaxed from the peak of pleasure. everything felt hot all over,

"beautiful." he sighed happily before he continued to fuck you with a feverish pace. everything felt hot all over and he couldn't get enough of you. when he came, he made sure every inch was inside of you before he finished. he painted your insides white as he slowed to a stop before he pressed his forehead against your sweaty back.

you laid out next to him and he held your face while he kissed your flushed face. you smiled lazily and said, "i have a feeling this won't stop after tonight."

"oh no, my love." he chuckled, "i have to find out what makes you scream and see if you're a good girl to not let anyone hear." <3