#do you see the hand situation going on here. do you see it.

[dollishsz]

HOW DIFFERENT BATBOYS APOLOGIZE AFTER A ARGUMENT ── .✦

a/n: Lowkey I feel like I’m like slightest but problematic in arguments (not me exposing myself) but srs I got this request by a anon! (Here) So yeah tysmm, I won’t be writing the argument because lowkey, I can’t do angst at this time 💔😞

(Tags: how different batboys apologize after a argument)

BRUCE WAYNE ── .✦

The "I'm Sorry, But…" Apology: Bruce’s apology might be a little stiff at first. He’s not great with words when it comes to his emotions, but he does know how to make up for things. His apology might start with something like, "I know I’m… difficult, but I didn’t mean to hurt you." The real comedy comes in when he tries to "fix" the situation by throwing money at it—like suggesting an extravagant dinner or buying you a new wardrobe because, "I know it will make you feel better."

Trying Too Hard to Be ‘Normal’: He might try to act like he’s “not Bruce Wayne” for a second, attempting to be goofy to show you he’s truly sorry. Picture Bruce awkwardly trying to make a joke: "I’m sorry I made you feel like I was ignoring you. How about we go out… without my bodyguards this time? You know, like a normal date?"

The Silent Apology: More often than not, Bruce will show you he’s sorry with actions, like preparing your favorite meal or doing something thoughtful (such as leaving you a handwritten note or taking care of something you've been stressing about). But if you press him for words, he might simply mutter, “I’m not good at this… but I am sorry,” and leave it at that.

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

The Full-On “I’m Sorry, Please Forgive Me” Routine: Dick is extremely sorry whenever he’s messed up, and he knows how to make it entertaining. He’ll show up with flowers, chocolates, or maybe even your favorite ice cream. And then, with a totally sincere but dramatic flair, he’ll say something like, “Listen, I know I was an idiot, and I have no excuse except that I’m clearly emotionally stupid when I’m upset. So please, for the love of all things holy, let me make it up to you.”

Humorous Apologies: Dick might also make you laugh with his over-the-top apologies. Maybe he tries to outdo himself by setting up an elaborate “romantic” date, only for it to completely go awry (think spaghetti noodles flying everywhere or a very unromantic “romantic” location). He’ll laugh it off, saying, “Okay, so maybe that’s not exactly how I imagined it… but you have to admit, it’s unforgettable.”

The Super Dramatic ‘I’m Sorry’ Speech: After an argument, Dick is not shy about admitting when he’s wrong. He’ll deliver a heartfelt, exaggerated apology, something like, "I was a fool, and I see now that I was wrong. You are perfect, and I am definitely not. How do you put up with me?" Then, he might give you puppy-dog eyes, as if expecting you to immediately forgive him.

JASON TODD ── .✦

The “I Know I Messed Up, But… Here’s a Gift” Approach: Jason is quick to apologize, but it’s not usually with a heartfelt speech. Instead, he’ll show up with a gift—maybe something small but thoughtful, like your favorite snack or a new book he knows you’ve been eyeing. He’ll casually hand it to you and say, “Alright, alright, I messed up. But you know I’m not great at this, so here’s my attempt at being a decent human being.”

Comedic Self-Deprecation: Jason, knowing he’s not always the best communicator, might start with a little self-deprecating humor. "Look, I’m sorry, okay? You’re right, I am a jerk sometimes. But hey, at least I didn’t set anything on fire this time, right?" He’ll try to make you laugh with his inability to fully express himself, but you know he means it.

The “I’m Sorry, Now Let’s Get Back to Normal” Routine: Jason might awkwardly try to move past the argument, brushing it off with a gruff, "Look, I’m sorry for being a pain. Can we just… go back to how things were?" It's not the most eloquent apology, but it’s Jason, and it’s his way of saying he wants to make things right without diving too deep into feelings.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

The "I Overthought This" Apology: Tim is a perfectionist, so when he messes up, he’ll overthink how to apologize. He’ll probably try to do something really thoughtful, like writing you a letter or planning a whole day dedicated to making it up to you. But the real comedy comes when he gets so wrapped up in planning that he’s awkward about it. "I, uh, made you a list of everything I could do to make it up to you, starting with… well, taking you out for dinner. You like sushi, right? But if you prefer something else, I can also—"

The "What Do You Need?" Routine: Tim might also take a very logical approach. He’ll ask, "What would you like me to do to fix this?" but in a way that makes it seem like he’s creating a spreadsheet of ways to apologize. "I’ve compiled some options for you to choose from. Option one: Dinner. Option two: A walk in the park. Option three: Let me do your laundry for the next week…”

The 'Nervous, Over-Apologetic' Tim: Tim is likely to be the one who apologizes over and over again. He’ll say “I’m sorry” about a dozen times in a single conversation, with increasing levels of anxiety. "I really didn’t mean it that way. I’m so sorry. Are we okay? You don’t seem mad, but if you are, I understand, and I’m really, really sorry."

DAMIAN WAYNE ── .✦

The Reluctant Apology: Damian isn’t one to apologize easily, and when he does, it’s more formal. He might say something like, “I apologize for my behavior. It was uncalled for.” And then he’ll awkwardly pause, before adding, "I... didn’t mean to upset you." The comedic part comes when he clearly doesn’t understand how he’s hurt you. He might ask, “Is there anything I can do to make it right? Or… was this just another one of your moods?”

The Unintentional "Nice Guy" Apology: Damian will give you something as an apology—perhaps a bouquet of flowers or something that he “found interesting,” but he’ll likely be very stiff about it, saying something like, “This is for you. I thought you would appreciate it. It’s… an apology gift.” He’ll be surprised when you react positively, since he’s convinced that you’ll just think it’s lame

A Small Gesture of Remorse: As an apology, Damian might ask you to join him for a quiet walk or for tea, giving you a rare moment of sincerity. He might even throw in a joke (but it’ll be one of those very dry ones), saying, “The tea will be of the highest quality, so I suppose that should count for something."

[enwoso]

Maybe younger Williamson reader causing trouble

The setting could be at training

Hope you’re doing well

Have a nice day🫶

DOUBLE TROUBLE — lionesses x williamson!reader

masterlist

you and your big sister leah were polar opposites.

leah had always had a sense of seriousness to her, a strong defender whom always had a frown donning her face in team photos but always seemed to have a strong dress sense to her.

whereas you, you couldn’t be more opposite if you tried. you were a midfielder, an attacking midfielder to be specific and your family were sure you didn’t have a serious bone in your body always finding something funny out of any situation even sometimes when it wasn’t very appropriate as well as not really caring about you wore, if you could you would be in a tracksuit twenty four-seven.

but there was something you and your older sister shared a strong love for and that was football and more specifically a strong love for arsenal.

you both falling in love with the club with each match you went to see when you were growing up before you started playing — and maybe it was a was a little because you wanted to be just like your big sister when you were little, not that you would ever give her the satisfaction of knowing that.

so being with your sister and playing football with your sister both at club level and international level meant you spent a considerable amount of time with each other. and with that you knew exactly what made you sister tick and how to do it quickly sometime at your teammates expense when they would have to deal with the after affect of her.

“y/n! get back here now!” leah huffed as you ran off with her left boot in your hand, rushing down the hallway of st george’s park and placing the bright white boot on the first random shelf you passed, placing it carefully hoping to not knock any memorabilia off the shelf before racing further down the hallway and into the canteen.

a smug smile plastered on your lips which the team had learned to know this meant you were up to no good. “what you up to now, trouble?” beth raised her eyes brows with a knowing smile as you slipped into a seat opposite the blonde as she was sat on a table with alessia and ella.

“pfft me? i wouldn’t ever be causing trouble” you played off as cool as cucumber as you regained a normal breathing pattern. beth giving a knowing look towards alessia and ella as they both nodded, they knew trouble wasn’t far behind you.

“mhm and pigs can fly-“ beth mumbled taking a sip of her drink as a stifled laugh left the lips of both alessia and ella.

“i’m a literal walking angel, ask my mum!” you grinned sweetly, a hum coming from beth knowing that your mum did in fact think you were an angel and could do no harm and so when in practice was something that always riled your older sister up.

you sat there with a smug smile on your face as you joined into the girls’ conversation about the uncoming match in the netherlands, discussing some places you may go if you get the chance on your downtime.

but maybe instead of being so tuned into the conversation you probably should of been watching your surroundings as then may you have seen-

“what the fu- leah!” you screamed as you sister yanked your chair from the table, you almost falling off as the eyes in the room turned to look at what was all the commotion about.

“i’m gonna give you three seconds to tell me exactly where my boot is-“ leah said through gritted teeth, as she pinned your shoulders to the chair. a sense of urgency in her tone as the team was to be out on the fields for training in the next thirty minutes.

“-otherwise you can find yourself doing hill sprints while everyone’s warming up.” leah gave your sarcastic smile as she let out a sigh, a light giggle leaving your lips knowing you had done your job today and officially pissed your older sister off in probably record time, considering it wasn’t even eleven am yet.

“oh c’mon le, you wouldn’t do that to you own sister-” you gave her a loving smile as the blonde just raised an eyebrow, showing no signs of cracking.

“watch me.” leah paused before continuing, a noise of stifled laughs and some pats on the shoulder as some of the team passed, knowing how it was going to end. having seen the situation play out one too many times on camp and at club.

“three-“

a small gasp came from your as you reached up to hold a hand to your chest, as you pouted “your own blood, your baby sister leah. remember that!”

“your twenty two?”

“exactly. your basically a fossil-“ you casually say holding your lips together to hold the laugh that was so desperately trying to escape as a few ooo’s could be heard in the room but quickly where shot down by the death glare that was given to them by their captain.

“two.” leah’s patience was running thin, extremely thin.

“you really need to loosen up le- it’s just a bit of fun.” you shrugged as leah’s face was donned with a deep frown clearly bored of your silly games, you on the other hand were enjoying every second.

“or you just need to grow up?” leah quipped back quickly as the comment left a smirk on your face, your mouth hanging open slightly.

“well at least i won’t have permanent frown marks on my face-“ you mumbled under your breath as that was leah’s final straw, a laugh huff coming from her.

“just tell me where my fucking boot is!” leah voice getting a little louder with each passing word she said as your eyebrows furrowed slightly.

“you said i had three seconds and you’ve only-“

“ONE! now for the love of god will you please-“

“mhm since you asked nicely it’s literally been over there the entire time-” you lifted your arm up slightly with the little movement of your arms that you had from them being pinned to the chair by your older sisters firm grip.

leah’s head quickly spinning around to see where you were pointing to, her grip loosening on your shoulders so your took your chance using your strength and bolted out the chair while your sister was focused on scanning the room for her boot which had in fact not been over there the entire time.

but before leah even processed what you’d said, you were out the chair and out the room as chorus of laughter filling the room as a defeated sigh come from your sister.

“she’s such a pest!” leah groaned loudly ironically sitting down on the chair you had just bolted from, leah giving up on chasing you knowing that’s what you wanted her to do.

beth getting up from the table after watching the whole scene take place and getting some enjoyment from it.

“she’s such an angel, our little williamson eh!” beth laughed patting the english captain on the shoulder as a role of the eyes at the comment,

“more like pain in the backside!”

but even with the amount of winding each other up the two of you did to each other, at the end of the day you were sisters and you would always have each others backs.

[lucky-santangelo]

I can admit that there is technically a selfishness in both protagonists, but Glinda’s outweighs Elphaba’s, hence the criticism of her character.

First, there’s a difference in why both women want to work with Madame Morrible (and, through her, the Wizard). Yes, both of their reasons are for personal gain: Glinda wants this for more fame and power than she already has. On the other hand, Elphaba wants to be de-greenfied so people can…you know…stop treating her like she’s trash solely based on the color of her skin. Elphaba’s initial deepest desire to change the way she looks is inherently superficial, BUT it’s in direct response to society’s (AND her family’s) horrible treatment of her because she is green. Glinda’s reasons are MORE selfish.

Now, I know that in “Defying Gravity,” Elphaba asks Glinda to come with her, but the movie (and this post—a sincere thank you, OP 🤗) helped me see a new interpretation of it. I don’t think that Elphaba asks Glinda to throw her life away for her, per se. That was going to be a consequence, for sure, but I think she was first and foremost asking Glinda to join her in standing up for what Glinda JUST said she believed in: Animals rights.

The context is important here. This moment is happening after their Goat professor is violently removed from their campus. Elphaba and Fiyero were genuinely distraught over what happened. Glinda, hating to be left out (selfish intentions!), formerly announces to their class that she’s changing her name to honor Doctor Dillamond as a show of solidarity with the Animals in Oz. Only a mere hours later, Glinda is willing (and asking Elphaba) to side with the people responsible for Animal oppression. Oh how quickly Glinda’s performative allyship crumbled!

In the beginning of the song, Glinda is like, “Hey! If you give this cause a rest, you could look Normal the way you’ve always wanted!” And Elphaba is like, “But I don’t want it—no, I CAN’T want it anymore.” And I never noticed until now that Elphaba corrects herself!! She still wants to be de-greenified, but she chooses to give up her seat at the table for something bigger than herself. The Animal race is being treated as subhuman and she decides to give up this opportunity to help them (or at the very least, not be a part of their oppression). Elphaba gave up her dream of looking (and being treated as) normal in order for a minority race to have their rights back. That is selfless. That is something that Glinda was unwilling to do.

And you’re saying that Elphaba knows full well how much Glinda values other’s opinions, but Glinda says the same thing about Elphaba! A lifetime of being Othered, doesn’t make societal rejection any less hurtful for Elphaba. She just got better at hiding how much it affects her behind “I don’t give a fuck” armor.

Also, Glinda had so much wealth and influence that she could have used to help Elphaba and the Animals, you know? She could have been a Dolly Parton philanthropist. Instead, she made the conscious decision to stay in the system that she continued to passively benefit from, and to be an active cog in the systemic machine.

This was an impossible situation, but there was definitely a right answer 🥴 And Elphaba asking Glinda to do the right thing doesn’t make her “equally” as wrong as Glinda was for choosing to go along with the Wizard, please 😭

TL;DR: Yes, there is nuance to Glinda’s decision and you could make an argument for both characters’ selfishness, but Glinda’s selfishness far outweighs Elphaba and she is justifiably criticized for it. Elphaba gave up what little privilege she had in order to help a marginalized group. Glinda was willing to step on minorities’ backs (or to stand idly by while others did so) in order to cling to her own.

I love how inherently selfish both Glinda AND Elphaba are as protagonists. But where one gets praised and admired for it, the other gets demonised and hated.

People always attack Glinda’s decision not to runaway with Elphaba, but no one acknowledges how overtly selfish it is to ask that of someone.

Elphaba is asking Glinda to throw her ENTIRE life away for her. To be ostracised and hated all throughout Oz when she knows full well how badly Glinda cares about what people think of her.

And while Elphaba is used to such ostracisation, Glinda is not.

It is an equally selfish decision refuse Elphaba request. To perpetuate corrupt beliefs you don’t believe; in order to be accepted and validated by people in power.

They’re BOTH in the wrong, for entirely different reasons. It was an impossible situation with no right answer. And I’m sick of people acting like Glinda made the “ wrong choice ”

[dreamscapeee222]

Hello! Hope your having a good day or even :)

I had an idea for the arcane reacting to finding out the reader has prosthetics (maybe like a ball jointed doll). For the reason that the reader often overs their hands in gloves and normally wears long pants so no one really knew. How did the arcane react to finding out and how?

Thanks if you do take my request! And take your time :)

A/n: This is such a unique idea. Here's how I imagine that ^^

You have prosthetics

Vi, Jinx, Caitlyn, Ekko, Jayce, Viktor, Mel

Masterlist

Vi

Vi would be the type to stumble across the truth by accident—maybe during a sparring match or when you’re adjusting something on your prosthetics. She’d freeze for a moment, her brows furrowing in concern.

"Why didn’t you tell me?" she’d ask, her tone not accusatory but genuinely confused. When you explain it wasn’t something you wanted to share openly, she’d nod, understanding immediately. From then on, she’s fiercely protective of you, often cracking jokes to make you feel comfortable. "Hey, at least you won’t get cold feet, right?" But the softness in her eyes when she sees you adjusting your gloves says everything about how much she admires your strength.

Jinx

Jinx would probably notice something was off way before anyone else. Maybe she’d catch a glimpse of your hands moving in a way that didn’t feel "natural." When she finally discovers the truth, she’d be thrilled—"Oh, my gosh! You’re like a walking art piece!"

Jinx would constantly ask if she could decorate your prosthetics, pulling out paints, stickers, or gadgets she made herself. "C’mon, just one teeny tiny bomb launcher in your arm? Pleeease?" But underneath the playful exterior, she’d be deeply respectful of your boundaries and quick to stand up to anyone who dared make a comment about your prosthetics.

Caitlyn

Caitlyn would notice small hints—a clicking sound, the way your movements were precise but deliberate—but would never press you on it. When she does find out, likely through you opening up to her, she’d be calm and measured.

"Thank you for trusting me," she’d say sincerely. Caitlyn would want to learn everything about your prosthetics—how they work, how they’re maintained, and if you need any support. She’d quietly ensure you have access to any resources or help you need, even going so far as to consult mechanics or tinkerers on your behalf without ever overstepping your boundaries.

Ekko

Ekko would probably find out during a repair session or a mission gone wrong. His reaction would be pure curiosity and awe.

"Wait, hold up—this is so cool," he’d say, crouching down to inspect your prosthetics (with your permission). "Did you build these? Who helped you? Can I?" He’d be deeply respectful of your privacy but would eagerly want to help upgrade or maintain your prosthetics if you’re okay with it. Ekko would see your prosthetics as a testament to your resilience and resourcefulness, often bringing it up when someone underestimates you: "They’ve literally rebuilt themselves. What’ve you done lately?"

Jayce

Jayce would probably find out when you were in a situation where your prosthetics needed repairs. He’d jump in to help, his mind immediately going into engineer mode.

"Why didn’t you tell me about this earlier? I could’ve helped you fine-tune these!" he’d say, clearly excited about the tech aspect. Jayce would want to involve you in the process, asking for your input and being genuinely respectful of your preferences. He’d also be the first to defend you if anyone made insensitive remarks, using his voice and status to shut them down instantly.

Viktor

Viktor would notice right away, his keen eye picking up on the small details you thought you were hiding. He wouldn’t say anything until you were ready to tell him, though. When you do, he’d be remarkably calm and empathetic.

"I understand what it’s like to live with… modifications," he’d say softly, gesturing to his own cane or leg brace. Viktor would admire your prosthetics for their functionality and beauty, offering subtle suggestions for improvements if you were open to it. He’d be the one to remind you that your prosthetics don’t define you but are instead a symbol of your strength.

Mel

Mel would approach the revelation with grace and tact. If she noticed something odd beforehand, she wouldn’t press you about it, waiting until you were comfortable enough to share. When you finally reveal your prosthetics, she’d offer you a warm, understanding smile.

"You’ve been carrying this secret all on your own," she’d say, her voice gentle but firm. "You don’t need to hide from me." Mel would never let anyone else treat you differently because of your prosthetics and would praise your strength and elegance often. She might even commission custom pieces to adorn your prosthetics if you were comfortable with it, seeing them as a unique extension of your beauty.

See pinned.

[banquetwriter]

୨୧ Gardening buddy ୨୧

pairing: Joel Miller ♡︎ Fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ porn with plot, sorta sub!joel, shy Joel, Tommy being an ass, softdom-ish!joel, pussy pronouns, Reader has hair long enough to “gather” (tho it doesn't matter much) with female anotomy, pnv and f receivng oral

summary: ʚ you have some plans to expand the garden and poor Joel just can't resist you ɞ

Words: 5.2k

A/N: lets pretend it didn't take me 22 days to write this lol

P:1 P:2 P:3

Joel swirled his whiskey slightly. He didn't even really want the damned thing. However, he would never decline a free drink. His jaw clenched slightly, eyeing the crowd. It was one of the many community events Jackson liked to host. Joel hadn't gone to many of them if he was honest but Tommy being the ever-intrusive brother he was, he pretty much had no choice but to show up tonight.

Plus you were gonna be there tonight, which was always a bonus.

It was no secret to Joel (or anyone else for that matter) how beautiful you are. You were younger, younger than him at least. He wasn't one hundred percent but early thirties he was guessing. 

You were funny, talented, and had a level head. Dangerous combo for a man like Joel. He'd seen you around of course. You didn’t go on patrols but you did run the gardening area when it came time and helped teach when it was cold.

Joel had noticed you but never had a real reason to say much to you so he didn't. That wasn't until Tommy had introduced you both. Fucking Tommy. You wanted to expand the garden, so you went to Tommy. 

————

Joel had just gotten off an extra patrol shift. He didn't have much to do nowadays so it was either sit around and play his six-string or go out and try and help out.

He had made a promise to Maria to stop by tonight for some planning. He wasn't too sure why, seeing how Joel didn't contribute much. As he knocked on the door and Maria’s half smile greeted him his curiosity grew. 

Everyone knew Joel was a little shy even if he would never say that. He heard your voice, he'd seen you teaching the littles outside enough times to recognize your voice by now. Why the hell were you here? 

“They're in the kitchen. Go ahead and head on back. I'll be right there.” Maria said with a soft smile and a strong hold on Joel's shoulder. She released her grip on the man, smirking to herself and she walked away. As her boot heel clicks got further away it dawned on Joel he had to now navigate a social situation with his brother and a person he didn't know too well.

Great. This oughta go well.

His face was neutral as he walked in. “Oh, there he is! My big brother, ladies and gentlemen.” Tommy walked around his kitchen island to hug his brother. Joel didn't have a moment to prepare as his younger brother's arm came crashing down around his shoulder. His eyes flicker to you who is, In defense, looking away but quietly giggling at his brother's actions. 

“Jesus Tommy, what is all of this about?” he says, fighting the way a red tint covers his face, neck, and ears. Embarrassment floods his system. Tommy loosens his grips eagerly looking at you. “Go ahead tell him.” you raise your eyebrows in surprise at the sudden spotlight. 

“Oh! Well um, well I sorta run all the gardening and whatnot here as well as teach the younglings how to garden and- sorry I'm rambling,” you say waving your hand a bit with a wide smile. You take a deep breath and lean into the kitchen island pointing to a paper, probably a map.

“The garden needs an expansion. There are a lot of people here, and everyone has a mouth to feed. I'm not thinking huge but bigger,” you said gesturing with your hands. Joel nods, walking over to the workspace. “Alright,” he states. Seems like a reasonable plan. “What’ you need me for?” his hands find the counter.

Your eyes flick down but just as soon as they look down they look right back up. “Well I came to Tommy- well actually to Maria THEN to Tommy but he said you're the man for the job,” you said placing your hand on your hip. Course Tommy would sign him up to do the grunt work for a pretty girl like you. 

The old man's eyes shifted to his brother who was now feeling less confident in his skills. “It ain't a big job Joel. We’d get the supplies in a few weeks max.” Tommy said encouragingly. He thought for a few moments.

He should say no. He's old and he ain't got time for no gardens.

————

His stomach swirled with anxiety for what felt like the thousandth time tonight. He told himself he was simply observing the dancing crowd. But he knew who he was looking for. You. He was looking for your awfully friendly smile. Your worn but cute jeans. 

He had spent so much time searching, eyeing the crowd he didn't see the very object of his affection damn near skipping up to him. “Hey gardening buddy!” you shouted holding out your arms. 

Joel's eyes widen at your contact. Your wave of joy crashed into him. “Woah don't kill the old man now!” Tommy shouts from the bar before getting a not-so-playful nudge from his wife. You pull away looking back to rolling your eyes at the younger Miller.

“What an ass,” you mutter, eyes fluttering back to Joel. Joel smiles looking down too nervous to look at you. “But how are you? Enjoyin’ the dancing?” your hand found its way to his shoulder. Your fingers smoothed over the fabric of his jacket, dipping under and pulling his flannel out.

His eyes watch your fingers drop the fabric as you chuckle to yourself. “What?” he finally manages. You were so touchy… it was weird. He didn't mind really. It wasn't anything that would cross a line. Just friendly things. 

Or he thinks.

He hopes it's more, secretly. There are several reasons why it could never work out between you two… You are younger, sweeter, softer. 

He can't think about it too long. He's alone most days now. And thinking about how fucking soft you are will ruin him. When those thoughts bubble up into his mind they don't just stay there. They find their way into his bloodstream… his bones.

He can picture your smile, the way your lips feel against his. The curve of your back, ass, thighs… anything his large rough hands could get on. He'd want all part of you. You smell like honey, or maybe you actually smell like honey. 

He blinks back to you smiling looking at him expectantly. “Yeah uh…” he scratches the back of his head, taking a deep breath in. You do smell like honey. “Ain't much of a dancer, to be honest darlin’,” he sighs. You nod your head with a smile, it is your turn to look down now. “Yeah sorry, I ain't buyin’ what you selling honey.” 

His eyebrows raise as his lips follow in a smirk. “Yeah?” he asks, placing his bands on his hips. Your arms cross with defiance, “Yeah.” your confidence oozed off of you like a waterfall. 

Maybe it was the drink you had or maybe it was you trying to ignore the beating in your heart whenever you saw Joel but you needed a dance.

————

You stood in the front room of Tommy’s looking at all their pictures as Maria shifted around her drawers for something she owed you. Joel, having just agreed to help you expand the garden, had gotten a hard smack on the back from Tommy, a warm smile from Maria and you guessed it a hug from you.

Joel rounded the corner to see Maria approaching you with something small in her hand. “Hey thanks,” you said taking it from her and pushing it in your pocket. “Anything to take the load off.” she winked at you. 

His sister-in-law looked at him and with a quick nod and a “Joel.” it was just you two in the living room. “Thank you again Joel for helping me with this and I promise I will help as much as I physically can,” you said walking up to him. “Quit thanking me, it's not a big deal.” not needing to put his heart in any more strain. 

You let out the (cutest) giggle and stepped back slightly. “Heh- sorry. My name is y/n by the way. I feel like I didn't introduce myself earlier.” 

It felt silly to Joel you felt the need to introduce yourself to him. Like you two haven't met before. Of course, it dawned on him. You just don't think about him as much as he thinks about you. Why would you? He's just Tommy's older brother.

“I know what yer’ name is darlin’.” A slight awkwardness hangs in the air, just like the Christmas lights in December. There to look at and admire. “Right, sorry. I know who you are too. Joel Miller. Tommy’s handsome older brother. You've got quite the reputation.” you said with a wide smile trying to use it to cover up how your face was starting to burn.

If your face was burning Joel’s must be on fire as he opened his mouth to speak but not a word came out. Not only did you know who he was but you called him handsome. That's when the schoolboy crush began in its full form.

No longer could he pretend he just thought you were pretty; those pesky little feelings found a way to weasel into his heart. “Handsome, huh?” he asked, not able to make eye contact.

You bit your lip at his nervousness, toe-ing forward slightly. “Well sure,” you explain. “Hard to miss those big ol’ muscles of yours riding into town,” you said. Your words may be teasing but your tone wasn't. You were more quiet now. 

That's right. The old shift he and Tommy would do usually had him coming into Jackson as soon as you were bringing the littles on a walk around. That means not only did you know him, you saw him. Nearly every damn day. Did you miss him on days he wasn't there? Ever think about sayin’ hi?

“Yeah uh, I remember now. You used to have the kids out about the same time every day when me and’ Tommy’d bring in the horses.” he said gesturing to nothing.

“Yup, that's right. Hey, why don't you do that shift anymore,” you asked, shifting your weight on your feet. It was weird that this didn't feel weirder. Felt like y'all had been friends a while and not for 30 minutes over talking about some garden bed plans.

It still was awkward. It seemed like a tidal wave could hit and you still wouldn't shake the nerves. 

It had been a while since he did that patrol. “Oh well, they can't have an old man on the new guy shift eh?” he said, trying to ease ever-flowing anxieties. It was also a reminder for himself. He is older than you. Therefore out of reach for you and him. Couldn't help it, however. Thinking of the older man. You say older like he isn't a mere 20-something years older. 

“Old man? I've seen the way you wrangle those horses. Old man, where huh?” you teased, arm reaching out for your coat on the rack. He chuckled following your lead pulling his old and tattered Carhart piece on. “Yeah well, I ain't young like I used to be. Think Tommy started to notice finally.” 

He thought back to when he first got to Jackson. Begging Tommy to take Ellie from him and save her. He felt like he was going to get her killed, no he knew he was going to. He was right. He ended up hurting her worse than any scar could.

Now he had no one. Except Tommy. Stupid Tommy.

————

“Well unfortunately for you I was just about to head out.” Joel declared. He wasn't planning on it but now was as good of a time as any. Wasn't it? “Oh leave? Oh no no sorry honey I'm not letting you leave without at least one dance. Are we clear?” you tease poking his chest slightly. 

You laced your fingers with his guiding him to the ‘dance floor’ of the tipsy bison. He felt the warm feeling of your skin bleed into his. He felt the eyes of other patrons on you both. An old man and a young girl. 

The slow country song filled the air. Once you settled on a spot a little far away from the watchful crowd. You twirled around settling your arms around Joel's neck. You start a small sway back and forth to the music. His eyes didn't meet yours, instead swam through the sea of faces

What were they thinking? Were they judging him? “Hey cowboy,” his eyes flutter down. “Eyes on me.” he looks away but not for long, his eyes fall back

To yours like a comforting hug. “Why are you doin’ this?” His voice is low but not mad. “Cause you're cute,” you whisper back faces inching forward. 

There's a beat of science before Joel feels like a familiar feeling bubble in his lower belly. His arms slink down to your waist, his rough hands gripping slightly. His face dipped down to your neck next to your ear, his beard tickling your skin. “You wanna uh- get outta here?” he asks slowly, trying not to make his idea very public.

“Thought you'd never ask.” 

You both chose an Irish goodbye as the safest option. Quietly slipping into the quiet cold night. Your dancing outfit was less than ideal for the colder weather. The freezing air nearly pierces your skin, and if god had heard you just then a blanket of warmth comes down and encapsulates you. 

You turn your head to Joel who has now wrapped his very thick and warm jacket around you. “Thank you,” you said leaning closer to him as you both walked toward your road. No further words were said but your heart seemed to be beating faster than it had all day. 

You rushed to your house's front porch eager to escape the cold. You opened your front door shuffling in and letting Joel in after you. He took in your space. It was cute. A few books were on your coffee table. He would need to ask about those later.

He watched you idly as you kicked your shoes off, tossing them into a shoe bin. You ran to all of the lamps in your living room, turning them all on. It gave the room a homey feel. The realization of what he was about to do started to sink in. 

He wanted to fuck you.

Fuck felt like such a disrespectful term. You were a lady and he was a man. Making love? That felt too cheesy. But maybe Joel was just a cheesy guy... God, 5 years ago he would haven't even considered you romantically, let alone get nervous at the thought of having sex with you.

But here he was watching, getting increasingly nervous as you started a fire in your fireplace. He started to rub his shoulder slightly, watching as you were satisfied with the height of the fire. 

You shrugged his Carhart jacket off placing it on the couch. Joel’s eyes followed you as you approached him. His heart jumped as he felt the air get warmer and it wasn't the fault of the fire. He saw you glance at his lips as you got closer and closer. 

“Are you nervous?” you asked in a teasing voice noticing his quietness. He stood there without making a noise. His silence answered any questions you had. “It's ok,” you took one final step towards him. “We can go at your pace.” 

Your fingers found the sides of his face. Your hands were so soft unlike his, “S’ been a minute since v’done this. S’all.” he breathed out looking down. “That's ok, we can go as slow,” your hands found him pulling them around your waist. “Or as fast as you want this to go. No pressure baby.”

He kept his hands on your waist. Big rough mounds of flesh gripping your waist. His breaths are shaky, he can feel you. He needed to feel more. Joel takes the leap of faith. He pushes his lips against yours. The rest of your body follows as you get pulled flush against him.

You're so warm. He can feel your warmth against his crotch. The flesh of your stomach warms and rubs against him from under the fabric of your clothes. Your lips are soft and you taste like the wood flavor of a good whiskey.

His mouth engulfs yours. His body needs you, craves you. Your fingers find his hair, begging to pull him close. “Joel…” you manage as you press your nose against his. “Come on baby,” he whispers back, nudging your nose slightly. 

He pressed his body against yours encouraging you to start walking backward toward your couch. Your knees hit the plush on the furniture. You let yourself fall back as your chest rises and falls rapidly. He stands over you watching. His pupils are blown.

His skin feels so hot like he needs to jump out of it. On the other hand, he feels like his skin would ignite with yours to create the most beautiful fire. He can't believe he is gonna do this. You feel the same. You watch as he slowly sinks to his knees, choosing to ignore the small pop noise you hear as he settles closer to you.

His old, dark but kind eyes bored into your soul as you leaned closer to him on the couch. Your legs spread open to create room for him. Your mouth collided once more, this time with less urgency. Softly and slowly his tongue explored your mouth. 

Making sure every single inch of him tasted every inch of you. Your hands found quick work of his flannel nearly ripping it off of his body. He watched in awe as your soft eyes filled with lust. You needed him. Was he going to be able to give you everything you needed? 

You seemed sure he would. After making quick work of his flannel your hands started to pull his shirt up enough to expose his round soft belly. Something he is not particularly proud of. But he would be lying if he said the look in your eye didn't give him a slight ego boost 

To you, he wasn't a flabby old man. He was a damn near work of art. He couldn't bell but hesitate taking his shirt off the rest of the way as he watches your eyes track his torso. The only thing snapping him out of his state was realizing you were now looking right at him. 

“Huh?” he asked, staring up at you. You gave him a knowing smirk, “Do you wanna take your shirt off? Or keep it on?” you asked, biting your lip. In a preferable world, Joel could keep all of his clothes on for this. He can't… not easily that is. 

So he took a deep sigh. “Whatever you want honey,” his drawl bleeds into his words and your bearing heart. “Are ya sure? Cuz’ if I have my way you ain't wearing anything.” you said, dragging your finger down his chest. He shivered slightly.

You wanted him. “S’fine by me. Want you the same way.” a flash of heat finds its way to your core. He wanted you. “Oh yeah?” you asked, shuffling back to him and pressing your lips against him, fingers dancing to rip his shirt off. 

He lets you, it's hard to calm his breath enough to kiss you and not freak out. But soon enough his shirt is gone, and you guide your fingers to his having him dip under your shirt. He for a second isn't sure what to do, his brain only being able to think about how soft you are. Jesus, he is losing it. Eventually, he allows his hand to glide up your back.

Fumbling for a second with the bra strap before undoing it. It was at this moment that Joel slowly remembered who he was. He was dominant, soft, and experienced. Your eyes go slightly wide at his ability to snap your bra off. 

“My my he has many tricks up his sleeve,” you say with a smile as he pulls your bra completely off your body. “This ain't my first rodeo darlin’” he comments, unable to hold back a small smile. “For your sake, I’d hope not.” you joked. He rolled his eyes. The atmosphere shifted again. You gripped the bottom of your top pulling it off yourself.

His eyes and some drops. Your perfect tits sat looking right at him. “Christ,” he murmured, moving closer to you. His mouth instinctually moved to your collarbones, his hands slipped up your stomach. 

You breathed out at the feeling. He was wonderful. A breathy “Joel,” flew past your lips as his mouth went further, taking your nipple into his mouth. Slowly licking and sucking on your mound. Your fingers found his hair. The tips and nails tubing against the roots of the salt and pepper locks. 

He pulled away, a single string of spit still connecting the two of you. His mouth found your other tit, replicating the same love did to the other side. The slow-burning ache started to fill your system. You pressed down onto the couch trying to find any sort of relief from the pressure. 

Joel saw your struggle. His rough fingers slid down to your ass, even in jeans his touch felt so good. “Oh, we’ll get there.” he whispered, pulling away from you. “Please, Joel. I need you,” you whined. 

He pulled further away and he crept to your buckle, his eyes searched yours for permission. “Go ahead,” you whispered with a nod, he turned his attention back to your pants. He fumbled a second with the button, then in the blink of an eye had the button undone and the zipper down and was pulling your pants off. 

They were down at your ankles and then they got tossed aside. Joel eyed your thigh and stomach like an animal waiting to pounce. The feeling of his rough calloused hands rubbing against your soft flesh sent waves of pleasure down your heart. 

A prominent wet patch formed on your panties. Joel's touch was both gentle and comforting. Your finger dove under his chin holding him to look at you. “I need you, please…” you repeated. God, you sounded so whiny. 

“M’gonna m’gonna, ya gonna need to be patient f’me,” he whispered before he started kissing the flesh of your thigh. The words alone send you gushing into your panties. His scratchy beard added another sensation all welcomed.

You clench around nothing desperate for pressure. After he was satisfied with making out with your thighs making sure you were nice and wet for him, he pulled away. You watched as he moved to the top of your cunt hovering just above you. His hot breath sent shivers up your spine.

You breathed out and his mouth collided with your clothed heat. He covered you with kisses, slowly but deep, and the passion grew in your lower belly. His fingers slowly hooked into your panties. He slowly dragged them down.

His eyes nearly bulged out of his head, your entrance was glistening with slickness. All for him. Had he really done that to you? “My god baby, you trying to kill me,” he whispered. His thumb slowly spreads you open, and his finger gently brushes you.

Your legs jolted and he knew he found your clit. He watches your face as he slowly begins to rub circles. Your eyes gleam over with love. He maintains eye contact. You slowly began leaking your pussy fluttering around nothing.

Joel licked a big stripe up gathering all your juices on his tongue. You let out a soft groan. He slowly began to stick his tongue in hitting your G-spot. “Wait-” you breathed out, smoothing your hand over his hair. 

He pulled away, lips glistening and pupils blown. His heart sank to his ass, what had he done? Why did he think he could do this? He wasn't any good, not anymore at least. Maybe he never was. 

“Can I take off your pants? But leave your boxers still on,” you asked with a sheepish smile. He blinks for a second before standing up. The world seems to rush up with him, he can feel you tugging at his belt but he gets so dizzy all he can do is slowly rub his thumb across your cheek as he looks down at you.

He could get used to this view. He begged you'd look real pretty down there, taking him in your mouth. The thought alone makes his cock jump, or maybe it was the cold air as you pulled his pants down. His hard cock begging to be released.

You don't answer his prayers as you scoot back on the couch with a content smile. Joel discards everything still left on him minus his boxers. His knees make a familiar pop as he settles back in between your legs. His kisses return and so does his tongue as he begins to re-light the fire growing in your belly. 

His hand flexes up to yours grabbing yours and putting you right on your clit. His strong arms wrap around your thighs, pinning your legs open. The cold sting of his watch sends a shiver up your spine. You rub your clit trying to keep up with his pace.

It was hard to keep in rhythm, your legs shook around his head and in his arms. You felt the coil threatening to snap and you couldn't take it anymore, you removed your hand and gripped your couch cushion. “Joel- I'm so close.” 

He hummed into your sex, your back tried to arch off the couch as he kept you pinned. Your legs shook as the coil snapped. Your orgasm deafening any other stimuli. “Ohhh fuck Joel.” you whimpered into the air.

After a second his ministrations stopped, and your legs were sore but a good kind of sore. The kind where you can feel pleasure for hours. You work to catch your breath as the older man on his knees for you slowly stands up. “Jesus.” is all you can say with a smile.

“Still got it in me huh?” he said, rubbing his jaw. “Oh no Joel you had it in me,” you whispered standing up to meet him. “Oh yeah?” he asked, letting you invade his space. “Yeah,” you whispered, pulling him into a kiss, your taste still on his tongue. You let out a small noise. “Taste yourself, baby? Sweetest pussy I've ever had.” and you moaned again. 

You needed his dick right now. 

Your fingers fumbled for the fabric of his boxers. They were hot and so was the rest of him. Chest tinged with a slight red color. You pulled down as you kissed him, and his hard member sprung up. Joel hissed inwards at the sudden cold air.

And Jesus was perfect. He was long, or at least longer than anyone you had ever seen in real life. And big. God, you were gonna feel this man in your toes. You looked up at him with a loopy smile. “Not too bad for an old man,” you mumble, your tease must have been good because at that moment his rigid cock jumped slightly up.

That was your cue to begin. Joel shot you a warning glance with his eyes, but a smirk tugged at his lips. You slowly begin to tease him, fluttering your hands around his hips and thighs. Before you can sink to the ground his strong hand gathers to the back of your head. He guides your head back up, and you're confused.

Worry starts to flood your system. You cock your head to the side trying to figure out why he wouldn't want you to suck his dick. He was already hard, he ate you out just moments ago… none of it was adding up in your brain.

“That's not how this is gonna work,” he says as his large hands find the sides of your arms. He gently moves you to the couch. You plop down, still confused. “Work? Work how?” you ask. “You don't needa suck m’off just cause I did what I did.” 

You shake your head with a smirk, “I don't need to do anything. I want to, Joel.” you mustered up your best puppy eyes. “No baby what ya’ need,” he starts walking towards you. Your knees hit the couch again as you flop down. His hand meets your knee, spreading your legs for him. “What you need is me in that pretty little cunt. She's begging for me,” he whispers in the last part.

Your mouth is slightly agape. Have you really just heard that? No way… right? Joel came down to meet you, his hands roaming your body tentatively. He lined himself up to your entrance.

“Sure you wanna do this with an old man? We can stop.” he reminds you. “No we can't,” you said

With a smile. “Yes, we can. This can end now. You don't have to do this.” and while his words were so sweet, you needed him to fuck you. “Joel, pleased I've waited so long for this,” you whispered. He nodded, positioning his hard length in you.

It felt like he was piercing you. As he pushed into you you mewled out. He instantly stopped,” You alright?” he asked his warm rough hands creating the greatest sensation in the world. “Mhm, just stings a little that's all,” you whispered nodding at him. Joel doesn't move his eyes searching for permission to keep going. 

“Go ahead, m’ ok.” you encouraged. He nodded pushing in about halfway, it was his turn to make a noise. You were so tight and warm and ready for him that he nearly keeled over at the feeling. God, he wasn't gonna last long. Once he pushed all the way in he dove down to kiss you. 

His hips began snapping against yours as your mouths melted together. You pulled away the feeling of his dick prodding your tummy become overpowering, to say the least. Your fingers scratched down his back leaving long traces in your wake. 

He breathed heavily, his forehead planted on yours. “Mm fuck me,” he muttered gathering your hair and yanking your head down to look at where the two of you met. To see you swallowing his cock whole. “Look at you, baby. Your-” he took a deep breath in. “Fuck, you're doing so good baby,” you whined out in response. 

Joel could feel his orgasm approaching. He gritted his teeth together, “Fuck! Come one baby m’ so close. Needa to come first. Make me all wet.” he cursed. You grabbed his hand and brought it to your throat. You were so close, he had fucked your brain quiet.

Any sort of thought beyond his dick, hands, or voice was a lost cause. The coil in your stomach snapped, your walls clenching around him violently. It was enough to draw out his orgasm. “Fuck.” you both whimpered as you clung to him.

[prettiedup]

“You look good.” Ony states as he studies the false lashes that sits on top of your eyelids. His tatted hand reaches out to grab your chin. Silently, he tilts your head right and then left. He slowly nods his head in approval while continuing to examine the extensions. You had mentioned getting a more dramatic set this go round, and truthfully he was a bit nervous, he thought he would have to pretend to like them. But, to his shock, the dramatic fluff fit your face perfectly.

“Thank you, baby.” You find yourself fawning at both his compliment and being under his watch. You absolutely loved having all of your boyfriend’s attention, no matter the situation.

You lean closer towards him, the two of you meet in the middle where your lips connect to. Ony never liked quick kisses. He preferred to take his time gliding his tongue into your mouth, and sucking on your tongue. You were used to his antics at this point, and decided to just let him do as he pleased.

When he finally decides that he’s had enough, he pulls away from you. His eyes dart down to your lips before trailing back up to your eyes. He gives you a knowing smile when he sees the needy look you’re giving him.

“You aight?” He asks. He lets go of your chin, and adjusts himself in the driver seat. You nod at his question. Ony smacks his teeth at that. “Words, bae.”

“I’m okay.” You confirm.

He waits until you’ve buckled your seatbelt to pull out of your lash tech’s driveway. The familiar whine from his hellcat runs through your ears before he turns the music up. He hands you his phone, in a routinely fashion you open his apple music and begin searching for a song.

You choose a song you knew for a fact the both of you enjoyed singing.

You let the song play out before turning the radio down. “Where are we going?” You ask curiously.

“Imma drop you off at the crib, ‘nd then I have some plays to go make.” He explains.

Instantly, your attitude changed. You were no longer smiling. Instead, there was a pout on your lips while you gazed at him offendedly. Your arms found their way crossed against your chest before you even realized you were doing it.

Ony glances at you out of the side of his eye. Seeing you pouting and crossing your arms makes him sigh. “Don’t start.” He warns you.

“Why can’t I come with you? You usually let me come.” You ask in irritation.

“Cause I don’t want you to. Simple.” Ony responds with a lousy shoulder shrug. The stoplight turns green and his car grumbles as he accelerates.

You had this horrible habit of accusing. In your defense, the way you looked at things is like: my boyfriend is tall, dark, and handsome. If I’m attracted to him of course other women will be also. And so you found yourself accusing him of things constantly, sometimes without even meaning to.

“A girl must be there.” The words flew out of your mouth quicker than you could stop them. Ony had told you time and time again to stop accusing him, claiming that it’s both draining and annoying. You just couldn’t help it.

“Here you go.” He sighs. Instead of giving you an answer he just turns the radio up, blasting out any chance for you to keep your accusations going.

Your arms stay folded for the remainder of the drive. You childishly look out of the window the entire time, not once sparing your boyfriend a glance.

The millisecond he puts his car in park in his designated parking spot outside your loft complex, you practically hop out of his car. You don’t purposely slam his car door, you had used more strength than you intended to truthfully. Ony didn’t play about his car. The thousands of dollars he has spent adding modifications to it only backs up his claim. You knew just from that action you were going to be in deeper trouble.

The sound of your pink tory burch sandals clacking against the pavement, your numerous bracelets hitting against each other played in your ears as you tried to collect your thoughts. You didn’t hear his heavy footsteps trailing behind you which is both a good and bad thing.

You’re in the elevator when your phone lights up, displaying your lover’s contact. Your heart thumps in your chest a little faster as you contemplate answering it. With a shaky exhale, you answer.

“Hello?” You could hear the sound of his car switching gears and the clicking of his signal stick.

“What did I tell you about slammin’ my door?” He’s composed, which only makes you more anxious.

You bite down on your lip at his question. You look around the empty elevator as you try to come up with an explanation that was good enough. You were acting childish but you just felt undeniably angry at him for not even offering you an invitation.

“You made me mad.” Your voice is lighter and apprehensive.

You could hear Ony kissing his teeth at your admission. “Why do you not understand that what I do ain’t a fuckin’ game, mama? This shit aint sparkles and rainbows. I’m mad at myself for even exposing you to this shit. This typa shit ain’t for you.” You’re his babydoll. Pink, glitter, soft scents, doe eyes, and pouty lips. Violence doesn’t fit in your criteria, it just isn’t you. How polar you two are is what drew Ony to you to begin with.

The elevator dinged and slowly opened its doors. You step out, your grip on your phone tightening as you rationalize his words. There’s a frown on your lips that you’re positive Ony would have plucked away if he was standing beside you. His explanation made sense, and deep down you knew you had no business mingling with a crowd like that. Hell, you had no business mingling with Ony.

“But, I’m grown,” You whine. “I should be able to choose where I want to go and what I want to do.” You’re putting up a weak argument against him. The both of you knew it too.

“Yeah but that ain’t you.” He reminds you. “Running the streets with me ain’t safe. And your safety is the most important thing t’me.”

You hum at his words while you bring your hello kitty printed key up to the doorknob. You still vividly remember the day Ony surprised you with it. You guys had been together for some months, and were beginning to discuss hypothetical ‘what if we lived together’ scenarios. A few days later Ony had gave you a solid black box with a light pink hello kitty key in the inside. That was the start of something incredible.

“My baby’s so stubborn.” Ony could hear the sound of the front door slamming shut. Your sandals and shuffling played through his speakers, he had told you to pick your feet up when you walked, and like always, what he said went through one ear and out the other.

“‘M notttt.” You whine.

“Yes you are. But it’s okay, baby. Daddy’s got somethin’ for that attitude you had earlier.” He promises you.

You have to pause in your tracks. Instantly, there’s throbbing in between your legs. A surge of horniness courses through your body. This is how the game between you two went. You would pick at him for something—anything, just so you could act out, and so that he could put you right back in your place.

“You don’t sound mad with me anymore though?”You frown.

“That doesn’t mean I’m not gonna set you straight for acting out like that. I’m bout to pull up tho, imma text you when I’m free. Love you, mama.”

“I love you, baby.” You say before hearing the call end.

There’s butterflies swarming in the pits of your stomach as you try to imagine what he could possibly be planning. When Ony made promises like that, he made sure to keep them. He’s a man of his word and never switches it up.

[catastrophic-crow]

manipulate all forms of silica? a casual Tucker Foley Shatterbird AU is not what i was expecting to read, but alright. Slaughterhouse 9 inspired Tucker!

Warning for a bit of the ol' implied ultraviolence and also murder. so much of those things are implied. here we go, i guess:

(does this count as dead dove? i think this counts as dead dove)

Tucker floated in the air twenty miles outside of Amity. Above him, stretched dark skies. Though it was the morning, the sun did not shine; clouds hung low and heavy—but it wasn't raining yet. Below him, lay a sprawling complex belonging to the Guys in White, built up over months as they reacted to the rush of occultists to the area following Amity's disappearance, and subsequent reappearance.

They hadn't gotten Danny yet—

"Sorry about this," his friend slurred against his shoulder as Tucker dipped the needle into his flesh, ecto-treated surgical thread pulling taut as Tucker hummed inquisitively.

Tucker held the curved needle in a hand, pulled back a little to glance at Danny's face. His eyes were pressed shut. "What do you mean?" Tucker wiped his forehead with the back of his hand.

"F'r... makin' you do this."

"This—"

His speech resonated with the windowpane, below the human range of hearing, and Tucker cut himself off. He paused for a moment, and only when he was certain he had control of his voice, did he speak. "This isn't your fault," he said softly.

He kept his voice calm, soothing. Tried to distract Danny from the pain with meaningless chatter, all the while hiding his seething rage.

—but they'd gotten too damn close this time.

No more.

He'd needed twenty-six stitches.

Tucker refused to sit idly by, when the Guys in White were shooting at someone he loved; when he could do something about it. Sam wouldn't want him to do things this way; or, at least, would've wanted to go over the plan. Made sure he knew what he was getting into.

Tucker knew.

Bearing him aloft, the stained glass wings, of an Ibis.

Silicakinesis sounded like the punchline to a joke, maybe. Danny had thought so, at least. "'Controlling sand'?" Danny had teased, "look out ghosts! It's the beach superhero!" And Tucker had smiled and ducked his head bashfully, like he wasn't thinking about how many people wore glasses.

No, his powers weren't great for fighting ghosts, and it made sense that Danny's mind would go there first.

A ghost could turn insubstantial, allow matter to slip right through them.

Tucker knew that very well. How could he not? It was why they needed to use treated thread for Danny's stitches.

So no, silicakinesis on it's own wasn't well suited to ghost fights. Tucker accepted this.

The thing is, Tucker didn't come here to fight ghosts.

His powers let him control sand, it was true. It was also true that there was a surprising amount of sand in modern urban environments.

But even still: that, on it's own... tossing around sand could be useful, but it was highly situational. At least, it would be.

Tucker could do a lot more than toss around sand.

If you asked him to describe his powers, he might say that he had perfect control of sand in an area around himself.

That was true.

It was also true that he would be omitting some pertinent details, if he were to say that. Not lying, just... incompletely disseminating knowledge.

See, "sand" and "around himself" would be doing some very heavy lifting, in that sentence.

If he were to say it.

Danny knew about his powers, and ribbed him for a bit about not being able to fight ghosts with them, before moving on. Tucker let him; he wasn't sure how to phrase "I could violently shatter every piece of glass in this city," without sounding like he was planning to do so.

As it happened, modern urban environments had a lot of silicon.

Windows, sure; but mirrors, too. Cups, computer screens, eyeglasses, ...integrated circuits.

See, those fancy ghost-hunting weapons the Guys in White fought with? Full of silicon. Their computers? Their on-site servers? Irrecoverable. Any security system more sophisticated than a physical bolt or latch? Wouldn't you know it, computer controlled.

Tucker happened to know that the Guys in White had, to be generous, borrowed heavily, from the Doctors Fenton's designs, when creating their own versions of anti-ghost technologies.

A common element of those designs, when it came to anything more complicated than ecto-treated materials? Digital regulation of the power supplies.

There was no such thing as an analog ghost hunting weapon, not unless the Guys in White planned to start outfitting their goons with knockoff Fenton Anti-Creep sticks.

All their guns, their shields, their transportation, their communications...

An earpiece tucked into an ear canal turned into a bomb. If you were lucky, you would survive with hearing damage. If you weren't...

Tucker could sing at the edge of a city, and every window in several blocks would transmit and retransmit his voice, cascading out over the rest of the city and only stopping when it ran out of city to spread through.

And then he could scream.

So Tucker let Danny go with a joke, instead of pressing the point.

Sam...

When Tucker told Sam about his powers, about controlling sand with sound, she cocked her head, thought for a minute, and then walked over to her window and flicked it, looking back at him.

He nodded, once.

Sam tsk'd, and walked back over to him. All she said was,

"Guess Danny's not the only one with a killer voice."

Later, when she left to get them drinks, Sam brought back his poured into a tall glass.

He loved that about her, but Sam wasn't here right now. Sam was running around losing sleep trying to cover things up and harassing the shabby occultist that had showed up and started poking his nose into things with more insight than the rest.

Danny was sleeping off the injury, assuming another ghost hadn't dragged him out of bed this early in the morning.

It was a good thing it was the summer.

So Tucker was here alone, divested of his technology, if only to make things slightly simpler for himself.

He was wrapped in a suit of shattered glass, nestled against his skin like the warm and soothing sands of a beach.

Or a desert.

Behind him, spread the outstretched wings of an Ibis in flight.

The complex, Tucker knew, was far enough from anything—or anyone—else that no innocents would be harmed here today.

He also knew that even if his range didn't cover the complex in its entirety, his song would spread throughout the whole of it, carried as far and as deep as it needed to be until every corner rang with the sound.

If the Guys in White knew what was coming? If they were quick on the uptake? When Tucker started singing, they could throw aside their weapons, dig out their earpieces and get as far away as possible from anything with silicon in it.

It was a moot point. They didn't know about his powers.

Tucker knew that this would change that.

He also knew that the lesson would come too late to make a difference for some. For others, it would be remembered well.

From this day on, they would know that when the glass started to sing, they should throw down their weapons and run.

Run, somewhere without any windows, without any screens, and tuck themselves away in a corner with covered eyes and ears. If they were lucky, it would be enough for them to survive with only minor injuries.

As Tucker knew, and the Guys in White would soon be learning: exploding glass carried a lot of force.

A single raindrop landed on his cheek, below his eye, and Tucker knew that it wouldn't be long, now.

It was funny, Tucker reflected as he ran through his vocal warm-ups, that the Guys in White all wore sunglasses at all times, even on a morning that was as gloomy as this one.

...even indoors.

The organization didn't cheap out, either; not when it came to outfitting its goons. Tailored, spotless suits; shiny and impractical dress shoes; and of course, when it came to their ubiquitous and stupid fucking eyewear: real glass lenses.

No cheap plastic here.

Tucker had a feeling that would be changing, very soon.

He took a deep breath. It was time.

The heavens opened, and Tucker started to sing.

What if?

What if Pariah Dark getting out set off fireworks all across the supernatural community?

What if Danny was able to take care of things before anyone else that would have been able to do anything about it showed up?

Now Amity is crawling with supernatural types that want a piece of what ever was used to shove Pariah back into the sarcophagus, not realizing that it was the ghost kid that keeps play fighting with the other ghosts (and doesn't realize that the other ghosts are playing)?

Except John Constantine. He figures it out in ten minutes and started having a panic attack about how to keep the others from having the same realization.

[obeythebutler]

Mammon's voice rings in your ear, clearer than ever.

You can still hear him bickering about his latest scheme—the one you both had butted heads over—and then there was the mutual agreement of not telling Lucifer about its outcome.

Your eyes skim over the text in the screen, mind focused on the words, memory replaying over and over like a tape.

You ignore Barbatos's outstretched hand. And he lets you, not able to find it in himself to remind you, not wanting to interrupt what fleeting moments remain of you in this realm.

"MC," Solomon's voice is a whisper, meant to remind you gently of the situation. "It's time."

"Sorry," You blurt out, quickly closing your D.D.D. before handing it over to Barbatos. You don't look him in the eye when you do that. You fear your heart will crumble.

"Does this have to be?"

The Prince wishes he could refute what he had said earlier, but there is no other way. No other timeline where it does not end. No other timeline where you stay.

Perhaps all the timelines would have only led to once final outcome.

"What if they just stay? They are happy here, and hastening would only lead to future problems." Lucifer attempts to be the voice of reason, but even he knows that it is an exercise in futility. "Can....there be no other way?"

Your knees feel like they might just give out. Impending doom rests heavy in your stomach, clouding every thought, every action.

"I don't want to leave you all," You mutter, voice heavy. If you say the words out loud you're afraid you'll burst into tears. "You took my D.D.D. too, is it truly that bad?"

You feel the pactmarks growing faint.

You have always come back to the Devildom, always—with the knowledge that you would be back—whether by landing on Satan's head or babysitting seven overgrown babies. You have always come back, from the human realm or the past.

So why not now?

"I do not want you to leave, none of us want you to, but there is no other option. No other choice."

Diavolo's words seal your fate.

It wasn't supposed to go this way, it was—it was supposed to be you and everyone else going through each day like usual, not for this sudden news to come crashing down.

You fear you may never see them again.

A blur of purple catches your eye, and your feet try to escape before your mind can register; you're dragged into the portal by Time itself.

It's for the greater good.

Not for even the Prince of Hell or Heavenly beings to decide.

And now, there is only you.

You and a human phone and a human world.

[st7rnioioss]

۶ৎ FARMERS!DAUGHTER!READER x COWBOY!MATT STURNIOLO

˚𝜗𝜚 warnings... smut, fingering, praise kink?, secret relationship, mentions of a gun

you panted as you laid up against matt’s chest, the old bed beneath your bodies letting out squeaks as you squirmed, your nails digging into his jean-clad thighs, letting a sharp whine slip from your parted slip.

“y’gotta be quiet for me, darlin’. can’t have your daddy catch us, can we?” his voice sounded just beside your ear, dragging another whimper from your lips. just the thought of anyone seeing you like this made your head fuzz and eyes close shut, and another sweet moan echoed through the room.

matt had made you sneak out earlier, telling you to tell your father that you were just ‘running an errand’. but! matt had taken you to the roadhouse just down the country road. and gosh, had he adored watching you let loose, twirling around in the pretty white dress that complimented your soft skin just perfectly. he didn’t care about the drinks that night, leaving the roadhouse with more than half a beer left, but you in his hands.

hence why you’re here now… one of matt’s hands rest on your lower stomach, holding you still against his body, his other hand shoved under the beautiful dress, your panties tucked to the side as his fingers relentlessly make their way in and out of your sloppy cunt. his palm occasionally makes contact with your clit, eliciting a soft moan from you.

“matt! i can’t! please, please, please..” you blabbered, attempting to close your legs, but it was impossible from his legs locked around yours, keeping you spread open just for him. his fingers continued their languid movements, curling just perfectly to nudge at that sweet spot within you.

he was enjoying every second of this. watching his little angel fall completely apart beneath him, seeing him ruin you, from just his fingers. this wasn’t even the beginning of what he had of plans.

“nuh, uh. you can, baby. or i’ll stop..” he chuckled when he felt you immediately shake your head pathetically, nails digging further into the dark-washed denim with a whine of disagreement. you had to be quiet because he was well aware that your daddy had a well-beloved shotgun, and he wasn’t afraid to use it.

the whole situation has your head spinning. sure, you’ve done this before - alone. you’re so aroused from him reaching further than you could ever dream to attempt yourself, throwing your head back against his shoulder, feeling his chin rest on your collarbone to take a peek at his fingers thrust in and out of your sweet hole. “you’re so fuckin’ pretty, darlin’… cum for me.” his accent was thick, making your stomach churn and walls clench around his digits.

your eyes fell shut, back arching as his thumb made contact with your soft bud, his hand on your stomach sneaking its way to your mouth, muffling your moans as it became hard to hold back the sweet noises that threatened to slip, the only noise in the room being the wet and lewd squelching from your pussy.

“juuuust like that, huh? y'like that?” his hand tightened on your mouth when you let go of his thighs to instead dig your nails into his forearms and nodded weakly, your cunt tightening around his fingers that kept fucking in and out of your sopping cunt, his thumb not slowing the deliberate circles on your clit.

with a quiet whimper, you cum around his digits while he kisses and nibbles on the soft skin of your neck. “there we go, baby.. made jus’ for me, aren’t ya?” he cooed, slowing down his movements before they stopped completely, withdrawing his fingers from your sweet pussy.

hesitantly, he removed his hand from your mouth, his thumb running across your lower lip as he tugged it down, the fingers that had been inside of your pussy moment prior now resting on your tongue. as if your head wasn’t already clouded, it definitely was now, and it only made you want him to do it all over again.

“such an angel,” he kissed down your neck again, feeling your tongue swirl around the digits between your lips, before removing them with a pop. you turned your head to look up at him through hooded eyes, your face flushed and panting heavily.

“such an angel…” his words repeated, pressing a kiss to your forehead as a warm smile spread across your pink lips. “gotta get you to bed now, shall we?” you nodded, sitting back up in the bed as you tugged your panties back on.

“matty?” he turned around when he heard your sweet voice, putting his hat back on. “will i see you again tomorrow?” he almost melted at your words, smiling as you crawled under the covers.

“of course you will, sweet thing. i’ll be right back before you know it.” he stood by the edge of your squeaky bed, tilting your head up to meet his gaze by taking your chin between his fingers. “sleep tight, dolly.” you blushed at his words, smiling widely while looking up at him with those pretty eyes of yours.

“good night, matt.” you whispered, as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your lips, keeping his fingers on your chin. he pulled back, taking a look at you sitting there, all pretty in your bed, before pressing a finger to his lips as if to shush you, backing his way to the window. you giggled when he fiddled with the window, offering you a wink before he disappeared out into the night.

you were sure that night, that he’d just dragged you to heaven and back.

more farmers!daughter!reader here!

୭˚. ᵎᵎ tags: @jetaimevous @missmimii @mattscoquette @pearlzier @witchofthehour @elizasturn let me know if you'd like to be added or removed at any time!

© ST7RNIOIOSS est. 2023

[untilhiseyeheals]

Pretty Performer - Silco x fem!reader one shot

Warning: Smut. Shameless smut.

You opened the heavy wooden door to the bar and stepped cautiously into the warm, dimly lit room, already filled with people and bustling with laughter and the clinking of glasses. Taking in a deep breath you let it fall shut behind you, the sound of the heavy wood hitting the frame drowned out by the constant hum of voices and background music of the bar. You looked around, unsure if to just make yourself at home and prepare for your upcoming performance as this decision was justly taken from you by the grab of two nimble but strong hands that dragged you into the bar. “You came! I’m so excited! I had to beg beg beeeeeeg Silco to invite you to perform, you know, the bar doesn’t usually do live performances but I have been listening to your stuff alllll the time when I am tinkering and I just had to have you play here!”. Two long blue pigtails swung through the air as Jinx dragged you eagerly towards the little prepared stage in one corner of the room. A breath caught itself in your throat as you were well aware of what a dangerous environment you found yourself in, even with this situation being painted by a welcoming atmosphere, you couldn't help but feel a little on edge. “Thank you, Jinx. That really means a lot to me. I’m glad you like it. Hm… Is there any song in particular that you like? I can perform it for you, you know?” you managed a smile, thinking it's probably best to make as good an impression as possible with one of the most dangerous people around. She had already dragged you all the way over to the little makeshift stage as she whirled around to face you, eyes glowing with anticipation. “Animal Cannibal”, she exclaimed without a second thought and you smiled knowingly. Of course, one of the more, well, interesting songs. “Great choice. Will do!” you lifted your hand to your head and gave a joking salute as you turned to prepare the stage for your gig.

When the background music in the bar started to fade out and the lights dimmed, centring at the corner of the room you and Jinx found yourselves in, she jumped up onto the stage and grabbed the mic. “Hello and welcome everyone to The Last Drop’s first-ever live performance! No, we don’t care if you asked for this and we certainly won’t take any requests! Now lean back, lean forward, or to the side. Dance, stand, sit, drink, do whatever you want because you cannot stop what’s about to come! Give it up for (y/n)!” she shouted into the mic, twirling it around and pointing towards certain individuals that apparently had some sort of a reputation in the bar, as they gave a knowing smile and shrug before returning the attention to their glasses. She then jumped off the stage and joined the small crowd that assembled in front of the stage. Not much, by any means, but that only served to soothe your nerves that started to act up quite a bit. You couldn’t help but huff out a breath in disappointment as you let your eyes scan over the people in the crowd, not seeing him anywhere. Of course not! What were you thinking? It’s better he wasn’t here right now, the last thing you needed was the attention of arguably the most powerful and dangerous man of the Undercity on you. You took in a deep breath as the music started playing and decided to just go and get this over with.

So you started to sing. "I bite at the hand that feeds me. Slap at the face that eats me. Some kind of animal cannibal. Animal. Cannibal.” When the music started playing, the strain washed from your nerves and your muscles loosened from their tensed state. Your usual persona was swapped out to your on-stage persona, much more confident and slightly suggestive than your normal self. You can’t help it. You sang the song in a sultry voice, letting your hands roam your hips and down towards your legs as you scanned the room through half-lidded eyes. You didn’t catch him, too engulfed in your performance to notice the set of eyes that were glued to your form as you traced along the hem of your black dress. One eye blue and cold as the deep ocean, the other seemingly opposite a struggle of black and ember, like darkness fighting to engulf the flames of a smouldering fire. And he was watching you. Intently. Eyes never leaving you, he studied your movements, listening to your sultry song that you completely let yourself sink into. “How do I meet the strangest men? They always seem to find me.” How fitting. If only you knew that possibly the strangest man had become totally lost in your performance, in the way you seemed to ignore everything and everyone that existed in the world, becoming one with the song you performed and feeling the lyrics as if they were your own personal story.

That's what you were. A performer. So you opened your eyes, straightened up and let a dark, dangerous gaze skim through the first row of people looking back up at you as you sang the next words. “Who knows how some people turn to strange ones. Is it up to me to make them into dead ones?” a sickly grin spreading over your features as the last words left your tongue, hands raised to your neck, drawing a slow line once across as your tongue skims your teeth and licks over your sharp canines. You were looking dangerous, psychopathic, insane, for only as long as it fit the part of the song you were singing. A perfect performer. It was only between this verse and the upcoming last chorus you let your eyes wander further out, scanning the entirety of the room, eyes having become used to the glare of the lights that were turned onto you as your gaze fell on the man standing at the outer corner of the bar right next to the stairs up to the second story where the offices were located. You moved your head back from the microphone so as not to let the entire audience hear the sharp breath that you took in as you noticed his eyes locked attentively onto you, expression unreadable. He always had a certain look of anger, fury, and general disdain on him that made your skin tingle. As you studied his features a bit longer you noticed that this look was not the only thing you could see in his eyes. They were darker than usual, pupil dilated and fixed upon you, the grip on his glass unnecessarily strong as his knuckles turned white with the pressure he put on the poor object. He seemed like a predator stalking his prey and a set of strong goosebumps washed over your body as you realized with full force that in this scenario, you were the prey. It was a dangerous look that normally would have you avert your gaze and cower into the corner with the sheer force it seemed to emit. But not when you were on stage.

You drew in a final, long breath before it was time to finish the last chorus of the song, stepping closer to the microphone again, your eyes never leaving his. If anything, this drilling gaze of his only spurred you on in your performance. “I bite at the hand that feeds me.” you lift one of your hands from the microphone and bring it up to your mouth, slowly dragging it across your lower lip, opening your mouth and biting down hard as you show your teeth at the bite, letting your fingers slowly graze down your chin, dragging some saliva down your neck. “Slap at the face that eats me” Quickly you lift that hand and bring it swiftly down at your cheek, emitting a beautiful slap that reverberates through the room in the microphone. “Some kind of animal cannibal” Your hands continue their way around your neck and down to your collarbone, head leaned slightly to the side, eyes half-open again. “Animal? Cannibal.” You continue your sinful performance until the last note of the backing track has rung out through the room. Only then do you fully open your eyes and stand up straight again, looking over to the spot at the end of the bar. Empty. You huff in frustration and … disappointment? as you take a step back from the microphone and give the audience a dramatic bow.

Jinx was jumping up and down in excitement, dragging you off the stage the second you stopped your bowing and the light in the bar returned to its normal state, background music resuming more quietly. “That was AMAZING! It was EVEN BETTER than hearing it on my big boom boxes over and over again and that’s honestly saying something!”. You found it hard to keep up with her rambling, smiling courtly and nodding along so as not to infuriate the girl you just made so happy with your performance. Although you wished you had made someone else that happy. Your eyes scan through the bar, desperately looking for the enchanting set of eyes that so drilled through you just minutes ago. You couldn’t find him. Defeated you made your way over to the bar and plopped down on one of the barstools, gesturing to the bartender for a drink. Only it’s not a drink that hit the wood of the counter in front of you, but a similar little envelope to the one that fluttered into your room only days ago. You felt your heart stumble in your chest as your shaking hands picked up the paper, nails slicing through the envelope and trembling fingers unfolded the paper inside of it. You read faster than your eyes can manage, stumbling over the words on the page that turned out to be very few, and very direct. Upstairs. Second door to the right. Now. – S. In any other state, you would have chuckled over the way he signed the note as if it wasn’t painfully obvious who it was from. You knew better than to go into that office, what if was a trap? You dared to lay your eyes on him, lost in your performance, you were … lewd, desperate, horny. While your mind was still listing off the unholy effects his mere gaze had on your poor body, your legs already hit the ground and you made your way up the stairs before you could even realize what you had done, your hands knocked against the wood of the office door. “Come in”. A low, rumbling voice beckoned you inside. You took a deep breath and opened the door, stepping inside the office.

You weren’t prepared for what you would find inside. Your eyes instinctively went to his big desk that stood in front of a beautiful big stained glass window, letting in the faint glow of street lights from outside that tinted the room into a hazy shade of green. However, you were surprised to find the chair in front of the desk to be empty. Confused you furrowed your brows as that dangerous voice made itself heard again. “That was quite the performance you put on there. I can see why Jinx took a liking to your… music.” You traced the origin of the voice to the opposite side of the room and your breath hitched as your eyes fell upon the slim figure of Silco sitting on a low plush chaise lounge, legs spread, cigar in hand and those damned eyes locked straight onto you. You felt like you walked straight into the cave of a bear, deep into the mountains, stupid little bunny hopping straight forward into its demise. You couldn’t help the deep blush that spread across your features at the small compliment. If it was a compliment at all, with him anything sounded like a threat. Just as you opened your mouth to thank him, he cut you off with a simple demand. “Come here.”, his voice was low, eyes never leaving you as you made your way over to where he was sitting, unsure where to start or stop or what to do.

Your mind was hazy, his damn smug grin as you got closer and closer drowning out every strand of thought your brain tried to form. It was to no avail. As you came to a halt in front of the lounge, he sat up and leaned forward to a little couch table with an ashtray and two glasses of liquor, pressing the cigar into the tray and taking up one of the glasses, not bothering to offer you the other as he let himself fall back onto the backrest. His eyes studied you intently, you could feel his gaze wander up and down your form and how the little black dress accentuated each and every one of your curves before it ended, making way for equally black stockings, held up by garters in the shape of a heart. Like a perfect little black dress is supposed to, it showed almost a little too much cleavage to be comfortable, eyes drawn to the necklaces around your neck that almost beckoned the gaze towards your chest. You forced yourself to take deep, steady breaths but your body failed you as he took a swig of his drink and set it back onto the table, hinting with a jerk of his head to come sit next to him. You obliged wordlessly.

That’s when you realised you hadn’t even spoken a single word since you entered his office, the air thick with tension which you hoped was sexual nature and he wasn’t going to end your life right here. Hell, not before making it worth it. He seemed to have picked up on your dilemma, offering you a smug grin as he finally broke the agonising silence. “What happened? Swallowed your tongue?”, his eyes skimmed over your face, taking in the effect that his voice had on you, “Pity. Your performance almost made you seem interesting.” Bastard, you thought before you took up all the courage that was left in you, riding the high that was left from your performance and the reminder of how his eyes practically ate you up. In one quick, swift motion you turned towards him, throwing one leg over his and placing yourself over him, knees to the left and right of his, straddling his lap. That earned you a low, dangerous chuckle, as his eyes started at your necklaces dangling in front of him, skimmed over your chest, you swore they lingered there for a quick second, before coming to rest once again on your face. Heterochome eyes locked with yours, and there it was again, this undiscernible look that only hinted at the fire festering behind those eyes. He kept a cool and collected front, always, if he wasn’t seething in anger and exploding like a volcano he was just quiet and very laid back. That was a front. Dangerous one. You, however, were determined to weasel your way through the cracks that you saw forming in his foundation and he let you.

You carefully lifted your hands from your sides and skimmed the collar of his vest, toying with his tie and carefully loosening it a bit. A low rumble came from his chest as his arm was quick to catch yours and pin them down in your lap, holding your hands by their wrists with only one hand and a very, very strong grip. “Tsk tsk tsk…” he scolded as he used the leverage he had over you to push yourself off him to the side, never letting go of your wrists. “Seems like my eyes didn’t deceive me then. You’re a feisty one. I can appreciate that.” Well, it was fun while it lasted, you thought as he pushed you off him and took that as a sign that this night was not going to go your way. “What I cannot appreciate, however,” he continued, voice low and scolding as he used his second hand to fully undo the tie you so carelessly loosened before and bring it over to your wrists. “is someone acting so incredibly unduly in front of all of Zaun.” With that, he quickly wrapped the string of the undone tie around your wrists and tied them together in a strong knot, not being gentle and making sure it was tight. “Looks like someone needs to be taught a lesson on how to behave.” he finished, letting go of your tied arms and letting them drop into your lap again.

“Lean back.”, he ordered and you were in no position to disobey, leaning back on the plush velvet of the lounge, resting your back against the backrest. With a small, approving nod he slid off the lounge from beside you and stood up, bending down towards you. He seemed to be taking in the sight of you, breathing already shallow and ragged from anticipation, anxiously biting your lip, hands tied together by his tie, looking up at him with big eyes that gave no hint of opposition. Just how he liked it. “There. I had a feeling you’d be a quick learner.” he cooed as his bent-down form started to come closer to you until his head was right next to yours, breath warm and tickling your ear. “So pretty and willing, all tied up and submissive it’s almost a shame having to ruin you.” he whispered in your ear, voice low and gravelly, lips just barely grazing your ear. You couldn’t stop the desperate whine that left your mouth, which made his eyes flick towards yours as he slowly leaned back away from you. “Patience.” was all he said, as his long fingers found the soft flesh of your thighs, tracing a line up and down and along the heart-shaped garters. You sucked in a breath, skin tingling at the touch you waited so long for. His hands made their way, slow, oh so painfully slow, up your thighs under your dress, skimming the band of your cotton panties that had a little lace rim on top which his fingers quickly found. You could tell he thoroughly enjoyed feeling up every inch of you, making you wait forever and ever, each touch feeling so painfully slow that you wished you could just grab his hand and drag it directly to your aching clit. He was revelling in your desperation, eyes closely on yours as he observed each subtle change of your facial features as his hands roamed your body. Then he pulled back his hand from under your dress, making you wince at the sudden loss of contact. He smirked a devilish little smirk as he straightened up and sat back down next to you, picking up the glass with liquor as he watched your slumped-down form, already so messy and dishevelled from this little touch. “Stand up.” he ordered, placing the glass at his lips and taking a swig. You rolled your eyes. What was this supposed to be? Did he order you up here only to make you stand up and sit down and turn around like a little puppy? You weren’t having it. With one swift motion, you stood back up on your feet and made a step towards the door of the office.

Suddenly you could feel yourself getting yanked back hard and crashing into his tall frame. He was just sitting there with a glass in his goddamn hand, how did he manage to pull you back so fast? You could only hear a dangerous, low chuckle as you turned your head to look directly into his eyes. Now they really seemed like they were set ablaze. “Thank you, pet. I thought you weren’t gonna put up a fight at all.” his voice was barely a snarl, a sickly grin spreading over his face. Sick bastard. He didn’t want you to silently obey him, he picked you out because you seemed like you had a fire within you, so different from all the mindless idiots he was left to deal with every day. And finally, he got a glimpse of it. Before you knew it, he had lifted your tied hands above his head so that they came back down around his neck, which left you straining with no way to move, your bodies almost pinned together. That’s when his smug grin was instantly washed from his face as you closed the difference and started planting sinful kisses along his jawline, trailing them up towards his ear and down his neck. Your tongue slipped through, you licked your way along his neck, kissing, sucking, tired of this game he wanted to play. You could feel his head snap back as his own arms snaked around your waist and found your ass, cupping your cheeks with his hands and giving them a squeeze. That elicited a husky moan from you, spilling from your lips between the sounds of sucking and kissing the skin of his neck. He maneuvered you back towards the lounge and when you could feel it against the back of your shins he stopped, releasing your ass from his grasp to free your tied hands from behind his neck. Taking a step back which meant you had to stop your assault on his neck, he smirked as he undid the knot around your wrists, tie discarded to the floor in one swift motion. That, however, didn’t mean he allowed you any more control than he wanted to. “Strip.” he ordered, and you were only too happy to oblige.

Your hands found the straps of your dress and slid them down your shoulders, leaving it to pool on the floor. He once again started looking you up and down, although your undergarments were nothing too special since you favoured comfort over looks and, well, you didn’t count on anyone seeing those today. He took a step towards you, piercing gaze never leaving you, as his arms came around your back to unclasp your bra, fingers pushing it off your shoulders to join your dress on the floor. “Magnificent,” he murmured, as he took another step to close the distance between your bodies and started returning the favour of kissing your neck, hands finding your breasts and cupping them. You let out a soft moan, to which he responded with his fingers finding your hardened nipples, flicking and toying with them as his mouth slowly made its way down your neck to your collarbone. Again, he seemed to find special pleasure in making the process painfully slow, dragging out the moment as long as he possibly could, before the warmth of his mouth finally found one of your nipples. His tongue swirled in circles around the hardened bud of your nipple, teeth grazing it ever so gently before he decided he was gentle enough and took it between his teeth. “F-Fuck…” you moaned, hands darting forward to find his perfectly slicked back hair, burying your fingers between its strands, dragging your nails over his scalp. This led to him letting out a grunt against your nipple, sending a jolt through your body that settled right in that ever-tightening coil in your core.

Seemingly feeling this jolt, he let go of your nipple, guiding you to lay down on the lounge, joining you by crawling his way up, pushing your legs apart. You sucked in a breath in anticipation, as his hands found the waistband of your panties, dragging them painfully slowly down your legs and discarding them on the floor next to the lounge. He began kissing his way up the inside of your thighs, getting dangerously close to the wet mess he made of your cunt. Enjoying every second of this juicy anticipation, his mouth made its way all the way up to your upper thigh, directly next to your dripping cunt, nose skimming your folds for just a second, already enough to make you buck your hips involuntarily. He chuckled lowly against the soft flesh of your thigh. “My, my…” he trailed off and suddenly his head turned from the side of your inner thigh and the next thing you felt was his tongue licking slowly up your folds. You bucked your hips again, arms darting back to find his head again, getting a handful of his hair, destroying what was left of its slicked-back state. He ate you out like it was what he was destined to do, tongue swirling in circles around your clit, toying with the willing hole and slurping up all the delicious juices that you had for him. That’s when he felt like that wasn’t enough, and while his eyes flicked up to catch your reaction, two of his fingers joined his tongue. You threw your head back, muttering and moaning a string of words that loosely resembled his name as he slid his fingers into you. They met with no resistance as he pushed them in all the way, curling them up to hit that sweet, sweet spot that almost made you scream his name had you not turned your head and bit your lip. His mouth left your aching clit while his fingers kept relentlessly pumping into you, lifting his head to watch you squirm and hold back noises. “Come on, let me hear you.” he growled, as he once again curled his fingers right where you needed them and thrust them into you. “F-Fuck. Silco. Your fingers feel so good. I’m… I-... S… So close” you muttered against the side of the lounge, breath ragged and speaking made hard by the continuous assault of his fingers that felt like knocking all the air out of your lungs. That only seemed to spur him on more. “Good. Come on my hand for me.”, he ordered and slipped in a third finger, curling them once again, one last thrust sending you over the edge and bringing the knot in your stomach to explode. “Yes… S-Silco!”, you almost chanted his name like a prayer as the feeling of sweet release washed over you, making your vision blurry and your head fuzzy. His hands slowed down their movements, letting you ride it out as you bucked your hips lazily against his hand until he withdrew it.

You carefully opened your eyes and the knot in your stomach began to churn anew as you took in the sight before you. Silco had straightened up on the lounge, still between your thighs, vest slightly agape for a lack of tie, hair dishevelled with strands falling into his face. His face, gods, his face. It was flushed from the heat, his sweat mixing with your juices that coated his nose and mouth and that bastard was grinning as he took the fingers that were just inside you to his mouth, licking them clean of your remnants. You were determined to wipe the grin from his face once again as you tried to use your elbows to prop yourself up and get yourself into a halfway seated position resting on your palms. Well, you made it halfway from the elbow stance to the palms as your arms remembered they felt like jelly and gave up on you, leaving you plopping back onto the velvet cushions of the lounge with the back of your head. Silco watched this and chuckled. “Dear, don’t overestimate your strength. Give yourself a moment.” You didn’t want a moment. As you set to try your endeavours a second time, he suddenly bent back down over you, his arms resting on either side of your chest, face flush to yours. “I said, give it a moment,” he warned, voice low and dangerous again, a glint shimmering through his eyes. You shook your head and decided that if your arms could not support you to steady yourself, you might as well use them to pull him in.

Easier said than done, you lifted your arms and dropped them behind his neck, hands gripping the fabric of his vest on the shoulders. He let out another chuckle and shakes his head. “You won’t let go, hm?”, he cooed as he brought his face closer to yours. He hasn’t kissed you yet. You hadn’t dared to- this didn’t seem like a situation… You couldn’t finish your thought before his lips found yours, hungry, devouring you, tongue pushing its way into your mouth. He didn’t need to ask permission or wait, be gentle, or anything. And he knew. You moaned into the kiss as you felt his tongue twirling with yours, pushing hungrily into your mouth, determined to explore it in its entirety. Even though the kiss was drenched in desire and want, it almost felt a tinge gentle. You were sure you imagined that part. The knot in your stomach tightened at the feeling, itching to be released anew. “S-Silco… Please….”, was all you managed to pathetically wince out between kisses. He broke the kiss and leaned back a bit. There it was again, this grin. “What is it? Use your words, dear.” he spoke, voice dripping with sarcasm. You looked back up at him with the most longing and pathetic look you had in you and said “Please… Fuck me.”

That was all he needed, hands quick to unbutton his pants and sliding them down just enough to free the length of his hard cock that surely was similarly aching to be freed like the knot in your stomach. He was already dripping precum which made you a little proud of yourself, seeing that all this mess hadn’t just affected you. He was human after all. You didn't have a lot of time to revel in that thought though, as he quickly came back down towards you, tip of his cock hitting your aching clit. You winced and at this point, you didn’t care how you sounded anymore. “Please, please Silco”, all you could do was whimper his name in pleas to end your suffering and finally fuck you. He seemed to enjoy that most as he took his sweet time, dragging his tip through your folds, playing with your clit, lining himself up only to let it glide upwards between you again. You had enough. Determined you bucked your hips against him as he toyed with you once again, pulling him in just enough so his head was entering you.

He hissed, seemingly pissed off for just a second before the feeling of your cunt around him soothed all his anger and he couldn’t help but fully push himself inside you. You gasped, and let out an unholy animalistic noise as your hands tried to grasp onto the velvet of the lounge in support. That did it, the last part of resolve he had in him was crumbling at that unruly noise you just let out. He was relentless, quick-paced thrusts deep into you, losing himself in the way your walls clenched around him. Your hands, not finding any support with the lounge, latched onto his shoulders and dragged down his back, nails leaving marks in their wake. The noises he made were impossible to describe and even more impossible to endure. Your own were similarly unruly, you simply didn’t care anymore. There was no way you were withstanding this long, as you could feel your release inching closer and closer. He could feel it too, your walls clenching around him as he bottomed out into you, thrust after thrust, again and again. “S..Silco.. I’m.. I’m gonna..”, you tried your best to form any semblance of words as you felt yourself approaching the edge. One of his hands found your clit, fingers circling over it as he kept fucking you at a relentless pace. That did it and you felt yourself being thrown over the edge as the knot in your stomach exploded again making you clench uncontrollably around his cock. His breathing grew more ragged, thrusts sloppy and losing their rhythm as he fucked you through your high and chased his own. Just as he started to twitch he pulled out and spilt himself all over your stomach, panting heavily, letting out more of these groans and sounds that you would for sure hear in your head for days to come.

He remained hovering over you for a second, lazily stroking himself before getting up and grabbing a box of tissues off the nearby table. You thought he would take a few and toss you the box or something, but he cleaned himself up at the table, discarding the used tissues and heading back over to you with the rest. He sat down on the lounge in front of you, taking one tissue after the other, gently wiping his cum from your stomach and discarding the used tissues… well, into the general direction of the waste bin. You studied his face as he did so, usually furrowed brows relaxed and eyes steadily fixed on his task at hand. For how relentlessly he fucks, kills and acts otherwise he was being… gentle?

[i2rizz]

Stuck in a storm Pt.1

Summary: You get stuck in a storm with the Blue Lock boys.. how will they react?

Featuring: Isagi,Rin,Bachira,Kunigami,Chigiri

------------‐---------------------------------------

Yoichi Isagi

•At first, he tries to act calm and logical. He scans the surroundings, pointing out where to find the best shelter. "Over there—it looks like there’s a covered bus stop. Let’s head there before it gets worse."

•He’s the type to immediately offer his jacket even if it means standing in the rain himself. When you insist you don’t need it, he shakes his head. "No, seriously, I’m fine. Just take it. You’ll get sick if you don’t."

•Checks his phone obsessively for weather updates or to see if the storm will pass soon, only to groan when the signal cuts out. "Figures. Of course, the one time I actually need my phone…"

•He’s not used to moments like this and fidgets awkwardly while trying to keep you comfortable.

•When thunder cracks loudly and you flinch, his protective instincts kick in. Without thinking, he grabs your hand, his voice soft and reassuring. "It’s okay, I’m here."

•Later, when he realizes what he’s done, his face heats up, and he stammers out an apology. "Uh, sorry. That wasn’t weird, was it? I just… wanted to make sure you were okay."

•Deep down, though, he’s secretly happy he got to hold your hand, even if it was for a brief moment.

Rin Itoshi

•The moment it starts pouring, Rin groans in frustration. He pulls his hood up but glares at the storm like it personally offended him. "Just my luck," he mutters, his tone icy.

•He doesn’t say much at first, just scanning the area for shelter. When he spots a small abandoned shed nearby, he gestures for you to follow him. "Over there. Let’s go."

•The atmosphere is awkward at first because Rin doesn’t exactly know how to be comforting. Instead, he silently shrugs off his jacket and places it around your shoulders, avoiding eye contact. "Don’t argue. Just take it."

•Stands stiffly by the entrance, crossing his arms and muttering about how inconvenient the storm is. "I could be doing something productive right now."

•You try to lighten the mood by pointing out how pretty the lightning looks, and he gives you a sidelong glance. "It’s just light," he says flatly, but the faintest smirk tugs at his lips when he catches you staring at it in awe.

•When thunder rumbles and you instinctively grab his arm, he freezes but doesn’t pull away. His voice softens slightly. "You don’t have to act scared. It’s just noise."

Meguru Bachira

•When the rain starts, Bachira laughs like it’s the most exciting thing to ever happen. "This is awesome! Free shower, anyone?"

•He doesn’t even bother running at first, instead splashing through puddles like a kid. He turns back to you with a playful grin. "What? You’re gonna stand there and miss all the fun?"

•Eventually, he notices you shivering and drags you under a tree for some shelter, shaking out his hair like a wet dog and accidentally spraying water all over you. "Oops! My bad."

•To keep you distracted from the cold, he starts playing silly games like “Would You Rather” or “I Spy,” but his answers are always bizarre. "Would you rather fight a hundred duck-sized horses or one horse-sized duck?"

•When thunder strikes and you jump, he doesn’t miss a beat. "Woah! Scary stuff, huh? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!" He says it dramatically but ends up clinging to you instead.

•By the end of it, he’s convinced this whole situation is a “romantic adventure” and teases you about it. "See? Told you we’d make the most of this. Now we’ve got a stormy love story to tell everyone."

Rensuke Kunigami

•The responsible one, Kunigami immediately takes charge when the storm starts. "We need to find shelter before this gets worse. Come on, let’s move quickly."

•He keeps a protective arm around your back, guiding you toward the nearest safe spot he can find, which turns out to be an old pavilion.

•Once there, he insists on giving you his jacket, brushing off your protests. "I’ll be fine. You’re the one I’m worried about."

•Always prepared, he pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and offers it to you to dry your face. "It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing."

•To keep the mood light, he starts joking about how this feels like the beginning of a survival movie. "Think we’ll have to start rationing snacks soon?"

•When thunder rolls, and you cling to his arm, he chuckles softly but doesn’t say a word, just pulling you closer. His steady presence alone is enough to make you feel safe.

•After the rain lightens up, he looks at you with a gentle smile. "You okay now? Let’s get you somewhere warm."

Hyoma Chigiri

•When the rain starts, Chigiri lets out a dramatic sigh, already annoyed. "Great. Just what I needed today."

•He’s not a fan of running in the rain but picks up the pace slightly to make sure you’re not completely drenched.

•Finds a small overhang and guides you there, pulling you close so you can both share the limited space.

•Starts fussing over his hair, muttering about how it’s going to take forever to fix. "You don’t know how much effort it takes to keep it looking this good."

•Offers you his jacket with a teasing smirk. "But only because you’ll owe me after this. I don’t just hand out my stuff for free, you know."

•When thunder roars and you instinctively grab his arm, he raises an eyebrow but doesn’t pull away. Instead, he smirks and leans closer. "Scared? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you. You’re welcome."

•By the end of it, he’s back to teasing you, calling this the “most dramatic storm adventure ever.” But there’s a warmth in his eyes that shows he secretly enjoyed looking out for you.

[jayparked]

the overstimulation is becoming too much as you try to grind your hips on sunghoon's face. the soft haired boy chuckles, his breath tickling your clit in a tormenting teasing way.

"i'd tell you to use your words but..." he trails off, smirking up at you before gripping your thighs tighter and diving back into you.

your moan is stifled as sunghoon's best friend, heeseung, shoves his cock even deeper down your throat, purposefully not wanting you to answer the other boy.

"yeah, focus on me baby. i'm the one you really want, not him." heeseung holds you flush to his pelvis before slowly pulling back, leaving you gasping for air, a string of your saliva connects you to his cock. you're not sure why he's suddenly being so possessive, it's not like this is the first time the three of you have been in this situation. and usually he's the more patient and giving one among the three of you. you try not to question it too much, slightly too distracted by the feeling of another orgasm approaching you.

humming around heeseung's cock and clenching on sunghoon's tongue, you let yourself come undone one more time. sunghoon doesn't stop when your legs start to shake or when you start whimpering around heeseung.

"she's had enough man back off." heeseung pulls away only to lift you up and pull you against his chest, his arms wrapping strongly around you.

"i'm okay, hee. i want to keep going," you say confidently, but out of breath.

"great. i wanna taste you on my lips again," sunghoon groans.

"no, you've had enough. you just watch. or leave. i don't care but you need to relax." heeseung motions for the other to step back, his tone nearing that of a bite. sunghoon just shrugs, completely unaffected by heeseung's behavior, and leaves the room, mumbling something about going to get some water and to wash his face.

"it's just you and me, just how you wanted," you sing song the words playfully, still trying not to think too much on why heeseung demanded this.

"i...i don't know why i-"

"it's okay to want me for yourself. come here, i'm all yours." you pull yourself away from his arms and lay your head on the pillows, slowly opening up your legs for him. heeseung groans and turns away, one hand covering up his mouth as he clenches his jaw.

heeseung looks back at you for a moment before crawling on the bed to you, planting his lips firmly on your own. you feed into his fevered kiss, letting yourself get washed away by his passion and need. mere seconds pass before you feel the tip of his cock prodding at your entrance, but he stops just before you can clench around him.

"are you okay? we can stop if you're too sore." he looks at you with concerned eyes.

you can't help but giggle a little with how sweet he's being. "i'm okay, hee. i want this. i want you."

with that said, heeseung pushes himself into you until he bottoms out. he lets you both get adjusted before he starts moving and it doesn't take long before you're a moaning mess under him.

"f-fuck, i don't think i'm gonna last long if you keep doing that," heeseung says through clenched teeth, his pace quickening as you continue to clench around him.

"she loves doing that shit," sunghoon chuckles from the doorway, casually sipping from his glass.

heeseung's pace doesn't falter, but something flickers in his eyes, something dark and determined.

"keep moaning my name, y/n. i want him to see how i can fuck you better."

"so possessive today," laughs sunghoon again, leaving the doorframe to sit himself next to the bed, "don't worry, y/n. he's just mad i made you come so many times. he's not used to being shown up."

"shut. up." heeseung growls, grinding his hips so his cock reaches a new angle in you. and it feels so good, but all you can think about is how this will go on all night until the two men feel satisfied enough with their performances or their competitive nature finally subsides. but you know all too well that'll never happen.

for part of my 1k follower celebration send me a member and a number from this list and i'll write a short drabble about it ♡ masterlist

[cutielando]

knight in shining armor | r.c.

synopsis: in which Rafe doesn’t prove to be the biggest asshole around

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

The island was quiet, only the crashing waves breaking the eerie silence of the night.

It was late - much later than you had planned on staying at the bar. You didn’t go out often, especially not this late, but an invitation from your girlfriends to go to the bar and a couple of shots later, here you were.

Battery dead, walking home in the middle of the night.

It might have been because you hated walking alone, or because of the sketchy streets, but your skin prickled with unease and tension.

You tried to tighten your jacket around you in a desperate attempt to soothe your worries, but it was useless. The tense feeling wouldn’t go away.

Someone was watching you.

You kept your head down, cautious yet very fast steps carrying you closer and closer to home.

Only a couple more minutes and then you’re home. You’ve got this.

You kept telling yourself that as you navigated through the streets, but suddenly stopped dead in your tracks when you saw a group of men sitting on a bench, exactly across the street from where you were supposed to go just now.

The voice in your head was very adamant, turn around and find another way home, but there was no other way to get to your house.

Sighing and gritting your teeth, you began walking again, not sparing the men a glance in hope that they would just ignore you and leave you alone.

That thought and hope went out the window as soon as you were passing in front of them.

A high-pitched wolf-whistle broke the otherwise quiet night, making you stiffen and almost stop in your tracks.

"Hey sweetheart, pretty late to be out and about all on your own" one of the men called out, laughing at the end of his sentence.

"You want some company?" another one said.

"Come on, don't be shy now" a third chimed in.

A feeling of panic and fear settled heavily in your chest. You were thinking about a way to respond, to say anything to get rid of those assholes, but a voice stopped you from doing so.

"She's not interested" the voice said, rough and edged with a warning of what might happen if they didn't get the hint.

You froze, slowly turning around to see who had jumped to your rescue from the shadows. And your shock was even greater when the figure finally stepped into the light, revealing the last person you had thought you were going to see.

Rafe Cameron.

"Who the hell are you, man?" one of the men called out again, not moving from their spot on the benches.

"Doesn't matter who I am. She's not interested, so you're going to leave her alone or you'll have to deal with me" he replied, his tone low and dangerous.

It was the way he said it that made the men finally slink off into the night and leave you alone.

The street fell quiet again, which allowed you to let out a breath you hadn't realized you had been holding.

"Are you okay?" Rafe asked, his voice much softer now, as he turned around to look at you.

"Yeah, I think so" you nodded, even though your voice was shaky and your hands were trembling. "Thank you"

He shrugged his shoulders, like what he did was the most natural thing in the world.

"It's nothing. You shouldn't be walking out here alone at night, it's dangerous in this part of town" he said, his eyes remaining on you.

"I know, but I don't have much of a choice. This is the only way home and my phone died, so I couldn't call a cab" you explained.

"Where do you live?" he asked, his tone direct, but still gentle.

You hesitated, your mind wary. He was Rafe Cameron, and his reputation very well preceded him, but after all, he had just saved you from a very uncomfortable situation. And the walk towards your house only got sketchier.

"Near the south docks" you finally replied, making him nod.

"I'll walk you" he said, falling into step with you, his hands stuffed into the front pockets of his jeans.

The silence between the two of you was awkward at first, neither of you saying anything. But as the minutes passed, you found yourself sneaking glances at the Cameron boy. He didn't seem dangerous or crazy as people had claimed him to be, he was... normal.

"You don't have to walk me home, you know" you said after a little while, breaking the awkward silence.

"Yeah, I do" he replied, his tone neutral.

"Why? You don't even know me" you pointed out.

He shrugged, the corners of his mouth threatening to turn into a faint smirk.

"I don't like seeing people get pushed around" he said.

It was a very simple and straightforward answer, but the fact that it came from Rafe Cameron was the big surprise.

You had heard many stories about Rafe Cameron from different people on the island, but none of those matched the Rafe Cameron currently walking you home to make sure nothing happened to you.

By the time you had reached your house, the tension between the two of you had slowly disappeared and the heaviness on your chest had eased.

"Thanks again, for saving me and walking me home" you said as you stopped in front of the house.

"Get inside safe, okay?" he said, his eyes finding yours.

You nodded, smiling a little.

"I'll see you around" you said before turning around and walking towards your front door, stealing one last look at him before entering the house.

Maybe the island didn't know Rafe as well as they thought.

Maybe they were wrong about him, after all.

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[deputyrook]

Drabble - Sleepwalking

Word count: 1200-ish

Rook wakes up after Spite has crawled Lucanis into her bed in the middle of the night. Soft, short Lucanis/Rook drabble!

---

See, it was funny. Rook was pretty sure she’d been alone when she’d gone to bed.

Now, as Rook stirred from her sleep and shook off the remnants of the dream she’d been having- something about Assan stealing her copy of Swords and Shields and having to chase after him- she realized someone had crawled into bed with her.

Bracketed against her chaise, Rook was lying on her side facing inward, her back to the fishtank and whoever had decided to come in for a midnight snuggle. Strong arms wrapped around her waist, and a face was pressed against the back of her neck. The beard tickling her skin and the light smell of coffee didn’t leave a whole lot of mystery as to who this was, which was the main reason she wasn’t already elbowing herself free.

Lucanis. His entire body was flush against hers, like he’d deliberately tried to get as close to her as possible. She’d almost kissed him in the pantry the other day, but he’d backed out at the last minute. Now here he was, one of his legs slotted in between hers, holding her pressed to his chest like she was a life-sized teddy bear.

Heat began to rise in Rook’s cheeks. Holy hell.

While she was contemplating what to do, she heard the sound of a soft snore in her ear. Okay, so he was asleep. Given how tightly he was holding her, Rook didn’t think she’d be able to extricate herself from this situation without waking him. Which she didn’t necessarily want to do, because Lucanis slept so sparingly in general. It was good that he was resting, he needed sleep.

Could this have something to do with Spite?

The embrace didn’t last that long, however warm and comfortable it actually was. Lucanis shifted in his sleep, his hips moving against Rook, and her intake of breath was so sharp and so loud she immediately knew it would wake him.

And it did. 

“Hm?” Lucanis groaned, face pulling away from her back. And then he realized where he was.

“Qué mierda? Madre mía!” His voice was alarmed, and he scrambled away from Rook so quickly that he fell off her chaise entirely, falling backward onto the floor.

Rook rolled over to look at him. Lucanis was staring at her, eyes wide, with pure panic written across his face. She was glad to see she wasn’t the only one blushing, as heat was quickly making his ears darken a mottled red. As they stared at each other, Lucanis’ mouth opened, and then shut again. He was speechless.

She couldn’t help it. First, it started as a snicker, but soon Rook was laughing so hard that she had to press a hand over her mouth to stifle the noise.

“It’s not funny, Rook,” Lucanis said, a bit lamely, but she could see the relief flooding through him.

“It’s a bit funny,” She countered, “Are you going to explain, or just lie on the floor looking stunned?”

With a sigh, Lucanis flopped onto his back, and ran a hand through his hair. His eyes darted to Rook before pointedly looking away from her. She couldn’t help but notice he also avoided looking at her fishtank, his gaze instead settling on a random spot on her ceiling.

“I have no idea. I think Spite is becoming a bit fixated on you. He was going on about wanting to talk to you, about escaping. He doesn't make any sense, half the time,” Lucanis huffed in irritation, “Normally if I fall asleep, he tries to walk around or leave the Lighthouse, not...this.”

A silence stretched between them. Rook fiddled with the hem of her sleep shirt.

“To be honest, I didn’t really mind,” She said finally. Fuck it. “I mean, you need to sleep sometimes. Better Spite wants to, uh, cuddle up than take you on a field trip.” Was that too forward? He had backed away after their almost-kiss, but then he had also, later, implied that he wanted to go through with it but felt he couldn’t. For whatever reason.

It was practical. Rook decided, sneaking a glance at Lucanis. Nothing to do with his entire body pressed against mine, holy maker that was hot, and also just so cozy? I think he can hold me forever and we can never leave this room and I’d die happy.

Lucanis pushed himself back to a seated position, his body facing her. When she looked at him, she saw a hard-to-read expression on his face, something between confusion and affection. It was a gentle, raw thing.

“You’re...” Lucanis ran a hand over his face, thinking, clearly still so exhausted, “unbelievable sometimes, Rook.”

She couldn’t help but smile. Better to take that as a compliment. “So I’ve heard. You know, there’s still a few hours until dawn. If you want to-” she cleared her throat, faltering, “I mean, Spite was a little grabby, but if you want to sleep beside me, there’s a lot of room up here. I know this is more comfortable than that so-called ‘bed’ of yours in the pantry.”

Ah, she’d definitely gone too far that time. It was like her MO, to finally get somewhere, but then push her luck and fuck things up. She’d probably push him away with this suggestion, too. And then she’d end up even more embarrassed about it than he was, because it made her feel just a little pathetic, to keep after this crush on him like a hopeful puppy.

But then again, she’d woken up to him snuggling up to her. So.

Rook blinked in surprise as Lucanis stood, and then sat down on the edge of her chaise. He hesitated there, as if he himself couldn’t believe what he was doing. Looking at Rook nervously, he said, “Well, unlike Spite, I happen to be a gentleman. So, if that offer was serious...”

Grinning, Rook laid back down, shifting aside to give Lucanis more room on her bed. He still sat there, looking down at her for a moment, like he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. Again, his expression was fond, and so vulnerable that it made Rook's chest ache.

Then, with a very soft smile of his own, Lucanis laid back down beside her, pulling up Rook’s blanket back overtop of them both. 

They both slept more soundly than they had in a long time.

[freakyformula]

pleaseeeee the honeymooners with lewis were soooo good 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻 you wrote him beautifully 😩😩😩 write more for him please im begging you

Since you asked very nicely, I will oblige <333

Saviour

Summary: You were supposed to walk home when you ran into a group of men. When Lewis sees what they do to you he can't let it slip.

A/N: Part two, anyone?

Warnings: Sexual assault, fluff, Lewis being a sweetheart (is that even a warning?!)

Word count:

Now, where do I start?

I was on my way home from a friend's house late one night, it must have been past midnight, me and my friend had a lot to catch up on and time slipped through our fingers. The night was uncommonly calm for a Saturday night in Monaco. I was slightly drunk, me and my friend had a couple of glasses of wine earlier, but I was still able to find my way home, or so I thought.

As I slowly walk along the streets of Monte Carlo, running into a few tourists here and there, them being way more intoxicated than me, at least they acted like it, smashing bottles into the sidewalk and talking loudly, I come to a stop at a red light.

I look around, there's not a single soul in sight. The only thing I hear is the familiar clicking sound of the traffic light. The air was chilly, I certainly wasn't dressed for the night with my short dress and blazer.

I click my high heels as I wait for what feels like forever for the light to change. I look around, but there's not a car in sight, what the hell am I waiting for?

As the light changed to green, thank fuck; I was freezing, I start walking along a small street filled with small artisan ice cream shops, cafées, and vendors. This street was usually filled with people, drinking their sangrias, mingling, and laughing, but now, I was the only one walking along it.

I can almost see my apartment building when I hear a whistle behind me, making me freeze in my tracks. I slowly turn around, only to see three of the drunk men I'd run into before.

"Where do you think you're going, loca?" One of the Spaniards asks. "We don't bite, you know." Another one chips in.

"I'm sorry, gentlemen, but I'd really want to get home now." I try to argue but to no avail. The men walk behind me, catching up quicker than I can react. I would run, but my high heels won't let me, and the wine certainly doesn't help either. "Stop, we just want to talk to you!" The third man yells.

When I feel a hand on my shoulder, I turn to see the three men looking over me with hungry eyes. They're conversing in what I only can assume is Spanish. They smell like alcohol and tobacco, all of them standing almost slumped over on each other. I was sure I could outrun all of them if I wanted to, do I take the chance before this situation escalates? My body fails me, and I can't move an inch.

The grip on my shoulder tightens, and one of the men, the one in the middle, grasps my hand. "Don't worry, we will take care of you..." He whispers as the man to my left moves behind me, sandwiching me between him and the man holding my hand while the third man seems to keep watch for any witnesses to their actions. Their hands wander, and I'm ready to barf on them all. I'm revolted.

I go berserk when their hands land on my breasts. I scream, I kick, I do everything in my power to get out of their creeping hands.

"Shut up!" The men try to shush me and the one in front of me places his disgusting hand over my mouth with an annoyed expression on his face. "Naughty girl." He whispers. "And naughty girls deserve to be punished."

And with that; a blow to the side of my face, and I'm on the ground, gasping for air. The pain rapidly spreads to my head, and my hand flies up to protect it from any more damage. The iron taste in my mouth makes me cringe, and I look up at my assailants.

The men, chuckling and talking in their mother tongue, lean over me. "Come on, it wasn't that bad." One of them laughs, grabbing my arm and pulling me onto my knees.

I'm dizzy, and it feels like I'm going to be sick any second. Together, the men get me onto my feet. "Now, where were we?" One of the men whispers next to my ear, lips brushing against my neck. I feel disgust bubbling in my stomach.

"What do you say, she's got a nice ass huh?" The men discuss my body as if I'm not there. When I feel a slap on my buttock, I flinch, but I don't have the strength to fight their touches. I shut my eyes and disappeared somewhere else, somewhere far away. I feel one of them slipping his hand under my dress, but I'm frozen. I can't move, talk, or fight. I just let it happen. When the men pull my dress off, my hands fly up to cover myself.

"What the fuck is going on?!" I hear a distant voice yell, followed by barking.

Then, everything stops. No lingering touches, no whispers in my ear, nothing.

I couldn't believe it. I'm suddenly ten times lighter. Am I in heaven? I thought to myself.

"Hey hey, it's okay. You're safe." I heard someone say, it sounded like they were miles away, but I could feel their touch on your arm.

That voice. Surely I've ascended to heaven, but I didn't dare to have a peek.

"Are you okay, miss? Do you need an ambulance?" The voice asks.

I collapse on the hard stone pavement when I realise that the voice isn't one of the men. I felt the voice grabbing me violently as I was about to hit my head on the ground.

My head is slumped and my eyes are shut, still in that lovely place in my head that I adore so much. "Gosh, you're trembling!" The voice exclaims, and I feel something hot and heavy on my shoulders, something that feels like a coat.

"Please, talk to me." The voice asks of me while I feel his hands on my arms, rubbing them to keep me warm. The voice is soothing and angelic.

I feel myself coming back, my imaginary world slipping away from me no matter how hard I try to grasp it. When I feel someone licking my face, I'm abruptly thrown back into the real world. The owner of the tongue is small and certainly has a very large and wet tongue. The sensation makes me chuckle, I must say, and I dare to open my eyes just enough to see the bulldog in front of me.

"Okay, Roscoe, that's enough." The kind man says as he tries to hold the dog off my face.

"They..." I start, still in shock, sitting with my arms crossed in hopes of protecting myself.

"I saw what they did, you don't need to tell me." The stranger says.

I reach out for the dog, which happily accepts my scratches. When I look up, I see him sitting on his knees before me. Never in my life had I seen a man that gorgeous. I'm stuck in his eyes as he chuckles. "Can you stand up? You'll get sick sitting on the ground like this. Here is your dress if you want to put it on." The man reaches for the tossed dress and waits for me to grab it. He offers his hand to help me on my feet again.

I hesitated to accept his hand, but eventually, I reached for him and pulled myself up. My legs are wobbly and I almost fall over again, but the man holds me up with his strong arms. "Shhh, you okay?" He whispers.

"Y-yeah." You reply.

"I'm Lewis, and you are?" He offers me a handshake.

"I'm Y/N." I say as I grab his hand. His handshake was powerful, and his larger hand swallowed my hand.

"I-I'm sorry, for this." I quickly follow up.

Lewis stops in his tracks and locks his eyes with mine. "Y/N, none of this is your fault. You know that right?"

"I know but-"

"No... No but's."

I shut my mouth upon hearing that and Lewis looks down at me with warmth.

"Come here, I'll carry you." Lewis says as he picks me up and starts walking with Roscoe in close tow. His musky cologne made my heart flutter, and the sensation made me blush which he surely noticed. His arms felt like home, for lack of a better word, and his smile made my heart skip a beat.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"You'll see." Lewis quickly answers.

I lift my eyebrow, and he notices, followed by a sigh.

"Don't worry, we're going to my place. It's not far, I promise."

The thought of going to a stranger's place seemed stupid, but in my defence, I hit my head and blamed my lack of judgment on that.

As he carries me through the streets of Monaco, and we get to know each other, he smiles at me when we get to the topic of how we ended up in Monaco, of all places.

"Fate, really. I wasn't supposed to move here, but I was offered a job and took it without thinking it through." I explain.

Lewis is left silent and slows down as he processes my words.

"So... Now you're unhappy?" He asks.

"No. Not at all, I love it here, mostly anyway." I admit, and I give my head a rub, feeling a slight bump forming where I hit my head.

Lewis notices my change in mood, and stops. "You okay?" He asks, worry evident in his voice.

"Yeah, I think I hit my head harder than I first thought."

Lewis nods and speeds up his steps. "Let's get you something cold to put on that."

As we walk past one of the fancier apartment blocks, I audibly gasp at the cars parked outside. Lamborghini, Ferrari, Audi, Mercedes. "Why are we here?" I ask.

"Because this is where I live, Y/N."

What? This, is where he lived? I had so many questions. "Okay, Lewis, timeout! Let me down, please!" He does as I ask, the gentleman, despite his protests.

"Who are you?" I ask, expecting an honest answer.

"I'm Lewis Hamilton."

"Nice to meet you, Lewis Hamilton. Why do you bring me here?"

"This is where I live?" He says as if it's the most obvious thing in the universe.

"Okay... So, are you part of the mafia or something?" I chuckle, half joking.

Lewis lets out a laugh, and looks down at my smaller figure, "No, Y/N, I drive."

"Like taxis and stuff?" I ask, still not catching on.

Lewis blinks at me and continues. "No, I drive in Formula 1."

Now, I hadn't heard of his name before, but I definitely knew of Formula 1. Me and my family used to watch it when I was young. You know, the Schumacher vs Häkkinen era. I can feel my eyes becoming bigger and bigger as his words penetrate my mind.

"Formula 1?" I ask, needing confirmation.

"Formula 1." He nods.

"What the fuck, Lewis!" I can't help my heightened tone. "Why didn't you tell me before?"

Lewis's eyes are still glued on me; worry painted on his face, but still calm as a cucumber with his hand out in case I faint.

"Hello Florian, beautiful evening, is it not?" Lewis says to the doorman, as the man holds the door for us as we step inside the grand hall. I stop, just to take everything in, the marble floors, the handpainted paintings on the walls, and the huge crystal chandeliers.

"Come on, let's get you upstairs." Lewis says as he softly grabs my hand and leads me to the elevator. While we wait for it to come down, I bend down to scratch Roscoe, which he seems happy with as he leans into my touch. "He likes you." Lewis concludes and smiles at me as I look up at him. "He tends to be wary of strangers."

I hear a "ding" and the elevator doors open. Lewis leads me in with Roscoe following my footsteps, licking my bare leg as if he wants to comfort me.

"You okay?" He asks.

"Yes." I say, dragging out the "s". I smile at him to look more convincing, but in reality, it felt like I had been run over. I'm sure I looked a mess too, hence why he asked.

"Here we are." Lewis says and offers me his hand to take me to his entryway.

"I can walk just fine, you know that right?" I giggle.

"I don't take any risks." Lewis simply replies.

His keys clink as he pulls them out of his pocket and unlocks the door.

"Go ahead." He says as he ushers me into the hallway.

The smell of his apartment was expensive. I felt like I couldn't touch anything, as if I would contaminate the grandness of his space if I did. So I just stood there, like a proper fool.

"Please..." He chuckles. "Would you like something to drink? Perhaps some juice?"

I'm left in the hallway as Roscoe lazily walks in, and turns around to look at us. Lewis takes a few steps towards the kitchen and lends me his hand. "You're allowed to move, Y/N."

"I know, but..." I could feel myself blushing again. I felt so misplaced.

"Come on." He cheers me on, with a wide smile.

One step, two steps... My goal was his hand. After four steps, my hand landed in his, and he interlocked his fingers with mine.

I hadn't felt it before, surely because of the adrenaline, but now my body felt numb, and fatigue was quickly taking over.

When we make it out of the hallway, and into the main living room, that is connected to the kitchen, I can't help but gasp.

The room was spacious, and light. It seemed like the room was lit up even though it was in the middle of the night.

You weren't exactly surprised that a Formula 1 driver owned a penthouse, but in one of the fanciest districts in Monaco? This guy had to be really good.

"Lewis, which floor are we on?" I ask.

"We're on the top." He answers while he has his head in the fridge, looking for something for me to drink.

Sneaking forward on my tiptoes, I walk up to the huge window. "The view... Is phenomenal." I whisper to myself.

"Isn't it?" Lewis says, walking up from behind, with a glass of sparkling water in hand, making me smile and accepting the drink.

I take a sip and the water has a subtle taste of lemon. Refreshing. Lewis seems to take notice of how much I enjoy my drink and offers a refill.

As we stood at the window, looking over the Mediterranean sea, my eyes landed on something to our left. "Don't tell me you have a pool too?" I ask, feeling overwhelmed by how luxuriously this man lived.

"Of course." Lewis admits as he opens the doors to his terrace. "Come." He walks out, and the crisp air hits my skin as I walk out with him. I felt the cold cement against my sole when we walked further out towards the railing. There was a slight wind up here, but it wasn't chilly enough to make me cold, not with Lewis next to me.

As we are admiring the view, Roscoe walks out too, letting out a bark, demanding attention. Not from Lewis, but from me.

"Roscoe really likes you." Lewis says, rather flabbergasted, as he walks off. I follow his movements at the same time as I cuddle with Roscoe. His footsteps stop at the edge of the pool, and he turns around to face me, giving me a mischievous look, and jumps in with a loud "Woohoo!"

I slightly panic, thinking what the hell the man is up to, and Roscoe follows me to the edge, looking for him. The water was dark, and I couldn't see Lewis anywhere.

I bend over to see better and before I even get the chance to react, Lewis' hand is around mine, pulling me in with him. Roscoe is left at the edge, barking for us to come up to the surface again.

When I make it up above the water and gasp for air, Lewis laughs. "Sorry, I had to!" He says, holding his hands up in defeat.

I splash him with my hands, "I'm gonna kill you!" I giggle, before getting up. "You could've warned me, given me a chance to pull my dress off."

"There's no fun in that!" He says, him too climbing up.

We're both soaked and laughing at each other.

"How did we just meet? Feels like I've known you for longer than an hour." He asks.

His words silence me, not quite knowing what to answer. It was true, Lewis was fun, kind, and caring to me, and it felt like I had always known him.

"I-I don't know. Thank you, for saving me. I never thanked you."

"Don't worry about it, Y/N. Now, I'm sure you're tired..." He says as he walks up to me, grabbing my hand. "Would you like to spend the night?"

I was confused, what did his words mean, exactly? "What do you mean?"

"Oh... I didn't mean it like that. You can sleep in my bed and I'll take the sofa." He quickly chips in.

"Oh! Yeah, okay." I nod, sleeping over seemed like a good idea? Right?

"Let's get you something dry to wear, come on." Lewis says as he rubs your arms.

Your clothes are soaked and heavy when you walk up to his bedroom, and Lewis opens his walk in closet, inviting me inside too. "Tee and sweatpants? How does that sound to you?"

"Sounds perfect." I smile at him and look down when our gazes meet. When he hands over the outfit he put together, I look up at him, not sure of what to say. "Lewis... This is Gucci."

"Exactly." He says as he closes the closet doors, and that was the end of that discussion.

Lewis is left standing there, not quite sure of what to say or do next. "Would you like to take a shower, or?" He asks.

"I would like that." I admit, and with that, Lewis escorts me to his personal bathroom. "I-I'll leave you to it, feel free to come down if you need something."

I nod, and watch as Lewis leaves the bathroom and closes the door. The warm water hitting my body felt like heaven in contrast to the chilly water outside. I could really do with a warm hug right now, I think.

When I'm clean, thanks to his body scrubs and schampoos, I dress into his clothes, and hop into his bed. The sheets smell of him. I take an extra whiff before I get up again. As I walk down the stairs, I see Lewis lying on the sofa, cuddled up next to Roscoe.

"Lewis?" I whimper.

My call makes him instantly open his eyes and jump up from the sofa. "What's wrong, sweetheart?"

"Nothing, nothing... I just-" I start, not getting another word out before tears flood my eyes. "Oh, Y/N..." He whispers, and pulls me into his arms, hugging me tightly. We stay like that for, I don't know, 5 minutes? Him just holding me as I sob my heart out.

When we part, Lewis leads me to the sofa to sit down. "Talk to me, Y/N."

I couldn't find the words. No matter how hard I tried.

"I..." I started. "I was thinking of how badly things could have gone if you didn't save me." I look at him with an appreciative look.

"I know, trust me, I know. But things went well, and I'm here now. You're safe." He whispers in my ear. I close my eyes as he pulls me in again, and I end up essentially lying on top of him on his sofa.

When I open my eyes, I'm confused about waking up in a bed instead of a sofa. And there was no Lewis either, or Roscoe, for that matter.

I walk down the stairs, and as the Monaco sun hits my eyes, I see Lewis in the kitchen, at the stove. "Good morning, Y/N. Sleep well?" He asks as he turns a vegan pancake in the pan.

"Morning." I say as I walk up to him, stretching my body. "Slept like a baby."

"Good. Breakfast?" He asks with a grin and a wink.

[muletia]

These obsessed Orian and Optimus fics have got me thinking about what if Megatron was just as obsessed with reader as Optimus, and they have a tug of war sort of battle between them where one side snatches you for their leader back and forth.

It has gotten to the point where you couldn’t even sleep in your own home anymore without some decepticon destroying your ceiling in order to take you away to their leader like a toy.

Megatron would definitely see reader as a tool to further his goals as well as leverage to use against Optimus. He laughed out loud when he heard about his nemesis having feelings for a puny human. If Megatron could punch his past self for daring to think so lowly of you, he would do it without a second thought. He is so much worse than Optimus because he doesn’t allow you to leave him sight even when you plead that you have to go to work.

Work? What work? You don’t need to work anymore now that you’re his queen. Don’t be ridiculous.

Oh, but Optimus… He. Is. Pissed. He would never rest until you were back in his servo safe and sound. He would quite literally crash out as soon as he found out Megatron took his beloved.

I love having two obsessed bots fight over me <3

YOU ARE SO BIG BRAINED OMG, these ideas are so tasty

okay, this scenario could unfold in several ways, but i see a huge comedic potential here. at first, of course, there's nothing funny about it at all, because being kidnapped by the leader of the decepticons himself to be used as a bargaining chip is far from humorous. but! let's say that despite the hopelessness of your situation, you dare to resist, to fight back, because you know that megatron doesn’t have the guts to hurt you. he knows you’re too important to optimus, and killing you gains him nothing. the problem is that by being defiant, you end up sealing your fate because megatron starts to take an interest in you. at first, he’s just fascinated by you, maybe even slightly amused. but this unimportant infatuation quickly turns into something more, something that terrifies megatron himself. it’s stronger than him, more powerful, more aggressive, and more relentless. suddenly, you’re no longer a bargaining chip—you’ve been promoted to a much worse position. you’ve become his partner, his second-in-command, his queen. someone who suddenly holds immense significance for him. and that is absolutely terrifying.

megatron doesn’t get to enjoy your company for long, though, because you’re quickly rescued by the autobots. optimus is, of course, ecstatic that the mission was a success and that you’re finally safe, but for a few days, you’ll have to kiss your social life and work goodbye, as optimus will insist on you being under constant supervision at the base. maybe during this time, the two of you grow closer despite the circumstances of your house arrest? and despite the paranoia wreaking havoc in optimus's processor, part of him is content with having you constantly in sight and that your relationship has warmed even more.

the same can’t be said for megatron, who is, to put it mildly, tweaking out. is he just supposed to let you go after he’s had a taste of you? after he’s grown to enjoy your company and having you always within reach? ha! he’s not letting go that easily. a few days after you return to your normal life, a random vehicon gets the order to bring you back to nemesis, straight into his master’s hands. megatron is satisfied—you, not so much—and optimus is losing his mind. this time, however, the rescue mission doesn’t go as smoothly. the leader of the decepticons personally keeps an eye on you, and you’re constantly watched by soundwave. but let’s say the autobots manage to rescue you again... until you’re kidnapped once more.

and here’s where the comedic aspect kicks in. at some point, your fear for your life shifts to irritation. by the tenth time you land in the servos of the great leader of the decepticons, whose most sinister plans apparently involve just keeping you here against your will and occasionally you patting him on the helm, it’s honestly just exhausting. the most troublesome part is the lack of autonomy—otherwise, you’re pretty much chilling as long as you don’t tease or provoke him. although, even that gets boring after a while. you just want to live a normal life... you never asked to be sandwiched between the boobs of two leaders who do nothing but bark at each other...