#i don't love the power creep but we don't need to talk about that. that's been hashed and rehashed

[front-facing-pokemon]

[joycrispy]

One thing I love about Crowley --never stated, but consistently shown-- is that he is, at heart, an engineer.

I have a few different things to say about that. Let's unpack them.

As the Unnamed Angel, we see his designs for the Pillars of Creation are millions of pages long, comprised of cramped text, footnotes, diagrams, schematics, etc. It's very...Renaissance polymath, in the way it implies a particular intersection of artist and inventor.

Also: in the naked romanticism with which he views his stars.

We already knew he made stars, but in s2 we learn that he did NOT sculpt each of them by hand. He designed a nebula ("a star factory," he says) that will form several thousand young stars and proto-planets, and all --aside from getting the 'factory' running-- without him lifting a finger. We also learn that these young stars and proto-planets stand in contrast to those made by other angels, which are going to come 'pre-aged.'

...I'm reminded of Hastur and Ligur's approach to temptations. Damning one human soul at a time, devoting singular attention to it over the course of years or decades, and how that stands in contrast to Crowley's reliance on, quote, 'knock-on effects.'

Ligur: It's not exactly...craftsmanship. Crowley: Head office don't seem to mind. They love me down there.

Hm.

I'm also reminded of the M25.

The M25 may not be as grand as a nebula (sentences you only say in GOmens fandom...), but LIKE his nebula it's an intricate, self-sustaining engine that does Crowley's work for him, many times over. Again.

That's some pretty neat characterization --and so is the indication towards Crowley's disinterest in victimizing anyone tempting individual people. It takes a considerable amount of planning and effort (and creeping about in wellies), but in accordance with his design the M25 generates a constant stream of low-grade evil on a gigantic scale.

Cumulatively gigantic, that is. Individually? Negligible.

But no other demon understands human nature well enough to parse that one million ticked-off motorists are not, in any meaningful way, actually equivalent to one dictator, or one mass-murderer, or even one little influential regressive. That's the trick of it. Crowley gets Hell's approval (which he NEEDS to survive, and to maintain the degree of freedom he's eked out for himself), and at the same time ensures that any actual ~Evil Influence~ is spread nice and thin.

It's some clever machinery. And he knows it, too:

The Unnamed Angel and Crowley are both proud of their ideas.

(musings on professional pride, Leonardo da Vinci, the crank handle, and 'the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale' under the cut)

In the 1970's Crowley gives a presentation on the M25, projector and all, to a room full of increasingly impatient demons. Maybe the presentation was work-ordered; the 'can I hear a WAHOO?' definitely wasn't.

Before the Beginning, the Unnamed Angel can barely contain his excitement about his nebula. Aziraphale manages a baffled-but-polite, "....That's nice... :)"

11 years ago, Hastur and Ligur want to 'tell the deeds of the day,' and Crowley smiles to himself because (according to the script-book) he knows he has 'the best one.'

(Naturally, his 'deed' has nothing to do with tempting anybody, and everything to do with setting up a human-powered Rube-Goldberg machine of petty annoyance. Oodles of 'Evil' generated; very little harm done.)

Hastur and Ligur don't get it, of course. That's also consistent.

Nobody ever knows what the hell he's talking about.

It didn't make it on-screen, but, in both the novel AND the script-book, Crowley was friends with Leonardo da Vinci. The quintessential Renaissance polymath. That's where he got his drawing of the Mona Lisa --they're getting very drunk together, and Crowley picks up the 'most beautiful' of the preliminary sketches. He wants to buy it. Leonardo agrees almost off-the-cuff, very casual, because they're friends, and because he has bigger fish to fry than haggling over a doodle:

He goes, "Now, explain this helicopter thingie again, will you?" Because he's an engineer, too.

(It is 1519 at the latest, in this scene. Why the FUCK would Crowley know about helicopters, and be able to explain them, comprehensively, to Leonardo da Vinci?

...Well. I choose to believe he got bored one day and worked it out. Look, if you know how to build a nebula, you can probably handle aerodynamics. And anyway, I think it's telling that this is his idea of shooting the shit. 'A drunken mind speaks a sober heart,' and all. He probably babbled about Aziraphale long enough to make poor Leo sick)

Apart from Aziraphale, Leonardo da Vinci is the only person Crowley has any keepsakes or mementos of.

Think about that, though. Aziraphale's bookshop is bursting with letters, paintings, busts, and personalized signatures memorializing all the humans he's known and befriended over 6000 years (indeed: Aziraphale has living human friends up and down Whickber Street. He's part of a community).

Crowley doesn't have any of that. It's just the stone albatross from the Church (for pining), the infamous gay sex statue (for spicy pining), the houseplants (for roleplaying his deepest trauma over and over, as one does), and this one piece of artwork, inscribed, "To my friend Anthony from your friend Leo da V."

To me, at least, that suggests a level of attachment that seems to be rare for Crowley.

...Maybe he liked having someone to talk shop with? Someone who was interested? Someone engaged enough to ask questions when they didn't immediately understand?

...Anyway.

There's also the matter of the crank handle.

This thing:

This is one of the subtler changes from the book. In the book, Crowley knows Satan is coming and, desperate, arms himself with a tire iron. It's the best he can do. He's not Aziraphale; he wasn't made to wield a flaming sword.

The show, IMO, improves on this considerably. Now he, like Aziraphale, gets to face annihilation with what he was made for in his hand. And it's not a weapon, not even an improvised one like the tire iron.

He made stars with it.

[both gifs by @fuckyeahgoodomens]

If you Google 'crank handle,' you'll get variations on this:

Crank handles have been around for centuries. Consisting of a mechanical arm that's connected to a perpendicular rotating shaft, they are designed to convert circular motion into rotary or reciprocating motion.

Which is to say they're one of the 'simple machines,' like a lever or a pulley; the bread and butter of engineering. You'll also get a list of uses for a crank handle, archaic and modern. Among them: cranking up the engine of an old-fashioned car... say, a 1933 Bentley. That's what Crowley has been using his for, lately. But he's had it since he was an angel and he's still, it seems, very capable of it's angelic applications.

Stopping time. For instance.

(This is conjecture on my part, but, I like to imagine that Crowley has the ability to stop time for the same reason I can --and should-- unplug my computer before I perform maintenance on it. Time and Space are a matched set, after all, and in his designs in particular, one feeds into the other.)

I know everyone has already said this, but: I REALLY LIKE that when he needs to channel the heights of his power, he does so not with a weapon but with a tool. Practically with a little handheld metaphor for ingenuity. One from long-lost days when he made beautiful things.

(And he loved it. Still loves it --he incorporated that metaphor into the Bentley, didn't he?)

Let Aziraphale rock up to the apocalypse with a weapon: he has his own compelling thematic reasons to do exactly that. Crowley's story is different, and fighting isn't the only way to express defiance. And if you've been condemned as a demon and assumed to be destructive by your very nature, what better way than this?

He made stars. They didn't manage to take that from him.

Neither Crowley nor Aziraphale are fighters, really --they have no intention of fighting in any war. They'll annoy everyone until there's no war to fight in, for a start. But between the two, if one must be, then that one is Aziraphale. Principality of the Earth, Guardian of the Eastern Gate, Wielder of the Flaming Sword... all that stuff. Even if he'd prefer not to, it's very clear that Aziraphale can rise to the occasion, if he must.

Crowley was never that kind of angel. He wasn't a Principality. He doesn't have a sword.

...And yet.

It's Crowley who protects. He's the one who paces, who stands guard, who circles Aziraphale and glares out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near.

In light of everything else I've said here, I think that's interesting.

Obviously part of it is that Aziraphale enjoys it and, you know, good for him. He's living his best life, no doubt no doubt no doubt. But what about Crowley? What's driving that behavior, really?

Have you heard the phrase, 'loved to the point of invention'? Well, what if 'the point of invention' was where you started? What if where you end up involves glaring out at the world, just daring anyone else to come near? What is that, in relation to the bright-eyed thing you used to be?

What do we name the point to which Crowley loves Aziraphale?

...Thinking about how an excitable angel with three million pages of star design he wants to tell you all about...becomes a guard dog. Is all.

[baldval]

heyy! You dont have to do this if it makes you uncomfortable it is a little darker…

can i request overlords finding out that reader selfharms? Like they knew she was unstable but they didnt think that much

thank you!!!

BEING COMFORTED BY HAZBIN!₊˚⊹♡

characters: alastor, vox, velvette, valentino, lucifer, adam

warnings: sad reader, slightly ooc adam (that man is so hard to write omg)

a/n: ik i said i'm comfortable w darker asks, i just don't really feel ok w writing about such heavy/negative topics (especially sh), but don't worry anon, should've added that mb. anyways, i give you hazbin characters comforting reader in return 🫶🫶

ALASTOR:

ᯓ he’s not exactly a ‘sit down and talk about feelings’ type of person

ᯓ but he can tell when something’s wrong

ᯓ and he wants nothing more but to make you feel like you’re on top of the world

ᯓ he sees your pouty face when you get home

ᯓ “hey, darling, come look,” he says

ᯓ he’d been at work when you’d left

ᯓ so he’s had some time to figure out what to do for you without making it seem like he’s prying

ᯓ he’ll ask you about what’s bothering you once you’ve relaxed

ᯓ he plops down on the couch, dragging you with him

ᯓ your favorite movie is paused on the tv, waiting to be played

ᯓ “i found an extended version. with bloopers and deleted scenes and everything,” he murmurs

ᯓ the entire movie, his hand is rubbing up and down your back

ᯓ his fingers sometimes creep up your neck, playing gently with your hair

ᯓ the entire thing is extremely soothing

ᯓ you know he knows something’s wrong

ᯓ and you also know he’s going to do everything in his power to fix it

ᯓ and you’re so grateful he just loves you

VOX:

ᯓ he doesn’t need you to say anything, ever

ᯓ he just knows what you need

ᯓ when he comes home and finds you in bed early, he knows you’ve had a difficult day

ᯓ he doesn’t know what happened, but he won’t ask until you’re feeling better

ᯓ he changes out of his work clothes and just gets into bed with you

ᯓ when you don’t say anything either, he pulls you into a cuddle, one hand pressing your head to his chest and the other cupping your hip

ᯓ “hi, vox.”

ᯓ he peppers your face in kisses

ᯓ “feeling off?” he asks

ᯓ you nod

ᯓ his fingers go to stroke your jaw

ᯓ “you can talk to me, you know. i want to make it better,” he tells you

ᯓ so you tell him everything

ᯓ whatever the issue was, the next day, he’s found some way to solve it

ᯓ just for you

ᯓ anything for you

VELVETTE:

ᯓ the minute you come home from work, exhaustion and misery rolling off of you in waves, she demands to know what’s wrong

ᯓ “is someone bothering you? is it your boss again? because i can get him fired.”

ᯓ you tell her everything

ᯓ she promises to help you with whatever it is that’s causing you trouble

ᯓ she’d tip the earth off it’s axis if you asked

ᯓ “come here, i want a kiss,” she tells you

ᯓ you very happily oblige

ᯓ she spends the entire night just spoiling (and worshiping) you

ᯓ the sheets of your bed are tangled between both your legs

ᯓ you’ve never felt more loved

ᯓ she murmurs about how your aniversary is coming up

ᯓ and tells you to get your nails done and dress pretty

ᯓ you don’t really know how you got here

ᯓ but you’re not upset

ᯓ you smile up at the ceiling, delightedly dazed

ᯓ you don’t even remember why you were upset

VALENTINO:

ᯓ he feels what you feel

ᯓ and at this point he can never leave you alone

ᯓ he NEEDS to be with you 24/7

ᯓ so naturally it’s like he’s dying when you come home looking upset

ᯓ “hey, no kiss hello?” he whines

ᯓ that manages to get you to laugh

ᯓ he smiles at your smiling

ᯓ you go over to kiss him and he catches your wrist before you walk off

ᯓ “no, c’mere,” he insists

ᯓ he tugs you into his lap and winds his arms around your waist

ᯓ he sets his chin on your shoulder

ᯓ “why’re you upset?”

ᯓ “oh, it’s nothing, val.”

ᯓ “bullshit.”

ᯓ you spill

ᯓ he rubs circles into your hip bone

ᯓ “i’d be upset, too,” he admits

ᯓ he kisses all up your neck

ᯓ “but we don’t have to think about that at all now. can we just spend some time together? i promise, though, if you’re still having problems i’ll gladly fuck up as many lives as you need.”

ᯓ you laugh, making him laugh

ᯓ you spend the rest of the night just sitting there talking to him

LUCIFER:

ᯓ the two of you are watching your current show, as you do every night, and he notices you’re zoning out

ᯓ he pauses it and looks down at you

ᯓ he dots a couple kisses over your brow

ᯓ “everything okay?”

ᯓ “rough day…”

ᯓ “why didn’t you tell me?”

ᯓ his expression is one of concern now, yet still absolutely laden with affection

ᯓ “i’m sorry, i’m not trying to keeping things from you or anything. i just don’t want to bother you.”

ᯓ “i want you to bother me. say everything that comes into your brain, i want to hear it.”

ᯓ he pulls you closer, palm smoothing over the back of your neck as he sets your head against his chest

ᯓ you tell him about your day, and how you were getting so frustrated

ᯓ frustrated everything was going wrong today, frustrated that the entire week was going wrong

ᯓ he listens intently, stroking your hair the entire time

ᯓ he gives soft “mhms” and “of courses” at your words

ᯓ he peppers warm kisses all over your face

ᯓ he does his best to give you a solution

ᯓ even if what he suggested doesn’t work, he’s sending you flowers to your house for the next week

ADAM:

ᯓ he’s a little confused, but he’s got the spirit

ᯓ he’s a little nervous to ask what’s wrong

ᯓ he’s afraid he won’t know what to do to make you feel better

ᯓ “hey, uh, everything okay?”

ᯓ you shrug

ᯓ “wanna talk about it?”

ᯓ you tell him everything

ᯓ he nods the entire time, his eyes never leaving your face

ᯓ he’s trying to memorize everything you’re saying

ᯓ he doesn’t really have any great solutions

ᯓ and he kind of hates himself for it

ᯓ he wants to help you, even if he doesn't make it obvious

ᯓ “hey, how about we go out tonight? take your mind off things.”

ᯓ you spend the night at dinner then wandering through a night market

ᯓ you both talk nonstop

ᯓ he gets you a bunch of trinkets

ᯓ just things that remind him of you

ᯓ and a bracelet, too

ᯓ he spends a bit of time fiddling with the clasp, eventually hooking it together and letting it sit on your wrist

ᯓ you don’t take the bracelet off

ᯓ ever

ᯓ at home, he’s worried you’re still upset

ᯓ but you’re not

ᯓ you fall asleep curled up against him, your worries now nonexistent

[fuckmycrane]

Moon — Thomas Shelby.

— CW: 18+!, smut. breeding kink, (slight) housewife kink, mentions of kidnaping. Age gap. | word count: 1.7k. (not proofread!)

— a/n: I have no clue from where this came from. I'm not in the best mindset and this happened. This is also my first time writing for Tommy so don't hate me lol. This isn't canon compliant ig because I don't want it to be. I just want him so bad it's not even funny.

Vulnerability. 

It was a word he never thought he’d truly understand the meaning of. 

It was always meant to be a secret. Why? Because good things don’t last long— not for him. Never for him. 

And every time he is away from you, it is a constant heartache that not even the strongest alcohol or an insane amount of tobacco could ease. He wishes he could steal the moon from the dark skies of Birmingham and hand it to you, he knows how much you love the moon. Night after night, he raises his head to stare at it for hours, wondering where are you, if you are thinking about him as much as he is thinking of you.

Wondering if you love him as much as he loves you.

Love. Such a funny word. A meaning both so full and so empty.

He wishes he could steal you. 

He knows how much he loves you.

It is always better to be safe than sorry— that’s why he secluded you, and you understood. Perhaps it was the naivety granted by your young age, or maybe it was your blind love for a man who was doomed since the day he was born. Whatever it was, it kept both of your hearts attached, beating as one; watching the same moon.

He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes; he is a smart man, he knows where you are and with whom, he knows what dress you wore and who you talked to. And he does it for love. Or even obsession. A strange urge that creeps into him every night when he thinks of you after a long day of work— an urge to be loved. He counts the days, the hours, and sometimes even the minutes until he is able to see you again. To hide under that perfect, warm blanket that is your arms, your kisses, your body. 

In front of your front door, he knocks even though he knows the door is open. He has guards on every corner, eyes on every window. He already lost too many precious things in his life. He can’t afford to lose you. He built you a house, a paradise for you to enjoy, cherish and take care of. He gave you everything you could ask for, even more. Growing up, you never experienced the same deficiencies and struggles he did, you never had to lift a single finger and that’s alright for him. Because on those days when he feels powerless and exhausted, he knows he can always ride back home, and regain that power by standing next to you. 

Home. Home. Home.

“Tommy!” The squeak of excitement makes the long trip worth it. Everything is worth it if it comes to you.

He hugs you, keeping you tight against his chest wishing he could stay that way forever, basking in your delicate soul, your selfless heart. Thomas calls your name in an affectionate way that no one could evoke in such a genuine way. He kisses you with such passion that makes your blood boil and your heart flutter.

“How are you feeling?” He asks, ignoring how his mind scolds him for the hint of vulnerability that laces his voice. 

Placing your hands over your stomach, his body tenses at the small bump underneath your expensive, tailored dress. “We feel good, we missed you— I missed you” You reply with adoration. He is finally here.

“I’m here,” He says as if you needed confirmation that he is in fact in front of you. 

“How is everyone?” 

“Good” He places a large hand over your stomach, rubbing it with his palm. “Ada keeps asking me when I will bring you back to Small Heath”

“And when will that be?” Your question gives him a pang of guilt. He wishes he could have an answer, his face says it all. “It’s alright, love. I understand things are… difficult”

“Enough about that” He breathes, cupping your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He wants the distraction, he wants the warmth, he wants you. “I’m here to see my wife, not to talk about work”

With a giggle, you kiss him. “Fine. Whatever you want”

And he loves that. He loves how willing to please you are. He loves how you let him guide you upstairs, undress you, and adore you. Thomas’ hands caress the small bump in your stomach as he carefully lifts his hips to thrust deeper, enjoying every small moan and gasp. Normally he isn’t this gentle, but he will never harm you or your baby. With his occasional grunts and pants, he grabs your thighs, increasing his pace. Watching you bounce on top of him is a heavenly sight and is in these moments when he is sure you are an angel sent from heaven from him. He might not believe in God but whatever exists in this cruel world granted him with a Goddess.

“I m–missed you” You moan digging your nails into the pale skin of his shoulders. “I missed you s–so much”

That damn wave of vulnerability washes over him, the bed creaks with your combined weight, creating a delicious, sinful melody that he evokes on those nights when he is too desperate for your body and has to find relief in his own hands. 

His large hands cup your breasts, paying attention to your swollen, sensitive nipples. Thomas pinches them gently watching you tremble. He can already imagine them full and heavy, ready to take care of the baby that you are expecting— his baby. A louder groan falls down his lips at the thought. Such a wonderful mother you will be. Such a perfect, precious housewife. 

Such an angel sent from heaven.

“I love how you look” He confesses in a husky fashion, bouncing your tits in his calloused palms. “I can’t wait to see you— to see you all round and heavy with my baby”

His words send a shiver down your spine, clenching around him and making Thomas hiss from the raw pleasure of your tight pussy. “Please— don’t stop”

“I wasn’t plannin’ on, doll”

Thomas dares to increase the pace, using one hand to grope your ass to keep balance. Your moans also increase in volume, igniting the primal desire to claim you inside of him. “You are so fucking tight— I will fucking pump another baby into you as soon as you have this one”

You nod fervently, closing your eyes and scratching his chest. “Yes! I’ll have as many as you want Tommy— anything you want! Anything”

The loyalty he so loves. 

His lust wins over his composure for a moment, landing a sharp slap over your asscheek that makes you whine and clench again causing him to grit his teeth. He is aware of how much you adore it when he is rough with you, he thrives on the submission you gave him since day one. Unable to help himself, your husband slaps your ass repeatedly, relishing the cries of pleasure that call him like a siren to a poor, lost sailor. 

“Say you are mine” He grunts after another hard slap. He isn’t going to last any longer. Not with such a breathtaking view. 

“I belong to you!” You comply instantly. “I am y–yours! I’ve always been” He knows you are telling the truth. That’s why he had to take you away from your home, to manipulate you in order to give up your last name, to cast you under his spell— that’s why he had to have you since he first landed eyes on you. 

But at the end of the day, he was the one wrapped around your finger.

He is the one wrapped around the velvety, soft walls of your cunt, squeezing him for dear life and silently begging him to breed you, use you, claim you…

Love you.

With a strained cry, you come around him. He could watch you unravel on top of him for hours— in fact, he has.  Your movements were slow, deliberate, and intense. He could feel his breath hitch as you moved, and his heart raced as you arrived at your climax. His gaze was unwavering as he watched you ride out the waves of your pleasure. Thomas followed you seconds after, moaning your name under his breath; he fills you up just the way you both adore, it’s evident that when the hours pass, time is the only thing left to waste. Panting above him, he carefully settles you next to him, spooning you and keeping his softening cock inside of you. This is how he wants to end every day, to wake up every morning. 

Kissing your sweaty neck, he breathes you in, memorizing your scent once again. He knows his time with you is limited before someone notices his absence and begins to track him. Thomas needs to be two steps ahead of anyone. Your soft giggles make him smile, a genuine smile that feels so foreign to him. Under the darkness of your bedroom, his hands caress your hot skin, providing you with the heat and care he knows you crave. 

“I love you” You whisper, closing your eyes and falling asleep rather quickly. He listens to your heavy breathing, peaceful and unbothered; and that’s how he wishes it could stay forever. Away from worries, stress, fear. 

“I love you, more than you can imagine” He musters, hiding his face on the crook of your neck.

It’s true. Because love is such a funny word that gives him such a funny feeling. 

A warm, fuzzy feeling.

He opens his eyes, raising his head to look at the windows. The curtains are wide open, the weak glow of the full moon casting a divine glow over your naked body. His lips land on your shoulder, allowing the sensation to wash over him. It's a moment of peace and serenity, a moment in time that will never be forgotten. A moment he doesn’t want to end. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow he will bring you back where you belong. It doesn’t matter the consequences, it doesn’t matter if the whole world finds out Thomas Shelby was the one who kidnaped Jack Nelson’s younger sister. As long as he has you, he is alive.

And he swears it to the moon.

[fafnir19]

A prized possession

Leroy, a cocksure college jock with a swagger in his step and a twinkle in his eye, felt the power of the sports car beneath him like an extension of his own virility. He grinned smugly as he revved the engine of his father’s  Porsche, the sleek metallic body gleaming under the sunlight. Yet, his reign was soon to face a tumultuous turn.

One fateful evening, as Leroy lounged in the living room watching reruns of sports games, his father’s voice boomed through the room like thunder, “Son, we need to talk.” Leroy’s heart skipped a beat, the ominous tone causing a chill to run down his spine. “What’s up, Dad?” Leroy feigned nonchalance, trying to keep his voice steady. His father's face was grave as he uttered the words that shattered Leroy’s world, “I lost the Porsche in a gamble.” Leroy’s eyes widened in disbelief, his expression mirroring a deer caught in headlights. “You did WHAT?” he exclaimed, the blood draining from his face. “That’s illegal! We can't just give away the Porsche!” His father’s jaw was set with unwavering determination, “It's a matter of honor, Leroy. A gentleman keeps his word, even when the stakes are high.”

Leroy's mind raced with a million thoughts. How could he live without his beloved Porsche? It was his pride and joy, his ticket to popularity and admiration. He had to think fast, come up with a plan to save his precious car from falling into the hands of a stranger. An idea sparked in Leroy's mind, as he concocted a plan. “Let me bring the Porsche to the winner. I’ll have one last ride, say my goodbyes,” he proposed, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

His father looked at him with a mix of pride and curiosity. "Very well, Leroy. If that's what you wish, then go ahead. But remember, honor is at stake here," his father warned, his tone firm.

Little did his father know, Leroy had a trick up his sleeve, a cunning scheme to outwit the winner and reclaim what was rightfully his. The Porsche would not be lost to some stranger; it belonged with Leroy, and he would stop at nothing to ensure it stayed that way.

As Leroy pulled up to the grand mansion where the winner was waiting, he couldn't shake the unease settling in his stomach. The imposing gates swung open, revealing Miles, a handsome man with a confident smirk on his face.

Leroy stepped out of the Porsche, his eyes narrowing as he faced the new owner of his beloved car. "Congratulations on winning the Porsche, Miles," Leroy said, his voice laced with a hint of defiance. Miles chuckled, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Ah, the previous owner himself. Come, let me drive you back home." Leroy hesitated for a moment before accepting, climbing into the passenger seat of the Porsche beside Miles. The engine roared to life, and they sped off down the winding road, the wind whipping through Leroy's hair.

Leroy gritted his teeth, steeling himself for the confrontation ahead. "So, Miles, about the Porsche... I believe there's been a misunderstanding. Gambling is illegal, and I can't let you keep it."

"So, Leroy," Miles began, his voice smooth as silk, "you mentioned gambling is illegal. Is that your only concern?" Leroy's jaw tightened. "It is against the law, and I won't stand by—" Miles raised a hand, cutting him off and began, his voice smooth like velvet. "You really do love this car, don't you?" Leroy's grip on the seat tightened. "The Porsche and I belong together. It's more than just a car to me." Miles arched an eyebrow, his smile widening. "Well then, let me show you just how much you belong to this car."

Leroy couldn't help but notice the strange sensation creeping over him. His trackpants seemed to morph into the same leather material as the car seats, fitting snugly against his toned legs. "Um, what's happening?" Leroy mumbled, eyeing his transformed attire warily. Miles chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Just relax, Leroy. Enjoy the ride." With a sudden burst of speed, Miles hit the gas pedal, pressing Leroy back into the seat. The sensation was exhilarating, almost electrifying. Leroy's t-shirt and bomber jacket underwent a magical makeover, turning into a stylish leather jacket that revealed his sculpted six-pack underneath.

Wideeyed, Leroy stammered, "This... this isn't normal, right?" Miles flashed a knowing grin, his hand effortlessly shifting the aluminum gear lever. As Miles's fingers grazed the gearshift, Leroy felt a jolt of pleasure shoot through him, making his heart race in excitement. "Oh, what is...?" Leroy's words trailed off as Miles continued to stroke the gear lever lightly, sending shivers down Leroy's spine. A stirring in his loins caught Leroy off guard. His body responding to Miles's touch of the gearshift in ways he couldn't explain and suddenly he sported an boner. Miles' voice cut through Leroy's haze of desire. "Do you enjoy this ride, Leroy?" Leroy could only moan in response, his body aching for more of the exhilarating sensations coursing through him. The Porsche surged forward, the speedometer climbing higher and higher. Just when he thought he couldn't take the pleasure any more, something unexpected happened. Suddenly, the electronic limiter kicked in, halting the acceleration abruptly. And then, in a sudden twist of fate, Leroy felt a strange sensation around his nether regions. Looking down in his pants, he saw an aluminum chastity cage materialize around his manhood, fitting seamlessly with the Porsche's aesthetic and locking him in a state of bewildered arousal.

"Miles, what have you done to me?" Leroy cried out, his voice a mix of shock and desire. Miles just smirked, his eyes dancing with mischief. "Do you feel it, Leroy? The connection between you and the Porsche? Embrace it, let go of your inhibitions." Leroy's heart pounded in his chest as he pleaded with Miles. "Please, stop this! Let me go!" he cried out, his voice laced with fear and desperation. Miles, with a devious smile playing on his lips, pulled over to the side of the deserted road. With shaking hands, Leroy reached for the door handle, ready to bolt from the car and escape the enigmatic gaze of Miles. Was this his chance to break free from whatever strange spell had been cast upon him? Leroy tensed, preparing to make a run for it. However, his eyes widened in shock as Miles got out of the Porsche and opened the door on Leroy's side.

Before he could take a single step, Miles's firm grip pushed him back into the leather seat. With a quick movement, Miles lowered Leroy's pants, revealing the smooth expanse of his skin.

Leroy's breath hitched in his throat, his body reacting to the sudden exposure. And then, as if in a surreal dream, Miles unveiled his stiff uncut cock, pressing it against Leroy's unprepared entrance.

The initial pain of penetration tore through Leroy, eliciting a scream that echoed through the quiet surroundings. But as the initial shock faded, a different sensation began to bloom within him, one of heat and forbidden pleasure. Miles's movements were deliberate and precise, each thrust igniting a different kind of fire within Leroy's core. The leather seats beneath him seemed to mold to his every curve, cradling him in a strange comfort he couldn't deny. With each push and pull, Leroy's world narrowed down to the point of contact, where pleasure mingled with pain in a dance as old as time itself. His moans filled the air, a symphony of conflicting emotions that only seemed to spur Miles on further. Leroy found himself lost in a whirlwind of sensations, his body no longer his own but a vessel for something primal and raw. The aluminum shifter gleamed in the dim light, a silent witness to the passion unfolding within the confines of the luxurious car and Miles' dark eyes bore into his, holding him in their hypnotic gaze as he whispered, "You're like my Porsche: sporty, good-looking and only meant for the pleasure of rich men! You’re my Porsche-boy now!"

Leroy's mind reeled with confusion and desire as he found himself trapped in a situation he never could have anticipated. Miles's dark eyes bore into him, a predatory glint dancing within them as he took control of the situation. "What have you done to me?" Leroy managed to stammer out, his voice filled with a mixture of fear and arousal. Miles's lips curved into a knowing smile, his fingers trailing lightly over the aluminum gearshift. "Relax, Leroy. You're exactly where you belong now," he purred, his voice like velvet, laced with a hint of danger. Leroy's heart pounded in his chest as he struggled against the strange sensations coursing through him. The metallic cage around his manhood felt constricting yet oddly exhilarating, reminding him of his newfound connection to the Porsche. Miles leaned in closer, his breath warm against Leroy's skin. "You're not Leroy anymore. You're Porsche-boy, my exclusive toy," he murmured, his words sending a shiver down Leroy's spine.

Leroy's mind reeled with conflicting emotions. Was this his fate now, to be nothing more than an expensive toy in the hands of a wealthy man? His muscles tensed beneath the snug leather jacket that now adorned his chiseled body, a silent reminder that  Miles' wants him to look gay. With a resigned nod, Leroy accepted his new identity as Porsche-boy, letting go of the name Leroy as if it were a burden too heavy to bear. The leather seats cradled him, molding to his form as though they were a part of him, just like the aluminum chastity cage that held his desire in check. Taking a deep breath, Porsche-boy slid behind the wheel, his hands trembling slightly as he turned to Miles and asked, "Where should I drive you, my owner?"

Miles smiled, a predatory glint in his eyes as he leaned back in the passenger seat, his gaze fixed on Porsche-boy with possessive intent.

"Take me to the heart of the city, Porsche-boy. Show me what this sleek machine of yours can do." With a nod, Leroy revved the engine, the powerful roar of the Porsche filling the air around them. He felt a surge of adrenaline as he tore down the open road, the wind whipping through his hair, the leather jacket tight against his skin. As they sped through the city streets, Leroy revelled in the feeling of freedom and power that came with being Miles' Porsche-boy.

With each passing moment, he embraced his new role, the lines between pleasure and pain blurring in a heady mix of desire and submission. And as the city lights blurred past them, Leroy knew that his journey was far from over. He was no longer Leroy, the college jock with an alpha mentality. He was Porsche-boy, a prized possession in the eyes of his wealthy owner, destined for a world of luxury, pleasure, and uncharted desires. And in that moment, as he surrendered to the intoxicating rush of the unknown, Leroy found a sense of fulfillment he had never known before. As a result, he forgot his former name and Leroy was no more. In his place stood Porsche-boy, a symbol of luxury and desire, a testament to the intoxicating allure of submission and control.

Embracing his fate as Miles' Porsche-boy, he knew that this new chapter in his life would be anything but ordinary.

[ash5monster01]

Learning to Love Part 8

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x FemReader!PlusSize

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral, p in v, language, angst, fluff, mentions of bullying, body image issues, fat shaming, mdni!!

Summary: It's not uncommon for you to be shamed for your size, it is however uncommon to be told that no one would ever date you because of it. Rafe on the other hand is used to being called a jerk, that is until he is accused of seeing people for only what's on the surface. It's purely coicidental you two meet right after these accusations are thrown your way. So even though you two don't know each other, and probably never would've looked the others way before this, now you're both going to prove a point. It's simple really, prove others wrong and don't fall in love. Easier said than done.

word count: 4.6k

Part 7 ←→ Part 9

Masterlist

Rafe has no clue why he agreed to date other people and end this agreement with you, especially when you open your front door to reveal you in the sexiest black dress he’s ever seen. His mouth waters at the deep neckline of the dress, revealing cleavage to him he hadn’t seen in a while. The fabric hangs off your shoulders and goes all the way down to just below your knees. The black wedges you wear pair perfectly and your hair is styled half up and half down, with a black bow holding it together. Definitely Mila’s touch. It takes a moment for words to reach his brain and quickly is saved by the flash of a camera in the doorway that has both of you breaking eye contact and looking to the girl.

“What? I’m capturing memories!” Mila defends which has you giggling and Rafe shaking his head.

“I opened the door, you could have at least made us pose” you tell her and she shakes her head as she clicks a few buttons on the camera.

“Posing doesn’t capture the look he was just giving you. If I hadn’t made my presence known he would’ve ravished you right here!” Mila tells you and the back of your neck burns in embarrassment as you turn to Rafe who is also flushed red due to Mila’s words.

“Stop talking about me like I’m not right here” Rafe says as he enters the home, trying to divert the conversation. Yet the topic doesn’t go dismissed because Mila has now handed you the camera and in it is Rafe looking at you like he loved you for real. You wished it was.

“It’s great Mila” you tell her with a smile that you hope is hiding the heartbroken look in your eyes because pretty soon he won’t be around to look at you like that anymore.

“Gonna need that to go next to the one on my desk” Rafe says and your heart flutters for a moment.

“I’ll make sure to get you both a copy” Mila says with a grin as she tucks the camera back into her arms. You smile at her before turning to Rafe who looks so handsome in the black suit he wears.

“You ready to go?” you ask, trying not to let the sadness creep in. Rafe smiles as his hand laces with your own and his free one brushes some hair behind your ear.

“As I’ll ever be” he tells you and you smile as you both start for the door.

“Have fun, don’t stay up too late, and if we decide to have spontaneous sleepovers what do we do?” Mila calls out after you both and you grin.

“We text Mila!” you and Rafe both yell back simultaneously and you hear her satisfied ‘hmph’ as you both exit the small home. Rafe laughs as he leads you to his truck, helping you inside, and doing everything in his power to keep his eyes off of your ass.

“She’s something else” you say as he joins you in the car and Rafe laughs as he puts the truck in gear and reaches over for your hand.

“At least she cares” he tells you with a smile and you nod as you both set off down the road and in the direction of another fancy work party that could more than likely be your last.

When you arrive you can’t help but notice all the pretty women that strut into the event floor, wearing the prettiest dresses, and wearing their makeup done to perfection. Not only are they girls you can now compare yourself too but they are girls Rafe could meet tonight and quite possibly fall in love with. The idea of that was heartbreaking to you. You needed a drink.

“Hey, I’ve got to talk some shop quick do you want to wait for me, maybe find a place to sit?” Rafe quietly asked, his hand squeezing your own and sending butterflies through your stomach.

“Sure, I’m gonna make a pit stop at the bar” you tell him and he grins before swiftly kissing your cheek and rushing off to handle some business. You hate the way your heart clenches as his hand leaves your own but you choose to ignore it anyway and find yourself at the bar.

“What can I get you?” the bartender asks, hands already busy working on another customers drink. A professional and you admired it. It took you years to perfect the working on autopilot.

“Whatever’s strongest, surprise me” you tell him and he nods as if he gets this response every day.

“Rough day?” a voice fills your ears beside you and you turn to see a shaggy haired brunette. His eyes are as green as emeralds and the freckles that scatter his nose tell you it isn’t often he finds himself in a suit. He’s handsome, gorgeous even, and someone you would’ve yearned to be with before Rafe.

“Try rough summer” you tell him and you’re surprised by the laugh that fills your ears. You’re even more surprised when he sits upon the barstool beside you.

“You remember when summer was carefree and just about fun? I miss that” he says, swirling his glass as the ice clinks inside. You smile as he takes a long sip.

“Do you remember just being carefree in general. Nothing mattered but having fun. I miss that” you tell him with a point as the bartender slides his concoction in front of you. You smile kindly as you grab the glass and take a long sip. The bartender waits for your approval which you grant after the strong liquid glides down your throat.

“That was impressive” the boy beside you says and you draw your eyebrows together in confusion as you look at him.

“How so?” you ask and he chuckles lightly.

“That’s Benny’s speciality drink. Strongest thing in here. I’ve seen guys bigger than me choke on that drink” he tells you and you can’t help the proud grin that crosses your face as he says this.

“Well I wish I could tell you it was just pure talent but I own a bar. Comes with the territory” you tell him and now he’s the one raising his eyebrows at you.

“Owns a bar? Then what the hell are you doing at a company party like this?” he asks you and you laugh, surprised how comfortable you’ve become with this boy in a matter of seconds.

“I’m with my-“ your eyes glance the the other side of the event center to see Rafe laughing with a pretty red head, her fingers curling around his wrist. “Rafe Cameron, I came as his date”

“The CEO, so you only run with the big dogs?” he asks as his eyes follow where yours are. He sees Rafe with the same girl and tries not to chuckle to himself knowing he was wasting his time with a girl like that when someone as pretty as you was over here.

“Something like that, we’ve been friends for a while. I figured I’d help him out” there isn’t any dishonesty to your words. Yes you aren’t telling him he was your boyfriend but for once you didn’t want to lie to every person in your life. For all you know Rafe had already chosen this red head over you. So you were allowed to have a light hearted conversation with an attractive man at the bar. Allowed to just feel normal for once.

“That’s nice of you, and at least the drinks are free” he tells you and you smile wide at him.

“Now I’ll drink to that” you say, lifting your drink which he easily clinks his own against before taking a drink.

“I’m Tanner, I’m in marketing and would rather be on a beach than here” he tells you, large hand reaching across the bar. You gladly put your own in it and give him a firm shake.

“I’m Y/N, I’m a bartender that’s looking forward to being the drunk one for once” you tell him which earns you another laugh, his hand leaving yours and instantly making you cold.

“The more we talk the more I have no idea why Cameron is over there instead of here with you” he says and you can’t stop the way your heart doubles in speed at his statement.

“Why’s that?” you ask, trying to hide the shake in your voice as one of the most gorgeous guys you’ve ever seen sits beside you and does his best attempt at flirting. You didn’t have to look to know washboard abs were hiding under that suit of his, you could already tell the way his biceps flexed beneath his suit jacket.

“Well, so far you’re the prettiest and funniest girl in this whole room and I have a feeling he knows that too” you weren’t entirely sure the last time an attractive man had actually called you pretty, butterflies erupted in your stomach but all at the same time your heart clenched because there was an underlying meaning to his words. Rafe already knew who you were and he still wasn’t willing to choose you.

“Then I guess it’s your lucky day” you say and he smiles wide at you, in awe of the confidence that you were mostly faking because if Rafe got to flirt with pretty girls you were allowed to flirt with the first good looking guy to show interest in you in a while.

“Not to be too forward but I’d really like to ask for your number now” he says and you giggle lightly before holding your hand out. He doesn’t hesitate to set his phone in it and you spot the golden retriever in his background. This guy is your dream guy so why the hell could you not stop thinking about Rafe as you type your number into his phone.

“If I don’t text back right away don’t take it to heart. I normally sleep till ten and work till 4am” you tell him, knowing your schedule was insane for most normal people.

“Noted” he tells you with a nod and before you can ask more about him an arm is wrapping around your shoulders and free hand waving down the bartender in front of you.

“Causing some trouble already?” Rafe’s familiar voice fills your senses and you chuckle nervously as the bartender hands Rafe his usual without even asking.

“You say that like it’s surprising” you say which causes Tanner to laugh beside you. “I’m also making friends, Rafe this is Tanner”

“Hey Tanner, nice to meet you” Rafe says, arm leaving your shoulders to shake the boys hand. If Rafe was being honest he wanted to crush it but he knew to be nice and not upset you.

“I was just getting to know your date here, been a long time since I’ve actually held decent conversation with a woman around here” Tanner says fondly and you hope Rafe doesn’t pick up on his underlying meaning to this comment.

“Exactly why I bring her around” Rafe says squeezing you to his side and you smile softly at Tanner, a bit embarrassed at the situation you were currently in.

“You’re lucky” Tanner says, eyes glancing to you because he wished he could stay with you the rest of night. “I better find some of my coworkers, you two have a good night”

“Yeah, it was so nice meeting you Tanner” you try to make your voice feign how much talking to him had meant to you. He smiles fondly at you, wearing a disappointed look to be leaving you behind.

“Have a good night” Rafe tells him and he smiles with a nod before turning away. “Look at you making friends”

“Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t even trying” you tell him and he just smiles, reaching to tuck some hair behind your ears.

“I would, considering that’s how you ended up with me” this has you snorting a laugh which only makes him chuckle until he catches your eyes searching in the direction of where Tanner went. He realizes quickly you liked this boy. You were doing exactly what the both of you agreed to, finding someone else.

“Want to find a table?” you ask turning back just to see Rafe’s jaw clenched. It’s the first time you had ever really seen him angry, at least towards you.

“Was he flirting with you?” Rafe asks, trying to keep his voice calm. He had no right to be jealous, he knew that. Doesn’t mean it was going to stop how he felt though.

“Uh, yeah I guess” you mutter, confused and nervous about this reaction.

“You guess?” his voice is sharp and now you’re more confused then before.

“Well yeah, I gave him my number. It’s no big deal” but he’s removing his arm from around you and a searing pain flows through your chest.

“Fuck, look I know we agreed to this whole seeing other people thing but at my work? Are you trying to make me look like a fool?” his eyes are ablaze and his words are seething out past his lips, you’ve never seen him so worked up before and you instantly feel guilty. Tears burning at the back of your eyes.

“Well I’m sorry Rafe but it’s normally a one in a billion chance a guy like that is interested in a girl like me so forgive me for jumping at the opportunity!” you seethe right back and Rafe’s eyes instantly soften as he sees the tears rimming your own.

“It is not one in a billion” he whispers and you scoff, turning to brush away the tears in your eyes.

“Don’t fucking lie to me Rafe, I’d hope the guy dating me to prove a point would be at least decent enough to do that” you say chugging the rest of your drink, more desperate and in need of a buzz now.

“I’ve always thought you were attractive Y/N” he hisses in defense and you roll your eyes, waving your hand for another drink which the bartender quickly provides.

“Then the next time you want to prove to your friends you can date an ugly fat girl, pick a different one” you say grabbing the fresh drink and starting towards an open table without him. This night had its entirety of ups and downs and you were ready for it to be over. Rafe groaned and tugged at his hair before flagging for a fresh drink himself.

Once the drink was in his hands he was rushing over to where you sat, arms crossed and straw dancing across your lips. No way you weren’t at least buzzed right now but he deserved this cold behavior for being a jealous asshole. He knew that but he had always struggled with controlling his anger. You were no exception considering he never planned on breaking the very rule you set. Falling in love with you. So he knew it was best to just sit next to you calmly and quietly while he waited for you to like him again. You didn’t speak until your drink was empty again.

“Can you get me a new one?” you ask setting the empty glass in front of him and he nodded, standing to go back to the bar that he figured he’d be visiting a lot tonight.

Rafe was correct oh how much he’d be visiting the bar because he could barely see straight and the only thing he could hear was your soft giggles. He knew you were still mad but you were definitely just as drunk as him and you always giggled when you were drunk. He knew you’d rather die then stay the night with him but there was no other way he could get you home safely which is why he checks you both into a room at the hotel and shoots Mila a text letting her know.

“I’m calling an uber” you pout as he guides you towards the elevator, you stumbling slightly.

“Yeah that’s not happening, you get alone in a car with some creep” he tells you, pressing a button to close the elevator doors.

“I’m alone in an elevator with some creep right now” you tell him, arms crossing over your chest and he gulps at the way your breasts push together and spill out of your dress a little more.

“At least I’m a creep you trust” he says taking a step towards you, hands gripping softly at the doughy flesh of your hips. You let out a small squeak as you realize even as drunk as you are that Rafe is checking you out.

“You were mean to me tonight” you pout and he finally lifts his eyes from your chest and pulls you flush against him, hands snaking around your waist. Either you’re crazy or he’s half hard and pressing against your stomach.

“Fuck baby, I know. I just got so jealous” the small gasp that leaves your throat doesn’t go unnoticed and finally you see the darkness of lust in his eyes as he roams your body again. “Just want you all to myself”

“Yeah?” you whisper, barely able to be heard and your heart stops as his hands slide down and squeeze your ass through your dress.

“Yeah doll, you’re all mine” and you don’t even have a moment to comprehend a thought let alone remember you’re mad at him as his mouth meets your own. You react quickly, arms wrapping around his neck and pulling his mouth impossibly closer towards your own. His tongue grazes your own and you can’t help the moan you let out that he muffles with his own mouth. If he wasn’t hard before he definitely was now.

The elevator doors ding open and Rafe pulls away, hand locking on your own as he drags you down the hallway and to your room. You’re giggling again as he shuts you both inside, none of the lights on, but a glow from the city below you shining through the windows. Your giggles stop when Rafe presses against your body again, hands grabbing the zipper of your dress and slowly pulling it down. You know you should be freaking out right now, knowing Rafe let alone anyone had never seen you truly naked. Yet with the alcohol, the look in his eyes, and how badly you want this, you make no movement to stop him. The dress falls and pools around your ankles, leaving you in the bra and thong Mila had picked out for you. You’re nervous for only a split second until Rafe is groaning out loud.

“Baby, please tell me you wore this for me and not that asshole from the bar” you’re not responsible for the way his words make heat pool at your core. You actually don’t think you’ve ever been this aroused due to fear of rejection but you’re drunk mind and the praise from Rafe has taken that fear away. You never thought there’d be a day.

“For you, with encouragement from Mila” and this answer has his lips back on yours in an instant. You whimper as his hand reaches and gropes your breast over your bra. It’s not long until you’re whining in his mouth and reaching for the clasp. Rafe realizes and moves your hand away, reaching for it himself and removing it with ease.

“Can’t tell you how long I’ve been wanting to get my hands on these” Rafe says and you whine as he lets the bra fall to the floor between you both. You watch as he takes in the sight of your bare chest before his hands reach out and give them a squeeze. It’s as if one touch turned him into a mad man and he’s got a mouth around your nipple in a second, his hand pinching the other.

“Rafe, of my God” your fingers curl into his hair as he sucks on each breast, relishing in the soft feeling of them. You’re dripping everywhere and Rafe’s eagerness only excites you more.

Rafe moves to sit on the edge of the bed, keeping your breast in his mouth as he pulls you along. You gasp as his fingers curl into the sides of your thong and starts to lower it. You shimmy along, speeding up the process until they also meet the floor. Once they’re off Rafe pulls back to take a quick look at you. “Wow”

“Rafe?” you’re not sure what you’re even asking for, you just know he needs to do something.

“You’re so perfect, gonna show you that you’re mine and only mine” he says standing, groaning at the way your breast rub across the front of his shirt as he drops his suit jacket from his shoulders.

Once it’s off he’s turning you around and easing you onto the bed. You sit pretty and quiet for him as his hands work slowly at the buttons of his shirt and he drinks your naked form in. You never once thought you’d be comfortable naked in front of someone, especially a fully clothed man. Yet here you were, waiting impatiently for him to remove his clothes so you could gawk at him like he was you. He’s taking to long for your liking though which causes you to reach out and grab the button of his slacks.

“Damnit, Y/N” he hisses as you smile at him innocently, acting as if you accidentally brushing against the bulge in his pants wasn’t on purpose.

You finally get them unbuttoned and the zipper pulled down, your fingers curl into the hem, tugging them desperately. Rafe is trying to calm down, not wanting to cum in his pants before he at least gets to taste you. Once his shirt is fully removed he helps you remove his pants and boxers all at once. You’re shocked at his fully hard member standing proudly and you realize it’s just for you. You exactly as you are, big stomach, wide thighs, stretch marks, and all. He was still just as aroused for you. Which explains why you have your hand wrapped around him without a thought which is something you’ve never done before.

“Okay, okay, you’re tryna kill me” Rafe chuckles as he eases you away and lays you down on the mattress.

“I have no idea what you mean” you tell him and he just shakes his head at you before dropping down to his knees. He slowly eases your legs open and he can tell you’re shy. Yet when he sees how wet you are he has no problem forcing you as wide open for him as possible. Your body shudders as his fingers slowly glides through your folds, collecting slick on his finger. You watch as he reaches it to his mouth and sucks his finger clean. If you weren’t wet before you definitely were now.

“Damn baby, you taste so good” and you don’t realize it until his mouth is on you, sucking your clit into his mouth and teasing your entrance with a finger. Your thighs instantly clench around his head which makes him moan against you. The sensation is enough to have you gripping the sheets, clenching as his tongue laps through your pussy and eats you for all you were worth. You were sure you were crushing his head but Rafe didn’t care, he would gladly be suffocated by you.

He knows you’re close by the way your legs start to tremble so he slowly pushes a finger inside, shocked by how easily you sucked his fingers in. Which is why he doesn’t hesitate to add a second or third, curling them inside. In seconds you’re clamping down on them, twitching from the orgasm he gave you. He slowly pumps his fingers into you, easing you through your finish before removing his mouth and grinning up at you. He’s so hard it hurts but he doesn’t have time to care because this is all he has wanted the entire time of knowing you. Your full trust.

“Rafe, please. I need you inside of me” you tell him when you spot his grinning face and he smiles, removing his fingers which has you hissing. He slowly climbs up your form and helps you readjust on the bed. He reaches for the condom in his wallet, struggling to get his hands to work because yours are on him again, thumb brushing across the precum on his tip.

“You’re so perfect, just the way you are” your heart soars over his words and you quickly pull him down and into a kiss as he pulls on the condom. You continue to kiss him, tongue searching his mouth desperately as he lines up at your entrance. You whimper against his lips as his tip runs through your folds and bumps against your sensitive clit.

“You ready?” he asks pulling away from your mouth and you eagerly nod as he starts to push himself in, head tipping back at how tight you are. It takes only a few moments until he’s flush against you and reaching spots you or anyone else never has before.

“Please do something Rafe” you whine and he takes this as permission to pull out just slightly before pushing back into you. The encouraging moan you let out causes him to find a fast pace. Pretty soon he’s pumping in and out of you, watching as you writhe beneath him and cry out. He’s not going to last long so he reaches for your clit and begins to rub it as fast as he can. His hips begin to stutter when you clench around him, so he moves his hand fast and soon enough you’re squeezing him for all he’s worth and trembling into the mattress. He watches as your eyes roll back into your head and it only takes a few more pumps before he’s finishing and collapsing down on top of you. Neither of you make any effort to move, his dick still nestled tightly inside of you.

“Holy shit” he mutters into your neck, relishing in the feeling of your bare chest pressed against his own and how you breathe unevenly against him from how worn out you were. He had pulled two orgasm from you. He was eager to see if he could get anymore.

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking” you say and he chuckles as he sits up, slowly pulling out of you that has you both hissing through your teeth. You wonder how you’re still wet but based on the attractive man in front of you with pecs you want to take a bite out of and the biggest dick you’ve seen in person, you have an idea why.

“Just wanted to remind you who exactly you belong too” he says, drunkness seeping back in. He hopes to remember this tomorrow and block Tanner from your phone.

“I think I like jealous Rafe” you voice slurs, hands running down his chest and abs.

“Good because he’s sticking around, until the only name you know how to say is mine” he says as his hand runs down your side and squeezes at your bare ass. You giggle as he leans and kisses you again, his dick still semi hard and pressed against you. The noise he makes when you wrap your hand around him is one you plan to memorize.

“My turn”

a/n: you’re welcome, I know it’s been a while but I’ve also given you the longest chapter yet and it also included our characters finally reliving some of that sexual tension so Merry Christmas, Happy New Year, I missed you all ❤️

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[mono-dot-jpeg]

some real nagi thoughts

a/n; it's some god gamer nagi time. as a gamer myself, i want some real gamer shit in headcanons. we may want a duo in gaming but only in genshin??? HELL NO. im like half sorry to genshin players. there's probably some crazy power creep in that, with the amount of characters they have now

[implied to be no blue lock project]

unapologetic gamer! nagi who hate matching pfps and usernames. do you know how weird those can get, especially on the horniest fps games? he doesn't hate you for the idea, he hates the reputation that comes with it.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who plays (mostly) everything, mmos, rpgs, card battlers, moba, rts, auto battlers, etc. he does not limit himself (kind of), and he's okay with playing games on his own.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who cannot simply pause his online matches for you. you'll have a damn hard time getting him off those ones. "it's too much of a bother to leave the match now, i'll get a timeout if i leave."

unapologetic gamer! nagi who hates gacha games because "it's always more of a cash grab than most games i even play." and he plays games from riot and ea company.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who has definitely went free to play on other games just out of pure spite when he heard about how bad genshin was. "there's no excuse for them to be so stingy, they didn't learn from honkai impact."

unapologetic gamer! nagi who loves gore and horror games more than anything. he won't stop playing those. he'll be considerable enough to play away from you if you hate them, but he's like locked in, headphones on max, and stuck in his chair. you're not getting him back for hours.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who plays slow games despite how much they make him tired. he can't play life/farming sims because of this. he can do his best to speedrun it but he gets impatient.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who jumps from game to game. he gets fixated on different games every few months. when you see him, he's talking about them casually, or he's infodumping everything he physically can. he has that little passionate shine in his eyes, like when he plays a good game of soccer.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who plays ranked like the loser he is. he doesn't really care about the toxic people in those matches. he likes a challenge. but he does unintentionally rile people up though with his nonchalant and blunt words. don't play ranked with this man, he is in diamond/low masters, and he is so tilted about it even if he doesn't say it.

unapologetic gamer! nagi who definitely needs to be taken care of. god help him, reo was a godsend to deal with his shit. when he gets tilted, he's somehow even more lazier than he normally is. "being angry is such a hassle." but you know he's fucking pissed off out of his mind about to smash his desk about that one bad match that gets him de-ranked.

[argisthebulwark]

All Emotion Dripped Away

summary: skyrim men and their red flags <3 gn reader, no gendered terms or y/n used. feat: Brynjolf, Miraak, Vilkas, Farkas, Cicero, Mercer warnings: some unhealthy relationship dynamics.

Brynjolf's inability to commit is maddening. The worst part is that you understand exactly what led to him acting this way - losing Karliah and Gallus at such a young age, Mercer effectively ruining every positive moment they've shared, thinking that he's lost you. You can understand his aversion to committing himself to another person but the knowledge doesn't make it any easier to handle. "Must we put a label on it?" He groans, dragging your chair closer to his. He leans closer, lips only a few inches away - he knows exactly what he's doing. It's his most common maneuver - kiss you until you can hardly think, distracting you from anything deeper. "It's difficult to think with you so close." You breathe, attempting to resist his charm. "Aye, as you've said." "Don't you want more?" You ask, allowing his fingers to creep under your armor. "Why ruin a good thing?" His kiss is full of heat, a promise for more to come if you're willing to forget this conversation.

At first, Miraak's protectiveness was sweet. He accompanied you on missions far from home and fought at your side. Losing Mora's power had only caused him to become more focused on retaining the skills he had. Over time, it grew. You noticed him tagging along on shorter trips, soon finding that even a quick visit to a nearby village for supplies was a two person job. You'd faced dragons and giants, climbed High Hrothgar and aided in the resolution of a Civil War - yet it seemed you couldn't be trusted to walk a few miles from home. "I don't want to risk you, my love." He insists, falling into step at your side. "What if you were harmed? What if you're hurt and no one is there to aid you?" You don't like this almost childish way he seems to view you - once he'd doted on you, though now it almost seems as if he doesn't trust you to walk without some grievous injury befalling you. He's coddling you.

As an outsider, Vilkas had always appeared confident, headstrong, willing to tackle any problem. He's strong and intelligent and well spoken, of course he can handle things. As a partner, you've been surprised by his avoidance. When you were a recruit he had no trouble voicing your many faults, even as his Harbinger he's been critical - but not his partner. Those problems remain firmly within his own mind. You know he bottles them up, stewing on these emotions until he talks himself out of being upset, rationalizing everything. "If you don't tell me what it is you need, I cannot give it to you." You've pleaded with him, desperate to make this work. "I love you more than I can say - please, all I need is for you to talk to me." "There is nothing to talk about."

Farkas' recklessness had saved your ass on many occasions, but as his spouse it left you a nervous wreck. He'd often laugh off your worries before leaving for days, unable to communicate due to clearing out some bandit camp. His lack of self preservation reduced you to a mess of nerves, trying to work through it but unable to stop your eyes from wandering each time a door opened. "It's not a big deal." Farkas pouts, kneeling before you. His armor's all strapped into place and a pack of supplies hangs over one shoulder - he's about to leave again. Your heart kicks into overdrive, fingers shaking when they clasp the sides of his face. "I always come back safe, dear." He reminds you, that easy grin on his face. "Do you not trust me out there without you?" "I'd feel quite a bit better if I were at your side." You admit, staring pointedly at the sword slung across his back. "We do work well together." He agrees, a kiss planted on your cheek before he stands. "But you're the Harbinger, you have more important duties." Of course you did - your duties included paperwork and worrying, both of which were beginning to wear on your nerves.

You can't fault poor Cicero for his inexperience - he spent far too many years alone, no one but the Night Mother to keep him company. Isolation had changed him, left him lacking the knowledge many others took for granted. Of course you love him, you'd fallen head over heels for the fool and never looked back, but your relationship didn't come without it's own trials. He'd never learned the common things to do in a relationship; little things many couples did like dates were nonexistent and he had no clue how a normal relationship was paced. Falling for each other was easy, why hold back? Why not go all the way? It didn't help that his relationship with the other assassins was strained at best - some were friendly, others shut him out entirely. You were the only one he could turn to, the only one willing to share a meal and a laugh with your beloved Keeper. "Listener, will you teach poor Cicero how to love you?" He coos, gently combing the hair away from your face. Your first instinct is to refuse, to tell him that it's too much - but the peaceful smile melts your heart. "I want to love you the right way."

Often, you find yourself what Mercer likes more - being with you or keeping secrets from you. He omits things that don't even matter which only heightens your anxiety on the topic; if he's willing to lie about something as trivial as who went on what job or which client he's meeting with, what else could he be hiding from you? You tell yourself that it's nothing, just a survival trait he's picked up over the decades of leading the Thieves Guild, but it's impossible to ignore. He doesn't seem to enjoy the jealousy it incites within you but you can't quite puzzle out what he gets from it. In the end, it's easier to accept that he merely enjoys keeping secrets. Only the gods knew how long it had been since he'd last opened up to anyone and you were afraid that prying would make him snap shut the little window you've carved out in his heart.

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Honesty

I am back! Mostly because I got time and I feel like it.

Am I going through the ideas I have for prompts/drabbles quickly? Yes. Very. The idea pile is getting low but I don't feel like pacing them out. What is the fun in that?

Anyway. Lets continue where we left off... shall we? @spotaus as promised your daily tag!

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

We going! And we are still with Cross <3

*--------------------*

Cross watches from their nest as Dust just remains rolled up around Nightmare. Still not moving or talking at all. Nightmare himself doesn't seem bothered as he clearly is unwilling to let go of Dust either.

Cross remains where he is now. Watching over the two as Killer finishes up with the police people and Horror stalks around their area. Making sure it is still clean.

Cross feels the exhaustion creep back up but he refuses to rest. He isn't going to rest! Not as long as his mates and their child-

Cross feels himself blush as he shakes his skull. Trying to ban the thought. Focus! No need for useless and wishful daydreaming. It is especially not the time to think about those things now!

Horror enters the house before Killer and joins them. He looks at him and Cross makes sure to smile back. Horror is already stressed himself. No need to add to it. Cross has no doubt that Horror is also exhausted after all that happened.

Horror gives his nice and handsome half smile before sitting with Dust, he doesn't touch right away "Bunny??"

Dust doesn't speak but Cross can see him turn his skull a tiny bit.

Horror must have seen it too "Can I see Nightmare?" Horror's hand is slightly shaking. clearly worried.

Dust remains still but nods as he forces himself to turn. Moving so slow and careful.

Cross had once asked Dust what it felt like. To have so much power and magic. Dust had shrugged and said that it sometimes made it hard to control how he moved or how he used his magic.

Cross wonders if the slow movements and slow turns is now Dust's magic being overactive to try and protect Nightmare... or it are his parental instincts... Maybe even both? Cross still can't get over that Dust just controls it. Now with the lightning too! It is so powerful and wild and Dust just sits down and breaths through it... Cross is still unsure how anyone in the multiverse could messure up to that! Cross still remembers how it had felt to really see Dust use his magic and powers for the first time. all that time ago... Cross knows form that moment that this was going to cause issues for him as he still remembers it and could not stop thinking about it. And now he just got more powerful?! With the same calm control even if it no doubt only got harder to control? Cross is in trouble... such deep trouble.

Cross focusses on Horror and that may have been a mistake on its own. Horror smiles so painfully soft at Dust and Nightmare nad Cross feels his soul do that little flip again. Horror's devotion and care is so obvious. It is open and honest and Cross always feels unsure if it is aimed at him. Worried he will do something that makes it so painfully obvious of what he wants. Cross doesn't want that. He can't deal with them not wanting him like he wants them. Them not loving him like he does them.

He is content like this. Seeing them together and happy and safe.

Horror has managed to get Dust to uncurl again and accept being moved back into his arms. Horror seems to be gently checking Nightmar enad his magic.

He huffs unhappily "His magic is unsettled."

Cross feels deep fear as he leans closer. "What does that mean?" Was he too slow after all?! He should have been faster and just broken him out and-

Horror looks at him and reaches for him. a moment later his hand is on his shoulder and Cross can't help but lean into the touch a bit. His shoudlers relax a little bit as Horror rubs and massages the shoulder slightly.

Hroror speaks calmly "Calm down. I think... probably trauma and fear response. Just means his magic and mana is all concentrated around his soul. a protection kinda... Just means his magic needs to settle first before he can eat again." again Horror looks deeply unhappy.

Cross feels intense relieve before feeling like scum. Horror is terrified of food shortage and someone going hungry... This must be terrible to Horror to know Nightmare can't have any food for a while.

Cross searches for the right words "euh... how long... does it usually take... and can't we give him small things? maybe just something to drink? A smoothie could maybe work?"

Horror sighs as he gently rubs Nightmare's side and belly as Dust holds their tiny babybones close again. muttering soft reassurances again. Horror looks at him and thinks. Cross feels a bit bad for asking exact numbers. Horror said numbers often leave him confused after what happened.

Horror manages to push through though, he always does... it is one of those things that is amazing about him, and Horror answers his question "usual? Day... two max... and for the food it is a hard no. It can upset his magic and his magic will start expelling anything not the same. meaning he would just... lose more magic as he vomits it up." a sad but resigned look.

Cross frowns and nods "not even soup? that is liquid adn stuff..."

Horror shakes his skull "Still too heavy and sitll not like his own body and his own magic."

Cross frowns and tries to give him a reassuring smile "Well... We will just need to keep some fruits and yogurt ready. For when his magic settles a bit." Horror usually gives Nightmare that when Nightmare's magic can't absorb a lot of food.

Horror considers it before nodding his own agreement.

Cross takes a moment to lean back and relax. just a moment. Just because he can enjoy the sight of Horror having Dust in his lap and Nightmare comfortable and safe in their combined arms. It is nice. Cross loves seeing these moments. Being part of them is just as amazing!

The door opens and Cross turns quickly and waits. the sound of a lock turning and moments later Killer walks into the room. looking slightly done but he gives them a thumbs up "We should be good. Gave them the rundown and talked them into the right direction."

Horror nods as he gives his own small rundown on Nightmare's health.

Dust sighs and mutters "Talking about health... He needs a bath..." Nightmare nods but doesn't pull away from the hug.

Cross smiles and nods "Good idea! YOu can take Nightmare and get him comfortable and I will guard you guys as Killer and Horror get ready for bed too!" then after all of them are comfortable Cross will quickly get ready for bed and join them and just get to enjoy feeling them all near.

Killer steps in "Actually. Horror you mind helping Dust with Nighty?" Horror already shakes his shoulder as he gets up. Taking both Dust and Nightmare towards the bathroom.

Cross frowns and turns to Killer.

Oh. He is mad.

Furious even.

Killer glares but still has that smile on his face "We need to talk." and he grabs his hand and pulls him along. Cross doesnt'fight it as they end up in their green house.

It is gorgeous in here. Especially at night as the moon light shines in through the glass panes and reflects of everything in here. These plants are already full grown and some are starting to bare fruit again. All the plants in here are magical in nature to help them get food that they actually need in their diet.

Killer glares at him full force and Cross can't help but think he fits in perfectly. He is just as pretty if not even more.

Damnit Cross. Skull in the game. Not the moment.

Killer glares at him and hisses "Waht were you thinking?"

Cross glares back "I was getting Nightmare out and to safety. Sorry I wasn't sneaky enough or caused issues with the police!"

Killer groans as he rubs his face "I don't give a flying fuck about the police Cross! You think I care? No! I will fly through my teeth and think of a solution. I can deal with that! YOu know what I can't deal with? You going to fight a threat on your own! Alone! One we don't know!"

Cross glares "There was no other option."

Killer glares back "There was! We could have moved as a team Cross!"

Cross throws up his arms "Not fast enough! And I was fine! THose assholes didn't even come close to hurting me!"

Killer groans and grabs him by the skull and pulls him down to glare at him fully "How can I get it through to you that you stop treating yourself as expandable?!"

Cross stops and mtuters "what?"

Killer glares at him "of course we were going to go after him as soon as we could! Of course we were going to cause trouble! Of course we were going to hurt those who did it and make sure they never did it again! We all would have! But you! You going out on your own and going to confront a threat on your own?! One we don't even know? Damnit Cross it could have been someone form the multiverse! Someone who COULD actually hurt us!" He glares at him "When are you finally going to believe we don't want you to get hurt either?!"

Cross can't think. It has been such a long day and he was so afraid of having done stuff wrong or be too slow or made a mistake... and the only thing he did wrong was... get himself in danger? to not take backup? Cross blinks "what..?" he is so tired and Killer is there.

Killer's anger seems to disappear as he just looks desperate "Why do you still think we don't want to help you? Why do you still think your hurt matters less than ours?"

Cross can't answer. because answering means... means... They are everything to him. They are the world and Cross just wants them to be happy... Is that so bad?

Killer frowns as he removes one of his hands from his skull and Cross wants it back. then the hand rubs under his sockets and oh... he is crying. damnit. Cross hates the fact he cries quickly.

Killer frowns and speaks softer "Hey... I get it... emotions ran high and all that stuff... I.... I am mad but just becuase you could have been hurt... you know?" Killer looks to the side.

Cross nods as he watching Killer. It is just still so rare for Cross to see Killer as anything but confident or smug... Killer looks almost awkward like this... it is cute.

Killer sighs but gives agrin "We are on the same page now? No needly sacrificing! Even no needed sacrificing!"

Cross mutters a yes. too afraid that moving will remove the hands holding his skull.

Killer grins widely "good! Then we can go to the others and I will remind you of this conversation if you start slipping again and-"

They are kissing.

Cross isn't even sure how this happened. But Cross is 99% sure it is his fault.

Cross opens his sockets and sees Killer just staring at him. Frozen. Cross pulls back right away "I shouldn't have done that..." shit. shit shit shit shit shit-

Killer's hands got a lot tighter and he pulls him close and.... they are kissing again.

How does this keep happening?!

Killer pulls away and grins "there! Now we both did it! problem solved!" he looks so nervous.

Cross blinks and can't help but mutter again "Really shouldn't have done that..." he is a fucking idiot and selfish and-

Killer's hold gets almost painfully tight "why not?" it isn't a shout. Not even normal volume. it sounds quiet and... sad... Killer then snorts and winks "Not interested after all?" Cross would have beleived him if he couldn't still see the very light grey eye lights in his normally dark sockets.

Cross shakes his skull then nods then groans "it isn't... it isn't that.. I lo-like! Like you a lot! And I like this! But. It is unfair because i don't just love you! I love Dust... I love horror. It is unfair to start something when... when part of me isn't in it! Isn't all here for it and... and... I am sorry... I really shouldn't have and... and..." and they are kissing again. fuck this keeps happening and Cross just wants more each time.

Killer pulls away with a grin "Well... first... that solves the issue as I also very much want to date both Horror and Dust. So i am sure we can figure something out!"

Cross blinks "You cna just do that? Date multiple people?"

killer stares at him for a moment "Right... I keep forgetting that you were stuck in a universe that was pretty much a cult."

Cross glares at Killer "Stop calling XTale a cult."

Killer raises a brow "Fine. Just because we got more important stuff to talk about... Yes you can dat emultiple people as long as everyone connected to this dating situation is okay with it. it means you are in a polyamory relationship." he grins "probably makes you poly too! That you want a relationship with multiple people and stuff."

Cross blinks and shrugs "i dunno about that... I found many people attractive but well... I only ever really wanted to be with you three..." he feels hismelf blush and looks tot he side.

Killer laughs adn gives him a soft and short kiss on the teeth before backing off. He gives him a grin and nods to the door "We should get back to the others..."

Cross rubs his arm as he glances at the door "Waht about... this?" us? Them? all of them? together? Cross hadn't known that was an option! This is like the perfect solution!

Killer laughs before grinning "We will have to see if they are interested... But first we need a moment to wind down... it has been one fucking hellish day and I jsut want to hug our baby and sleep."

Cross feels the exhaustion all over again and he sighs "I agree..."

They walk out of the greenhouse together and get dressed for bed quickly. Cross does sneak a few glances at Killer. No longer feeling bad for sneaking looks and admiring one of them now. Now that it is okay. At least wiht Killer.

They will have to dicuss with Horror and Dust what this means for them and what is even possible and what everyone is comfortable with.

But first? Time to sleep with their child and relax. They need it... and Cross thinks they deserved it too.

*--------------------*

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

[stxrvel]

hate is a strong word pt. 3

summary: after a few bumps, you and Bucky finally have that long-awaited conversation.

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: +5k

warnings: bad words, mentions of kidnapping and trauma surrounding it, reader is still stubborn when it comes to ther safety, mention of thoughts regarding death or possible death, reader tries to play it cool in front of everyone but she has a big trauma inside, reader is finally taking her time to understand things, bucky barnes?

note: this took me a while but still i hope you guys like this! this is the final part for this mini series and it didn't end up being as long as i thought but im still really satisfied. just know that feedback is always appreciated and i love reading your comments! see you next time <3

previous

Things had become tense at the Complex. Not because of you, or Bucky. Black Lightning was attacking all of the Avengers' blind spots and was leaving them defenseless on the battlefield. It might seem like a joke that a single person with the power of lightning could defeat the planet's greatest defenders, but they couldn't underestimate a person with pain, a purpose and nothing to lose.

You had not been cleared to return to the field, yet Fury entrusted you with a special mission.

Find the infiltrator.

It was no surprise to anyone that lately it seemed Black Lightning was always three steps ahead of all your plans, any ambush or surprise takeover would be reversed and they would end up back at the starting point. Fury, very thoroughly, gave you a list of possible suspects that you were to intercept any communications from. Even though you couldn't go out in the field, you had a job that was almost as important, so you did it with great zeal.

But it was already ten days away. And, although the director didn't ask you to, you also kept an eye on the activity of the team members against Black Lightning, trying to spot any suspicious behavior through the cameras.

That's how you came to be in front of his desk, asking him to let you chase a man who went out every day at the same time and always came back two hours later, without fail. It would be too complicated for him to accept, for the same reason you weren't going on field missions yet, but you had to try. Besides, who else would he send if no one else on the team knew about it? He had to trust you.

He had to, and yet…

“No fucking way,” the director shook his head, taking with the air your precious opportunity to provide the team with a way out.

“This might be the only chance we have to get the upper hand on her,” you scowled at him, indignation bubbling in your chest.

“I'm not going to send you into the lion's den one more time,” his determined look left you speechless for a few seconds. It seemed you weren't the only one who kept thinking back to that ambush a few weeks ago.

Maybe the fear of being close to Black Lightning once again should be stronger than the desire to defeat her, but knowing the stakes gave you a little more courage to confront her. Still, you had to tense your jaw discreetly to keep Fury from noticing the fear that wanted to creep into your eyes. The very thought sent shivers down your spine, but… if not you, then who? If not now, when?

“In the position we're in, do you think that's what we should be focusing on now?”

The words burned in your throat, but you fought hard to keep your expression composed and furious. The fear in your chest was clashing with the discomfort of your rationality and you felt dizzy.

Fury shook his head once more.

“It's too risky a possibility, what are you supposed to do if she finds you?”

“I'm going to stay away from them. I don't need to hear what they talk about, just watch them together.”

The man wasn't going to budge, you knew that. Maybe, after all, you were just there to follow the regular conduit. So that, afterwards, you wouldn't have anyone wondering why you did it. You gave him the chance to go along with you on this, to be with you, because he had to know that a simple "no" couldn't stop you, and he wouldn't take it.

“There's no way she doesn't realize you're around her.”

“She doesn't carry a thermos sensor on her, Fury. And now we know she knows all our plans in advance because someone tells her, not because she has super mental powers or telekinesis.”

“I can't let you do that, Y/N.”

“And what were you planning to do with this information? If you're not going to send me and no one else on the team knows.”

Fury didn't respond.

There was nothing more you could say to him. If he didn't want to take that chance, then you would. It was a stupid, crazy, risky plan, probably the most dangerous you'd ever come up with, but it was also a great chance to get something when you'd only spent days losing.

You met Natasha when you arrived at the Complex common room. Bucky was there. You hadn't seen him since that last conversation you had in the intelligence room.

“How did it go?”

“Horrible.”

Natasha was the only one who half knew what you were planning, only because you couldn't contain the full truth to yourself without believing you were going to explode. A couple of days ago you had told her that you were going to ask Fury to let you go back to field missions, because it had been over a month. You left out some details, important and unnecessary details, but that was essentially what it was all about.

“Maybe it's for the best,” Natasha commented after pouting her lips. “It's still very fresh.”

“You guys are more traumatized by that incident than I am.”

“You could have died,” Natasha frowned at your words, looking at you as if she couldn't believe you would take so much credit for what happened. It looked like you had committed a crime.

“But I didn't die. And everyone treats me like I did,” you returned the gesture, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Don't blame us for worrying about you,” Natasha tried to move closer, raising her hand to put it on your shoulder, but you pulled away sharply with an annoyed expression. You didn't miss the flash of confusion that passed over her face.

“I've always done these missions, Natasha, what's different now?”

“That she almost killed you and you haven't given yourself time to process that like you should,” Natasha had always cared about your well being and having conversations like this from time to time wasn't that strange to you, but on this occasion it really had been too long and you hated that they think you were incapable of moving on with your life because of something that happened over a month ago that was no different than something that might have happened to you before.

“I risk my life on every mission, just like everyone else.”

“Don't downplay the importance of that. Worry more about your life.”

“Are you pulling a Bucky Barnes on me right now?”

Natasha let out an exasperated sigh. You watched as she run one of her hands through her reddish hair. You sure looked like you were going to explode, you felt your skin boiling.

Maybe you were having an overreaction, but who was determining that limit? There was no one in that Complex who knew you better than yourself. You hated to think that Fury had more reasons for not letting you back into the field, like you weren't as strong as the others with incredible powers and abilities. It was ridiculous.

And Natasha was saying ridiculous things too… but she cared anyway. You couldn't condemn her for that.

The big sigh you let out caught her attention.

“I'm sorry,” you told her, your voice a little more muffled and lower than before.

“I'm sorry too,” Natasha shook her head when she saw you were about to protest and took the floor again, “Sometimes I forget that you're one of the strongest and bravest members on the team. No one goes through everything you went through and still lives with strength like that.”

Did she just read your mind?

“Keep trying,” Natasha patted your arm. “With Fury, I mean. Maybe tomorrow you'll have better luck.”

You couldn't wait for tomorrow. He'd refuse again, that was for sure.

Natasha gave you a tight-lipped smile and you could barely return the gesture. You wanted to drag her back to your side to tell her what you really wanted to do, but you couldn't, nothing assured you that she would react differently to Fury, or worse, try to join you. Natasha was someone who would give her life to protect the team, but you were no slouch.

Besides, this was your kind of mission. Fury gave it to you because he knew you were the only one who would know how to handle it, even if he didn't want to accept it or want to let you execute it. Maybe only one person could come, but… No. You didn't have time to think about that.

You had to do it. And it had to be that night. You couldn't stand one more meeting with the team with no new news, having to endure their thinly disguised looks of disappointment. That was it, it was disappointing to not be able to get breakthroughs and keep losing at every attempt. Here was the opportunity and it could go very well or very badly. There was only one way to find out.

-

You had already learned the path by heart. It was the tenth day since you all had gone into crisis so you had time to draw lines on your mental map. Natasha, Sam and Tony had left the Complex and the rest of the remaining team were probably asleep or something. The point was that the coast was clear.

The person you were to follow would be leaving in fifteen minutes and that was your time to get ahead of them. You took one of the motorcycles from the parking lot and started your way to where the meeting point would be. You would leave the motorcycle at a great distance and walk the rest of the way in silence.

You were sure it was a good plan.

It had to be.

Several minutes passed when, in that building in front of the abandoned chapel, you saw the man with the glasses enter after looking both sides of the street. You were thankful that the shadows and darkness played in your favor that time. You tiptoed up to the chapel door after a few seconds. It was made of very old wood, old enough that the cracks inside it were large enough to get a good view of the inside of the building.

There, in the middle of the night and the shadows, you saw her. Once again you were close to her. And in front of her was that mysterious man who seemed to be the infiltrator in the team. You felt sorry for that poor devil.

That is until you felt movements around you and, just when it seemed that Black Lightning's head was turning in your direction, a pair of arms wrapped around you and pulled you away at incredible speed from the wooden door.

It had all happened so fast that you didn't even react until that person pulled you both into the building next to the chapel. There, hidden, it didn't even occur to you to raise your voice. You could see out of the corner of your eye through the window on your left side that Black Lightning came out of the chapel roughly, her head moving in every possible direction, surely looking for the source of the sense of surveillance she must have had.

You watched her until the person behind you gave you a tug in the opposite direction and you could do nothing but frown at him.

It was amazing how you could recognize him even without hearing or seeing him. It was as if your unconscious knew Bucky Barnes in essence.

Neither of you moved until you stopped hearing the voices a short distance away and until Black Lightning's distinctive whirring sound echoed as she flew off.

Your chest rose in sync with your accelerated breathing, increasing as the seconds passed in silence.

You had an internal dilemma thinking that night could have possibly ended very badly.

“You know what, I know how you get away with those crazy plans you always have,” you heard his voice low against your ear, his breath moving the unbound strands of your hair and sending electric currents throughout your body. “You've got all the fucking luck in the world on your side.”

His arms finally pulled away from your body. The hand covering your mouth left a cold trace on its path away from you. Everything seemed to move a little slower.

“Are you okay?”

Bucky grabbed your shoulders to turn you around. His chest was the first thing you saw, your head tilted slightly to the ground in a kind of shock. It was the adrenaline of the moment clearly, the possibility that she had found you and you hadn't returned that night to the Complex, the endless situations of suffering you could have gone through far away, no one knowing where you were or how to find you, all falling at once on top of your head.

You had been so close to death before on several occasions, but the feeling never became less tolerable. Sometimes it was easier to process it, with too much outside stimuli allowing you to escape the density of the situation. But at that moment, as at some others, the feeling of fear was overwhelming. Maybe you could walk over it, as you planned to do, but it would be whispering behind your ear at every turn, furrowing through your nerves and your bones as if it was born for that sole purpose.

Bucky moved you at some point, as you kept thinking about how you should process that not-so-close-to-death experience. Fury was quite right not to have allowed you to do this in the first place and you hated to think that maybe you should have listened to him. But you really hadn't counted on seeing her again to paralyze you so much. The idea hadn't scared you as much as it did at that moment.

Suddenly you were in a car that was parked in front of the Complex and it made you wonder how the hell Bucky had gotten to that place that no one knew about, when you had never told anyone where you were going.

You had probably fallen asleep because the next thing you knew you were in your room in complete silence with Bucky sitting on the edge of your bed. You barely looked at him not knowing what to say. How had you moved so fast? Did you really get so deep in your thoughts?

Well, enough was enough. Nothing had happened. You were fine. Just your luck. You didn't have to face Black Lightning again with the lowest chance of winning. Bucky had gotten you out of there. You were fine.

“How did you know where I was?”

“You took my bike,” Bucky shook his shoulders slightly, his serious face scanning yours for some kind of clue. “I got an alarm on my cell phone and when I saw that it had been you... I don't know, something told me you were going to do something stupid.”

Bucky rested his hands on the mattress and your eyes followed the movement as if it was the only thing you could see, the only thing you could focus on. Maybe you did, you didn't want to see him. Besides the fact that you felt ashamed because you really had been reckless, you still didn't want to be that close to him after what had happened.

But that wasn't the time to think about that. You had found the insider. You were right. Now, how were you going to tell Fury without him freaking out? He'd probably take away your license and ban you from the Complex.

“I got some great information thanks to that stupid plan,” you tried to lash out in a more cheerful tone, but it felt bittersweet between your lips. If Bucky felt it false, he didn't comment on it.

“What were you were doing anyway?”

“Fury had a suspicion that there was an infiltrator on the team. He asked me to trace calls, but… that wasn't getting me anywhere. I had been following one particular person who I noticed was always going out and coming back at the same time by watching the security cameras…”

When you ventured to raise your head, Bucky had a raised eyebrow.

“Sometimes I got bored of being there all day and checked the cameras, it's not a crime.”

“I didn't say it was.”

“You're judging me with that look.”

Bucky smiled, a short laugh flooding in.

“So you saw that person and decided they were the insider.”

“They had to be. I had to check it out.”

“And Fury wouldn't let you so you stole my bike and went to find out on your own in one of the worst ideas you've ever had.”

You twisted your lips. “Yeah, basically.”

“At least you're not contradicting me that it was a terrible plan.”

“No, I knew it was a horrible plan, but what else could I do? I was tired of not being able to get anything out of the reports and I had a great chance in the palm of my hand. Tell me if you wouldn't have done it.”

Bucky pursed his lips, but didn't deny your words. And that's because yes, it would have been even more stupid of you to listen to Fury and ignore everything after he had denied you a clearance.

Now you had a big advantage over Black Lightning. You had to tell Fury.

“You could have told me,” Bucky suddenly commented, his gaze wandering along the wall to the side of the bed.

You arched an eyebrow at him, even though he wasn't looking at you and snorted in disbelief.

“And for what, so you could charge me with Fury?”

“Ouch,” the man in front of you pretended his chest hurt and his right hand went to hover over his heart. “I would've gone along with you, of course.”

“Are you kidding me?” you let out a laugh.

“Of course I'm not. You're right about one thing and that's that it's a big advantage, but yes I would've preferred it if you hadn't gone alone. What would have happened if it hadn't been my bike you took? I don't even want to…”

A dense silence followed Bucky's words. That had been a possibility you had considered indirectly, in the back of your head, where reason didn't enter. It followed you like a blur, something you didn't know exactly what it was, but it made your hair stand on end to remember it was there.

And you had thought about telling him, you almost succumbed to the idea, but you were afraid it would go badly for both of you. For him.

“Very convenient, but thank you for following me.”

Bucky shrugged.

“We were right to follow our instinct.”

-

Things with Fury had become tense and you hadn't come out of one punishment and into another. Still, the information you provided was just what the team needed to get back three steps ahead of Black Lightning. She was a powerful woman, yes, but they could prepare much better.

The team was busy for days, almost weeks. You had too much time for yourself and office work, so much so that you already knew that by the time you could get back to field missions, nothing would get you out of there.

You would run into some of the team members from time to time and chat about anything. Sometimes you could almost say you missed the company of some of them. Even Bucky, at times, made himself missed.

Everything returned to a bit more of a normal rhythm when Black Lightning was defeated and locked. That day the team had a huge dinner. You spent almost the entire night with Natasha and Clint; Steve showed up from time to time and Tony moved from table to table. It was a very peaceful evening with nothing new to interrupt it. The next day you would return to the ordinary trot, but that night you all enjoyed it quite a bit.

You'd like to say you'd talked to Bucky, but…

You went several weeks without seeing him, as the team struggled to stop Black Lightning, and just as you continued with your office work and no longer had as much pressure on your shoulders having ripped that woman's Achilles heel, you used a lot of that time to do a lot of self-reflection. Weeks went by, so you had plenty of time. Also with some advice from Natasha, of course.

It had been so long since you'd last seen him that meeting him in the hallway of the rooms felt strange.

“Hello,” he was the first to speak, as you held tightly the container with the coffee you had half-drunk that morning.

It was barely dawn. You had gone to the kitchen to make your morning coffee and were on your way back to your room when you found him coming out of his. There was no way you could run away, he was literally right in front of you. But you weren't sure that was what you wanted to do, you were just too nervous. You had thought about a lot of things during all that time without seeing him, but not what to say to him when you saw him again.

“Hi,” you replied almost in a whisper, and you wanted to slap yourself at how embarrassed you sounded. You felt your face heat up.

“How are you doing?”

“Fine. All good,” you pursed your lips, swaying on your feet. You felt like you were on unfamiliar ground. “What about you?”

“Same, all good,” Bucky shook his head in assent, mimicking your gesture. He still had his white pajamas on and his right hand on the doorknob.

“I'm glad,” you tore the words from your throat, wanting to fill the silence that wanted to envelop you tightly.

Bucky continued to shake his head in slight movements, as he averted his gaze to the hallway. You had no idea what to do now, you never thought seeing him again would be so awkward.

“This is… weird,” Bucky spoke again after a few seconds, looking unsure and confused.

“Yeah, too much.”

“Sorry.”

“No,” you shook your head quickly and moved closer unconsciously. “It's not your fault. It's nothing. We must have become unaccustomed to each other's presence.”

You saw him tilt his head.

“It's just that it's been too long,” with his comment he agreed with you, suddenly looking a little less uncomfortable. “Speaking of which, how did it go? Because of what happened with Black Lightning, I mean.”

“Oh,” you took the container with your coffee in your hands, lowering your gaze. “I've been fine. It was a rough few days after that, but I'm better now. I'm not sure why that happened.”

“Really? I'd be stranger if it hadn't happened,” Bucky admitted, and at your frown, he elaborated, “She had kidnapped you a month before, we had no idea where you were. Even if it had been a short time, you must have felt desperate. She out-powered you.”

“But I've had near-death experiences before,” you shook your head. You'd had that debate in your head several times before, and it seemed Bucky had come to the same conclusion you had.

“When you've dealt with that kind of situation, it's been very easy for you to get through it because you were in control. Chance was up to you. But not that time, you were at the mercy of someone else, their power or their pity. There was nothing you could do.”

His eyes sparkled in the sunlight filtering through the window and you realized that you had missed his sympathetic, condescending gaze from time to time. You hadn't seen him many times before, especially not before that talk you'd had a couple of months ago that changed everything.

One such day, in the rain and thunder, you thought that a lot of what Bucky had to offer scared you. Maybe you hated him because imagining wanting him was so much harder when that decision was up to him and not you. Hate could be controlled unilaterally, love could not.

In conclusion, you were a very controlling person.

“You are very wise,” you smiled through your reply.

Bucky smiled too, a small gesture that triggered something in your chest, in your heart or to the side. You weren't sure where it was.

“I hope this time has served you well in many ways,” he commented as he stepped fully out of his darkened room and closed the door. “I'm going to the kitchen,” he gave a glance at your container, “I guess I'll see you later.”

You nodded absently. “Yeah, see you later.”

Bucky gave you a tight-lipped smile before he started walking back the way you had come. Watching him walk away left you with a sense of anticipation, because there was still so much you wanted to tell him but had no idea how to go about it. You still struggled a bit with the words, but you were already sure of what you wanted. And one of those things was for him to know as soon as possible.

You also struggled with the possible outcomes. There weren't many, but you didn't like one of them and you thought it might make you sad. You were trying to make peace with not controlling others and stop being a lone wolf about it, but it was still a little difficult.

You didn't see Bucky until a couple of days later.

It was Steve's birthday and Tony of course threw an amazing party as a celebration. The whole team was there and many other people close to them. You all had become a bit secretive since the issue with the insider, especially Tony with how he handled meetings and in this case, reunions. So it was crowded, but not overly so as it used to be.

You had had a good time, you chatted with everyone and drank what you wanted. You spent time sitting, on the dance floor and near the games. You enjoyed everything until finally your legs gave out. It was past midnight when you stepped out onto the balcony to finally get some air. The drink made you somewhat cheerful and social, but you continued to keep your sanity and reason. Enough so that seeing Bucky Barnes in a suit leaning against the railing caused a twist in your heart and an emptiness in the pit of your stomach.

“Did you come for air too?”

You didn't know if it was his super-soldier serum or something similar to yours, but it always amazed you that he knew when you were around. It also made your nerves calm a bit as you approached the railing.

“Yeah, they had me without a break today.”

Bucky let out a laugh, openly, and amidst your glassy-eyed stare from drinking, you couldn't take your eyes off him. You couldn't when he was regaling you with such an exquisite sight and such a harmonious sound. You didn't know how you had been able to spend so much time hating him. Or pretending you did. Hate is such a strong word, it shouldn't be used so casually.

“I'm glad you're enjoying yourself, really. You look more radiant,” he kept his gaze on yours, not wiping the smile from his face.

“How long have you been here?”

“I was just about to leave. I guess I was lucky I decided to stay a little longer.”

You arched an eyebrow at him with a half smile, which was answered with one of his own.

“I couldn't blame you,” you commented, averting your gaze to take in the incredible panoramic view you had of much of the city from where you stood. You had both worlds, the vast wilderness and the concrete jungle, “It's a beautiful view.”

“Indeed,” you heard him so close you didn't have to move much to know he was still looking at you.

With a hot face, you shook your head.

“You're very flirtatious, Barnes, I don't think I would've guessed.”

“You have no idea what I'm like, doll, you've got a long way to go,” his voice sounded a little deeper than usual and you blamed the cold for the shiver that ran through your body.

“Are you assuming I want to walk it?” you turned to see him with a falsely confused, playful look.

“I'll take my chances,” he gave you a beautiful cocked smile without taking his light eyes away from yours.

“Careful with that. You could end up walking alone,” you looked back out over the city, being all too aware of his gaze roaming the silhouette of your face.

“I have a good feeling. The wind is on my side.”

You let out a laugh inevitably, it was probably because of nerves or because he was building something around both of you that you couldn't control. And maybe that didn't bother you too much. It would be nice to let someone else carry the rope once in a while… wouldn't it?

“Are you implying something?”

You heard him sigh before taking the same position you had, facing the city.

“I guess I can't hide my curiosity,” he took a moment before speaking again. “You know we have a pending conversation.”

“Mhm,” you hummed, feeling the thrill of anticipation course through your body from head to toe. It seemed you weren't the only one who had waited too long for that.

“Do you have something to tell me?”

You turned your head, meeting his profile. The way the city shone in his eyes was magical and you didn't want to focus on anything else but that. Or on the way his eyebrows moved almost imperceptibly under your watchful gaze. Or the relief of his red lips that were almost…

“I think we should start slow.”

Liar.

Bucky turned his head, taking you almost by surprise. His blue eyes looked amused.

“So you agree that we should start?”

“Yes,” you shook your head in sync, his gaze causing you to be as unsettled as possible. “But we'll have to start from scratch.”

“I don't think I can control myself for that long,” Bucky almost whispered, his voice as low as you'd ever heard it before. He wasn't going to let you have it any easier.

“You'll have to learn to do it.”

But you wouldn't give up your arm so easily either. He could continue to provoke you all he wanted, but you'd take things at your own pace.

“You can bet on it,” his face was closer than before, you could almost touch his nose if you moved a little, “but I don't think it would be that easy for you.”

“Do you think I have no self-control? Me?” you frowned at him, but kept your expression warm. The man in front of you only laughed, creating distance between the two of you. A cold air swept over you from where he had been.

“I guess time will tell who will give up first.”

“And it won't be me.”

“Mmm,” Bucky hummed in reproach, shaking his head. “You're very stubborn.”

“There's still a lot you have to learn from me, darling.”

The nickname left your lips unconsciously, but that only made the corners of his lips lift even more. His face looked brighter than before if that was possible. You wanted to take it back, but you'd better think twice. A different, more pleasant and comfortable feeling settled in your chest and your heart seemed to beat to a different rhythm.

“Well, now that we've finally come to an agreement…”

“Halfway,” you interrupted him, rolling your eyes.

“We can start now.”

His eyes on yours felt too meticulous at that moment.

“Now?”

“Yes,” Bucky shrugged. “I can take you dancing right now, shouldn't I take the opportunity?”

You almost choked on your own words. You wanted to deny yourself for a moment, maybe it wasn't true that you were ready and able to safely embrace these new feelings he was generating in you. Maybe you really didn't feel as safe as you thought you did…

But when Bucky extended his hand towards you, with that lopsided smile and sparkling eyes, any negative thoughts disappeared from your head in the blink of an eye. You were afraid of what you two might turn out to be, yes, it was true, but you couldn't spend the rest of your life living like this. Not when already, without even having started, you knew that there would be no other place in the world you wanted to be, nor where you felt as safe as that moment.

When you took his hand securely, you never wanted to let go again, much less if you could continue to see that expression of happiness on Bucky's face. You moved beside him as if you had done it all your life before that moment, and in the life before that.

His fingers intertwined with yours and you felt like you closed a promise in that moment.

“You know, I'm not much of a dancer,” you commented to him as you approached the stairs.

“Don't worry. We have plenty of time for you to learn,” Bucky gave you a reassuring squeeze to accompany his words. “We're just getting started.”

You hoped to enjoy that night as much as you hoped to enjoy all the time you had with him, whatever it was. Despite the fear, you would take him with open arms. It was better that than nothing at all.

Anyway, you were already realizing that that wasn't something you were going to think about very often. Bucky said it himself, you were just getting started.

-

Taglist: @rabbitrabbit12321 @funkybarnes @pono-pura-vida @unaxv @buckybarnessimpp @madi-is-kinda-lame @saint-marvel @trixiekaulitz @ziawbarnes @immortalfangirl @dnovastark

[i-yap]

I have a Dick Grayson request!

I don't know if you do vigilante s/o but I was wondering if you did could you write how he would react when he finds out that the crazy person jumping off buildings with his alter ego is also his gn s/o? I always find the different takes on the reader finding out about Nightwing but I really want to know what you think his reaction would be?Anyways, this might not be something you'll write but I just figured I'd ask

Lots of love and admiration for you and your works

❤️

A compliment and a Dick grayson ask??omg made my day ( I promise he isn't my favorite I love them all equally)

Ive never really written vigilante reader..or even imagined one but I can try

Dick Grayson x vigilante!s/o

s/n- supername

"There's an armed robbery at the children's hospital on 34th" reported Tim onto the batcom.

"I can get there in 5" replied Dick.

"Take hood with you, he's on 39th " Ordered Batman

"I don't need a babysitter..especially not hood"

"HAHA, Ill be there as soon as I'm done beating up this creep who was cornering pretty girls" Jason says cheekily.

"wait ..I dont think i need you here hood, or even I'm needed..S/n got here first. She's tying up the perps as we speak"

"Unmask her Nightwing, even I couldnt figure out her identity and she has been spotted in too many crimes around gotham" said Oracle

"You can't passible think THE s/n is a criminal" tim replied shocked

"Haha timmy has a thing for s/n just cause she was caught buying rock shirts from the shady stores he loves" Jason teases

" NO REAL NAMES ON THE COMS JASON, also Oracle is right. Best to be precautionary" states Batman.

Nightwing approaches s/n. "OH JEEZ, hi your scared me haha. Not that you're scary. You're really hot , I mean your partner probably finds you hot but not me. I'm just random vigilante...Uh anyways Ive called the police they're on their way so I think my work here is done!" You say hurriedly after spotting your boyf-nightwing approaching you.

"Well good work here s/n. But I actually had to speak to you alone. " "Me? why??"

"I need you to unmask yourself. Batman's orders . You cant trust me, you know I'm one of the good guys and we have been on multiple cases together. Plus you are kind of in my city"

" Well I- dick listen." "How do you -" You take off your mask to reveal yourself.

"I was about to tell you dickie..please don't be mad" "MAD? ME? MY SWEETHEART IS A CRIME FIGHTING ASS KICKING SUPERHERO! I KNEW YOU WERE TOO STRONG TO BE A BARISTA!. I mean I do wish you told me before" "I just didn't know how you would take it. You always talked about how much you loved our domestic intimacy and simplicity in our relationship and i-" Dick takes your hands in his "We can still have that baby, just because you are a superhero doesn't change anything. Youre still the best thing that ever happened to me and now we can even spend more time together as our alter ego. We would be a great power couple!" Says dick, pulling you into a passionate kiss.

"EW EW THE ROMANTIC SPEECH WAS GROSS BUT KISSING NOISES?" Yells jason into the coms

" NO DICK HOW COULD YOU, MY SUPERCRUSH MAN" Cries out tim

"shit i forgot to turn off my comms" whines dick

"NO REAL NAMES ON THE COMS !" Orders Bataman

"Bring her to the manor once you have discussed the - the revelation. There is much to talk about" Says Batman.

"I'm Surprised Y/n is even real" Joins in Damian.

"WHY WOULD I LIE ABOUT HAVING A PARTNER" yells Nightwing into the comms while you try to muffle your laugh.

"Well, I am no one to comment on your mental state NightWing, But it is questionable"

You pull away Dick from the comms before they all start bickering- and giving bruce a headache. Sure there was a lot to discuss but dick is the best batboy to be a vigilante partner to. He would be understanding and non restrictive and the perfect partner in fight. Communication is easy with him and he trusts you and gives you your space to be yourself. After all, its all these things that make him love you for you.

sorry if there is anything offensive i don't usually write gn!reader cuz I'm a cis female and I don't proof read. Also english is not my first language. Lmk if there's anything offensive and ill change it.

[myunghology]

hello, i love tsukasa suou and you love tsukasa suou what if i request for hcs for tsukasa crushing on someone who likes him back after experiencing an unrequited love? ((Definitely not talking about your floating series)) Anyways thank you and have a nice day~!

summary head canons for crushing! tsukasa. read ask for more details <3

pairings tsukasa suou x gn reader

tw none!!

a/n chat i love tsukasa suou!! also floating timeline!! tsukasas old crush is now leo's s/o 🥲🥲 but ofc you don't have to read the whole smau to understand this <3

hayst how do i even explain this?? this poor baby would just be finished healing from his old crush, when he saw you walking down the halls of yumenosaki.

other knights could see how much he adored you just because of his eyes, the way it would immediately soften once his stares landed on you.

as a lesson from his old crush, he avoided you. it was already obvious that tsukasa was still affected by what happened. just a happy crush— that's all it i-

@rizztsu_kumaz : why the fuck are you stalking their parents on facebook

@tsuk4s4_suou : LISTEN TO ME. listen.

he's either in denial, or is doing anything and everything in his power to make a move. from adjusting his classes to be in the same class with you to literally fullblown asking you out.

GENTLEMAN!!! offers to help you with everything and anything, even if its just carrying your bag, he'll do it just for you! he's down bad can you tell?

once he sees you returning his affection, he's going to go crazy (mentally, don't worry) also especially adores it whenever you run your friends fingers through his hair.

starts rambling to knights about it once more, and knights being excited about his new little crush for him and for you!! but in this case it's a bit obvious to them that you like him back. unfortunately tsukasa does not see that ummm..

his heart starts beating out of his chest whenever you smile at him, even if too just locked eyes for a glance. a very obvious blush creeping on to his face, it makes you giggle.

when he confesses— it's really very sudden. he has it all planned out, until he's standing right in front of you in the place where he asked you two to meet.

“i really like you, more than just a friend!" ?????

VERY surprised and emotional once he realizes you like him back, and gives you one of the most comforting hugs that has ever been given to you.

GREENEST FLAG EVER, would have no problem setting up boundaries, or even court you first before properly being your boyfriend.

tsukasa's the type of boyfriend to make you a playlist on spotify, write you proper love letters, take you out to frequent dates, and most importantly, be there for when you need him the most.

clingy, very clingy. you wish you could say you're shocked but at this point, i think we all know he's a little bit needy in the inside just for your affection and love for him ;(

after a long day, he always finds himself in your arms and his face practically buried into your chest as you comb his hair with your fingers— just how he likes it.

rich boyfriend, has an issue with spending all his allowance and his savings from working with knights on you. but of course he spends it responsibility!

when it comes to you though? uhhh.. not really that responsible. you want something? use his card. you're asking for his card to buy something? which one do you want to use? (he literally owns a rolex wtf.. it's so expensive??)

YEAHH.. but you're not that mean. the only time you ask for something is probably on your birthday if ever— only if he asks you. but its definitely going to be expensive.

and he says as an excuse, HE SAYS AND I QUOTE: "because you only deserve the best."

side eye.. okay mister smooth talker i see you???

myunghology: 🦭🦭🦭

[fandomworld9728]

Oops... (Angel Dust/Lucifer)

(Requested by @buuteer) (AppleDust hidden relationship getting found out) (Hope this is okay. I wasn't really sure how to go about it and ran with this idea when it popped into my head)

(Warning! This takes place during episode 6 of Hazbin Hotel! So not only spoilers but trigger warning for Val being his usual dickhead, possessive, violent self!) (Also, protective Lucifer and Alastor as a bonus!)

"You forget who you're talking to. I own you."

The pink chains connecting Angel to the Overlord were yanked, pulling him close to him. "Yeah. You do. In the studio, and you can do anything you want to me in there, just like our deal says. But out here? I get to do what I want. So once again. Fuck off-"

Before Angel could finish, the moth demon had back handed him, sending him and Niffty to the floor. Mouth now bleeding. It had felt good to finally stand up to the man even with the repercussions. He wasn't about to let the creep mess with his friends. Especially not after what had happened that day with Charlie.

"Enjoy the rest of your night, bitch, because I'm going to enjoy making you pay for it tomorrow."

A flash of light bright light mixed with an eerie green filled the place, a summoning circle now between Angel Dust and Valentino to keep them separated. "What the fuck is this?"

Hushed whispers came from the sinners arounds them as Lucifer stepped out of the circle and walked slowly towards the moth demon, Alastor, who had accidentally got caught up in this, stayed put scanning over the people of the hotel. More importantly, over the two souls that he owned.

"That is a good question. What is all this?"

"Oh. Fuck. No, wait. Luci don't."

"Luci? Angel sweetie, have you been fucking our dear King and keeping it from me?"

Fuck. "Val listen-"

"Wow. You're that possessive that you need to know all of his clients when you never bothered to ask in the first place? That's how it started out and now it's much more than that. I've tried to stay out of this because that's what Angel wanted. However, this is the second time you've struck him since we've been together."

To say that Lucifer was pissed was an understatement. The day that Angel came to him after a long day of work to relieve some stress and was sporting a black eye, he was ready to go and teach that Overlord how to properly treat the souls under his care. But he was asked to stay out of it. Was reassured that Angel wanted to get out of this and handle it on his own. Lucifer only backed off when he was promised that the next time something like that or worse happened that he had permission to break the guy's face in.

"Ugh, I'm getting an ache in my neck. You're too goddamn tall. How about you come down to my height?!"

Seeing this side of Lucifer did something to Angel. Small, beautiful, powerful, Lucifer. The King of Hell. Defending him like this. The spider demon couldn't help but feel so loved and cared for.

"Holy shit, Angie. You're datin' the King of Hell and didn't tell me?" Cherri asked, helping her best friend up.

"I'll uh... explain later. Oh shit. Where's Niff?"

"Our dear Niffty was involved in this?" And now Alastor was going to join in the beating. Angel wasn't going to complain. The guy had it coming for a long time.

~

Landing on her butt in the hotel's foyer after Adam forcefully sent them back through a portal, Charlie jumped up and ran over to the group sitting and tending to Angel. Her dad was wiping the blood from his lips to make it easier to heal while Alastor, surprisingly enough, was holding Niffty protectively.

"Dad! You've been dating Angel Dust?! Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't either of you tell me? When did it happen? For how long?" A long string of rushed out questions tumbled from her mouth before Vaggie lightly took her by the shoulders and made her sit down.

"Babe. Give them a chance to answer."

"Wait.... how did you find out? This came out while you were in Heaven."

"Oh. Well. We were watching you guys to prove to Sera and the court that redemption could be possible. Uh... Adam was not happy when he found out... but the rest of the court was pleasantly surprised at how you acted and handled the situation! So, Sera would love for you to join us for our rescheduled meeting."

"Of course she does."

"Hey. It's alright baby. I'll join ya if it'll make ya feel better." It felt good to have their relationship out and in the open now. He should have listened to Lucifer before about just being open about it since the beginning.

[lillie98]

An excerpt from a Fic I wrote a while ago centering on Autistic!Mike. I wrote it from my perspective as a late-diagnosed female who found euphoria and purpose from this one little word. I hope you take the time to read it and understand the life-changing power of diagnosis. Autism is not a tragedy. Rather, it is a difference in the Human Condition that deserves celebration.

"Hey…Will, I almost forgot. I need to tell you something important". Will immediately flinches awake and startles, scanning the room for threats.

"What? Is something wrong? Are you okay?"

"No, nothing's wrong," Mike assures him, running his hand down Will's cheek. Embarrassment and shame course through him. He wishes Will’s nervous system didn’t overreact this way. He speaks quietly and clearly, emphasizing his words. "I'm okay. We’re safe.” Will leans into Mike’s touch and anchors himself in the present. He is safe, Mike is safe, and they are together. His eyes slip closed as he takes a few steadying breaths. He then shifts to his side to see Mike better, turning on the small lamp on the nightstand and propping himself up on his elbow. Mike looks anxious. Tears prick the corners of his eyes as he stares at the ceiling. Will places his hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder.

"Hey, whatever it is, you can tell me, okay?” he reassures Mike. “I won't be mad. We'll work through it together. You know how much I love you.” Will's words ease Mike's anxiety. Here goes nothing.

"I talk to Robin a lot–just like you–but we don't just talk about boyfriends. We…we talk about…other things, too.”

"What kinds of other things?" Will probes. Mike swallows hard.

"We…we talk about…fuck, this is tough….about my…my brain.” He can't believe he said it. Will is even more confused. His brain? What about his brain? The last time he checked, Mike's brain was perfect. Why does this involve Robin? Mike cannot make eye contact. Will eyes stare directly into his soul. If he looks back, he will lose his sanity. His hands white knuckle the sheets–anything to ground himself.

"My brain is…different from most people's.” Mike’s not sure how to explain this without sounding completely insane. “I have difficulty connecting with people and holding on to relationships. I'm blunt and straightforward, and people think I'm rude. That's why making friends is hard for me. People don't understand how to interact with me.” The words are slow and halted, forced out like a reluctant child. Will hangs on every one. He has yet to see the whole picture but will keep listening until he does. Mike continues as bile creeps into his throat.

"I also struggle with change. I need routine and structure; it keeps me safe. When that structure changes, it takes me longer to adjust. Like when you and El moved away, or Max joined our Party.” Words come faster now. He’s held this pain inside for too long. “I don't understand why things change and how everyone moves on while I'm stuck in this perpetual loop. I get scared that everything will change because one thing is changing, and it’s too much to handle. I don't want to be hostile, but my brain tells me to protect myself. Routines also help me not feel overwhelmed by the world. Everything is loud…and bright…and fast. It's terrifying.” Tears spill out, emotions too much to contain. “If I stick to my routine, some of that stuff fades into the background. But as soon as it changes, that all comes rushing back in. My body shuts down, and I can’t stop it. I lose control, and it's scary, Will. It's…It's so scary!"

Mike breaks down and rolls into his boyfriend’s waiting arms. Will is dumbfounded. He had no idea. How has Mike survived this long? He rubs deep circles into Mike’s back, attempting to ground him. He wishes Mike had told him sooner. He would have helped him through it, been there for him when it was all too much. How did he miss it? Something so central to Mike's being unknown to the people he loves most. Will's mind drifts back to their childhoods when Mike would fall apart on the floor. Will would hold and rock him until he calmed down–not dissimilarly to what he did last week at the hospital. Then it clicks. Mike is describing those moments. Nights spent on the kitchen floor crying over a scratchy shirt tag or "wrong foods" touching. He got angry because Will canceled plans they made a week ago, even though his PTSD flared up and he was too weak to go out. His head swirles with examples, and each one makes more sense than the last. He holds Mike's face, wiping tears with his thumbs.

"Mike, I understand. I see how scary those moments are for you. I may not feel what you feel, but I see your pain, and that’s enough. You are not broken, and there is nothing wrong with you. Do you understand me?" Mike tearfully nods. "I love you so much, and I am honored that you feel safe enough to share this part of yourself with me. I will always be here to help you, just like you help me. We need each other, and I am so thankful to have you in my life. I do have a question, though. Is there a name for this, and why do you discuss it with Robin? Isn't that something a doctor tells you?"

Mike laughs at Will's innocent questions. "You should talk about it with a doctor, but most don't know much about it. It's called autism, and I talk about it with Robin because she has it, too. She's the one who saw it in me. The first time she explained it…I cried, Will. I had never heard a word describe me so perfectly.” As he remembers the moment, new tears form, and a smile radiates through his body. “It was like…I had a missing piece, and Robin found it. She unlocked me. I finally have permission to be myself. All of these struggles, all of this pain, it's real. It has a name. I've never felt this way, and I want you to know so you can feel it, too. I love you so much, Will.” Autism. Will rolls the word around in his mind. He's never heard it before, but it makes sense. It explains Mike. His bluntness, his temper, his everything. He pulls Mike close and hugs him tightly, tears mingling in their embrace as they celebrate the moment. It is not sad. Instead, it is euphoric.

[snippydippy]

~Heart of Gold~

An "excerpt" of a much larger Fortnite story I'd love to write in it's entirety. Midas has something he needs Montague to know.

Quick shout out to @corvidazed & @stuffule for encouraging me to finish this after losing it to a power outage the first time. Love you guys! <3

Midas paced the floor in Montague's office, waiting for the man to finish his meeting with Oscar and Nisha so the two of them could speak. The tightness in his chest and buzz in his mind were almost as disturbing to him as the realization of his feelings for the Diamond Thief in the first place. Despite living a very long life, Midas had never felt quite like this before. He'd never been so entirely stricken by love. At least not that he could remember, and certainly not in this way that so perfectly fit the way people described it. He had been in many relationships, and had cared deeply for those involved, but not like this. Never once had he counted his footsteps for nerves while preparing to lay himself bare to anyone. Midas had been on the receiving end of such confessions a handful of times. For better or worse.

He hated this. He hated the spark of doubt that seemed to be trying to burn a whole in the back of his mind. It wasn't like himself to feel nervous. At the absolute least, this aggravating fear of rejection gave him some reassurance that his feelings for Montague must have been real. Not that there was much doubt in that regard at this point, he'd certainly spent enough sleepless nights ruminating on his emotions before deciding it was necessary to declare them.

Regardless of the outcome, he'd finally be able to move on from these childish feelings. He'd be able to stow the memories of the kiss they'd shared that constantly ran through his mind. He could put to rest the way he longed for more every time Montague made eye contact with him, touched his shoulder to get his attention, or when the ghost of a smile appeared on his lips before he remembered to be annoyed by flirtatious remarks.

Midas was thinking of that smile when he heard the door open and close behind the man who entered. The two exchanged a nod before Montague made his way behind his desk. He didn't sit, instead standing and looking over the map of the island displayed on its digital surface. He tapped at various points of interest to leave red pings.

"I'm afraid we don't have much time before we need to meet with Jones and the Banana. I'll need you there to make sure things go smoothly." He said, not looking up, "What did you need to discuss with me?"

Knowing he had to be quick about this did nothing to settle the hammering in his chest. Midas clenched his fists behind his back, willing himself to stop being ridiculous. He had very little reason to think Montague would refute him. And even if he did, oh well. It would be settled either way, and he would not walk away from this like some spurned teenager.

Midas took a step towards the desk, also looking down at the map. He spoke in a leveled voice, "I wanted to talk about us."

"Us?" Montague looked up, meeting Midas' neutral expression with mild annoyance before he sighed and raised an exasperated hand to rub his eyes, "Midas, we have talked about 'us'. I've already told you I cannot afford to be distracted--"

"I know what you said." Midas replied, not allowing anything other than resolve to creep into his tone, "I don't wish to talk about us in the context of a fling. I'm not suggesting we continue in the same vein as the…encounter, we had before."

"Encounter. That is one way to describe it." Montague huffed before he came around to the other side of the desk and stood beside Midas, "Fling or otherwise, I cannot prioritize a relationship. We do not have time for this."

Midas turned his body to face him, and a beat of silence passed between them as he thought about his next words. Montague went to speak again, but before he could say anything likely to reiterate him as a distraction, Midas let his shoulders relax (despite the vice grip he held on his wrist behind his back).

He spoke softly, calmly, "I love you, Montague."

Montague blinked, standing stiff, still and silent. The seconds that passed counted by the thudding of Midas' heart in his ears.

"You…" Montague finally let out a humorless type of scoff, "You what?"

A laugh of any kind was not the reaction Midas had wanted, but he supposed it could have been going worse. He wasn't being yelled or swung at, insulted, or told to vacate his office immediately. He took a step forward, closing the gap between them a fraction, but not breaching personal space just yet. Midas took pleased notice of how the other man did not step away. He still spoke softly, but with purpose, "I love you. I have taken time to try and understand what it is you stir in me, and I've realized it is my heart. You are my heart."

"Midas." The expression on Montague's face was difficult to read. Mostly, he looked surprised, if not a bit confused. However, the slight furrow of his brow while he looked off to his desk read to Midas like…sadness, of a kind. Another reaction he hadn't wanted. He watched as the other man sighed and brought a hand up to run it through hair that Midas yearned to feel nestled against his neck every night from now on, "I don't know what to say."

"Say the truth." Midas did reach out then, taking another small step forward to place golden hands over the other's waist. Montague said nothing, laying his own tentative hands on the other's arms. No matter how much all of these feelings perturbed him originally, the Golden King could do nothing to stop how they consumed him in this moment. He allowed a touch of the intensity he was feeling to seep into his tone, "Tell me you love me too."

Montague's eyes flicked about Midas' face before uncharacteristically casting down to the floor. This wasn't going exactly the way Midas had wanted, but he could fix it. He could convince Montague his feelings were true. There was no longer a spark of doubt in his mind, Midas needed Montague to reciprocate. Based on his behavior while they were alone together up until this point, he was certain he would.

"Or don't." Midas said, hesitating.

Montague swallowed and finally met his eyes. What Midas saw in them was so, complicated. Feelings almost as different as the color of his irises themselves. Midas moved in closer, their bodies together as his hands slipped around to the small of the other man's back. He continued, whispering as if saying it at a normal volume would be too convincing, "Say the words. Say that you don't want this. That you don't want me, and I will drop this forever. We will never speak of this again, I will forget, and we will be partners in business only. But…I need to hear you say it. If you can't, I will continue to love you until the day I truly die."

Montague remained silent, his body relaxing in the King's arms, eyes closing, and his hands languidly sliding up to Midas' shoulders.

A moment went by like this, and Midas' felt a relief--an elation, wash over him. Were it not for the armor he wore, Midas would believe the steady pounding of his heart could've been felt through his chest against Montague's. It wasn't the verbal affirmative he'd been hoping for, but he'd take an inability to reject him as an approval of sorts. With this, Midas knew Montague wanted him for something, and this delighted him. He smiled and pressed in closer still, their lips ghosting together as he whispered, "Monty--"

"I don't want you."

The words were as sharp as the diamonds Montague could coat himself in. Loud and clear, and yet they struck Midas dumb anyway. The hard rhythm of his heart seemed to cease entirely as his body froze. He didn't have any time to process before Montague spoke again, his tone as clear and calm as Midas' confession.

"I don't love you, Midas."

Midas pulled back just enough to look into Montague's eyes when he opened them. What he saw before was replaced entirely by the same steely gaze he'd seen the thief use in his business dealings. Something inside the King ruptured. The pain that came with it sending a shock through his limbs, numbing his fingers. A tremble might have started through him if he had any less control over himself.

Montague must have seen a shift in his expression, because he gently pushed back on the other's shoulders to replace some of the gap between them. Midas fought against the instinct that made his fingers twitch with the desire to hold Montague as close as he wanted to. Hands again settled on his waist, Midas desperately searched Montague's face for anything he could use to salvage this. He raked over his features for any sign of doubt or regret. He found nothing.

Midas closed his eyes and took in a long inhale to try and calm the raging storm brewing in his mind. He then stepped back, straightened, and his hands retreated back behind him. When he exhaled and opened his eyes again, Montague was mirroring his stance.

"Alright." Midas said plainly. Montague raised a brow at him, but he only gave a placid smile in return. He would not allow any of what he was feeling to show through. He could not. He extended his gilded mechanical hand to the other, "Partners it is then."

Montague studied the hand extended to him, and then the man behind it. Midas would later wonder if the other man's expression was as impossible to read as it seemed, or if he himself was simply too bereft in emotion to glean anything at all. The relief he felt when Montague did finally shake his hand was abysmal. His fingers were still numb when they let go, the thudding of his heart evidently serving no purpose but a futile attempt at mending itself in the moment.

"As it has been, call me whenever you need. I will be by your side at a moments notice." Midas spoke steadily. Montague nodded curtly before moving back around the desk, eyes cast to the map once more.

It took everything Midas had just to will himself to move, and even then he only managed to turn his head to look at the other, "I'm afraid my first act as solely your business partner will be to disappoint. I won't be able to attend the meeting with Peely and Jones."

Montague looked up at him, annoyance painfully clear on his features. Midas continued, "They have already agreed to aid us against any lingering gods. I'm sure everything will go fine in my absence." He finished before heading for the door.

"Midas, wait!" Montague called sharply, "Where are you going? I need you for this."

Midas stopped with his real hand gripping the door handle. He looked back with the same calm smile, "Montague. I told you I will move on from this, and I will. I did not say it would be easy."

There was a moment of silence, Midas did not bother trying to read the other's expression, "I need time."

"How much time?"

The question sent a flash of annoyance over Midas that quickly muddled together with everything else. How was he to know when he'd feel normal again? This was the first time he'd have to contend with heart break of this kind. And it had only just shattered, "Not long. A couple days."

"Fine." Montague said before his expression fell into something the King deeply resented, "I'm sorry, Midas."

Hearing this only compounded everything. Instead of allowing himself to boil over, Midas let out a single laugh, "You have nothing to apologize for. I asked for the truth."

Montague's eyes fell away from him. Midas opened the door then, not looking over his shoulder to say, "Don't pity me, Montague. It doesn't suite either of us."

He did not close the door behind him, a layer of gold having bloomed over the brass and wood.

[biteofcherry]

Since we talked about mob romance...

It doesn't matter that you're well into your thirties, once a mob boss daughter, always a mob boss daughter. And now your dad has decided that you're going to go stay with some extended family and friends in another country. It so happens they have a son that is around the same age as you, also unmarried.

But one thing your dad is a sucker for is true love. If you find someone to fake true love with, he'd never ship you off. You have some candidates in mind.

Rival’s son Curtis: Curtis and you have run into each other over the years and during your wild youth there was a brief and intense romance that didn't lead anywhere, both of you needing to rebel against your families. But one thing you know is that Curtis has your back if the creeps at the club don't understand the word no and a romance between the two of you would get his dad off his back too.

Bodyguard Lloyd: After your wild youth, your dad assigned Lloyd to you. But Lloyd always has his own agenda when it comes to things. Sure, he won't hesitate to kill anyone who threatens you, but he'll also look away when you sneak out because he knows you'll reward him. Acting as your lover would give him many benefits.

Cook Steve: You actually cried when the old cook retired. After many trials, your dad finally settled on Steve two years ago. You liked being in the kitchen with the old cook, she was always nice to you and would sneak you treats. Now you like hanging out in the kitchen for a different kind of treat. Steve is not only easy on the eyes but also easy to talk to, even if your conversations have mostly revolved around food.

Or, do you one day accidentally find a picture of the unmarried son and find out he's actually really handsome and his name appears to be Bucky.

You know I'm all about love, arranger marriage, forced relationship and all of the thrill for Readers over 30! ❤️😎

You gave me Steve here as an option and it's a well known fact I tend to choose him almost all the time, but I'm not gonna lie - I got so hooked up on Curtis 👀

The idea of an old flame, potentially a first kind of hot, messy romance that was the forbidden fruit and also an introduction to all sorts of desires; now getting a chance of reigniting in a new way 🫠

And what if Curtis was your first? The one to pop your cherry, so he always kinda owned you in that primal way 😳

Maybe it's an idea that comes spontaneously to your head as you venture into one of the clubs on the supposedly neutral ground, where the rivaling mafia's men can come as well. Your and Curtis' eyes meet and the pull is strong. So you blurt out your idea (extra courage coming from half a bottle of Martini), how this would spare you from marrying someone unknown on the other side of the ocean, but also serve as a brilliant truce between your families. It would strengthen both your mafias' power against other rising forces and you know as much as your father isn't fond of Everett's family, he respects them. Especially respects the smart, if brutal, heir - Curtis.

And you know the fucking will be soooo goood 🥵