#has a few moments sure but genuinely it's not that bad i promise!!

[ingo-ingoing-ingone]

Finally got this chapter out! Sorry it took a while, life has REALLY gotten in the way. The next chapter is almost completely done though too. But uh. Having massive wifi issues so I don't think it'll be out next weekend like I'd hoped :(

Hope this chapter is good though! The depot agents visit their beloved subway master.

Warnings include minor medical descriptions, ableism, and one line about Cloud's memory of Emmet's injuries.

Disclaimer in first reblog

[alchemistc]

Tommy has a bad date and goes to visit Abby at her loft, only shocker, Abby left months ago and The Himbo is staring at him from the other side of the door.

He tips his chin. Raises an eyebrow. Scans down, back up, just in time to meet the kids eyes.

"U - uh hi?"

He gets it immediately. What would have drawn Abby in despite the age difference, despite the knowledge that all her friends and family were gonna give her shit, despite -

Well. He's fucking adorable, for a start. Bright bright blues eyes that look like maybe they're always a little wet, the foundation for a really great muscle base, even though he clearly hasn't figured out how to balance cardio and weight lifting, pink full lips, an adorably puppy-dog slash to his face, legs for fucking days. God. Yeah okay. Tommy'd been younger than Abby too but not this young.

"Is Abby home?"

Something strange crosses his face. Confusion, upset, maybe some genuine pain. He shakes his head, opens his mouth. Snaps it shut. Tommy's had a shitty night and honestly for a second he thinks making the look on this kids face go away for a few minutes would fix him.

"Patricia?" Tommy asks, because maybe at least Pat will be lucid enough to sit and with him and mope to the tune of whatever's on Hallmark.

The kid swallows, brows knitting together. "She uh. She passed. A - a few months ago now."

Tommy has to dig his nails into his palms to keep himself from being rude as hell. Sure, things with Abby hadn't ended great but Christ he'd loved Patricia. She could have at least sent him a fucking pigeon. Smoke signals. Something. It's not this kids fault though.

"And Abby ...?"

This kid doesn't know him from Adam. He'd have every right to kick Tommy off the welcome mat and shut the door. Something sad and vulnerable crosses his face. "Are you Tommy?"

Tommy's brow jumps. His posture shifts. "Cross my heart I'm not here to steal her back from you." He doesn't know what Abby's told people. He'd promised he wouldn't do what he'd done to her to another person and left it at that. They'd been together for years and Tommy honestly doesn't know if she'd go the bitter route and tell everyone, or if she'd be ashamed and hide it.

The kid laughs, watches Tommy's fingers make an x over his left pec. The face falls after a moment. "I - uh - I actually don't think she's coming back," he says, choked up just a bit, rising inflection on the end of his sentence. The wet eyes look a little watery now. "S -she went to find herself after her mom died and I don't think - I don't think I'm gonna be a part of whatever she finds."

Yeah. Fixing him will definitely make Tommy forget how terrible his date with Frank had been.

"Can I buy you a drink, kid?"

He blinks. Swallows. Does a piss poor job of hiding the way he's feeling, and Tommy wishes he remembered how to be so open. "Evan. Buck. I - Evan Buckley."

Tommy nods. Grins. "Kind of a mouthful. You mind if I just call you Evan?"

Something passes across his face. He takes a step back. "Uh - if you're serious, I would - that'd be - I just have to grab my wallet?"

Tommy shrugs. He'd offered to pay, but it's entirely possible he still gets carded at bars. "I've got time."

Evan opens the door wider. Gestures him in. Tommy passes the threshold and takes in the space. It looks fucking exactly the same. Evan hasn't made a mark on this place at all.

Tommy's got no room to resent Abby, but if he did...

Evan reappears in record time. He's changed his shirt.

Tommy is absolutely not going to read into that.

"You like craft beer, Evan?"

Evan pulls a face, and Tommy laughs, letting himself be ushered right back out the door. His keyring, Tommy notices, only has a house key and a car key.

Tommy slaps him on the back. "Fine, I won't subject you to my refined palette. I know a place that has a PB&J special."

Evan's stride is fucking ridiculous, as he keeps an easy pace with Tommy down the hall. He turns his face, his body, fully into the space Tommy occupies. Tommy's just waiting for him to trip over his own goddamn legs. "W-what uh - what's a PB&J?"

He already looks brighter than he had five minutes ago.

If Tommy were a shittier person, he'd spend the night trying to to get straight into his pants.

"Pabst and a shot of Jameson?"

He blinks. "Oh. Hey, that's clever. Sorry, when I bartended all the drinks were either in Spanish or some hokey touristy lingo. I mean I memorized like a thousand drinks but no one ever ordered them."

He's honest to god pouting as he says it. Tommy wants to bite that bottom lip.

He babbles all the way down the elevator, across the parking garage to Tommy's truck. Doesn't even pretend to make a fuss about driving separately. Tommy's a virtual fucking stranger and Evan just hops right in the passenger side and asks him about his license plate.

"No shit? I'm at the 118!" Evan says, and Tommy forces himself not to make the joke about stranger danger he'd been planning. That's an awful coincidence, unless it's not. Maybe a few drinks in he'll feel a little less tight lipped about the Abby of it all. Maybe this kid will do just as good a job of patching Tommy's night as Tommy plans to patch his.

He barely stops to breathe the short drive to the bar, and Tommy can already tell he's in way over his fucking head.

After he drops him off, tucks him into bed if he needs it, he's pretty sure he's gonna have some choice words for Abby.

Until then, he's gonna spend the next few hours doing everything he possibly can to keep the sad look off his face.

[taeyongdoyoung]

summary: your best friend brags complains that he can't get laid due to his huge dick posing a threat to random girls at parties, so you offer to fix his little big problem pairing: soobin x reader genre: smut, best friends to lovers warnings: explicit language, big dick soobin (canon event), size kink, foreplay, eating out, blowjob, hugging, fingering, size training, creampie, consensual intercourse, kissing, aftercare, allusions to death in a sexual context, lowkey possessive soobin at the end author's note: the killa is on my mind 24/7 and im down bad for soobin 25/8 🥵 so i had to get it out of my system somehow 🤷 word count: 2k

“You’re kidding, right?” you ask your best friend when he makes a rather shocking confession as the two of you are sitting in his bedroom after one of your usual anime marathons.

“I wish I was. But I would never lie to you,” Soobin responds truthfully. His big moist eyes look a 100% genuine but it still sounds so...bizarre.

“Let me get this straight…Every time you try to hook up with a girl at one of those parties Yeonjun keep dragging you to, you go to a room, eat them out like the generous, selfless guy you are, and then after you take off your pants, they get scared by your gigantic cock and refuse to have sex, running away in horror?”

“That’s exactly what I’ve been trying to explain for the past 10 minutes, yeah,” Soobin confirms with a very adorable pout on his stupid face.

You shake your head in utter disbelief.

“I’m sorry but this is just ridiculous. Any girl would be happy to hook up with a guy that has a huge dick.”

“Well, I guess not any girl ‘cause this shit has happened three times already and I’m at my limit. Why can’t I just get laid?” Soobin bemoans his tragic destiny.

“No, I don’t get it. The least they could do is give you a quickie or something to return the favour. It’s so rude to just sprint away. I can’t believe your cock is that terrifying.”

“Ugh, please stop saying that. It’s so embarrassing,” Soobin covers his face behind his big hands. Hold on a minute…

“If what you’re saying is true, then I think it’s pretty hot. Those girls are surely missing out.”

“Or maybe they’re just looking after themselves. Like…I’m not mad at them for being spooked out, I just wish I could finally get some, you know?” Soobin sighs.

“Death by dick does seem appealing,” you shrug.

“Y/N!” he exclaims.

“Listen, what if I make you an offer? You prove to me that you weren’t exaggerating about your size and I promise I won’t run away and will take care of your…frustrations.”

“Are you seriously suggesting this?” Soobin freaks out. “This could ruin our friendship.”

“I won’t be weird about it, I swear. What do you say?”

“Fuck it. I’m so horny that this actually sounds like a good idea,” Soobin admits. “Can I eat you out first?”

“Erm, if you insist,” you reply, suddenly feeling nervous.

“I just wanna take care of you, make sure you’re all nice and wet for me,” Soobin explains patiently.

“You really don’t have to,” you reassure him.

“I know but it’d be awkward for me to just whip it out. Please?”

“Oh…okay,” you really can’t imagine saying no when he’s asking you so sweetly. God, what did you get yourself into?

Soobin takes off your leggings and panties in one swift movement and pushes you down gently on the bed so you are in a lying position. He spreads your thighs apart and looks at your pussy, already glistening with wetness caused by the conversation you’ve been having. Soobin smirks but doesn’t say anything about it. You’re grateful for that as he dives in, licking and kissing all over you. Fucking hell, if his tongue is capable of making you feel this way, you are slightly unnerved to find out what his cock can achieve. But unlike those girls at the parties, you are determined to never run away from your best friend.

Soon enough, you reach your high, overwhelmed by Soobin’s insane tongue movements and his big hands gripping your thighs. You need a few moments to gather your thoughts and when you are finally able to speak, those are the first words that leave your mouth:

“I think they fleed because you eat pussy like a starved animal. Seriously, what the hell was that?”

Soobin chuckles nervously and runs his fingers through his black hair, pushing it back and exposing his forehead for a bit.

“Trust me, it’s not that.”

“Prove it,” you challenge him even though you are fairly certain he’s telling the truth. Your best friend has never lied to you, so why start now?

Soobin takes off his pants, his hands are shaking and you immediately feel bad. You put your hand on his in an attempt to calm him down.

“Hey, you don’t have to if you feel uncomfortable.”

“I do want this, but after so many failed attempts, I’m so anxious…”

“I’m not going anywhere, Soobin,” you insist and squeeze his hand reassuringly.

His skin complexion looks slightly less pale and your words seem to give him the confidence he so desperately needs. Moment of truth. Soobin takes off his boxers and…Oh damn, he was not exaggerating. He’s not just big, he’s so huge a part of you wonders how is it humanly possible to carry such a weapon around and maintain the gentle, humble composure with which Soobin carries himself.

“You’re not running yet,” he jokes.

“Soob?”

“Y-yeah?” his voice cracks, he is obviously terrified of what you’re going to say.

“I’m not gonna lie to you, I finally get why these girls ran away.”

“Oh,” he sounds a little dejected, as if already expecting you to go back on your offer.

“But! That’s not gonna stop me. Just tell me what you want first and I’ll try my best to make you happy.”

“Huh?” Soobin is too flustered to process your words.

“My hands, my mouth, or my pussy, what do you want first?”

“You mean…you’re willing to give me all of them?” he blinks in shock.

This poor, precious boy. Did he really face disappointment so many times that he is now looking a gift horse in the mouth with such uncertainty?

“Just pick, Soobie, I promise I’ll give you anything you need.”

“Um…can you suck me off? Please?”

Gosh, he’s so adorable you want to eat him.

You nod a little too enthusiastically and go down on your knees, taking as much of his cock as you can. It’s a tight fit but what you can’t put inside your mouth you make up for by wrapping your hands around him. You suck and lick and touch him, eager to give him as much pleasure as he did you. Your beloved best friend has obviously been frustrated for a while now because it doesn’t take him long to cum inside your mouth. There is so much you can’t manage to swallow it all despite your valiant efforts and you see some of it falling down your cheeks. You wipe it off with a finger, sticking it into your mouth, grinning widely at Soobin.

“Fuck, you’re incredible. What…how…are you okay?”

He presses his big palm against your cheek and it takes a lot of self-control for you to not melt right there and then.

“I’m great. Did…did it feel good for you?” you ask sheepishly.

You’re not particularly confident about your skills but you genuinely did your best for him.

“Are you crazy? It felt insanely good,” Soobin takes your hand, lifting you up and wrapping his arms around you in a hug.

“I’m glad,” you respond, feeling safer and warmer than ever before in your life.

“Do…you still want to…you know?” Soobin asks.

“If you’re asking whether you can put your cock inside my pussy, then yeah, go for it. As long as it’s something you want, of course.”

You keep reminding him to only do things he’s completely okay with, because you would hate to put your best friend in a situation he doesn’t enjoy just because of your greed.

“I want you so bad, you have no idea. But I think I’ll need to stretch you out a bit, yeah?”

“O-okay,” you quickly agree and in no time, Soobin’s long fingers are inside of your pussy, going deeper than your own have ever been and making you feel things you never even dreamed about.

“How does it feel?” Soobin asks in concern.

“Heavenly,” you admit and just as you’re about to reach your second orgasm, Soobin’s fingers leave you.

“N-no, why’d you do that?” you whine frustratedly.

“Wanna feel you come around my cock.”

As it turns out, you'd like this just as much so you quickly forgive him for ruining your orgasm.

“I think I have a condom in my-“ Soobin starts but you cut him off.

“I’m taking a pill. And I believe we’re both clean, so…”

“You gon’ let me fuck you raw?” Soobin inquires, not wanting to make assumptions.

“Yeah, I trust you,” you reply with conviction.

“You’re a dream,” Soobin chuckles and nudges the head of his cock against your moist entrance. You brace yourself for some level of discomfort and are surprised that it doesn’t come right away. Soobin takes his sweet time getting inside you, making sure you’re okay.

“Fuck, Soob, you're so big,” you moan, already feeling overstimulated.

“This is just the tip, baby,” he explains shyly, which makes you lose your mind.

Soobin goes deeper very slowly, making you feel every inch, stretching you out bit by bit.

“How much more?” you ask somewhat impatiently.

“Just a little bit. Can’t help it that your pussy is so tiny,” he teases you.

“Not my fault your dick is so gigantic,” you bite right back.

“I promise, I'll try my best not to split you in half,” Soobin jokes, which does little to ease your worries, but at the same time only makes you wetter.

“Keep talking to me,” you plead for him.

“Does it hurt?” he wants to know, as he keeps entering you further.

“It’s a good kind of hurt,” you explain, wincing slightly.

Once you’ve gotten used to it, you signal to Soobin that he can start moving and he does just that, fucking into you with an impressive speed. You try to meet him halfway, lifting your hips up for him, melting into one.

“You’re taking it so well, my darling best friend,” Soobin praises you relentlessly.

“Anything for you, Soobie,” you cry out in sweet bliss.

“I’m close,” Soobin confesses soon enough.

“Fill me up,” you beg him, almost in a daze, deeply affected by his overpowering presence.

He doesn’t need to be asked twice and spills his seed inside of you. It feels so good that you cum with him, walls clenching around his enormous dick. Soobin leans down to kiss you, further blurring the lines between friendship and…whatever this is.

Then, he takes his cock out and you realize something far more terrifying than his intimidating size - you are falling in love with your best friend.

Soobin quickly brings a towel and a bottle of water, taking care of you like no one else before. You want to cry, touched by his sweetness and falling even further.

“How do you feel?” Soobin brushes a piece of hair behind your ear.

“I feel…like I'm on another planet,” you confess shakily.

Soobin chuckles, visibly relieved to hear that.

“You’re so cute,” he murmurs, enveloping you in a hug. His large frame towers over you and if it was anyone else, you’d probably feel slightly threatened. But this is Soobin, and even though he just fucked your brains out, you feel completely safe and protected. Safe enough to be honest about how you feel.

“I know I promised not to be weird about it but…I don’t think I can go back to being friends.”

Soobin pales for a moment, scared of losing you.

“Why not?” he blinks, barely restraining his tears.

“I wanna belong to you,” you try to ease his worries by openly saying what your heart and soul desire.

“Oh…But baby, you already do,” Soobin suddenly beams with excitement. “And I belong to you, too.”

“I think you killed me a little,” you laugh. “Killed my pussy with your big cock and ruined me for other men.”

Soobin raises an eyebrow.

“Bold of you to assume that I’d let other men near your pussy. You’re all mine now.”

The End

[yesimwriting]

Normalcy

A/n deadpool and wolverine drabble bc the movie was a little too good

Summary: Still reeling from the loss of your powers, you struggle to hold it together inside the TVA's void. Thankfully, you find an uncharacteristically peaceful distraction in your old friend Deadpool and in the wolverine variant who wants nothing to do with you.

Warnings/info: reader is a (former) avenger (bc i love the avengers <3), reader is described as having similar powers to wanda and having trained with her (bc i love wanda), implied beginning of an accidental love triangle if you squint ig, maybe too much lore for a drabble (?), me writing for characters for the first time so be nice 😭

----

The lines etched into your palms do not bend and twist to spell out secrets, there are no messages worth decoding pressed into your skin. Knowing this is not enough to stop you from staring at your hands like if you could just think about it hard enough...

"There you are, Peanut." The words are so warm you're briefly pulled out of your internal angst. You straighten, head lifting slightly and arms crossing in front of your chest. "Thought I lost you."

Wade continues forward until he's directly in front of you. He pauses, watching you with an unabashed openness that you'd only ever allow him to get away with. "Kidding," he tries, "I'd never lose you."

The familiarity of the casual affection eases you further, the corner of your mouth tugging itself upwards. "I was like 15 feet away from you."

"Sorry for caring." It's his go to comeback when it comes to defending the displays of affection you have the audacity to find overdramatic.

You blink, lips parting despite your lack of response. The world has felt a little slower these last few days, moving at a pace that leaves you with no choice but to reflect. Maybe it's the void.

"Hey," his voice feels a little flatter without his usual humor, "Are you okay?"

You let out a breath, shocked by this new low. Sure, you've known Wade for awhile and you've both seen each other through plenty of stages, but he's never felt the need to attempt a genuine pep talk for you. He's never struck you as the pep talk sort...for anyone. Do you really seem that off?

It's bad enough that your identity crisis has stolen the abilities that would have helped your trio pop out of the void with no real fanfare, you can't also make your insecurities everyone else's problem. "Yeah." The response doesn't feel convincing, but with Wade wearing the Deadpool mask, it's hard to be sure. "Just y'know...we're in a void and our reality might be ripped apart, so I've been better."

He's still watching you with a level of focus that's unnerving. You've gotten used to his familiarity, his lack of care for personal space or the social rules around watching people. "You're doing it again."

"Seducing you with my ability to have a heart to heart while looking this good in my suit?"

You sigh in an attempt to dismiss your slight smile. Happy or sad, superhero that once fought Thanos or regular person that can't regulate their emotions, Wade always treats you the same. "The staring thing. You said you'd stop."

"No, you said I'd stop." The correction is a return to what you're used to. He takes a step towards you, his proximity now forcing you to tilt your chin up slightly to look him in the eye. "I'd never promise to look at you less."

"Comforting."

He angles his chin downwards, making the limited distance feel more significant. "I thought so." For a moment, he's quiet in a way that doesn't feel very him. "Are you sure you're...good?" His hesitance is another reminder that this is far out of his element. "I know this is your first..." Wade's rarely careful, only ever treading lightly on the one subject you never want to bring. "Outing, since..."

"I lost my powers."

Wade goes quiet again. If this conversation is as inevitable as it seems, a part of you wishes it could have come up elsewhere. Maybe in your shared apartment, definitely without the mask so you could better interpret his reactions. It's not often you keep secrets from him, but the hollowness you feel knowing the part of yourself you've lost isn't something you can just share.

It's more than just about missing your party tricks, it's about losing a part of yourself. They were all that was left of your time with the Avengers, of what Wanda taught you before Westview.

He lets out a breath. "They're not lost." You raise your eyebrows slightly, giving him a look meant to caution him against sympathetic optimism. "We don't know that."

He seems so happy to be able to tell you that there's no proof that any and all magical abilities have been flushed out of your system, you don't have it in you to remind him that that's mainly because you have no one to ask. What's left of the Avengers and your government connections either barely understand what you were or are untrustworthy.

"Educated wish?"

His mask muffles a slight gasp. You press your lips together in an attempt to resist smiling. "The last one worked out great."

Your eyebrows pull together skeptically, a reminder that the two of you are still technically in the middle of the last educated wish he attempted to speak into existence. "Didn't Wolverine stab you multiple times--"

He cuts you off with a heavy sigh. "If I took getting stabbed personally, do you know where we'd be?"

In a reality where Wade holds grudges over those kinds of things, you wouldn't be anything to each other, except maybe enemies. You've never pulled a knife or sword or anything sharp on him, but when you first met he did startle you before you had a total grip on your abilities, which resulted in him getting thrown through a wall.

"I never stabbed you."

His hand finds your shoulder. You let him drag his thumb against against the fabric of your suit. "And that's how I know you really love me, Peanut."

You roll your eyes in an attempt to dislodge the warmth that settles in the pit of your stomach. The last thing Wade needs is encouragement. "I mean, I do go around stabbing everyone I like less than you."

He lets out a sound that feels like a scoff attempting to mask itself as a dry laugh. "There's the sense of humor that'd hurt me if I knew you less."

"Well--"

He squeezes your shoulder, "I know you." Okay. You'll let him have this one because maybe there's some truth to what he's saying. "I'm going to go check on the car, because a fucking Honda Odyssey would break down on us for no reason before we got to the fight."

"For no reason or because of the bitch fight you and Wolverine had in it?"

There's a beat of silence in which all you can do is try to imagine Wade's expression behind the mask. You'd like to think that he's smiling. "Oh, Pumpkin." He sighs as if you've stumbled onto saying something terribly naive. "It wasn't a bitch fight, it was awesome, and probably turned you on."

You deadpan a flat, "You caught me." He hasn't let go of your shoulder, and a part of you is oddly glad for it. "I'd offer you help with the car, but..."

You're self aware enough to acknowledge your strengths and weaknesses, car maintenance being the latter. Wade doesn't even let you get your oil changed by yourself anymore.

"I've met you." He squeezes your shoulder again, the gesture weirdly stabilizing. "Give me 15 minutes to actually look at the car and then I'm all yours."

Wade lets go of you, his arm falling to his side. "Aren't you always?"

He lets out an exaggerated gasp. "You're making me feel cheaper than my usual rate, Peanut."

You smile as he turns away. Things are always a little easier with Wade. It's more than just distraction, it's his way of making things feel a little lighter. You're not sure what to do with your 15 minutes of solitude to avoid falling back into self pity.

You originally broke away from the group of void trapped heroes under the premise of needing fresh air, but even here, with the expansive, sparsely wooded area at your disposal, the oxygen in your lungs still feels flat. If Wanda were around, you'd be able to ask if she felt the strangeness of this other plane of existence as well. At least then you'd know if your dislike of the void is only mental or an actual sign of life from your abilities.

You begin to walk forward, hoping to shed all thoughts of both your former self and the eeriness of this other world. There are other people you could talk to you. The others have been polite enough, or at the very least, passionate enough to be talked into facing Cassandra.

The trees you've been wandering through grow in their sparsity, the edge of the woods revealing a patch of grassland highlighted by a fire's warm glow. You squint past the tree line, attempting to make out the figure sitting in front of the flames. Wolverine.

Secluded from the group and staring at a campfire. Surprising. Though, you guess it's not fair to judge him too harshly, you left the group to brood as well.

He doesn't like you, doesn't know you well enough to dislike you, but it took him no time to find a way to get around that. Maybe it's your proximity to Wade. You've done your best to take his hostility as un-personally as possible. You've seen enough people you really care about go through the guilt ridden, fallen hero thing to know how deep that kind of hurt runs.

You've never known a Wolverine or Logan Howlett variant, so you have no way of knowing what he was like before. Sure, you've heard stories, but you're also overly aware of how the media can twist and turn those stories to fit their narrative. One day, a superhero is the world's greatest protector, and the next their the greatest menace. Maybe he was always a little dark, or maybe he wasn't.

"Don't just stand there." The gruffness of his voice startles you more than it should.

Heat crawls up your neck, a part of you more embarrassed than you should be. You weren't lurking, or at the very least, you weren't trying to.

You sigh as you abandon the safety of the tree line. "Sorry." He turns his head away from the fire. "I wasn't--I was just walking."

He's quiet for such a long moment you almost expect him to not respond at all. "Without your shadow?"

Wow, only a halfhearted dig at Wade. You must have caught him in a good mood. "Friend, and he's looking at the car. I'd be looking at the car with him, but I figured the odds for tomorrow are bad enough as is."

Another uneasy stretch of silence. "Yeah." There's not much, if anything, to take from the comment. "If you're here to convince me to go with you guys tomorrow--"

"I'm not." It's an honest answer. You had been walking around aimlessly and happened to stumble onto him. "I'm not into the pep talk thing." He scoffs, the sound lacking in genuine aggression. "What?"

He lifts his gaze from the fire, his eyes settling on some point past the horizon. "I thought you were an Avenger."

You're not sure what bugs you more, the fact that he's so sure he has you all figured out or the implication that the Avengers spend their days encouraging each other instead of actually doing things. What the Avengers are--or maybe were--is so much more than that.

You step forward, further separating you from the cluster of trees. "The Avengers are about a lot more than that."

His attention briefly shifts onto you before returning to the flames. If the silence is meant to be dismissive, it doesn't feel that way. There's a patience there that doesn't suit his usual brooding.

"Do you care if I sit?" The question is forced out before you can overthink it. "I promise no inspirational speeches or small talk."

After a beat, he dips his chin downwards in a nod so subtle you would have missed it if you had been watching him any less carefully. You're more relieved by his acceptance than you should be, your feet carrying you towards the campfire.

You sit at a polite distance, knees bent in front of you. His silence seems to push against the void's sluggishness. Maybe the issue has been you fighting this world's momentum.

"Why are you with him?" You're not sure if you're more shocked by the question or the break in silence. When all you can do is blink, he continues, "You seem--" He subtly clears his throat, as if struggling to admit this next part, "Nice, normal."

Oh. If you had been focused, you likely would have got what he meant without the clarification. "I know Wade's a lot--especially to you." You place a hand against your knee, thinking about that very specific safety you only feel with Wade. You don't have to try at being anything, or worry about earning your keep in any capacity. "But once you get to know him, he's a good friend."

You look away from the fire pit in time to see the skeptical look Logan throws in your direction. "I'm serious." His expression doesn't change. "He um--after I stopped being important to everyone else, he still liked me ." This isn't the conversation you wanted to stumble onto, especially not with someone who you barely know and actively dislikes you. "That sounds kind of dumb, but the point is, he's loyal."

He turns his head back towards the fire. "You always call him by his name." The observation is so stiff you'd consider it hesitant if it came from anyone else.

You've never thought much about Wade's name. Part of it is familiarity, and the rest of it is a force of habit. Even when you were with the Avengers, you preferred using actual names when off duty. It's easier to separate the mask from the person beneath it when you make an active effort to.

You shrug. "I'm not into off duty superhero names, Wolverine."

He falls silent again. You concentrate on the flames, the way they illuminate the world around you. "You can--" He cuts himself off, attention never wavering from the fire. "You can call me Logan, if you want."

An unsteady warmth roots itself in your chest. You didn't expect any sort of kinship between you and the wolverine Wade stole from some other timeline beyond him occasionally accepting your attempts at creating peace between him and Wade.

"Okay," you focus on keeping your tone measured, avoiding any emotions that might startle him, "Logan."

There's no tension in the quiet that follows. You let the minutes pass until you're certain that Wade's waiting for an interruption disguised as an attempt to help. "I should go, Wade's probably waiting for me."

You push yourself to stand. You let yourself glance at him one last time before turning towards the trees you emerged from.

[helslastangel]

I'm back bxtches

Random Observations #9

Y'all still need the disclaimer or will reason prevail?

🦂 Scorpio Mars are POWERHOUSES in my not-so-humble opinion. If you are prone to procrastination, especially in your career or as an entrepreneur, Aries Mars might hype you up but a Scorpio Mars (esp in 10H) is gonna make damn sure you finish your to-do list.

I had a friend with this placement and she literally bribed me with weed to come to her house, then she took my phone and house keys and made me sit and finish designing my business cards and send them to Vistaprint before she'd give my damn keys back. Made over $5K USD from my next few clients though so I wasn't even mad about it lol

🦀 I don't care what the astrology girls like to say - my observations of Cancer moons is that they are FORGIVING AF. Like it takes a lot for a Cancer moon to be really done with you and chances are you're more wrong than they are.

Cancer moons come off as manipulative to a lot of people. But when you actually dig below the surface, you'll notice this common thread where people who aren't good at seeing other people's points of view unless they need something immediately project that attitude onto people who genuinely give a shit.

Obviously there are evil Cancer moons and they're extra terrifying for the above reason, but they're the minority and the slander is unnecessary imo. The people who have literally put up with my WORST behavior the longest and genuinely dropped it after a good open conversation were all Cancer moons.

👬 Which leads me to another interesting astro trope I'd like to kick over right about now. Gemini moons. Love them but in my experience they are usually what people think Cancer moons are. Gemini moons, from my observation, don't soak up as much, if any, of other peoples' energies. They're gonna keep it moving emotionally regardless of how you wanna be in the moment. That means they can easily smile with you for years if that's the path of least resistance, but that does NOT mean they particularly like, care about or think highly of you at all. They MIGHT, but you will NOT know unless they want you to know or you somehow trigger them enough to rip the black tape off the redacted parts of their mental file on you.

If you're someone who is used to everything being totally transparent and straightforward, you're in for a wild ride with a Gemini moon in your life. I've had quite a few as friends or coworkers, etc., and I promise without fail there always came the day where I ended up wiping tears of laughter from my eyes, feet up on my desk, twiddling my thumbs listening to the 11-minute voice note from the latest Gemini moon in my life. Pretty much telling me in no uncertain terms exactly what they thought of me, where I should go, why, and how happy they would be to direct me there personally.

As a Capricorn moon, I never have the kind of reaction they'd like to this but it's always interesting to see the abrupt change as they can literally seem perfectly cool 3 minutes before the other twin takes over. I don't even think it's a good or bad thing, just how it goes.

Cancer moons seem this way but chances are you chose to ignore the VERY OBVIOUS SIGNS THAT SOMETHING (probably everything) was wrong, lol. Cancer moons can't hide their feelings for shit (reason #101 why I love them; it's easier for me to fix a problem if i can quickly see there is one 😂).

🦁 Let's change tracks and talk about Leo mercuries for a minute. Y'all get your inside and outside voices mixed up a LOT, lol. Every Leo mercury I know had trouble speaking quietly in quiet-appropriate situations but then catch them outside trying to get their friends attention at the other side of the street and suddenly it's like Tom got their tongue and tossed it to Jerry. Can barely get a sound out. Why is that? I know it wouldn't be all Leo mercuries but for those who experience this, please tell me what it is, I'm genuinely curious lol. As a Libra mercury I kinda have a similar problem. On another note, I've noticed that Leo mercuries can be highly persuasive people even if solely because of the amount of power and confidence they put behind the things they say.

My ex-husband has Leo Mercury at 24° (Pisces degree) and I promise you that man could make you believe anything against your will 😂 One time he was trying to get out of having to go to a friend's event and rather than just decline like a normal person, he crafted this masterpiece of an excuse that somehow involved me needing his attention (I had been on the couch under his arm half the day so no lol) but the way he spoke on the phone?

I swear to God even I caught myself nodding along all like "yeah, yes I did feel a bit neglected today and wanted more time with babe"... 😂😂😂 like NO TF I DID NOT FEEL NEGLECTED AT ALL but I got second-hand convinced lol. And yes he was loud when I or his friends were 12 inches away but couldn't raise his voice for shit to order through the drive-thru at McDonald's lol it was cute, though, I'd do the yelling into the intercom thing 😂

🐟 Lemme say this about Pisces suns - you are very underrated, from my observations. I've noticed Pisces suns in particular struggle with one of two major issues when it comes to others' perceptions of them - either people seem compelled to minimize/infantilize their contributions and achievements, or people fail to notice they exist altogether (or forget about them easily). I've always held my Pisces sun friends close for as long as I could and hyped them up because nearly every Pisces sun I've met has been incredibly talented and usually creative in some way. I'm talking genius levels of ability in some area that goes completely overlooked or undervalued by the majority of people in their circles.

These are the people who you vaguely notice as the cool server, hot bartender, friendly delivery guy, helpful sales associate, only for you to run into them somewhere else and you find out they run a whole personal training business or play 6 instruments perfectly and give lessons to kids, or taught themselves professional photography and have a camera in their bedroom worth more than your savings account. I've met so many Pisces suns who seemed to be one way and then there were so many layers to them that it was like reading an interactive novel.

That's what was on my mind for now, drop your favorite placement from your own chart in the comments, I'll compile them for random observations #10 😘

[lupinsweater]

Teacher!James Potter x Single Mom!Reader 💌 1.3k words

thank you to @moonpascal to beta reading for me!

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

You hated running late to things.

It wasn’t your fault this time- Charlie’s sitter had been a few minutes late, and then he had thrown a tantrum about you going to his school without bringing him along. You tried explaining over and over that it was just a boring meeting for grown-ups- no fun, no snacks, and nothing he'd enjoy- but Charlie wasn't having it. Eventually, the sitter lured him away with the promise of cartoons, and you finally slipped out the door, already running five minutes behind. Cursing to yourself as you started your car, you did your best to avoid breaking any traffic laws as you hustled to the school. You made it there in record time, parking your car and running into the building. You weren’t sure what to expect from parent-teacher night, but Charlie has been talking about his teacher, Mr. Potter, non-stop since school started.

You were grateful for the signs as you navigated down the hall and into your son’s classroom. There was a small table outside the door with some empty name tag sticker sheets- one sticker was left, and Charlie’s name was written on it. You grabbed it and stuck it onto the front of your shirt, then nervously smoothed out your shorts, mentally slapping yourself for not putting on something a little nicer. You slipped through the cracked classroom door, trying to avoid drawing attention to yourself.

The other parents were seated at the tiny desks, chatting amongst themselves. At the front of the room, a tall, broad-shouldered man was laughing with a couple of parents. His dark curls were slightly messy, like he’d run his hands through them a few times too many. He wore a light blue shirt, the sleeves casually rolled up to his elbows in a way that showed off his surprisingly muscular arms, and he was gesturing animatedly as he talked. He must be Charlie’s teacher.

“Ah! Mrs. Y/L/N, right?”

The moment you heard his voice, your heart skipped a beat. He was looking right at you, his smile wide and genuine. You weren’t expecting to be called out like this, especially not in front of a room full of people. He made his way over to you, his eyes lighting up as if he was greeting an old friend.

“You must be Charlie’s mom!” he said, his voice full of energy. “I’ve been hoping to meet you.”

For a second, you were thrown off by his friendliness. Most teachers you’d met were polite, sure, but there was something different about him. Something warmer.

“Yeah, that’s me,” you replied, chuckling awkwardly as you offer your hand. “And it’s just Ms, actually. No other parent.”

“Oh, sorry! James Potter,” he said, shaking your hand with a firm but friendly grip. His eyes lingered on yours for just a beat longer than you’d expected. “But you probably already know that from Charlie. I swear, the kids are better at introducing me than I am. They’ve got me pegged already, bad jokes and all.”

You laughed, feeling your shoulders relax a little. “Charlie hasn’t mentioned any bad jokes yet, so I think you’re safe.”

James grinned, flashing a playful look. “Good to know. I’ve got a reputation to protect, after all.” His tone was light and teasing, but there was an easy confidence in the way he talked. “I hope he’s told you at least one good thing about me. I’ve been trying to bribe them with extra recess, so my odds should be good.”

“He’s been pretty complimentary, actually. I don’t think you need the extra recess,” you said with a small smile, putting your hands in your pockets. His eyes followed your movements slightly, but they focused back on your face quickly.

“That’s a relief,” James said softly, smiling at you like you were sharing a secret. “Though, knowing Charlie, I’m sure he’s a tough critic. He’s one of those kids who doesn’t miss a thing.”

“That sounds about right,” you replied, smiling. “He knows me better than I know myself. And he’s always asking questions.”

James grinned. “Same here. He’s a curious one—loves to figure out how everything works. I love that about him. Honestly, kids like Charlie make teaching fun. It keeps me on my toes.” You smiled as he continued. “But listen, if he ever asks me to explain quantum physics, I’m sending him right back to you. That one’s above my pay grade.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “Don’t worry, I’m not even sure I could handle that one.”

“Good to know we’re on the same page.” He winked, and there was something about the way he did it that caught you off guard—like he’s flirting, but in a way that feels easy and unforced. “How are you holding up? I know kindergarten can be a big adjustment for parents, too,” James said suddenly.

You blinked, surprised by the question. You weren’t prepared for him to be asking about your wellbeing too. “I’m managing,” you said with a small smile. “Work’s been busy, so…”

“Tell me about it,” James interrupted seriously, feigning a winded look. “I swear, I’m late to my own classroom half the time. You should see me in the mornings—I’m running around like a headless chicken just trying to beat the bell.”

You laughed again, feeling more comfortable. “Really? I’d peg you as a guy who has it all put together.”

“Ha! If only,” he said, shaking his head with mock exasperation. “Trust me, it’s all smoke and mirrors. But hey, as long as I’ve had my coffee, I’m halfway there.”

The way he talked—so easy and natural—made you forget you were in a room full of other parents, some of whom were probably annoyed by your ongoing conversation. He wasn’t just making small talk; he was making you feel like you belonged there, like you weren’t just Charlie’s mother, but someone worth knowing.

“I get it,” you said with a sympathetic smile. “It’s hard enough being a single mother. I can’t imagine being in charge of that many five year olds, even if it’s only for part of the day.”

“Well, it sounds like you’re doing an amazing job,” James said, his voice softening, and suddenly, you realized how closely he was looking at you. You felt yourself blush as he said, “Charlie’s a special kid, and that’s all you.”

You weren’t used to compliments like that. Especially not from someone who was looking at you the way James was at that moment. “Thanks,” you managed, your voice a little quieter than before. “That means a lot.”

“Of course. And, hey, if you ever need an extra hand—or someone to vent to about the chaos of kindergarten life—you know where to find me,” James said with a lopsided smile. His tone was light, but there was something in his eyes that lingered, something that made you feel like he was genuinely offering more than just a teacher’s support.

You felt a flicker of something unfamiliar—something you hadn’t felt in a long time. Was he… interested? Or were you reading too much into this?

Before you could dwell on it, James clapped his hands together and turned to address the rest of the room. “Alright, folks! Let’s get this show on the road. I promise to keep it short, but if you’ve got any good stories to share, I’m all ears. I’m a sucker for a good tangent.”

The parents chuckled, and you found a seat, still feeling the warmth from your conversation with him. James was everything you had hoped he would be—open, friendly, funny. And the way he looked at you…you couldn’t shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, something in your life was about to change.

[artdcnaldson]

ugh "leverage" to ensure she won't go tattling to patrick. especially as he starts getting meaner and meaner, he tells her it's to make sure she doesn't back out and tell on him. because patrick would genuinely kill art if he knew what he's been doing to his baby sister.

i know it doesn't really fit in the canon of the other parts to this au, but hear me out anyway... what if he agreed to fuck her, properly this time, in her sweet little pussy. BUT he needs said leverage to make sure she keeps quiet about it (truly he just needs to immortalize taking her virginity so he can watch it back for the rest of his life). so he "agrees", he's the one to bring it up lol, on the condition that he can record it. y'know like really shitty, amateur, pov style, on her creaky dorm bed and pink, frilly sheets. shaky and grainy, but it's good enough for him. it's not like he would ever actually post it anywhere or show people, but she doesn't know that.

he gets off on how nervous she is when he points the camera at her, she's blushing and trying to hide her face. but he just slaps her cheek and manhandles her to look right down the lens of his shitty phone camera. tells her to moan louder around his big cock, tell the camera how good he feels, really just stroking his own ego. makes her tell the camera exactly how he's making her feel, can't cum unless she asks into the camera. he nearly cums right inside her when she tells him he's too big and it hurts :(((((

yummy yummy yummy

-🐞

OHHHHHHH <3 I had to let this simmer. This had to ruminate. Had to really let it sit and grow legs or whatever wine people say idk

RATING: E (18+)

Warnings: SMUT (p in v, degradation, making a sex tape, loss of virginity, world’s worst aftercare), mean!art as always, uncomfortable power dynamics, DUBCON due to coercion

He catches you leaving one of your classes, chatting happily with a few girls as you walk. Their eyes widen as he approaches, smacking his gum, looming tall over them. You murmur a quick apology and bound over like an obedient little pet, falling into stride beside him as he walks.

“What class is that?” He asks, nodding back towards the building. Most of the time he forgot you even attended the school beyond cheering at his games and floating around his dormitory like a ghost.

“Peoples and cultures,” you reply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “It’s an anthropology course I’m taking. It’s actually really interesting, like, these past few lectures have been—“

“What are you doing tonight?” He interrupts, not really caring beyond the simple answer to his question. He has a one track mind, and for the moment he’s just thinking about getting in your pants.

He watches you think, then shrug. “Um… nothing, I guess? Why?”

Art stops by a tree suddenly, tugs you by your wrist to stop with him. “Do you promise if we fuck you won’t tell Patrick?�� He watches as your eyes widen, as sheer need and excitement makes you practically vibrate out of your skin.

Frantically you nod. “I’d never tell Patrick, I’d take it to my grave, I swear,” you say, totally earnest, bouncing on the balls of your feet as he looks at you.

“God, I want you so bad,” he hums, brushing your hair back behind your ear. You melt beneath his touch, gaze all half-lidded and soft. “I just… I think I’d have to have some leverage, just to make sure no one ever finds out.”

You tilt your face, resting it on his hand, your eyes half-lidded and dazed with need. You hum a soft, “Mhmm,” without even knowing what he’s implying, what he’s asking of you. But he hears what you’re thinking, all dumbed down and needy— yes, Art, whatever you say Art, anything you want, Art.

He wants to do it in your room, that night. He walks you back to your dorm and tells you to get your roommate out, make sure she’s busy for however long you need. He’d text you when he’s on his way.

So you’re just… fucking vibrating with excitement, cleaning up your dorm, changing your sheets, fluffing your pillows. You light three warm vanilla sugar candles so the dorm smells nice and sweet, put on your roommate’s SEXXXMIXXX <3 CD that she had burned in High School (and kept your fingers crossed it was still relevant). You took the longest fucking shower of all time, scrubbed your skin until it stung, shaved you’re entire body, wondered if maybe he wouldn’t like bald pussy, then worried that he’d hate if you kept the hair even more. Moisturized, then put on pretty, light makeup— lipgloss, mascara. All in the span of time it took for him to text you.

Art :) <3

omw

You feel a little dizzy by the time he’s at your door, already wet just anticipating what you were about to do. He grins down at you, at your silky little pajama set, pink and lacy around the edges. Smacks his gum, trails his hand along the sides of your waist.

“Pretty.” He looks smug as he rubs the lace between his fingers. “You got all dressed up for me, huh?”

It’s amazing how timid and shy you can look as you stand in front of him, biting onto your lip as you nod. He shuts the door behind him and guides you backwards until you knock against your bed and laugh nervously. Jesus, he’d already fucked your ass, your throat, he’d done things to you that even the dirtiest fucking sluts on campus wouldn’t dream of allowing. But you’re all shy because he’s finally going to fuck you properly?

You gasp as he tugs down the neckline of your top, exposing your tits to the cool air of the dorm. So cute, soft. Your nipples already hard and sensitive, so just the lightest pinch makes you let out a pretty moan.

“Remember what I said about leverage?” Art says, and you nod slowly, dreamily. “I want to film it.”

Your eyes widen slightly, as you think back to the pictures he’d taken of you just a few weeks prior. “And you’d… what? Like post it if Pat finds out?”

“No, no, only if you tell,” he corrects. Even then… he doubted he’d actually ever post it anywhere. He had a tennis career to consider, after all. But the important thing was that you believe he will. “It’s just to make sure this stays our secret.”

You swallow, consider it. You didn’t plan on telling Patrick, so it was fine, right? He’d hate Art, and you didn’t want that. You would never want that, no matter what.

So you nod softly. “Okay,” you say finally. “I’d… yeah, I understand. Okay.”

God, you’re easy. So fucking easy it makes him a little sick to think about. What if he wasn’t Patrick’s friend, if he was some frat house asshole who would take advantage of how bad you wanted him? You’re so lucky he’s a good person.

He uses your own fucking digital camera— pink and decorated with little heart stickers. Turns it on and records you as you slip off your sweet silky pajamas, revealing soft, smooth skin beneath. You’re so shaky, so nervous. You can’t even look into the lens.

“No panties?” He asks, lips quirked into a grin. He steps forward to slip his hand between your thighs, to cup your pussy in one big hand. God, you’re so fucking wet, just like you usually are. He could just slide right in without any resistance, just bury himself right inside that tight little pussy. “Jesus, you’re a fucking mess, just dripping for it, aren’t you?”

You moan, relishing in the feeling of his hands on you. Art never touched you, not to get you off, at least. So the feeling of his thick calloused fingers against your cunt makes you whine. He breaches your entrance with just a fingertip and grins at the feeling of you clenching around the intrusion, desperate for anything he’ll give you.

But the relief is gone as soon as you’ve gotten it. He pats your thigh, nods to the bed. “Go lay down. Let me film you stretching yourself out for me.”

“Art,” you whine once you’ve laid down, embarrassed as he trains the lens on you. “Do you have to film this part?”

It just makes him double down, grinning smugly as he settles at the foot of the bed. “C’mon, just fucking do it. Show the camera how fucking wet you get for me.” You hear the whir of him zooming in as your hand slips between your thighs, as lithe fingers slide through your soaking wet folds and you tease your clit. He groans softly, grinning at the sight on the camera. “Alright, spread yourself out now. Show me how small and tight you are.”

You whimper pathetically, but obey. Your fingers form a V as you spread your lips, revealing the pretty, drippy hole of your cunt. He doesn’t even have to tell you to start fucking yourself, you just do. Pretty, manicured fingers disappearing inside the tight channel of your pussy, slow and easy as you pant and gasp sweetly.

“Can you do three?” He asks. He zooms the camera out, makes sure he gets all of you— your tits heaving with each breath, the slow grind of your hips to meet your fingers. You nod softly, press a third finger alongside the other two. He grins at the sight of the stretch of your cunt around them, how your body works to accommodate them. “God, it’s a tight stretch, huh?”

“Mhmm.” You moan as you pump your fingers slow, in and out. Wet to the point of it sounding obscene. Slick dripping out with each thrust, making your fingers glisten.

He can hardly take sitting there and watching, but god, he’d love it later on when he was alone with only the video to keep him company. But who knows? Maybe he’d fuck you once and never want anyone else. He already felt that way… kind of. You were so eager, so obsessed with him. You touched him like it was an act of worship. He couldn’t get that from easy pussy.

He sets the camera down on the foot of the bed while he undresses, tugging off his sweats and tee shirt, mussing up his hair in the process. It’s not lost on him, the way your fingers speed up at the sight of his cock, how needy and desperate you are.

“How bad do you want it?” He asks as he picks up the camera.

God, he’s mean. You whine when he grabs your wrist and makes you slip your fingers from inside of your cunt. Empty, needy, desperate. “Please, fuck me, Art.” You’re embarrassed, of course you are. He has a camera focused on your needy little expression, one hand on your thigh all warm and possessive. “Please, I’ve been so good for you. I’ve done everything you’ve asked. I just need you, I need you inside of me. Want you to be my first. Please, Art.”

He’s not sure where he wants the camera as he notches the head of his cock at your wet little hole. Part of him wants to film the second he buries his cock inside of that tight fucking cunt, but the other wants to film your face, watch how pretty you look as you take your very first cock.

And god, you’re trembling beneath him. Visibly shaking with anticipation, or nerves, or need. He runs a hand along your torso, cups one of your tits in his hands and thumbs over your sensitive nipple. “What, are you cold?” He teases.

“N-no,” you stammer, meeting his gaze. “Just— I just want it so bad.”

He films your face, which was the right call, he decides. He has to think about it technically, or he’ll risk blowing his load one pump in, like a total fucking loser. You’re so tight around him, clamping down on his cock as he sheaths himself within you, inch after inch. And god, that angelic face of yours— mouth agape, wet and pink and pretty, the tiniest furrow between your brows, lashes splayed against your cheeks as you moan, soft and sweet. “Hurts,” you practically whimper. “God, Art, fuck, it feels—“

He films where your cunt swallows him, stretched to the point of obscenity around his thick cock. It shouldn’t even be able to take him, not when you’re so small, so fucking tight. It’s a fucking miracle you’d even taken a toy before. He’d make you film that next. All desperate, fucking yourself on silicon while you drooled over a picture of him. It was sweet that you’d been trying to prepare yourself to take him and you were still a shaking, needy mess.

Tears well in your eyes as he thumbs at your swollen little clit, he feels your pussy clench around him, already so fucking keyed up. He should be good. He should make love to you, nice and slow, like a good boy. He’s starting to think he’s not a good boy, not at all. “Just lay there and take it, yeah? Just look nice and pretty for the camera.”

You cry out when he pulls back only to drive back in, hard and deep. His pace is relentless as he fucks into your cunt— warm and wet and tight and fucking perfect. He honestly shouldn’t have waited, he should’ve fucked you the first night you offered yourself up to him— sweet and needy and clinging off his shoulder like you were his girlfriend.

“A-Art, fuck—“ You cry out, fisting your pretty hands into the frilly duvet, as he bullies himself into you. “Oh, god, fuck, A-Art, it’s too much— I-I can’t—“ A strangled moan seems to rip itself from your throat as your head falls back against the pillows.

He grins. “Yeah? Don’t tell me, honey, tell the camera.”

You whine, turning your head away as embarrassment rips through you. It’s mean, keeping it trained on you while you’re so fucking vulnerable. He grabs your chin, holds it in place as he fucks into you, deeper, rougher. It punches out gasps from your pretty open mouth— Ah! Ah! Ah! Over and over and over.

He pops your cheek, not too hard, but enough to draw your attention back from him and away from your dizzying thoughts. “Tell the camera how good it feels to have my big cock in that little pussy of yours, yeah?

“It feels— ngh— I love it,” you have pretty fat tears slipping down your cheeks as he drills into you. “You’re so big, I— God, fuck— I feel you in my stomach. Here—“ You grab his hand, move it to press against the bottom of your stomach. He can’t feel anything, not except warm skin beneath his, but he groans at your words, at the implication that he’s so deep he’s in your fucking guts.

He has to bite his tongue so hard he tastes blood. He knows he’s going to cum, knows that he’s not going to last or show off epic, manly stamina and impress you. Not that you give a shit, but he wants to set a standard for whatever fucking loser you fuck next. He’d have next time, and as many other times as he wanted. You’d keep coming back for it, for him.

He struggles to manhandle you the way he needs while holding onto the camera. He tosses it into the sheets so he can press your knees up to your chest. “Hold them— yeah, that’s it, fuck— feels good.” You’re so obedient, holding your legs up for him so he can get deeper. Your eyes roll back, flutter shut. He fumbles to grab the camera, to immortalize you like this.

Your cunt squeezes around him, makes his rhythm falter as he struggles to fend off his orgasm. God, he just wants to bury himself deep and rut into you, to cum deep and hard, leave you dripping with him. It’s about him… but it’s about you too. He’d be good, he’d make you cum.

“Tell me how bad you need to cum. Fucking beg me for it,” He groans, rubbing at your clit with a calloused thumb.

You whine, squeezing around his cock as he draws you closer and closer. “Need it, Art. It feels so good— you’re so fucking perfect, feel so perfect inside of me. Wanna cum for you, around your cock, wanna show you how good you feel. Please, please, god, I want it, I want to feel it, Art. Want you to cum inside of me, need it so bad— I fucking dream about it, about you. You’re so much better, you’re everything I want, Art, fucking claim me. I want you to.”

Art wanted to pull out. He did. He was going to glaze your pussy with his cum, get it on video, swipe his fingers through it and make you taste it. But Jesus Christ, you fucking ruined that idea. He cums suddenly, practically collapses on top of you as he fucks into your cunt, spilling himself deep inside of you. And like the perfect fucking toy you are, you cum too, milking him for all he’s worth, walls clenching down around his cock as he lazily ruts into you.

He pants, stays buried inside of you as he tries to catch his breath. He’d never cum inside someone before— he was too afraid of knocking someone up. He’d always had the self control to pull out, but he lost himself in fucking you, in the tight grip of your pussy around him. Christ, that was bad.

When he pulls out, a thick gush of his cum follows, pearly white, dripping down your ass and to the bed. He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. When he opens them, you’ve tugged a blanket over yourself shyly. Looking so demure, so sweet, batting your lashes up at him expectantly.

The camera lays dropped and forgotten on the bed, he goes and presses the stop button on the camera and you grab at his arm. “Do you want to stay the night?” You ask with a shy bite of your lip. “I told Izzy to fuck off, so she’s with her girlfriend. We’ve got the dorm for the night, so you can stay.”

Art makes a face akin to annoyance as he redresses, tugging on his boxers and sweats. His shirt is somewhere… he can’t focus. “I’m not your boyfriend.”

Your eyes widen, you swallow as heat floods your cheeks. “Yeah, I mean, I know,” you stammer. “I just thought…”

His jaw ticks. “Don’t do that, then. This is just about fucking.

Art watches the sad little nod, the tiniest twitch of your nose as you fight the rush of tears to your eyes. “I know that, Art,” you say sadly, and you’re trembling again. “I just wish you’d stay for a bit. I’m… I feel a lot right now. I’ve never… I’ve never felt this before I just want—“

“What do you want? A hug, a kiss?” He watches you sniffle sadly, nod and mutter a watery, yeah. He sighs, stops searching for his shirt, and pulls you against his chest. You feel so warm, so vulnerable as you shake and cry hot tears against his chest. He frowns, pulls back, and presses his lips to yours, quick and chaste. “I’m not doing this again if you keep acting like this.”

You sniffle and nod. “Okay, I know, I won’t do it again.” He kisses the crown of your head. Grabs a random shirt from the top of your laundry basket, grabs the camera, and heads for the door. You watch him leave with a pouty, wobbly little frown and get up to redress. You find his Stanford Tennis shirt partly beneath your bed and pull it on. It’s big, fits you like a hug, smells so boyish and warm. You lay back down on the bed he just fucked you on and breathe deep, let his smell flood your senses. It feels a little like being wanted.

AURRRRR this was so much longer than I thot <3

Anyways. Love pat’s sister au, feel free to send me any asks you want about these messy bitches <3

🐞 anon i love u

[sunsetsover]

the more this show goes on the more i just genuinely don't get how people hate kant, or at the very least have no empathy for him and his situation.

kant is a man literally built of sacrifice. in so many ways he sacrificed his own life for babe's. over and over and over again. his grief for babe's. his education for babe's. his happiness for babe's safety and security. his social life in order to stay at home taking care of babe. relationships with partners who didn't take any interest in babe, or didn't want the baggage of a man with a dependent. whatever dreams or aspirations he had for himself fell to the wayside, at least temporarily, in favour of supporting babe.

he sacrificed his own freedom every time he stepped out of their house to go and steal a car - something that he so clearly isn't proud of at all - just so babe can get the education he deserves. the fact that he wasn't caught doesn't matter, he went to altar every single time, willing to be caught and slaughtered like a lamb if it meant babe was good.

and then he was finally caught, and he sacrificed himself in brand new ways just so he could stay out of prison. never mind the fact that kant might not have even gone to prison if it was his first offence and he played the system right, and even if he did it wouldn't have been for long. but that wasn't a chance he could ever take, because who would look after babe if he was gone, even for a few months? who would pay for school and make sure he ate? and so he stayed willingly under christ's thumb for god only knows how many years, playing whatever new versions of big brother he had to be, ingratiating himself with drug dealers and thieves and whatever other kinds of dangerous people christ wanted him to, getting himself onto all these people's bad side knowing it would only take one to figure him out and turn on him and put him in hospital, or worse. but that was a sacrifice he willingly made the moment he pulled his grieving baby brother into his arms and said 'i'll take care of him'.

and here it is, the ultimate sacrifice: christ tells kant to jump into the lion's den, promising that if he makes it out alive, he can have his freedom back. and what choice does kant have? if he doesn't they'll be back to square one after he worked so fucking hard for his and babe's stability. and babe's old enough now that kant can start having a life again, and kant's business is doing well, and things are finally good for them, but now this. and if he doesn't do this it will have all been for nothing. so he does it. essentially puts his life up as collateral once again the moment he walks through the door of heart burger and tries to seduce an assassin, knowing it could be taken from him in an instant if he missteps.

except it doesn't go as he planned, because bison is beautiful and bison is bright, and he's sweet and he's dangerous and kant can't help but fall for him, no matter how he tries to dig his heels in and think about the end goal: his freedom, his brother's safety. he says as much to style - style says bison has you wrapped around his finger and kant says i know. that's why i'm trying to end things quickly. and in that moment bison becomes yet another sacrifice kant makes for babe. or at least he's trying so hard to make him one. because what kant wants, he cannot have. not when there's babe to think about.

but it's so unfair. and it's so sad. like yes we all know it's unfair for bison and it'll be such a betrayal, but what about kant? what about his heart in all of this? what about him giggling at his phone screen like a teenager texting bison, only for the grin to fall the moment he remembers who he is and what he must do? what about him acknowledging that he's working so hard to hold bison at arms length but he's failing and that's why he needs this over asap? what about him having to be on all the fucking time, spewing out lie after lie after lie, and what that does that him? what about him being so fucking scared every time a gun is shoved in his face that he's fucked up in a way he can't talk himself out of and that babe will be left all alone in the world?

what about kant having this beautiful boy in his bed, who's kissing him in places he's never been kissed before and telling him that he loves his fuck ups, and that he won't come over because doesn't want to be a bad influence on babe, and that him stealing cars was not only not a shameful thing, but an admirable thing to do for someone you love? this beautiful boy who notices his brother is hurting and follows him to defend him from the people that hurt him without question? this beautiful boy who has asked for nothing but the truth, the one thing kant can never give him? this beautiful boy that kant is falling for, and he knows he is, and he knows he can't, because that's not allowed, because bison isn't his, he doesn't get to keep him. he's just another sacrifice in a long line of sacrifices kant has made for love, and yet this one... this one has claws. this one will leave scars that he'll get to keep longer than he will ever get to keep bison.

kant has been living with an asterisk next to his name from the moment his parents died. from then on, at every opportunity kant sacrificed who he might've been for who babe still could be. he sacrificed kant the person for kant the big brother, and whatever that included. kant the protector. kant the provider. kant the thief, the scammer, the informant. kant the manipulator. never just kant, not anymore.

but then there's bison. beautiful, observant bison who always seems to be asking who are you whenever he looks at kant. and kant doesn't know what to tell him, he really doesn't, bc whatever mask he tries to put on, whatever facade he tries to hide behind, bison just sees right through him. and although kant does everything possible to avoid telling him anything, bison always seems to get his answers anyway, even when kant doesn't say a word. like bison is collecting every splintered version of kant and putting them together to make a whole person again. just kant. no asterisk.

and kant doesn't know what to do, because bison is beautiful and he's in his bed and he has kant wrapped around his finger despite his best efforts. and yet he knows it's only of time before he has to peel himself away and never look back. let bison sit in the prison cell that was always supposed to be kant's. and despite how he might try to convince himself otherwise, he knows the guilt will eat him alive. he knows he'll feel the place where he tore them apart just as acutely as bison will. he'll have to splinter apart into a thousand versions of himself all over again. kant with an asterisk. and he'll have no one to blame but himself.

and isn't that just so fucking unfair?

[whimsiwitchy]

Controversially Young Girlfriend (part seven)

Hugh Jackman x popstar!reader 

series masterlist & main masterlist

summary: y/n is a globally beloved pop star. She is known for her talent and dedication towards her craft. Recently, she has also been known for her preference for older men. After a breakup with her former older boyfriend, she had a run in with the hottest dilf right now, Hugh Jackman. Y/n tried to warn him, but what can she say, she has an effect on hot, older men. 

warnings: age gap (23/55), cursing, y/n used, implied shorter reader, afab reader, she/her pronouns, sexual themes, pedro (srry he's a big part of this chapter)

warnings will change as the story progresses! all descriptions of real people in this story are FAKE. I do not know these people and this is purely fiction. Please let me know if I missed anything!! <3

authors note: hi everyone! I literally just posted saying idk when I would update again but I decided to look through what I had written for this part and give it to y'all. she's a short one but it's cute. somewhat proof read lol. enjoy <3

part seven: closing chapters

You’ve been back in Los Angeles for less than a day and you already missed the simplicity of being with Hugh. Los Angeles was reality and it was an ugly one. All of the responsibilities came tumbling down on you and you felt like you were stuck in an inescapable maze. As much as you wanted to stay hidden, tucked under Hugh’s protective arm forever, you had to be an adult about this. You needed to stop ignoring Ashley and talk things out with her. You also needed to talk to Pedro and close that chapter that had been left wide open. Your personal life couldn’t have picked a worse time to get interesting. Tour started in two weeks, leaving very little time to tie all loose ends before traveling the world.

When you landed this morning, you ate a quick breakfast from a small cafe and went straight to rehearsals. They ran longer today to make up for the few days you were gone but you didn’t mind. Being on stage and performing the music you worked so hard on always upped your mood, even if you were unbelievably tired at the end of the day. At the moment, you were laying in bed, trying your best to stay awake while you waited for Hugh to call. He texted you a few hours earlier saying he spent the day with his kids and talked to them about the relationship you two had built over the questionable short period of time. He didn’t go into any further detail but promised to call as soon as he got home and settled. It was a little past 10pm, making it 1am in New York. Just as you were beginning to lose hope in Hugh’s late night call, your phone lit up with Hugh’s contact. 

“Hi Hugh.” You say sweetly into the speaker, sleepiness evident in your voice. “Hi, baby. Were you sleeping?” The deep accent you adored so much rumbled through the phone. “No, I was just laying down. How are you? How was your day?” As you speak, you move to sit up, your back resting against the headboard. “My day was good. It was nice to spend some time with the kids and catch up. We did a puzzle and talked, it was a nice day. How was your day, baby?” 

“It was good, busy. Basically hopped off the plan straight into rehearsals.” You let out an airy laugh. “I’m sorry sweet girl, I should let you get some sleep.” His voice trails off at the end and you know he genuinely feels bad for calling so late. “No, no…it’s fine. I want to talk to you. I don’t start as early tomorrow so I have some time to sleep in.” You assure him. “Are you sure baby? We can always talk tomorrow.” “I’m sure.” You let out a small yawn and Hugh chuckles.  “Hm, if you say so.” 

“Whatever..” You say playfully. The line goes quiet for a moment, neither of you speaking. “So uh…you told your kids about us?” 

You wanted to ease into asking but you were dying to know. Thay had been the number one reason you’d been so hesitant to take on a relationship with Hugh and you know their opinion means something to him too. If they didn’t approve or had any distaste towards your pairing, you weren’t sure if you could be with Hugh without having a heavy layer of guilt strapped to your heart. 

“Oh yea, I told them.” 

His response makes your heart skip a beat. Hugh was never one to beat around the bush but he was dragging this out and it scared you. 

“And what did they say?” 

Hugh takes a sharp breath in and your heart falls into your stomach. They don’t approve, you can sense the words about to tumble out of his mouth. 

“They’re fine with it.” 

His short answers are beginning to irritate you a little bit. You needed to know every detail of their conversation, you wouldn’t be able to sleep without it. 

“Hugh, can you please just tell me everything? Your lack of words is driving me insane.” You draw out the end of the last word, showing him just how frustrated you are. 

“I’m sorry baby, there's not much to tell. My daughter is a fan and begged me to introduce you two and um…well my son…he uh..this is so fucking awkward…” He huffs. “What did he say? I’m sure it can’t be that bad if they’re fine with everything right? Just spit it out, I can take it.” He sighs. “My son has a crush on you.” 

“Oh!” You can feel your body heat up underneath your duvet. “That uh…that is kinda awkward. What did he say about us being together then?” 

“He said something about how he doesn't understand how I was able to ‘bag a baddie’ like you, whatever that means.” You laugh at that. “He’s not mad, just jealous I guess. I’m really gonna have to keep an eye out for him when you meet them. I trust him, he’s my son, but I’m not gonna stand for his eyes wandering on my girl.”

You laugh again, partially because of his words and partially because of how wild this entire conversation is. 

“Well I’d love to meet your daughter and she’s free to come to any show she wants, I'll get her in. Same goes for your son as well, if that’s okay with you. I don’t want you to get too jealous and cause a fight between you two.” You giggle through the last few words. 

“Yea yea, we’ll see.” 

The line goes quiet again, a comfortable silence. 

“Hugh, I have a question.” “Shoot baby.” You can hear the sleepiness starting to appear in his voice. “I was wondering if you’d be okay with me going to talk to Pedro soon?” You hear rustling on his end before he speaks again. “Why do you want to do that?” There’s a slight hint of anger in his tone but you know it’s not towards you but towards how Pedro treated you. “I really need to talk things out with him. As much as I'm over him, there’s still a little part of me that needs closure, that needs to ask questions. I want this part of my life to be done but I need to have it properly sealed off.” “Could you wait until I’m back in town? I trust you but I don’t trust him one bit.” You smile at his protectiveness. “I really want to fix everything before the tour starts. I need to talk to Ashley too and the sooner I can get over this, the sooner I can put all my focus on the tour and you. So unless you’re planning on being back in town in a week, I need to do this alone. Is that okay?” He sighs and takes a moment. “Of course that’s fine baby. Just keep me updated on everything that happens.” “I will.” The two of you talk for 20 more minutes before you both call it a night, ending the call with “I love you”. 

The next morning, you immediately texted Hugh before rolling out of bed and starting your day. You showered, brushed your teeth, got dressed, and made your way to the kitchen. You opted for a lazy breakfast, too tired to do anything else. You popped a bagel into the toaster and fried an egg, laying a slice of cheese on top to melt. You made your little bagel breakfast sandwich and washed a few berries to go with it. 

While you ate, you scrolled through your phone. Hugh hasn't texted you back yet but it didn't surprise you. He was up late and with his age, he needed his sleep. You smiled to yourself as you thought about how peaceful he looks while he’s deep in sleep. While scrolling through instagram, you get an ad for Gladiator II. Your ex’s stupid hot face was plastered on your phone. You sighed and pulled up his contact. You were grateful you deleted the text thread you once had, you weren’t sure if you could handle seeing all of the previous sweet words he used to send you. 

You: hey p, it’s y/n. I was wondering if we could meet up soon and talk? no pressure :) 

Once you hit send, you locked your phone and slid it across your kitchen table. Your phone buzzed a few seconds later and your heart started beating faster…there’s no way he could have already responded. You reached for your phone, having to lift out of your chair slightly. When your phone unlocks, your heart slows down, it’s just Hugh. 

You texted back and forth with Hugh all morning until you pulled up to the Kia Forum. Tour was officially a week away from starting which meant you got to rehearse in the venue that would be starting the tour off. You’d been in the Forum a few times for various concerts but being here for your own performance was a different animal. Knowing that this place was sold out for you was wild. You caught up with all of your dancers, them sharing the same excitement. The energy in the building was electric. The crew was excited to get their creations in full and everyone was just happy to finally be starting. 

With being in a new space, the start of rehearsal was a bit slow. Lights, sounds, and various other things had to be adjusted now that everything was in full. You didn’t mind though. It gives you a chance to slow down and appreciate how far you’ve come. It was lunchtime and you decided to hide away in your dressing room to eat. A few people offered you to come with them but you really needed a moment to yourself. You were overwhelmed but in a good way. You grabbed some food from the catering someone had ordered, you made a note to yourself to find out who it was and thank them. 

Once you got to your dressing room, you pulled your phone out of your purse and scrolled through your notification log. Hugh’s messages were the first thing you saw. You were responding to everything he had sent when another message popped up at the top of your phone. 

pedro: hey y/n. I’m free today if you wanna swing by sometime? 

You pulled up to the familiar gates and typed in the code that was still etched in your brain. Once you parked your car in the semi circle driveway, you texted Pedro that you were here before taking a deep breath and stepping out of your car. It always looked out of place next to the large home, even more now that you didn’t belong here the way you once had. One of the brown French style doors open just as you're walking up the three concrete steps that lead to the entrance. You look up from your shoes. Locking eyes with Pedro, you feel your heart tense up. The pain of losing the man you had felt so deeply for re-entered your body involuntarily. He was wearing his typical casual attire: a pair of black cotton shorts, his beloved yellow lakers tee, and a pair of long black socks. The slight gray in his hair had begun to spread, the sides of his beard almost losing all color. He looked as handsome as ever. He held the door open with one arm, leaning slightly. A small smile rested on his face and his brown puppy dog eyes gave you the same feeling they had when you had first met him. 

“Hi y/n.” His voice sounded almost hesitant. “Hi P…Thanks for having me.” He backs up to let you inside. You slip your shoes off, like you had many times before. “No problem. I’m kinda surprised you wanted to talk to me, thought you would’ve been done with me after…well you know.” You don’t answer, instead you walk towards his living room and plop yourself down in the spot you had claimed many months ago, Pedro taking his own claimed spot not too far from yours. “It’s weird seeing you there again…missed seeing you here.” You sigh. “Pedro…don’t say that.” “Why not?” “You don’t get to miss me when you’re the one that left me. You hurt me P. Not the other way around.” He scoffs. “Sure didn’t seem too hurt to me. You moved on just fine.” “Can you stop being an asshole for two fucking seconds?” 

You wanted to come into this with patience and maturity but Pedro was making that impossible. He was being completely insufferable and had been since the moment he broke up with you, like it was somehow your fault. You missed the kind Pedro, the one you had fallen for. 

“Well it’s true, isn’t it? It took a month before you fell into someone else's arms, no let me clarify, my friend’s arms.” You could tell he was trying to get under your skin and you didn’t know where he gained this hatred for you. His voice was sour, a scowl present on his face. 

“God Pedro…” You sigh in anger. “Yes I invited him to the album party but he was there for me when you sat there and yelled- no embarrassed me at my own event. You don’t get to play victim in this situation. We weren’t together and hadn’t been together for weeks by the time I met him.” You could tell you were beginning to lose control over your emotions. The anger and pain both battled reaching for your throat begging to take control over your next words. 

His eyes go soft as he starts to speak again. “Y/n…I’m sorry about that, I was drunk and I-” 

You couldn’t help but laugh. 

“You know what? Fuck you Pedro. Truly. You are the most selfish person I’ve ever met. You broke up with me because the pressure was too hard on you. You come to my event and try to grab me, then you yell at me because Hugh came to check on me. Now you’re mad that I found someone that actually gives two shits about me, that isn’t afraid to deal with whatever comes with dating a younger girl? I’m over it.” You laugh again. “And now you want to apologize for that night when you’ve been nothing but rude since I sat on this couch? I came here for closure, nothing more. I liked you Pedro. I really really like you and you crushed my heart that night and every time I’ve seen you after. I don’t understand what I did to deserve this hatred that you’ve been throwing at me but it’s not fair.” 

Your anger had won the battle but your sadness would win the war. Your voice broke on your last words, hot tears pouring down your cheeks. 

“It’s not fucking fair P…” 

You tuck your face into your sweatshirt, allowing yourself to cry in peace. Pedro doesn’t speak and the silence lasts for what feels like forever. You could feel a slight movement on the couch, then two warm arms wrap around your shoulder, a chin resting atop your head. The two of you stay like that for a while. You let your tears flood your cheeks until there aren’t any left. 

“I’m so sorry babygirl. I didn’t mean to hurt you like this.” 

You slowly pull your face out of the sweater. One of Pedro’s arms drops to rest on his leg, the other lay across your shoulders still. His water line was filled with his own tears, eyes red. 

“Then why did you?” He takes a moment to think and pulls you into his chest. Your head resting right above his heart, the beat a little faster than the one you had memorized. 

“Shit y/n…I know no matter how I say this, it’s gonna sound fucked up.” He squeezes his arms gently. “I was so scared, baby. When everyone started to form their opinions on us and kept pinning me to be some weirdo, I freaked out. I’m at the height of my career and I couldn’t imagine losing that…and you were right, I'm selfish. When I let you go, I immediately regretted it. I showed up to your party wanting to apologize. I had a few drinks, some liquid courage if you will, but damn baby, those fruity little drinks were a lot stronger than I thought they’d be.” You chuckle at the comment. “I was waisted by the time I saw you and when…Hu-...when he came to defend you, I lost my shit. I was so pissed off. Even in the state I was in, the look in his eyes was loud. He looked at you with so much adoration and I knew I’d already lost you.” 

He pauses. 

“I’m not trying to make excuses for myself, I just..I just want you to- no, I need you to know what happened. I’m sorry for being an ass today too. I guess I’m not over you and it hurts that you’re over me.” 

You look up at him. 

“I’m not trying to be mean when I say this P but it’s your fault. I could’ve loved you….I was falling in love with you. My time with you was special, so different than anything I’d ever felt before. I think we would’ve been good together. If you would have talked to me, maybe things would be different. You should have talked to me.” 

“We could’ve been the greatest?” He gives a lazy smile down to you and you look down in shame, wincing slightly. “You watched it?” You ask quietly. “Yea I did.” He pauses. “You sounded beautiful up there, you’re so talented y/n…even if it was so clearly targeted towards me.” The arm that's wrapped around your shoulder moves, his hand resting on your head now, moving in slow circles. 

“Would you ever give us another chance?” He asks, looking down at you. The hope in his eyes pains you. 

“I love him P…” You see the small glimmer of happiness drain from his face. You were feeling just as hurt, knowing that if Hugh hadn’t entered your life when he did or if you had talked to Pedro sooner, you’d give him another chance without a second thought. 

“Does he treat you good?” You almost scoff at the question, given who’s asking, but you don’t have the heart to be mean to him anymore. “Yea he does…” You smile at the thought of just how well Hugh does treat you. “Well, then I’m happy for you.” 

“Are you really or are you just trying to be nice?” You joke and he shrugs. “The latter but truthfully if you were going to be with anyone other than myself, I’m glad it’s him. He’s good.” He smiles down at you and it almost reaches his eyes. “Speaking of Hugh…you kinda owe him an apology, mister.” You poke at the side of his chest that you’re not leaning on. “For what? Stealing my girl?” His words make your tummy stir. “I wasn’t your girl anymore. You called him old and yelled at him. He’s your friend, so apologize.” 

“He is old.” You punch his arm and give him a look. “Ow..fuck. Fine, I’ll apologize but I’m not sure how buddy buddy I can be with him anymore.” “I don’t really care about that, as long as you’re nice to him.” 

He doesn’t respond. You spend a few minutes feeling the warmth of his embrace, it was something you were going to miss. As much as you loved Hugh, Pedro had been someone special to you and it hurt to let him go, even with what he put you through. 

“How much longer do my pictures have on your instagram before I’m replaced by Hugh?” He jokes and your eyes go wide. “Oh fuck me…” You had completely forgotten about the pictures that littered your page. “I will.” He smirks. “Shut the fuck up. I’m deleting them in front of your face just for saying that.” You whip out your phone. There are a few texts from Hugh on the homescreen asking how it’s going. “I’m surprised your guard dog let you come alone.” “Oh believe me, he didn’t want me to but he’s in New York and couldn’t stop me.” You open instagram. “And for that comment, I'm making you press delete on these. You can feel the finalization of us being over. Consider it punishment for being such a dick.”  He laughed and pressed delete on the first one. 

In the third picture, you started to regret this ‘punishment’. “We were a cute couple. You remember that one? That’s when you came over and we fucked like rabbits all week-” “Okay your done. Give me my phone.” You shove him away after and he lets out a deep belly laugh. The sound made you pause for a moment. This was the Pedro you had enjoyed being around. It was always so easy to joke around with him and be yourself. You would miss him. 

series taglist: @chronicallybubbly @spideybv28 @pear-1206 @robertthehoover @reidsworld @bloody-bunni666 @quillycrow @kythefangirl25 @bluetimeombre @cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782 @thewiselionessss @annagraceevanss @peterparkernotfound @rogueinmymind @samsamsantos @wolviesgirl @white-wolf-buckaroo @weskerussy @marvelgirlie-4 @honey-ros3ss @nonamevenus @nizem8 @chaimshelii @rockerchick05 @starryeddie @saylak @haytchee @godlypresley @mega-kittyglitter-1 @acescutejeans-1247 @bethexo07

*taglist closed*

[mythicmanuscripts]

imagine aegon and reader. One evening he tries to surprise reader in the bedroom by waiting for her wearing a robes of heavy silk, that flow around him like water, a picture of unearthly beauty. i see him nervous, blushing, he has never worn things like that and doesnt know he reader will like it.

Thx xoxo

Alright lads buckle up we’re finally discussing feminisation with Aegon!!! Truly a match made in heaven.

NSFW sub!Aegon below the cut! Also, I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea so I’ll be tagging all feminisation content with ‘femboy hotd’ so block that tab if you’d rather not see this. Otherwise, venture beyond cut for my initial thoughts :))

Right so firstly, Aegon wants to be pretty. He has always wanted to be pretty. People have called him handsome, which is appreciated of course, but he wants to be pretty. He wants to feel pretty.

I think maybe he’s had a very expensive little collection of women’s clothes since before he even married you? He never told another soul about them of course. He especially never told the brothel workers he laid with because he knew they’d only let him wear those clothes as humiliation.

But then he marries you and you become closest ally and he falls in love? It all changes.

You make him feel pretty. You open the door for him and keep a hand around his waist and kiss his head and he feels so pretty and so…. So small? But in the best way possible, like he’s some beautiful precious thing that has to be handled with care.

Ever since you had started taking control in the bedroom, Aegon wanted to bring his pretty clothes into things but he was so so nervous about it. You’ve been nothing but loving and supporting of him and especially of his subby side so logically he knows that you’ll most likely be fine with. But that’s not a risk he’s willing to take.

He doesn’t know what he’ll be able to survive if you looked at him disgust when you found out. So he keeps it to himself, even though he wants to dress up for you so bad his chest aches with it.

Until one day when Aegon is laying on the his back naked in bed. You’re sitting between his legs and playing with him, alternating between playing with his cock and his and a combination of both. But while you’re doing this you’re also being so casual? You chat to Aegon, smiling at him and chatting like you haven’t just edged him for the 3rd time.

Without even thinking about it, you say “You’re so pretty.” He pauses for a moment, and then when he looks back at you he’s got this timid little smile on his face as he asks you to say it again.

From there you just have to continue talking about how pretty he is and how his job is to be your plaything and you’re so lucky to have him.

That interaction is what gives Aegon the courage to wear one of his pretty silk robes for you the next night. He makes sure he’s back at your quarters before you and ordered all the servants out, telling them that they working needed until the next morning and then quickly bathing and putting on his pretty coat with nothing else on. He’d love to add some shoes or pretty panties but he’s worried that might be too much.

Walking into our room and seeing Aegon sprawled out on the bed in a pretty silk may have genuinely taken years off your life.

He’s all shy and blushy until you promise him that he looks so good and you love it so much. You dom him with the robe still on and don’t even take it off to ride him.

Once he’s recovered and is cuddled up against your chest he asks if you’re sure you liked the robe. Which makes you give him a light smack on the back of his head.

For the next few weeks Aegon will occasionally wear his pretty clothes when you fuck him. Of course you make sure to call him pretty every time and kiss his forehead, the forehead kiss is required.

I also think maybe he starts to wearing them outside of sex too? Obviously he doesn’t walk around public like that but his chambers is a safe space where the only one who sees him like that is his darling wife.

[the-fiction-witch]

A Star P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Aegon Targaryen Couple - Aegon X Reader Reader - Y/n Rating - Sweet Word Count - 748

As the night deepened, Aegon kept a watchful eye over Orion any time he so much as wiggled Aegon was there looming over the crib. Although his own eyes were tired and heavy, he diligently remained by the baby's side. When it reached the hour of the wolf, Aegon gently picked up Orion and carried him into the bedroom and gently began to awake Y/n, just as promised. He knew she must be feeling exhausted and did feel bad for waking her but he didn’t want to call the milk maid in to feed baby Orion without at least asking Y/n how she felt about it given Orion had only been at Y/n’s breast since birth. "Y/n, it's time... Orion is hungry," he said gently, his voice soft but determined.

She yawned and sat up in bed a little she rubbed her eyes and opened her arms for the baby almost as instinct,

Aegon nodded and carefully placed Orion in her arms. The baby let out soft mewling noises, clearly hungry. As she took Orion into her embrace, Aegon positioned a pillow behind her back to provide some additional support. He knew that feeding time could be physically demanding, especially after giving birth and he sat himself down on the bed ready to help out any more if needed,

she sighed and pulled down her dress, it took a good few attempts to get Orion to latch to her breast but finally the baby began to drink and she sat trying to relax but her eyes squeezed tight from the pain

Aegon watched as she struggled to nurse Orion. He could see the pain etched on her face as the baby latched on. It was evident that the process was not easy, and he felt a pang of guilt for not being able to fully understand the pain she was going through. He gently rubs her back and trying to provide some comfort. "Is there anything I can do to help, or anything you need?" He asked softly, genuinely,

"you could grow breasts that would help," she joked in her tried state,

Aegon chuckled softly, "Ah, I'm afraid that's not in my power. If I could grow breasts and feed our son, I would do so in a heartbeat." He continued to gently rub her back, offering what little solace he could provide during this moment. "I wish I could take some of this pain away from you."

"It's alright it shall only get easier," she said, "Could you fetch me a drink I should really drink when he feeds so it has time before the next feeding I don't want little boy to find the teats are tapped out,"

Aegon chuckled lightly at the request, nodding in agreement. "Of course, I'll fetch you a drink. Do you have any preferences or should I just bring you something sweet and warm?" He carefully rose from his seat, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder before making his way out of the room to fetch you the desired beverage.

"Whatever you have… but wine would be nice. Strong wine"

Aegon smiled at her request for strong wine, appreciating the straightforwardness. He quickly made his way to the nearby table and made a goblet up of strong wine. As he walked back to the room, he couldn't help but chuckle a little at the sight. His wife sitting there nursing a small infant, so he hands the goblet over, "There you go... strong and intoxicating just as you wanted."

“Thank you, Your Grace,” She nodded immediately drinking about half of the goblet,

“You don’t have to call me that, you’re my wife, mother of our child,” He told her,

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure, just Aegon,”

“Yes, you- Aegon.” She nodded, “Ohh all done, he wasn’t as hungry as he thought he was,” she said taking Orion away,

“I’ll take him,” he smiled happily taking little Orion again and wiping the milk from his mouth, “oh look at you, milk all down yourself,” He chuckled, “he really is like a little drunk,”

“Umm he’ll be milk drunk now, needs burping and a nap,”

“Alright, I’ll burp him and put him down. You get some more rest,”

“You sure?”

“I’m sure, you rest I’ll handle him.” he smiled kissing her cheek before he puts Orion on his shoulder and behind to burp the baby on his way back to the main part of their chamber,

“Aegon?”

“Yeah?” He turned,

“Be gentle,”

“I will I promise,”

“And… thank you,”

“You’re very welcome Y/n,” He blew her a kiss before closing the bedroom door,

[latenightdaydreams]

Pretty please, May I request König finding the reader shoved in a corner having an anxiety attack?

My anxiety has been really bad this month, and I feel like if I got a really big hug and just be held to someone's chest so I could hear their heartbeat, it'd do me wonders 🥲I'm lame I know🥲

You're not lame at all! I'm sorry to hear that your anxiety has gotten worse this last month. I hope things begin to turn around for you💖 I'm sending you all the virtual hugs💖

Comfort!König x Reader

Fluff💗

Master List

>cw: anxiety attack

.

.

After getting no response from you while on his lunch break, he decided to just rush home to make sure that you’re okay. Upon opening the front door, he’s greeted with loud wails from upstairs. Moving as fast as he can, he climbs the stairs, skipping a few with every step.

“Schatz?”

König calls out as he opens the bedroom door to see you laying on the cold wooden floor with your hands on your face. Your body trembles as your breathing shudders. König instantly drops to his knees, reaching out with one hand to stroke your back. He rips his sniper hood off of his head and tosses it down.

“Schatzi. I’m here.” König keeps his voice steady while his heart is breaking seeing you like this.

“No! Go back to work.”

Your voice trembles as you cry out, too ashamed to even look at König. You’re aware he has taken off time from work to be here, making the guilt of needing him constantly weigh heavier on you.

“Baby, bitte. Come to me.”

König knows you don’t really want to push him away, but at the moment, you feel like a burden. Having PTSD himself, he genuinely understands you. He knows how it feels when the entire world seems to crash down around him, so he’s always promised to be your safe space to ground yourself. In no way does he ever view you as a burden. Work used to be his whole world, but now he has you. You’re more important.

“No! Go away!”

You scream out between sobs. As the anxiety builds, you move your hands to your ears in an attempt to block him out. Your head shakes back and forth as you struggle to catch your breath.

He looks down at you with a deep sorrow in his eyes. “Come to me, bitte.”

König gently scopes your body into his arms, not waiting for you to deny him again, moving you so effortlessly against his body. He stands with you and walks to the bed, sitting you on his lap. The warmth of his body helps relax you, allowing your body to melt into him. One hand grasps the fabric of his shirt as you bury your face in König’s chest.

While he has you on his lap, he cradles you gently. He gently kisses the top of your head and rocks you back and forth. You zero in on the rhythmic sound of König’s heart beating against your ear. His deep breaths move your body up and down. Slowly, you mimic his breathing, your body no longer trembling.

As König notices you beginning to relax, he speaks in a quiet voice, telling you how much you mean to him in a broken mix of German and English. The rumbles in his chest as he speaks adding to the calming effect König naturally offers you. He’s the home you’ve always needed but never found; until now.

“Schatzi, Ich bin hier.” He whispers again to you.

“I’m sorry.” Your voice comes out small and broken.

“Never be sorry, you did nothing wrong.”

König tilts your head to face him. His pale blue eyes relax as you gaze into them, a small smile on his thin lips. Your beautiful lips and eyes are puffy from all the crying you’ve done today. He reaches out with one hand and wipes snot from your nose, rubbing it off on his pants. That gets a giggle out of you, causing König to chuckle along with you.

“Was?”

“That’s gross.”

“Nein, you’re my Schatz. Boogers don’t bother me.” He says in a playful tone.

After some giggles, there is a moment of silence between you two. His eyes slowly tracing over every detail on your face. He leans in and kisses your forehead, nose, and then lips. The kiss lingers for a moment before he quickly places another.

As he pulls back, he lets out a pleased hum. One of your hands reaches up to brush back his messy blonde hair as he gazes down at you.

“I love you, y/n.”

“I love you too.” You say quietly.

“Is there anything you need right now, Schatzi?”

“Just this. Please.”

“Anything for you.”

[upsidedownmvnson]

dungeons and douchebags | eddie munson

where eddie munson kills your dnd character out of spite & you end up in the hospital in the same day. eddie, of course, blames only himself.

full fic of this blurb :)

AN: i named the third guy keith bc he needed a name, and if his role was pre-established im SORRY but hes a mage. a lot of the dnd stuff im sure is wrong and doesnt work but let me live

also i love this so u should to

also also I KNOW ITS A SHITTY THING FOR A DM TO DO - thats the point

Eddie’s annoyed with you when you’re not on time for Hellfire.

You know he’s sensitive about starting on time, but still you were running late again, even though this time you promised it would be different, and you would even be early.

And Eddie had foolishly believed you again. It hurt especially, because even though you were just friends, Eddie was so painfully in love with you. All day every day, he was pining, yearning, longing. You were on his mind all the time, and you... you couldn't even bother to be on time for Hellfire.

When he begged you to be on time earlier in the day, he had made sure to mention that it would mean a lot to him if you were on time. And he thinks that if you love him back, you'll definitely care when he communicates something like that.

He knows he shouldn't let himself feel like this, but every Friday he's reminded that he's not special to you. He's not the one person you're always on time for. Eddie thinks, somehow, that if you're on time for Hellfire, well then maybe you like him too. It's silly, but it's what he does. It gets more painful as time goes on and you're still not there.

The mood slowly shifts to something tense as time ticks on. You’re always a couple minutes late but nearly an hour? Eddie is painfully frustrated, and his feelings are hurt. Eddie has overthught himself to a dramatic conclusion that you've decided you're above Hellfire.

While the party chats on totally unaware, barely even recognizing that they still haven't started, Eddie thinks you've looked in the mirror and recognized that you're better than them. That you can, and should, have everything and everyone you want. He thinks you'll want to be with a jock. Or maybe a cheerleader. He thinks you've decided not to love him.

In a fit of self pity and rage, he decides to leave your character behind, so the party left you alone, sleeping in a cave.

"Attention," Eddie says, "the sun is rising. It's time to pack your bags and move on."

Dustin looks confused, "where's y/n?"

"Who knows?" Eddie tries to look unamused to hide his pain, but it slips, and ends up just looking angry.

Eddie rolls a perception check for you to see if you wake up. He rolls an 18. And with your build you would've noticed the group leaving without you. Eddie is still think about you in the arms of a jock. "She fails." Eddie looks at the group with an evil grin. "You leave the camp unnoticed."

As the game goes on, Eddie feels crappy. He's never cheated like that before. Like, sure, he's changed a roll or two to make the plot better, or to not totally kill one of his players because some random NPC got a nat 20. That was his right as DM. But... leaving you like that was less than cool.

But even worse, when they return to the cave later, you're stuck in a bandit situation. Eddie really, truly, genuinely expected the party to save you. Except, one thing led to another, and you were stabbed through stomach, making you bleed out. Normally, this is where you'd roll your life saving throws.

It wasn't really supposed to play out like that. But he didn't expect the party to roll such terrible throws, all of them accidently leaving you defenseless. Eddie kinda feels bad, but you hurt him first.

What he doesn't expect is Steve Harrington bursting into the drama room, looking frenzied, just a few moments later. The party halts. The last thing happening in the game was the party finishing off the last bandit, and running to your aid. But now, they were all just staring at Steve. Eddie approached his friend, worried about the look in Steve’s eyes.

Steve stood up straight, and cleared his throat. Weakly he says, “something terrible happened.”

And then Steve tells them all about your car accident, and Eddie feels sick. His knees buckle, and Steve has to hold him up. He’s totally disoriented by this news. He feels his heartbeat pounding behind his eyes, and his ears ring loudly, barely registering the panicked talking going on around him

“They're alive,” Steve was shouting, but because people weren’t letting him talk, he had to keep shouting it over the hundred questions. They wouldn't be able to handle it. Not again. Not when Max still hasn't woken up. “Eddie? Can you hear me buddy?”

But Eddie was in shock. He was blaming himself. He killed you.

“Can you walk? I'll drive you,” Steve says, as Gareth searches Eddie's pockets for the keys to the van. “Dustin, get over here, help me get Eddie to the car.” Eddie overhears Jeff tell everyone to meet at the van.

As soon as they get moving, the adrenaline starts pumping through Eddie’s body. He was suddenly able to break free of his friends' aid and pick up his pace, and the three of them ran through the school and into the parking lot. The dim light Steve parked by was flickering, putting a weak spotlight on Eddie as he tugged the door handle on the passenger seat

“Let me unlock it,” Steve snapped, fumbling the keys in his hand. He dropped them, the pressure of Eddie’s stare was kinda terrifying. He got the door open and unlocked the others.

When they were in the car, Eddie was finally alert, if anything overaware.

“What the fuck is going on?” he snapped.

No one said anything. There was nothing they could say that would make Eddie feel better, or calm down. Steve sped out of the parking lot, blowing the stop sign. He really shouldn't have, given the whole reason you were in the hospital.

Eddie squeezed his eyes shut. This wasn't happening. He was wrong. He was being petty and he was hurt because he thought you were being a dick but you were - he was gunna throw up - you were somewhere bleeding. While he was busy killing you, you were actually laying on the asphalt after a violent car crash. And he was thinking you're an asshole

“Their character died,” Eddie said, “I've killed them.”

“It's not gunna happen,” Steve said, gripping the steering wheel. It was a statement he couldn't back up.

At the hospital, Eddie barely waited for the car to stop before he was running inside, tripping over his own feet as he rushed to get to you. dustin was hot on his trail and steve was parking the car.

Eddie saw Nancy with Jonathan over by the nurse's station, and when Nancy saw him, she came hustling over, putting her hands on Eddie's arms. Dustin spoke quietly with Jonathan in the background.

“Relax,” she said, “please breath. They’re okay right now, they’re in surgery, and it's going really well, okay?”

“Wheeler?” Eddie asked, eyes filling with tears he had no control over.

“It has to be fine,” Nancy said, “sit with me.” Nancy Wheeler was not going to lose another friend today. Not again.

And with no other options he listened, following Nancy to an uncomfortable plastic chair that squeaked when he sat. Nancy held his hand over the stiff arm rests, but he didn't find any comfort. He didn't think he would until he was with you again.

Jonathan sat beside Nancy, giving her a sad smile and handing her a bitter coffee. He sat quietly, letting Nancy give Eddie her attention. Dustin sat on the other side of Eddie, also opting to stay quiet. What was anyone supposed to say?

Honestly, the only thing Eddie wanted to hear was your voice.

Nothing changed for the first two days. But on the third day, the only change was in Eddie. He went from sitting quietly by your side to scribbling stuff in a notebook like a crazy person. He would also dip out to go use a library computer, or "check on some things," as he explained to Nancy.

Her and Steve were mutually concerned about Eddie's state. He was constantly babbling about saving you, and how he's figured it out they just have to succeed.

Everyone else got a chance to be worried when they got a call Tuesday saying there was a mandatory Hellfire meeting and anyone not in attendance would be left behind, and unwelcome for the rest of the campaign. He couldn't risk a single missing member. Not with the stakes...

Tuesday evening, Gareth, Jeff, and Keith are the first to arrive. They are curious as to what the hell their bandmate had cooked up, but they were more worried than excited. Eddie hadn't exactly been himself the last couple of days.

They don't expect a set up even more elaborate than usual. The lights are red and blue, making the room feel eerie, and small.

"Welcome to Hell," Eddie said, grinning and holding his arms open wide.

Gareth and Jeff exchanged a look, but were too nervous to speak. Eddie didn't want to explain the objective twice, so he waited for the rest of the party to arrive before he said anything, but the look in his eye feels sinister. His friends suddenly realized how truly fucked Eddie would be if anything happened to you.... like... for keeps.

When the rest of the party is there, they look to Eddie expectantly, but he just continues to smile like a maniac and tells everyone to take their seats. Dustin is confused to see Steve Harrington sneak into the room and lean against the wall.

"I cheated," he says when he has the attention of the flock, "y/n didn't fail the perception check, and therefore their death wasn't fair. However, death is death. So we're going to have to bring them back."

Dustin notices that Steve Harrington's presence is not explained.

Nancy sits at your bedside like she has for the better part of the last four days. She holds a book in one hand, and the other rests casually beside you, near your hand. She looks at you, and then her hand. She gets a supernatural chill.

She puts her book down, and speaks your name quietly, looking for any sign of life from you. One more day of your glass features and she was going to crumble. Nancy shakes the bizarre feeling from her head, and pats your hand.

She shocked when you're ice cold to the touch. She recoils, pulling away fast. But after the initial shock fades, she touches you again. There was no way that was right, right? You were freezing. What the hell was that about? Nancy starts a search for a blanket to warm you up.

A mage freezes your body. The party scavenges for anything that can help and then leave the cave, your frozen body in tow. Another player can't make life saving throws for you, so they were thinking outside the box. They would take you deep, deep into an ancient necromancer's lair, and steal the resurrection stone from around his neck.

Nancy returns with a simply grey blanket, and a very friendly nurse. They had gotten to talking, and Nancy has simply explained how cold you had been, having not thought too much of it. The nurse, Sophie, had decided to come check it out too.

"Oh my gosh," Sophie says, feeling the ice cold skin. "Oh my gosh, she's like ice!"

And leaves Nancy feeling a little worried as she scurries out of the room. It was like she'd never seen anything like it. Nancy feels uneasy, and makes a quick phone call from your bedside phone. Jonathan picks up, and as soon as he hears the concern in her voice, he's on the way.

Nancy hangs up, picks the phone back up, and calls Steve. He picks up on the first ring.

"Something is like... actually happening over here," she whispers, shocked to even be saying it.

"No shot," he says, nearly laughing at the idea. He whispers the next part so the group doesn't hear anything, "I thought we agreed Eddie was just crazy, and this whole 'saving her character will save her' was just to show him that he didn't cause all this."

"I know we did," she said, "but y/n is cold as ice."

Eddie's voice booms as he narrates the perilous journey. After trap rooms, fighting devil dogs, two gargoyles, and a Molydeus that nearly killed Mike. They had made it into the inner sanctum, but had all failed to roll perception upon entering, and set off a fire trap. One that melted the spell on you, leaving you warm enough to die. "Hurry!" Dustin shouted, "engage the necromancer! Hit 'em with everything we got."

Nancy is already back into her book, Jonathan sitting on the floor beside her, leaning his head against the armrest, while she dangles a dainty arm over his shoulder, letting it lay relaxed on his chest. A single beep draws her attention. She notices something different, but she can't say what. Your cheeks are rosy.

Nancy brings her hand off of Jonathan, drawing his attention too. She puts a cool hand against your forehead, and is again shocked by how you feel. You're burning up. You're fucking hot. Like boiling. Nancy runs to find Sophie again.

The turn is Keith's, his mage more powerful than the others, but instead turns his attention to your character. "I cast flesh to stone on y/n!" the mage shouts. "She'll die if she stays like this." "Roll for it!" "18!" "Pass!" Your body is frozen again, this time encased in stone. Another stall, and Eddie knows the party is running out of time.

"You have to feel her head," Nancy says, speed walking with the bubbly nurse hot on her trail. Sophie complies, and gasps.

"It's not possible," she says quietly, "I'm getting the doctor. There's something strange about your friend."

Nancy looks down at you, and jumps out of her skin when the machines start beeping wildly. All of them making different noises, all of them loud. Sophie rushes back in, with more staff behind her. Nancy and Jonathan are ushered out of the room by a woman who explains that you're in a code blue, which means they have to resuscitate you.

Nancy looks around the white hallway. She's overwhelmed and underpaid.

"Stay here," she tells her boyfriend. "This is crazy!"

But she runs off before she explains anything else. She's after a phone, which she finds with no trouble. She fishes a quarter out of her pocket, and uses it to call Steve again. He picks up as fast as last time, desperate for something other than watching dnd.

"Whatever they're doing, tell them to hurry up!" she's shouting, drawing the attention of patients and staff around her. "Something's happening! She's not breathing!"

The necromancer stands injured. The party cornering him, making him cower. He trembles, and begs for his life. He explains that the party came to his home, killed his people, and now wish to rip off the very thing that keeps him alive. "I stab him through the heart, and I take the necklace." Dustin says. As he looks at Steve, he thinks he understands what's going on. "Roll." "For what?" "Dexterity." Dustin rolls his die. The table is silent. The little D20 lands. the group erupts when they see the Nat 20 he rolled, effectively grabbing the necklace and throwing it around your neck from a metre away like horseshoe. As it lands on you, the ground shifts under the party's feet. Everyone stares in silence, both in the campaign and real life. Your character opens her eyes, coughs, and rises.

The party roars to life at the table, cheering at a job well done and slamming hands on the table in excitement. But the cheers are short lived, silence coats the room but this one is different. It's serious, eery. They can see that Steve looks worried, and he's trying to get Nancy to answer him, but he's getting nothing. looking at Steve expectantly. Apparently, everyone had figured out what the plan was. They all knew they were trying to wake you up. Steve says nothing. Just hangs up the phone, looking up with a disappointed frown.

"The line went dead."

Steve is once again driving Eddie to the hospital. And he's a nervous wreck. You're like schrodinger's cat. Eddie doesn't know if you're alive or not. He chews on the side of his thumb during the entire ride. The rest of the club was waiting patiently in the drama room. Eddie and Steve promised to call as soon as they knew anything.

Eddie can't fucking breath as he sprints down the hospital hallways, ignoring every sign and person telling him not to. He doesn't care. He has to get to you.

Wheeler is outside your room talking to a doctor, but with her back to him he couldn't see the bright, beautiful smile on her face talking excitedly about your miraculous recovery. Eddie runs right passed her to your room, and uses the doorframe to propel himself in, scaring both you and Jonathan who had been sitting quietly.

You look pale, and there are bags under your eyes. But you're sporting a weak smile, shaky hands holding a cup of lime jello. Eddie can't help but smile. You're awake, sitting up, and smiling at him. He has to laugh at the like, ten empty jello packages. Jonathan slips out the door without a word, and Eddie takes his seat by your bed.

"I was so fuckin' scared," Eddie says, tears falling from his eyes before he could even process it. He hadn't realized.

You hold your hand out for him and whisper, "Eddie," and he looks up, puppy dog eyes glossy with lingering tears, and heartbreaking to see. He takes your hand. "You didn't do this."

And he cries harder, leaning down and holding your hand to his forehead and begging your forgiveness anyway. "I did," he cries, "out of spite and jealousy, I tried to hurt you, and I did. I let them leave you alone. I made them and I cheated-"

"-Eddie-"

"-and you should've seen the party-"

"-Eddie, seriously-"

"-leaving because you totally passed the, ow, hey!"

You had flicked him on the nose, his babbling giving you no other choice, but as usual he was being dramatic, you hadn't actually hurt him at all.

"Eddie, stop, and listen to me," you say, "you didn't do this. You're not actually all powerful, you know that, right?"

"But-"

"But nothing," you say, smiling. "But Nancy told me that you saved me so no hard feelings."

Eddie smiles back at you, letting you wipe the tears leftover on his flushed cheeks. He leans into your touch and your heart swells. In your mind, you beg him to kiss you. You beg and plead and hope that this will be the time he makes a move.

He knows this is his chance, he leans closer to you, slowly, gauging your reaction. "Is this okay?" he whispers, when he's just an inch from your lips. You feel his breath as he speaks and you can't resist, pushing yourself forward to close the gap. And he kisses you like he's kissed you a hundred times before. Like he already knows everything you will like, even before you do. His lips are so fucking soft against yours, all plush and warm and taking over your senses.

"Well, I guess I can tell the others that you're fine," Steve says, and Eddie pulls away from you. His sudden absence is cold.

"I saved her," Eddie says, grinning. "Nancy said so."

the hair on the back of will's neck having a disco party during this entire fic

[mvmnbnv]

possibly hot take from me as a Vi stan, but hear me out

Vi didn't need a verbal apology for being hit

again hear me out

In s1, she never gave Jinx a verbal apology for hitting her. She gave her two verbal apologies for leaving her. But you know why Vi seemed more genuine with Jinx than Cait did with her?

Her show of remorse.

Vi was the perfect example of how one, show dont tell is used, and two, where media literacy can actually be brought up. And where the scripts and what the writers say actually mattered.

When she hit powder, she immediately regretted it, when using media literacy you can see this when she looks down at her hands after she did it, and can see the blatant remorse on her face. When she hit her, she needed to get away not to hurt her again in the heat of the moment. She was determined not to hurt her again.

When she is taken away, she uses what little resources she has (which are literally nothing, just silco's goons who probably dont even know what she's talking about when it comes to "powder"). She spends seven years trying to get back to her sister to make up for what she did. To make up for calling her a jinx and for hurting her.

When she finally gets the chance she immediately apologizes. She's gentle with her sister and comforting, letting her know that everything would be okay.

When things go haywire she tells her she wouldn't abandon her again.

We see Vi ON SCREEN talk about her guilt about leaving Jinx and see her pour her heart out to Caitlyn, remorseful about what she did, and for the leaving her on the bridge (which i dont blame her for she was literally just shot at and had an injured person with her).

She once again when faced with jinx, apologizes, tells her how much she meant to her by letting her know how her time in prison was spent, and even offers to run away with her to get her away from this "monster" (who she has yet to find out Jinx had a genuine connection with) even if it meant leaving with someone who at this point she knew could kill her (she mentions to Ekko she can't promise she won't die trying to get her to change her ways).

While Vi's show of remorse in some cases are more extreme and I wouldn't advocate for them in a normal circumstances (again like not looking out for her own wellbeing when dealing with someone she knows could put her in danger or worse), it was the perfect mix of everything ppl yap about now. "you lack media literacy", "show don't tell", the works...they managed to pull all of that off with Vi last season.

If they could've done this same thing with Caitlyn, maybe my and a lot of people's attitude would be different toward her and how she treats Vi. but she literally does the complete opposite of everything listed here.

She waits for a few seconds before hitting Vi, leaves and never comes back (people point out the .3 seconds of her grimacing and go "see!? she felt bad!" but literally everything I'm about to mention points to something different), is never shown giving a fuck about her outside of what other characters say, which doesn't mean much when she can't even be bothered to treat Vi well when they are together. She assaults her again when she runs into her and insults her appearance...and is willing to physically hit her again when its not necessary. She condescends to her, telling her to "calm down for once" when Vi's rightfully upset, and still expects trust out of her and for what..? And when she is on screen all we see is that she's replaced Vi and is sleeping with someone else, and speaking of that's the only thing she does try to apologize for...not for hurting vi, not for saying shitty things to her, not for being condescending to her, for sleeping with someone else...and while Vi is away she doesn't use ANY of the unlimited resources she has to make sure she's okay. They couldn't even write her telling Vi that she hurt her...matter of fact that gloss over it and phrase it as Vi just "being away"...

It's lacking...and to try and act like ppl are just dumb for holding arcane writers to a standard they themselves set for their own show is just ridiculous.

Vi didn't need a verbal apology necessarily, she needed a thorough show of remorse...and we barely got it.

[try-set-me-on-fire]

brick BRICK please I AM ON MY KNEES i just saw the bucktommy MCD fic aldhslhdkalkabsk i know i KNOW you said you don’t have the time or purview to write it, but if you would find it within your heart to further read us into shreds in any way, shape, or form, i’d be eternally grateful

(only if you would like to, of course, and quite honestly, i’m not sure i’d be able to survive another drabble, let alone a fully fledged fic)

Alright okay I’m thinking about it too here’s a tiny thing mwah mwah

“It’s his birthday,” Buck says eventually, when the mug has stopped steaming entirely. It almost startles Eddie, the sudden sound in a quiet that felt so final. He turns off the sink, sets down the last of the dishes, joins Buck at the table. Buck’s thumb caresses up and down the side of the mug. When Eddie picks up his own, it's skin-warm. “I liked to… plan things, I like to be… organized.” A rueful smile that stops miles short of his eyes. “You’ve probably noticed at work. I’ve been told I can be a monster with a clipboard in hand.” His voice is steady enough that Eddie is pretty sure Tommy isn’t the one who ever did the telling. “And he was going to be 45 and feeling some kind of way about that so… So I, uh, had it planned already. Before- uh- b-before.”

Tommy Kinard has been dead for seven months. Eddie’s not sure he’s ever put that much forethought into anything. He enlisted after an afternoon chatting at a recruitment booth. He applied to the fire academy on impulse after he saw an ad online. “What were you…”

Buck sighs. “Camping. Up north. Rented one of those, you know, cute vintage RVs. We were going to stop a few places. Had the vacation time cleared and ready to go.” He grimaces, shrugs, his eyes wet again. “I never… canceled any of it. I probably could have got some refunds, but I just… it was too- I- I just couldn’t.” He coughs something adjacent to a laugh. “The… I picked mint green, like the toaster he- got it from his aunt, I think. Uh. For the RV. It’s probably sitting in a lot somewhere right now waiting for us.”

“Buck, I…” Eddie wants to reach out so bad his hand moves on its own accord, clumsy, catching on his mug and clattering the ceramic against the wood of the table. “If you wanted company you could have told me why, but also you- you didn’t have to come here. I-I’m sorry. I know how hard it can be to… to be around people, to talk to anybody when you’re feeling like… and special occasions just make it worse.”

Buck- laughs. A few soft snorts, through his nose, smile hitting a little closer to clear blue. “That’s the thing, Eddie. That’s the… I miss him like this every day. I wake up and- and there’s a moment before I roll over where I think- hope- what if when I turn he’ll be there smiling at me? I-I-I miss his smile so bad, I- I have pictures, t-there’s even video- our wedding- b-but- but it’s not the same-” He gasps, and his shoulders turn in again, all of him crumpling towards a center line as he covers his face with one hand, the other white knuckled around his mug. “Sorry. S-sorry.”

“No, it’s… it’s okay, Buck.” Eddie’s hand is still hovering over the table, he’d never done anything with it after his failed reach. Close the gap. Just close the gap. He doesn’t.

Buck wipes his eyes, clears his throat, straightens up again. “Sorry. It’s… it’s just a day. They’re all- they’re all going to be like this. He’s not going to be in any of them. So I just have to- I’m just going to keep going.” Another smile, still wet and wretched but genuine anyways. “Besides, I told Chris I’d be here to help. Not a promise I’m interested in breaking.”

Eddie nods, biting his tongue against the sting in his own eyes that he’s not even entirely sure the cause of. “Well, thank god. I flunked freshman bio.”

Tea sloshes over Buck’s hand with how hard his laugh rattles through him. Eddie jumps up to get a towel, and when he goes to hand it over he gets caught frozen for a moment by Buck’s amused eye contact. “Eddie.”

“Yeah?”

“I had a C+ average.”

Eddie’s not sure how they manage not to spill the rest of the mug in the outburst that follows, but it stays stubbornly upright as their laughter bounces around the kitchen cabinets, mixing together, filling the room. When Buck smiles up at him again it looks just a little easier, and Eddie thinks- he thinks he’d do a lot to make Buck’s life easy. He shakes out the towel and cleans up the tea.

[chvoswxtch]

oi, matt! can i get a macchiato? mayhaps over ice if that’s what the barista has to offer today….

matt x assistant!reader at nelson and murdock is one of my favourite flavours ever. i just neeeeed your take on it.

you know I had to kick off the celebration with this slut (works for you or matty) <3 also just so you know I could've kept going with this forever but tumblr told me to shut up bc apparently there's a word limit on answering asks but you get the picture ;)

as a reminder, over ice means it's spicy ! (minors dni)

headcannon below the cut

matt murdock is an hr nightmare

when foggy mentions that nelson & murdock could desperately use an assistant since karen is now at the bulletin, before matt even has a chance to speak, foggy is warning him to keep his dick in his pants

and when matt pulls that face (you know the one, the "she wanted to teach me" look of faux innocence) foggy reminds matt that not only is he a whore but he also has a history of being tempted by forbidden fruit (he probably fucked all the female interns at landman and zack, and then there's karen who he would've slept with if frank & elektra hadn't shown up but that's a different story for a different day)

matt does the lil "i cross my heart" thing and swears to foggy that he won't get involved with the new assistant

he also makes this promise to himself bc let's face it he's a human disaster who's life is constantly falling apart and the last thing he needs is drama that could've been avoided if he thought with the right head

but then the day of the interviews arrive and you walk in the room, and matt knows at that moment that he is completely fucked

your scent hits him first, something soft and subtle, a breath of fresh air from the stuffy office smell and the lingering assault of pungent perfume left behind by other candidates that had given him a dull headache

then it's your voice, god your voice, it's the most melodious sound he's ever heard. it's gentle but crisp, and your alluring intonation has him hanging onto your every word, especially his name that fell from your lips in greeting

touching your hand nearly does him in, bc getting to feel your smooth skin caress his rough palm makes it even worse. there's a an electric spark that tingles in his fingertips and shoots throughout the rest of his body, and he finds himself wondering if you feel it too, but then catches himself and quickly plasters on a professional appearance

it was one thing that every single thing about your existence drew him in, but the fact that you were also intelligent and well-spoken, deeply passionate and genuinely empathetic, while also quick to craft clever responses without your sharp wit coming off as ostentatious just made matt want you more

matt was uncharacteristically quiet while foggy asked most of the questions, to which you gave perfect answers, and occasionally chimed in with a few of his own just to redirect your attention where he wanted it: on him

by the end of the interview, foggy was sold on you, and so was matt, but for duplicitious reasons

matt tries so hard to keep his promise, but fuck do you make it (and him) hard. he makes a point to never be alone with you in the office. if a round at josie's is suggested, he makes sure foggy or karen will also be there. he tries to balance between being friendly while also being professional, trying to find the invisible line that crosses from innocent inquisitions to dangerous territory

he does his best not to initiate physical contact, which proves to be difficult, bc you're a hugger and always politely offering matt your arm to guide him whenever you go anywhere

you're so kind and thoughtful and treat him the exact way you treat everyone else and it makes him want to put his head through a wall bc every day that he spends with you makes this attraction worse and worse and he can't tell if it's purely physical or if it goes deeper than that

and then one day he just fucking snaps

matt has a really bad day. a lead he'd been working on for weeks ended up being a dead end, and matt had taken his frustration out on some petty thug in an alley, but it wasn't enough. he'd woken up on the wrong side of the bed, late at that, to a handful of voicemails from a pissed off foggy. it had been a grueling day in court, all of his senses were overwhelmed, and he had so much pent up tension in his body that he felt stiff

he was so wrapped up in himself that when he walked through the door of the office, he didn't realize he'd broken his own rule: never be alone with you

as soon as he realizes his mistake, he heads towards his office, returning your polite greeting with a grunt of acknowledgement. he hoped that you'd leave it alone, that you'd say something like you were just about to leave, and he'd be spared from you coming closer. but you being you, noticing every little detail and having learned to read matt, could tell something was off

you just wanted to help. you always just wanted to help, and matt loved that about you, but right now, it was only making this more difficult for him bc his self restraint was deteriorating

and then you gently touched his shoulder and matt let out a groan bc he could smell what you'd done the night previously. the scent of your arousal was still embedded in your skin even though you'd washed your hands several times, and the scent of soap was almost nonexistent as matt's nose focused solely on the delectable scent of your pussy on your own fingers

he'd made himself come many times to the thought of you over the last few months, but knowing that you'd fingered yourself last night possibly to the thought of him is what broke his resolve

matt didn't need his heightened senses to know you were attracted to him, that you felt something for him too. he knew it because he knew you, and sometimes you were obvious even when you thought you were being subtle for the sake of both your friendship and your professional reputation

before either of you could process what was happening, matt was devouring your mouth in a heated kiss, your blouse was halfway unbuttoned, just enough for him to pull down the cups of your bra to leave your tits spilling into his welcoming hands. your soft whimpers echoed around the empty office as he toyed with your nipples while assaulting your neck with his teeth and tongue

in record time you were bent over his desk, skirt bunched up around your hips, panties caught around your calves, and matt was pulling down his zipper to free his fully hard cock

the immense relief he felt as he sank into you fully from behind nearly brought him to his knees. he didn't know if it was the heightened allure of having something he wasn't supposed to, or how perfectly your tight cunt enveloped his thick cock, but he quickly got lost in your warm walls like a dazzling labyrinth he never wanted to escape

you were so fucking wet that it was obscene the noises your pussy made welcoming his cock as he pounded into you over and over and over again. but his favorite sound was you chanting his name, desperately pleading for more, which he was all too happy to oblige

you took him so well, your pussy enveloping his cock in a greedy manner, not allowing him the chance to slip out despite how soaked you were. he reached as deep as your body would allow and fucked you relentlessly like a madman on a mission

his rough hands gripped your hips in a bruising manner, and he was completely lost in a fog of lust. it didn't take long for either of you to come undone and it finally clicked for matt that he wasn't the only one that had been depriving himself for the sake of not crossing a boundary when your cunt tightened around his cock before flooding him with your release

matt waited until the absolute last possible second, swiftly pulling out with a hiss as he replaced your pussy with his right hand, stroking his cock at an inhuman speed just a few times before coating your ass in ropes of his come

he collapsed in his chair, but not without wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you down with him. the sound of heavy panting filled his office, and the air was humid and drenched in the scent of sex. matt nuzzled his face into your neck, hugging your back to his chest while the two of you attempted to catch your breath

he's able to pick up on the fact that your heart is still racing not bc of the incredible spontaneous sex, but also out of anxiety about what happens next, so matt decides to break the silence first

"I uh...know this is kinda backwards but, I was wondering if I could take you to dinner?"

in conclusion, he's a fucking menace