#his protective instincts come out every now and then and at his core he looks out for those around him. now he gets to try again

[candiedfright]

no matter what you do don't think about the fact that ryuu has to be a protector again years after said role was taken from him when he lost his friends in the slums

[mallowsweetmiri]

Remus Lupin x Potter!Reader

Part 2 • Part 3

Summary: the boys try to guess who Remus is seeing after finding a pink bow tied to one of his bookmarks

Warning: oral fem receiving

—————————————————————————

Remus couldn’t help but to fall in love with you. You’d always been sweet, always too pure for this world. When you were kids, he couldn’t help but want to protect you. It was in all the boys instincts to protect their best friend’s little sister. But as you got older, you and Remus began to spend time together without James. Your relationship truly started last summer at Potter Manor, when you and Remus started an unofficial book club when the boys would play quidditch for hours outside. You guys just had so much in common, and you were more comfortable being around Remus than any other boy besides James. So the two of you spent a lot of time in the library, reading books together and getting into heated debates about writing styles. It didn’t take long for his eyes to wander to your lips when you smiled at him, and it didn’t take long for you to notice. Before you knew it, the two of you were sneaking off to your room while the boys played quidditch, and locking the door behind you.

So that’s how Remus found himself with his face buried between your thighs in the middle of lunch hour. You’d been reading a novel with his head in your lap, innocently trying to finish your chapter before class. But Remus couldn’t constrain himself. He didn’t care if you had class in twenty minutes, you could go with your cunt pooling under your skirt.

“Remi,” you whined, pulling his hair into a fist. He hummed into your core, fingers massaging your thighs as you clenched around his head.

“Shh, be a good girl and let me finish,” he said hastily, before diving back into your folds. He let his tongue ruin you as you squirmed on his bed. Your shirt was bunched up now, buttons undone and tits pulled out of your bra. Remus chuckled as he thrust two fingers into you. He loved seeing you come undone. You were always perfect, also so innocent. It made Remus hard thinking about being your first, being the only one to make you come. He ground himself down into the mattress as he felt you begin to tighten up under his tongue. He almost told you to be quiet but his mouth was occupied. You shuddered and let out a whiny moan as you came onto his mouth. He grabbed onto your waist as he kissed your cunt and drank every drop you gave him. As you began to relax, he brought himself over you, littering you body with kisses.

“Rem,” you chuckled, “now you made yourself all worked up.” You grabbed hold of him under his pants. He was rock hard and it made your pussy throb just thinking about it inside you. He chuckled and kissed you.

“I’m saving it for you later. Wanna go on an adventure tonight?” Remus smirked, rubbing his thumb on your hip. You nodded eagerly. You wished you could just come to his dorm at night but it wasn’t exactly possible considering your brother slept three feet away from Remus.

“What time is it?” You asked, suddenly remembering you had class. Remus looked at his watch and sucked through his teeth.

“Uh, time for you to go love,” Remus chuckled as he watched you scramble out of his bed and fix your clothes.

“Remus! I told you I was going to be late, ” you scolded him, grabbing your bag and hurriedly putting your tie on. He only chuckled and gave you a kiss on the head as you ran out the door. He took his time getting ready for his class, which involved having a smoke until his dick got soft again. Remus spent the rest of the day in class thinking about you, daydreaming about how you would look tonight when he fucked you. Like a ghost wandering the castle halls, Remus brought himself back up to the dorm after his last class, immediately wanting to have another smoke. James and Sirius were already by the window when he came in.

“There he is Pads,” James chuckled, ashing his cig on the window sill, “go on and ask him.” Sirius’ brows were furrowed and he looked quite mad. Remus was confused until he saw your book in his hand.

“And what the fuck is this?” Sirius asked, shoving the book into Remus’ chest. Remus felt his heartbeat speed up. He was never one to enjoy lying.

“My book, you prat,” Remus quipped, nodding his head towards James to pass him a smoke. James looked thoroughly amused. Sirius let out a sarcastic laugh.

“Your book my ass! What is this then?” Sirius held up your bookmark decorated with a cute little pink bow, just like the one you wore in your hair. Remus was glad that James wasn’t the brightest because anyone who spent time with you knew you loved to tie your hair up with that exact shade of pink. Okay, maybe only Remus noticed, but he couldn’t help that you looked absolutely adorable with it.

“Erm, a bookmark,” Remus tried to play it off, focusing more on his smoke than looking either of the boys in the face. He’d been dreading James finding out, and wanted the right moment to do so. When you were ready to tell him.

“Yeah we can see that,” James laughed again, “but who’s the girl?”

Remus’ heart sank into his stomach. Fuck. James had her same smile, her eyes too. He couldn’t lie to his best friend, especially when it was his little sister he’d been fucking.

“I, um,” Remus choked on his words. Sirius squinted his eyes in scrutiny.

“I knew you’d been acting strange! All happy recently, I knew you had to have been getting some,” Sirius grumbled.

“No, no. It’s not like that,” Remus said quickly, unable to stop himself. It truly wasn’t like that, he was head over heels for you. You were so much more than a fuck to him, even if he did think about fucking you all day long. James eyes lit up.

“Moony, are you in love?” He clapped hands together and smiled, “why didn’t you tell us? Remus! Who is she?” James was positively beaming with excitement now, looking to Sirius who looked a mixture of confusion and suspicion.

“She doesn’t want anyone to know,” Remus cleared his throat, placing your book down on his bed. This was the truth at least. She didn’t want James knowing, mostly because she presumed he would be insanely controlling over their relationship. Remus wasn’t sure she would be wrong about that.

“But, we won’t tell anyone. We won’t, right Sirius?” James pleaded. Sirius rolled his eyes and nodded in agreement. Remus just chuckled uncomfortably and loosened his tie. He felt like he was choking in there.

“Sorry guys, I can’t break the ladies trust,” Remus turned away from the boys and started to change, effectively shutting down the conversation. Now, both Sirius and James were grumbling to themselves, unhappy with their lack of gossip. Remus let out a breath. That was the first time you two had slipped up. You’d have to be more careful.

“Well, if you seriously won’t tell us,” James sighed dramatically, “do you want to go get dinner?” Remus laughed and agreed, happy to spend time with the boys not thinking about his terribly kept secret. The three of them waltzed down to the great hall, making loud and obnoxious jokes at any opportunity they could find. Remus wasn’t quite sure how you and James were related sometimes, you seemed years older in maturity. Once they reached the Gryffindor table, the boys immediately sat out and began to grub. A few minutes in, James eyes lit up towards the entrance hall.

“Hi, Y/N,” James smiled and waved with food in his mouth. Remus heard you chuckle.

“Hi, Jamsie. You’re disgusting,” you stuck your tongue out at James as you passed by the boys. Remus turned around just enough to see your beautiful face and your perfect hair tied up with a pink bow. Shit. In the split second that Remus had before he turned to face James, he prayed to any and every god he could think of, hoping that James hadn’t noticed your bow. His reddening face and clenched jaw told Remus that he had, in fact, noticed. Sirius looked dumbstruck, shaking his head slowly at you as James stood up from the table.

“Y/N. Come here right now,” James growled, causing multiple heads at the table to turn. You stopped smiling and looked between James and Remus. Oh fuck.

[thenightwolf51]

"Danny was born a Wayne" AU except he's Bruce's grand uncle. The result of a one time drunken affair, shortly before Kenneth Wayne's death, to a young unmarried woman who gave the baby up for adoption.

(Whether the Fenton's, and therefore Amity, were just ahead of their times or the DC timeline is shifted a bit so that DP happens in its cannon era is up to you. Dealers choice, though now that i know about her i just love badass widowed prohibition leader Laura Elizabeth Wayne)

Danny grows up knowing hes adopted and loved by the Fentons but something (dealer's choice) happens and he loses his family and friends (maybe the whole town goes too?). In an attempt to avoid a Dan situation he flees into the Infinite Realm and doesn't stop.

He just wanders, time passes in its weird Realms way, not that Danny truly notices. A protector spirit thats lossed everything it protected. Its a wonder he doesn't fade and he actually might've if it wasn't for his human side.

But its a tug at his core that brings him from his near catatonic wandering. Gone before he can even understand it but enough to shake him back to himself. Enough to know that hes nowhere near ready to go anywhere familiar so he continues on, his wandering no less pointless but at least he's aware again.

What feels like a relatively short time later he gets another tug, and this time he manages to follow it.

He follows it invisibly through a natural portal that drops him somewhere in New Jersey and all the way to a fancy hospital room in the gloomiest city he's ever seen.

In there he sees his half brother Patrick Wayne, though he wont figure out their connection for a few more years, holding little Agatha. She's adorable in her little dress and pigtails and her sweet face causes that familiar tug he recognizes from what must have been six years ago given the girls age.

Then a nurse comes in and hands a little bundle to what must be the mother (whos name i cant find) and Danny takes one look at the little core tugger who brought him here and just melts. Even without knowing yet that this is his last remaining family, his instincts latch on and he vows to protect and care for the Waynes.

And he does.

He finds his forgetful brother's documents and keeps Aggy company when everyone else is busy and soothes baby Thomas so his poor sister-in-law can get some more sleep. He ices fevers and bruised knees and helps on later games of hide and seek.

He very rarely becomes visible and only to the children. His grief over the Fenton's convinces him its better to protect his new family from the shadows.

Danny explores every inch of the manor, including secret passages and an underground cave system. He claims a forgotten room in the back of the attic as his own, which over the years fill up with knickknacks, heirlooms, and pictures of the family. Even a gift or two from Agatha, who hadn't stopped believing in their shadowy guardian like her brother did when Danny felt they were too old to see him without drawing suspicion.

The manor becomes his haunt and he always knows where each family member is within it. And when any guests have some no good intentions.

And when baby Bruce is born tugging at his core and with the bluest little eyes, he welcomes the fussy little thing. And makes sure dear Martha never knows just how fussy baby Bruce really is, otherwise she might've never had a full nights sleep.

Danny blames himself for not being there when Thomas and Martha die, and promises to never leave Bruces side, practically becoming the boy's living shadow. Watching over him as he gets older, secretly aiding him in his training. Danny feels a bit of pride when Bruce takes some inspiration from the old stories Thomas told him of the shadowy Wayne family protector when creating his Batman identity, glad his nephew still remembers him even if he hasn't shown himself since the now young man was six.

Danny continues to protect and care for the family in a variety of ways over the years even as the family grows.

Lightening Alfred's workload, softening Dick's falls, calming Jason's temper both pre and post pit, hiding Tim's coffee when the boy hasn't slept in far too long, providing plenty of shadows and hiding nooks for Cass, helping Damian hide the litter of kittens he found.

And no one seems to know he's there, except maybe Cass and he's pretty sure Alfred has been know since he first started working for the family. No one knows, that is, until Duke Thomas moves in and lookes right at him watching invisibly from the sidelines.

(@omnicrafts @dcxdpdabbles @hdgnj @ailithnight @nelkcats @im-totally-not-an-alien-2 i dont know, the main point of all this is that Danny's been protecting the Wayne family for decades and no one, except maybe Alfred, knew until Duke moved in)

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached - Part 13

First | Masterlist

Ship: Dead on Main (Danny/Jason)  Fandom: DP x DC Summary:

Danny is just trying to build a portal home, becoming a thief was just an unfortunate side effect of that goal. Now if only this vigilante family would just leave him alone. Especially Red Hood - the semi retired crime lord whose ghost-like presence keeps drawing Danny to him.

Warning! This chapter is pretty rough (I think), please check the tags for triggers before reading if you have worries. Part 13:

The plan had gone off without a hitch. The Ghost had been noticeably distracted ever since Tim had asked Jason to sit their attempts to capture him out. He’d been very grateful though that it hadn’t taken long for the Ghost to appear again in Gotham’s industrial area. Jason only had so much patience. 

Thanks to Babs’ newly upgraded cameras they’d had warning and time for everyone to get together. 

Herding the Ghost to their trap had been a cinch with him only getting away from them a few times. 

The trap was set in a dead-end alley near the power plant which had power lines running through the ground underneath. They were insulated so he wouldn’t sense them. They would only be a problem if he tried to phase through them.

The Ghost froze in place as the trap came to life with electricity every wall covered with the net. It wasn’t just electrified wire it was meant to create arcs of electricity. It needed to be visible, it needed to stop their quarry in place. Tim didn’t actually want to electrocute the guy if he could help it. 

Dick jumped down to land beside Tim and Damian, his escrima sticks ready. 

The Ghost swung around, taking everything in. Then he started to sink through the ground. It was the moment Tim had been waiting for. Everything hinged on this one theory being true; that he wasn’t just afraid of electricity, but that it would stop him from phasing through. He jumped back up with a startled yelp. 

As he turned to face them mouth a thin pressed line, Tim couldn’t help the grin of a well-executed plan.

“Gotcha.”

Finally they could get to the bottom of this! But no! Tim’s instinct warned him before his brain even registered what was happening. Something about the Ghost’s posture had changed; he was looking up, tensing his body for something. 

No!

Tim fumbled for the button, his last ditch attempt even as Dick and Damian sprung forward recognizing the look of someone about to fly. He’d tossed the EMP device earlier in the night and it had attached to the Ghost’s back. He pushed the button now. 

But the Ghost was already flying having taken off like a rocket. There was a half second delay and Tim realized with horror that even if the electromagnetic pulse did anything the Ghost was in the air. 

If it did anything he would fall. 

Oo o oO

There was a pulse like a wave of static and then Danny was dropping. 

Desperately confused he reached for his powers. Flight was as easy as breathing. Gravity was a mere suggestion. Or it should be! Nothing was happening and the roof below was coming rapidly up to meet him!

In reality it only lasted two seconds, but it felt like a terrifying eternity. His arms and legs moved uselessly; without his powers he had no control.

At the last moment he pushed his arms out. His right hand landed first, there was a sharp pain in his wrist before he curled up and rolled over his shoulder, landing on his back. Air punched out of his chest in a wheeze.

His eyes were wide staring sightlessly up at the clouds as he tried to suck air into his stunned body. He needed to get away before they found him. His core was an agitated scream in his chest. But no matter what he did, he couldn’t sink through the roof. 

He rolled up onto his knees with a pained groan, holding his right wrist protectively against his chest. Terror gripped his throat in a vice grip as he pressed his left hand flat on the concrete. He had to focus. Breathe, if he could just take a moment without panicking, he was certain he’d make his powers work. His core felt normal in his chest, they hadn’t suppressed him, not like Vlad did that one time. Frustrated tears pricked his eyes, he clenched his eyes shut, forced himself to take a deep slow breath. If he just found his calm, if he just focused…

There was not even the suggestion of any give. The roof was solid. 

Danny was solid.

There was a clatter and the high pitched whine of several grappling hooks reeling in. Danny’s head snapped up at the sound, eyes wide. He scrambled clumsily to his feet - his body felt so heavy, and his aching legs protested having to lift him.  

They gathered in a half circle around him on their near silent feet - the bats, towering shadows to his blurred eyes. Blood rushed in his ears.

Danny took a step back, barred his teeth in a snarl. 

“Don’t come closer,” he warned, the implied threat was a lie. He couldn’t do anything. He was powerless, weak as a kitten. It would be no trouble for them to capture him. But worse if they could neutralize his powers, they could hold him. Danny took another step back. 

His breath came in short, punched out huffs. Cold sweat made his hair and clothes sticky. Shadows lined in harsh white light leaned over him. Agony- No! Danny shook his head, he was not there. He stepped back, the back of his knees hit a low railing.

He would never go back. 

He turned and jumped.

Oo o oO

Tim didn’t hear any sounds but the blood rushing in his ears. He hadn’t expected the sheer panic the Ghost would have. None of them had. Not even the goggles had been able to obscure how terrified he was. His voice, the first time they’d ever heard him speak, had been thin and shaky, a hollow warning to not come closer. What was he so afraid of? They hadn’t come closer and yet-

Tim felt ill. What did he think they’d do to him, that he’d rather jump off the roof?! 

Jason had been right. He needed help. And now-

The others stood at the edge of the roof. Nobody was moving. Did that mean it was too late? There was nothing to be done?

Numbly, Tim walked up to the edge and looked down. For a moment he saw nothing, but then he caught movement further away, a flash of red- relief hit Tim in a whooshed out breath that left him weak-kneed. Jason had caught him. Tim turned around and sunk down to sit back against the railing.

He hadn’t even known Jason was out here. He must have turned off his tracker. Fuck, he was so relieved Jason had been there. 

He buried his head in his shaking hands. This was on him, his plan. 

His earlier exhilarated satisfaction of a well-executed plan was crumbled and soured, heavy in the pit of his stomach like lead. His gut turned ominously. If he threw up, it would be deserved, he thought despondently.

Oo o oO

Jason went on the Bats’ comm channel only to bark at them not to follow him. With Ghost in his arms shaking and breathing too fast and too superficial, covered in the cold sweat of terror, Jason didn’t want to know what he would do if they did follow him. 

He ran across the rooftops and used the grapple when necessary. The safehouse wasn’t too far away. 

There was utter silence from that sense where Jason usually heard Ghost’s call to him. It should be a relief not to hear his yearning and be unable to do anything about it, but it just felt wrong. Like something was missing.

Jason held him closer.

“It’s gonna be okay, I’ve got you.” The words were useless, he knew that. Ghost had to be running from him for a reason even as he called for him - and Jason could understand why he’d been running from him, Jason was wrong inside, but Ghost was his only hope, and he couldn’t not chase. Right now the words were all he had, and he couldn’t let the others take him. They didn’t understand that he needed help. 

Jason’s anger over what had happened tonight was only eclipsed by his worry. Ghost might be afraid of Jason too, but not like this, not silenced by terror.

Jason repeated his useless assurances as he ran. Ghost was much too light in his arms, too thin beneath the worn clothing. Irrational fear that he would turn to dust in his arms, seized him. 

“You’re gonna be okay.” He said as much to reassure himself as Ghost.

“Please,” Ghost rasped voice unused.

Jason froze, stopping in place, hoping he’d say more. He didn’t. He pushed uselessly at Jason’s chest, still trying to escape. Jason’s heart broke. Frustrated tears pricked at his eyes.

“Please let me help you,” he pleaded. 

Jason didn’t know if his words had gotten through to him or it was just exhaustion, but he stopped struggling. Cynically, Jason leaned towards exhaustion. At this point panic and fear had to be the only thing keeping him conscious at all.

They arrived at the safehouse finally. 

It was one the others didn’t know about. Jason had a few of those as insurance. It was seemingly just a lived-in apartment, open floor plan living room and kitchen in one with artfully placed clutter, a couple of bedrooms and a bathroom. There were weapons and supplies hidden in the spaces between the real walls and the fake walls that appeared to be the apartment’s boundaries, but you’d only realize that if you checked another of the similar units in the building and noticed this one was smaller. 

Jason landed them on the sill, and worked the window open. He didn’t bother with traps, because he didn’t use it often. Using it would have been a sure way to tip off the bats of its existence. No, this and other’s like it was for emergencies, and sometimes when he needed to stash a victim or witness somewhere safe temporarily. And even if someone should try to burgle the place, Jason had some decoy money there, a large flatscreen TV and some other easily taken electronics. It was unlikely they’d find the real supplies when there were easier money. 

He maneuvered them both inside, set Ghost on the couch and closed the window and the drapes. He pulled off his helmet and set it carelessly on the coffee table - it rolled off to land on the floor. Ghost had already seen his face and hopefully, he’d respond better to a human than a mask. 

Moving slowly, trying to make himself less threatening he kneeled down on the floor in front of where Ghost had curled up in the corner of the couch.

“Hey,” Jason said trying to sound calm, when inside he was everything but. He held out his hands in peace. “I’m not doing anything, I just want to talk.”

The emotionless goggles turned towards him. Jason got nothing from him, he only had the defensive body language to read him by.

“Please say something.”

Finally something happened, Ghost’s breath hitched and he reached up to push the goggles away. His eyes were red rimmed and blurry, and they closed as he rubbed at them. Still hiding his eyes he whispered so low Jason almost didn’t hear him, “-just want to go home.”

Jason lowered his hands and slumped forward. Letting him go would be the right thing to do, Jason could argue all the way till Sunday that it wasn’t safe for him right now, with his powers out of order, but that wasn’t why Jason couldn’t promise to let him go. He desperately needed answers. How did he make the pit silent? Was it just him or was there hope for Jason?

“I have questions,” he admitted.

Ghost slowly removed his hands. His eyes were blue and wary as he looked down at Jason. Jason held his eyes and he didn’t know what he saw in Jason as the moment stretched between them, like an elastic pulled to the point just before snapping.

Ghost looked away with a pained expression, and then, unfurling slowly, Jason felt that familiar yearning. Jason shook his head helplessly. He didn’t know what to do. He wanted to help but didn’t know what to do.

“What do you need?” Jason asked.

Ghost looked back up momentarily and then away with a grimace. Shrinking in on himself. “Hey,” Jason said, frustration made him snappy, “I’m just trying to understand! It’s like you’re calling me, but I don’t know how to answer.”

That got Ghost’s attention, and his head snapped up holding his gaze intently.

“You can feel it?” He asked, and there’s this underlying desperate hope, shoved down by a voice desperately trying to hold steady.

“I can, and I just-“ He didn’t know what else to say, instead he reached out a hand to cup Ghost’s cheek. His eyes were wide and liquid and so blue before he clenched them shut and leaned into Jason’s touch with a small whimper. Jason didn’t dare breathe, as that small hum started, the one that was like a purr. Jason’s head was silent now, the underlying anger and frustration gone. In this moment he was just Jason. 

He didn’t even realize he was crying until tears spilled over his cheeks. He ducked his head. It had been some very long weeks. 

“How are you doing this?” He whispered, desperate to know. 

“I’m not sure what you mean,” Ghost answered hesitantly. 

Jason looked up to meet his tired eyes, the dark bags underneath his eyes were so dark and stark in his thin face he looked bruised. Jason looked away. Shame curled in his gut for pushing him this far. For being helpless not to give chase. He would have pulled his hand back if Ghost hadn’t still been leaning into his touch.

Quietly, he admitted, “I have this rage inside of me, you quiet it.”

“Hmm,” Ghost hummed thoughtfully with his actual voice, as he mulled over Jason’s words. “I’m pretty useless right now without my powers, so I don’t know if it’s anything I can help with permanently.”

“Okay,” Jason said quietly. Trapped in this strange bubble of quiet, desperate to break it he asked, “Do you wanna talk about what happened on the rooftop?”

The purring came to a stuttering halt. 

“That’s a no then,” Jason stated. Of course he didn’t want to talk about that, that should have gone without saying. Stupid. He sighed and stood up, drawing his hand back along with it.

“I’m just getting on the couch,” he assured when Ghost protested wordlessly. He sat down leaning heavily into the plush couch. After a moment he lifted his arm in invite. It took five long seconds before Ghost tucked himself underneath the arm. Jason squeezed him momentarily in a pitiful attempt at comfort, but it was all he could do. 

It took a moment but the purr started up again. The feeling of contentment washed over him.

Jason didn’t know how long he sat there, letting Ghost’s purr soothe his frayed mind, but he sat there so long he started to feel the temptation to just close his eyes and sleep. That wasn’t helpful. Ghost himself had fallen asleep at some point, he discovered, as he shifted and found him blinking awake startled. 

The purring stopped. Wary eyes watched him as he moved away.

“Easy,” Jason said lowly as if he actually was trying to soothe a feral cat, “I’m just gonna check to see what food options we have.” 

He watched until Ghost leaned back into the couch. His eyes were mere slits watching Jason when he turned towards the kitchen. 

Ghost needed to eat and making food was definitely more useful than falling asleep. He walked over to the cupboards, and couldn’t help but yawn as he did so. He opened the cupboards one by one, searching for something easy. A lot of the things here had technically expired and were mostly there for appearance sake. The dried herbs and spices, had probably lost most of their flavor, so actually cooking was out of the question, not to mention he didn’t have fresh ingredients here, but one of the canned soups would probably do fine. 

He turned, tomato soup can in hand to ask if that was fine only to find the couch empty. Carefully he set the can down, so he wasn’t tempted to throw it. His hand clenched into a fist reflexively with no can to hold. He walked over to the living room side of the room, just to make sure he hadn’t just moved. 

He wasn’t there.

He was gone.

Jason sighed and sat down heavily on the couch. Of course he was.

Nothing had been disturbed, not the drapes nor the windows. Everything was exactly as Jason had left it. His powers must have returned. Whatever Tim had done hadn’t been that long lasting, a couple of hours at most. He would have simply gone right through the wall.

Of course he had left as soon a he had a chance. Jason hadn’t given him reason to stay. He’d had his chance to talk and he’d wasted it just sitting and basking in his presence.

He leaned his forehead on his hands and pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. 

He only had himself to blame.

-

So this happened... this is better/worse? At least they got to hug?

Anyways, I think I may go back to shorter tumblr parts now that these two chapters are done (if you're curious this is chapter 7 and 8 in my doc and that's what they'll be on Ao3). The last chapter really couldn't be split and this chapter only had terrible places to split it. Better to end on sad Jason.

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Update: next

[footballffbarbiex]

player: virgil van dijk (ft trent alexander arnold) type: kinda smutty. kinda fluffy. request: The reader being Trent’s sister maybe she a couple of years younger too, and he’s protective over her and she’s sneaking around with virg, and at every moment they are always making out or somthing.

_

"Where you going?" trent asks from where he lays on the couch.

you thought you'd tiptoed downstairs quiet enough but it seems his hearing is better than you thought. "out," you reply, already hugging your arms over your chest instinctively.

"no shit sherlock," he says, expression changing to a stern one as he pads out of the lounge and towards where you stand, phone slipping back into his pocket as he does so as it makes an audible sound for it locking too. "I asked where you were going. and don't -" he cuts you off as you open your mouth to give him a vague answer, "give me some crap about 'just going out'."

"you know I'm only a few years younger than you right? I don't need to explain myself. I'm not a kid anymore," you mutter then instantly regret it. you know Trent's intentions are good, but you also realise that he's constantly having to look out for his own image too. whatever you do, it reflects on him and the way he arches his eyebrows as he stares you down is something else. Trent's not dumb, despite what people may think, and you know he's onto you. it's almost like he can smell him on you.

"I know. I just...you're being careful right? I don't want to see you get hurt."

"trust me T, you'd be the first to know."

-

the feeling of guilt almost choked you as you walked away from the house and though you try to rationalise that you weren't actually lying to him, you couldn't deny that you were certainly hiding something from him. trent had never explicitly asked "are you dating one of my teammates?" and so you hadn't held anything back but it still felt as though you were lying to his face every time you snuck away.

would he understood if you told him? you didn't think so. there were almost 10 year between you both and if trent was worried about you dating someone who is your age, how would he react to who is hooking up with his lil sister? yeah. there was very much a reason the two of you weren't being open.

You're lost in thought, walking and talking while acting on autopilot. You're still not fully taking anything in until you hear the car beep and you snap out of your trance like state. there's no need to see the license plate or the driver to know who it is. opening the door, his aftershave immediately fills your nose and your core clenches at the thought of being near him.

cautiousness has you looking around instinctively before you climb in and take your spot next to him.

"you took your time." comes the deep voice from the drivers side. he waits until you've put on your seatbelt before he leans over for a kiss, one that you happily accept. the moment your lips touch, butterflies erupt within your belly and you feel the smile that's manipulating his mouth.

"and yet you wasted none," you comment when he allows you to pull away for a second. it's the fastest sentence you've spoken in a while before his large hand cups the back of your head, pulling your face and mouth back to his. there's the very tip of his tongue searching for yours to momentarily deepen the kiss and you feel a second pulse developing down south when you remember just how good he is with his tongue.

"how long do you have before he's messaging you?"

"you make it sound like I'm cheating on him." you chuckle to yourself as he grins. "but I'll give it a few hours."

"I'll make sure you get back before he leaves for training then. I do want you to stay over soon though." he tells you as he starts the car and pulls away from where he'd parked.

"how much do you want that?" you find yourself asking out loud rather than keeping it to yourself, though part of you is kicking yourself for putting it out there. but you've asked it now, so you keep your eyes ahead and don't turn to look at him, even though you can see him looking at you from the corner of your eyes.

"enough to want to give you space in my bathroom cabinet for your lil toothbrush and a drawer for your things in the bedroom."

"just a drawer?" you ask, facing him now as you give him a smile while hoping that he can't tell just how much your heart is pounding against your ribcage with such force, you can feel it in your eardrums.

"you'll get everything once I can drop you on your driveway myself without worry."

"you scared of my big brother?" the thought amuses you tremendously.

"pffft. not scared scared. I could still pick trent up and throw him over my shoulder." your gaze drops to where his hand sits on the bottom of the steering wheel, and the other lays in his lap. there's something strangely arousing at the casualness of it all. "but it would make things difficult for you. I don't want that." you can hear that he's talking. you've listened to the words and are momentarily touched by his concern for you, but it quickly fades away as you focus on his fingers. "are you ok, baby?" he asks but it sounds as though you're under water and his words are fuzzy to your ears.

"hmmm?" you half ass ask him.

he looks down, trying to see what's got your attention in such a way and gives a laugh that's as dirty as the thoughts running through his mind. "you're going to make this hard for me to leave you and go to training."

you shift your body in the seat, turning to face him as you lean forward a little. "might see what I can do then" you begin as you shimmy forward a little more, lips connecting with his neck before rubbing over his earlobe, "about getting an overnight bag. I might have to stay at my friend's tonight..."

"there's no maybe about it. you're staying tonight. start thinking of your excuses, have a nap while I'm gone because you're going to be tired tomorrow."

[rosevette]

·.༄࿔ TAKE ME TO PARIS part 2. my mlist

𝒋𝒐𝒉𝒏 𝒘𝒊𝒄𝒌 & 𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒒𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝒅𝒆 𝒈𝒓𝒂𝒎𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

💋ྀིྀི résumé : the gifts won’t stop, along with john’s paranoia. he won’t even let you out of the hotel.

1.6k words + tags : dumb, ‘naive’ !reader, manipulation, fantasizing, smut, age gap, pet names, fingering, slight non-con, evil intent, brat-taming⭑

୭ৎ … im so sorry yall had to wait so long for this, but im finally finished !! more chapters to come, and I hope you enjoy…if there are any error, ignore! (part 1 here) - sincerely, rose

DAYS PASSED, and John's concern only seemed to intensify. He hovered nearby constantly, his watchful gaze never leaving your side, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive. The gifts from Marquis didn’t stop either, a jewelry a day.

At first, you found John’s behavior endearing, a testament to his unwavering dedication to keeping you safe. But as time wore on, his constant vigilance began to chafe, leaving you feeling suffocated by his overbearing presence.

"I'm just going for a walk, John," you protested, attempting to slip past him as he stood guard by the hotel entrance.

His grip tightened on your arm, his eyes flashing with undisguised worry. "I can't let you out of my sight, not with him out there," he insisted, his tone firm and resolute.

Frustration bubbled up inside you as you shook off his hold, refusing to be caged like some delicate bird.

"I'm not a child, John. I can take care of myself," you snapped, storming towards the door, before the brooding man stopped you and held his position in front of the door.

“I said no.”

His voice was cold, you were getting on his nerves. Paranoid or not, he couldn’t let you go outside.

“Don’t make me repeat myself, my patience has already been thrown out the window.” He glared at you, you could tell he wasn’t joking, but you just can’t help but to talk back.

“You’re such a brute. You can’t keep me here fore—“ You widened your eyes, feeling a hand read gently on your mouth. Fluttering your eyelashes to John’s gaze, your face flushed, your eyebrows narrowing.

“Stop being a brat.” He murmured, his words slipping smoothly through his lips.

Before you knew it, his body already pressed against yours firmly, his weight leaning you against the flat surface of the wall, secluded in your room.

“I’m just looking out for you, is that so hard to understand?”

As John pressed you against the decorative wallpaper, his firm grip sending shivers down your spine, you couldn't help but feel a rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins. His proximity ignited a fire within you, stirring desires that had long lain dormant.

With a defiant smirk, you met his intense gaze head-on, the heat of his breath mingling with yours as you leaned in closer, the tension crackling between you like electricity.

"You're not my keeper, John," you countered, your voice laced with equal parts defiance and desire. "I can take care of myself."

But before you could utter another word, John's lips crashed against yours, his kiss fierce and demanding, leaving you breathless and dizzy with longing. His hands roamed your body with a possessive urgency, igniting a fierce hunger deep within your core.

“Do you understand what no means?” He leaned back, scoffing at your flushed state. Now turning your body around to face him, his eyes trailed your body top to bottom, your heart pacing, knowing what was next.

With a gasp, you melted into him, your resistance crumbling beneath the weight of his passion. Every touch, every caress sent waves of pleasure coursing through you, building to a fever pitch that threatened to consume you whole.

It didn’t take long until you felt his hands start to trail up your silk dress, his hand could be seen rubbing along your thighs through the thin fabric. Each whimper you gave was met with a smirk from John, only fueling his ego.

“Seems like this brat is already so wet for me. Is this what you wanted? To push my buttons to end up like this?”

Your breath hitched as John’s hands explored the curves of your body, sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you with every teasing touch. His words, though laced with arrogance, only served to stoke the flames of your desire, igniting a primal need that begged to be sated.

With a low whimper, you arched into his touch, unable to deny the intoxicating effect he had on you. “N-No I didn’t mean to I…,” you murmured, your voice dripping with seduction as you trailed your fingers along the contours of his chest.

The tension between you crackled with raw intensity, each touch, each whispered word fueling the inferno of passion that raged between you. Lost in the heat of the moment, his fingers eventually met contact with your wet folds, a moan slipping past your lips.

“J-John..” you croaked, squinting.

“I told you there would be punishments for your behavior.” You couldn’t even reply back in time when he had slipped a finger inside your wet hole, gasping into the air. A few pumps from his digits already made you a moaning mess.

Your words caught in your throat as John’s touch sent waves of pleasure crashing over you, rendering you speechless as ecstasy washed over you in dizzying waves. His fingers, skilled and knowing, delved deeper into your core, igniting a firestorm of desire that threatened to consume you whole.

Every pump, every stroke sent you spiraling closer to the edge, your moans echoing in the air as you surrendered yourself to the overwhelming pleasure that John bestowed upon you. His touch was like a drug, intoxicating and addictive, leaving you craving more with each passing moment.

He smirked, eventually pulling his fingers away to bring to his mouth, tasting you. You widened your eyes, wondering why he stopped as jaw hung open, your poor cunt soaked and wanting more.

John’s smirk only deepened as he savored the taste of your arousal on his fingers, his gaze locked with yours as he drank in your reaction with undisguised satisfaction. Your widened eyes and parted lips spoke volumes, your confusion and desire swirling together in a heady mix that only fueled his own arousal.

“Such a sweet little thing,” he murmured, his voice dripping with sinful promise as he leaned in close, his breath hot against your ear. “You want more, don’t you?” He laughed wickedly. This was your punishment. He wasn’t going to continue, he was going to make you wait for it.

He scoffed, leaving you breathless and aching for more as he reveled in the power he held over you. Your body throbbed with need, every nerve on edge as you craved his touch like a drug.

“Clean yourself up, darling,” he said casually, as if nothing out of the ordinary had just transpired between you.

Confusion and frustration warred within you as you struggled to make sense of his abrupt change in demeanor. Had it all been a game to him? A cruel joke at your expense?

With trembling hands, you gathered your wits about you, forcing yourself to stand on shaky legs as you attempted to compose yourself. But the memory of his touch lingered like a fever dream, leaving you reeling in its wake.

Now stepping out of the steaming shower, you sighed to yourself, thinking back to John’s advances just an hour ago. You should’ve known he had a trick up his sleeve just to toy with you.

Before you could dwell on the thought any longer, your phone rang, startling you out of your reverie. Glancing at the caller ID, you frowned in confusion at the unfamiliar number. Hesitantly, you answered, bringing the phone to your ear.

"Bonjour, ma chérie," a smooth voice purred from the other end, sending a chill down your spine.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything." Recognition dawned on you as you realized who was calling. "Marquis," you greeted evenly, masking the tremor in your voice. “How did you find my number…”

"Ah, I know a guy," he replied, his voice dripping with honeyed charm. "Tell me, have you been enjoying my little gifts?"

Your heart pounded in your chest as you struggled to maintain your composure. "I appreciate the gesture," you replied tersely, forcing a note of indifference into your tone.

Deep down, you weren’t scared or threatened that the man called you, in fact, you welcomed it. Perhaps you could use this as payback for John?

The Marquis's laughter echoed in your ears, he had noticed your tone of voice . "Oh, ma chérie, you wound me," he purred. "But tell me, have you left Paris? I haven’t seen you anywhere…”

Yeah, thanks to John. You thought in your head.

“I simply admire beautiful things, and you, my dear, are the most exquisite masterpiece of them all. A shame I haven’t seen you since the auction.

Despite the danger and warning bells ringing in your mind, a rebellious spark ignited within you at the Marquis’s words. You couldn’t deny the thrill that coursed through you at the thought of defying John, of embracing the danger that lurked just beyond the shadows.

As the Marquis’s laughter echoed in your ears, you felt a surge of defiance welling up inside you.

“I’m still here, Marquis,” you replied, your voice laced with a hint of mischief. “And I must say, your absence hasn’t gone unnoticed either.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, followed by a low chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. “Ah, so you’re still playing games, ma chérie,” he murmured, his voice tinged with amusement. “I must say, I do admire your spirit.”

The Marquis’s laughter filled the air once more, a sound that sent a thrill of anticipation racing through your veins. “Well then, my dear,” he purred. “Let’s see just how far that taste for danger will take you.”

the end ! part 3 in progress…

© rosevette 2024 . do not copy !

[strawberryspence]

happy birthday, @withacapitalp! i hope im not that late! i am so glad to be your friend and i am glad you were born. ily! long islands on me! 🥂🍾💗

-

There’s this damn spring festival in Indianapolis. It’s pretty popular among young-ins and people from small towns come to visit it every year. There are local vendors, activities, mini concerts. It’s where Eddie thrives the most, he has gone every year since he can remember.

His first mistake was mentioning it to Dustin. The second was agreeing to his insistent pleading if he could come with Eddie to Indy.

Because after Eddie finally said yes. The news— unsurprisingly— reaches El, and wherever El goes, Will goes, and of course, wherever Will goes Mike goes. Then Max hears and also wants in and of course, Lucas also wants to go. So now, it’s the whole damn party. Of course, he can’t handle all the kids. So now, all the adult kids are coming too.

And listen, he thinks they’re all great. But he’s been wanting to get out of Hawkins and away from them to just— breathe. Also, that’s a lie. Eddie doesn’t want to get away from them. He specifically wants to get away from Steve fucking Harrington and all the confusing feelings he have for the very straight man.

Of course, that doesn’t work out.

Because now they're stuck in the middle of a crowd. Eddie has never really understood why people said they felt like a sardine in a can, but right now, he fully understands. He should have known it was going to be busy. It was a Saturday and it’s one of the biggest festivals in town.

He will never say it, but Eddie thanks Steve’s very strong maternal instinct. He can worry for himself right now, because he knows the kids are together due to the very strict buddy system Steve instituted. Now they just have to get to the damn corn dog stand, which Steve declared as their meet up place.

“Eddie.” Eddie whips his head to see Steve staring intently at him. Oh yeah, Steve’s his buddy. “We have to get out of here.”

Eddie nods faintly but doesn’t answer. He has to keep his breathing in check. They’re fine, and the kids are fine. There’s a crowd but they're not after the kids. They're not after Eddie. They’re not after him. It's not an angry mob. Not after him for killing Chrissy. Not—

“Eds.” Steve pushes against the people to get to him. His brown eyes track his face before he sighs in worry, “Hold my hand.”

“What?” Eddie croaks out in disbelief.

Steve looks around, before whispering, "Baby, I think you're one step away from a panic attack. It's too fucking crowded."

And before Eddie can say anything else, Steve captures his hand into his. He doesn't intertwine them together because they're still in public and though they're in the city, it's always good to be safe. But Steve still holds Eddie's hand so tightly, like he's afraid that Eddie's going to vanish from his sight.

"Don't let go, okay?" Steve asks, which is ridiculous, and crazy. Because now that Eddie's holding his hand, clasped together like two ends of the same parenthesis, he doesn't think he could ever let go.

Eddie nods, and Steve pulls him in front of him, shielding him with his arms so people won't bump into him. It weirdly feels like a hug. If he has to describe it, he will say it feels exactly like the moment Wayne hugged him after he came out to him. It's safety, warmth, and overwhelming love and protection.

Steve maneuvers around the crowd like a pro. He dodges people without hitting them and takes them out of the fucking crowd in the middle of the market.

Before he knows it, they're out of the crowd and sitting on a bench. His breathing is finally getting better, but Steve still hasn't let go of his hand. Not when he bought Eddie a drink, not when he instructed Eddie to breathe with him, not when the kids came and asked what was wrong, only to be shooed away.

Eddie's not sure why he's so shaken to the core by this certain touch. He's always been the touchy-feely one. He throws an arm on Steve's shoulders, pats his head when Steve does something ridiculously adorable, and nudges him by the ribs when he says something funny. Steve's never initiated touch, Robin says it's because of the "complete lack of love and care from his parents."

But Steve's right here. Squatting in front of him. Holding his hand as he waits for Eddie to calm down. Looking at him like he— loves him. How could Steve ever be the product of lack of love and care, when he seems to have an abundance of it?

"You doing better, Eds?" Steve asks, his eyes are bright against the lights. He's looking at Eddie like Eddie's something to be cared for, to be loved, like he's something precious.

Eddie wants Steve to look at him like this. Selfishly, he wants to have it for the rest of his fucking life.

Eddie blinks at him, and accidentally, intentionally, stupidly, spits out, "I think I am in love with you."

Steve freezes. He blinks at him.

The world behind them slows down. There's a kid winning a prize a few stalls down, and a man bargaining for a vase on the other end. Someone's order is ready at the food stand and someone just won the bingo. There's a band playing and they're fucking playing Whitesnake's Is This Love.

It's one of those simple, but beautiful moments. Those that make you feel like you're nothing but a small particle in this big, vast world. Eddie basks in those moments sometimes.

However, at that moment, Eddie doesn't. If Steve looks at him like that for the rest of his life, Eddie doesn't think he'll ever feel small again.

He lets the world fade into a quiet noise. Nothing else matters. Nothing, but Steve Harrington.

He just stares at Steve. He just stares as Steve's face breaks into the biggest smile he has ever seen and it quite literally feels like watching a sunflower grow right in front of him. It's a smile that overflows, from the way he beams at him, from the way his eyes wrinkle, the way his nose crinkles.

Eddie's never seen Steve smile this big before and its damn beautiful.

"You sure about that?" Steve asks. There's insecurity in it, but also hope.

Eddie's never been this sure about anything else in his life, so he says, "Yes."

Steve softens, "Alright. That's good."

"How is that good?" Eddie whispers.

"Because, I—" Steve turns over their hands on his lap, and finally— finally— intertwines them. And shit, maybe there is a God, because this feels sacred, a love made just for the two of them.

"Because, I think I am also in love with you."

"I wish I can kiss you here," Eddie says, making Steve laugh, and it spills out of his body so beautifully Eddie wants to keep doing it for the rest of his life.

"Slow down, cowboy," Steve giggles, but the way he tightens his hold on Eddie's hand tells the opposite of his statement.

"Steve! Eddie! Look at this!" Dustin screams from the nearby booth, where El just won him a teddy bear.

"Yeah, you have to come. El's not doing anything. It's just pure talent!" Lucas sarcastically shrieks back.

In the background, El's giggling like crazy. Which 100% means she's using her magic. Eddie can't help but smile at the kids. He's glad he bought them with him to have fun.

Steve immediately stands up at that, their hands breaking apart at the motion. "Oh God. I told her not to use her powers." Steve's about to rush to them— maternal instincts and whatnot— before he stops in his tracks and turns to Eddie.

Steve softens, holding out his hand to Eddie. Eddie takes it without hesitation.

"Don't let go?" Steve asks.

Eddie stares at him, before he whispers a vow just for the two of them, "I won't. I promise."

True to his word, he doesn't let go. Not ever.

Eddie has no intention of ever letting Steve go.

[rhiaarrow]

Hello, hello! The Ghostie with the penchant for long rambling walls of text here to give her unwarranted two cents on the current disagreement between the Tubblings and the Crows!

I'm offering my take as a purely unbiased outsider

(Yes, us Ghosties may be married to the Tubblings but when I first joined the Qsmp Fandom I was a Crow and a Crow only, before I died and became a Ghostie. Thus, while I like both qTubbo and qPhil I don't watch either of them often, ergo unbiased :D )

who has no real reason to attempt to villainise or place either character on a pedestal because to put it bluntly, they are not my cubito.

Without further ado I will begin my ramble.

Today's ramble of course comes with the disclaimer that with me not being a qTubbo or qPhil main there may be areas of their character that I'm not aware of since I don't watch every single one of their streams! Feel free to correct me on literally anything you think I've mischaracterized about your main just please be understanding that nothing is done with malicious intent! :)

I'm not attempting to paint either character as a villain in this ramble, I'm just publishing this in hopes to allow each community to understand that neither cubito is perfect and that's okay!

Okay! For anyone missing context; the current disagreement began when Tubblings expressed feeling happy that Chay was able to be a kid around qTubbo as opposed to being serious with qPhil then the Crows reminded the Tubblings that qTubbo is also attributing to Chay's hero complex through him acting as Chay's egg and asking Chay to protect him. Which has caused both sides to instinctively protect their cubito and is causing arguments within their communities.

As a Ghostie who is more than willing to write 1000 words to raise awareness, and is frankly sick of infighting within the QSMP fandom (it's why I left twitter, please don't bring it here 🫠) I figured I'd try to help 'squash the beef' if you will.

Polite discussions about cubito conflict is fine, going for each other's throats over character takes...yeah let's not do that! :D

Firstly, everyone has to recognize that Chayanne has an almost toxic hero complex. He's had it since the beginning of the server and while neither qPhil or qTubbo is doing it on purpose they are BOTH feeding into it!

He has an overwhelming urge to protect others with no regard for his own safety or wellbeing at times. In the beginning it only extended to eggs. As the older sibling he had a sense of responsibility over them, which was cute! But now it's borderline toxic although it's become so normalized as such a core part of Chayanne's character that no one recognizes it's no longer a healthy mindset.

Now Tubblings can make the defense that qTubbo isn't being entirely serious or that he doesn't truly expect Chay to put his life on the line for him but I watched him look Chayanne in the eyes and BLAME HIM FOR NOT PROTECTING 'HIS EGG'.

Even if that was immediately reincarnated qTubbo who was a little fucked up in the head, even if he no longer fully blames him, even if qTubbo was joking at the time, he looked that kid dead in the eyes and told him it was his fault. Tell me again how qTubbo isn't unintentionally feeding his complex?

Yes qTubbo allows Chay a more carefree space away from his overwhelming need to protect his younger sister and a space to be more relaxed.

Yes qTubbo is joking about a lot of things and a lot of the out of pocket shit he says isn't intended to be taken completely seriously.

BUT you cannot fully disagree with the Crows when they say that qTubbo feeds the complex too. BECAUSE HE DOES, JUST NOT ON PURPOSE THE SAME AS qPHIL!

qPhil is so used to his son being the strong warrior that he doesn't realize that that character trait is actively damaging his son's mental state. His attention is divided between Chay and Tallulah and since Tallulah is more open to talking about her issues he often isn't as attentive to Chay.

Is that a bad thing? Yes!

Is it intentional on qPhil's part? No!

Is it something the Crows need to recognize that qPhil does which unintentionally allows his son to continue to struggle with his hero complex? Yes!

qPhil loves his son unconditionally AND qPhil feeds Chayanne's hero complex are two statements that can and do coexist

qTubbo let's Chay be more of a child AND qTubbo feeds Chayanne's hero complex are two statements that can and do coexist

And as long as both the Crows and Tubblings are willing to understand that neither cubito is perfect and THERE'S NO USE FIGHTING OVER PIXELS then we're good!

- Sincerely a Ghostie who just wants to try to bring understanding between the two fandoms by utilizing her rambling skills!

AGAIN, any severe mischaracterization you feel I may have included is unintentional and feel free to correct anything you feel like I'm misconstruing, they're not my main cubitos so there may be somethings that qTubbo or qPhil mains find to be untrue to the source

HOWEVER if you're gonna call me out for mischaracterizing a character simply because I'm bringing up their flaws and you can't accept a character has flaws, kindly fuck right off :D

[biteofcherry]

💐Zombie's Bouquet Event💐

A bouquet for you! Featuring: Steve Rogers; Forced Proximity; Omegaverse; Soft Dark. I hope you enjoy!

++++++

You know you shouldn't go in to work today, so close to your heat. But there was so much work to be done and you couldn't just leave it until you got back. You almost think Steve, your boss, is pushing for you to quit with how much work he's giving you. For being America's Golden Boy he can be a real pain in the ass.

"Eva, where are the reports from the Brunei incident?" Steve walks in from his office to yours as he looks over the latest stack of paperwork you completed.

"Oh, it's the one I'm working on right now, sir," you reply, showing him the current stack on your desk.

At that moment the security alarms blare, all doors and windows locked. F.R.I.D.A.Y. announces a potential deadly chemical leak in the lab. You and the Captain are now trapped in your office with limited air flow and your only a day or so from your heat.

Steve's Alpha instincts flare up and he looks at you, realizing the truth of the situation for himself. The sudden spike in protective-Alpha pheromones almost triggers your heat.

"S-s-sir, I think, I think you need to stay back."

"Why did you come in so close to your heat?" His growl goes straight to your core and you have to pinch yourself to try to stay focused.

"You were the one who was insisting this mountain of paperwork get done before I take that time off!" As much as your Omega was starting to beg for this Alpha's care, you weren't going to let him make you feel bad for this. It was legitimately not your fault.

Steve growls again and you almost collapse on yourself. He and his Alpha know you won't last much longer. He's wanted you for so long. Your stubborn nature combined with your genuine desire to please made him want to claim you the first day you met.

But now is his chance. He knows the security won't be lifted before he's got you begging for his knot and his mark. He'll make sure to fill you with pups, too. You'll be his in every way.

@thezombieprostitute OMG 🤯🥴 I think you kinda killed me.

I knew I would love whatever you write, but you went and drooped my name and suddenly I was out of my seat and pacing the floor 😳 I did not expect that. As I didn't expect my reaction to be so strong.

The intensity skyrocketed!

And this line: Your stubborn nature combined with your genuine desire to please 🥹 it hit so good and true, like I kinda felt seen.

Nghh, but to be stuck with Alpha Steve and have him tend to my heat, even when at first I stubbornly refuse to admit I want him 🫠 and then you added breeding kink 🥵💀

I died in the best way! Thank you! 💖 This is what I'll think of tonight when going to sleep.

[freeflowersofmuseums]

Yandere Bouillabaisse

Hello lovelies! dont know if anyone missed me but now that I'm better at writing and playing FF again, I figured I would try writing another shot. If there's something you really wanna see, just dm me a request! i get the struggle of being in a niche fandom and when there's nearly 400+ characters in FF, it can be really hard to find content for a character you like. With that being said, here are some headcanons and a scenario for the food soul Bouillabaisse!

CW: Collaring, drugging, kidnapping, stealing, jealousy and general yandere tendencies. GN!reader

Bouillabaisse or “bisse” as you called him, was fond of you when he was first summoned. For the small price of 150 soul embers from the store, you had gained an eternal companion. He thought you were simply adorable, his past master attendants were powerful mages or even other food souls who wanted him for their own gain, but you were the only person who gave and asked nothing in return. For that alone, he would provide you his service.

Everything you do enchants him. Your laugh, the way you touch his face, and even the food you provide for him warm his heart. He has never met anyone so kind and generous, he tries to return the favor as best he can. Giving you all sorts of knick-knacks he picks up off the road or the beach.

He is set on following you everywhere, while this isn’t too out of the normal for Food Souls, he takes his position as your personal assistant very seriously. When shopping for groceries, he’ll often quietly tuck fruit in his bag while others aren’t looking. The idea that you have to pay for anything in this world is ridiculous. Don't they know that you're the best master attendant in the world?

You pet him in a way he's so fond of. Gently pushing back the hair that obscures his features. You wash his face before bed, tucking him in with care and preparing delicious food in the morning. He watches as you hum various songs. Flitting about the kitchen like a golden ray of sunlight, preparing a meal that you hope he will enjoy just as much as you do. He'd never known this feeling before… this is love, isn’t it?

He despises the fact that you have to toil away at your job, giving your effort to someone who will never appreciate it and only ask for more. Oh, how he wishes he could simply whisk you away, waltzing on the beaches he knows so well while he covers you in sunken treasure. Pearls complement your complexion the best, he thinks.

It's only when a belligerent man catches your fancy does he comes across the realization that he would kill for you. Bouillabaisse hates every fiber of the man's being. He was almost disturbed that such visceral hatred was able to come from his core. Baisee looms over you while he watches the man offer to take you for a beverage. Taking in every disgusting quality of the man. The conversation only lasts a few minutes at most, but the pain is forever ingrained in Bouillabaisse's heart. If he is to properly protect you from the vile instincts of others, he has to isolate you.

He's so sorry. He doesn’t mean to hurt you he promises! But spiking your drink was the only way he could knock you unconscious and whisk you away. He knows that this is the best option for the two of you, but he hates hurting you! He hates knocking you out forcefully, but he found a happy medium in the form of keeping you drugged just enough to be barely conscious. He finds you adorable like this, constantly coo’ing in awe at your inebriated form. You need his help to do everything, a situation that won't last forever, but something he quite enjoys.

When the two of you reach his homeland, he finally feels comfortable enough to let you recover. He sets you down in a big shell basin that's been padded with all sorts of fabrics and pillows.  Smiling at the fact that you look like a pretty pearl when sitting in the shell. The cave seems to be comprised of a small above-water-level portion where you can breathe comfortably, but the only exit seems to be an extremely long tunnel submerged in water. In order to leave you would need Bouillabisse’s assistance.

He holds you as you kick and scream for release from the caves. He lets a few sparkling tears fall from his eyes. He is so frustrated that you can't see the truth! That the only way you’ll truly be happy is with him, right here where he can give you everything you need.

He feeds you just a drop or two of pufferfish poison.  Just enough to keep you from accessing your magic and prevent him from doing what's right. It makes your body run hot and you struggle with physical activity, but Bouillabaisse does everything he can to provide for you.

Now that he has you all to himself, he needs to find a way to mark you. He needs to own you like you own him. While it's likely not a permanent fix, he fashioned a collar for you. Made from the thicker bones of his tail and metal embellishments. He adores dressing you up and perhaps the collar was simply the start, but ever since he wrapped it around your neck you find that he has an odd fascination with picking out your clothing within the limited selection he carried.

Your relationship with Bouillabaisse has drastically changed but it's hard to get mad when you realize most of his actions come from his almost child-like level of ignorance. He loves you and he's not afraid to say it. Perhaps with enough time or patience, you could even convince him to let you leave. Provided you pay the transportation tax in the form of kisses. <3

Threat level: 4/10

Love level: 9/10

[pastelwitchling]

              The first time Alex had seen Michael’s scars, he’d lain the cowboy down on the bed and kissed the spots with a bare brush of his lips that had Michael’s head spinning.

              “You don’t have to,” he’d started weakly, too busy arching his back as Alex’s tongue swiped across his naked skin to finish the argument, the rest of his thoughts turned to fog.

              The scars had not come from a good place, and every time Alex caught sight of the faint pink marks, long-hidden beneath a smattering of chest hair, he held Michael like he was precious and kissed the marks until Michael forgot his own name, let alone any of the bad memories. Yes, the scars had not come from a good place, but damn it if Michael didn’t love the attention they brought him.

              No one else had ever known what to do with Michael’s injuries, what to do with the nightmares foster parents who had no business being foster parents had inflicted, what to do with Michael’s broken mind and broken body and broken skin. Maria had tried to get him to talk about it, like it would somehow bring them closer together, even though he doubted she’d ever know what to do with the information either. And while Michael knew it had come from a good place, he’d always felt pushed into something he wasn’t ready for and didn’t want. Alex didn’t force him to talk. Alex just kissed him and protected him and loved him.

              Alex shared pieces of himself that left him raw and vulnerable until Michael knew his own haunted mind was safe here, too. Alex, who never let the world in past the surface, let Michael in to his core. Michael wanted so badly to be worthy of that.

              “I love your body,” Alex murmured against Michael’s nipple, his hand drawing lazy circles in the trail of hair leading down Michael’s abdomen, nestling his fingers in the wiry hair between Michael’s legs and pushing an unsteady sigh past Michael’s lips. Nothing Alex ever said felt like consolation or sugarcoating, mostly because Alex didn’t seem to see the point in lying.

              If he told Michael he loved him, it was because he did. If he told Michael he was gorgeous, it was because he genuinely believed Michael was. Alex’s honesty was always a bit intoxicating.

              “I love your body,” Michael murmured, running a hand down Alex’s naked spine, too in awe of his perfect husband and his perfect back and his perfect shoulders to take notice of the way Alex seemed to whisper the words into Michael’s own skin.

              “You’re so beautiful,” he said, faintly kissing one of Michael’s ribs before moving further down. The setting sun peeked in through the drawn curtains, leaving a beam of light along the bed. It lit Alex’s hair and as Alex’s mouth closed over Michael’s skin. Michael watched as the sun hit his eyes and left a line of bright hazel and gold against the dark brown. His heart pounded as Alex slid further down, down, down. He slid a hand into Alex’s hair, heat pooling in his gut as Alex’s tongue licked a long line across his hip, his legs instinctively spread wide as his husband slid in between them.

              They’d been at it for hours, a rare lazy day when Alex hadn’t wanted to get out of bed in the morning and Michael had been all too happy indulging him. Then an hour’s indulgence turned to two, then three, and now they were nearing the evening, and it looked like they were getting ready to start all over again.

              Michael loved his life. Alex’s hands stretched up his body, fingers spread out to touch as much of Michael as he could. His fingers stopped at the scars, rubbing them softly until Michael was arching his back and begging for more of Alex’s tongue. Alex reached up only to pinch Michael’s nipples, his mouth closing over Michael’s cock and taking him to the hilt before he was lowering his hands back down to the scars.

              All the hate that put these here, Alex seemed to silently promise with every touch, I’m going to love you until they can’t hurt you anymore.

              Michael couldn’t take it. He couldn’t take the fierce, protective look in Alex’s eyes as he watched him, as he alternated between twisting Michael’s nipples and rubbing the scars, as he swallowed Michael down as eagerly as though he was always dying for a taste of him. His body damp and his chest heaving, he thrusted up into Alex’s mouth. Alex hummed, sending vibrations throughout Michael’s body that had his mouth hanging open.

              Michael grabbed fistfuls of Alex’s hair, thrusting with renewed vigor into his mouth as Alex continued to touch him in ways that kept him incapable of more than cursing and breathing Alex’s name. The heat in his gut turned hotter and hotter and hotter until Michael came without a warning, his body shuddering harder as Alex grabbed his thighs and pulled him in even deeper, swallowing him down.

              When Alex finally pulled off, kissing Michael’s thigh before he dragged his body up Michael’s, Michael found his eyes darker and hungrier than they’d been this morning.

              Chuckling lazily and out of breath, Michael wrapped his arms around Alex’s shoulders. “You sure you don’t only love me for my body?”

              Alex bit his lower lip as he grinned, wide and wild, before he grabbed Michael’s thigh and hitched his leg up around his own waist. Michael’s smile fell on a gasp as he felt Alex’s hard length press into his own, feeling, as he only ever did with Alex, like the sexiest man in the world.

              “Spread your legs,” he said in a voice like gravel, “I’ll show you how much I love you.”

              Okay, Michael thought dizzily, spreading his legs even further as Alex lined himself. For Alex, he really wouldn’t mind taking second place.

***

I honestly have no idea what this is. I was given the word scars, and this is what I got. Happy malex Monday ❤️

[eastwindmlk]

Written for @jilymicrofics prompt Jan 20: Primal Word Count: 559 It gets a little spicy near the end, you've been warned.

The sound of footsteps echoed through the forest, leaves crunching underfoot, twigs breaking. Pausing for a moment, the rustle of leaves on the wind before they continued, this time a little more careful. Lily had her hand clasped over her mouth, hoping to quiet the sound of her rapid breathing. Not that she thought it mattered, not with the way her heart was pounding and the sound echoed in her ears. Surely he could hear that, too. 

“Come out, come out, Little Doe. Come out and play.” His voice was soft, as if he knew that she was close. She pressed her back firmer against the rough bark of the mighty oak she sought shelter behind. Wishing it would swallow her up. 

The footsteps drew closer, giving her a choice. Either try to sneak through the underbrush, hoping to not be spotted, or—before she could even finish the thought—some primal instinct kicked in, telling her to run. 

She pushed herself off of the tree and started out sprinting, letting her legs carry her as fast as they could. 

“There you are, Little Doe,” he growled, his footsteps speeding after her. She could hear him inching closer with every stride of his long legs. Making powerful bounds towards her. 

She turned to look behind her, red hair blowing around her face. Her eyes grew wide. He was so much closer than she initially thought. Just a few more steps, and he’d close the distance. 

Spinning around a tree, she hoped to gain on him with a few lithe steps that agilely travelled up a fallen log. An involuntary shriek fought past her lips as his claws brushed her ankle, making a grab for her. 

She narrowly escaped him there, clamouring down the crooked limbs of the uprooted chestnut. Landing on all fours, grabbing onto the moist forest floor. Using the momentum to propel herself forward. Lily was almost certain she had lost him; the insistent rhythm of his feet had disappeared. Her legs were sore, and her lungs were burning. She sought refuge under the protective canopy of a willow. 

If the hunter had picked up her trail again, she hoped the weeping limbs and shade would offer her some concealment.

She shut her eyes for just a moment, basking in the serenity of the willow’s protection. Doing her best to banish the heartbeat from her ears. 

Just as she thought she was safe, a pair of arms wrapped around her, his body slamming into hers and sending her to the forest floor. Teeth sinking into her throat, ripping the moan right from her throat. 

His lips kissing and biting a trail up to her ear, his laboured breaths sending shivers down her spine. His tongue flicked over her pulse. “You’re mine now, Little Doe,” he breathed into her ear, letting his teeth catch her earlobe. The words sent shivers down her spine. Her thighs pressed together when he growled into her ear. The sound went straight to her core, making her squirm in his powerful grip. “Now that you caught me, what are you going to do with me?” she asked, her voice low and thick with want. 

Her hands found a way under his shirt, his panting chest slick with sweat. He groaned for her while she dragged her nails down his front. 

“I’m going to devour you.”

[astragatwo]

In contrast to my last two Rain World OC posts, these guys aren't one offs and are part of my current core OC group. More info about them under the cut since it's lengthy.

First starting with The Serpent —

The Serpent is one of AV's many bio-engineered slugcats - if you can even call him a slugcat at this point - as part of a simple passion of experimenting with flexible slugcat biology

They share several traits in common with red lizards, those being constant hyper-aggression, tremendous strength, projectile spit and size

As for similarities with slugcats, well, a general elongated shape? Oh, mobility, unlike red lizards, the Serpent is very adept with vertical movement

AV didn't really have a clear goal in mind with the Serpent unlike the rest of their tube babies, they just sort of... happened.

The spontaneity of their creation though has been very interesting as despite initially being created with the solitary lifestyle of a red lizard, the Serpent still keeps his slugcat instinct of adopting random children they find

Though the Serpent seems at first, displeased with this development but rest assured that if you ever LOOK at his pup wrong they will kill everyone in the room and then himself

Though not pictured in his reference since he was my first Rain World OC, created with very little knowledge of the lore and started as a one-off, he has a citizen ID drone which AV uses to keep track of him

He was also simply created out of my desire to have a long slugcat and my obsession with red lizards combined so there's that, too

Speaking of AV, moving on to Administrative Violence —

Named after the song of the same name by Lauren Bousfield, you'd expect them to be - well - violent. They're not, at least not with those they commonly interact with

They are actually quite sweet with Blown Blooms, their partner, and Peach the slugcat

Weather conditions, all things considered, are pretty mild where they are but far, far off into the distance their partner Blown Blooms isn't so fortunate and natural erosion as well as other random unfortunate events unrelated to weather, has taken quite the toll on them

As a result and fearing for Blooms in every way possible but especially for their communication's inevitable severing and also Blooms being lonely all on their own, AV created a slugcat who resembles a strawberry lizard - a species of lizard Blooms is especially fond of

Peach was designed for protection and companionship first and foremost and an emergency messenger/relay secondly.

Outside of worrying for Blooms' condition and yearning & longing for close physical proximity to them the way creatures who aren't supermassive structures have the luxury of, AV spends most of their time studying their bio-engineered slugcats.

Each and every one of them is given a citizen ID drone for ease of tracking as well as general classifications

They couldn't give a shit about whatever problem the other iterators are working on - just these funny little slugcats

They take the occasional interest in other animals too but it's mainly slugcats

And finally, Blown Blooms and Peach —

Blooms, like AV, is named after a song of the same name by Lauren Bousfield. Peach is just named after her colors.

Blooms, like their partner AV, has a complete disinterest in the great problem and a very big interest in bio-engineering

This time with plants rather than animals though they have a soft spot for small critters but they're usually never the subject of any experiments - just study and admiration

However, due to a deteriorating state, Blooms isn't quite able to use their equipment to manipulate genetic information like they used to - which is upsetting

So instead, they help AV with their current studies as well as keeping tabs on their own prior experiments

They have Peach now, though, which brings a much appreciated break from constant studying and nice close companionship

Peach will often catch prey outside and come back to eat it with Blooms and occasionally Blooms will play around with Peach and levitate the prey around for Peach to chase in anti-grav

The event that pushed AV to create Peach was when a creature entered Blooms' chamber and attacked them, partially damaging their puppet before being killed and then expelled from the chamber

Blooms is absolutely still capable of themselves and ultimately damaging the puppet a bit is nothing when taking account the sheer scale of an iterator - but AV will be AV

Plus, Blooms isn't complaining about getting a cute little companion from AV

And general trivia/info —

Everyone here is aroace. All of them. AV & Blooms' relationship is non-romantic in a sapphic way

The Serpent's pup's name is Pipsqueak

I know rudder tails shouldn't curve like that but I decided that after I finished drawing the Serpent and I wasn't about to redraw anything at that point

The other Iterators in AV and Bloom's local group are Illuminated Crown of Fire, Projections of Watchful Eyes, and an unnamed lunar-eclipse inspired iterator.

I have little information on them right now, but they are each based off of solar eclipses, stars and lunar eclipses respectively

In all, this local group is just a bunch of experiment freaks to varying degrees except for ICoF whose presence is often forgotten because of how little they speak but is also ever looming

And that's all! Thank you for reading this far in <3

[wytchsbrew]

The ropes lay gilded golden against his skin.

They felt rich and expensive, from the surprising softness of them, but they shimmered in the low candlelight around them, glinting metallic like melted down religious artifacts.

Though the lights of his home had been blotted out in a flash, leaving him with nothing but the flickering glow of rows and rows of candles lit around him, he saw the designs of the ropes intricately when he peered down at his thighs.

They looked as beautiful as they felt, making him look even more beautiful because of their presence on his body and skin. Roses. Intricate, golden, gorgeous roses dotted the tops of the ropes, making his body look like like that of an ethereal angel.

Because they were wrapped around nearly every piece of his body. Binding around his thighs, pressing into the supple skin there, it wound their way between his thighs, one slice of rope pressed firm between the folds of his core, pressing hard into his clit, before binding the rest of his body. Creating a hatched pattern along his chest and wrapping around his pecs, before forming a tight circle around his neck.

The ropes tied behind him, then, binding his arms behind his back, connecting to the knot around his throat, so if he moved even a single inch, it pulled his head backwards sharply.

Leaving him stuck in one position.

Kneeled amongst the flickering candles, knees pressed into a silken, golden throw blanket. His mouth sat forced open by a cold, golden metal gag attached to a leather strap locked behind his head, leaving him unable to do more than gasp for air noisily in the absolute silence and wait.

He'd been waiting a long while for the inevitable pain to come, told to crouch right there and not move under threat of a heavy hand, and then left in the dark, alone, silent. He kept peering around in the darkness to find his captor, his heart pounding, but he'd yet to see them, and that made his hands tingle numbly at his back.

The blades of his shoulders, where he'd been hit and knocked around hundreds of times in the past, ached with the need to move and stretch and roll, held still for longer than his body felt used to.

Vash took another quick glance around in the shadows, before lifting himself up onto his knees and giving his body a long, lithe stretch, pulling his arms outward behind him as much as the bindings would allow and groaned around his gag at the feeling of his muscles releasing from their position.

Finally, he felt better-

"Did you just fucking move?"

Vash's gaze snapped upward, surprise ramming through his body with the force of a gun blast and his heart pounding hard against his ribcage.

Wolfwood now stood above him, wearing nothing but his button up undershirt, unbuttoned to show his dark chest hair and glittering rosary amidst it, and his tight pants, which did nothing to hide the giant bulge of his cock.

In his hand, he held a gold riding crop.

Shit.

Wolfwood's beautiful eyes stared down at him with a certain measure of darkness swirling in their depths. The typical look he received from him no longer existed there; gone was the man he'd fallen in love with and kissed every single morning.

In his place, stood this. This terrifying, hulking beast.

"Sorry, sorry," Vash mumbled around the gag, settling back down onto his knees fast.

The riding crop came down with a slap on his bare thigh, making him hiss and pull away instinctively, his entire body screaming to protect himself, but the big hand of Wolfwood caught him by winding into his hair and pulled him back into his rightful place.

He had nowhere to run.

"Aht, aht," Wolfwood tutted. "Did I say you could make a sound? Did I say you could move without my permission?"

Vash whined against the cold, metal gag shoved between his lips.

"I told you the rules, didn't I, angel?" Wolfwood smacked the crop against his inner thigh, scarily close to Vash's pussy this time. "You do nothing unless I say you can. Remember that?"

All he could do was nod, and Wolfwood slid the cool leather of the crop up his inner thigh, slowly. The edge nudged up toward his clit, which sat throbbing and soaking wet between his thighs, really giving away how little control over his own body he had when Wolfwood became involved.

"You are my property," Wolfwood whispered, leaning close. "Mine and mine alone, and you will obey every word I say - unless you want to get punished again."

Fuck, no, he didn't. He didn't want Wolfwood to leave him again. His brain was screaming like a banshee, panicking at the thought of being left in the silence without Wolfwood, forced to not move or speak, just stand perfectly still like a statue while his pussy pulsed and ached between his thighs, the rope placed over his clit rubbing each time he moved and causing a friction that made him want to moan.

But he couldn't moan.

He couldn't move.

He couldn't even beg.

"I'll leave you again, leave you here, tied up, untouched, until I see fit to return to such a terribly behaved slut." Wolfwood dropped to a crouch in front of him, lazily leaning his elbows on his knees. He tilted his head, dark, messy hair falling into his eyes. "Want me to do that again?"

Vash released a heavy breath through his nose, knowing it was a trick question. Wolfwood was trying to bait him into disobeying the rules for his own amusement, obviously, but Vash refused. He stared defiantly forward at the handsome face, and said not a single word, did not make a single sound.

"Now, are you gonna be a good boy for me, my sweet, pathetic little Vash?"

He nodded, slowly, making a conscious effort to not move too much. If he moved his neck, the bindings on his arms tugged upward, which pulled the rope on his clit.

If he orgasmed without permission, he was terrified of what Wolfwood might do, but he knew it would be nefarious and just flat out torture for himself.

"That's what I thought." Wolfwood grinned, showing sharp canines that had Vash's chest squeezing.

The crop slapped hard against his clit in an awkward angle, the side hitting sharply and spreading pain and pleasure through his body like tiny, sparking lights in the night sky.

He almost moaned.

Almost.

"Oh, so good for me," Wolfwood whispered in the most sultry and delicious voice Vash ever heard; he had to stop himself from breathing in too deep and whining against his gag as the sound of it raced directly to the center of his pussy. "So fucking beautiful just for me."

He felt the immediate gush of moisture slick between his thighs, and he felt tears prickling against his eyelashes. Fuck, fuck, no. No! He didn't want to cry.

If he cried, he'd make sounds, he'd sob, and then Wolfwood would leave again, and dear God, he didn't want him to leave again, please, no-

The darkened expression on the handsome face leaning close to him flickered for a moment, revealing Wolfwood's usual laid back, affectionate eyes. He leaned forward, into Vash's ear, and whispered, "What's the color, baby?"

"Green," Vash mumbled around the gag.

"And what's our safe word?"

"Knives."

"Good boy."

In a flash, the dark, Wolfwood returned, all an act just for Vash's insanely specific pleasure. He'd asked for all of this, after all, though the golden ropes and roses and candles and silk blanket were all part of Wolfwood's undeniable love of romantic theatrics.

Vash would tease him about it later.

Right now, he felt a little preoccupied by the riding crop coming down on his pussy again, and Wolfwood's voice in his ear. "I'm going to crouch in front of you," he said, softly. "You're going to bend over my lap, and present your ass to me. Understood?"

He nodded, trying to hide his excited smile.

When Wolfwood crouched down in front of him, Vash leaned forward and draped his chest across Wolfwood's thick, muscular thighs. He leaned all his weight there, finally, feeling immensely more relaxed pressed against Wolfwood's body.

He hummed happily around his gag, which made Wolfwood laugh a little.

"Did you just make another sound?" But, this time, there was no bite to it.

The hand that came down on his bare ass, though, certainly did have a bite to it. It stung and made Vash lurch slightly off Wolfwood's thighs with a cry of surprise he could not stifle no matter how much he wanted to. The movement caused a particularly hard rub of the rope on his clit.

This time, he moaned in tandem with the cry.

"God, fuck, you're such a good slut for me," Wolfwood praised. "Been thinkin' about doing this all day, every time I saw your body. I just wanted to hold you down and use my hand-"

Another smack, this time on his right cheek. He lurched forward again, the rope on his clit rubbing hard again, sending a spiral of pulsing, trembling heat directly into his core.

Tears filled his eyes for real this time, and he felt them begin falling. He wanted to touch himself. He wanted to orgasm. He wanted to do something, he didn't even know what.

His brain flew at a mile a minute, as Wolfwood struck him again. His hands felt so heavy and wide and strong against his bare skin, he wanted to faint, too.

"You're the most beautiful thing I've ever laid eyes on," Wolfwood continued in an even tone, as though he weren't spanking Vash for everything he was worth. "I can barely get through our normal day without wanting to fuck you so hard, you scream."

His hand came down again, harder this time, then with another fast strike that surprised him. He moaned against his gag, unable to keep himself quiet now, he moved his hips, canting them around until he felt the much craved friction of rope against clit.

"Mmmm, you're hungry, aren't you?"

Wolfwood's free hand wound it's way into the back of Vash's hair, and yanked him down, shoving his face into the now giant bulge of erection pressing against dark fabric.

His nose pressed into the shape of his partner's dick, as another strike hit him hard.

The smell of Wolfwood filled his senses, in this most intimate of places, and he breathed in deep, lavishing himself with this small piece of his lover he could reach.

"You're so beautiful."

The hand striking him, slipped downward, and thick fingers pressed into Vash's soaking wet, throbbing entrance. Three of them, spreading him wide, and gave him no time to adjust before thrusting those fingers into him and pressing into all the spots he knew Vash loved.

Fuck! Vash's body vibrated and a moan clawed its way up the back of his throat. This felt so good, exactly what he'd wanted when he suggested it to a hesitant Wolfwood a few days ago - perhaps, even better than he'd imagined.

Vash tried to shove his hips backwards to take more of the fingers, aching for more and more and more-

The fingers yanked out of his depths, and smacked a sharp, wet slap against his ass. The fingers immediately shoved back into him and pounded with precision against the spot that made him scream against his gag.

"You're the best partner in the entire world," Wolfwood went on with his praise, though the words now felt at odds with his rough, torturous actions.

Vash huffed and puffed against Wolfwood's crotch, drooling around the gag until his spit left a big, wet, soaked through spot on his pants. He wanted to laugh at how much of a dork Wolfwood sounded like just then, but his fingers exited his pussy again, and slapped hard on his right cheek.

"I've trusted you with my life over and over again, and now I'm trusting you with my heart and you have never, not once, let me down."

His tears fell a little harder, as he moaned and balled his hands into fists at his back. He wanted to listen to his words. He wanted to focus on how Wolfwood was fucking into him.

He wanted to do everything all at once, but the actions were both so at odds with one another, he found his body and brain screaming and thrumming at the same frequency.

"I love waking up with you."

Wolfwood slipped a forth finger into Vash's pliant entrance, and fingered him with a roughness Vash was not used to whatsoever. His legs began going numb, hands tingling.

Uh oh.

"I love seeing you gaining weight and eating every day. Seeing you in our kitchen makes me the happiest man in the entire fuckin' world, and I swear, I would burn down every city in a fifty mile radius if it made you smile."

Oh, God.

"Plus, seeing this ass get fatter is just so fucking hot."

"MMMNNNAHHH," Vash whined, and had no idea what he was trying to say. Perhaps he was begging for something, perhaps he was crying tears over these kind words, perhaps it was both.

"I'm so fucking in love with you," Wolfwood whispered.

And Vash came.

He came like a bomb going off and decimating the entirety of their beloved home. He screamed, and cried, and thrashed about against the tight hold of the ropes and Wolfwood's hand in his ear, and screamed even louder.

It was the strongest he'd ever cum in his entire life, he knew that, even as his vision whited out, and Wolfwood kept fucking his fingers into him, slapping him, fingering him over and over again, as he continued with the praise and the soft, romantic words.

Vash came again within just a couple moments, and he moved to pull himself away from Wolfwood's pounding fingers against his very, very sensitive, overstimulated core.

But, he couldn't move. The ropes held him still. He couldn't fucking escape.

His throat closed up.

His chest constricted.

"KNIVES!" he heard himself sputter against the gag.

Hands released him. He heard the shink of a knife opening, and the ropes fell away like dust from his body in the fastest instant of Vash's life.

He moved to collapse atop Wolfwood's lap, but his partner's strong arms tucked around him and gently maneuvered him around until he was held against his chest, cradled in the most soft, affectionate way. His head leaned against Wolfwood's strong chest, the sound of his heart thudding steadying him, as he tried to breathe deeply and calm his own pounding heart.

"I got ya, I got ya," Wolfwood rumbled. "You okay?" He pressed a kiss to the top of his head, then his forehead, then the tip his nose. "I'm sorry, I know that was-"

"No, no," Vash shook his head. "No, I loved it. Thank you, Nico."

Wolfwood smiled softly, before leaning down and capturing Vash's mouth in a soft kiss. "Feel better now?"

"Yes."

"Good, because all I wanna do is hold you in bed for a while. C'mon, beautiful."

Vash let himself be carried up the stairs to their shared bedroom like a princess, and lavished in the arms of his lover, who didn't stop kissing or hugging him. He praised him and hugged him and held him.

It was almost a pity Vash had to quietly remind him he'd left a hundred candles lit downstairs, and had to watch him flee from the room, cussing the entire way.

[the-whumpening]

Ash's Rescue [The Caged Tiger | Bonus Chapter]

Masterpost

CW: whump art, references to past whump, references to scars, mild mention of self harm, nudity in art (all the important stuff isn't visible)

Everything is below the cut!

(art by me!)

[Image ID: A drawing of a white man covered in tiger stripes and scars. He is fearfully huddled against a wall in a grungy horse stall-like room as a light shines on him from offscreen. He holds up his left hand to block the light from his eyes. He is nude except for a metal collar around his neck. /End ID]

-

Clamoring footsteps awaken Ash from his shallow sleep. He curls closer into the corner, wrapping the thin woolen blanket around himself and bracing for whatever horror Ozmund has conjured up. The deadbolt thunks out of place, and a tiny sliver of light creeps in through the cracked door.

As the light falls over him, he squeezes his eyes shut tighter. Just go away. Let me rest, he silently pleads. The footsteps approach his dismal cage. Amid the shuffling, the intruders begin to speak.

“Ash?”

No. It’s not real. Block it out.

He knows the voice. He knows the footsteps. He knows it simply can’t be possible.

“Ash!” The voice cracks. “It is—it’s him!”

I’m not falling for it. Not again. He jams his palms against his ears, fighting to keep his composure.

The other voices chime in as they work to unlock his cell door. He knows these, too; two of the same voices he’s heard screaming in his nightmares.

Light fully streams into his cell now, and he instinctively looks toward it. Squinting against the bright torches—brighter than he’s seen in days—his heart sinks into his stomach. He scuttles backwards against the wall, blocking the light with his hand.

No! Nonononononono . . .

“It’s okay,” Evius reassures him. Well, an illusion of Evius, at least. He seems younger than Ash remembered him, but every version Ozmund has conjured so far has been a little off. “It’s just us. Remember? Your friends. Evius. Mouse. Krumgus.”

Ash avoids “Evius’” eyes, his blurry vision settling on the other two. Mouse, a bit more skeletal than he remembered. Krumgus, nearly the same, but with a strange mark in his beard. It’s not the first time he’s imagined his own rescue, but he pleads it’s the last.

He slowly shifts his weight, kneeling on his hands and knees to protect his core, though he’s still held in place by the heavy collar and chain. It’ll go away soon . . . It has to. But as he tenses his muscles and ducks his head, he feels a weight fall from his neck, a metallic clang ringing against the stone floor. This has to be some kind of trick!

“Evius” kneels down in front of him; Ash is surprised to feel warmth from his illusory body. Although Ozmund’s illusions usually feel solid and realistic, they’re never warm like a living body. Did he force Owen to transform into Evius? None of the rings on Evius’ fingers look like the disguise ring he’d used before, but there could be other ways. A potion, a spell, disguising the ring itself maybe? His thoughts tumble over one another as his eyes flicker between the collar and the form before him.

“You’re free, Ash,” the Evius illusion says. “We’re gonna take you home.” He reaches out a hand to Ash’s face, and Ash pulls back, his eyes squeezed tightly against the prickling in his tear ducts. Evius’ hand halts at his neck. Ash holds his breath for a moment, paralyzed. “What did he do to you . . . ?”

His fingers barely brush against the scars encircling Ash’s neck, the muscles beneath quaking with fear.

Don’t . . . Don’t do this to me . . . Even so, Ash’s heart can’t help but ache at the touch. It’s been so long since he’s had such a gentle hand on his skin, so warm, so familiar—if he didn’t know better, he’d swear Evius had truly come to save him.

“Is he okay?” The false Mouse asks. She tiptoes closer to him, her pink curls bouncing the way they always have. But before she can reach him, Evius holds out his arm and blocks her path.

“Hang on, Mouse. Give him some space.” Evius, too, backs up from Ash, retreating past the threshold of the cell. Without them so close, Ash feels his breath return, albeit shaky and staggered. He clings to his thin blanket, cautiously crawling forward to inspect the illusions as they whisper amongst themselves.

His nose twitches, and he focuses on the scents emanating from their direction. Bergamot, metal, beer . . . It’s certainly closer than Ozmund has ever gotten to their distinctive smells. But it lacks the ozone-like burn in Ash’s nose typical of his illusion spells; is this perhaps some other kind of magic?

Within each body, he can hear a strong heartbeat. He can hear their shoes creak as they shift their weight, the rustle of their clothes and equipment, the brush of Evius’ tail against the stone floor. The detail is astonishing.

As he focuses on the sounds and smells, his head tucked low and staring at the ground, something slides into his field of vision.

“They might not fit,” Evius says, “but we’ll get yours back soon. I promise.”

Ash timidly places a hand on the pile of cloth. Soft. Warm. Real. He paws through the stack: a loose linen shirt, a pair of soft trousers, even socks. All in varying sizes, none he immediately recognizes. If they weren’t his, and they weren’t from his memory . . . Could they truly be the real thing?

He slips his hand through the sleeve of the shirt. It clings to his skin exactly as it should. As he carefully pulls it over his head, he takes in the scent of the cloth. A basic, bland soap and the faint leather of a traveling bag. Nothing like the heavily fragrant soap of the coarse clothes he'd been lent as Ozmund’s prisoner. Although it's a bit tight in the shoulders, the light fabric feels marvelous on his skin. The other clothes are much the same: clean-smelling and snug, but so much nicer than the little comfort he's had in what seems like months.

As he finally stands to his full height—or as much as he is able to from the endless days spent crouched—he wracks his brain for any explanation. He's never seen an illusion so realistic, able to carry real items and mimic a warm, breathing body. Unless he'd been drugged to imagine all of these things . . . There's simply no way this is just an illusion.

He grasps his own wrists. Still scarred, still tender. With one sharpened claw, he drags a painful line down his arm. This can't be a dream, right?

"Come on, Ash," Mouse encourages him with a beckoning arm. "You can do it."

Evius takes the smallest step forward, his hand outstretched. "Everything will be okay, love. Just take my hand."

Am I really going to trust this? Ash can't help but wonder. After all, the last time he fell for one of these tricks, it broke him completely. His soul shattered, and it still has yet to fully heal. But then . . . That's Evius, right in front of him. So close he can touch him. Does it matter if he's real or not? Does it matter if he's broken again and again, if he can just have one moment pretending everything is okay?

Shaking all the way to his core, Ash crosses the threshold and places his trembling hand in Evius'.

Immediately, a spark shoots from Evius' fingertips to his own. His heart pounds wildly in his chest, as if to leap out and join its other half. He grips tighter, his breath caught in his throat.

"It's . . . It's you," he whispers hoarsely. "It's really you!"

"Of course, Ash." Evius reaches to embrace him, and Ash collapses into his arms. "Let's get you home."

[vanilla-teddybear]

PAST LIVES

Dragon Kirishima x Black reader

Synopsis: You were just a Maiden in a human town and dating Kiri was a risk but what happens when something goes wrong leaving one of you dead and the other to go soul searching

In you beige dress you already know the event that plays in town. They hated dragons with a passion but you and your family was their apprentice. Your great grandfather happens to be the dragons queen great friend making your family untouchable.

That’s how you met Kirishima, without Bakugo knowledge you and Kirishima became more than friends. And you became family to the dragons.

You dipped in the lake fully naked, your long hair flowed through the water as you cleaned everyone part of yourself.

Until you hear a twig snap making you instantly turn around seeing your lover making you smile.

“Baby you know you can’t be here without someone to look out for you” Kirishima sigh before taking off his clothing then joining you into the lake. You moved towards him wrapping your arms around his neck pulling him closer.

He leaned in giving you a wet kiss on your lips. You creased his red scales what you didn’t know was that someone caught a photo of the both of you.

“I love you pebble” He mumbled lovingly to you holding you tight.

You hum tiredly from the hot water before mumbling you love him too. Both in peace but not knowing what was soon gonna come.

Disaster…

You were on your knees with a huge man hand on the back of your neck so you couldn’t fight back. The crowd yelling disgusting words at you, that shook you to the core.

“Monster Lover” “Whore” “Disgrace”

All those words hurt, this town you once called a family is now disgusted by your actions.

“___ for the actions of dating a Dragon and you being its lover you have been sentenced to death be grateful we’re saving you, We’re giving you Mercy” The pastor said making you cry.

“Any last words ___?” He asks in guilt singling to the man holding you to get ready to hang you.

“I-I don’t regret l-loving him” You stuttered making him smile sadly before nodding to the man. “I know sweetheart but I wish you never did” He mumbled as you were hanged.

The crowd cheered as you died slowly but surely.

Terror….

Then struck as cries were heard from everywhere, people trying to hide and flee but was caught with fire everywhere.

A big red dragon spread fire everywhere. He felt you dying and seeing your dead body just trigger him into destructing everything in that town and once he did. He held your body, grieving.

He couldn’t…..

He couldn’t take the pain of loosing you. After he pays his debt to bakugo, he’ll be with you again.

He Promise.

Centuries later Hero’s were born making you reborn with a quirk called Areokinesis. Making you control wind, air, and gas.

You looked the same Centuries before. Just as beautiful and Natural. You and Kirishima instantly became friends. You both were flirtatious to each other.

Your souls were always connected ever since your last death you were always gonna be his. He made sure of that.

Every Villain attack he was there protecting you, his instinct is just to instantly protect you from danger or threats. He was instantly attached to you.And before you knew it you both were dating again.

Together again…