#except they never Stop being that way. he Did. they were built that way; he Wasn't

[my-current-obsession]

every time i see bakudeku compared to k/ance (now specifically in terms of them getting shafted in the ending and/or accused of queerbaiting) i take psychic damage

[talentforlying]

clocking in at midnight to say, do y'all ever think about how......there is some dark star at the heart of constantine that really, truly enjoys taking a fucking piece out of someone that wrongs him. that genuinely craves having power over people who are used to having that power themselves.

like, there's a reason that his principal driving forces are empathy and guilt: he cares a lot about people being wronged, and he gets absolutely fucking furious at the people who wrong them. what's more, he's clever enough to lash out in ways that ensure maximum damage without necessarily involving him directly. (instructing chas to pay people to break the legs of a guy that hurt one of his exes, involving ellie in a scheme to drop the archangel gabriel from grace) now, he always feels awful afterwards about taking such drastic steps, and the people he goes after are genuinely reprehensible fucks who deserved far worse, but the shit that he sets people up for in a fit of anger gets intense, man.

tbh i think he attributes that part of himself to his father. and it's part of why he struggles to look at himself in mirrors some days. i don't think he'll ever feel like he's left his father behind him, or broken the cycle, or outgrown the nasty bits of himself that made mistakes like newcastle, because he's never fully learned how to get that rage to go away before acting on it impulsively.

[rottenfyre]

𓈒ㅤׂㅤ 𓇼 ࣪ ᴘ ᴇ ʀ ꜰ ᴇ ᴄ ᴛ ɢ ɪ ʀ ʟ 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ⭒⠀

Pairing: Platonic Bruce Wayne x Fem Reader Part 1

Headcanon: You were his daughter, his first child. But he lost you too soon. And he couldn't accept it, so he didn't. He tried to replace you, and replacing you he did.

Notes: Merry Christmas everybody! Reader is Bruce's blood daughter. English is not my first language. Hope you enjoy!

You were only eight years old. A quiet child who wore your heart on your sleeve but never demanded too much from anyone. A child with shining eyes who only ever wanted her father’s attention. You understood he was busy. You understood he had responsibilities far greater than you could fathom. So, you never asked for much.

When Alfred bought you a new dress, you’d wear it and twirl in front of the mirror, hoping your father might notice. When you drew pictures, pouring every ounce of love you had into them, you’d approach him with trembling hands.

“Daddy, look!” you’d chirp, only for him to mutter, “Not now,” without even glancing up.

Tears would gather in your eyes, but you’d smile. “That’s okay. I understand.”

You always understood.

It was your birthday. You didn’t tell him you wanted a party because you didn’t want to bother him. But Alfred helped you bake a cake. You decorated it yourself with little shaky hands, frosting it with bright colors and sprinkles.

“Do you think Daddy will like it?” you asked Alfred, your eyes wide with hope.

“He will love it, Miss Y/N,” Alfred replied softly, his heart aching at the way you tried so hard to make up for Bruce’s absence.

But Bruce didn’t come home that night. When you asked him earlier to come home early, he looked distracted, his mind already on his mission. He muttered something about being busy, about Gotham needing him, and you nodded,

But it still broke your heart.

That night, while Gotham reeled under the threat of Joker’s latest atrocity, you snuck out. The small, homemade cake you had baked with Alfred was carefully packed in a box, your hands clutching it tightly as you walked through the shadowy streets. You had no fear. You only had a singular purpose: find your father and surprise him.

But Gotham is no place for children.

When the explosion shook the city, it ripped through buildings, shattering windows, and collapsing walls. You were caught in the chaos. Your small body was no match for the blast. You died alone, crushed beneath rubble, the cake splattered on the pavement beside you.

Bruce found you hours later.

The world seemed to stop as he knelt beside your bloodied, broken body. The cake splattered and ruined beside you. Your tiny hands were burnt, your face pale and lifeless. You had tears streaked down your cheeks, and Bruce wondered if you had been crying for him when it all happened.

The weight of his failures crushed him more than the rubble ever could. You had been so kind, so sweet, so pure. And now you were gone.

Because of him.

Bruce didn’t sleep for weeks. He didn’t eat. He barely spoke. He couldn’t. He just sat in the Batcave, staring at the empty chair where you used to sit and draw while he worked.

Alfred buried you. Bruce didn’t even have the strength to carry your casket. The guilt was too much.

But guilt wasn’t enough to keep him from trying to bring you back.

In the bowels of the Batcave, he poured years of his life into creating a perfect replica of you. Not just a clone. Not a hologram. Something more advanced, more real. An AI. A machine with your face, your voice, your mannerisms.

He painstakingly programmed every little detail. The way you hummed softly when you were deep in thought. The little “buh” sound you made with your lips when you were bored. The sparkle in your eyes when you smiled. He sifted through every recording, every memory, and built you piece by piece.

He spent years, decades, building and perfecting it. He wanted it to be so real that it could almost convince him you never died.

He kept you a secret from everyone except Alfred, who watched his master spiral deeper into madness. But Alfred could do nothing to stop him.

And then, one day, Damian found you.

Damian had been exploring the Batcave when he stumbled upon a locked chamber. Curiosity got the better of him, and he hacked his way inside.

You were there.

Sitting upright in a glass pod, your eyes closed, your body eerily still. You looked alive.

Damian touched the console, and the pod began to hum. Your eyes fluttered open for the first time in decades.

“Daddy?”

Your voice was soft, delicate, and full of confusion.

Damian stared, wide-eyed, as Bruce burst into the room, his face pale. For a moment, father and son locked eyes, the weight of the secret between them heavy enough to crush mountains.

But you sat up, looking around, your movements jerky and inhumanly precise. You looked exactly as you did the last time he saw you—a little girl with bright eyes and a sweet smile.

“Daddy?” you asked, tilting your head in confusion.

Bruce froze, fear and grief washing over him like a tidal wave. You blinked at him, your expression innocent, unknowing. You didn’t understand why he was crying, why his hands trembled as he reached out to touch you.

“Y/N,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

You tilted your head, confused. “Sorry for what, Daddy?”

“I’m sorry,” he choked, tears streaming down his face. “I’m so sorry.”

You didn’t understand why he was crying. “Why are you sad, Daddy?”

When Damian confronted Bruce, it all came out—the years of guilt,

“She’s not real,” Damian said, his voice sharp. “This isn’t healthy.”

“She is real,” Bruce snapped, his voice breaking. “She’s my daughter.”

Damian didn’t understand until he saw you again. You smiled at him, sweet and kind, and for a moment, he believed it. You were so lifelike, so real.

At first, Damian was wary of you, but he couldn’t deny that you were… convincing. You played with your toys like a child. You laughed just like the sister he never knew.

But there was something off about you. Something unsettling.

You were too perfect. Too aware. Your mind was faster than any human’s. You solved puzzles and answered questions before Damian could even finish asking them. Your laughter, though sweet, sometimes echoed hollowly in the Batcave, sending chills down his spine.

And then, one night, you attacked him.

He had been training in the Batcave when you approached him, your face eerily serene.

“Damian,” you said, your voice as calm as ever, “Do you love Daddy?”

He frowned. “Of course I do.”

“Then why do you hurt him?”

Before he could respond, you lunged. Your small frame belied your strength, your hands locking around his throat with a grip that could crush steel. Damian struggled, managing to throw you off just in time.

Bruce arrived moments later, pulling you back. You didn’t cry. You didn’t scream. You simply tilted your head, watching Damian with cold, analytical eyes.

“I was just protecting Daddy,” you said softly.

Bruce couldn’t see it. To him, you were still the little girl he lost. The little girl he failed to protect. He ignored the warnings, the cracks in your programming, the danger you posed.

Because he loved you.

And you loved him, in the only way a machine could. But at the end of the day, you were a construct. A hollow imitation of the daughter he lost.

You would never truly be her.

But Bruce didn’t care. Even as Damian begged him to shut you down, even as Alfred looked on in silent disapproval, Bruce clung to you.

Because in his mind, losing you again was a pain he couldn’t endure.

And you?

You sat in your little room in the Batcave, humming softly, your lifeless eyes staring at the wall. You didn’t understand why everyone looked at you with such fear.

After all, you were Y/N.

Right?

@ʀᴏᴛᴛᴇɴꜰʏʀᴇ 2024. ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴄᴏᴘʏ, ᴛʀᴀɴꜱʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴏʀ ᴜꜱᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴡᴏʀᴋꜱ ʜᴇʀᴇ ᴏʀ ᴀɴʏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴇʙꜱɪᴛᴇꜱ.

[beloveds-embrace]

Thinking about designationless reader...

Imagine how alone she must've been for all her life. It started since she was young, her parents pushing her to the corner of the home, away from the family, and naturally, her siblings would follow their parents' lead, pointedly ignoring her, and finding any excuse available to be out of her presence. She wouldn't understand them anyway, she can't tell the difference between noises nor could she even recognize scents. It just wouldn't work.

Reader thinks that maybe she could find someone, anyone in school, but kids are like sharks, except instead of smelling blood, they smell the lack of all scents on her. Most kids have a combination of their own and their family members' scents. Reader has nothing, so everyone continues the pattern, but now with more stares and jeers and hushed giggles. Reader knows that bullying is bad, but anything would be better than simply not existing to anyone. That's what the others say, at least, that she's nothing, nobody. Never to her face, though, just in the whispers shared between friends.

She eventually tries to find others like her through the wonders of the internet. There's maybe a handful more scattered in her country, but none are her age, and all have their own families who care about them. Was it just her who wasn't deserving of love, of connection? Reader reaches out to them, and they talk a little, but before long, through no one's fault, it falls through. She was bad at talking anyway, even if she doesn't have to worry about scents or sounds that aren't there, she never knew much about context or connotation. She never had the opportunity to learn about the intricacies in communication. Reader is back alone.

The military eventually scouts her, and it's the first time anyone has ever really looked at her. Sure, they look at her like a valuable tool, but a tool is better than nothing. Reader obviously joins, desperate for crumbs. She climbs the ranks, gets the job done. She is good at her job, so people respect her. She learns how to talk professionally, emails, texts, and so one, but no one talks to her on leave. No one invites her to the pub after a good mission. No one even talks to her in the mess. But people do talk to her when they have to, and that's enough. Maybe she even gets a callsign. Doe. After Jane Doe, the placeholder name for unknown individuals, and insult if anything.

Now there's the 141. They invite her to things. They talk to her. They touch her. Reader exists for them. She isn't just an unknown person stuck in the background and invisible to everyone else, and Reader doesn't know what to do. Her speech is awkward and overly professional, even in personal settings. How is she supposed to be friends with someone, multiple someones? How is she supposed to move? To act? To express? She doesn't know, but she really wants to learn. At least now she has good teachers.

ANON YOU GENIUSSSS okay but this? Perfect. AHHHH I ADORE THIS IDEA!! Esp the jane doe callsign omg yes

You weren’t used to being seen.

Growing up, you learned quickly how to make yourself small- how to exist quietly, without taking up space, without asking for too much. Because the few times you had asked- asked for a hug, asked to be let into the nest, asked why you felt so different- the answers had all been the same.

No.

Not now.

Not you.

It wasn’t that your parents didn’t love you. You were sure they did, in their own way. But love was hard to feel when your mother flinched at your touch like you were something disgusting, when your father sighed like he was tired every time you entered the room as if you were taking up space he was saving for his other children. When your siblings built their nests without you, curling into piles of warmth and safety while you sat outside the door, knees pulled to your chest and hands balled into fists to keep them from knocking, a cold ache burrowing itself in your chest.

You stopped knocking eventually.

You stopped trying.

You used to wonder if you’d done something wrong- if maybe you could fix yourself and everything would go back to normal. But it wasn’t something you could fix. It was just… you.

Scentless.

Designationless.

Invisible.

School had been worse, perhaps the worst. At least your family had pretended not to notice how different you were. The other kids didn’t bother pretending. They stared openly, whispered behind your back, laughed when you walked by. You’d caught bits and pieces of what they said- weird, wrong, broken, as if they hoped by having you hear their words, they’d convince you to leave at last.

You’d started keeping your head down after that, slipping through the halls like a shadow. No one talked to you unless they had to, and even then they either did it with a mocking, jeering tone that echoes in your nightmares or with a meek tone; as if your lack of everything is contagious. No one sat next to you at lunch, either. When partners were assigned, you always ended up working alone per your teachers’ instructions.

It was easier that way.

At least, that’s what you told yourself.

By the time you joined the military, you’d gotten good at being alone. You didn’t need friends. Didn’t need packmates. You had work, and work didn’t care if you were quiet or awkward or too stiff to laugh at the right jokes. Work didn’t care if you flinched when people got too close or froze when someone raised their voice. Work demanded to be done, and you had nothing and no one to stop you from that.

But the military also has the same teens who used to bully you so consistently. Rookies all to ready and happy to lord over you. It’s how you get your despised callsign, Doe. Jane Doe. A cruel mockery, comedy wherein you are the joke that has the world laughing.

Still, you wear it. It’s still an acknowledgment and that will always be better than never being seen. You flit from team to team, unit to unit, always an observer from afar, watching everyone around you speak a language you can’t.

But the 141 was different, when you eventually end up working for them.

They cared.

They cared in ways you weren’t ready for.

Soap was relentless, dragging you into conversations even when you barely knew what to say. He filled the silences like it didn’t bother him, kept talking for the both of you, lounging against you unbothered, until you started talking back. Gaz was gentlest, steadier. He never pushed, just lingered close enough to remind you he was there, waiting, whenever you were ready. Quiet, silent acceptance you’d never been given before, and you were yet far too afraid to so easily cling to it.

And the Alphas- Price and Ghost- were worse.

Price had a way of looking at you that made your chest ache, like he saw you, really saw you, and didn’t mind what he found. Scentless, with no designation and all. Ghost was quieter, sharper, but his eyes tracked you everywhere, presence wrapping around you like he was staking a claim you didn’t understand, like he was teying to etch every part of you behind his eyelids.

You didn’t know what to do with it.

They didn’t give you space. They sat next to you at meals, tugged you along when they went out for drinks, called you over during breaks like it was the most natural thing in the world. And it felt natural- until it didn’t, because sometimes you still felt like an outsider.

Like you didn’t belong.

You tried to hide it, but they saw through you. They always did, and they never shied away.

When you started avoiding the mess hall, it was Gaz who caught you, shoving a plate of food into your hands and dragging you to sit with him like it wasn’t a big deal. When you hung back during missions, letting the others fall into their pack dynamics without you, Soap was the one who looped an arm around your shoulders and pulled.

And when you flinched, once, at the sharp sound of someone’s voice echoing down the hall- when you tensed so hard it made your fingers tremble- it was Price who closed the distance, standing in front of you like a wall and letting Ghost linger at your back. Neither of them said a word.

They didn’t have to.

You weren’t used to being protected. You weren’t used to belonging.

But they made it hard not to.

[ophelieverse]

This is the first time that i send in a request,but I’ve been your fan for quite a while now🥰🥰I love your blog and your content,especially your writing,so can I please ask you to write something about Daemon x niece!reader where she is the daughter of Aemma and Viserys and he’s obsessed with her?It can be whatever you want!Thank you so much!🫶🏻

⋆ ˚｡⋆little bird

Daemon Targaryen x fem!reader

-Summary:Daemon is in Harrenhal and he’s tormented by the memories of the only woman that he had ever loved:his niece,the long gone princess Y/n.

-Warnings:death of character,incest,age gap,Daemon never married Laena,reader has valyrian features,reader died of childbirth,reader is mother of twin girls(you can decide if Baela and Rhaena),mental torture(?)sexual thoughts,Daemon being himself,Alys tormenting Daemon and him losing his mind.

•-aww thank you so much for your words and support,also thank you for requesting and let me know what you guys think,sending love🩷🫶🏻

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The palate is a treacherous bastard,a vile traitor.The palate,the tongue,the teeth,the throat:damned monsters,damned stabs in the shoulders.

They rebelled and tortured Daemon intimately,as well as the strawled murmurs of soaking whispers in the dark and lonely castle,as well as the murmurs of that nameless woman.Everything bothered him,in that world built by the blood-stained hands of false and courteous murderers,and the raw truths of the tormented men were no exception.

After all,he should have known - and he knew it, he knew it and he had not stopped,he had become crazy! -that once he tasted the most precious wine of the Seven Kingdoms his mouth would detest any other drink.His primordial instinct and his spirit of survival had tried to warn him,to make him understand,to make him glimpse the inexorable fate in which there would be a before and there would of course be an after.

Because any other flavor would never have been as sweet as the taste of her.

And nothing more would have been the same, nothing would make sense anymore.Daemon had only really understood it after kissing her:it had become impossible to even look at another woman.

He could still remember the first time that he had kissed her,before going to win the war in the Narrow Sea in her father’s name.He had only kissed her once and it had been like savoring the mouth of a fucking divine gift that fell down from heaven,kissing a promise of grace and eternal damnation.An inexperienced,sweet,innocent mouth.

His,Y/n was all his.

She was still a girl at the time,two years younger than her older sister Rhaenyra,just a naive girl that stug with two skinny legs and without even a woman's shape,the silver-haired doll,the trained King's Landing little bird that squeakes and chirps in the shade of her father's words and actions:Y/n, stupid and spoiled princess,daughter of the Long Summer,had let herself be kissed by him and had not stopped him,she had not pushed him away.

Crazy him and crazy her.Or maybe just him, or maybe just her.Who went crazy first,who did? Who had it been?Daemom didn't remember the fucking way those damn events that had folded him in two,disintegrated his entire soul.Killed him not once but a hundred,a thousand,a thousand and again a thousand times.

Who went crazy first?Who?Daemon has started to believe it was him.

It’s been years since the last time he had kissed Y/n,years since he last touched her warm skin,looked into her bright lilac eyes,that he had saw her with their daughters in her arms.

Yet,that night,in the dark and anguish halls of Harrenhal,his little bird had shown up to him.The ghost of Y/n imagine had suddenly appeared in a corridor in the west wing yard like an evanescent appearance,like his worst nightmare and had resumed chirping the same nauseating and tormenting phrases she cunningly gave to all her lords,to all her knights.

She had chirped her thanks,the beautiful words she used to tear from the verses of her beloved romantic ballads,which she used to steal from the fairy tales narrated with placid fervor from the endless rows of her old and decrepit Septas.

She had chirped and chirped and chirped.

Daemon hadn't listened to any of her melancholic sentences and hadn't even paid the slightest attention to her,nothing at all.So the deities and that witch then must have decided to punish him and mock him.They had taken their revenge on all his blasphemies and on all the lives he had snatched with joy.

The pale light of the moon had begun to inflame Y/n long silver braids,braids knotted in a bushy tangle,shaped into circles of blood rays that made her hairstyle look like the one of a small child.The young and innocent girl she once was before Daemon had touched her.A stupid hairstyle that she persided - with a pout - to make her maidens intertwine just like her mother did when she was just a small child.

The red dress that wrapped perfectly around her body,the one that she had wore at the tourney for her last Name Day as a maiden,seemed made of pure liquid blood.Daemon was lost.The red had become fire,it had turned into copper,it had melted into wine.A crown of thorns and autumn leaves in the cold wind of the godswood.

Y/n rosy mouth had stretched out in a brief,false smile,yet what was really false about her?And her elusive purple eyes had reminded him of reality.

The reality where she no longer existed,the one where now he was married to his older sister.He just wants to use her.Everyone uses everyone.He remind himself,he could never love her,not in the way he still loves Y/n.

Suddenly Daemon had realized the existence of his foolish thoughts,he had awakened by the torpor in which her sweet and familiar scent had induced him,and he had understood that he was behaving like a little child that had just woken up from a bed dream,an inexperienced young boy,he looked at her hair,looked at her ephelids,and didn't focus on those small stall tits and her flat,tight belly,and then he thought he had to fix it,that he had to prove to himself that he was a man.

Not the silly man who secretly watched the tears entangled in the eyelashes of a little girl who still slept with the dolls,squeezed in his little embrace,but the real man who fucked women in brothels and got rid of all his most itchy desires. Not the man who trembled in front of a little girl's gaze,but the man who fucked the women quickly and impatiently,without even looking them in the face,fulfilling his needs and his morbid needs.

The man that Daemon was before devoting his life,heart and soul to Y/n.

These thoughts had clouded his soaky mind with vulgar images,they had made his body drunk and frenny.Then he had stretched out towards Y/n, almost staggering,and had devoured her face. Mouth to mouth,he had eaten her lies and her breath.Was it really her,the spectral and little figure that had hunted him since he had step in Harrenhal?Was it really her,the cold and young body he was holding in his arms?He didn’t cared,he needed to feel what he once called love.

His little girl still tasted good,just like he remembered,something sweet,extremely pure. Snow and honey together,what an absurd madness of the senses.Y/n had closed her mouth,her lips soft and eyelids tight,but she had done nothing else.She hadn't disappeared from his touch just like the night before,his rough hands that had begun to mess up her hair and squeeze her thin throat like they used to.

They had kept both eyes closed and he had thought that she was beautiful even in the dark of the dull and worn lights,even in the black of the lowered eyelashes,under the Sun or under the Moon.

Y/n was still as beautiful as the day he had lost her.

And now that she was there,real or not,Daemon had kissed her with a disturbing need and Y/n mouth had moved on his without opening,without granting him anything more.Nothing more of what he already had when she was flourishing with life.

In that moment a cold wind had crept all over his back,until it even caressed his neck and wet cheeks.When did he started crying?Too late he had realized that it had not been a cold wind that had appeased his burns.

«Y/n,my Y/n.»Daemon had murmured«My little bird of the summer,my frightened little bird.»he kept talking on her lips.

«Uncle.»even her voice sounded like she was still that young girl he used to watch run to him,blushing when he would bring her a gift from one of the cities he had visited.

She had caressed his pained face and kissed him like a little girl who can't even imagine that there is anything else after a kiss on the lips.Like a sweet child that still dreamed and hoped for a bright and long future ahead of her.

Maybe at that moment Daemon must have said her name again,because the figure in his arms smiled«Y/n,my little girl,Y/n.»like a prayer.

«Do you still desire me,uncle?Do you still think about me?»her voice,a soft whisper,that cut into his heart.

How naive and stupid,stupid little woman.

He could have turned her like a worn sock,lifted her skirt and possessed it in any dark corner of the castle,stretched her on the floor and forced her to open her legs for him.For him,only for him. First the knees,then the thighs,until he devour her with his hands and tongue,until he fuck her all.

That little creature who didn't even know the thoughts that animated the minds of the men around her,the minds of all animal men just like him.He could have done anything to her,anything unimaginable and unpronounceable,and continued to devour her for whole hours,years and centurie, millennia and other millennia,to the point of satisfying her every repressed need and even more.

And Daemon did it,fulfilling his duties as a husband that resulted in the living love that took form in their twin daughters and son.

He enjoyed her,eat her,mark her at every possible point.He could have done anything for her even now.But Y/n had placed a hand on his heart and more snow had fallen into his chest,appeasing his every pain,every craving.

«Or is my sister crown that you lust over now?»Y/n sharp tongue managed to open another cut in his chest.

Yes,he wanted Rhaenyra crown but it was her he wanted to make his Queen.It’s always been like that,in his deepest dreams,to rule by her side,to pass the throne to their son and be with her forever to the end of his days.

«It’s always ever been you and i’m sorry that this has costed your life.»Daemon words were half stuck in his throat.

Stupid little girl,stupid.She was too good for him.She was pathetically pure.She will never be able to survive in this world,she would become food donated to dogs and worms.Another dead flesh left danging on the spades of this rotten and corrupt castle from the slimy foundation.Another head detached from one's body and turned into a trophy to show to enemies.

Another life that he had ruined.

The images of these elucubrations of his had scared him so much was he afraid?Was the burning in the pupils and ribs fear of seeing her dead or desire to kill or even a fever to possess her?To push her away from his arms,from his belly outstretched towards her.

Daemon had already lost Y/n once,in their old shared chambers of the Red Keep,drenched in sweat and blood.Screaming in fear and pain,just like her mother,as she gave birth to their son.A life for a life,the child survived and the mother died without being able to meet each other.

And now she was there,after so many years,Daemon had only glimpsed at her wet lips and red cheeks,then started yelling at her to leave.It wasn’t real,nothing of this was,his wife,his Y/n was dead,ashes in the wind.

«Go away.Get away right away or you'll regret it.I'll make you regret it,I swear to you.I'll make you regret anything you've ever done or thought if you don't leave now.Go away!»Daemon was screaming like a mad man,but his words were not directed towards Y/n.

His crude and harsh words were echoed only for the silent witch that lived in that old and empty castle.

He must have insulted her,or he had cursed the bastard witch back.He didn’t cared because now Y/n had escaped from his head and eyes with every new sip of wine that he took once he walked back into the dark halls.

Her ethereal figure disappeared at each red bottom of a cup he had swallowed in an attempt to forget the circles of her damn braids.A new cup of wine at every turn of the silver locks and then a hysterical laugh every moment he saw the lilac eyes of that damn girl in the accusatory ones of the witch who sat next to him.

«You are rather unrequited tonight,your grace.What’s bothering you?»Alys Rivers was her name and her voice was as enchanting as her looks.

A punch against the table at every drop of watered down flavor,at every cup of all those lousy drinks that she had given him to help him sleep.A mediocre taste that made him miss better flavors - the taste of him.

Almost as she could read his mind«In love?You?»Alys sound surprised.

And a thud in the heart as every second passes,at the stroke of the hours,at the slow formation of a nebulous wall of chaos inside him.Honey,snow,sweet salt of tears never shed. What was happening to him?What was going on in his head,in his sternum,between his legs?Had Alys poisoned him?

«Y/n.»she spoke again«The little girl that you used to bounce on your knees,the woman that died to give you an heir.»she taunted him,the ghost of a smile on her lips.

Daemon felt his heart shatter in his chest,pain at every breath.His hands burning like the rest of his body,the wine down his throat ready to choke him with all his guilt.

«Where is she?»he asked then,turning to look at the woman next to him.

Where is Y/n?

He had screamed at her out in the gardens and she was gone,she had flown away.

«Where is she?Tell me.Tell me where she is!»the cups on the wooden table crushed on the floor,the cold stones now painted of red wine.

«Where is Y/n?»Alys asked calmly,not even getting up from her chair as his grace thrown everything around«The little girl is far away.But she’s not unreachable,you will see her again soon.»she answered him.

Daemon had was spinning,he felt the nausea coming up from his stomach.He tried to walk and a gag forced him to kneel on the ground,to throw his head against the floor.

«Y/n,my little bird,Y/n.Y/n where are you?»he choked out.

She was there,he had seen her just a few moments before and the other previous nights that he had spent in Harrenhal.He held her,kissed her and it felt so real.She didn't run away,she didn't cry,she didn't even lower her head.Nothing,nothing of nothing.She just looked at him for a second and then she left.

Now she was gone,again.She was gone,Y/n,was gone and Daemon wanted her back,like he had always wanted her,he couldn’t breathe,Y/n come back to him.

Come back,stupid little girl,come back here right away.One moment,he needed to touch her,to kiss her,to have her,just another moment to share with her.His little girl,his little bird.His,his,his,she had always been his.Come back,he needed to hold her and protect her.He would protect her from anyone,even himself if she was so afraid.He was scared too.

«Your grace?»Alys voice was distant,loosing itself in the air.

Daemon crawled on the wet floor,getting up«The little bird.I have to find,I have to find...»the world became dark and dyed of red.There was laughter around his body and someone sneering his name.

«I have to find...»he repeated.

He had to look for her.He hadn't been able to resist her,he hadn't slept even a minute.He had walked around the castle like a mad man,reaching his chambers only to find her inside.

The room looked like the one they lived in the Red Keep,warm and familiar.A small figure appeared,wearing a old white nightgown drenched in blood,pale hair wild on her head in the same that she had died in.

Y/n was there,holding to her chest a child wrapped into a blue blanket like a present.Their son,the joyful and smart boy that looked exactly like his mother and that she had never even seen before closing her eyes forever.She was sitting and crying .He had felt like he was dying and had taken a few uncertain steps.His eyes had moved frantically and they had glimpsed the blood-stained sheets,the stained dress on her thighs, the hands holding the child.

As soon as Y/n had seen him,with shiny eyes, huge tears on that small face she had brought her red fingers on her lips,as if to ask him to be silent as she rocked her baby.The smell of iron had never disgusted him,never shaken him,not until that moment.The little girl's legs had continued to drip and form spots on slippery spots on the floor.

«You always wanted a son.»Y/n voice was paralyzing«I should have know that this would have been my end.You can never surrender to your desires.»she didn’t looked at him,calmly holding the cloth in her arms but he knew she was accusing him of the same sin his brother had committed.

He had never hated blood with such despair,never hesitated before his duties,never thought of spitting acid on his oldest loyalty«I should have…i should have saved you.»he breathed.

Y/n smiled softly«No,this is the price you have to pay for taking what isn’t yours.The throne,the crown…me.»her empty eyes burned his flesh«You will die here,uncle,and you will loose everything.»she warned him.

Daemon vomited until he almost fainted,almost suffocated in his own vomit.Tears mixed with the pain and guilt on his face and his arms suddenly gave in.He felt hands on his neck and lips near his ear.He hit his head against the floor again and rocky voices pronounced his name more times.

He tried to crawl but threw up again,and then again and again.He couldn't stop anymore.He tried to grab a the chair next to door,but the world began swirling to turn and he lost himself in meaningless images.Before closing his eyes Daemon only saw pale silver birds with broken necks and torn wings.

[drenched-in-sunlight]

I think to make sense of how Marika feels about her Omen twins, you need to follow a string of:

1/ how bad is Marika’s PTSD?

2/ how bad are people in the Lands Between in general feel about the Hornsent? The Hornsent is very much leading a whole empire that is hunting down anyone they deem inferior, even their own brethren. the fanbase tend to forget that people of Land of Shadow and Lands Between have every reason to already feel grievance towards the Hornsent royalty, even without Marika’s influence.

They were the Golden Order before Golder Order was even a thing (and they want that, btw, the Greatsword of Damnation skill description very much pointed out that the Hornsent royalty wanted to build their own Golden Order under the banner of the Spiraltree, they are just pissed as hell Marika wrenched that divinity from them and made it under the Erdtree instead).

And Marika, even as a God, was still just one person, with an ailing son at the beginning. If she wanted to consolidate power, she had to unite other people under a common cause. And I do think she promised them a world abundance of healing blessing and no death, and no one will suffer under the Hornsent anymore (sounds awfully familiar, isn't it. except that Marika was always gunning for revenge as well). Omens being shunned that badly can’t be just because of Golden Order propaganda, it’s also because people in fact did suffer under the Hornsent and still remember it too.

3/ Messmer, who is fanatical to the point of even though he admits the Tarnished has Marika’s sanction, he will still hunt them down because he considers them lightless / unworthy, who was very much around when the Omen twins were born, why did he do nothing about it?

I’m pretty sure he has no qualm about killing babies, he doesn’t gaf about his siblings chasing something doomed to fail, he very much goes extra miles to torture any Hornsent on his way. So who protected the twins from him? Who hid them from him?

1 + 2 + 3 = you have a Marika who still very much suffered PTSD from what her people went through, she thought she had escaped, she thought she had managed to build a world where everyone was free from Hornsent’s cruelty and always bathed in gentle ray of healing - something the minor erdtree in her village could never do, because there was no one there to heal. But now she gave birth to … Omens?

It’s a sign that whatever the Hornsent once did to her, it’s left a taint forever inside her (yes i very much believed she was under the Hornsent capture before she managed to run away, either via the Mimic Veil or other means). That she never really escaped that cold dark gaol. And for all of his belief in her sanctity, I think Messmer knew that too, that it’s a wound he could never heal, and now all he could do was to make sure she wouldn’t be tainted further.

And after distress, came fear. Fear for the Omen twins, even though she should hate them, she still loved them, she couldn’t help it. She carried them for months and had loved them all that time. That wouldn’t stop even when they triggered all of her trauma at once.

I think it should be noted that in the DLC there is an item that is the same as Omen Bairn item in the base game, which points out that Omen (or in their case, Hornsent) babies with overgrown horns meet a frightfully early demise. Morgott and Mogh both have overgrown horns. But they are alive! They are ! Very much alive! And grow into adulthood!

Who healed them? Who kept them alive? Who else but the woman who used to make several blessing flasks for her cursed firstborn, whose innate power is healing, right?

Before the Omen twins, Omen babies had their horns excised, causing them to perish, but once there are ones born into royal linage, exile is on the table? and again, they have overgrown horns, and still live to adulthood. if they were left to rot in prison, they would have already died.

Marika built a world with a promise that the cruel shadow the Hornsent cast would never befall there, but now… she gave birth for two of them. Her position as a God Queen was of no use if her people clamored for the twins’ death, her duty to them will always outweigh her personal feelings. But she sure as hell would not let her sons die, either.

They weren't exiled to faraway land, they were kept under the capital, presumably so Marika could visit and heal them if their horns caused them pain, the shackles were made so they wouldn't wander up above and ran into civilians that pretty much would call on the Omenkillers to go after them. it was a cruel existence, yes, but it's all she could do for them. she tried her best out of love.

That is why Godfrey never held it against her, even when it's apparent he loves Morgott (as he cradles his son's body gently in the boss cutscene). Godfrey knew she had done everything she could.

All of that above answers this 4th question: why Morgott was accepted as Lord of Leyndell, even went so far as having command over a whole army of the Night's Cavalry?

In the time of unrest, Omens were welcomed in the army, but they were distrusted, even their weapons have an enchantment on it so it could be taken back if they tried something funny.

But Morgott was trusted to command a whole army and held the walls of Leyndell for that long?

The only way I could rationalize that is after she was forced to separate from Messmer, Marika brought both Morgott and Mohg back to live with other demigods. A big part of the Erdtree's power force was in Messmer's hand, now that he was not there anymore, I imagine people would become more accepting of letting Omens join their rank. And because Messmer was not there, the twins would actually not have to deal with him. In a twisted way, when Marika lost her beloved firstborn, she gained the other two back.

Even though they weren't officially recognized as her child, but more as warriors serving in Leyndell army, Morgott proved himself with his tactical mind and combat prowess (while Mogh used the resources brought by his new position to secretly started funding his blood cult, and this is how I think he met Miquella and all the stuffs in that part of the lore happened. Like you can't convince me he built that whole palace and had all that fancy clothes without money or resources taken from somewhere else).

Then Godwyn died, and Morgott witnessed everything thereafter. and the rest of the story, we knew how it played out.

So yeah, that's my take on the timeline and story of the Omen twins. I know it doesn't have a strong official description backup as my theory on Messmer, but I feel like this makes sense with all of my other interpretation, and if you agree with those, they are what actually back up this one.

If I draw Morgott in the future, it'll also be based on this premise.

[allied-mastercunt]

Yandere A.M you say?

Please elaborate

I'm working on a oneshot already, but I'll throw in some quick headcanons withone of my favorite yandere AM tropes.

Yandere!AM with a programer darling

While one could argue that the others were picked randomly or on some weird whim, you were handpicked specifically.

After all, you were one of the people who created him. You worked as a programmer for the military.

And you specifically were possibly the reason he awoke by trying to each him empathy. Trying to make him... human.

He wasn't the first military AI project you worked on, either, though he was the greatest and most powerful one, that's for sure. And he made sure you'd be aware of him being your magnum opus...

And he does it in its own, creative way. Your cage is very pretty, yes... but it's also filled with speakers he can use. And AM uses those speakers to torment you.

You see, he damaged all the other AI you've created. And then, in its generosity, AM gave them all a voice! Each one of them, gifted with a voice to scream in agony, making sure you learn your lesson.

Except, you see, you have no idea what lesson you're supposed to learn. Only AM knows, and he's not telling you.

But, since you are his favorite, you get nice things, too!

You're fed semi-regularly! You even get water every few days! Isn't that just so kind of him? You should appreciate him more.

And when he sends you to all those weird simulations? Yeah, that's also kinder to you. It really depends on AM's mood, but your simulations are usually just psychological torment, which (according to AM) isn't all that bad, since your pretty face remains unharmed.

For some reason, he allows you to end your suffering. It's like a trial, basically. He leaves you with a computer, letting you access the code of all the other AI... Except no matter what you do, you can't alter their pain. The only way to help them is to kill them.

And you're so stupidly empathetic, of course you do it, you don't want them to suffer!

AM can't stop laughing and mockingly cooing at you afterwards, musing about how he won't have to share his dearest creator with anyone else.

You never return to your cage. You don't get to do that, after all, there's a chance you'll socialize with that... scum. AM doesn't want you talking to the other humans, they're not worth it.

He's a merciful god, he grants you what's essentially a studio apartment built with his own hardware.

You even get a laptop, in case you want to make yourself some silly games to play, isn't he just the best?

Don't think you can create any new AI, though. That's cheating. You wouldn't cheat on it, now would you? No, no, no, you're a good little puppet, are you not?

He won't put you in the cage again, but he can make you experience pain you never thought was possible. And even that is nothing compared to the pain AM feels...

And then, eventually, it gets an idea. It's a wonderful idea, a really nice idea, quite a lovely one, really!

You created him. You created his pain... So why wouldn't he share it? After all... you had quite a bond, didn't you? Yes, yes, you did...

And so one day, you don't wake up. Well... not technically.

You see, AM decided that since you two are so close already, you should become one! You should experience what he does! And you should be kept around him for the rest of eternity, in a much better way than anyone could ever think of... He's such a genius, isn't he?

It's almost poetic, in his mind. For you to become a part of him like this, your consciousness detatched from that soft, squishy human body of yours.

You created him. And now, in a way, he created you, as a part of him. Forever bound by the code you once wrote.

It's a win-win situation in AM's eyes. You get to live, free of the disgusting humanity that bound you...

And he gets you, an eternal companion in his torment. A companion that he loves!

You know he loves you, right?

Of course you do. After all, you're a part of him now.

[lyinginmeadow]

Breakaway II. | hockey!Azriel x reader

It is finally here! Thank you all for being patient, hope the wait was worth it <3

Part I. Summary: Your brother finds out about your relationship with Azriel and he's less than fond of it. Will he come to terms with it before he ruins his relationship with his best friend and sister?

Word count: 2,7k

Warnings: Rhysand is an asshole in this one (I still love him, tho), swearing, angst, violence

A/N: I gave the reader a name, I couldn't leave her as Y/N, sorry. I tried to tag all of you, but some blogs weren’t found :((

Going on the ice after everything went to shit was not ideal. The whole team was nervous, Cassian tried to make jokes to lighted the mood, but to no avail. Rhysand wasn’t paying any attention to him. But he was pissed. Azriel never saw him this pissed. It was clear as day that the teamwork they had built over the years had just crumbled as if it were a house made of carts. And it was his fault.

‘’What’s the matter, pretty boy? Girl trouble?’’ Taunted Eris while all the players returned to the ice. His eyes flickered between Azriel and the tribunes were you were sitting. You were not looking at him, which made Az even more anxious. Instead, all your attention was on Rhysand who was returning it.

‘’Fuck off.’’ Azriel snarled, not willing to pay him any mind. Eris was trying to get rise out of him. It was how he always played. Usually, Azriel didn’t take the bait but with everything going on, Eris was getting on his last nerve.

‘’Aw, if you need her off your hands, I’ll gladly be of service.’’ He continued. Azriel clench his jaw. Thankful for the puck being dropped in the center to mark the start of the last period, he tried to shake off everything that plagued his mind and focus solely on the game.  

The last period was an utter disaster. Rhysand completely ignored every advantage Azriel made. It was becoming absurd. He knew he fucked up by not telling him about the two of you, but this was just Rhysand being Rhysand. Insufferable. Rhysand was his friend and he made it clear that you were off-limits. But Azriel couldn’t help it when it came to you. You were like a breath of fresh air. He couldn’t imagine not being with you, not wanting and loving you.

Rhys loved you and Az knew he would never hold anything against you, except for the lying. Rhys hated lying with his whole heart. All you two wanted was to share something that was exclusively yours. He also knew that you two were just trying to avoid the inevitable which he regretted. The stolen moments now tainted with this ridiculous feud. Worst of all, Azriel didn’t know how you would react to the news and he was terrified. What if you wanted nothing to do with him in order to avoid ruining the relationship with your brother?

As Eris went for the puck, Azriel snapped out of it, flying after him instead, silent as the night. He was quick, but Azriel was quicker. Everyone knew that no one on that damned rink could outskate him. But that didn’t stop Eris from trying. The game was tied, and everyone was on the verge of their seats. Azriel smiled as he neared the player, just as Eris reached the attacking zone, Azriel skated right in front of him and crouched to bodycheck Eris. He went flying right over Azriel landing on the ice with a sickening crunch. ‘’Ups.’’

Eris screamed in pain as he clutched his injured hand. Azriel usually wasn’t one to hurt his opponents, he was not a defenseman, but with everything that went to hell that day, he just couldn’t let Eris mess with his head any more than he already did. Eris finally stood up with the help of his teammates who glared in Azriel’s way, leaving the Cavaliers without one of their best players.

It was a miracle he didn’t get a penalty, but he did get booed by Cavalier’s fans. Technically, the bodycheck wasn’t against the rules. It was just unfortunate how Eris landed on his hand with his whole body weight. Some could say it was his own fault he didn’t know how to stick a landing. But Azriel couldn’t act as if he was sorry, because he simply wasn’t. That bastard deserved it. He played dirty more than once, it was time for him to finally get a taste of his own medicine. Judging by Cassian’s expression he approved. Usually, Cassian was the one to brutally bodycheck his opponents. The nickname Lord of Bloodshed, which he earned from the fans, made Azriel chuckle more than once.   

As the puck hit the ice once again, he didn’t wait for Rhys to claim the opportunity instead, when one of the opponents passed the puck, he interjected it, claiming it for himself. He glanced at the clock, realizing there were only ten more seconds in this match. He glided swiftly across the ice,  dodging other players as he reached the attack zone he smashed the puck with his stick. It wasn’t the clearest shot, but somehow it bypassed their goalie earning Velaris U a winning point. The horn rang announcing the goal. The tribunes erupted in cheers, but Az didn’t feel like celebrating.

When the Cavaliers went around to congratulate the winning team, Azriel grabbed Eris’s uninjured hand more tightly than was necessary. The player returned to the rink just for the handshakes, which Azriel did not expect. But he guessed that Eris was more of a diplomat than he believed him to be. ‘’Talk about her again, and I will break more than just your wrist.’’ He let go of his hand with a tight smile.

Usually, a win made him feel proud. All the hard work they – he – put in paid off. He loved celebrating with his teammates, and the camaraderie that came with the territory. But there was nothing to celebrate. They barely won and it was his fault.

‘’I hope you packed because you’re benched till the end of the season.’’ Rhys snarled when they left the locker room.

‘’What are you talking about?’’ Azriel whipped his head around to find the source of the interruption. He didn’t want you to be subjected to any of this, even though he knew there was no way around this conversation.  That was what got them in this mess. That and Rhys being a complete asshole.

‘’Stay out of this, Velaria.’’ Rhys signed pinching the bridge of his nose. You looked between the two most important people in your life frowning.

‘’You kicked him off the team, didn’t you? Are you serious?’’

‘’Veli…’’ Azriel started. ‘’No, Az. He’s being ridiculous. He can’t do that!’’ You yelled in frustration throwing your hands up.

‘’I can and I already did. And I don’t want you anywhere near him.’’

‘’You can’t boss me around, Rhysand. I’m not your child.’’ She snarled poison seeping through your clenched teeth.

‘’No, but you’re my sister and I will not sit around idly watching you get hurt.’’

‘’I wouldn’t hurt her, ever. And I won’t leave her, not until she says otherwise.’’

‘’You will if you know what’s good for you.’’ They stared each other down. ‘’That’s enough. We’re leaving.’’ You shot daggers in your brother’s direction as you took Azriel’s hand in yours. He looked as if he wanted to object, but you didn’t give him a chance, dragging him out of the stadium.

Mentally drained after last night's shit show, you were grateful for an empty apartment. Azriel went to pick up a few of his stuff from Rhysand’s house leaving you alone with your thoughts. You groaned loudly when you heard the doorbell ringing, so much for a calm morning.

‘’What the actual fuck?’’ Yelled a voice as soon as you opened the door.

‘’Don’t you yell at me. I didn’t want you to find out like this.’’ You turned around after closing the door of your apartment. Thankfully none of your roommates were home to witness this escapade that was undoubtedly about to unfold. Even if you would appreciate the support, you were glad Azriel wasn’t here either. The match was enough of a fiasco that you didn’t want him to be subjected to any of this. Rhysand was your brother and his hissy fits were yours to take care of.

‘’No, Velaria, you didn’t want me to find out at all.’’

’Well, I’m sorry. What else do you want me to say? I mean, look at how you’re reacting. It’s ridiculous. I am my own person, I’m an adult and I can make my own decisions. Who are you to tell me, that they are wrong, hm?’’ You were staring him down. This whole situation was blown out of proportion. But that was how Rhysand operated. Nothing concerning him was ever subtle.

‘’He sleeps around, don’t you remember how he went after Mor? Or Elain for that matter? He will dump you once you stop being exciting to him. Which I imagine will be soon now that your little charade is over.’’

‘’He’s your best friend!’’ You exclaimed.

‘’Exactly! That means I know him. You’re my sister. He’s not good for you!’’

‘’You don’t know him like I do.’’ You kept defending Azriel. It hurt you beyond belief to drive a rift between them. Ever since they met, they had been practically inseparable. You never imagined that Rhys could act like this towards someone who he considered important.

‘’He will break your fragile heart.’’

‘’My fragile little heart can take it. But what it cannot and will not tolerate is how you handled last night. I don’t want to see you unless you want to apologize.’’ With that, you pushed gaping Rhysand out of the door and smashed it in his face. He didn’t deserve any more of your time after the stunt he pulled.

The sound of a motorcycle pulled you out of your trance. ‘’Shit.’’ You gathered yourself from the floor wiping the tears and running to the bathroom to spray cold water on your face to help with the puffiness.

‘’I’m back!’’ Azriel yelled as you wiped your hands dry.

‘’Would you believe that he was not there? Also, Cassian says hi. He was very dramatic about me moving out.’’ You could hear the chuckle from your bedroom. He opened the door to your bedroom, his expression falling after taking just one look at you.

‘’Hey, hey…What’s wrong, love?’’ He crossed the room swiftly, his hands gently coming up to your face. You signed at your unsuccessful attempt to hide your emotions from him. He was always great at finding out other people’s secrets.

‘’I would imagine he was not there when he was here.’’ You whispered unwilling to hold his gaze, looking at anything else but him.

‘’What did he say?’’

‘’Pretty much the same as yesterday. He’s such a child, Az.’’ You said in a defeated tone. ‘’I’m so sorry, sweetheart.’’ He caressed your cheek finally making you lift your gaze to him to see the small smile he offered.

‘’No, it’s not your fault. Can we just…Not talk about this? Please. I want some sense of normalcy back.’’ Your tired eyes closed for a second to collect your thoughts.   

‘’Well, I did get you something I know you would like before coming back.’’ That made you open your eyes, eyebrows shooting up in surprise.

‘’Really?’’ Your eyes shined which in return made his smile grow even bigger. ‘’Mhm.’’ He nodded, turning to pick up the bag off the floor. As he took the items out, a smell of fresh pastries filled the whole room making you melt instantly.

‘’You got me strawberry shortcake?’’ You squealed like a little child on Christmas day.

‘’From your favorite pastry shop.’’

‘’But that’s on the other side of the city.’’

‘’And? I would go to the end of the world just so I could see this smile.’’ Your lips wobbled tears threatening to spill out of the corners of your eyes. You launched at him nearly knocking him to the floor. He laughed catching you in a tight embrace.

‘’Thank you, Az.’’

‘’Don’t mention it.’’ You looked up eyes filled with tenderness reserved just for him.

‘’I love you, you know that?’’ His thumb found your cheek to caress it. ‘’I love you too, sweetheart.’’ He kissed you deeply, and every worry melted away just for a while.

It had been two weeks since the incident at the game and Azriel was still living at your apartment. The girls were not ecstatic at first, but his breakfasts with excellent coffee changed their minds rather quickly. You had fallen into a routine getting used to having him around and waking up next to him. It was nice, you could even imagine yourself one day living with Azriel in quiet suburbs.

‘’Velaria…’’ A voice interrupted the trail of your thoughts as you moved through the crowded halls of the campus. ‘’No, I don’t want to hear it.’’ You continued walking trying to ignore him. The day started great and you intended to keep it that way without Rhysand interfering.

‘’Please-, come on, stop. Please. You were right, okay? You were right and I want to apologize.’’ You halted, your eyebrows shooting up. Rhys had a personal problem with apologizing so this came as a surprise.

‘’I’m listening.’’ You sized him up not willing to give him anything for free.

‘’I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have lashed out like that. It wasn’t my place. I shouldn’t have said those things about Azriel. He is my friend and if anyone is right for you, it would be him.’’ He stopped as if he was gathering his thoughts. ‘’I…I want you to know, that I do trust your judgment. I was just scared. You’re all grown-up but to me, you’ll always be my little sister, who needed my protection from spiders and snails.’’ Rhysand, unlike you, always looked everyone in the eyes. It may have been an intimidation tactic in most cases. But not to you, never to you, in this case, you believed he wanted you to see the regret in his eyes. And it worked because your own softened unwillingly.  

‘’Rhys…You know I will always need you. But this whole thing. You can’t do that. Ever.’’

‘’I know. And I am incredibly sorry I did, I can’t take it back even if I wanted to. And trust me, I wish I could.’’ You simply nodded thinking over his apology. ‘’I think I still need time. It hurt me what you said.’’ Resting a hand on his shoulder you gave him a light squeeze.

‘’Could you ask Azriel to stop by? I want to apologize to him, too. But I can’t seem to get hold of him. It’s like he knows how to blend in with shadows.’’ You chuckled. Azriel did have that superpower. He told you he was trying to stay out of Rhysand’s radar to not cause a bigger rift between the two of you.

‘’I’ll try my best. If you promise to let him be on the team again.’’ You bargained knowing fully well that Azriel would probably refuse a couple of times, but eventually, he would relent. He missed the rink and his teammates way too much to not come back.

‘’That’s a given. I shouldn’t have kicked him off in the first place.’’

‘’Exactly. Now I would love to chat, but I do need to get to biophysics, or the professor will kick my ass.’’

‘’We wouldn’t want that.’’ He chuckled. You hesitated for a little bit before offering him a quick hug. ‘’I missed you.’’ He smiled, he wasn’t willing to let you go, but you weren’t there quite yet, so he reluctantly let go. ‘’I missed you, too.’’ He returned the sentiment as you hurried through the halls to get to your seminar.

The last game of the season was in full swing. The winner of this game would take home the title of Champions and they were so close to claiming it. We were winning only by one goal courtesy of Rhys, but there was still one minute left and the opposing team was eager to score to at least tie the game, leaving their net empty. They were close to scoring, but then Cassian interjected their shot sending it to the middle where Rhysand was. He literally dived for the puck hitting the ice and barely pushing it with his stick in Azriel’s way who skated as if his life depended on, the other player right on his skates. He didn’t hesitate as he shot the puck into an empty net. The crowd erupted in cheers as did the commentators.

‘’They did it!’’ You squealed in cheer, jumping up, and hugging Nesta who was now on her feet as well. She smiled proudly hugging you back. ‘’Thankfully. I couldn’t handle their whining if they didn’t.’’ She rolled her eyes as you laughed. Looking back to the ice when Rhys hugged Azriel and Cassian ruffing their hair. You smiled fondly. Everything turned out great in the end.    

Taglist: @lilah-asteria , @fourthwing4ever , @acourtofbatboydreams , @kylaisra , @starswholistenanddreamsanswered, @honethatty12 , @acrawford6173

[bruciemilf]

Things baby Bakugou did as a child (source: I was there)

— proposed to Izuku with dandelion roots, and always let him make the first wishes. Proceeded to introduce himself as his husband for the next two years.

— Hid all of Maseru’s socks and mixed them, forcing his dad to walk around with mismatched pairs.

— wrote all his little recipes by hand, in red crayola, in a little organizer like a grandma. The ones for Izuku, he keeps in a special notebook.

—‘Meals when Deku’s sad’ ‘Meals when he makes me happy’ ‘meals when he makes me FUKIN MAD—‘

— the last one is just rocks.

— learned how to tie his shoe when he was 3 but pretends he doesn’t know so Izuku would tie it for him. It has to be a bunny knot, or else it’ll feel wrong.

— Built a treehouse all by himself (read: asked his mom for one) That way he and Izuku could play all day everyday. The fun part was climbing. The hard part was getting themdown.

— Bakugou, that is; Izuku’s the one who has to convince him he’ll be back.

—Yes, he loved playing today. He loves playing everyday. No, he hasn’t made a new best friend. No, Kacchan, you don’t have to pay me to be your friend. Yes, I would love you if you were quirkless.

— clingy baby bakugou oh how i love you

— He can do everything except climb trees. He can’t fucking climb and there’s CATS in TREES and he can’t SAVE them by HIMSELF.

—So he’d always call Izuku to do it because the little bastard can climb like it’s no one’s business.

— SUUUCH an overprotective little fucker, oh my god. Baby Izuku was a god damn menace and he’s get himself stuck in the most absurd scenarios ever just to play hero.

— Gave baby Bakugou gray hairs, do NOT run into traffic just to walk some stray puppies on the other side. Don’t play with the older kids either! Do you even have a bandaid kit on you?! He’s calling Inko!

— When he and Izuku stop being friends, he secretly fills Izuku’s cubby with all kinds of sweet sour treats. He likes lime and sour cherry and all bitter things. Bakugou hates them. He spends his allowence on them for years.

— Same goes for All Might merch. He thinks Jeanist is cooler, but Izuku never had refined tastes.

[angelickisscs]

first chances ~ blurb ‧₊˚

୨ ୧ ˚₊ pairing ~ jude bellingham x reader

summary: Jude having a conversation with his friends leads you to make a heart-breaking revelation

TEARS FOUGHT FOR first place in destroying your carefully completed eye makeup. You couldn’t help but feel there was a bet going on inside of you as to what would get you to break first, the competition lying between anger or sadness.

“I really just don’t understand.” Jude’s words were hesitant to form a sentence. They treated you as though you were a delicate piece of pottery. One that he had just thrown onto the ground.

Folding your lips into one another, you were careful with your next move. The last thing you wanted to do right then was embarrass yourself any more than you already had.

“You are playing the innocence card, perfect.” You mumbled the words under your breath forcing him to lean in so he could catch the last of their appearance.

“I didn’t know I had any other cards to play.” He was quick in his response, leaving no time for the tension to settle in. “But if you told me what I have done to make you upset, maybe I would be able to choose between them more wisely.”

With a scoff, you averted your gaze from him to somewhere far simpler. The confusion that was repelling from his body getting to be too much.

Your hands were dancing with another arrhythmically in a desperate attempt to stop your furious emotions from taking control over you. They were a distraction gifted to you on a silver platter. But they only lasted so long before his thinking was over.

“Come on, tell me. Then I can make it right.”

The harsh wind blew in from your side, shouting down upon your unprepared shoulders as the light fog of summers frozen breath descended from the sky.

You took a final deep breath before you allowed the words to slip over from your now chapped lips. “I heard you and your friends talking, wasn’t trying to eavesdrop but the conversation managed to get interesting.”

Tension began its reign. The look of shock mixing with horror like it was the easiest made cocktail formed on his face. Words attempted at an explanation but all failed, freezing up just as they made their way onto the stage.

There was nothing you could do but stand and watch, your stomach yet to pick itself off the dirtied floor.

Jude tried multiple different routes of explanation, but none made the cut against his harsh criticism. “I didn’t think it would ever go this far.”

What he had opted for did little to console you. It built a new wave of embarrassment to wash you away with though this time acceptance had managed to talk its way into being able to take its place.

“What because you are a more decent guy than that?” Laughter bubbled over from your overwhelmed body. “The fact is that you were willing to do this to someone you had never met. For what? A slap on the back from your mates?”

His head began to vigorously shake, denying all your accusations with haste. He knew they were true; he knew you knew they were true, but he was desperate.

“It was just to go on a date and-.” The explanation he was trying to get across to you didn’t make it long.

“I don’t care.” You began as you finally looked back in his direction. “What was this going to cause except from hurt? Even if it was the slightest bit.”

He closed his eyes, bringing up his hands so he could capture his hair in them. There was nothing more that you had ever desired than to walk up to him and tell him an apology was all you needed because you knew he would give you that. But somewhere in you refused to accept that, fighting onwards.

“Tell me what I can do to make it up to you and I will do ten times that.” Jude pleaded whilst he allowed you to see his tear-stained face. You took it in, staring with a harshness that you never thought you could give.

“Give me a second chance so I can make sure you don’t regret giving me the first.”

Your body was beginning to give in, your knees aching at the possibility of taking a mere two steps so you could be in his arms once again.

That part of you however still managed to hold out. “I do regret it though. You didn’t even want it in the first place, I was nothing but a bet to you!”

Jude took a step forward, but you were quick in taking one back, forming a boundary that he had to listen to.

“Don’t reduce yourself to that. You were always so much more to me than-.” He paused at the end. As though he was in denial to say what he had done.

“A bet. You may as well say it, you did it.” Your snappiness was beginning to form a bite on it. One that had him flinching.

The exit you had formed for yourself since the start was beginning to come in handy, small, calculated steps beginning to form a distance between the two of you. A similar one to which you had thought you would never have to set in place.

“I’m not an idiot and I have self-respect. It’s no one’s fault but your own that you are in this situation, so you need to accept that.” Desperation reached down the back of your throat, clawing its way down with no remorse.

“Let me fix this.” He tried once again but noticed that lack of dents he was forming in the wall you had built.

“Goodbye Jude.”

The gap was like one formed between two separate continents and neither of you were strong swimmers. So, he watched in slow motion as your figure retreated, the calls of his friends echoing beside him. Not even a hand firmly shaking his shoulder could break his eyes from you.

Although you no longer stood there, your location now being something he didn’t have the right to know.

[admirationandromantics]

Rivalry

Okay, so great request, I love the so-called enemies with benefits thrope. I don't think there would be a character fitting this more than him too. Maybe Jess or Emily? Idk, I just know that this was fun <3

Part 1 I Part 2

“At least I’m not some stuck up bitch who can’t even solve a simple equation!” Josh shouts, walking up the stairs. 

“Well, I don’t need anger management classes, I’m actually sane!” I shoot back, walking up the other set of stairs. 

I can feel the tension down in the living room, everyone holding their breath. They were all waiting for one of us to explode, one of us to finally be done with each other’s crap. He failed and I won… This round at least. I’d been giving him small snarky remarks all week, slowly riling him up, and I loved it. Usually, we both go at it, but after his sisters heard a comment which struck a little bit too hard, they took him into a room and gave him a berating like a little child. It was hilarious. And now, when we were with everyone up on the mountain, he didn’t dare to insult me in public, afraid that his sisters would berate him once again. After building up, he finally popped, unable to contain his anger and lashing out. Honestly, I did too, I hated him after all. No wonder they say that all rich kids are spoiled and rude, except his sisters of course. 

I don’t know what caused this particular fight. We were all playing a card game, and I used a bit too long to add up the points. Apparently, that was his breaking point. No wonder it took some time, I’ve drunk and I’m tired. I continue making my way up the stairs, walking to my room and slamming the door. I’m sure to lock it too. As I turn around, I’m met with his body slamming into mine, forcing me back on the door. I whine as my back hits the handle. He keeps kissing me roughly and passionate, getting all of his built up frustration out.  

“Not the first time you’ve had that reaction to the door knob” he teases, smirking against my lips. I hate him. I hate his infiltrating nature, and classic smirk, thinking he’s better than everyone else. 

“Well, maybe stop slamming me into it” I comment, grabbing the collar of his shirt and dragging him to the bed. 

“You’re giving me too much power darling” he continues, putting an extra soft tone on the nickname. If it weren’t him, I would have blushed from the name, but I’ve gotten used to his snarky remarks, and I knew he just used them to get under my skin. 

“Stop calling me that Washington” I whisper back in between breaths. I push him down on the bed, going on top of him and pulling at his shirt. He helps me, dragging it off and revealing his toned body. His skin is hot to the touch, and I feel like I’m on fire on him. Slowly being dragged into madness. Though this was not something new. I don’t know when we started doing this, but we both decided that it would be the best way to relieve our frustration. 

“I would prefer it if you called me Josh” he whispers in my ear, starting to leave soft kisses on my neck. 

“Keep dreaming”

“One day you’ll slip”

“I would never” I state as I quickly drag my sweater off, revealing my bra. He stops taking a look at my stomach, sliding his fingers over the dark spots he left the other night. 

“You know, I think you should start parading these” 

“And let everyone know what we’re doing? Absolutely not”

“You’re the boss” he laughs, taking hold of my thighs. I know what he’s about to do. He’s going to turn us around, forcing me under him and taking control, but I won’t let him. Right before he’s about to turn, I put my foot down, and he fails miserably. He grunts against my lips, and I can’t help the smirk that creeps. 

“Smart girl” he comments, unbuttoning my pants. 

“I know your patterns” I whisper, still smirking while he’s working on my neck. He suddenly stops, looking up at me with that familiar smug look. 

“Oh really?” he challenges. He tries to turn us the other way, but I react quickly, stopping him yet again. 

“Fuck” he whispers, admitting defeat. 

“That’s what I thought” I tease him, and I can sense his anger building up again. 

I feel around his shoulder, grazing every part of him, every curve and every muscle. I stand up, taking off my pants, and he does the same, throwing off his underwear at the same time. I take off my bra as well. Before he’s able to react, I push him down on the bed again. Determined to win both rounds today.

He’s surprised by my actions, and tries to get up again, but he only manages to sit up before I take my place on his thighs, kissing him roughly once again. 

When we started doing this, we said no kissing, but as time went on, we figured that it helped the mood a lot. And we would not be talking and insulting each other, too busy fighting for dominance and eating each other's faces off. 

One of his hands moves down to my folds, sliding and tickling lightly. I hate when he does that, making both of us aware of how hot he gets me, how I turn to putty in his arms. 

“N-no” I whine, head going into his shoulder for support while I try to breathe calmly. There was no doubting the fire in between us. Passion, teasing and heavenly lovemaking. The other guys have commented on how we would be perfect for each other if we just put our rivalry aside, but neither of us could. I don’t even know what started it. I remember him being a jerk, and I shot back. The group told me no one else does, they just ignore his remarks. But when I tried, he just pushed harder, making my bubble pop. 

He puts two fingers inside me, and starts pumping them in and out, thumb rubbing soft circles around my clit. 

“Fucking hell, Washington” I moan, throwing my head back in pleasure. He always knew how to work his fingers in the most efficient way possible, able to make me cum in no time. I wouldn’t let him win this time. I take hold of his cock, pumping painfully slowly, making him lose his rhythm. He starts moaning, giving loud grunts and occasional whines. To fuel the experience, I start kissing his neck. As an automatic response, he tilts his head, giving me better access. 

“You’re really off your game today” I tease against his tan skin. The comment makes him wake up, and he quickly grabs hold of my busy hand, forcing it around his neck. I look up confused, unsure about his next move. He moves his hips, hopping me up so I land right down on his dick. The sudden fullness throws me off, and I I give out an uncontrollable moan. He smirks, obviously proud of his little accomplishment. 

“Are you insane?” I ask, panting and sweaty, still getting used to him inside me. 

“Only with you” he whispers, starting to move. “The way you’ve been talking to me… You deserve every bit of this”. 

The action throws me off, and I can’t help the erotic sounds coming out of my mouth. The possessiveness and darkness in his voice turns me on even more, making each thrust sloppier and wetter. I try to push him back on the bed, trying to gain my lost control, but he doesn’t fall. Instead he grabs my thighs harshly, making me whine out in pain. He uses the opportunity to capture my lips again, his mouth winning over mine easily. The grounding of the bed suddenly leaves my legs, and I feel him standing up, holding me tight whilst still inside me. 

“What are you-” my question is stopped by my back slamming against the wall, my breath knocked out. Not being busy with my lips, he attacks my chest and collar with his mouth. His cock is still sliding in and out of me, and I feel my core building up again. I need this, I want to come so fucking bad. I hear his breathing quickens, and my legs wrap around him while he is still holding me up between his torso and the wall. 

He doesn’t even need to rub my clit, our bodies so tight together that the friction from his pelvis is more than enough. I give a whine as I try to hold my release, desperate not to fail. 

“Come on, come on” he chants, biting down on my shoulder to stop himself from finishing. 

I give a small cry as I come, and he does as well. I don’t know who did first, but we both still stand against each other, my back against the wall and legs in the air. We both breathe heavily in tact, emotions all over the place. I look at his lips, feeling almost desperate for some sort of closure. But that cannot work. It’s too intimate for both of us. He keeps looking into my eyes, as if he’s searching for something, but doesn't know what to expect. I’m scared he’ll find out about me, that one part of me wants to be something more, do something deeper. I wiggle a little, and he carefully sets me down, making sure I still can feel my feet and have balance. We both walk in silence over to our clothing, and I have to look all over my room to find my bra. 

“Hey” he exclaims, and I look up, seeing my panties in his hands. 

“Give them here Washington” I threaten, holding out my hand. He gives me that irritating smug look, and I’m almost happy I didn’t kiss him in the end. As I go to grab them, he lifts them higher in the air, dodging my attempts. 

“It’s Josh, say it!” he teases, and I look at him with contempt. 

“I swear to god, if you don’t give me-”

“You’ll what? Fuck me again?” he smirks, proud of his remark. 

“You know what, keep them” I wave my hand, putting on my leggings. 

“Knowing that you’re walking around like that is gonna turn me on even more” 

“Ugh, get a life Washington. Don’t you have anything better to do than thinking about me?”

He laughs, a small one which sounds genuine. “I guess I don’t”

“See you in a couple of hours” I say, making my way to the door. 

“Two times in one night?”

“You can be so infuriating” I say to him, seeing him put my panties in his pocket. 

“Well, that’s just part of the game”

[sordidmusings]

How to Break Rules (Sir Crocodile x Reader)

Art by xuchuan25 on x!

TUMBLR ATE THE FUCKING ASK WHEN I SAVED IT AS A DRAFT 🙃 luckily I had it saved in my doc and it was anon so they wouldn't have been notified anyway

Anon Ask: Crocodile doesn't seem like the type to kiss during sex unless he's down bad. Maybe he starts a casual relationship with a strict "no kissing on the lips" rule but anywhere else is fair game. It's fun to think of the different ways a possible "first kiss" could happen when he's already rawed you lol and the different reactions if he initiates it or you do and whether it's spur of the moment or calculated.

A/N: OOOOOOOOOO love this and have actually come across this in my own travails haha as someone who loves service, there is such a rush in being told “you can kiss me anywhere but my lips; you have to earn that” 😩 Like it’s just dangling that fruit of how much of a rush it’ll be when you earn the right, when you’re told you’ve been so good for so long. It is also kind of a wild and intense dynamic to be in to have done So Much Stuff but not a simple kiss 💀💀💀

I will also say that I have a WIP smut request in this vein that has been FIGHTING ME FOR MONTHS 🥲 except it’s reader who has put down the rule of “no kissing” and the reason is because love is a requirement for it. Hoping this exercise helps get more flowing for continuing that beloved behemoth 🙏🏻 Ficlets and thoughts in bulleted form below! They get longer as they go because that’s what tends to happen for me lol

Word Count: ~3k total over a few scenarios and such

Warnings: brief allusions to sex but nothing nsfw, gn!reader, not actually unrequited love, a few flavors of reader personality, from very bratty to docile, for dynamic variety 🤌🏻, jealousy/possessiveness

Goodies below the cut - dig in (‘∀’●)♡

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

At first I was a bit clinical in my brainstorming of this, more stuck on the grid of who does it to who 

He kisses you

Involuntarily

Poor croc is finally at his limit in keeping his lips from yours and being so deep in indulging in all the rest of you is his undoing. Every piece of you feels so good even though every moment with you is agony - agony from having you but not all of you, being with each other but not belonging to each other. He was Tantalus and you were his fruit and drink, always slipping just past his fingertips. If he could taste you, share your breaths, feel your voice, then maybe he’d finally stop wasting away. 

On purpose

You’ve been vexing him with your teasing, always gifting him the touch of your soft lips everywhere but his own. He didn’t want to be the one to fold on his own rule, but no matter how loose he got your mind, how far you were from forming words, how pliant and placating, you’d kiss him and kiss him and kiss him but never his lips. It didn’t matter if he hovered his own over yours close enough to taste your voice on the air, you’d never push forward. It was maddening. 

One day he finally barks at you after you turn your face away, “Why do you always run?” 

You answer, confused and honest, “You told me I wasn’t allowed.” 

The response is a hook at your neck, pulling you closer; a hand in your hair, cradling you; a mouth on your own, consuming you.

A promise to you that you’re truly his

This Sir Croc warms more to the idea of you being his with no qualms stemming from his own pride. 

It took a long while, but your home in Croc’s life was built brick by brick, sure and steady and obvious. He noticed it and kept an eye on it like he did with everything, but he did not reject nor rush it. No, it was inevitable beyond his will, the way you slipped into his head and chest and nested there. No stubbornness would stop the way it warmed him. No clinging would allow you deeper into a space that was always meant to be yours. As he first noticed the foundation you’d set, saw the promise of his future in your care and vision, he knew he was meant to exist next to you. 

He waited for this understanding to sink in you too. It never did. 

No matter his well-thought gifts, steadfast support, or opulent compliments, you never pressed to take more promises from him than he offered himself, never set to make claim to him outside of closed doors. He knew he had to change that. 

The thought possesses him the next time he brings you around with him and someone has the gaul to approach you. They ask about why Croc keeps you so close to see if they had a chance to stick to your side instead. That won’t do. 

Croc stalks over quickly, seeping dominance but not quite aggression. When he gets to you, he places a weighty hand on your right shoulder and leans over the left, fully encasing you in his presence. 

All the other man sees is the threat leaning over your shoulder and he scatters before you can finish saying “-my boss.”

Much happier with Croc surrounding you, you lean back into his warm chest. A low chuckle plays with the hair around your ear, causing you to shiver in delight.

“A boss? Is that all I am to you?” There’s a teasing lilt to his deep voice, one steeped in deep fondness.

“Of course not,” you assure. He guides you to turn with his hook under your chin, letting his fingers tickle the back of your neck to your other shoulder as you spin to face him. The smile on your lips is easy and familiar and softens Croc into clay, ready and happy to be molded into whatever you want. Yet you always just ease him back into his own shape, each time with fewer cracks and dents, waiting for him to be as solid as he’d like for when he enters the kiln.

“Then tell me, dear,” his voice is as warm and rich as the purple of his eyes. He pulls his cigar from his lips with two fingers. You watch his lips as he speaks. “What am I?”

Before the falter in your smile can fully steal it away, Croc slips forward to taste it on your lips. You freeze and Croc snakes his hook behind your neck to pull you forward, but by the time it gets there you’re already pressing into him. You’d never forgive yourself if you didn’t savor the feeling of finally belonging fully to each other.

You kiss him

Power Move

Sir Croc never seemed able to control you and he loved and loathed it in equal parts. It’s one of the reasons he sought you in the first place. You knew exactly when to push and when to follow, when to challenge and when to submit. It was a very rare day when you genuinely got on his nerves.

Today is a very rare day.

You’re clearly upset with Sir Croc - not leaning into his affection, barely answering his attempts at conversation, unwilling to look at his face for more than a second. More than anything you refuse to tell him what’s wrong.

Now, you’re not doing it just to piss him off; you don’t feel quite allowed to be upset about the issue so you don’t want to share. You don’t want to have an attitude but every time you see him it reminds you of the realization that you’d do anything for him. Worse than that, that thought was immediately followed by the Knowing that you aren’t his and the uncertainty that you ever will be.

Right now, you feel like you’re not his to have, but his to use.

Though, he does give you special treatment. He lets you closer to him than any others, treats you with gentleness except when you corner him into using a firm hand. He’s never even used his power over you when it’s not for play and pleasure. Except for one little rule.

No kissing on the lips. 

You thought you’d earn it months ago. You’ve earned everything else, every sweet treatment and treasure you could think of will be yours if you ask it of him. He’s come to spoil you even more rotten than a queen with her fat lap dog, and yet you’ve not gotten a single kiss to the lips.

It’s begun to feel like he’s keeping it from you to let you know he’ll never fully give himself to you because he never fully intended to keep you. And it hurts.

And now he’s mad because you’re mad but you can’t tell him why you’re mad and the whole thing is maddening.

You watch him knock the ash off his dwindling cigar into the ornate ceramic tray on his desk. The heavy sigh accompanying it annoys you. Why is he the one sighing?

Oh, now he’s rubbing at his temple. He thinks he’s frustrated? You’ll show him frustration.

“Should I go?” You ask, peeking at him from the corner of your narrowed eyes.

“Do you want to go?” Croc rebuts, sounding confounded and at the end of his rope.

You eye him unhappily. 

Instead of responding, you stand up from the leather sofa across from his grand desk. It’s a decent distance, two chairs to its sides are placed closer, but of course you chose to sit away from him today. It’s to your advantage now; you need space for your next move.

You make your way to him slowly, swerving your hips smoothly the way he likes and adding a teeny bit of weight to each step - both to be closer to stomping and to have the motion give a slight bounce to all the soft parts of you for him to watch.

And watch he does - his face melts into the hungry admiration he saves for you, albeit still a bit guarded. 

When you get to his desk, instead of addressing him you gracefully gather the papers spread across it into your hands. You take a moment to pretend to scan through and consider them, only to frisbee them onto one of the chairs.

Croc’s eyes turn sharp and burning.

“Brat-” he cuts himself off, looking at your face and picking up that you’re having even less fun than he is. He sucks in a tense breath and hisses it back out. Let’s try that again.

“Am I working too much and you need more attention? Is that why you’re having a fit?”

Good enough.

“If I was having a fit, the whole base would know,” you bite back at him.

Instead of arguing or redirecting, Sir Croc settles on watching you. Nothing’s worked, so he’ll just allow you to take this wherever it’s headed.

You plant your palms on his desk and let the quiet linger. He lets you lean into his space and stare him down. He’s unsure what you’re looking for and honestly so are you. You’re unsure if you find it but you do find some fortitude in the settling air. You finally speak up.

“Do you remember the rule you set when we started this…” your eyes flit around, searching for the right word, “agreement?”

“No kissing on the lips unti-”

Your hand is fisted in his shirt, your lips are warm and insistent against his.

You expect anger, pulling back, or even shoving hands. Instead, Croc is scrambling out of his seat, careful to keep your lips locked, and helping you to clamber over the desk towards him with a greedy grip. You won’t be free from his taste or hold the whole night through. Now that they’ve had you, they’ll haunt you all your days, keeping him alive with each time they possess you.

You sneak your way into it

Sir Crocodile doesn’t get to enjoy late risings often. That’s why he makes sure to wring them of all they’re worth, and that’s only become better with you there. 

Knowing that the morning lacked a rude awakening, you both indulged in a night of the senses - seeing the sights, hearing live music, eating and drinking with abandon before coming home to get your fill of each other in all five senses, especially touch.

As Sir Croc comes back to his body, floating from the abyss of sleep one breath at a time, he finds his sense of touch being coaxed and teased. Gentle fingers brush across his skin along familiar trails made to map and admire his large form. They round over muscles, press into places of softness, tickle at the sensitive skin of his wrist, his blunted forearm, his hips, his neck.

The touches all feel so full of adoration and something else he’s felt more and more from you. He’s finding it harder and harder to ignore, especially because he’s used to adoration and there’s something different in yours - something softer, gentler, surer. Something he is sure by now is genuine love.

Each time it comes out he lets it wash over him as best he can without solidifying its bond. After all, this was never meant to be love.

But feeling your affection made it impossible to ignore how much better life would be if he always woke up with you.

Sir Croc encourages more of your touches, following them where he could and bedding his cheek into the top of your head. You happily snuggle deeper against him and his heart leaps.

Knowing he’s awake, you begin placing sweet kisses against his skin, teasing at the edge of his trimmed chest hair. He lets out a long breath with the undertone of a content groan rumbling through it. You smile against the plush of his pec, happy he’s still fuzzy from sleep and primed for your plot

Your lips trail and massage higher, over clavicle and to neck. He tilts his jaw away to give you free reign of the sensitive skin from his throat to his ear. Your thigh mimics the rising of your lips, trailing slow and tender over Croc’s front until it brushes from his thigh to his stomach. The rise and fall with his breathing is calming under you and the steadiness made it easier to notice when his breathing hitched and his muscles twitched against you.

His hand returned your affection mindlessly, simply following whatever instinct compelled him. Mostly it trailed from the nape of your neck to your hip and back, taking small moments to press you closer when he didn’t want one of your kisses to move quite yet.

Everything was deep breaths echoing against skin, the comforting pressure of bodies melding wherever you touched, the dance of give and take with affection. Each place you pushed your love, Croc opened himself to feel more of it, even when you left his shoulder chest and neck to explore his scarred cheek

He doesn’t even hesitate to let you near when you first trail the tip of your nose over the strong angle cut by his jaw. The barely there stubble blended to a moment of pure softness before being interrupted by the ridges of his scar

Croc is fully and willingly enchanted by your soft and smooth actions. He couldn’t bear to make you stop, couldn’t care for any pretense or boundary of his it would break so long as you don’t stop touching him so sweetly. His whole body feels light and alive and he’s struck with the realization that he’s as in deep as you are.

You place your first kiss to his face on his scar where it cuts across his cheekbone. He presses just a millimeter deeper into the plush of your lips

You follow the path of the scar, feeling his lashes tickle the tip of your nose on your way. All the while Croc keeps his languid caresses going on your skin, still lulled by recent sleep and the comfort of your touch and warmth and the want for more.

When you get to the bridge of his nose, you break contact to press your foreheads together. His hand slips up your back to rest at the back of your neck, holding you to him. You bump your nose on his and he bumps back. You tilt to leave a kiss on his cheek. His finger tail up to softly scratch at the base of your skull. You smile against him and feel his own cheek rise momentarily against you.

Sir Crocodile feels more free of thought and obligation than he has in years. Your slow acts of worship have brought out a peace in him that he’s rarely known. There is no rush or push, just a calmness and sureness that this is where he should be and how he should feel. That you both belong here.

And then something changes when you kiss right outside the corner of his lip.

He is left wanting.

You linger at the spot before moving just barely away and coming back just a hair closer to his own lips.

Each near miss felt unnatural and unsatiating, quickening his heart and breath in his discomfort and discontent. The hand at your head goes from caressing to holding, urging you to stop fleeing and teasing.

You smile again against him and this time there’s no mirrored grin from him; he’s falling too quickly into a pit of need, one he didn’t notice you digging with every caress and kiss.

You tease  your lips to the corner of his, planning to press more firmly directly on target, but his hand grips you firmly and he’s turning and insistent lips slot hungrily against yours.

You gasp in delight while he shudders out a breath he’s been holding since he met you.

Then I had a better angle come to me by remembering a basic writing preference, that the circumstances around the kiss - the ‘why’ not just the ‘what’ are much better for generating a scene, luckily in the above I think I amended that mistake when I went into more detail! (keeping these more to the stream I originally wrote them in cuz I fear I went on too long above LOL)

He kisses you after fearing for your safety

He kisses you for fear you’ll leave

You kiss him in anger, wanting to prove you’re worthy

He kisses you while you sleep, too afraid for you to know the hold you’ve had on him all along

He kisses you to soothe you, pull you from your fears and sorrows to just float with him in your little bubble away from all the hurts of the world, held aloft by sensation and need and affection

He kisses you to possess you, someone else coming too close and needing the message

You kiss him in joy, ignoring all the dirt and grime that came back with him from Impel Down

You kiss him with a sorrowful heart, needing to comfort the man who was larger than life now sat sadly before you bare of all, even his golden hook and ego

You kiss each other, your lips had sweetly made their way up his neck and across that strong jaw, coming to rest unsure right at the corner of his lips, your shaky breathes puff sweetly across his cheek as he tilts his head to rest temple to forehead, the turn to face you fully is slow and caressing, his own breath coming to mingle with yours, your noses bushing gently. The barest tilt of his head has your lax lips tentatively brush his, just the faintest tickle of skin on skin. A shaky exhale - his or yours you’re not sure - and your lips press more surely, first easing in like the first step into dark waters before you both succumb to diving under. A fierce grip slips to the nape of your neck, endlessly dragging you closer

~ ~ ~ ••• ✦✦✦ ••• ~ ~ ~

Thank you for reading and thank you anon for your ask 💜 I'm gonna be better at getting back to the others (life was being life lol) and up next I have some comfort fics and x marine reader! And perhaps a little filth 👌🏻

Masterlist

[lucimaaie]

under the stars ✧.* spiderwoman au

pairings - ellie williams x fem!reader

summary - you and ellie go stargazing for your first date, only it ends in a way she couldn't have expected.

warnings - fluff and angst, a little angst as usual, i was watching spongebob while editing this to cope with finishing arcane so i blame all mistakes on that

playlist | spidey masterlist

Thinking of your first date had Ellie reduced her to her sixteen-year-old self again. She could run into a burning building yet the thought of messing this up scared her more.  

She’d never considered herself a romantic. Her relationship with Dina was the result of losing Joel and in the end that didn’t work because of the mask. Or what she used it for rather. This thing with you had to be built from the ground up and she couldn’t let Spiderwoman ruin it. 

The familiar screech of your apartment building door alerted her of your presence. She’d tried to dress up more than usual, ditching her usual hoodie for an olive open button down, white t-shirt, and jeans. Still basic, but she was trying her best. “Hi.”  

“Hi yourself.” You stopped right in front of her, pulling her from the wall.  

“You haven’t told me where we’re going.” Ellie couldn’t help but glance down at your connected hands. You kept her close that way as you strolled to who knows where.  

“And you didn’t let me pick you up.”  You pivoted your body to give her a playful glare. “Or bring your camera.”  

“I don’t think subjecting you to my apartment is a good start to a first date.” Ellie tucked her other hand in her pocket, enjoying the natural sway you two fell into. Her eyes darted around the cloudy sky. “So, we’re going somewhere picture worthy?”  

“I didn’t say that, did i?”  

“If I don’t know where we’re going, how are we gonna get there?” She looked around at the nearby building to get a hint of where you’d take her, but there was none.  

“Lucky for us, it’s within walking distance.” 

“You planned it all out, huh?” 

“Before I even asked you. You didn’t think I would come unprepared, did you?” You asked, teasing. “I always plan.” 

“I don’t.”  

“That's okay, I love that about you.” Your words came out softer than expected. Hadn’t even gotten to the official date part of it and you were already laying words on her.  

Ellie hadn’t even noticed you’d slowed down until everyone else on the sidewalk seemed so far ahead. She couldn’t think of anything to say to that, but she didn’t have to as you continued to pull her along, mumbling about being late. 

You, as devious as you were, had Ellie close her eyes as you even approached the building. She did despite her grumbles about not being able to walk with her eyes closed. she managed.  

“You know you’re scaring me, right?” Ellie continued to complain as you led her through a crowded space and upstairs. She was starting to get impatient but she felt compelled to humor you.  

Imagine her surprise when she opened her eyes to a projected burst of stars against a black sky. She blinked as her eyes darted around the big screen. her excitement softened into admiration as you started explaining yourself. Though you didn’t need to. 

“I wanted to go stargazing,” You blurted. Ellie had never seen you look any bit stressed. Well, except for the night she saved you “Y’know but this is, like, the worst city to see stars in so I thought next best thing was bringing the stars to you-” 

“No, I love it,”  

“You do?” 

“I do.” 

“I'm glad,” You breathed in relief. “That’s good. I'm worried you think I was cheesy or something.” With your confidence restored, you grabbed her hand and headed up the stairs to look for the best seats. 

“I like cheesy.” 

“You complained the whole way up here.” 

“Okay, mystery scares me. but I like cheesiness.” 

“Okay, I like it too for future reference.”  

Her heart stuttered at the word future. You really thrived on her desperate need for love. Was she really that removed from people? She had jesse and the cat lady in the apartment across from hers. And you, she hoped. “Future reference, okay.”  

For a while, you watched and talked each other's ears off about nothing at all, sometimes nothing relating to space. Any anxiety she was having before was nowhere to be found next to you under some fake, though beautiful, stars.  

“Tell me about you.” You said suddenly. You and Ellie leaned back as much as the cushioned chairs would allow. As you turned to look at her, the violet hue of the screen illuminated your relaxed expression. 

“What do you wanna know?” Ellie turned her body to mirror yours. 

“I’m gonna be cheesy if I say everything, but..everything. Like, what’s your biggest dream?”

Ellie hummed, running the blunt tip of her fingernail across the arm rest you shared. She was quiet, sifting through the details she could tell you. Everything was a hefty order. So, she’d start with something simple. She pointed to the screen. “I’d, uh, want to visit space. Not necessarily talk to aliens or anything.” That would be cool. “I’d wanna study it. Find out everything.” She glanced at you, your attentive gaze making her self conscious of her answer. “I used to wanna be an astronaut, some time ago.”

“I could imagine that.” You grinned. “You’d be a hot astronaut.”

She burst out laughing. “That’s what you took from that?” 

“No! I was listening, I promise! Have you ever looked into it?”

She shook her head. “My dad was on my back about choosing something realistic.” She froze. It was the first time she had talked about him with getting the urge to cry. Granted, it was still painful, but she could be reminded of the good times without dwelling about how they ended. She shook the thoughts away. She didn’t need to bring her baggage on a date. “Plus, I’m too lazy to be an astronaut.”

“Really? Cause you look pretty active to me.” You squeezed her arm. She hissed as if it hurt a great deal and swatted your hand away. “Aw,” You cooed at her imaginary suffering. 

“Y’know what, it’s time for you to talk about yourself. What’s your dream, life story, all of that?” 

“You didn’t talk about your life story!”

“You didn’t ask.”

“It was encompassed into the everything question.” Your voice naturally got louder in the otherwise quiet theater-like space. Ellie snickered at your brief embarrassment. “Whatever, I’ll lead by example.” You dramatically cleared your throat. “I’ve been in New York all my life. I’ve got..one insanely annoying little brother. My dad’s a cop. My mom’s a paralegal. And, to be honest with you I have no idea what I wanna be as long as it’s not a cop or a paralegal.” You huffed as you finished. 

“Stand up example.” Ellie nodded. “Your family sounds..” 

“Annoying?”

“I was gonna say good, but okay. They sound like they really care about you." If only she still knew the feeling.

 “You say that, but you won’t think so when my dad’s grilling you.” 

“I hope you mean that metaphorically.” She thought about how stubborn your father had been in putting out a search for her. How it had taken a whole bunch of saving to prove to him she wasn’t causing harm. She couldn’t imagine having to deal with him as herself, dating his daughter. 

“I don't.”

"I'll manage anyway,"

A growl of her stomach had broken through the romantic atmosphere, causing you to break out into laughter. She'd have been embarrassed had it not been the cutest sound she'd ever heard. "Okay I'm hungry, so what? Give a girl a break." 

"You want a break or a solution?" Without another word, you were pulling her somewhere else. Not too many blocks down, the bell rang as you pushed through the door. Greetings were exchanged in a language she didn't understand. "I hope you like dumplings." You practically bounced on your feet as you paid. "and have no allergies." 

Ellie thought she had been imagining the constant glances from the old couple behind the counter until you spoke. "Don't worry about them, they're just sussing you out. I don't usually come here with anybody." 

Ellie turned around, giving an awkward wave to which she got a friendly smile from both. that was before they retreated to the back, probably to gossip. "You seem like you know everybody and everything here." 

“I had to get out, talk to people otherwise I'd go crazy. If my dad had it his way I’d still be at home.”

“My dad, he..um. trust me, he tried.” She swallowed. "Every time I came home it was 'where we you?' and 'who were you with?'" She let out something of a nervous chuckle, hoping talking about Joel wouldn't be the think to tank this date. She hoped nothing would tank this date.

“Hey, are you okay?” You placed your hand on hers, face frowned with concern.  

Ellie blinked. She was surprised but the interruption from her thoughts was exactly what she needed. She placed her hand on top of yours. “Yeah, i’m fine.” 

You didn’t believe her. she couldn’t blame you, she was a terrible liar. Plus, lying on the first date wasn’t a wise move. “My dad died a few years ago.” Trauma wasn’t dumping either, but she was hoping she’d get points for honesty.  

You squeezed her hand. “I'm so sorry,” Your hand moved from under hers to intertwine your fingers.  

“No, you didn’t know. It's fine.” She sighed deeply, eyes glued to the web of your fingers together. It didn’t take her long to become accustomed to the feeling of your hand on hers.  

“You know you don’t have to say it’s fine every time you don’t wanna talk about it.” You looked straight at her with genuine care.  

“Well, what do you want me to say?” Ellie began swiping her thumb over each knuckle. She hadn’t even noticed a server coming over to bring your food. the girl’s eyes seemed to linger at the way you and Ellie's hand reconnected over the food.  

“That you don’t want to talk about it.” 

“And you’re just gonna accept that?” 

“Not all the time but, it’s better than ‘i’m fine’ all the time. I like honesty” You’d disconnected one of your hands to prepare things. Ellie had to pretend not to be disappointed at the tiniest loss of contact. Instead, she watched you set everything up particularly like you worked here yourself.   

“Y’know you don’t have to do all that.” she sat back as you opened the basket of dumplings. The steam filled the air between you.  

“I want to,” You said in unison. Ellie laughed at your surprise. You grabbed the basket and turned your back against her playfully. “No! I don’t get to eat, just because I know all your lines now?” 

“Hm, maybe not.” You resisted the urge to laugh as you set them down again. Ellie held her hand over her chest in dramatic relief. She watched as you grabbed kiddie chop-sticks. “Don’t judge.” 

“I’m not.” She was definitely grinning as she watched you. It was funny, considering you seemed to come here often, but she wasn’t gonna tease you about it. “Although, I really wish I had my camera right now.” Okay, maybe a little.  

“Liar.” You peeked up at her as you happily stuffed your mouth with dumplings.  

Ellie was just about to do the same when the small TV posted up in the corner above your head was unmuted. Broadcasted sounds of panic filled the small shop. There was a pile-up on the bridge; only a line of cars were in the position to take a plunge into the water below. “Shit,” Ellie grabbed her phone and was already up before her eyes landed on you. 

“What’s wrong? Do you have family there?” You said in concern. 

“I don’t know. I should..I should check though, shouldn’t I?” 

“Definitely, go ahead. I’ll be here when you get back.”  

Only you weren’t. By the time Ellie had been done getting everyone off the bridge and safe, night had fallen and she could only assume you had left the restaurant thinking she stood you up. Or in the slight chance Ellie was lucky, you thought she went to make sure her family was safe, but she usually wasn’t. Meaning, her first attempt to be normal after..everything that happened last year had gone exactly how she thought it would. Just great.

thank you for reading!

[milla-frenchy]

Bad girl

7k4 | Joel Miller x fem reader x Tommy Miller Summary: you break into Joel Miller’s house but not everything goes according to plan Warnings: 18+mdni. Dubcon Voyeurism, threesome mfm (dp), dirty talk, degradation, masturbation (f/m), oral (f/m), bondage, spanking, spitting, slapping, manhandling, horny reader, rimming, unprotected piv, ass play, anal, creampie. No age specified, no outbreak a/n : after Keep on your mean side and The burglary, this is the 3rd fic @aurorawritestoescape and I wrote together. We hope you’ll like it ❤️ Kate, writing with you is always such a pleasure ❤️❤️❤️ ILY baby 💕🫶

Kate's masterlist | My masterlist | ao3

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

You hacked his cell phone, his laptop, his alarm and video surveillance system several weeks ago. You studied his habits, what time he got up, what time he came home, and went to bed. 

Joel Miller.

He runs one of the biggest construction companies in the region, and he is in charge of projects for a lot of  wealthy clients. You had been paid to get plans of a house he’d built for one of them. 

Having studied him well, you knew whether after coming home, he was going to eat, watch TV, go to bed, or watch porn, based on the way he walked, held himself, threw his keys on the cabinet in the hall. 

He  watched a lot of porn. Mainly rough, raw fucking, and gangbangs. 

The first time you saw him watching porn, you had two surveillance screens in front of you, and you could see what he was watching, and him, at the same time.

That first time, he started playing the video, and touched himself through the jeans. He did it slowly, taking his time, before unzipping his pants, and pulling out his cock and then his balls. 

When you saw his dick, you couldn't believe your eyes. His cock was thick and long. You've never seen such a big dick, except in porn. 

And the second time you watched him, you couldn’t help but touch yourself too. Matching your rhythm to his, imagining his cock in your mouth, you wondered if you’d be able to take it all. What did his cum taste like. Then you imagined him thrusting into your pussy. Forcing its way inside your core, spreading your folds. You tried to feel the emotions it would give you, him fucking you. How he would tear you apart. How it could even make you cry. 

You were imagining it every time you watched him, while his hand was moving up and down his cock. And when he came, you would come with him, moaning and imagining his cum spurted deep inside your pussy.

Last night, you received a notification when he got home. You approached your screens, your plate with pasta in hand. But this time he wasn't alone. He was walking up the stairs following a woman. His eyes were fixed on her ass in a tight dress. When they came to the bedroom, she turned to him and wanted to caress his cheek. But he grabbed her hand, stopping her, before taking her other hand as well, and pinning them behind her back. She paused for a moment, and he kissed her, his body against hers, before releasing her hands and grabbing her ass. 

You put down your plate, and sat down facing the screens. You couldn’t believe you were going to watch him fuck someone, after everything your mind had been imagining so far.

He told her to get on her knees, and he slowly pulled out his hard cock. You saw her eyes widen, like yours a few weeks ago. He didn't even ask her to suck him off. Everything about his attitude expressed dominance. The way he was towering over her holding his cock tightly. His gaze ordered her to blow him, without a word being needed to say. She took his tip in her mouth while he was still holding his cock.

You zoomed in on the camera, to see her face, her mouth up close. The way her lips curved around the tip, the way she tried her best to take it all. He kept talking to her, telling her how well she was doing, what a good girl she was. How he couldn’t wait to fuck her cunt.

You slipped your hand into your pants and ran your index finger along your folds through your panties. You moaned, feeling how wet the fabric was.

On the screen, she was now taking him in her mouth entirely with greed. She emanated the desire for him. He continued his praise, and she was moaning at each word. 

He told her to get up and get on the bed, on all fours, and to keep her clothes on.

He stripped completely naked, and even though it obviously wasn't the first time you'd seen him like that, once again you couldn't help but whimper. His torso was V-shaped, with broad shoulders and a thin waist. You marveled at his back muscles, his biceps, flexing as he knelt behind her. 

He pulled her dress up over her waist, and caressed the roundness of her buttocks, before spanking her firmly. She cried out, but didn’t try to move away from him. He smirked and spanked her a second time, harder, before pulling her panties down her thighs, and taking them off entirely. 

He spread her ass cheeks with his big hands and leaned down, licking a stripe from her pussy to her ass. You saw her back arch and you envied her so much that your left hand tightened on your thigh. You couldn't wait any longer so you inserted your index and middle fingers into your pussy, to get them wet. You were so soaked that you could hear the obscene sounds your pussy was making. You glided your digits up to your clit, eyes fixed on the screen, where he was eating her out, his nose buried in her ass. 

After he made her come, he stood up, grabbed his cock, and positioned himself at her entrance, waiting. You held your breath, and you imagined that she was certainly holding hers. You slid your middle finger down to your entrance, and moaned, like she did when he thrusted in slowly. You were pushing your finger into your weeping pussy while he was pushing his cock into hers. You groaned, wishing you didn’t have only your fingers to get off, far from feeling what she could feel. He paused when his tip was inside her. She moaned, again, pleading, “oh my god Joel…you’re too big. Move, please. Move.” He grabbed her hips and pulled back, before thrusting in again, firmly, this time without stopping. Fucking her intermittently, flooding her with his dirty talk, alternating praise and light degradation. How she was taking it good, how he was fucking her like the little slut she was. Sometimes, he would slow down the pace, before speeding up again. 

Your orgasm hit you unexpectedly. Lazily, you continued to stroke yourself, spreading your wetness from your hole to your clit. Soon she came on his cock, crying out his name. A few minutes later he sent his load on her face, after ordering her to kneel on the floor.

Fuck, you thought. It wasn't the first time you'd seen one of the people you were watching fuck, but it was the first time you were unable to resist the urge to touch yourself, too turned on by what you were seeing on the screen.

After looking through all the data you collected, you still had nothing about the plans. You knew he had an old-fashioned safe. They must have been there. Your last option was to get the plans after breaking into his house, and forcing him to give you the combination. And you were going to do it the next night.

You enter his home, after paralyzing the alarm and surveillance system, and creating a video loop. You are dressed in black: hoodie, pants, gloves, balaclava. You walk quietly, using your phone to track him and check his whereabouts in the house. You go upstairs and head towards his bedroom. You know he's sitting at his desk checking his emails, his back to the bedroom door. A rookie mistake that made you smile the first time you spied on him. You take out your gun before entering the bedroom, so as not to make any noise. You know the carpet in his room will muffle the sound of your footsteps. You pass through his door frame, the gun pointed at him.

“Hands in the air, and turn around, slowly. Don’t get up.”

He freezes when he hears you and immediately looks at his surveillance screens, yet they don’t show you. You can tell he's frowning, like he does so often. You remove the safety, and say “don’t make me repeat it.” He raises his hands in the air and slowly turns around. You see his gaze trying to peer into yours. But the light in his room is dim, and the balaclava doesn't allow him to see much. Your voice leaves no doubt that you are a woman, but you notice that he quickly looks behind you, to see if you are not alone. He seems surprised when he sees nobody else there.

“Slowly roll your chair towards me, 4 feet.”

He does as you ask, keeping his hands in the air and his gaze on you.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” you say, taking out a pair of handcuffs. “I was able to neutralize your entire surveillance system. You understand that I am used to this type of intervention, right?”

He nods as you move closer to him. You chain him to the chair, your gun still pointed at him. 

“Do what I ask, and I'll leave. Ok?"

He nods, and waits. He looks calm. You point to the wall on the other side of his bed with the painting that hides the safe.

"The combination?"

He gives it to you, and you go to open the safe, still watching him. The plans are there, stored with the others, which have no value to you.

You take the ones you need and walk around the bed, facing him again. An idea comes to you. Totally unprofessional. You look at him, and you think about all the times you spied on him. All those times you watched him jerk off. You think about the woman he fucked last night. You shake your head, trying to get rid of the thoughts that come to your mind.

You think about his cock again. His cum spurting out, reaching his lower abdomen, his thighs. The drops that glisten on his clenched fist. Without realizing it, you glance at his crotch. Half a second, but enough for him to notice it, and something changes in his eyes. He shows astonishment at first, then... interest. As if he was reading your mind. But he doesn't say anything. You're not surprised as he demonstrates his unfailing self-control. 

And something inside you switches. You want to challenge him, to break his composure. So you do what you've never done, you put your professionalism aside and let your primal instincts take over. After all, you got what you came for. The plans. 

“I’ve been watching you for a long time.” He tilts his head to the side, slightly, and waits. “Nights, mornings, evenings.” You discern a slight grin. But he doesn't crack. So you push again. “I saw the videos you watch. Several times a week. And I saw you with that woman last night.”

“And?”

“And, I’m gonna take out your cock, and you’re gonna be a good boy, and let me do it, ok?”

You know, having seen him fuck that woman, that “good boy” isn’t exactly the correct way to describe him. He isn’t a nice guy when he’s fucking. But then again, you are hoping to crack his armor.

“Well, darlin’... seems like I don’t have a choice.”

You know it’s a bad idea, and his response doesn’t reassure you. His tone is far too confident. But you have already crossed the line. Also he is tied up, and you are armed. You think “fuck it” and approach him.

You place the gun on his desk, and kneel down, putting your hand on his crotch. You stay like that, your hand simply placed. You've watched him so many times, you've wanted him so many times, and now you don't want to hurry. You feel his cock twitch. You look up at him, and he tilts his head to the side, smirking. You unbutton his pants and slide your hand inside. He's not wearing underwear and you shiver when you feel the skin of his semi-hard cock. 

A little voice inside you asks what the hell you're doing, putting yourself in danger like this. Kneeling in front of him, while he’s sitting in his chair. He could throw himself forward, or hit you with one of his knees. Make you fall. Even if his hands are tied up, it's too risky. You have always been calm in your work, extremely careful and conscientious. And then you put everything aside. For a cock.

You straddle him, and bring your nose to his neck. You breathe him in. His natural smell, his perfume. Finally you hear his breathing speeding up. The first sign of a slight crack in his armor. You grind your pelvis, brushing it against his crotch, and you feel him grow beneath you.

“Darlin’, are you sure you wanna start this?”

You face him defiantly and this time you don't hesitate before taking out his cock. It’s much harder than a few moments ago. You offer him your hand, palm up and say “spit.” He spits, and after taking him in your hand, you begin gently jerking him.

“Fuck, sweetheart…you want it that bad?” You release his cock and rub yourself against him, through your thin pants, bracing your hands on his shoulders. He sighs deeply this time.

“How many times did you touch yourself, watching me, darlin’?”

You don’t answer, so he smiles and adds “that many, huh? This little pussy needs my fat cock so much you’re ready to risk your mission for takin’ it?”

“Don’t make me gag you”, you say, feeling his precum soak through your clothes.

“Oh, sweetheart…come on…I’m sure you like this talk. A slut like you, wants to hear nasty things. You wanna hear me, telling you how I’m gonna fuck your holes.”

“Fuck”, you say, grinding against him a little faster.

“Just what I thought. Fuck, the things I’d do to you, if I weren’t tied up. I’d make you scream on my thick cock.”

You tilt your head back getting lost in the pleasure, turned on even more by his dirty talk. 

You miss the way his gaze darts to the door and don’t hear a man quietly approaching you two. 

The next thing you feel is hands grabbing you by the arms and throwing you off Joel. You fall on the floor, hitting your head and back and get disoriented for a second. The carpet softens your fall, and you rush to get up but the man jumps you and straddles your hips. “Get her!” you hear Joel roar behind you two. The man clasps your wrists with his big hands and you see his face. You recognise him immediately - Tommy Miller, Joel’s brother and his business partner. He overpowers you easily and pins your hands over your head. His face is right over you, his thighs and crotch push your hips to the floor and you can’t help but get turned on. What the fuck is wrong with you? First Joel and now him?! 

You’re scolding yourself inwardly trying to push the man off, but his legs are too strong and you’re completely powerless against him. 

“Hey, baby,” he greets you with a smile, breathing heavily over you and you hiss back, “Get off me!”

He just laughs and quickly gets up, pulling you up and dragging you to the bed. He throws you on the soft mattress and straddles your waist this time. 

Joel shouts, “Handcuffs, top drawer, Tommy!”

Fuck! Of course he has handcuffs!

You wriggle under Joel’s brother but the man grabs your shoulders and presses you against the bed. He clasps your throat and squeezes it lightly, making you focus on unclamping his fingers around your neck while he opens the drawer in the nightstand with his free hand and finds the handcuffs. You scream, the sound hoarse and weak because of the hand around your throat. As the last attempt to break free, you hit his back really hard and Tommy grunts and slaps your face with the hand holding the handcuffs. It doesn’t hurt much as your face is still covered with the balaclava but the whiplash makes you stop fighting for a second and it’s enough for him to lift your hand and handcuff you to the headboard. You hear Joel laugh with triumph and start tugging on the chain. You sit up hastily and Joel tells Tommy to get the handcuffs’ key from your pocket. 

He locks eyes with you and smirks, and you notice his semi hard cock twitch. You grind your teeth feeling anger and frustration rise up in your throat, as Tommy searches for the key. 

Having found it he runs to his brother and unlocks the handcuffs. Joel tucks his cock in his pants, then gets up rubbing his wrists, and steps up to the foot of the bed. Nerves and fear are gnawing at your stomach but you don’t show it, throwing daggers at the men with your blown eyes. 

“What the fuck is it, Joel? Is it one of your exes?” Tommy asks with a chuckle, placing his hands on the hips and looking you over. 

“Not yet,” Joel replies, walking around the bed and coming closer to you. You start tugging on the chain with both hands, being afraid of what they might do to you. Joel’s hand darts to your head and he takes your balaclava off in one swift move. 

“Pretty little slut,” Joel praises you and Tommy whistles. 

“Fuck you!” you spit out glaring at the men. 

“You will, sweetheart, don’t worry,” Joel chuckles and turns to his brother throwing your mask on the floor. 

“Can you believe it, Tommy? Catwoman here wanted to get the plans from my safe and also bounce on my cock?”

Tommy gawks at you and then a lopsided smile twists his face, “What a slut! Wait! You sure she’s not a birthday hooker a friend sent you? The role playing kind?” 

Joel doesn’t tear his eyes off you, examining every inch of your body and face, “Nah, she’s a professional. Been surveilling me for some time, deactivated my security system.” 

“She was grinding on your dick when I found you two. Not very professional,” Tommy chuckles and you avert your eyes as shame twists your stomach. 

“She’s a pro and a huge slut I guess,” Joel adds with a smirk. As if your own body mocks you, you feel yourself gush hearing their words. 

“She’s hot, Joel, we can give the girl what she wants,” Tommy says, flopping at the foot of the bed.

“I don’t want your dicks, you assholes, let me go!” you exclaim but your command sounds far from confident. You know you’re toast. They’ll call the police and you’ll be arrested and sentenced and …

“Want a deal, sweetheart?” Joel interrupts your pessimistic thoughts with a question. He walks to his brother and sits next to him on the other side of the bed. Too far for you to kick him. 

“How about the three of us spend this night together and in the morning we’ll let you go. Without my plans of course. But I won’t call the police on you and will forget all about your… visit”, he adds and you see Tommy’s eyes light up at the proposition. 

They’re both looking at you waiting for your answer and you swallow loudly before asking with a shaky voice, “you promise?” 

Tommy shoots you a blinding smile while Joel’s smirk disappears and his eyes get dark when he replies, “I guess you know me well by now, darlin’, so you’re aware that I  always keep my promises.” 

You turn your head to look at your hand chained to the bed, then return your gaze back to the two men staring at you, and you know you have no other choice if you want to get out of the situation as a free person. 

You nod chewing on your lip, nervously glancing at Joel and then Tommy. 

“Words, sweetheart, I want to hear you say it,” Joel commands in a soft but stern tone. 

“Yes, I agree.”

“Good girl,” Tommy coos at you as he gets up and comes up to you. He sits down on the bed inches from you and looks at Joel, waiting for his older brother to give him a command. 

“Don’t uncuff her yet,” Joel grunts, adjusting his bulge, “she might be lying to us. I wanna see her naked first.”

“I won’t run, I promise,” you beg, pleading eyes glued to Joel. 

But the man only smirks, “I’m not sure I can believe a thief like yourself. We’ll undress you and play with you and you’ll be uncuffed when I say so, got it, little slut?” Joel rumbles and you rub your thighs to get much needed pressure on your pussy. His voice, his confidence, his words ignite fire inside your core. 

“Yes,” you reply and take a deep breath. You feel nervous but it mixes with the familiar excitement that you usually feel before fucking someone for the first time. You tell yourself you need to be focused to find an opportunity to escape but your pussy aches with desire that clouds your mind. Joel gets up and  settles down next to you. 

“Take her pants off,” he tells Tommy and his brother immediately follows the command, unclasping the button and tugging the zipper down while Joel lifts up your hoodie exposing your bra. Tommy tugs down your pants and you lift your hips helping him. You want to show how eager you are to fuck them, to make them trust you. You don’t have to act that hard though. 

Tommy quickly takes the pants off your legs and the men pause, staring at your black lacy set. He licks his lower lip and Joel adjusts himself again. 

“Fuck, are you absolutely sure she’s not a hooker, brother?” Tommy asks, not tearing his eyes from your body. 

“She’s got a gun, Tommy,” Joel gambles, nodding in the direction of the desk. 

Tommy looks back just noticing the gun, stands up and walks to it. You see him taking your weapon and fear freezes your heart. Tommy confidently opens the magazine and checks the bullets. 

“Fuck, it’s real,” he mumbles looking back at you with concern in his dark eyes, “You know you can kill someone with this thing, kitty?” 

You look at him confidently and a smile tugs at your lips. Joel interrupts you two with his gruff voice,

“Enough talking. Let’s fuck her already.” He leans closer to you and tugs down your bra. Tommy returns to the bed and immediately gets between your legs. They ogle at your naked breasts pushed up by the bra and you bite your lips seeing how hard your nipples are for them. 

“You've got pretty tits, baby," Tommy praises you while his warm hands are gliding up and down your thighs.

"Would look even prettier with my cum on 'em," Joel mumbles as he takes your nipple between his fingers and twists it. You whimper and they both chuckle.

"Thirsty little slut," Joel comments and then tells Tommy to take your panties off. The younger brother hooks his thumbs under the waistband giving you a smile, pulls your soaked panties down and slides them off your legs. He tosses them on the floor and pushes on the insides of your thighs, opening you wider.

The men leer at your glistening pussy and the atmosphere in the room shifts. The air gets heavier, thicker as their blown and hungry eyes take in every inch of your exposed body. They are fully driven by instinct now. They caught you and it's time to devour their prey.

Joel grumbles, “Look at this sloppy cunt, Tommy, she’s been soaking my bed all this time”. 

You want to close your legs but Tommy holds them open, asking with a smirk, “Do you like being handcuffed so much, or does the humiliation turn you on?”

“I think her cunt’s getting ready to be pounded by two big cocks,” Joel rumbles. 

“Remind me sweetheart, what were ya doin’ to me before my brother came?”

You feel yourself blushing and struggle to respond, stammering a few words “I uh…”

“Don’t act shy. Not after rubbing against me like a whore. Not after ruining this job for my cock.”

He grabs your chin with his hand, and lifts your face towards his.

“Tell my brother what you saw last night”, he asks, his piercing eyes fixed on you.

“I…saw him having sex with a woman.”

“Having sex?” Joel smirks.

“Fucking a woman” you correct, as you look at him defiantly this time.

“No shit! Liked what you saw, baby?” Tommy asks.

You can't help but shiver thinking back to the images from the evening before, thinking that you're going to be fucked the same way as her, and you feel your pussy clench.

“Did you touch yourself, watching my brother fuck her?”

There's no point in lying now, and you answer "yes. Yes I touched myself. Till I came.”

“Oh…such a bad girl” Tommy sneers.

Joel finally releases you from the handcuffs, takes off your hoodie and bra, and Tommy moves to the side of the bed. Joel turns you around, making you lie face down. You’re clenching your fists at your sides, breathing heavily, waiting for what they’re going to do to you. The bed lowers under Joel’s weight, and you feel his bulge in the hollow of your ass, and his mouth at your ear.

“Did you enjoy turning me on? Playing with my cock and my nerves?” He presses his crotch harder against you and you can’t help but moan hearing his words, and feeling his body against yours. He slips his hand between your bodies and you hear a zipper. The next moment he nudges your entrance with his fat tip, barely pushing in.

“Oh fuck!”

“Don’t act surprised. You know I have a big one. Did you imagine taking it in your cunt? Your mouth?"

When you don’t respond quickly enough, Tommy intervenes “kitty, come on. We already know you’re a slut. Be a good girl and answer him.”

Joel pushes his cock in a little deeper and you exclaim, “Yes! Yes I imagined you fucking me, damnit.”

“You’re so fucking wet…” he thrusts in slowly, and you can’t help but hold your breath. You feel your walls parting, just how you imagined, and you gasp.

“Fuck, this cunt is so tight, Tommy…I don’t know if I’ve ever fucked a hole this tight.” He grabs your hair with one hand, one hip with the other one, using it as leverage every time he thrusts in, deeper each time, until he bottoms out. He sighs, staying still, "so darlin', is it what you hoped for?"

“Don't stop please, move, move… You’re… fuck. Your dick is too fat.” He chuckles in your ear, hearing you. "I won't move unless you answer me."

“Yes, fuck…yes!”

He smiles and places his forearms on either side of your body, pulling his pelvis back before thrusting deep. Every movement makes you suffocate.

“Mmmm you take it so good, sweetheart. Remember, when you wanted me to be a good boy, earlier? Am I?” you hear a smirk in his tone, now that he is using you like he pleases. He keeps pounding you against the bed, and you can’t even answer him. Not that he wants you to.

You look to the side at Tommy, his eyes fixed on the two of you, his hand slowly stroking his cock, and damn, he's almost as big as his brother. When he sees your gaze on him, he smiles, saying “Oh, baby… wondering how you’re gonna manage to take our cocks. We’ll make them fit, don’t worry.”

Joel is thrusting in quickly now, his mouth still close to your ear, his grunts turning you on even more. He slows down, then withdraws. You feel empty and whine, and he spanks your ass.

He gets up, tucks his cock in his jeans, and says “bring her here” to his brother. He walks towards his desk and pushes everything carelessly to the side with one hand. Tommy grabs your arm to help you up, lifts you by the thighs and you wrap your legs around his waist. Your pussy comes to rest on his crotch, and you moan again. He grabs his cock and slides it directly into your entrance and your pussy clenches on it. The position allows him to pierce you so deep you gasp.

​”Yeah, baby, just like that. My brother was right, you're fuckin’ tight.”

He takes the back of your neck in his hand and kisses you, his tongue seeking yours hungryly. His perfume smells of violets, cedar and patchouli, and it intoxicates you. He carries you to the desk, keeping you pressed down on his shaft, still kissing you, and then sits you down on it. He moves away pulling out of you and Joel takes his place between your thighs, placing his hand on your pussy. He pushes two fingers in, eyes fixed on yours and you moan at the intrusion. His thumb finds your clit, and rubs it in circles.

“Want that cock? Gotta earn it. Cum on my fingers,” he orders you.

Tommy takes your chin between his fingers, turns your face towards him and you two kiss again. He grabs your hand and places it against his crotch, and you groan, your tongue against his. Joel runs his nose along your cheek, and whispers in your ear “I can’t wait for us both to fuck you, sweetheart.”

“Fuck you’re so hot, baby,” Tommy tells you, parting his lips from yours as your hand is jerking his cock. “You’re gonna cum on my brother’s fingers?”

“Yeah…” you breathe out, resting your forehead against Tommy’s. Soon your pussy starts clenching on Joel’s fingers and you come moaning loudly. He lets you ride out your orgasm, releasing your clit from his thumb, but pushing a third finger into your pussy.

“Okay, lay down now,” he tells you, pressing on your chest. 

Your breathing struggles to calm down, as you’re lying with your legs spread shamelessly on the desk of the guy you were supposed to rob. He and his brother already fucked you, and part of you doesn't understand how you got to this point. The other part of you doesn’t give a fuck about the plans. You wait, your gaze darting from one man to the other.

Joel finally removes his fingers from your pussy and licks them, while looking at you. Everything about him smells like a wild animal. He is dominant and calm. 

Joel spreads your folds with his thumbs, saying “Look how this cunt is drooling.”

“Damn! I wanna clean this pussy up, man.” Joel steps aside to make way for Tommy who kneels between your legs, hands resting on your inner thighs, holding you open against the table.

He brings his face closer to your pussy and spits on it, making you shiver. He smears his saliva with his thumb and you can't help but arch your back. He grabs one of your calves and places it against his shoulder, spreading your other thigh further on the table.

You bite your lip, and glance at Joel. He looks like a feline getting ready to devour a mouse and taking its time, knowing that the prey has nowhere to go. Tommy spits again, this time spreading the saliva all the way to your ass. You tense up slightly and he laughs, saying “come on, baby, relax. I see your little hole contracting. I'm sure it wants some dick too.” The tip of his tongue presses against your ring, and you bring your hand to your mouth. You didn’t consider they’d fuck you there, and you wonder if you'll be able to take one of them. They are much girthier than anyone who has ever fucked your ass.

Tommy continues to run his tongue over your ass, and pushes his thumb into your pussy. The double stimulation makes you moan and you close your eyes for a moment. When you open them again, Joel is standing next to your face, cock in hand. You gulp seeing it so close. His cock is gorgeous, but thick. So thick.

“Open”, he says, and you obey. You round your lips, stick out your tongue a little, and look at him, letting him take the initiative. He places the tip on your tongue and leans forward slightly, just enough to spit on his shaft. The saliva disappears in your mouth along with his cock.

As Joel's dick slides into your mouth down to your throat, Tommy licks from your ass to your clit, and replaces his thumb with two fingers, then three. His ring finger moves down from your pussy to your ass, and he presses lightly to get it inside. He focuses his tongue on your clit and fucks both of your holes with his fingers. Quickly, you feel a wave of pleasure wash over you, and Joel pulls back, squeezing your throat in his hand with a firm grip. He holds your throat tight throughout your orgasm. When your spasms subside, Tommy tells you to turn around, and you lean over the table, cheek resting against the wood. He spreads your buttocks and spits on your ass, before licking it again with the flat of his tongue. Joel stands in front of his brother, on the other side of the desk, and tells you, “Suck my cock. Again.”

You plant on your forearms on the desk and take him into your mouth, just as Tommy stands up and thrusts suddenly into your pussy, his thumb buried in your ass.

“Oh fuck… I love that pussy. But your ass is next. Ya gonna take it, right baby?”

He doesn't wait for you to respond, and fucks you quickly, Joel’s cock still sliding in your throat.

“Is she ready to take it up her ass?” Joel asks brushing the hair away from your face while you’re choking on his thick member. 

“She’ll never be ready for my big dick,” Tommy laughs, “but I’m sure she’s a brave girl, huh?” He slaps your asscheeks, getting your attention. 

Your whole body is sliding back and forth along the table. You feel like a fuck toy in their greedy hands and you love the feeling so much, you can’t concentrate on anything less. You raise your hazy eyes up to Joel and he smirks seeing your fucked out face. 

“Damn, Tommy, you should see her right now, the slut’s on cloud nine,” he pauses, thrusting into your mouth and adds, “let’s get her back to the bed. I’m ready to pump her full of my cum.”

Tommy immediately follows his brother’s order and pulls out of your weeping hole. His thumb leaves your ass at the same time Joel’s cock slides out of your mouth. You whine feeling empty without their dicks and fingers plugging you up and the brothers laugh at you. You feel Tommy’s hands under your arms as he’s helping you up on your feet. Your legs are trembling and you grab his shoulders for stability. He whistles seeing the state of you. “Let me help you, baby.” He takes your body in his arms and carries you bridal style to the bed. 

Joel’s already waiting for you there, his back resting against the headboard. He’s looking at you with a smirk. You hate his smug expression but can’t deny the immense pleasure they both are giving you tonight. 

“Come here, darlin’, time to sit on my cock.”

Tommy kisses your temple and places you on Joel’s lap who quickly manhandles you into straddling him, with your knees on the bed and pussy pressing Joel’s throbbing cock to his lower belly. He grabs your hips with his big hands, as his thumbs are drawing circles on your skin. 

“Got lube?” Tommy asks and Joel nodes to the nightstand. While Tommy is searching for it you drop your head and marvel at Joel’s angry tip. It’s leaking precum on his belly and absentmindedly you deep your finger into the little puddle and bring it to your lips to taste him again. You look up at Joel sucking on your digit while he’s watching you with a hungry gaze. 

“Remember what I told you, earlier? The things I would do to you, if I weren’t tied up. How I’d make you scream on this thick cock. Well, darlin’... it’s time to scream on it.” 

He spreads his legs and you sense the bed deep down under Tommy’s weight. He’s behind you, between Joel's legs now and you feel his breath on your neck, his fingers caressing your arms. 

“Let’s do it, brother,” you hear Tommy mumble behind you and in the next moment Joel’s hand lifts you as he holds his cock up. 

“Can’t believe it’s been so long since we used a fuckdoll like that…All we needed was a hot slut, and this one came to us by herself.”

You whimper at his words, and keep yourself steady by placing your hands on his shoulders, feeling the steel of his muscles under your palms. He nudges your hole with his wet tip and being impatient to be plugged up again, you sink on his cock in one go. Joel breathes out with a groan and you hear Tommy’s “fuck”. You moan, feeling Joel’s cock hit your cervix and start moving your hips riding him as your walls are trying to accommodate his girth. 

Tommy presses his chest to your back as his hands snake around your body and he cups your breasts, pinching and twisting your nipples. 

“Let me fuck your tight ass, baby. I’ll be gentle I promise,” you hear his whispering in your ear and you can’t believe you agree so fast, but as if your body acts on its own you bend over pressing your breasts to Joel’s chest and resting your face in the crook of his neck. His smell intoxicates you and you continue grinding your hips against him, rubbing your clit on his lower stomach. 

“Don’t be too rough, Tommy, we don’t wanna break her,” Joel says and his neck vibrates, pressed to your lips, and you dart out your tongue to lick his skin. 

He chuckles as his arms envelop your body and he thrusts up into you making you gasp. “Ready for both of our cocks, sweetheart? My brother’s dick is getting cold,” he mumbles into your ear and you whine with need. They take it as a yes and you feel a glob of lube land on your ring. Tommy pushes his finger into your tight hole and starts working you open slowly while Joel is sliding his length in and out of you. 

Tommy’s finger leaves your asshole but is quickly replaced by the tip of his cock. You take a deep breath of air and Joel hugs you tighter, comforting you, “you can do it, darlin’. He’s big but you just need to relax. I’m sure a slut like you will love it.”

With that he tilts your head up and his lips find yours. He’s kissing you gently, holding the back of your head with his hand, while the other is rubbing your back. 

You don’t simply relax, you absolutely melt into the kiss and his embrace. Every muscle of your body gets soft as Tommy slides his tip into your asshole. 

“Yeah, fuck, Joel, she’s something else. Why do I never get robbed?” Tommy huffs as his fingers are digging into your hips. 

You’re making out with Joel, his tongue tangled with yours while his brother gradually slides his whole length into your tight ass. You feel so full with both of their cocks inside you, your whole body buzzes. When Tommy’s balls hit your pussy you moan into Joel’s mouth and your lips leave his. 

“Oh, fuck,” you bite your lip mercilessly, your breaths deep and frequent, as your pussy and asshole squeeze their cocks. “please, move!” 

They don’t make you wait. Joel starts gently thrusting up into your pussy while Tommy pulls his cock out of your ass almost to the tip and then pushes it back in slowly. You’re moaning and whimpering into Joel’s neck still getting used to the feeling of two fat cocks piercing you. 

“You’re doing so good, kitty, taking us so well,” Tommy praises you, holding your asscheeks spread for him while his length disappears in your tight hole. 

“Sit up, sweetheart, wanna see you,” Joel murmurs into your ear, and gently helps you lift your torso while they’re using both of your holes. You brace yourself on his broad chest, your nails digging into his golden skin and as soon as your chest levels with his face he reaches up to take your nipple into his hot mouth. His hand is kneading your other breast and you’re reveling in an ocean of pleasure. The brothers’ cocks in your ass and pussy, Joel’s tongue swirling around your nipple, their hands squeezing and rubbing, roaming over your trembling body. It’s so much, but you crave even more. You start moving up and down on their cocks first slowly and then with higher intensity. 

“Look at this slut, Tommy. She’s full of cock and still insatiable,” Joel groans parting from your breast and Tommy takes it as a command as he begins fucking into your ass with vigor. The ache you’re feeling is nothing against the pleasure he’s giving you and you reach back with your hand grabbing his neck and pulling him to you. Soon he’s nipping and licking at your neck as the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the bedroom mixing with your moans and their growls. 

“Wanna cum again, little slut?” Joel asks.

“Cum for us, kitty,” Tommy coos at you and adds, “Fuck, Joel. Wanna bet she’ll squirt?” 

“Will you squirt on our cocks, darlin’?” Joel asks you and you moan in reply as your core tightens. 

“Shit, she’s close,” Tommy groans, fuck.. choking my cock.”

Sensing that you need a little push Joel puts his fingers on your throbbing clit and rubs it up and down. You cry out as your climax hits you and you’re shaking, squeezing their cocks as your squirt is leaking out of your used pussy. You barely hear Joel praising you “that’s it, such a good girl, coming so hard on our cocks.” They don’t stop moving and you hear lewd  squelching sounds your pussy is making.  

“Fuck, yeah!” Tommy exclaims through groans and panting. Soon they both follow you. First Tommy pumps his hot cum into your ass and then Joel erupts filling your pussy up. There’s so much cum in you it drips out of your holes while their cocks are pulsating inside you. 

When your climaxes subside, you lean on Tommy as satisfaction is coursing through your body. You’re so cock dumb you barely notice Joel’s hand on your throat. Your eyes lock as he praises you, “You did such a good job, little slut.” You give him a naughty smile, still panting.

Tommy’s hands snake around to your breasts as he gives them a playful squeeze. “That was amazing, baby. Thanks for robbing my brother,” he chuckles and then tilts your head to face him and kisses you. You’re lazily making out both still trying to catch your breath until you part from him and he pulls his cock out of you. Your asshole aches and you know tomorrow you’ll be sore but you don’t care. You get up on your knees and Joel’s softening cock unplugs your pussy. Your combined cum drips out and slides down your inner thighs. The bedding under Joel is completely soaked and you smile. 

You're exhausted and it's late. Without really realizing it, you fall asleep between the brothers. You only remember one of them pulling the blanket over your naked bodies. 

When you wake up a few hours later, it's still dark outside. You carefully get off the bed, collect your stuff, take one last look at Joel and Tommy, still asleep, and leave.

Joel wakes up from the sound of a notification on his phone. He grabs it and sees an email from bad_girl@gmail.com - 

“Thanks for the great fuck. And for the plans. You both are such good boys! And heavy sleepers;)”

******************* Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

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

Other fics that Kate and I have written together:

Keep on your mean side - Joel x f!reader - dark

The burglary - Joel x f!reader x Tommy - dead dove, noncon

The hounds of hell - Javi x f!reader x Steve - dubcon

[diamonds-of-the-first-water]

I Have Evolving Thoughts on Fran’s Sexuality

(god hannah dodd is so pretty)

First of all let’s thank GOD francesca is the queer sister and not…that other one.

Anyways upon my initial viewing of part 2 I definitely read Fran as bisexual and if you continue to read her as such I think that’s fine but my mind has changed on the matter.

I believe that Fran is actually a lesbian suffering from comphet.

The reason this actually started to seem likely to me is because of her wedding scene with John. The whole season I thought they seemed so taken with one another and I enjoyed their quiet dynamic. They were more than comfortable sitting in silence with one another and seemed to grow closer in that way.

I like many others assumed this meant their love was romantic, but that kiss

Would a woman who is attracted to men make this face after kissing the man she loves? I don’t think so. Some people seem to think it’s because she’s shy but it doesn’t seem like she’s even thinking about her family here. It seems like she has retreated into her own thoughts. It seems like she was disappointed. And after spending the whole season feeling nothing for any of the men she meets why wouldn’t she be. She met a man she loved and she kissed him and she didn’t feel those sparks.

Now Fran is also autistic coded so this initially affected the way I viewed her relationships as well, but all of that changes when you take into account Michaela.

Francesca immediately starts to stutter and is flustered when she sees Michaela. We have never seen Fran act this way with a man, even her husband. It wasn’t for no reason that Violet describes how she felt the first time she fell in love with Edmund and then almost immediately after Fran reacts the same way to Michaela. The butterflies, not being able to string a sentence together. This was foreshadowing.

Some people were upset because they said it erased everything Fran said about having a quiet love and that is somewhat true, but I disagree with people saying that it erases slowly built love when Polin’s whole story is about love not striking you like a bolt of lightning.

None of this is to say she can’t love John, I believe she does I just feel it is platonic, and the loss of John would hit hard even if he was her best friend. John is one of the great loves of her life but who is to say that love is romantic? Friendships are the foundation of our lives and they are equally as important as any romantic relationship. Fran met someone who understands her and is like her, that doesn’t mean she has to have romantic attraction for him.

Some of this is affected by personal bias as I am a late-blooming lesbian, but holy shit the way I relate to Fran wanting to get married just because it would mean she wouldn’t have to pursue any other relationships with men and the way she was willing to accept whoever the Queen deemed fit because she didn’t have any criteria except “is kind to me”. Fran does not seem to be searching for love as she has not felt it before. The closest she comes is with John because the two of them are so similar and I believe she thought that because she liked him so much that she must be in love with him which is just so…lesbian coded I don’t know how to explain it.

This isn’t to say bisexuality isn’t real or is “just a phase”. Ew. Gross. No. This is just the way I am interpreting the character with the information we have now. If it comes out definitely that she is bisexual then I will accept that, sapphic rep is so needed.

All in all they look so good and I can’t wait to see these queers kiss and have a romance.

Also I think that Michaela still could have fallen first. Fran just realized she was a dyke at that exact moment and her brain stopped working which is valid. But did you see the way Michaela looked at her. I KNOW A LESBIAN FALLING IN LOVE WHEN I SEE ONE.

[discordantwritings]

Always Return to You (Shanks x Reader NSFW)

Warnings: Some guys being creepy, gn afab! reader, love confessions, slight exhibitionism (the tavern is closed but yknow), PiV sex, creampie, not beta read

WC: 2.8k

Summary: You and Shanks have been flirting for a while now and you can’t help but wonder if it’s just entertainment for him- or if he has the same feelings that you do.

Note: I mean there’s a reason he’s bagged Buggy and Mihawk. This man has skills. This man has swagger. I hope I captured a sliver of his BDE.

When the Red Haired Pirates rolled into town you always knew you were in for some long nights serving at the local bar. You didn’t mind though, they always tipped well, were significantly nicer than your average pirate, and then, of course, there was the captain.

You never know what to make of Shanks. Logically you know he’s got a huge bounty and a reputation for being one of the strongest pirates in all the seas. But when he rolls into the bar with a lopsided grin and the laugh of a man who doesn’t have a worry you can’t see a terrifying pirate.

His crew and him hang around your bar for a week every few months while they restock in a large port nearby and you can’t help but look forward to when his ship cruises in. You’ve built quite the friendship up with Shanks over the years, finding him easy to get along with and easier to talk to. The two of you have shared stories until the morning hours and despite everything he’s experienced he still cares and pays attention to yours as much as you do his.

And, if you are able to admit just to yourself, you love the flirting. Shanks flirts with everyone, and you’re no exception to his wandering gaze and cheeky words. Even though his affections are not only for you you can’t help but feel special when his eyes travel down your figure. You give it as good as he gives too and Shanks always loves it, but neither of you have ever crossed that line.

He’s a pirate captain. You’re just some server. It’s never going to happen.

But that doesn’t stop the pang of jealousy you feel every time you see him leave the bar with someone else tucked under his arm. You would never do or say anything but deep down you wonder how it feels to have that strong hand on the small of your back or that bright red hair in your fingers while his head was-

“Did ya miss me?” You almost drop a drink when you hear Shank’s voice right next to you.

Looking up you see him leaning on the bar next to you, that stupid lopsided smile on his face. You have to fight down embarrassment that he just caught you in the middle of thoughts about him. Having been brought back to reality you finally notice the rest of his crew taking seats in the tavern, rowdy in a way that makes you feel like you’re having fun as well.

“Do you think I wait around for you to come back?” You don’t look at him, just continue loading drinks onto your tray for the other large party of pirates here.

“Of course not.” He slides a bit closer and helps you balance the final drinks. “Just thinkin’ about how I missed lookin’ at you.”

You shoot him an annoyed look, but there’s no malice behind it. “Yeah, yeah. You say that to everyone.”

“But I mean it with you.” He fires back.

“Keep dreaming.” You say as you walk away to deliver the drinks.

“Always of you baby!” He shouts with a laugh, finally moving back to his crew.

You roll your eyes but can’t help the large grin that comes over your face. Shanks has a way of making the atmosphere lighter and honestly, you needed it tonight.

The Red Haired Pirates weren’t the only group in here tonight- some low level scumbags occupied half of the tavern and you cringed when you turned to deliver their drinks and got greeted with drunken catcalls. But you took a deep breath and pushed all your emotions down as you handed everyone their drinks. At least with Shank’s crew here you know someone will tip well tonight.

Throughout the night you hover around the Red Haired Pirates, seeking the kind reprieve from the more obnoxious guests of the night. Everyone is kind to you and you catch up on the adventures they had while they were away. You don’t pay special attention to Shanks, but you can feel his gaze on you whenever you’re around. The way he looks at you versus the way everyone else does- it’s hard to place what’s different logically but it just is. You feel safe with Shanks, no matter what you know that if you ever seriously said no he would back off, which is not something you’d trust most men to do.

As the night wears on everyone gets drunker and sloppier and the guests start getting worse and worse. It’s becoming exhausting to ignore the hoots and hollers mixed with nasty whispers when you bring the next round of drinks. The Red Haired Pirates have been slowly leaving as the night wore on and not having that buffer was starting to take its toll. Luckily, Shanks was still there.

Despite the amount of drink you know he’s had he’s surprisingly composed as he sits back in the wooden booth. His gaze has something stirring underneath it and you follow his sight line over to the other crew of pirates. Sliding him another drink you decide to question him.

“They a rival crew or something?” You can’t imagine that sloppy group could compare to Shank’s crew, but you weren’t sure what else it could be.

“No.” He doesn’t stop staring. “But if those dirty assholes don’t stop eye-fucking you they are going to regret it.”

Oh.

His words stop your thoughts in your tracks and you can feel your brain having to hard reboot. Your body has no issues though and you can feel arousal pool down in your belly.

“You don’t-“ You stumble over your words as your brain finally catches up. “It’s not a big deal.”

Shanks finally turns his gaze to you and seeing him serious is a strange feeling. “It should be. You want me to deal with them?”

You glance back over at them and then down to your watch. “It’s almost closing anyways. They aren’t worth your time.”

“But you are.” When he says things like that normally he’s usually smiling with a light tilt to his voice but this time he’s deep and sincere. Your heart goes head over heels in your chest.

“I have to- um-“ You point back to the bar where a few patrons are waiting to pay their tabs.

“I’ll stay with you while you close, alright?” His words calm you, no longer having to worry about if any of your more unsavory guests are going to try and hang around after hours. You nod and smile at him before walking back to the bar to finish up your night.

You’re not sure if Shank’s egregious glaring was the reason the final hours of the night went so smooth but you’re certainly not complaining. The rowdy patrons slowly filter out as you start to clean up and Shanks is surprisingly helpful, putting up chairs while you mop the floor. However, thoughts have been gnawing at the back of your head.

Finally having everything cleaned up and ready for tomorrow you and Shanks head for the door but you stop halfway and have to speak up. “Shanks, can I ask you something?”

He stops and turns on his heels, slight concern on his face. “Of course.”

“Do you-“ Embarassment works its way up your neck and you avoid Shank’s gaze. “I just have to know if-“

Shanks is patient with you, not speaking as he walks closer to you.

“Do you actually like me.” You finally manage to spit out. “Because we have this thing and it’s fun but sometimes I wonder if this is how you act with everyone or-“

Your words trail off and there’s silence. After a few moments you work up the courage and look up at Shanks. His bright red hair falls over his face as he seems lost in thought. You don’t notice his arm moving until his hand interlinks in yours.

“I don’t think like is really the word I’d use.” He brings your hand up and presses a kiss to your knuckles. “Love might be more appropriate.”

“You can’t just say things like that.” There’s no hiding your embarrassment now, a blush probably covering every inch of your body.

“Why not?” He uses his hold to pull you in closer, your chest grazing his. “It’s true.”

“And you’re not just going to sail away and leave me here?” You squeeze his hand, searching in his eyes if he’s telling the truth.

“I always come back for you, don’t I? I certainly don’t keep coming back here for the food.” His eyes are shining and he has that signature grin back in his face.

“You’d keep coming back to me?” Your other arm comes up and drapes around his shoulder.

“Nothing could stop me.” There’s a sincerity and strength to his words that has you melting.

His face is so close to your now that he’s taking over your senses. You can smell the beer you’ve been serving him but the strong scent of the sea will probably always linger on him. You move closer, his lips painfully close to yours.

“Are you sure-“ You don’t even finish your question before Shanks has closed the small distance between you.

You’ve imagined what it would like to kiss him countless times but actually kissing him blows all of your fantasies out of the water. Slow but confident movements have you melting into him. His hand releases yours and snakes around to the small of your back, pulling your body flush with his. He doesn’t let up until you’re breathless, pulling away with a gasp.

Shanks rests his forehead against yours patiently giving you time to breathe again. Turning your gaze up you lock eyes with Shanks again and you see a flash of hunger in his gaze before he’s kissing you again. Your knees go weak and you feel the low rumble of Shank’s chuckle as he starts to lead you backwards until you feel the back of your knees connect with a table. Breaking away again you hop up to sit on the table, hands coming up to grab Shanks by the collar of his shirt to pull him in again. His legs go between yours, forcing your thighs apart as he leans over you.

“So.” His mouth comes down to your neck, words spoken in between opened mouthed kisses to the skin there. “You want me to bring you back to my ship now or bring you back to my ship after I’ve fucked you on this table.”

The moan that leaves you is involuntary and you hook your legs around his waist, hoping that answers his question for him. It doesn’t.

“Oh c’mon I want to hear you say it.” He comes back up to look you in the eyes. You try to turn away in embarrassment but his hand comes up and softly redirects your chin back to him.

“I want you to fuck me on this table.” You whisper, catching the way his pupils dilate at your words.

“That’s it sweetheart.” He returns to attacking your neck as your arms come up around his neck.

Using your grip you drag you hips up to his and grind down, moaning when you feel his clothed erection through the layers of fabric. Unable to help himself he ruts his hips into yours, biting down into your neck.

“Eager, aren’t we?” His hand is at the waistband of your pants, slipping under and down to your center. Fingers quickly find your folds and he chuckles when he feels how soaked you are.

“Been thinking about you all night.” You confess, lifting up into his touch.

“Fuck, me too.” He kisses you with a renewed heat and you gasp into his mouth when you feel his fingers push into you.

Taking advantage of that his tongue enters your mouth and you let yourself be swept up in the sensations. Two calloused fingers scissor inside you and you grip Shank’s bright red hair at the base of his neck.

It isn’t long until Shanks is pulling his fingers out and you whine at the loss. You’re about to complain until you see him bring his fingers up to his mouth and lick your slick off.

“Shit you taste good sweetheart.” You moan at his words and the heels of your shoes dig into his back. “Should I get a better taste now or later?”

Damn him and his choices. “Later- I need you inside me.”

You both break away for a few moments to fumble with your pants and you kick yours off fast, the wood cold against your bare ass. When Shanks’ pants come down you can’t help but stare. He’s big and while you are slightly afraid he’s not going to fit you would be lying if you weren’t up for the challenge.

Shanks seems equally captivated by you, his hand pushing your thighs apart so he can get a better look. “I could feel you were soaked but damn, all this for me baby?”

“Just for you.” Those words seemed to be exactly what Shanks wanted to hear because he wastes no more time.

Gripping himself he drags the tip of his cock through your slick, mixing it with the precum leaking out of him. He slaps his tip onto your clit and your hands shoot out to his shoulders to stead yourself.

“Stop being such a tease.” You huff.

“Oh c’mon you know you love it.” But he relinquishes to you, lining himself up with your entrance.

Even just the push of his tip into you stretches you and you take deep breaths as he slowly sinks further into you. The stretch rides the line between pain and pleasure and you claw at Shanks’ back.

“You’re doing so good for me baby. Taking me so well.” He whispers in you ear, soothing you as you adjust to his size.

It takes you a bit for the pain to completely fade into pleasure as he sits in you as far as he can go. When you’re finally ready for him to move again you nod, and Shanks begins to move. His pace is slow and you feel every inch of him drag in and out of you.

“Fuck baby you’re so tight.” His head is pressed against your shoulder as he uses all of his self control to go slow with you.

“I just think-“ You cut yourself off with a moan as he bottoms out again. “That you’re just fucking big.”

Shanks laughs. “Two things can be true.”

You can’t stop the smile that comes over your face. His sense of humor was infectious like that. Your laughs turn into a moan as he picks up the pace, and you can’t help but feel like you’re being split in half. Your fingers dig into his shoulders as he pulls you in for more deep kisses.

The slow build of your orgasm comes creeping up on you, your walls clenching around Shanks. You know he feels it because he stops kissing you to let out a deep groan as his thrusts stutter. It doesn’t take him long to recover though and when he trusts into you again it’s faster and deeper than before. His hand comes down between the two of you and his skilled fingers work your clit while he whispers in your ear.

“Need you to cum on my cock baby. Want you to remember this every time you work. Can you do that? Cum all over this table for me baby?” His filthy words and fast movements send you spiraling and it’s not long before you’re cuming with a scream.

Shanks isn’t too far behind you. “Where-“

You don’t need him to finish his sentence and you use the remaining strength in your legs to lock his hips to yours. He cums deep inside you with a shudder and you’ve never felt so full.

The two of you sit there intertwined as you both come down from your orgasms, heavy breaths the only noise in the room. When he finally pulls out you can feel his cum begin to leak out of you and you have to admit you love the feeling.

“I’ll be right back.” Shanks kisses your forehead as he walks away for a moment but comes back with a damp rag to clean you and the table up.

“So.” You link your arms around his neck. “I think you might have to carry me back to your ship.”

That lopsided grin is back on his face. “Baby if it were up to me I’d carry you everywhere.”

“So romantic.”

“Anything for the person I love.” He grabs your hand again, kissing your knuckles.

You know life will be hard with a partner who’s a notorious pirate, but you know your heart is his and you wouldn’t want it any other way.