#i do think it's notable that he is pushed to do so AFTER his meeting with Despair

[nightingale-prompts]

Batboy Meets Batfam

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"Relax Batty, it's just one dinner." Dick parked the car inside the Wayne family manor's garage.

"But I hate billionaires. Can't we just go to Batburger and go home." Danny whined slumping in his seat.

"What's so bad about it? He's your grandfather now." Dick asked.

"The last billionaire I met was the only other of my kind. And he was awful. Tried to kill me, clone me, marry my mom, kill my dad, ruined my life. That last one was something he achieved." Danny's wings materilized and wrapped around him as he sulked.

"I know it's hard Danny and I can't promise no one will ever try to hurt you like that again but I can promise I'll stick by you. I can also promise to kick the butt of anyone who tries messing with you." Dick said ruffing Danny's black hair that popped out from under his leathery wings.

"Still don't wanna go." As Danny said this he began to shrink.

Dick sighed, he had learned recently that Danny was a shifter of some kind. It was useful to hide his identity but he would also use it to get out of doing things. When Dick told Danny to clean his room or study Danny would shrink to the size of a toddler and say "Im baby" to get out of it. Dick is ashamed to admit that he's let Danny get away with it because baby bat pictures are precious and worth their weight in gold. He has a wallet full of pictures now.

But Dick has to put his foot down this time.

"Danny being little won't get you out of this. Do you really want to meet your new family like this?" Dick asked.

Danny huffed and turned in his now ill-fitting hoodie the size of a 3-year-old.

"Alright come on." Dick gave up scooping the toddler-sized teen under one arm and walking into the manor. "Alfred still has Bruce's old baby clothes somewhere."

"Ahh!"Danny yelped.

"What? Don't want that? If you show up as a baby, they will think you are one. You know Tim Drake is going to be there. He's going to be in the same school as you. Do you want him to think you're a baby?" Dick said holding the kid at eye level.

In surrender, Danny grew back to his normal size.

Dinner was oddly quite as everyone studied Danny closely.

Barbara was the least concerned as he talked about work with Dick and pushed Danny a bowl of strawberry salad. She wanted good aunt points. Danny would love her the most.

Cassie studied Danny's features. It was almost creepy how much he looked like Dick. She'd believe it if Dick was his biological father. Except for the eyes. Danny had a very particular eye color they were blue in the center but kind of had a green ring on the iris. The condition was called central heterochromia and it's rare.

Damian wasn't glaring like he usually would. He looked almost wide-eyed at Danny but remained silent.

Jason was absent as always apparently he was moved by Dick's announcement.

Then again Danny was supposed to be a surprise.

Tim and Danny seem to strike a cord immediately. Danny despite how silly he was the teen was very intelligent. Tim wasn't as subtle as he wish, mostly because Danny cornered him in conversation.

"So you're more used to living in a small town?" Tim smiled politely.

"Hmm? I didn't say that exactly. I said Im just new to the city." Danny responded.

"So you're from a different city? Metro or Star?"

"Neither, It's nowhere you'd know. Not really notable."

"You're going to be family soon, of course i want to know."

They went back and forth for a while. Tim was probably irritated after finding nothing about Danny's identity. And that meant Bruce was probably suspicious as well. Dick had to bet that Bruce's overactive paternal instincts would overwrite his need to investigate.

"So Danny, have you heard of the new vigilante in Bludhaven? The one they call Batboy?"Bruce asked wiping his mouth with a napkin as he ate.

This was the question Danny was waiting for.

"Of course! Have you seen the pictures on social media! Everyone is talking about him. Like, he has wings like a bat. Do you know what I'd do to get that power?! I mean he's not Superman but come on its so cool. We don't have metas-Is that what you call them? Yeah, metas. We don't have them where I'm from so I didn't think I'd ever met one. Dick said he met him the last time he saw Nightwing and promised to get me a picture but he didn't and he said he forgot." Danny put on a pretty convincing fanboy routine.

"I see. So Dick told you he's friends with Nightwing?" Bruce probed.

"He didn't need to tell me. Nightwing found me after I ended up in Bludhaven. I was pretty banged up and he parched me up and took me to the police station. I tried to leave but he told me that Detective Grayson would look out for me." Danny said digging through his salad to pick out the fruit and nuts.

"What about your parents?" Bruce asked softly.

"Bruce," Dick said in warning.

"Its fine...my parents didn't want me anymore. I can't go back. They'd probably kill me. But it doesn't matter anymore, they aren't here." Danny said stiffly feeling uncomfortable for saying a bit of truth.

They say the best way to lie is to have a bit of truth. Danny disagreed. The best way to lie is to have no truth, so they can't tell the difference.

Dick pulled the teen closer as Danny pulled his hands inside this hoodie hiding one of the burn scars on his arm but just enough to show that they were there.

Bruce didn't say another word.

Damian seemed to make his mind up at some point and joined in the conversation.

"Do you eat meat, Nightingale? I've noticed you haven't touched anything with it." Damian sounded oddly cordial.

"Ew, no. I don't eat meat. My friend always said meat was murder and taught me about how evil slaughterhouses were. We once raided a local farm to-oop. I forgot there are detectives at the table. I promise I'm a law-abiding citizen and not an eco-terrorist...anymore." Danny smiled too innocently.

Damian nodded in understanding. They had found common ground. That still doesn't mean he liked Nightingale. But he couldn't fight him since he didn't seem to know anything about their vigilante lifestyle.

Damian had to begrudgingly admit that Danny's presence was welcome. Soothing even.

It didn't matter. He and Drake still had bigger plans. Finding out who this "Batboy" was. They just needed Dick give up some information about the bat metahuman.

Tim had his suspicions that it was Danny but Batboy had stark white hair with black streaks and green eyes. Not to mention wings.

They would have to agree to disagree.

"Danny you have to eat something other than fruit. Eat the rest of the salad." Dick tried to sound stern but caved almost immediately when Danny pretended he didn't hear that.

Bruce internally sighed. Does he step in and help or let Dick figure it out. How does one be a grandpa to a non-vigilante who you can't threaten with no patrols?

*Bonus*

Danny when he see fruit.

[your-local-granny]

okay before i forget. i've been trying to put my finger on why people saying phoenix and maya are 'sibling-coded' pisses me off so much and I think a big part of it is how important mia is to both their introduction and also the foundation of their relationship and how calling phoenix and maya 'siblings/sibling-coded' waters down all of their relationships

phoenix wishing that maya was mia is a very big part of maya's arc as well as a big sticking point in phoenix and maya's relationship. phoenix spends the majority of turnabout sisters wishing that 'the chief' was there and when maya fails to channel her he shows outward disappointment. this is something that maya obviously picks up on and internalizes as we see throughout the rest of the games. most notably maya shows remarkably little self-preservation, throwing herself at von Karma's taser and in contempt of court to help edgeworth (and by extent, phoenix). she openly admits to feeling useless when she can't channel mia and phoenix never refutes this out loud until he of course presents the bullet to her showing that she wasn't useless. phoenix is notably bad at expressing his thoughts/ and feelings so its honestly debatable whether this gets through to maya but thats neither here nor there

on the other side of it, maya wishes that phoenix would be the caring adult figure that she was missing for most of her life (and especially after mia dies) and phoenix does not do a great job of being that figure. he likes her sure, and they're good friends, but he's definitely not nurturing or sensitive whenever maya is in distress. at the end of turnabout sisters when mia tells maya to "take care of phoenix" for her, maya starts calling him nick (because that's what mia said phoenix's friend calls him) and their dynamic for the most part is solidified. maya is not able to find mia in phoenix and accepts him as his own person and a part of her life as a friend.

phoenix has a more complicated journey with viewing maya as her own person partially because of the whole spirit-channeling thing, and partially because maya is younger than both the chief and himself. phoenix is constantly looking to a mentor for guidance and feels out of his depth for most of the cases in the trilogy. he frequently wishes that mia could be there, and is shown to value maya's ideas less, or at the least question them more at face-value. nevertheless, by the second game phoenix relies on maya greatly as shown with how he copes (or fails to cope) with her absence in rfta and 2-4, and 3-5. phoenix views her as both an integral part of his life and support structure, but also views her as someone he has to put on a brave face for, much like pearls. maya is phoenix's young friend that he leans on and wishes to protect.

maya's love for her sister is a core theme that spans the entire trilogy and culminates in maya almost dying in 3-5. phoenix's love for mia is a constant driving force that pushes him past what he believed himself capable of, and encourages him to trust those who become those closest to him. phoenix and maya's relationship is colored by their own relationships to mia, and how they view each others relationship with mia. they both represent a part of her that they never knew as well as a part of her they can keep loving in her place after she is gone, but most importantly, neither of them will ever be mia. no one else can be maya's big sister and no one else can be phoenix's mentor. they meet each other as two strangers set adrift by the same lost mooring, and though they'll never be secure in the way they were before meeting each other, they have a friend to help keep themselves afloat.

[wayward-dreamer]

Old Flame

Part 2 to New Blood

Square/s filled: "is that right?" @anyfandomkinkbingo (prompt in bold)|

Pairing: Soldier Boy x F!Supe!Reader

Word count: 5,229

Summary: Y/N never expected that a knock at her door late at night would result in a reunion with Soldier Boy, someone she long thought to be dead. The meeting gets off to a rocky start, but when certain truths come to light, some unexpected feelings come along with them.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, smut: dirty talk, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), I think that's it lol

A/N: I'm so excited to finally bring this to you guys! I just realised I posted the first part a year ago, so it's about time lol... beta'd my loves @hintsofhoney and @makeadealwithdean

Get the job done.

In all his tenure as Soldier Boy, that’s what he had learnt and kept faith in. He had tried to instill that in his team continuously for so long, but along the way he lost his grip on them, enough that they had taken action against him and given him up to the Russians.

The only credit he could give them was that he never saw it coming. Noir was always crafty that way, which was why he had no doubt Stan Edgar had put him up to it.

The last few days had been a complete whirlwind.

He had been released from a chamber in Russia, confronted by the modern world, burned Countess and the Twins to a crisp, all while running with two guys propositioning him to kill the “new” him, Homelander. Who he found out was his son, right before he caved Mindstorm’s face in with his shield. They were still on the search for Noir, but they were close. He had conflicting feelings about Homelander given the revelations, but if he was prepared to do what needs to be done.

He sipped his whiskey, reclined in the wrinkled leather armchair of The Legend’s office in his home upstate. He continued this nightly routine, contemplating the old days compared to this new world he had found himself in. He recalled the golden years, the nights of endless parties, alcohol, drugs, beautiful women, being in the pocket of so many of Hollywood’s elite and notable political figures. He remembered the Vought events, Herogasm in its prime and not the pathetic mess he had witnessed days ago. He thought back to those last few weeks before they left for Nicaragua, that shareholders party that ended up being his last. The night he met Y/N. Ember.

“Everyone knows Noir’s the only valuable player for Vought. The rest of you… you’re gonna end up C-listers, with crummy deals at amusement parks and running Herogasm into the fucking ground.”

He scoffed as he sipped the amber liquid. She had been right, of course. That was exactly what happened, and she had the foresight about Payback’s fate before any of them did. She may have tried to push his buttons, but he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the result of it. The sex was pretty fucking great; no matter how much he hated her attitude, he had to admit that fact.

“And as for you…You know they’re all just humoring you, right? Countess, the twins. I mean fuck, even Edgar just gives you shit to do so he doesn’t actually have to deal with you. He’s probably got a replacement lined up for you already.”

Just as the memories of her body against his plagued him, her words echoed in his head once more. Words that had broken his last resolve, that had him pushing her against the wall, that had fuelled their rageful lust for each other. Slowly, he stood up from the chair, replaying them in his mind. Yet again, she had prophesied something that he wouldn’t know the truth about until now.

So how the fuck did she know? She may not have been part of the team back then, but she sure as fuck knew something. Did she have something to do with the plot to get rid of him, too? Did she and Noir make the plan together?

She had voiced her desire to join Payback, going as far as telling him she’d talk to Stan after they had fucked and broken several pieces of furniture in his penthouse apartment.

He needed to know where she was so he could pay her a little visit like he had with the rest of his team.

-x-

Y/N settled in for the evening, laid back against the couch with a glass of whiskey on the coffee table and a joint resting in the ashtray next to it. The light of the television flashed against her face as some shitty daytime show was almost finished, ready to give way to the 6pm news. She had briefly seen something about an explosion in Midtown Manhattan a few days ago, followed by another in Montpelier, Vermont, but she didn’t pay much attention to it.

Sliding down against the cushions as the headlines started, she reached for the joint and brought it to her lips, clicking her fingers and lighting the end of it from the small flame. She inhaled, blowing out a large puff of smoke as she drew her knees up. With one hand, she reached for her foot and rubbed her thumb along her toes, firmly. She grimaced at the dull ache that had developed over the years, before stretching her leg out and hearing her bones click loudly. One of the many things Vought took from her; her physicality. She may not have aged a day thanks to the Compound V, but that didn’t mean the years of service to that fucked up place hadn’t taken a toll on her.

Taking another pull from the joint, Y/N glanced at the TV as a new headline came up. Her eyes narrowed in confusion as old images of Soldier Boy flashed across the screen, with the words SOLDIER BOY ALIVE? appeared over them. She jolted up from the couch, reaching for the remote and pressing hard on the volume button, making it louder than it had been. An instagram video with the supe she recognized as Starlight came after the pictures, her words ringing in Y/N’s ears.

“It’s been five days, and still nothing but lies from Vought. Soldier Boy is still out there, and Maeve is still missing, and you know what? More people are just going to die before they admit to what’s going on.”

Her eyes widened as the report continued, piecing the last few days and events together.

“As you heard Starlight there, it’s been five days since the events in Montpelier, Vermont where seven supes were killed, and several more injured. This comes a few days after the explosion in Midtown, with the prime suspect being Soldier Boy, Vought’s most respected supe. Long thought dead for the last 3 decades, which now leads us to believe: what has else Vought been hiding? Stay tuned-”

Y/N shut the TV off, the house eerily silent. She breathed heavily as she tried to understand what was happening. Was he really alive? After all this time? Had he really killed all those people? In an explosion no less. She knew his violent nature but was he really capable of something like this? Midtown was close to The Legend’s penthouse. Had Ben gone after him too?

While the reality of lives lost made her blood boil, the only thing that made her happy was the thought that Vought was probably running around with their heads cut off trying to fix this mess. She’d love to be in that building again and witness it, but she had never been so glad to be out of that life.

She knew that if there were casualties in Vermont, then it was definitely at Herogasm. The TNT twins were no doubt a part of those numbers, which meant Ben was going after all of the team. She had lost contact with Countess decades ago, which was she relieved about considering everything she and the rest of the team had put her through. Y/N had left Payback almost thirty years ago; crime fighting nearly twenty years ago, and she had never looked back. She had refused appearances at Godolkin and any Vought events over the years, and when they finally stopped reaching out she felt free of their hold on her.

There was no word on Countess, the twins were most likely dead; The Legend too, probably. That meant Noir and Mindstorm were next, and then Ben would no doubt be coming for her. If he was alive, then he had clearly learnt of her appointment to Payback, something they had argued over that fateful night, even if it did result in really great sex.

She stood up from the couch and rushed into her bedroom, knowing there was only one thing she could do at that moment. She needed to leave before he found her.

She pulled out her small suitcase, dumped it on the bed and began filling it with whatever she needed for a few days at least. That news report had put the fear of every God into her and she knew that she needed to pack quickly. She had never met Starlight, but after hearing who was responsible… she knew something was up even if she didn’t want to believe it. He couldn’t be alive. Not after all this time.

She couldn’t take any chances of him finding her and killing her too. Especially after that night, in his penthouse at the old Vought American building, when she said all those horrible things to him. Things that she had regretted the moment she found out he was gone in that nuclear blast. Was that how he was alive now and had managed to wipe out nearly everyone at Herogasm?

She pondered everything in her mind, shaking her head as the thoughts continued in a reel, continuing to put her things together as she moved on auto-pilot. She zipped up the bag, grabbed her passport from one of the drawers in her dresser and shoved it into her handbag. The Legend lived close by, and she just hoped and prayed that he wasn’t dead already. She needed his help to make her disappear for a while, because he was the only one she still trusted. She pushed the clothes in her closet to either side of the rack, reaching forward to the safe in the wall. Turning the dial a few times, it clicked open from the right combination and allowed her to take out a few bundles of cash that she had.

Just as she decided to change into jeans and t-shirt from her nightie and robe, a sudden knock on the door broke through the silence, stunting her in place. She felt a shiver run down her back as the ominous quiet stretched on. Slowly, she wrapped her robe around her body and tied it, walking out of her room. She stared at the front door, wondering if she just imagined it. Another knock sounded on the solid wood, and she flinched, gasping softly. Shaking her head, she rolled her shoulders as she straightened up, psyching herself up as she took leisured steps towards the entrance. She lightly wiggled her fingers to make small embers light up the tips, just as she reached for the doorknob. She twisted it slowly, opening the door wide to see no one there on her porch.

“What the fuck?” she whispered, her eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

Just as her hand reached for the porch light switch next to the frame, her eyes widened at the familiar face they stepped in front of her, paralyzing her in her place. It was the face of a ghost, or at least, he should’ve been. She staggered back as heavy footfalls moved slowly towards her, his green eyes staring into hers as his face remained stoic, the door hinges creaking as he shut the door behind him.

“Ben,” she gulped, squaring her shoulders as she stood her ground. She wasn’t going to let him intimidate her. “H-How are you alive?”

His blank facial expression gave way to a slow, sinister smirk. “Well you and the team handing me to the fucking Reds didn’t work out the way you planned.”

She frowned, shaking her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

In one swift motion, Soldier Boy’s hand wrapped around her neck, turning her around and slamming her against the wall. She gasped as his fingers curled over her throat, her body trapped by his shield pressed against her. She tried to push it away with her free hands, but his strength was too much for her.

“Don’t lie to me,” he snarled, glaring down at her. “I could snap this little neck like a fucking toothpick and you know it, sugar.”

“I-I’m not,” she choked, slapping at his arm.

“You seemed pretty confident about what was gonna happen to all of them,” he recalled, squeezing harder on her neck. “Countess, the twins. So you’re gonna tell me the fucking truth.”

“Or what? You’re really gonna kill me like you did the others?” she gulped around her words.

“Depends on your fucking answer,” he replied.

Her lungs burned as took a harsh breath once he released his hold on her. Her chest heaved as she looked up at him, still trapped between the wall and his shield. Her eyes darkened with rage, her jaw clenching as her nostrils flared the longer they remained in defiant silence. With the little strength she could muster, she raised her arms and pushed against his chest, pushing him back a few paces. His shield slipped out of his grip as he braced himself, his upper lip twitching as he glared at her. Her hands glowed with tiny embers that grew as she stepped towards him.

“Anything I say isn’t gonna matter to you,” she stated, wiggling her fingers around and causing small flames to ignite her palms.

“It all fucking happened, Y/N,” he husked, his stance changing into fight mode as glanced between her face and her hands. “Exactly the way you said. I mean, fuck, they probably replaced me with fucking Homelander - my son - because you told them to!”

“S-Son?” she stuttered, her eyes widening.

He chuckled, smugly. “Come on, doll. It’s hard to believe you had nothing to do with any of this. So what was it, huh? Getting rid of me as some kind of initiation from Noir and the rest of them? You were the final fucking puzzle piece in his plan?”

Y/N shook her head as her fingers tightened into fists, and before she realized her actions, she lifted the right and punched him across the face. The flesh of cheek singed by the embers healed quickly as he looked back at her, grabbing her by her arms and flinging her aside. Her back hit the wall hard, photo frames from the mantel above the fireplace falling off and shattering on the floor. She rolled her shoulders as pushed off the wall, some of the drywall stuck to the back of her silky robe. She tried to strike him again, but as he ducked away, he gripped her waist and turned her around, caging her in by his strong arms. She elbowed him but he didn’t budge; a complete wall of immovable muscle against her. She reached back, her fingers scraping against his cheek, a painful grunt escaping him as she burned his skin long enough for him to let go of her.

“Bitch,” he growled.

Soldier Boy wiped his fingers along his face, the flesh reforming before any blood was drawn. He moved towards her, but she bent down and quickly pulled the blade from his holster, coming back up as she flicked the blade around, slicing his palm through his glove. Once again he was unaffected as gripped her wrist, forcing her backwards and slamming her into the wall. She shrieked as her head hit the hard surface, the sound growing more desperate as she tried to free her hand from his hold. The deja vu of the whole situation wasn’t lost on either of them, as they found themselves in a similar position as that night, but she wasn’t going to let that distract her. As his other hand moved over her throat again, he hit her fist against the wall in an effort to get her to drop the knife. Just as the grip fell from her fingertips and before he could get the upper hand once more, she grabbed him by his kevlar vest, kneeing him in the stomach as hard as she could with her waning strength. A grunt, more of surprise than pain left him as he let go of her, slightly hunched as he collected himself.

“I got the gig 6 weeks after you were gone,” she blurted out. Before this escalated more than it already had, she was going to tell him what really happened.

He glared at her, straightening up slowly. “What?”

“Whenever you were taken… I only got into the team once Vought handled that whole situation,” she added, trying to catch her breath as she moved towards him, slowly. “Which they did a fucking piss poor job of considering I never believed for a second you were dead in a nuclear explosion.”

With a heavy exhale he watched her carefully, looking for any tells that she was lying. She knew exactly what he was trying to do, from the way his shoulders tensed and his eyes narrowed. She shook her head, scoffing as mentally told herself to “fuck it” because if she had to die defending herself, then so be it. At least she’d go out with some integrity.

“I had nothing to do with the plot to hand you over, okay? I didn’t know about Noir’s plan!” she exclaimed, stepping closer to him. “Though, if you ask me, those orders probably came from Stan ‘cause he’s the only one smart and sneaky enough to think of it. So no, it wasn’t an initiation. Trust me, that process was far worse.”

A bitter chuckle fell from her lips as she met his eyes again. His eyebrows furrowed, taking her in properly for the first time since he stepped into her house. Apart from the lines around her eyes she looked exactly the same, but something behind her eyes told him she wasn’t the pistol of a woman he had a fiery twenty minutes with all those years ago. He wasn’t about to ask her, because fuck feelings and all that gooey shit, but considering his own experiences in that Russian lab he realized he wasn’t the only tortured one in the room.

Y/N couldn’t decipher his silence. The longer he didn’t say a word, the angrier she got and that was dangerous in that precarious moment. She couldn’t stop herself, however, so before she realized what she was doing, she pushed him. It didn’t matter to her that he was a brick wall, her rage was consuming her and it needed to be unleashed in any way she could find. She hated to be called a liar, and there was no way he was going to get away with it. 

“No matter how much anyone asked for the truth about you it was always the same fucking answer!” she yelled, shoving him again. “The same lies they sold to the public were the same ones they gave us!”

Another push.

“Y/N-”

He stepped back, trying to move out of her way as he reached for her hands, but she was quick as they pressed into his chest again and forced him back, harder this time. 

“So, no! I had no fucking idea that you got taken by the Russians! No fucking idea the team did that to you! I joined Payback to look after my family, not to get rid of you!”

She jostled him again, her palms suddenly engulfed with large embers as she reached up and slapped him across the face. A pained groan escaped him this time, but as he tried to recover she used her other hand across the other side of his face. The skin singed before it healed quickly, but she kept coming at him, kept slapping and shoving, her teeth gritting as she screamed at him. He grunted as he reached for her, his fists closing tight around her wrists as she tried to pull out his grip, scowling at him as her fingers blazed.

“Y/N, stop!” he roared, his gaze far more menacing than hers.

But she didn’t back down. It was too late now.

“I asked about you, you son of a bitch! I tried to find out where you were! You wanted the truth? There it is!”

Her continuous attempt to free herself from his grasp failed, groaning in frustration as she tried to move away, but there was no use.

“Let me go,” she hissed, glaring up at him.

His hands tightened around her wrists causing her to gasp in pain.

“L-Let me fucking go and get the fuck out of my house!”

Soldier Boy remained stoic as she struggled, his heated gaze on her causing her stop. Their eyes locked on each other, and for the first time since he stepped through the door Y/N saw something else behind the intensity of his green orbs. What it was, she wasn’t sure and he probably had no idea what he was feeling either, but before she could understand what was happening, he dropped her wrists and roughly cupped her face as his lips fused with hers. A surprised moan escaped her as he grabbed her so quickly, but her hands instantly moved into his hair, pushing herself up on her tip-toes to get closer to him.

There was nothing gentle about the embrace. Their lips moved harshly against each other’s as her frenzied grasp tugged at his vest. She pulled away, gasping for air as she made quick work of opening the buckles and pushing the kevlar up, allowing him to pull it over his head and throw it aside. He pulled her close as they met in another frantic kiss, stumbling towards the living area as they dodged furniture. He reached for the tie on her silk robe, pulling it free and practically tearing off her before she tossed it somewhere in the room, stripping her of the short silk nightie she had been wearing just as fast. The back of her calf hit the corner of the coffee table, causing her to lose balance as she hit the floor, pulling him down on top of her. Luckily the thick rug softened the fall, but neither of them noticed as he stared down at her, completely naked in front of his still-clothed frame. Her frenetic grasp on his suit as she yanked at the gathered collar and pulled the zip down caused an amused expression to grace his features.

“Someone’s fucking eager,” he chuckled.

She scoffed, hastily sitting up and pushing the sleeves down his biceps before reaching for his pants. “Please, your dick just happens to be the only one in the vicinity.”

“Is that right?” he asked, briefly halting her urgency as he held her chin between his thumb and forefinger. “‘Cause if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you got a thing for me, doll.”

“You kissed me first,” she retorted, one eyebrow cocked as she looked up at him, her fingers deftly unzipping his pants. “What’s that say about you?”

“That I’m the one in charge,” he husked, taking her hands in his and pinning her down on the rug once more.

“Then shut up and fuck me,” she smirked.

He grinned as his face hovered above hers, breath mingling as their lips were inches apart. Without wasting any more time, he tugged the waistband of his pants down and took hold of his cock, hard and pulsing in his hand. He lined himself up to her entrance, and in one swift tilt of his hips, he was sheathed by her walls. Her mouth fell open at the familiar stretch, her eyes squeezing shut as she moaned loudly. She grabbed onto his broad, muscular shoulders, pulling him as close as their bodies could press together. He set a brutal pace to his thrusts, his pelvis smacking against her as she wrapped her legs around him, the heels of her feet resting under the curve of his ass. The threads of the carpet under her scraped her back, but she couldn’t have cared less at that point. Everything about that moment felt the same as all those years ago, and yet, completely different.

His touch was as harsh as before and so was the way he pounded into her. Something lingered under the surface, however, something that was unfamiliar to her and that she had never experienced with any of the men she had slept with. Just as she had with the others, she pushed it aside and tugged the hair at the back of his head, their lips fused together in a rough kiss.

“Fuck,” he husked, his mouth brushing against hers. “So fucking tight for me…”

“Didn’t I tell you to shut up and fuck me?” she taunted.

He glared down at her, taking in the rapid rise and fall of her chest. “What? This isn’t enough for you?”

“Looks like you’re fucking out of practice, old man,” she snickered.

The scornful laugh died quickly as he took her words as a challenge, slamming into her even harder. The shrieking moan that ripped from her throat had her regretting her words, her eyes closing as stars appeared behind them. Her grip on his shoulders tightened, the pads of her fingers digging into his skin as her nails left crescent marks behind.

It was his turn to mock her, chuckling as he stared down at her. “That’s what I fucking thought… only way to put bratty sluts like you in their place.”

She cried out, half in rage at what he called her and the other half ashamed that it had an effect on her, her walls clenching around him as she felt the familiar heat in her core. She hadn’t felt like this in a long time, well… since the last time she was with him. She tried not to think about how pathetic that was.

“Shit,” she hissed, pressing her lips together.

“Suddenly speechless,” he smirked.

“Fuck you.”

A boisterous laugh left him as he continued to move within her, his hips unrelenting. Her fingers squeezed down harder on his skin, the embers that appeared under them beginning to burn his flesh. He broke eye contact with her as his head dropped down, his shoulders heaving under her painful touch. He closed his eyes, squeezing them as his hips began to falter, causing her to frown. It was unexpected, and she had no idea what was happening to him, especially as a pool of light glowed on his chest.

“Ben…” she whispered, her hands instantly cupping his face and forcing him to look at her.

Just as the light scorches dissipated on his skin as it healed, so did the strange light that looked as if it would erupt from his chest. She gazed up at him, watching as his eyes finally focused on hers.

“What the fuck was-”

He cut the question off as he kissed her hard, his thrusts picking up pace once more. She moaned into his mouth, the confusion as to what had just happened disappearing as he pushed her towards her release. Her walls tightened around him, the intense sensation in her core too much of her to take.

“Fucking cum, Y/N,” he breathed against her lips, his gaze locked on hers. “Be a good girl and cum for me…”

A loud whimper left her as she threw her head back, her hands moving up the back of his neck and into his hair, gripping the locks between her fingers. Her eyes closed tightly as her vision turned white behind them, just as the coil snapped and she felt her wetness cover his cock. His own release came just a few seconds later, a deep growl escaping him as he dropped his head down, his seed coating her walls.

They breathed heavily as they came down from their euphoric high, but it didn’t last long as Ben pulled out of her, sitting on the floor and leaning back against the couch. Y/N sat up, reaching for her robe and pulling it on, tying it around her. The silence was awkward and she wasn’t sure how to break it as she heard him reaching for her lighter and the joint she hadn’t finished. He lit it again, bringing it to his pouty lips and taking a long pull.

“So… when did you find out about Homelander being your son?” she asked, not knowing if that was the best way to start but it was better than addressing what happened just a couple of minutes ago.

“A few days ago,” he replied, the smoke blowing out between his words. “Long story.”

She nodded, unsure of what to say next.

“Ben, what happened-”

“We’re not fucking talking about it, doll,” he snarled, pinning her with an intense glare. “Mention it and I can slit that little throat of yours so fast.”

“I’d like to see you try,” she challenged.

She shifted closer to him, her neck craned back, taunting him. She looked at him with hooded lids, biting her lip to keep her from cackling in his face. She plucked the joint from between his fingers and brought it to her mouth, taking a drag. She dropped her head to meet his gaze, blowing the puff of smoke out directly into his face. She knew she was pushing it, but she also knew he was all talk. When it came to her; if he really wanted to cause her harm he would’ve done it that night.

“Don’t you have another Payback member to kill?” she asked, nonchalant.

His jaw clenched the longer he sat in front of her and saw that she wasn’t giving him the satisfaction he would’ve had if she was scared. He stood up quickly, finding his suit around the room and putting each piece back on. As he picked his shield and walked to the door, she followed behind him, a mischievous grin pulling at her lips as she raised an eyebrow in question.

“Raincheck on that long story?”

“Sure you don’t wanna admit you want me first?” he grinned.

She scoffed. “And inflate that ego of yours even more? No fucking way.”

He growled as he reached up and grabbed the front of her neck, leaning in and kissing her roughly. She snickered slightly as her lips moved against his, pulling away before she could let herself fall further into his strange yet intense hold on her.

Ben pulled away from the kiss, and with a wink and suggestive wiggle of his brow he turned the doorknob, walking out onto the porch and into the night. She closed the door, leaning back against it as she took in the state of her living room. She didn’t get the answers she wanted, hell she barely asked the questions she needed to, but considering she never expected this to happen, for him to actually be alive, she supposed they had time to reveal truths and secrets that had been kept for so long.

Something had changed between them, and no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t help but dwell on it. If their next encounter was going to be anything like it was moments ago, then how could she not? He was a brute and she couldn’t stand him, but fuck it, the sex was worth it.

And that alone was the reason she could learn to tolerate him.

[dindjarindiaries]

‘why is it, that whenever we see each other, you’re always covered in blood?’

for our boy din 🥹

Risk

character: Din Djarin (The Mandalorian)

prompt: "Why is it that whenever we see each other, you're always covered in blood?"

main masterlist • prompt masterlist

You woke to the sound of a fist pounding against your front door in endless succession. You sat up straight in bed, your eyes widened as you instinctively reached for the blaster on your bedside table. After taking a few breaths to steady yourself and gather your bearings, you dared to tiptoe out of your bed and make a slow approach towards the door.

The knocking continued. You lifted your blaster and pushed ahead, only pausing once you were close enough to reach the tiny, sliding peephole that would give you a glimpse of who was outside.

Expecting the worst, a quiet gasp passed through your lips as soon as you caught the shine of silver armor.

You lowered your blaster and opened the door. It slid aside to reveal Din's full form, his weight shifting between his feet as his visor gave you an obvious once-over.

"Are you okay?" Din's modulated voice was breathless.

You huffed and raised your brow. "I'm fine." Giving him a similar once-over, your heart rate picked up at the sight of crimson smeared upon various parts of his armor, most notably his cuirass. You kept your tone light as you spoke again. "Why is it that whenever we see each other, you're always covered in blood?"

Din exhaled, taking a step closer to lift his gloved hand to the side of your neck. "I'd rather it be on me than on you."

He glanced over his shoulder, the leather by your neck groaning as he gently tightened his grasp. Din lowered his hand to your shoulder and lifted the other to your arm, guiding you back inside your home. He paused, however, to let his visor meet your gaze.

"Can I come in?"

You chuckled and pulled him inside with you. "You don't need permission to come inside, Din."

Din didn't respond to that. Instead, he focused on making sure your door was secured closed behind him. Your chest tightened.

"What's going on, Din?"

The strain in your voice caused Din to face you again. He tilted his helmet in a slow, soft motion. "I'm sorry for scaring you." Din gestured with his helmet to your bedroom door. "You didn't answer your comm."

You raised a single eyebrow. "I was asleep." You gave the pauldron with his mudhorn signet a playful punch. "Some of us don't pick fights in the middle of the night."

Din huffed. "Right."

You gave him a more obvious once-over. "Is this your blood, or someone else's?"

Din's hands tightened into fists. "Which would you prefer?"

"Take a guess."

Din closed whatever distance was left between the two of you, cradling your face in his gloved hands as he nodded. "I'm fine." His helmet gently fell against your forehead. "And thankfully, you are, too."

Your brow wrinkled together, your voice no more than a whisper as you searched the empty void of his visor. "What happened, Din?"

Din sighed, his armored shoulders falling forward as he did so. "I don't think I've been careful enough."

You blinked at him. "What do you mean?"

Din lifted his helmet from your head and gave it an aimless shake. "In the search for my covert. Doing these jobs and giving them too much insight about what I'm looking for."

He paused. You lifted your hand to his beskar cheek, running your thumb along the curved ridge in the handcrafted metal.

"I just finished a job, and they wanted more from me that we hadn't agreed upon. I was about to leave when they..." Din took another soft breath, "mentioned your name."

Your eyes widened. After a few heartbeats, you recovered enough to speak. "How?"

Din shook his head again. "I don't know. I've never, ever told anyone about you. About us." His visor fell. "Like I said before, I must've slipped up somehow, become too careless in looking for information. But I'll stop." He looked at you again. "Because it's not worth risking you."

You clicked your tongue. "Din..."

He continued before you could finish. "I killed them all, everyone who heard your name." Din's voice wavered. "Hopefully, that means you're safe. But I didn't know for sure until I got here."

"Din." You held his helmet between both your hands, lifting your brow again to convey your severity. After a brief pause, you went on. "You shouldn't stop searching for your people just because of this."

Din shifted his weight between his feet. "But..."

"No." You remained firm. "I knew what I was risking the day we started this." You gestured with your gaze to your blaster, which you had set on a nearby table when you reentered. "And I can protect myself, too. Even if they had shown up, you know I could've put up a fight."

Din exhaled, but he ultimately nodded. "I know."

You smiled. "Good."

You lowered a hand to the lip of his helmet, your fingertips running along the exposed skin and scruff beneath until they caught on the seam of the cowl at his neck.

"Thank you for doing what you did to keep me safe." You tugged the material down enough to set a soft kiss upon the warmth of his skin. Din inhaled, a sweet breath you could hear from within his helmet. "Now, let's get your armor cleaned and get you in bed. We can figure out the rest in the morning."

Din nodded, his hand catching your elbow when you set a hand upon his cuirass.

"And next time?" You chuckled. "Please try to show up without all that blood on you."

Din also chuckled, nodding once again before he escorted you to the safety and security of a bedroom you considered to be just as much his as it was your own.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — MIYA ATSUMU x FEM READER

Being hot at the grocery store should be illegal.

wc — 800

tags — grocery store meet cute, set in the same universe as the way to the heart is through the stomach

“There is an attractive man on the other side of the grocery aisle,” you hiss at Kiyoko. Your roommate had dragged you out for a grocery run, but as the person who forced you out of the comfort of your home, she could stand to be a little nicer to you. 

Instead, she raises an eyebrow; her face conveying utter disdain, confusion, and slight pity at all once. It’s a little impressive, honestly. 

She peeks between the cracks in the shelves. Looks at you. Looks at the man. Looks at you again. She makes a motion that could be what are you waiting for or let the grandma pass so she can get her multivitamins. 

Sometimes it’s complicated when it comes to Kiyoko. She’s not great at talking without words. It’s because she’s spoiled. Must be nice to have a boyfriend who loves you so fully you don’t have to try to be understood, you think with a hint of jealousy. 

Then, she pushes you towards the other aisle in a gesture that’s unmistakable. 

“Kiyoko!” You’re appalled. ��You’re not making me go over there. I’m wearing my pajamas!” 

Your pajamas are grey sweats with multiple suspicious stains from ketchup or blood or some other substance. You’re not sure. That’s why it’s suspicious. 

“Okay? He looks worse,” she says. Notably, she doesn’t tell you that you look fine. 

She probably thinks that’s reassuring. It’s not. 

The fact that he’s also in his pajamas and still looks hot is infuriating. 

And very sexy. 

Terribly so. 

“Just go talk to him,” she says. “You know if you don’t you’ll be thinking about him for days, anyway.” 

“I will not!” 

“Excuse me,” says the hot stranger, who in the time that you spent arguing with Kiyoko, has suddenly moved behind you. “Do ya mind?” 

He’s gesturing at the package of cereal behind you. 

You freeze. How did he move so quietly? And had he heard the conversation between you two? 

“Hello?” He waves his hand in your face - a little rudely. That deducts one point from his overall hotness score. You scramble away, giving him access to the shelf. 

“This is my favorite brand,” he says conversationally, “but my brother got a girlfriend lately, and every time she comes to our apartment she eats all of mine. I’ve told her not to like six million times! And he’s a chef! Why are ya even eatin’ processed junk if ya can get yer professional chef of a boyfriend to make ya whatever ya want? He’s so whipped, I swear.” 

“Aren’t- aren’t you also eating processed junk, then?” You say with trepidation.

He brushes you off with a “No, that’s different.” 

He’s…a little weird. Who just talks to a stranger like that? You have to admit that confidence is attractive - even if you’re not sure if it’s confidence or narcissism as he continues. 

“So, like. Are ya going to ask me out or what?” 

You choke on your own spit. He had overheard. There would be no better time for one of these shelves to fall on you and crush you instantly.

“Woah!” Says the hot stranger, who still hasn’t told you his name before commanding you to ask him out. “Ya okay?” 

He slaps your back as you wheeze for breath - hard. Is he an athlete in his spare time? How does anyone have that kind of arm strength? 

“I-“ You shut your mouth because actually, you don’t know what to say. How do you respond to that? 

“Come on,” says Mr. Bad Bleach Job. “I heard ya and yer little friend talking about me all the way down the aisle. I know you want in on this sexy ass.” 

He’s ridiculous. Are you - are you into that? You’re seriously reevaluating your mental health even as you say, almost to your own surprise, “Can I take you on a date?” 

He wrinkles his nose. “I dunno. Can ya make it a little more romantic?” 

“Why don’t you ask me out if you’re going to be so demanding?” You challenge. 

“Sure,” he says easily. “Wanna go out? We can get fancy sushi for fun and eat McDonald’s after cause that’s real food.” 

Even you can’t tell if the noise that escapes you is a laugh or a sigh. What have you gotten yourself into? 

“Whatever,” you say, handing him your phone. “I think mine was better.” 

“They both kind of sucked. 5/10 for execution, -2 for sheer cringe, -3 for awkwardness.” 

“Kiyoko, read the room.”

[omega-e123]

i love the way you write Shadow. I don’t know it’s just so in character of him. Not overly flirtatious, but is subtlety suave at affections. 🙏

AHDOSHSOSHSJSS

THANK YOU V MUCH!! REALLY!! IT MEANS A LOT TO ME

It makes me happy to know I’m not deviating too far from his canon personality. (Even though Boom!Shadow that…. I will ignore. IDW is a hit or miss, theres def some characterization I don’t like, and some spot on from past renditions.)

“Mini” Ranting about out his character below.

I like to think that he’s not really familiar with romantic love. It’s all pretty new to him, but that doesn’t mean Shadow isn’t completely in the dark. hehe

To me, he seems like the type of guy to begrudgingly (/p) go to Rouge and Amy for advice, tips, help. Take things nice and easy.

Shadow’s a smart guy! He can figure things out.

Look at him in SA2 when interacting with Eggman. The mysterious mild manipulation of promise granting him a wish if Egg did his bidding for Chaos emeralds. That’s just one example.

He’s also gentle and kind when he wants to be. At heart a really caring person.

Obviously, his relationship with Maria is a prime example.

There’s the instance of when Amy went to hug him from behind, mistaken for Sonic. He doesn’t push her away. Let’s it happen, stay there until she’s realized her mistake. Looking at the cutscene, it sort of looks like when she runs off, Shadow’s curious about her.

Then the time where he saves Rouge from blowing up, risking his self. It was SO close. The timing of when Shadow came to pick her up. There’s ‘06 too. Which again, I think is his best character arc. The power slide to catch Rouge from falling. OOG. I LOVE THAT SCENE SO MUCH. There’s also in heroes where he gets her to safety when Omega went berserk.

Helped out Sonic too— Most notable ones I can think of is jumping in front of Silver, allow Sonic to escape and save Elise. The other one is when the Phantom Ruby copy of him went to fuck Sonic up and he intervened. Also the entirety of Sonic Prime!

I DIGRESS.

Shadow can also at the same time be a smug, prideful, little shit. Loot at that face!!! He’s so proud of himself.

Of course he’s going to distance himself from people. Imagine having someone you deeply care about die right in front of you again. There’s nothing more that could have been done to save you. Yeah, I’d avoid getting too close to people too!

Shadow is a little meow meow that is doing his best. Give this guy a hug.

Update:

After SxSh Gen, he is shown to be SO much more expressive and more open with his emotions with Maria and Professor Gerald. Spoilers ahead!

After meeting them again, he's quick to think about saving them, not thinkng about the consequences of what that may bring.

His anxiety being shown. Reassuring not only them but himself that his family will be fine. Along with actually showing his panic when they begin to disappear. The facial expression and Shadow's tone of voice. He's not hiding it at all.

GOSH THE SMILE. HIS SMILE. THE SLOW WALKING BACKWARDS, NOT WANTING TO BREAK CONTACT WITH MARIA.

As his relationship grows with his significant other, the more connected to his emotions and safe he feels to display them to you and ONLY YOU.

I definitely think comparing his personality 1 year into the relationship versus 10 years is drastic. First year, he's more cautious. Not just with his inner thoughts but with accidentally offending you. Shadow knows he can be blunt and straight forward. Over time he's so much more comfortable telling you waht is on his mind. Shadow still needs his time to brood and collect himself; however, it comes more naturally to him to reach out when needed.

[pianostarinwonderland]

book 8 foreshadow ⁉️ in MY halloween ?!?! 🤯 more likely than u think ! 😳

When I saw Jack Skellington in the last trailer before the Abema stream for this Halloween, I thought, "Oh. Oh this is going to be good. This is going to be so good for the main story."

I've always had a feeling that we were going to meet the Great Seven somehow, where the characters realize the revisions made in the stories they heard of them vs. what actually happened. After all, Twst brings up more than once the idea of history being revised (especially through Lilia's dialogue). And when the first Lost in the Book event with Stitch came out, that possibility has been made even more open. And now with the way this Halloween is written, it feels like a setup for main story.

Halloween, being Twst's biggest event, is the one event that the Twst writers like to use to foreshadow the main story. Halloween 2/Endless Halloween and Glorious Masquerade have been used as foreshadow to Book 7's events. The latter was also used as a kind of reflection of Book 6's story, so in some ways, GloMas was also a transitory period between Book 6 and 7 (and notably, the GloMas stream was also the same stream where they put out the last trailer for Book 7). However, more importantly, in the context of this post, it is worth noting that Halloween 2 came out when Book 6 was still in its first part. Hence, this Nightmare Before Christmas event foreshadowing a Book 8 while we're far from done with Book 7 is very much plausible and that's why I fully believe this.

Here in the Lost in the Book with Tim Burton's Nightmare Before Christmas event, we have Skully J. Graves, a character whose aesthetic not only matches most with Jack Skellington but also idolizes him, who meets his Halloween idol. This is the first time we see any Twst character meeting not only their idol but the Disney character they are twisted from. This is huge! Considering how distant that Twst is set from the time of the villains and heroes, it had always seemed impossible that such a meetup could occur. But slowly, Twst is revealing to us that there are ways that this could happen.

But here's the truly delicious part: We witness Skully learning what kind of person Jack Skellington really is. To Skully (and the community that he grew up in), Jack is a feared Pumpkin King who values the solemn kind of Halloween. However, the real Jack is someone who wants to celebrate Halloween together with people and—at least in the setting of the event—leans towards a Halloween that is more festive and jolly, akin to his wonder for Christmas in the movie. And this shakes Skully to the core, so much so that we see him lose it in Episode 3. We watch him continuously push for his ideas, to the point that he puts his idol to sleep.

If this is foreshadow to Book 8, will we see our characters face that same disillusion? Is that why we have all 7 Overblot characters in this event? Because let's be real, while everyone has a form of admiration for the villains, those 7 are the ones who idolize the Great Seven the most. For fuck's sake, their OB phantoms are the Great Seven in some form. And more importantly: How will they feel learning that everything they've learned is wrong? Will they be like Skully and start fiascos as they cope with the knowledge that has been unfortunately bestowed on them? Or will they grieve for a bit before recovering quickly? Will they, like Skully, start aligning with the opposite side (Skully aligning with Lock, Shock, and Barrel and consequently, Oogie Boogie)? Or will they stay on the same camp, just with more wariness?

But once they get past that, what then will they do? What measures will they take to learn more deeply about the huge historical revisionism that occurs? Will they even do something about it? Where do we play in as the MC that receives these dreams about the stories that did happen?

Something that I do want to bring up is, how do they even meet the Great Seven? One could say, oh they could get sucked into another book, but for characters so grand and worshipped, it feels too little to do something like that. Besides, unless they do something different for the ending of this event, they will come out of the book, not remembering a single thing. Book 7 allowed us to peer into Lilia's past—which felt unreachable—through his dream. Is there a possibility that Malleus might use his unique magic? To peer into someone's dreams about the Great Seven?

... To peer into our dreams?

But imagine if somehow, the Great Seven were alive again and about to wreak havoc in modern Twisted Wonderland. How would they even be revived? I have an old theory about this where the 7 Overblots are used for it. Of course they are just theories made 4 years ago, but it remains as something that haunts me, especially when Idia outright states that someone has to be behind the OBs. We have yet to learn either what occurred between Crowley and Idia's parents in Book 6.

As an end note, it is very intriguing to see where Twst is going. I'm very excited how the main story will turn out from here, and what will happen once we get past the last dorm's arc.

[ivystoryweaver]

With You part 3

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Summary: Jake Lockley has finally met you. What does he think of you, and will he, or Marc, give you any answers?

Pairings: Marc Spector x reader, Jake Lockley x reader (implied Steven Grant x reader). Gender neutral reader. No use of Y/N. Reader is engaged to Marc and Steven.

Word Count: 3k

Warnings/notables: Angst, comfort, references to drinking and alcoholism but it doesn’t happen here, sex but the language is not explicit and no gender-specific body parts mentioned, nightmare, brief crying, cursing, assumptions, longing, feeling inadequate, Khonshu is mean here yall, somebody hug marc spector. Let me know if I missed a warning. Probably inaccurate DID, based on the show.

Dividers by saradika

PREVIOUSLY, on “With You”...

Jake could live without Marc and Steven knowing about him. He’d lived that way all this time, but you were something else. He hadn’t wanted to meet you like this. He had screwed up, and now you were only worried about Marc. He was worried too, honestly.

Now you would never want to know him.

“I’ll sleep on the couch,” Jake decided, by which he was effectively deciding to do nothing. He may be able to eliminate the vilest creatures under night’s shadow, but trying to explain to you that he was the reason your fiancé obliterated his sobriety...

Jake didn’t fear anything. In fact, as the streets of London descended from depraved men to monstrous supernatural threats, he relished his role as Khonshu’s vengeful fist. Someone had to do it, and Jake was suited to the task.

A creature of the night, he savored the quiet, cool leather interior of his car as much as the dingy London air whipping through his white cape. And the more challenging his vicious foes, the more Jake reveled in it. He protected people. That was his sole purpose.

Including Marc and Steven.

So the fact that he somehow missed Marc tossing back a bottle of whiskey and upsetting you in the process, well - if he couldn’t protect you and his alters, then he had no reason to exist. 

So, time for bed. He would fade into darkness and you would get back who you really wanted.

Reaching to scoop up each item of clothing he had discarded, with none of this explained aloud to you, he turned to flee.

“Wait,” you pleaded, blocking his pathway out of the bedroom, your hands reaching out to push back gently against the pile in his arms. His gaze fell on yours - open, yet unreadable. Not menacing, but not to be bothered. His eyes didn’t flicker away like Marc’s. He stared you down, waiting.

 “Just wait a second, Jake,” you found yourself whispering, a bit transfixed. “Where do you usually sleep?”

Lips parting in anticipation, your heart did some clichéd somersaulting as he tore his eyes from yours and nodded to your bed.

“You sleep with me?” You clarified, dumbfounded.

Dark eyes flickered momentarily down to your mouth. His tongue swiped over the fullness of his bottom lip before dragging it between his teeth.

“I sleep with you.” 

The rich timbre of his voice electrified you.

“Only so you can wake up with them.”

Air rushed out of you in a mildly dramatic exhale. What was this man doing to you? 

“Please,” you whispered, unsure of what you were even asking him. Mostly, you didn’t want to be without them. You had waited all night, terrified. “Don’t go. I was so worried.”

Eyes narrowing suspiciously, Jake nodded once. He knew what you needed, and it wasn’t him.

Ten minutes later, after what was, for you, an unbearable silence, Jake climbed into bed with you. Having washed up and making his well-fitting ensemble disappear somehow (where did he keep his clothes?), he decided on Steven’s soft pajamas. The sleeves sagged adorably, covering his hands, but Jake’s fingers didn’t fidget like his alter’s. 

How many times had he done this? Pretended to be them? And were you okay with it? Was it even really your business? It was his body too. 

The lights remained off from before, allowing you the cover of darkness to ease under the blankets, as if acting in a play. 

If Marc were with you, he would pull your back against his chest, folding you close until either your body relaxed, or until his lips breathed salacious words on your ear while his hand slipped between your legs. Either that, or he would bury his face in your tummy, the way he had done that morning. That, too, often ended up with him between your legs. 

For Steven, it was the crook of your neck, latched on to you like a koala. After years of sleeping poorly, or trying his damndest to stay awake and not “sleepwalk”, nothing soothed him more than your soft skin and reassuring arms. He marvelously discovered that, with you, he had no trouble falling asleep at all. For Steven, the mornings were when he needed you most. The two of you would race to the bathroom, playfully fighting over who would freshen up first before tumbling back into bed, where he would be sure to end up between your legs. 

But here, now, Jake was a statue. 

You were Marc and Steven’s whole world. Jake knew he had fucked up enough for one week. There was no way he was moving one millimeter in this bed. Hopefully, the warm surge in this heart would settle to the soothing sound of your breathing. That was his balm - you were his anchor. After the cracking of bones and the wailing of night’s creatures deafening his ears - the gentle rise and fall of your chest in the night was his lullaby.

But he didn’t dare touch you. You weren’t his. 

Sometimes you attached yourself to him the night, or maybe he only dreamed that you did. He was never him when sleep ended.

Feeling the tension rolling off you, the urge to somehow alleviate your worries taunted him. But he was certain he didn’t even possess the ability to soothe, only to punish.

So he said nothing. He did nothing. He waited for sleep.

“Jake...” As you turned to him, your sweet voice crawled up his neck, intoxicating him utterly. “Would it be okay if I held your hand?”

The memory of your smooth skin was seared into his memory from the featherlight kiss he’d given your knuckles. He didn’t even hesitate to grasp for you in the dark, tangling his fingers with yours.

Pressing your face to the soft fabric covering his shoulder, you, undeniably realistic you, accepted this real moment. You wanted answers. You wanted a lot of things. He gave you his hand. You took what was here, now.

“I’m glad to know you, Jake,” you whispered, your heavy eyes sliding closed, despite everything. Squeezing his fingers, and swiping your thumb softly along his, you added, “I hope you’ll come back to me soon.”

You woke up to a mess of chocolate curls buried in your stomach.

Marc. 

Your sweet, tormented angel. 

There was a slight chance it wasn’t Marc, but the familiar whimpers of a nightmare gave him away even more than tummy cuddles. 

“Shhh,” you soothed, raking your fingernails through his messy waves. “I’ve got you.”

He squeezed you, murmuring, “No,” brokenly before whimpering again. His nightmares weren’t flailing arms and shouts like in films. They were this: soft, pleading mumbles and anguished pleas.

With a sudden change in his breath, he was awake, eyes darting wildly as he climbed his way up your body, hands checking you frantically.

“Right here, baby,” you murmured, eyes soft and full of love. He looked so broken, you wanted to cry, while desire simultaneously ripped up your spine. Whatever this man of yours needed, you were going to give him, likely, to your great pleasure and benefit. Win-win. 

“You’re here,” he repeated, gathering you in his strong arms as the weight of his body crushed you in the most delicious way. “I dreamed you were gone. You left, or...or someone took you away from me.”

��Never,” you uttered with conviction, pressing your lips to the corner of his jaw, opening your mouth to breathe hotly before kissing a trail to his ear. “I’ll never let that happen. I’ll burn down the whole world first.”

A choked sob erupted from his chest as he whispered your name. Fusing his lips with yours, his fingers gripped your jaw desperately as if he feared you would quite literally slip through them.

Responding to the press of his body like a partner in a well-rehearsed dance, your legs fell open, ready to feel the heat of him consuming you. His mouth hadn’t left yours, but his thick fingers dragged (his) t-shirt up your torso and over your head.

Only then, when your lips parted, did his dark, desperate gaze lock onto yours. “Need you,” he groaned, his voice tinged with the slight beg you associated with Steven.

Surging forward, you met his furious kiss with equal hunger, pushing under his soft pajamas, pulling, dragging until your naked limbs were tangled, pressing and pulling in desperate passion. 

“You’re mine,” he growled, deep inside you, claiming you, as if you had any doubt or desire to be apart from him. “He can’t h-have you. I won’t let him.”

You were oddly turned on by the idea that maybe he sounded jealous of Jake, who had merely held your hand in the dark.

He didn’t mean Jake.

In fact, he wasn’t even aware you’d held an audience with his mysterious alter.

No, he meant the twisted, deceitful, formidable Egyptian god of the moon, to whom he remained enslaved. The one who took you away in his dream.

The things Marc was doing to your body - you could barely think straight. Your back arched in pleasure, your fingers clawing at the sculpted muscles of his back, desperate to somehow bring him even closer to you. 

“I’m yours,” you gasped, realizing with the deep moan that followed, that you didn’t really have control over your voice at this point.

“Mine,” he repeated, as you drowned in him, and he in you. 

After a long, hot shower together, filled with salacious kisses and some very naughty handiwork, the two of you finally made it to the kitchen. Just like in bed, you danced around one another with practiced ease, as if perfectly executing the blocking of a play. Your hand reached for the coffee grounds, while he readied the filter. He found the bread while you produced his favorite jam.

Shoulders rubbed and soft smiles were exchanged, eyes longingly dancing, locking and flittering away to the tasks at hand. 

“Thank you,” he finally said, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple, “for this morning.”

You almost teased him for thanking you for what you two did quite regularly in bed, but you knew what he meant. Whatever anchor he’d needed this morning, you were it. 

Still, you were a cheeky one, as Steven frequently reminded you... “I should be thanking you, baby,” you innocently purred. “That thing you did...when you turned me over, holy shit--”

“Okay, okay,” he laughed out, motioning for you to get back to breakfast, as if he would ever actually order you about. “You and your dirty mind, I swear to god.” 

You laughed out delightedly. “That’s rich, Mr. Spector.”

One of his dark eyebrows shot up. “Call me ‘Mr. Spector’ again and I’ll take you right back in there,” he playfully warned. 

Tempting. 

The toast popped up to interrupt the two of you, giving Marc’s thoughts just enough time to drift back to much more serious matters. He wanted to be with you all day today. He knew Steven had class at uni and you had work - he didn’t care. He needed you to know things.

“Hey, um...” he started, before you could make another quip about Mr. Spector or the bedroom, “I...I meant to tell you...” reaching up to rub the back of his neck, he swallowed nervously. “I--there’s another bottle. In the flat.” 

Bracing his hands on the countertop, his head dropped. It was hard to look at you when he thought he might disappoint you. “I wasn’t trying to hide it, I just...that night, I...”

Reaching over, you laid your hand over his, there on the counter’s edge. “Thank you for letting me know. Do you want to tell me where it is?”

His eyes darted over to yours and he swallowed hard. “The low shelf, down by the edge of that old table I haven’t fixed yet.”

Ah yes, the ‘don’t throw it out, I can fix it’ project that was cluttering your living room. Steven collected books; Marc collected abandoned, broken things...

“Hm,” you hummed thoughtfully, “Steven’s reading chair is right there. He’s going to figure this out, you know.”

“I know,” Marc quickly responded. “I think I wanted him to. Or you. I don’t know...” He didn’t wait for any sympathy. There was too much to tell you before he completely train wrecked his entire life.

“Something happened,” he pressed on, determined. Then he told you. Head bowed, hands gripping the counter, he explained.

You remained completely still at first, but you noticed that the more you acted normal, the easier it was for him to talk. So you finished the coffee, slathered the toast with jam, and walked everything to the tiny table at the kitchen’s edge, where the two of you loved to share your favorite meal almost every single day.

He had fronted a few days ago. It was dark, cold. He was outside, in an unlit, ominously quiet alley. He didn’t know where he was. Steven wasn’t there with him. He reached for his phone and shook with horror at the white bandage-looking material wrapped around his hands. Realizing his face was covered with a mask, he started to panic when the fabric quickly receded, leaving him gasping.

His body was covered in Moon Knight’s mummified wrap. 

“No, no, no, no,” he cried, forgetting, for a moment, that he could simply will the suit away, and clawing at the material instead. 

Then he heard it. Him.

“Marc Spector,” the booming voice of Khonshu splintered through his mind, wracking his body with terror. 

“No, NO,” Marc shouted, climbing to his feet and pressing his palms into his forehead. “You’re gone. I don’t belong to you anymore!” 

He ran, clinging to control of the body, determined not to allow Khonshu anywhere near Steven. Or you. 

The old god’s skeletal form appeared on various rooftops, following and taunting Marc, his voice eerie and all consuming, as if the bird were nearly shouting into his ear. 

“Run away if you can. This body doesn’t belong to you,” the voice taunted. 

“Leave me alone!” Marc shouted, but it came out as more of a whimper, like trying to scream for help in a dream. “We had a deal!” He halted, banging his fists against his head as if it would make the ancient being simply evaporate. 

But the spiteful deity scoffed, turning his bony back as if done with the conversation. Turning his menacing beak back toward the puny one in control of his avatar, he replied, “Lockley is mine, and so are you.”

Then he vanished. 

Just the relief of the god disappearing urged Marc’s legs forward, stumbling through angry tears until he reached your home. You were at work. He paced the flat, tugging his hands through his hair, desperate to keep Steven in the dark. 

“It can’t be,” he gasped, over and over again, trying to convince himself. “We’re free. We made a deal. We’re free.” This overwhelm would normally bring Steven to the front, but Marc held on, pacing himself to exhaustion. He was asleep on the couch by the time you came home. 

You woke up to Steven. And while you worked your next shift, he bought the whiskey. 

He waited another day to drink it.

“I thought maybe...I wondered if I had completely lost my mind,” he uttered, finishing his story, now seated at the kitchen table.

Easing off your chair, you knelt in front of your fiancé, setting your palms gently on his thighs.

“Don’t say that.”

“No, I mean really,” he went on, his hands covering your own, grasping at your fingers. “I thought...what if all this time, Khonshu was in my head? Like...part of me.”

“Like another alter?” you questioned, peering up at him.

“Maybe. I started wondering about all of this Moon Knight bullshit--if it even really happened. And, now there’s this Lockley...” Trailing off he sighed, defeated. 

Okay, progress was happening. Might as well get it all out in the open. 

“I met him, you know,” you carefully admitted, smoothing your thumb over his as you waited for his reaction. “Lockley.”

“Shit,” he rasped, gripping your hands desperately. “He was here, with you? What did he say?”

“Not much,” you admitted. “His name is Jake. Jake Lockley. He was here last night.”

“Here in the flat?”

“Yes. Late last night. He came in through the bedroom window like Spider-Man or something. We talked for a minute, he told me his name and then we went to bed. I didn’t really find out that much about him.”

Releasing your fingers, Marc sat up straight in his kitchen chair, his eyes darkening possessively. “He went to bed with you?”

Hm. You could have worded that better. “Marc, I--”

“Did he touch you?” His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck straining as his dark eyes burned turbulently. 

“It wasn’t like that,” you protested, quickly climbing up off the ground to stand in front of him. Caressing his face tenderly, you shook your head. “I wanted to talk to him - to see what the hell is going on. He seemed worried about you drinking.”

“You talked to him about that?” Marc pushed off his chair then, pacing across the kitchen and back. “I haven’t even talked to him yet.” 

Fair enough. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, it just came out,” you confessed, giving him a little space, while pushing down your urge to grab him. “Jake was about to leave, and I wanted some answers. I wanted you all here with me. He came home so late, Marc, and your phone was dead. I was so fucking scared...”

Your breath hitched as tears clouded your eyes. “You’ve been so upset, and the drinking... Steven doesn’t have any idea what’s going on and then this Jake uses the damn window in the middle of the night and I thought he was going to leave, and go back out in the night, with no phone. I wanted you here, Marc, so...so I asked him to stay. I asked him if he knew what was going on, or why you had been drinking--”

“Okay, baby, okay,” he conceded, reaching for your shoulders to bring you close. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”

The two of you held one another in the middle of your drafty little kitchen, the shared answers between you only raising more questions. 

“I think you should talk to Steven,” you suggested gently, “if you feel ready.”

Resting his forehead against yours, he rubbed your back soothingly. “Yeah. And maybe...maybe Jake too.”

tags requested @rivalriotrenegade @wordacadabra

[marbl3z]

thats actually all I have for a title. Aventurine x afab! reader

Also, I love his voice so fucking much holy shit can I JUST SAY. I WAS IN THE MIDDLE OF A SMUT AND THIS SONG CAME ON AND PHONE SEX. ANYWAY

MDNI 18++++ LEAVE THIS NOW. THIS IS ACTUALLY THE SLUTTIEST THING IVE WRITTEN IN YEARS.

CW: petnames, VERY VERY DESCRIPTIVE PHONE SEX, LIKE. REALLY BAD, Mutual masturbation, moaning, voice kink, IMAGINATION, clit/cock terms, sexting/pictures/phone sex, literally as far as you can think.

"hey baby..." his voice was low and deep through the phone.

"hi love, what you doing awake? Isn't it late there?" You lay on your bed, fidgeting with your sheets.

"missed you so much, had you on my brain all day." You can hear a smile through his voice, you smile softly.

"mm, that's sweet. I'm sure those meetings were really boring.." you mumble, listening to his hum in response.

It wasn't often you two were together, he was always busy with IPC meetings and plans. When he was with you it was almost as if he never left.

"what have you been doing?" He asks, his voice going to a low whisper. You think back on the day on anything notable.

"hmm... nothing much, I did some work and cleaned around the place."

"that's good, 'm proud of you." Your cheeks burn from the praise, Everytime he gave you a compliment or praise it always made your heart flutter. "God, I miss you so much. I wish you were here with me."

"me too, maybe one day they'll let me tag along haha." A soft chuckle echos through his line.

"haha, maybe. I'll have to ask though- I'm sure I'll get no extra work done with you around..." aventurine purrs through the phone.

"yeah.. I'll take up all your time."

"..."

"Aventurine?" You check to see if the line disconnected but it seems to be fine. Suddenly you hear a soft groan.

"baby, I wish I could taste you right now..." your eyes widen as you realize what's happening. Your face turns completely red, his moans echo through the phone.

"are you..—"

"ah.. fuuck." He slides his hand over his aching bulge. The silk pajamas restraining him tightly. "Fuck, sorry.. I just— hearing your voice after so long. Drives me insane.."

You slide your hands down your own body, dipping past your waistband and touching yourself. A small gasp escapes your lips as you throb against your hand. "Ha.. Imagine how I feel, every little emphasis— every gasp of air you take. You make me crazy.." you mumble, eyes fluttering close as the pleasure washes over you.

"baby, can you do something for me?"

"mhm.."

"tell me what you're doing.. describe it to me.." he pleads, squeezing his cock and letting out a moan.

"ah.. 'm touching myself— rubbing my clit.. thinking about you touching me." You whimper.

"are you still wearing pajamas?" He whines, you hum. "Take them off, undress for me angel." You comply and slowly begin to undress the cold air of the room hitting your skin and makes a pleasant shiver go down your spine.

You hear a shuffle on the other end as you lay down on the soft bed, a sigh emits from Aventurine's mouth. "Can you tell me what you're thinking about?" You whisper, he groans before letting out a soft chuckle and a soft "mhm".

"thinking about rubbing that soft clit of yours in gentle circles, or maybe eating you out until you're a moaning mess. Stare into your eyes as I slowly push inside." He throws his head back as he strokes his cock slowly— teasing himself.

Your breathing increases, your fingers dip into your dripping cunt. You let out a moan as he whimpers into the phone, his voice shaking "go on baby, touch yourself while you think of me doing so many things to you."

Your body burns, you spread your legs further apart and slowly start pushing a finger inside, it's been so long since he's touched you. Your stomach erupts in butterflies as you think of his hands guiding you to your heat.

"you're so good for me, so perfect, so beautiful." He praises as you moan as you speed up. You put the phone on speaker as you rub your clit along with fingering yourself.

"ah- aventurine, fuck... I wish you were here. Oh... I wish you could touch me."

"oh fuuck." He whimpers as he speeds up, low groans and moans echo his hotel room as he drips precum all over his hand. "Wish I could fuck you so good right now, make soft love to you. Make you orgasm and cum all over me, all over my cock."

You left out a high pitched gasp, your walls tighten around your fingers as your back arches, a moan draws out of your throat.

"your noises are so fucking cute, so needy. Ah- I can only imagine how wet you are... can I have a picture please baby?"

You whimper as you grab your phone and flip the camera to face yourself, taking a picture of your fingers deep in your cunt, arousal dripping out. You send it to him and a few seconds past and you hear a loud groan.

"oh fuck.. look at you," he moans in between his words, his legs go weak as he looks at you touching yourself. "Fuck, baby- fuuck.." he moans, biting his lip and speeding up.

"i- I'm so close.." you whine through the moans, "oh fuck, baby- I'm so close." You moan into the pillow. "Aah.."

"I'm close too," his voice is shaking as he strokes himself in full strokes. "I'm thinking of stretching that pretty pussy out, going so slow for you, make you take all of me. Make you feel so full inside," you bite your lip, whimpering out bables.

"aventurine.." you moan out his name. He lets out a loud groan.

"say my name again, please baby- I'm so close"

"Aventurine..." You speed up even faster, rubbing your clit— the pleasure going to your head as you reach that high you've been craving. "Aventurine, oh– I'm gonna cum"

"cum for me baby, let yourself go, I'm right here." He whines, hips twitching as he reaches his high too, his cock pulses and twitches in his hand as he lets out a wobbly moan.

your back arches and your legs shake as your orgasm crashes against you so hard, you bite your lip to stop yourself from being too loud. You can only think about him, how he feels against your skin, how he would touch you— Him, Aventurine.

"I love you, I love you so much." He whispers, catching his breath.

"mm... I love you too, Aventurine," you hum sleepily, reaching over the nightstand and wiping cum off yourself. Hissing at the sensitivity, he laughs.

"I made such a mess." He sighs. "Thank you— for being so goddamn perfect..."

"thank you for having the sexiest bedroom voice" you tease, your heart swells in adoration as he lets out a breathy laugh.

--

UH I DONT WANNA WRITE ANYTHING ELSE SO HERE AHAHA

[sugar-crash]

🍬King Candy (Wreck-It Ralph) x (gn) Reader👑

(Past-lover Reader Edition)

(Picture’s not mine!)

(Yeah so… Whenever I try to link something from both my main and this blog it doesn’t load so… Don’t know what’s up with that 😭 Also sorry if this is a wordy text I just had so much to talk about)

- Honestly, as “lame” (trust me it is NOT) as this is it strikes a particular cord with me, like the concept of him being with someone before RoadBlasters, and years of hiding away in either the bowels for game central station or in Sugar Rush under a different identity they come back to him— But doesn’t recognize him… HOW?

- Jokes aside both personalities share a whole lot of similarities, more than he likes slip out, does just that the bouts of easily provoked rage, selfishness, the drive to win, the attention seeking— And yeah makes them look at one another in confusion but he’s all they know, so, why would they question him?

- Just everything is Turbo underneath a more notable lisp, fake cheerful disposition, and a soft sugary look, he may be a bit more cunning I mean he had a lot of time to think to himself, and nicer but that niceness is conditional.

- Who knows, maybe that’s what lured you in, nostalgia and deja vú that you sum up from Sugar Rush being a racing game like Turbo Time, a lot of mental gymnastics would have to be done to excuse the shit Candy slips up with.

- I mean, you’re an outlier, a disembodied number, he didn’t keep in mind when he usurped the throne— I mean, you’d think you’d avoid racing games after what happened to him. Makes him a bit resentful towards you at first, after all this time of trying to forget his mistakes you come waltzing in with an in awe look on your face, eager to see the new racers and new environment of sugar and spice.

(Dnypsyadnq, dnypsyadnq)

- A part of him wonders how you don’t know, I mean he doesn’t expect you to discover him the first time you meet— But the more and more you guys interact he’s left speechless by how you don’t know, you loved him didn’t you? … The other part is glad you don’t, one less person to extort to keep his secrets, make his life even more easier than it already was as a highly privileged patriarch.

- I think he tries to “covertly” push you away from Sugar Rush, not wanting the reminder that he fucked up his life drastically, but like a cockroach— Which I do see him calling you while venting about you to Sour Bill or one of the doughnut police before scoffing and asking himself why he even bothers, they could never understand.

- And if you keep on coming back, whether it be from general curiosity to Sugar Rush or coming back for him specifically to talk to, so much so he has to just deal with it begrudgingly, grumbling to himself as he catches himself looking at you whenever he can… Which of course he plays off as just being annoyed by your presence as you rattle off about your day almost just like you used to back in the good old days.

- I mean, he plays it off as a “following the code” kind of thing… But everyone knows he’s full of shit to a degree, as sneaky as he can be for much of his antics, you bring about such a palpable sense of emotion from King Candy, like a person constantly being reminded of a past they desire to go back to… But many disregard it as a simple cartoonish rivalry with how he taunts you, vaguely reminding you of how Turbo used to, to the point where you keep coming for more, a concept well known and even expected in the arcade. It can’t possibly be something serious… Can it?

- No one expects such a brightly colored game to have anything serious to it, but here’s King Candy, with his C.L.A.W force and manipulation when he thinks his position is threatened, threatening to put you into the fungeon but never following through for some reason. A part of him admits that you make him a bit more softer, there’s a sense of nostalgia tied to you that lures him in every time.

(Jx ilufkc xlt jnyks lkix dnypsyadnq)

- Honestly in any form of relationship that may occur, lies will be in it, even before the whole RoadBlasters situation he lied to you, a lot, I mean, it’s like second nature to him— Even after all this time it hasn’t changed, I mean— He’s basing your “new” relationship on a lie, a big fat bitch of a lie, pardon my potty mouth.

- Honestly I believe he’d be reluctant to even start a friendship with you because he’d be so afraid of being found out, especially by you… But of course he gets more daring, cocky even as he realizes you truly aren’t putting the pieces together.

- A whole lot of things could happen in this situation, how far can he go before you start getting suspicious of him when he slips up? Do you even have the capacity to and it sticking in a compelling way? I think after a while he just steadily keeps you closer and closer, clutching onto the physical memory of his past as a means to make himself feel a better, as “blameless” as he may act he has his regrets and having you around happens to calm them down, if only for a moment.

- I mean, I have expressed my curiosity over this time and time again but I simply can’t stop thinking about it. The arcade characters are their own beings, with their own thoughts and choices, but, from what I can tell at the very least, there’s a palpable disconnect that keeps them from being fully complex in their emotions in a “real way”, which is a good way of conveying that even though they may act human they are still the product of humans. Which I kinda believe may have been less effective with the earlier arcade games, much like game mechanics and imagery, slowly evolving.

- As much as they may imitate humanity they aren’t, so, something that comes across to a gamer as odd may be called out— To a game character it’s just one of their fellow coworkers or in King Candy’s case a ‘pre-programmed’ leader simply being themselves, they don’t know anything else beyond that after all.

(Xltp hfqq vyq qtad y qaypnr sdfkc sl jn)

- Even with this all and his over exaggerated attitude, I believe that unlike the other arcade cabinets of his time, he’s probably able to realize things some things, the existentialism of being a creation to a creator that was made for the entertainment of higher beings, forever racing around a race track—

- The sense of purpose and mortality that clenched at his soul when RoadBlasters started taking it away with better graphics, better mechanics, better everything. I mean Ralph said he and his game were “very lucky” to have had gone on for so long without any problems regarding the game, it can be argued that Turbo was probably deeply afraid of that due to him valuing his life and his place in the arcade, especially with people like you at his side, having so much to lose and still making the wrong decisions.

- I see him venting about it to you, you guys were close after all, that burst of negative emotions that you couldn’t do nothing to quell as he searches and searches till he finally comes to a conclusion, much like how Ralph did when he wanted to prove himself to the Nice Landers and Fix-It Felix that he was more than what he was programmed.

- I don’t think he’d treat it with sorrow, hell, in the movie he doesn’t. He’s so keen to give himself new purpose when he old one loses the wonder that made it so special to the gamers, not giving anything a thought, not even you, as he takes that plunge, racing car revving as he’s able to sneak it into RoadBlasters.

- Or even as he proudly displayed himself cruising around the screen of RoadBlasters before violently crashing into the main character's kart, breaking both games with his missteps and having to hide away in the bowels of the Game Central Station, only watching people from afar like a more spiteful and prideful Phantom of the the Opera.

- Gazing at you from afar, a part of himself so intrinsically tied to you he could never deny it, I think he makes a promise to himself that inevitably doesn’t keep, keeping away from you. There’s some tragedy to be considered in this situation for both parties, even if they don’t know it till it’s too late.

(I ayks enifnun fs’q gtqs y etpkfkc jnjlpx

This is more of a word barf than anything, again my school has been killing my creative ideas so this may be… Derivative.)

[gamerbot-22]

HI. I SAW YR REQUESTS ARE OPEN AND I DESPERATELY NEED CHUBBY READER X KNIVES.

I always thought Kni would be fascinated with a chubby human. they are soft and squishy and kind even when he’s mean to them and thats not something he associates with humans often so ywah.!

if you cant tell I love this guy.

YEAAAAA FUCK YEAH I LIKE WHERE YOUR HEAD’S AT—[checks ur bio]—QUEEN. Oh man, I love doing requests so much, y’all come to me with the fuckin’ sickest ideas. Also thank you for handing me a Nai GIF on a silver plater that’s v helpful of you ✨

Millions Knives/Nai x Sweet Chubby Reader

TW/CWs: Nai is Nai (both /pos and /neg), romance is implied but tbh this could all be read as platonic, written with TriStamp Nai in mind but feel free to slot your favorite version in here if you so choose, the words fat and chubby are used neutrally and interchangeably to describe the reader, Nai has feelings he refuses to unpack, barely proofread but I appreciate spellchecks.

A/N: I was a little stuck on how I wanted to do this but God, once I found that groove it was insane. Like… the physical softness mixing with the emotional softness of the reader? That’s some fun stuff to explore to me, so I really hope you like it!

Likes and Reblogs are always appreciated, Requests are open, and it’s all under the cut!

The dividers in this post were made by @/adornedwithlight ☆

SO let’s get into it, yeah? I’ve seen crews on the SEEDS ship in both versions of the anime and everyone there is fit as hell so like??? Honestly with his hermit lifestyle, I’d say there’s a non-zero chance of you being one of if not the first fat person he’s ever met personally.

I don’t think it changes much of his perception of you at first—humans are humans, regardless of shape—but there is something interesting about how you just... take it? When he talks shit about humanity? Like he calls humanity a parasite, a disease, and instead of shrinking or averting your gaze from him for the rest of the day you ask him if he’s hungry. Him. Hungry. What??

He’s not shy about his confusion. After a couple notable instances of this he straight up just asks why you’re so unbothered by it when every other human he has to deal with has some kind of sore spot about it. Maybe humans didn’t treat you well either, so you agree with him. He understands. Maybe you want to see what happens with a Plant in charge. He thinks you’re insane, and tells you so, but doesn’t otherwise hurt you (not while you’re still useful and… interesting.) Maybe you just think he still deserves to be listened to despite it all. Isn’t it a basic need to be listened to? That reminds him of some people he’d rather not think about. He probably ignores you for a while after that.

But you can’t even let him ignore you! You still come to him, unlike anything he’d ever seen with your soft hands and body, offering warm words and attention despite his clear (surface-level) distaste for whatever it is you have to say.

You know lonely when you see it, and you’re persistent. An unstoppable force meets an immovable object until one day, when he’s feeling especially raw he just breaks. He doesn’t shatter completely, but there’s cracks in his facade when he lets you wrap your arms around his shoulders and give him a squeeze, assuring him that he doesn’t have to return the embrace if he doesn’t want to. And he doesn’t, for the record, he just wants to… sit in it. Your body keeps heat better than his ever could—it’s the one drawback of being a Plant at times—and you’re soft, both around his neck and in his ears as you just stand there, breathing. He can feel your heartbeat and you’re not even a little frightened, even after seeing first hand the kind of terror he puts in the hearts of your fellow humans.

He can’t remember the last time someone hugged him. Probably not since her. It makes him bitter, but at the same time he dares not push you away. Not yet, at least. You’re a human, and to him you’re either insane or stupid to think he’ll spare you at the end of this, but… you’re still useful for now. He’ll keep you and your soft body within arm’s reach, letting you wrap around him so he could feel the warmth of another body. You can stay until he’s certain he can be rid of you.

Whenever that might be.

[honey-beann]

Sooo does this mean we can get some nines fluff? plssss?

Sweet, and Soft, and Gentle

Nines x Reader

Well, this certainly isn't the fluffiest thing I've ever written, but here's a little fic that I wrote randomly last night because I am weak to whatever the hell this trope is haha. I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1,643

The front desk assistant walked quickly into the bullpen, looking a little bit nervous as he cleared his throat slightly, catching the attention of everyone there as he did so (much to his chagrin).

Today was his very first day without the desk manager present after she had called out sick, and of course that also had to be the day that an unexpected visitor with an almost unbelievable reason for coming in waltzed her way into the office, asking for someone that the poor assistant had never once heard anyone ask for before.

So now, here he was, walking as quickly as he could without causing alarm in an attempt to stay ahead of you so that he had the opportunity to ask the many precinct workers if they happened to know anyone by your name.

Sure, you had requested one man in particular, but he just couldn't imagine what someone like you could ever need someone like him for, so he opted instead to announce your presence to the entire room in hopes of someone you actually knew telling him that it was okay if you came in to visit without a supervising attendee present.

"Sorry to bother you guys, but I have someone by the name of-"

"Nines?"

Your voice was a little quiet and hesitant as you spoke, as if you were worried you might be in the wrong place.

Immediately, all eyes shifted from the front desk assistant to you, including a pair of steely gray orbs that had notably not been watching the man standing at the front of the room prior to your voice being heard.

To everyone's surprise, the android who went by the very same name you had spoken stood up, abandoning his coat on the back of his chair, which he left two entire feet away from his desk as he made his way over to you.

And that alone was a shock.

Nines was the office neat freak, and regardless of weather, when he moved away from his desk he always put that jacket of his on, no matter how brief the trip away would be.

And to leave his chair out of place?

It was almost unthinkable to imagine he would do something like that. Hell, he even begrudgingly pushed Gavin's in when the detective left it sitting away from his desk.

But here Nines was, walking toward you, a stranger to damn near everyone in the office, as if nothing else in the world ever had or ever would matter more.

You let out what appeared to be a sigh of relief at the man's approach, smiling tiredly up at him as he offered you a faint grin, one that touched his eyes far more than it did his lips.

"Button."

He said as he grew closer, causing nearly the entire office to look around at one another in surprise.

Had Nines just used a pet name?

You blushed a bit but took a few steps forward, meeting the android closer than you would have otherwise as he reached down to cup the side of your cheek, allowing you to lean into his touch contentedly.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of this sudden visit?"

He asked gently, causing you to shrug your shoulders a bit in response, cheeks still pink with embarrassment.

"I uh, I had to make a delivery next door and thought I would pop in to say hi, but then I learned that I wasn't actually on your guest list yet so I tried to back out of it, except I didn't want anyone at the desk to think I was just some weirdo who had been trying to get in randomly so I decided to ask if someone could escort me in to say hello... Kind of a dumb idea in retrospect..."

You sighed, gaze cast downward as the android in front of you raised a brow at your words, clearly confused about something, but more than patient enough to allow you to finish your thought.

"I'm sorry for bothering you at work."

You continued softly, refusing to make eye contact with Nines until he tutted and used two of his fingers to lightly push your chin upward, all but forcing you to look him in the eye as he spoke.

"Listen to me, Button."

He said almost sternly, though his eyes were alight with a slightly smug amusement,

"You're never a bother."

You sputtered a bit at the kindness of the android's words, but had very little time to reply before Nines was turning towards the desk assistant.

"Why couldn't you find her on my accepted visitors list? Is the system down?"

He asked, his tone full of a nearly unkind sternness far different from the one he had regarded you with as he spoke.

The assistant blanched.

"To be honest Detective, I never checked... During my training I was told that you never got visitors, so I had assumed that you just didn't allow for them..."

Nines scoffed, turning his attention back towards you, expression as apologetic and soothing as ever,

"It was only a misunderstanding."

He said gently, tucking a few loose strands of hair behind your ear as he glanced back toward the desk assistant,

"One that I am sure will be remedied in the future."

That sentence was damn near growled, and the assistant was quick to nod before rushing off under the guise of work.

Strange, considering his lunch break was only three minutes away.

Nines however, could not have cared less about how much he had undoubtedly frightened the young man, and instead leaned forward, bumping his forehead lightly against your own as he sighed, murmuring a quiet apology before you shook your head and stood on your toes in order to press a sweet kiss against his lips.

Nines seemed a bit surprised at this, but grinned nonetheless, reaching an arm around your back and using it to tug you closer before he gently applied a downward pressure, urging you to stand normally as he leaned further forward to better accommodate for the height difference the two of you shared.

The entire room watched on in awe save for a few pairs of exasperated eyes, which remained mostly trained on the screens in front of them.

But to everyone else, this was far too jarring to even imagine looking away from.

It just didn't make sense.

You were sweet and soft and oh so gentle, everything a city like Detroit could've eaten up and spat out in a second.

And Nines was well...

Nines.

Even those who were closest to him would call him unyielding at best, and occasionally outright cruel at worst.

No one had ever seen him bend to the will of anything.

So why was he quite literally bending down to press his lips to yours as you all but melted into his touch, obviously soothed by his typically threatening presence?

The entire precinct watched on in shock as you smiled against the rk900's lips, pulling away after a few seconds to plant a gentle kiss to the very tip of his nose as he chuckled quietly, his eyes rolling ever so slightly in a way that made it obvious how much he enjoyed your foolish expression of adoration.

"You have a very interesting way of saying hello, little one."

Nines said softly, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he regarded you with amusement, eyes following the gentle curve of your smile lovingly.

You blushed a bit, but couldn't help but grow giddy beneath his gaze, mouth opening slightly to comment,

"Are you not a fan?"

You asked, watching as Nines all but scoffed before shaking his head,

"No, I think I prefer the way you go about things presently over anything else you might come up with."

He teased before planting a soft kiss against your forehead and pulling away, glancing towards the bullpen full of officers and detectives who were staring shamelessly at the two of you.

Usually, he would roll his eyes, or even laugh if he caught the entire room watching him like that, but this time he ignored them completely, glancing down at you and offering his arm before speaking again.

"How about I take you out to lunch to make up for all of the confusion, hmm little one? Make coming to visit a little bit more worthwhile?"

You grinned and nodded in response, grabbing his arm and taking a few steps towards the exit alongside him when you suddenly stopped, gasping lightly as you realized that Nines was missing something he would typically consider important.

"Your jacket!"

You announced, dashing over to the garment before knocking the chair it had been hanging on back into the spot against his desk with your hip thoughtlessly, your smile dangerously close to contagious for all who watched as you rushed back to the man who remained standing near the doorway, amusement evident in his expression.

"Thank you, Button."

He said genuinely as you grew closer, holding his familiar white jacket out to him,

"Whatever would I do without you?"

You laughed cheerily at that, and everyone watched as you took Nines' arm once more, walking out of the building and into the warm afternoon air side by side.

The room was silent for a few moments afterward, before murmurs began breaking out around the office, until finally everything got quiet again after Gavin piped up rather loudly,

"Who the hell was that?!"

He shouted, a confusion that nearly everyone in the room shared evident in his tone.

But still, not everyone had been left in the dark, and three men sitting at their respective desks spoke up in accidental unison to prove it, all of them sounding mildly exasperated and reasonably amused.

"His wife."

[cozage]

Hi hi so I was wondering if you could write OP scenarios on the next island you reach is your home island. Like how would they react if they see you so happy more than you are sailing the world. But of course we need a fluff ending that’s like silly boy don’t you know nothing can compare to being with you? AHSSHHNANSJIK sorry I’m literally freaking out over my own thoughts 💀

A/N: I think this is a super cute little thing!! And I hope you do too! I just did Luffy, but if you want other characters, make sure you let me know when I reopen my requests! :)  (editing to add this is not Luffy's birthday post it was just coincidental that this was in the queue for his birthday!)

Characters: gn reader x Luffy

Cw: just cute fluff :) 

Total word count: 600

Home is Where the Heart is

The next island came into view, and you saw the red and white candy striped lighthouse that you remembered so fondly. 

“Nami,” you said, excitement rising in your voice. “What island are we heading to?”

“I couldn’t find anything on the maps except that it was a small spring island,” the navigator said, frowning at the horizon. “I don’t think it’s very notable.”

“Not very notable?!” you scoff. “That’s Conea! My home village!”

Luffy looked at you from his captain’s seat. “I didn’t know you were from the Grand Line.”

“Yeah! I lived here before I set out on my own and met you guys.” You began jumping up and down from excitement. “Oh man, I can’t wait to see everyone again!”

You were off the ship before it was even docked, bounding away into the town you called home. 

“Hey, wait up!” Luffy cried, running after you. He couldn’t help but shake this funny feeling in the pit of his stomach watching you be so excited about returning home. 

“Come on, Lu!” you shouted, disappearing into the marketplace. 

His arm shot out after you, grabbing onto your shirt and pulling himself towards you. He crashed into you, which sent you both flying into a nearby stall. 

“What on earth!?” a feminine voice chided you both. 

“I’m so sorry, Ms. Lackiny,” you apologized, standing to your feet and looking down at your boyfriend. “Luffy, what is wrong with-”

Your voice was drowned out by the stall lady’s cry. “Y/N!” she cried. “Is that really you?!” 

Mrs. Lackiny enveloped you in a hug, smothering you close to death, for several minutes. Luffy was still on the ground, watching the whole thing play out before his eyes.

“Cranix! Dolif! Yongo!” Mrs. Lackiny cried. “Come look at who’s back! Oh, the heavens have smiled upon us!”

Suddenly there’s a group of people surrounding you, and Luffy scrambled away to avoid being trampled by the fan club you suddenly acquired. He can hear your shouts of glee and everyone gushing over your arrival.  

“You need to meet my captain,” you finally say, pushing people away to breathe a bit. “Luffy!” you scream, your eyes scanning the crowd around you. “Luffy! Where are you?”

You find him next to a food stall nearby, his eyes wide from being caught mid-snack and you laugh at him. “There!” You point, and the crowd turns to look at him. 

The crowd enthusiastically meets Luffy, and when someone points out his bounty, the whole crowd eyes you warily. 

“Is it really a good idea for you to be traveling with such a dangerous pirate?” Someone mumbles to you, and Luffy can’t help but be saddened by that. 

But you laugh at their concern. “Luffy isn’t dangerous, don’t worry.” You lace your fingers with his to prove your point. 

“Okay, okay!” They say, and everyone finally disperses from you two.

People greet you every few steps, asking how you’ve been and giving you different things. You stock up on homemade treats, reminiscing on how delicious they are and sharing them with Luffy. You spend all day walking around, and finally you both head back to the ship. 

“Oh, there’s one more thing,” you say, pulling away from Luffy. 

Luffy keeps his gaze on the ground, scared to look at you. “You want to stay here, don’t you?” 

You laugh at him. “What?”

“I don’t want you to go. Please don’t.”

“Luffy,” you giggle and cup his cheeks, pulling his head up so his eyes meet your own. “The only place for me is by your side.”

His eyes light up, that familiar sense of joy filling his eyes again. “Really?”

“Yes!” You smile at him, giving him a quick kiss on his lips. “I just wanted to show you the view from the top of the lighthouse, silly.”

[sufferu]

Hey, it sounds like you are pretty confident about your process, so that's honestly great. I still kind of wanted to let you know that I at least think the jumilia thing is awesome and makes sense. Like sad for Subaru and all cause like... that's definitely going to kick him while he's down, but I think it makes complete sense with the themes you've said you're building toward.

I am curious like how... other people will react toward it when they first learn of it. (I.e. Anastasia, Felix, Wilhelm, Reinhard, etc.) Like is it going to be an oh well of course those two would get together now that our original Subaru is lost to us. (I guess I'm also assuming people knew about that whole romantic situation) Or will there be more wtf type reaction or a secret third thing.

I mean, I assume different people will react differently, but I assume you get what I'm asking. I'm assuming, however, they react, it will manage to be in the worst possible way for Subaru's nonexistent mental health. I'm living for it.

Okay first of all — thank you! I’m glad you’re enjoying this lol, and I hope to stick the landing ;)

Second — okay here’s the thing: neither Julius nor Emilia recognizes that they’re even starting to feel romantic love for each other at first, and that means they can’t do anything to keep it from Subaru on the few occasions they’re all in the same room together, because they don’t even realize that they’ve got anything to hide. But EVERYONE ELSE does, which means several people — most notably Ferris and Rem, who approach Julius and Emilia respectively — end up pulling them aside to go, “Hey, bud, what the Hell.” Cause like, it’s not like they’re forbidden from getting together, but can they not be a little more considerate here?? Crusch kinda just pushes Subaru out of the room as soon as she realizes what’s happening because she doesn’t want Subaru to realize what’s going on, lol, before immediately turning to the both of them like “Really?”

They don’t mention anything to Subaru because they (wrongly, but understandably) assume that he just doesn’t notice, because Subaru’s lack of awareness is legendary at this point and also he’s trying really hard to not look hurt by this. Ferris and Rem hold their breath while they goes to check on Subaru after the meeting, see Subaru looking perfectly unbothered, and exhale very loudly. Thank fuck.

(Subaru doesn’t want to be a baby. Julius is better than him, right? Obviously Emilia wants the better man, and that just wasn’t him. That’s his own fault.)

[howdoyousleep3]

If the mood strikes, my dream fic from you would be about Daddy Ari lovin’ on a lady who is thicccc (with at least four c’s…and some accompanying triple D’s) but also able to handle him just right, if you know what I mean. 😈

It became a thing, I couldn't resist. This felt very therapeutic for me and I loved every second of it. Shoutout to Husband for making me two espresso martinis that inadvertently pushed me to finish this. Shoutout to the espresso martinis for making me extra horny for this. Thank you bby nonnie for this blessed Ask. 😮‍💨❤️‍🔥

notable tags: reader insert, plus size reader, size difference, size kink, nipple play, sexual awakening (of sorts), daddy kink, multiple orgasms, love at first fuck sight, comeplay, dirty talk (this man 😤), a bit of a subby daddy ari word count: 1.7K song inspo

"Baby...baby, you're gonna kill me. Fuck, have mercy, sugar..."

You can't remember a time when you've felt this powerful while in bed with someone else. Your fingers dig into the meat of Ari's hairy pecs as you rock your hips selfishly, mouth dropping open when his cock, every deliciously thick inch of it, stretches the walls of your pussy out.

Rarely do you ever agree to ride someone. Rarely do you enjoy it, rarely do you feel sexy on top, rarely do you get lost in the swirls of confidence and desire and eroticism of it.

But Ari is different.

You can count on one hand the amount of times someone has made you feel wanted, has made you feel craved like he does. You aren't the type of person who can easily find someone so compatible that you end up in bed together. You have high standards brought on by insecurities, ones that most people aren't willing to meet.

It took one look at Ari Levinson as he walked into your boss's office, big and burly and openly flirty, to know that he'd set the new bar for any future lover.

"Fuck, m'gonna keep you," he hollers and growls almost to himself, leaning up onto his elbows to get a better look at the show you're putting on. "Gonna keep you here all for myself, pretty girl. Ain't ever gettin' rid'a me after this, not when you take my cock like some sort'a goddamn professional, fuck me."

One paw for a hand comes up to smack at your ass, fingers digging into the meat of your hip so hard it forces a whimper from your mouth. You love it.

You don't think about your body as you bounce on him, about his hands as they continue to grab and squeeze you all over. In fact, you find the headiness of it hot, his touches going right to your head as much as they do your swollen pussy.

He's already made you come once all over his beard and you're well on your way to a second one. You can't see an end in sight though; there's no way your hunger for him will ever dwindle.

"Ari," you whine, long and pitiful, a pout of a noise that hits him right where you want it to, just as his cock does inside of you. You whine again when your rocking turns into frantic grinding, reveling in the stretch of his cock and the rub of your clit. He groans, thick and gravelly, hands coming up to squeeze at your tits. Fuck.

“Yeah baby, yeah you better take it, take what’s yours. Come all over my cock, lemme feel it. Fuck, you’re perfect, look at you just take it like it's yours. Don’t make me beg for it, sugar. Come on…”

His mouth on your nipples is what does it, the way he sucks each sensitive nub into his mouth, suckling on it hungrily as you fuck yourself in his lap. It sparks deep pleasure within you, stirring in your tummy and spreading to your clit. He holds you over him, paws squeezing your tits together to better glide his mouth between each nipple, his muffled moans sounding like pleas and making you ache.

The scratch of his beard on your sensitive skin, the selfless way he lets you take, the ache of the walls of your pussy as your grind in tight— you shatter apart within seconds.

Your ears ring with the force of your climax, your body stunned by the intensity of it. No one has ever made you come like this. You sound like you’re sobbing as you shake apart on top of him, thighs trembling, elbows locked as you continue to let him suck loudly at your heavy tits. Your pussy trembles around his length, milking him for everything he’s worth, desperate for his own release alongside yours.

You’re about to collapse on top of him, dizzy with the aftershocks of your orgasm, when you’re suddenly moving, being turned and flipped easily onto your back.

No one has ever manhandled you either. You smile before you can process your thoughts, already knowing that you like it, no— you love it.

Even given your size, a size that has scared cowards away in the past, he still manages to make you feel dainty and teeny.

You swear you aren't going to let him go after this either.

“Look at’chu smilin’ while you get dicked down, you pretty fuckin’ baby. My cock put that smile on your face? Huh?” Ari huffs out against your lips, nipping at your chin when you giggle, laying himself out on top of you. Your giggle morphs right into a throaty moan when Ari reaches down and takes his cock in hand, slipping it back into your pussy without hesitation.

When you squeeze yourself around him the moment he’s pressed in to the hilt, greedy for him and slipping your fingers through his hair pushily, Ari growls.

“You’re gonna make me fall in love if you keep up shit like that, sweetheart.”

You squeeze yourself around him again, once and then twice, a smile spreading across your lips once more even when he wraps one of those big hands around the front of your throat. If it's supposed to be some sort of threat, he doesn't know who he's up against or who he's unleashed inside of you.

And he falters within a few pumps of his hips.

"Fuck baby," he groans, pressing his forehead against yours as his hands slip back down to grab and squeeze at your tits. They've always been sensitive, almost too much so, but when Ari touches them in the selfish way that he does, it takes your sensitivity to an entirely new level.

“It’s like you were made for me," he pants out as he fucks into you, the slick noises of your pussy hitting your ears and making you flush. "No one can just…just take this dick. Can take me. You know that?"

You don't have the energy to slow your little fucked-out noises long enough to tell him that very few people have what it takes to deal with you as well. Instead you tug at his hair and widen your legs further around his burly waist, welcoming him deeper into your body.

"And you're out here making it look easy, like it's a privilege, like it's what you're meant to do."

Your head spins as he kneads at your tits hungrily, growling as he mouths at them before pulling back to sit up. The fluidity of his movements, the way he continues to dig into that sweet spot inside of you with his cock, is almost masterful.

"Ari...Ari, you feel so good, you—"

"Oh baby, make a man's dreams come true," he interrupts you in a rush, rumbling as he squeezes at your belly, the new angle making you damn near squeal. "Call me 'Daddy', sugar. Tell Daddy he feels so good stretchin' your pretty pussy out."

His words light you the fuck up. He has continued to run his mouth about how perfect you are when he's straight out of your dirtiest, most wettest of dreams. And you don't hesitate to give him exactly what he wants.

You bring your hands up to cup your shoulders, smushing your tits together and letting them bounce with Ari's harsh thrusts, and let out the prettiest whine you can manage when you're this close to passing out from getting the best dick of your life.

"Make my...make my pretty pussy feel so good, Daddy."

"Oh my god," Ari raggedly moans, his eyelids falling closed and his hips stuttering as your words are processed. And you can't help yourself, not when you so obviously have this great of an effect on Daddy. Not when you're both so incredibly close to sharing an orgasm.

"Come in my pussy, Daddy. Want you to drop that big Daddy load in my pretty pussy."

Ari’s holler almost startles you, the guffaw of disbelief coupled with a throaty groan making you giggle into your own moan. Your moan leaves you in a rush when he shoves at the back of your knees, pressing you further into the mattress. The movement tightens your channel up to the point where you feel tears well up in your eyes.

Everything feels so hot as you watch him watch your pussy get fucked.

"M'gonna come on those fuckin' tits," is what he moans raggedly, thick chest heaving as he pants. "Let Daddy come on those pretty tits, baby. Let him save this sweet...sweet pussy for next time."

You nod your head eagerly and find yourself pleading with him as soon as you hear his request.

"You touch yourself and make yourself come with me, you hear me?"

"Mhmm yes, Daddy."

"Fuck me..."

The moment Ari's jaw drops open, his fist flying over his cock as he looks down at you, you feel the burn of an orgasm in your core. How could you do anything but come when he's looking at you like this? Your fingers swirl over your clit just as requested, the poor, abused numb, swollen and achy. It's the perfect sensation to go along with your view.

This has to be the hottest thing you've ever witnessed.

"Fuck, ask me one more time, baby. Please, please tell Daddy—"

"Daddy, please! Come on these titties, Daddy. They're yours, they're all yours. Make them messy, make 'em—"

"Jesus Christ, m'gonna come. Daddy's comin', baby..."

You're going to come. You're going to come at the same time as Ari is, legs spread wide in the air, rubbing at your clit.

It seems this is a night of firsts.

The first splash of hot come across your chest does you in this time around. Instead of your ears ringing, your ears are filled with the noises of Ari coming, his grunts and gasps, his bitten off curses and your name.

You eagerly press your chest out in a display of complete submission as you come, your climax feeling less like waves and more like shocks of pleasure, some almost painful. You manage to moan out Ari's name, his newfound title as well, and when he lets go of his twitching cock, his fingers quickly find his mess on your tits.

The last shocks of your orgasm leave your system the moment his come-covered fingers slip between your willing lips.

You suck them down greedily.

Ari's moan sounds like thunder all around you.

"Yeah, there's no way in hell you're gettin’ rid'a me, pretty girl..."

[fatuismooches]

THE ALTERNATE UNIVERSE POST REMINDED ME OF THOSE CLICHES WHERE THEY MEET AN ALTERNATE VERSION OF THEMSELVES OH MY GOD???? like zandik sees a version of himself where he never met you and he will admit that he honestly has never seen himself so sad before.... like everything he has now? nothing can compare to a zandik who has never felt love before and that FUCKSHGVUHFBJAKM<>SAGDUIJSAK .. I SWEAR I SAW THIS SOMEWHERE I JUST CAN'T REMEMBER WHERE...

and zandik who has never experienced love thinks he's so foolish for allowing such a massive setback to his goals, and he doesn't understand you and your relationship with your zandik. perhaps he's jealous? maybe he wants to study you (in a not so intimate way and rather how he would treat regular subjects)? AND IT JUST MAKES ME SOOOOOO SAD LIKE. YOU'D OBVIOUSLY WANT TO HOLD HIM AND KISS HIM TOO, make him feel loved too BUT you have your own zandik, AND he has never opened his heart to anyone for literally millenias and uGHHGHHH

methinks it makes zandik appreciate your relationship on a whole 'nother level

OH. MY. GOD. THIS IS SOOOO GOOD AND GENIUS UGHHHH I LOVE IT SM! Screams... the idea of Dottore admitting to himself that he looks "sad" is something that he thought was impossible but!! He can't deny that his alternate self looks goddamn miserable!! His counter-self would look "normal" to anyone else, but perhaps because he's connected to him in an odd way, he can just sense his other self's sadness. Eyebags and all, he really looks like he reached the edge of insanity. Which, Dottore has as well, but there's just something about his alternate self that shows it a lot more. And he thinks, could you really have had that much of an impact on him, for his alternate self to be like this? Surely there were other factors that made his alternate self come out this way, perhaps even arguably worse than him? And he's right, there is, being from an alternate universe and all but... still, there was no alternate for you his alternate self. No one to lessen his burden, to help him, to care for him, to love him... he was left to descend into madness all by himself.

Ugh his alternate self would probably be disgusted with him. There are so many things to be done, and instead of focusing on the important stuff he's fooling around with... love? With... you? A person he supposedly... loves? It's disgusting really, how low he's fallen. He should know better than to believe in such things, after the neglect he went through. And you. His other self doesn't like you for being such a distraction. What could possibly be so interesting about you? He doesn't see anything notable about you at all, especially if you're sickly, and yet the twisted part of him wants to know. I mean, you're scared of his alternate self of course, but you can't help but pity him, You want to show him what it means to be loved, how even someone like him can be loved, and how love can actually help him rather than hurt him. You want him to be showered in affection... but you can't. That's not your job... and it would be far too hard for you to do it in such as short him. So you only leave Dottore's counter self with a few words - that you didn't know what happened to your alternate self, whether they were alive or dead... but you hoped that he could meet them one day, and maybe then he would understand.

You're more sad about it than Dottore of course, meanwhile he's more contemplative about it? He thinks about everything his other self said and he can't help but think he's so... wrong. He counters every single point his alternative self made. You've actually helped him with so many breakthroughs in his own research, learn new things he couldn't have understood on his own. You help him regain his energy when he's tired, you help him relax and rest when he constantly pushes past his limits. You... love him, and that's helped him a lot more than he initially realized. And that just makes him more resolved to the fact he can't lose you.