#i don't think i realized that some people think it's to maintain an air of availability

[dollfacefantasy]

SYMPATHY FOR THE DEVIL ♡

pairing: homelander x fem!reader

summary: homelander has taken an interest in you, vought's new intern. no matter how you look at it, as a good or bad thing, it ends the same way: him getting what he wants.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, dubcon, p in v, oral (m receiving), body worship, sir kink, obsessive behavior, manipulation/coercion, age gap (reader in early 20s)

wc: 7.7k (oops lol)

a/n: hehe. never thought i would write for this man but it was pretty fun :) comm for my sweet beloved @gor3-hound love you so very much mwah mwah <33

At the junction of the V-shaped table, Homelander sat. With his back to the skyline and his gloved hands folded in front of him, he held the posture of a statue. Ashley had been rambling on and on and fucking on for the past five minutes about shit he couldn't care less about. Her nasally voice bounced off the tile floors and painted ceiling, ricocheting around him like a rogue bullet. Only his impregnable skin didn't protect him from the discomfort of this situation.

It was moments like these that really made him regret killing Stillwell.

That woman knew how to handle things. As manipulative as she could be, at least she wasn't absolutely insufferable. How could Stan let Ashley replace her? She was a poor excuse of just about everything. Absolutely spineless, unintelligent, reactionary, and opportunistic. He really couldn't picture any person on this Earth genuinely liking her.

However in the midst of his mental complaints, he realized that the annoying sound of her speaking was directed at him. All the other stares in the room were zeroed in on him too. A-Train observed in cautious silence. Noir's goggles reflected Homelander's own image right back at him. Maeve judged with a sideways glance. And Starlight prepared for the worst.

He tore his own bright blue eyes from the door opposite the table and refocused them on Ashley. They scanned over her thinning ginger locks down to her gaudy outfit - a piss poor attempt at imitating power.

"What?" he asked, his voice cutting through the air with a force similar to one of Maeve's swords.

Ashley blinked in return. Fear swirled in her wide eyes. She tried to maintain that empowered appearance she so desperately wished was real, but he could see the innate urge to cower bubbling within her.

"Was that lineup for the funeral ok with you, Homelander? A-Train and Noir open, Starlight sings, and then you close?" she repeated.

Now it was his turn to blink. Like he could actually give a shit about the order of segments for Translucent's funeral. He swallowed hard. While she projected a mirage of power, he had to do the same with level-headedness.

"That's fine, Ashley. Have those two go first, and Starlight can follow up with Amazing Grace or whatever shitty hymns they teach in that hick town she's from, and then I can finish us out," he responded.

He could see how her knuckles were going white around the edge of her clipboard. She gripped it for comfort, as if that could save her from his potential wrath. It only irritated him more. If he wanted her dead, he would turn her to ashes where she stood. How hard she braced herself in advance wouldn't matter in the slightest. But people could be so foolish in moments of terror.

"Well speaking of that," she said before clearing her throat, an attempt at a natural transition, "We were trying to decide what song she would sing. Maybe one of our originals? Or do you think it would be more tasteful to go with something from an outside source?"

Gritting his teeth, he buried the urge to unleash the bright beams of red from his sockets. His hands slid off one another and pressed down onto the cool table.

"Do you really need me to decide what song is going to send Translucent to the grave?" he replied, "I don't care what you play, and no one else attending will either. They'll be focused on working up some tears for the useless dipshit they never had the displeasure of knowing. Instead of trying to gain their approval, we should be working on finding the next member of the Seven who can replace him. There's no use dwelling on the past. We need to be preparing for the future."

He paused to let his words permeate the room, giving everyone a chance to absorb the sentiment and adapt accordingly. With his pupils still trained on Ashley, he planned on continuing his tirade, but his train of thought came to an abrupt halt.

Soft pitter-patters of footsteps clacked down the hall outside this room. They sounded in a delicate rhythm, only audible to him. As they grew louder, he caught the scent of the source too. Airy and light. A stark contrast to the brash perfume Ashley doused herself in.

The doors at the front of the room slid apart to reveal you.

You stood there for a moment. The realization that you'd interrupted something was visible in your eyes. The small spheres cast down as you wobbled in like a fawn that sensed wolves watching from nearby.

Ashley turned to face you, a glower already set on her features. The resentment she held for everyone else in this building awoke from its usual dormant slumber because there was finally someone weaker she could take it out on.

Once you reached her, your hand rose and gave her a thin stack of papers. 

"I'm sorry for interrupting. It's a memo from 82. They made it sound urgent," you explained, everything about your temperament meek and timid.

After a brief pause to let you marinate in the few moments before your inevitable humiliation, she snatched the papers from you. Her eyes roamed over the page with disinterest. Even if the information conveyed by the small black letters was important, he doubted she would give it any reaction. She wanted to lash out, and she was going to, whether it was justified or not.

"They couldn't have emailed me this?" she snapped, as if that was something you could control.

"I don't know. I'm sorry. I'll check next time," you offered.

"You better or you'll run out of next times," she threatened, "Incompetence like this won't fly here. You're in the big leagues now, so act like it. Think before you do something instead of taking commands like a lap dog."

"I'm sorry," you replied, ducking your head again.

"Don't be sorry, just do better," she commanded.

"I will," you agreed.

"Good. Just get out of here now. Go pick up my lunch," she told you.

His lips curled into a scowl as he watched the scene play out. It was pathetic - not you, but Ashley. He hated seeing the fucking smirk on her face as you walked away. She had nothing to be smug about. She was nothing more than a feral coyote going after the scraps the other predators didn't take.

To make matters worse, when she returned her attention to the group at the table, she saw the look on his face. She saw the disdain, but instead of striking regret into her, it only deepened her sense of self-satisfaction.

She thought the look was for you. That he was disgusted with your mistake. Annoyed with your intrusion.

He couldn't have that. Not when that assumption was the farthest thing from the truth. Honestly, he didn't know if he was even capable of feeling such ire towards you. Not his precious little fawn.

Rising from his seat, his glare remained on Ashley. She did show a little fear then.

"You know, I don't have all day, Ashley. I'll open Translucent's funeral, Starlight will follow up with a song, and that will be it. A-Train and Noir can have the day off, because let's be honest, nobody will give shit either way," he mocked.

"But, sir-" she said, clearly confused by his sudden impending departure.

"I have more important things to deal with. If you need anything else, I'm sure one of the others can help you," he dismissed.

With that, he stepped back from the table and began heading to the doors. He hoped if he was fast enough he could still catch you. Even in a building as sleek and modern as this one, the elevators could be quite slow.

Walking out into the hall, his head swiveled in the direction you would have gone. For once, his own portrait didn't catch his eye. He didn't even think about stopping by Stillwell's office to reminisce. Instead, he just headed down towards the elevator. His red boots thudded across smooth tile in rapid succession, covering the path you'd just taken.

Finally, after a few feet, he spotted you. Bottom lip pulled between your teeth. Eyes glossy with embarrassment. Tip of your polished shoe tapping against the ground. You startled when his voice boomed across the space, calling out your name. So cute.

You looked at him with fear in your eyes, but disgust didn't fester in the pit of his stomach like it did when others gave him that anxious stare. Another feeling bloomed inside him, one he couldn't really place. It was just that the nervous gleam over your pupils didn't make him hate himself and all the circumstances of his life that put him in his position.

Instead, your wide eyes and pouty lips made him feel strong. You made him feel like a hero. A real one, not the artificial caricature that Vought projected to the world. With you nearby, he felt like the kind of guy who deserved the American flag blowing off his back with a pretty girl cradled in his arms and a dead enemy at his feet. When you gazed up at him, he could only imagine that the pride rushing through his chest and confidence pooling between his hips was the feeling his creators intended for him.

"Did you need something from me, sir?" you asked, reminding him that he actually had to provide a reason to talk to you. Just wanting to stare at you like a psychopath would not suffice unfortunately.

"Oh no," he waved off, "The meeting just finished up. I was heading out too. I saw you, and I realized I haven't really taken the time to get to know you yet, which is unfortunate because I usually like to be familiar with the newer people we have working with us."

A complete lie. Before you, he didn't remember ever giving any of the interns a second glance. They were true nuisances. They were Ashleys.

"Oh... well I'm around whenever you wanna talk. Ashley keeps me busy, but I'm sure I could make an exception for you," you replied.

"You absolutely can make an exception for me," he chuckled, "If Ashley gives you any trouble, just let me know, and I'll make sure she remembers who's really in charge around here."

It wasn't until he heard your heart rate increase that he realized those words probably came off as threatening. Well, they were threatening, but you weren't supposed to see him that way.

"I'm kidding," he forced out with a laugh, "Just joking around like I do... I just don't want you to worry about getting in some kind of trouble for me sniffing around you."

You huffed out an awkward laugh of your own and nodded.  "I'll be sure to make some time for you in the future then and let Ashley know it was at your direction."

"Great," he said with probably too much enthusiasm. 

His jaw clenched into one of his usual tight smiles. He averted his eyes from you and looked towards the numbers on the elevator. Fuck, it was reaching the bottom. He didn't want to let you go, but it wasn't like he could just stroll down the street with you to go get Ashley's lunch. His mind scrambled to come up with a solution.

But like your earlier intrusion into the meeting, your gentle voice cuts through the hurricane forming in his head.

"Are you alright, sir?" you ask, anxious concern written all over your features.

He refocused on you and nodded. His arm extended out behind you, his palm landing against the elevator wall. As he leaned in, he could smell your adrenaline spiking. He could hear the shift of your shoe against the ground. If only he possessed a sixth sense for the mind, so he could know what little thoughts about him were flitting through your head.

"I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me," he answered. He smiled down at you, observing the slight nod you gave him in return.

"Of course not. It probably seems silly coming from me," you said.

His brows raised in amusement. "What's that supposed to mean?" he asked.

He saw the flash of regret in your eyes. The one people always gave him when he asked a question in that tone. The one that came from the panic of realizing they may have said something that offended Homelander.

You suppressed it pretty well though and brought out a smile that gave the impression that you hoped he was messing with you instead.

"Well you know... because you're you," you said and tilted your head in an innocent way that made his chest ache.

He chuckled that charming, prepackaged laugh that had been trained into him. "Even I can appreciate someone taking an interest in checking on me," he replied.

It was maddening, how bad he wanted you. He wasn't even sure when this craving had sprouted inside him. He had been so preoccupied with his affinity for Stillwell that his fixation with you struck him like a glass window in front of a flying bird. But no matter the timeframe in which it blossomed, it had taken root by now and wasn't going to go away on its own.

When he looked at you like this - staring up at him with earnest fascination - his mind drifted to darker places all on its own. He couldn't stop it if he wanted to (and really, he didn't want to). It's just how was he not supposed to be aware of the fact that it would be all too easy to take you back to his room? How could he not think about what it would feel like to have your fragile body beneath his own in private? How could he not wonder what you'd sound like crying out in a sinful mix of pleasure and pain?

Hell, how was he supposed to pretend like he couldn't just bend you over and fuck you dumb right here in the middle of this elevator if he wanted to? No one would be able to stop him. There wouldn't be a thing they could do other than watch. They could stare in horror as he used you like he deserved, as he pounded into your warm, soft, dripping hole like he needed...

Unfortunately, painting that picture in his head had his blood rushing South. He felt the subtle simmer of desire in his pelvis, and he knew in no time his length would be filling out. This suit gave him no way of hiding it either. Clearly, whoever made it hadn't anticipated the Homelander popping a boner on the job.

But luckily for him, the elevator chimed with its arrival at the bottom floor. He straightened out as you looked ahead in preparation of your departure. But before you could go, he grabbed your arm. His touch was tender, holding the same force he'd use when cradling a baby at a photo-op.

"Maybe later tonight you'd like to take me up on one of those talks? After you're done for the day, you could stop by my place. The sooner the better, right?" he asked.

Your eyes widened ever so slightly, but you still nodded. "Um... sure thing. I'll head up once I've finished all my work. It should be around six if that's ok?" you offered.

"Yeah, that works for me. I'll be waiting," he said in an attempt to be playful.

You smiled once more and then headed out of the elevator. His fingertips dragged down your arm to your wrist as you walked away before you finally slipped from his grasp. He could hear your heart pounding faster than your footsteps as you headed towards the exit of the building.

At six o'clock sharp, a knock sounded through his penthouse. And it only took him a few seconds to swing the door open and greet you.

"There she is," he beamed with exaggerated politeness.

You smiled modestly in return, shrugging and smoothing out a crease in your blouse. "I couldn't let the leader of the seven down," you joked.

He scoffed but opened the door wider, beckoning you into his place. You took the invitation and crossed the threshold. Your eyes glanced around the place, taking note of all the things in the apartment that housed the most powerful man on Earth.

The American flag taking up an entire wall almost stopped you in your tracks. It would've been funny if it was someone else, but because it belonged to him, it stood there like a warning. You tried not to show how daunting you found it. Average people could be touchy about that famous piece of cloth. You didn't want to find out if the strongest supe felt the same through means of offending him. 

In place of letting that bother you, you shifted your attention over to all the historical pictures hanging on the walls and the sleek surfaces and drawers filled with things you couldn't begin to imagine. Your eyes casted over the statues accenting the space as well. It was all so very polished. It looked like what you'd expect the Homelander entry in an Ikea catalog to be.

"So what do you think?" he asked. He knew his words came off as stiff. Probably a little stilted sounding. He just couldn't help it. For the first time, he couldn't get a read on how you felt through physical signs alone. And right now, he really really wanted you to like him.

"It's... impressive," you answered.

But he could hear the hesitation in your voice. In each word, there was the same wavering quality to it that you get when Ashley grilled you in front of an audience. It wasn't the precious reverence that he saw in the elevator. The nervous kind of admiration you held for someone above your standing. This was just plain anxiety, and that served no purpose to him. 

Despite your trepidation however, you walked forward to the window at the back of the place. You looked out over the city in awe.

"I would love to live somewhere high up like this," you said.

He came up from behind to stand next to you in front of the glass panes. His eyes landed on your face. You stared out the window, wonder twinkling in your eyes. Your voice sounded almost breathless. It was adorable.

"No fear of heights?" he asked.

"Not when it comes to being inside. Maybe I'd be nervous if we were on a balcony or something," you replied.

"Oh come on. You'd have nothing to worry about if you were with me. I'd never let you fall," he said, dropping his voice a few octaves.

You made that cute little face again when those words hit your ears. Your eyes widened before they fell to look at your shoes. So modest, the way you shied away. He wondered if you were always so timid or if it was only when a god amongst men like himself flirted with you.

He chuckled and reached out, tilting your chin back up to look at him. "You don't need to be nervous," he soothed, "There's no safer place to be than with the Homelander, right?"

You nodded right along. His words left no room for objection.

"Good girl," he smirked and dragged a gloved thumb over your cheek. He pulled his hand back and stepped in the direction of the brown leather sectional that sat in the middle of the room.

"Come over here and sit down. We can talk," he directed.

Following him to the large couch, you took your seat near the corner. You assumed he'd sit at the other end or at least towards the middle of the perpendicular cushions, but no. He sat down in the corner with you. His body was at most a foot away.

He continued to smile at you though he didn't speak. It felt odd, sitting there in silence across from him. He wasn't doing anything overtly threatening, yet you still felt at his mercy.

"So, do you like it here so far? Do you feel like you're fitting into the Vought family?" he asked with a bit of an edge to that second word.

You nodded again. A relieved breath seeped from your lungs as the tense void in conversation came to an end. "Yeah, it's nice here. I feel like I'm learning a lot."

He chuckled and leaned back against the stiff backing of the sofa. His muscular arm draped along the top. Though it wasn't his intention to draw your focus there, he caught the way your eyes dragged over his bicep.

"That's good," he said, "It can be a lot when you're new. I wouldn't want you feeling overwhelmed."

"That's nice of you. I appreciate it, but I'm used to a busy schedule," you replied.

"You're freshly graduated, aren't you?" he checked.

"Yeah," you said, your lips quirking upwards at his guess.

"I thought so. You have that cute, wide-eyed, optimistic thing going for you."

A small laugh leaves your lips. "I know. Ashley said I'll grow out of it by the end of this quarter."

His face dropped, and he almost abandoned the prince charming act he was attempting to pull off for you. The mere mention of Ashley was enough to irk him, but the thought that she was trying to change you? Not only change you but jade you. To strip away the soft and sweet qualities that hooked him on you in the first place. It was criminal. He couldn't hide his disdain.

"You shouldn't listen to her," he said. He wasn't angry, but his cadence held intensity. "Ashley's problem is Ashley. To be honest, I don't even know why they gave her an intern. It's not like she'd be good at teaching anything when she still doesn't understand most things about our business herself."

Your fingers dug into the edge of your seat. It wouldn't have been significant in a normal conversation, but when speaking with a man who could hear a pin drop forty stories down, he noticed.

"You're still nervous," he observed.

In an instant, your hands flew to your lap, like you knew what gave your anxiety away. You fidgeted with the hem of your skirt and shrugged.

"A little," you admitted.

"Are you scared of me?" he asked.

You shook your head without even thinking about the question.

"No, it's not that. I swear," you reassured, "It's just that this is a big deal for me. I'm really honored you want to get to know me, and I just want to make a good impression."

"You don't need to worry about that. I wouldn't have invited you here if I didn't have a good impression of you," he said.

You sighed slightly, letting out a bit of tension, but he could still smell that boosted cortisol running through your blood.

"Come here," he ordered, his voice soft but undeniably firm.

"What?" you asked.

A puff of amused air blew from his nostrils. "Come here," he repeated, "Sit closer."

As if you needed the guidance, he patted the space directly beside his hip. He could see the uncertainty in your eyes even after the gesture. The lack of understanding toward his reasoning persisted. Regardless of your skepticism however, you scooted in his direction and ended up where he wanted you.

"That's better," he said.

With careful fingers, he slipped the glove off his right hand. Your eyes locked on it in subtle awe. You'd seen this man on billboards and commercials for years. His face dominated newscasts. His voice broadcast over the radio on a weekly basis. Still, you had never seen such a human part of him. Five fingers and a palm reaching for your own.

They clasped around your hand. His skin was smooth. The gloves preserved them from any marks of experience.

"Did Ashley warn you about me?" he asked, drawing your eyes back to his own.

Your heart thundered, but you couldn't lie. Never had Vought bragged about Homelander being a human lie detector, but in this moment, you felt like that was the case.

"Yes," you responded.

He clicked his tongue in disapproval. "You didn't believe her, did you?" he asked.

You could tell he already knew the answer. He just wanted to hear it.

"Yes," you whispered again.

"What did she tell you?"

It was hard to remember that conversation you'd had a few weeks ago with Ashley. Feeling like you were two seconds away from having lasers beamed through your skull made minute details fuzzy and distant, but you manage to choke a few out anyways.

"She said that you have a very specific vision for the Seven, and that you'll do anything to make your dreams reality. She was just saying you're ambitious. That you care about the greater good," you summarized.

"I have a feeling you're saying it a lot nicer than she did," he teased. He could feel the fear rolling off of you in waves, and in a moment, he would rectify that. But for right now, he didn't mind letting his precious little fawn tremble in terror for a few moments more.

"Yeah, she can be kind of blunt," you said with a shaky laugh.

"That's one word for it," he said.

"She's not gonna get in trouble because of what I said, is she?" you asked.

He couldn't help laughing at that. The sound came out low and throaty. You were just so fucking pure. Worried about protecting someone who wouldn't hesitate for a second to sell you out if it meant she could climb up another rung on the corporate ladder.

His exposed thumb rubbed back and forth over your knuckles. "No. Of course not. We're just talking," he said.

He leaned in closer to you, positioning his mouth in close proximity to your ear. His free hand came up to cup your jaw.

"I appreciate your honesty though. Ashley probably couldn't tell you this, but I appreciate a loyal girl like you," he murmured.

On both your hand and through his glove in contact with your chin, he could feel your skin heat up.

"Oh... thank you, sir," you said.

He chuckled. His fingers squished into the flesh of your cheeks, making your lips puff out as though they were seeking a kiss.

"So polite, but I like that. We need more people here who understand their place," he said.

At this point, the gravity of your circumstances began to settle on you. Your fear had worn off a bit, and you realized what a compromising position he had you in. With one tight squeeze, he could crush every bone in your face.

Out of instinct, you tried pulling back a little. You didn't make it obvious, only attempting to gain a few inches of space.

That was a few inches too many though. He tightened his grip and kept you where he wanted you.

"Ah ah," he tutted, "How many times do I have to tell you that you don't need to be scared? I'm not going to hurt you."

You dropped the resistance right then and there. It wasn't worth pursuing. If he didn't want you getting away, you weren't getting away.

He took a few more seconds to study your face, taking in every minutiae of your expressions. Then, his hands dropped to your waist, and he pulled you into his lap. His thighs were firm against your ass, both rigid in how he carried himself and defined from the pure muscle that made them up.

His hands smoothed up and down your sides, coasting over each crease in your blouse. He massaged your soft tissue with gentle squeezes from the beginning of your bra down to the swell of your hips.

"God, you're beautiful," he muttered, "You fit here like you were made for me."

You vibrated in his grasp. He could feel the way you quivered with the urge to pull away.

"Thank you, s-sir," you stammered, "I really appreciate it but-"

"But nothing," he cut you off.

"But I don't think we should be... doing this," you tried to continue anyway.

"Why not?" he asked. Though his tone made it obvious that no matter what reason you provided, it wouldn't change his mind.

"Because you're like my boss, y'know? And I worked really hard to get my spot here, and I don't want people thinking I slept my way to where I am," you explained, "You're really nice, and I admire you a lot, but it wouldn't be right."

He didn't respond immediately. He paused and let your words hang in the air for a few moments.

"You know," he finally spoke, "I don't think you understand how things work around here. It doesn't matter what anyone else in this building thinks. Only me."

You blinked at him, unsure of how to respond to such an assertion. It didn't matter though. He continued without your input.

"What I do with you, how I feel about you - no one else will know about it unless you tell them. But even if you do and even if they care, there isn't a thing they'll do about it. There's not a thing they can do about it," he continued.

"I still don't think it's a good idea," you maintained.

"Good thing this isn't for you to think about then," he mocked, "You're a fast learner. You'll figure it out soon enough. I am God in this tower. And a god doesn't listen to his subjects. He guides them. He knows best."

One of his hands slid up your tummy and over your chest onto your throat. He cupped your jaw and swiped his thumb back and forth across your bottom lip.

"What did Ashley tell you about me?" he asked.

"That no one gets in your way."

"Good. And she was right. No one gets in my way. Nothing stops me from getting what I want. And I've wanted you for too fucking long not to try you out."

That set of fingers on your chin pulled your face towards his and brought you into a kiss. You froze against his lips. It felt as though all of time stopped. This high up, you couldn't hear the sounds of the city outside the penthouse. No one existed in this moment but you and him.

Unlike you, he melted into the exchange. He sighed against your skin and pulled you flush against his toned body. After a second to let you come to terms with what was happening, he kissed you again. His lips sucked on yours gently, attempting to coax you into returning the affection.

The most he got is you puckering them up ever so slightly.

He pulled away with frustration in his eyes and grabbed your face, jerking you a little to look at him.

"Don't act like you don't want this. I know you do," he said, "You're scared, but you don't need to be. Relax and let yourself enjoy this. It's not everyday that the most powerful man on earth wants to fuck you."

Your eyes blew up like little saucers, but before you could really process the directness of what he'd said, he was kissing you again. This time it wasn't as nerve wracking. You softened up a little and kissed back.

You didn't put much effort into it. Your lips responded like this was a juvenile first date. But he didn't let up. He didn't let you give him anything less than your best. His hands roamed across your body. They groped and fondled your breasts and then migrated South to feel up your ass through your pencil skirt.

Your muscles started to loosen up after a minute or so. You told yourself this wasn't so bad. He was being gentle so far, and for someone with his abilities, you wanted it to stay that way. You brought your hand up to his face and cupped his cheek. With that as leverage, you deepened the kiss.

He groaned as soon as you started to give in. His hands fell to your hips and tugged you so that you were straddling him. He smacked your ass, the sound echoing around his apartment. You could tell he held back. A real spank from Homelander could shatter your hip, but this one barely even stung. Maybe he did like you.

His fingers came up and with a sharp tug, he popped the front of your top loose. The column of buttons sprung free. The strips of cloth fell away to each of your sides, exposing a sliver of your skin. He furthered it by pulling off the garment entirely. His eyes trailed along your bare shoulders to your collar bone before finally landing on your breasts. He gave them a firm squeeze, kneading them through the barrier of your bra.

Meanwhile you rolled your hips down on his lap. Immediately, you felt his bulge that had risen to attention between your thighs. You did it again and then again. Each time you ground yourself against him with more pressure.

He grunted, and his eyes fluttered. His hands returned to your waist and gripped you hard, guiding your movements. He seemed transfixed for a few moments, as if he couldn't decide his next move.

After a few seconds though, he got his momentum back. He yanked you off his lap and flipped over so that you were seated on the couch again.

He rose to his feet before you. There your eyes scanned over his body from his tousled blond hair and his kiss-swollen red lips to his sculpted abdomen and his swelling erection. You reached out to touch him, but he stopped your hand mid-air.

Once your arm was limp on the couch again, he removed his other glove. He dropped it to the floor before bringing his right boot to the spot on the sofa next to you. He unzipped the red shoe and then discarded it like he had with the other item. The other boot followed the same routine.

"I don't let just anyone see me like this," he told you as his fingers began to undo his collar, "You should feel lucky."

Lucky wasn't the word you would use to describe your feelings in this situation. Maybe special. Or distinct. Individual. Either way, you continued to watch. Your eyes glided over his figure as he pulled away the tight blue costume that seemed like a second-skin for how much he wore it.

His defined chest came into view. Your reluctance hadn't vanished all together just yet, but at this point, it was fading fast. Pale hair dusted the muscular expanse and trailed down his stomach to the waistband of the bottoms. The waistband he soon hooked his fingers over and peeled down.

He dropped the scaled navy fabric to the ground before kicking it away, leaving himself in just a small pair of boxers. His hand came down and rubbed the swollen tent at the front while his eyes lingered on you.

"Do you want to touch?" he asked.

You nodded. It wasn't a hard decision. This was still a bad idea. You hadn't changed your mind on that. But at this point, what else was there to do? Defying Homelander wasn't an option for anyone on this planet ever. You were no different.

"Ask," he commanded.

"Please can I touch you?" you said.

"Please what?"

"Please, sir. Can I touch you?"

"Good girl," he praised before nodding, "Go for it."

You reached out, this time successfully. Your palm landed flat on his stomach. You held it there for a moment, just feeling his skin. In a way, it was unreal. To feel that someone propped up on the world's pedestal was flesh and blood like you.

Rubbing up and down, you continued getting a feel for his body. He smirked at your wonder before guiding you up by the elbow.

"Stand up and do it right," he said.

"Sorry."

The word came from your mouth automatically. You brought your other hand up to his chest and felt the muscles in his chest. Everything was so built. You expected that, but it was still odd to feel beneath your fingertips. He felt like a living ken doll. You almost didn't believe if he dropped his boxers there would be a real cock there.

Your hands traced up to his shoulders with precision. They explored down his biceps and forearms. And then finally, you brought your lips into his chest. He sighed and tilted his head back, relishing the feeling.

You kissed all over, swirling your tongue and tracing shapes onto his skin. It was almost entrancing, to be so focused on someone like this. You barely noticed as he turned the two of you and sat himself down on the couch, lowering you to your knees.

You worked your mouth down his abs, licking and kissing the twitching muscles. Your fingernails scraped up his sides and then down onto his thighs. When your lips reached the waistband of his boxers, your eyes glanced up at him.

"Can I take them off, sir?" you asked.

He smirked at the title. Only one word of correction and he'd trained that phrase into you.

"Yes," he answered. It was a simple answer. All that was required for someone so naturally obedient.

You took it in stride, tucking your fingers over the elastic and tearing them down. His hard cock popped up and slapped against his pelvis. You couldn't have been happier about your earlier ken doll theory being proven wrong. The sight of his dick was enough to make you drool. It was better than any work of art out there.

It rested against his body at the perfect length, the perfect girth. The tip flushed beautiful red and pearly white beads of precum smeared at the top. Your fingers wrapped around it and gave it a few strokes, testing the waters.

His hand came down and petted your head. He watched as you studied the appendage, as you experimented with your own touch. It was so fucking cute he thought he might cum right then and there. Fuck, he thought you were sweet every moment he had eyes on you, but right now, you were darling. You were doing as he said. Accepting your place at the feet of a superior being.

"Put it in your mouth," he said from above, "I want you to taste it."

There was no hesitation on your end this time around.

"Yes sir," you responded before leaning forward and wrapping your lips around his cock.

He groaned and let his chest hollow out with a harsh exhale. Your mouth was so warm and wet, nice and snug around his length. He rocked his hips up, pushing it further into your throat. He expected a small gag or sputter, but instead you moaned. You shut your eyes and flattened your tongue against his shaft before beginning to bob your head.

"Fuck," he hissed. His legs tensed up, and he pressed down on your head. That did get a tiny gag out of you. You gripped his hips to stabilize yourself though and stayed in place. Your nose nestled against the darker curls of hair that sat at the base of his cock.

Spit leaked from your mouth and dribbled onto his skin below. He took a few moments to just enjoy the feeling of his dick down your throat. The sight of his sweet, innocent girl choking on his cock. Then he let you pull off and catch your breath. 

You took a few deep puffs, letting the spots clear from your vision before you dove back in for more. Your hand stroked the lower part of him your mouth didn't cover in its shallow sucks while your other set of fingers caressed his balls tenderly.

He'd never experienced devotion. As much as it pained him to ever acknowledge, his sexual experiences had been lackluster up until now. There were the times with Maeve, but they always left something to be desired for him. Then there was the time with Stillwell that ended before it really started. In either case, no one had ever put all of themselves into pleasuring him like you were doing right now. It drove him wild. He could feel his sac tightening up, and he knew he had to get you off.

Planting one hand on each side of your head, he tugged you back. You looked up at him with glossy, cock-drunk eyes and saliva-coated lips. He swiped some of the mess away before addressing you.

"You're doing so good for me, but I think you're ready for more, don't you?"

"Yes, sir," you agreed.

"My perfect pet," he crooned and pulled you up onto the couch.

He laid you flat on your back and ripped your skirt and panties off in one go. His eyes drank in the sight of your nude lower half, but he didn't spend much time savoring it. He spread you out, slotting himself against your center.

With a few rocks of his hips, he dragged his length through your wetness. He let the sticky fluid coat his shaft, and then he sunk in. His tip bullied its way into your entrance and the rest of him followed. You whined at the stretch. Your walls clamped around him, eager to accept the intrusion.

"Atta girl," he grunted as he worked himself all the way in.

His hips connected with your ass, but he still bucked them, trying to get more. You yelped at the force. He was already buried inside you. Anymore and his tip would be nudging the entrance to your womb.

Fortunately for you, he pulled his hips back, giving you a short break from feeling so full. It was short lived though. Seconds later he snapped back in. That began the quick rhythm he set into. It was desperate and needy, emotions he'd tried to hide until this point.

You whimpered as your body bobbed with the momentum. His thrusts bounced you back and forth. The sounds of his body smacking against yours filled the room. His fingers dug into your waist hard enough to bruise. You didn't complain about the minor pain though because you could tell he was holding back in every other regard. If a few marks on your side kept you from being pulverized by a super cock, then that was a burden you were willing to carry.

Above you, he starts to pant. His breaths leave him raggedly huffing, sucking down what oxygen he can get in the midst of rutting into you. He tilts his head down at you and gazes at your blissed out face with lidded eyes.

"I could have anyone. Any person on this Earth would be mine if I wanted them to be. But the only one I want is you. Doesn't that feel good?" he breathed.

"Yes!" you cried out. Your back arched up off the couch. "Feels so fucking good, sir."

He leaned into you more, squishing your body into the surface below. Your thighs pressed against your tummy as he bent you.

"Yeah, it does," he grunted, "It's all there is. It's all you need to think about. How you're all mine."

"Mhm," you whined with a lazy nod. You were getting closer to cumming and responding to his words was taking a lower priority in your mind.

"And to think you tried to deny yourself of it," he mocked. He clenched his jaw and slammed into you harder.

You shrieked and clutched his shoulders. In the back of your mind, you hoped his penthouse was sound proofed or at least enough distance from the nearest one. Otherwise you wouldn't have to tell anyone about this incident for it to spread throughout the tower.

"I knew better, didn't I? I knew this is what you needed," he said.

Again, you nodded. You felt the heat in your belly reaching the boiling point.

"Say it," he huffed.

You tried to force it out, but your own hiccuped sob of pleasure cut you off. He didn't give you a break though. He stared down at you with expectation, so you continued.

"You know best- uh, fuck- you know best, sir," you whined.

"Good fucking girl," he growled on top of you.

He was already close from the blowjob you'd given him. Only a few strokes more, and he was ready to explode. He swiveled his hips, angling them upwards to pound into that special spot that would make you see stars and stripes.

You mewled when you came. Your body trembled harder than it did when you were scared. Arousal gushed out of you and coated his skin. He huffed and buried his face in your neck before letting go.

Everything faded into the background as you laid underneath him in the haze that came after the absolute high of pleasure. Now you could feel his heartbeat too. The organ thundered against his chest over and over as he came down.

Minutes later he pulled back. His knuckles caressed down your jawline before he climbed off of you entirely. He sat back on the couch and let out a deep breath. You weren't sure whether you were supposed to pick up your stuff and leave or follow along with him and stay close to his side. There was no real indication of what he wanted in this moment, but he turned to smile at you and huffed out a laugh.

"I think I'll keep you with me more often now. Really show you the ropes of fitting in around here."

You sat up and nodded awkwardly. He leaned toward you, cupping your cheek.

"I'll be a much better teacher than Ashley ever was," he said. His arm snaked around you and pulled you to his chest again. "No more errands or coffee runs. I'll show you things you need. Things that you'll enjoy."

He ran his fingers over your face and kissed your temple. The touches were tender against your skin. They would have been romantic if your mind wasn't racing with what this all meant in terms of your job and the grand scheme of your future.

Looking at him though, he wasn't worried at all. He smiled down at you before whispering once more.

"My sweet little pet. All mine now."

[pomefioredove]

I'm not sure exactly which day counts as "weekend" bc of cultural differences lol but you can ignore this if it's not on the permitted day!!

But for the brief Rollo x reader thing that's you're doing, can I please have something with him and a reader that is generally very tactile? One day they grab his hand to pull him somewhere as they absentmindedly ramble, and they don't realize it until he speaks up about it (or not....? <w<)

hii anon!! ofc this is a very cute request

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ cold hands

type of post: short fic characters: rollo additional info: platonic or romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu

Winter in Fleur City is as unkind as it is beautiful.

Autumn's colorful embrace was short and sweet, giving you but three weeks of cozy, lukewarm mornings before the trees were bare and bending in the breeze that carried along the Soleil.

The first snow of the winter season had completely frozen over the river.

It had also kissed everything in frost, blanketed the streets, and canceled classes at Noble Bell College for the morning. It was heavy and restless.

It became no wonder to you that the people of Fleur City were eager to put up their tinsel and candles. The smell of cinnamon and pine is an effective distraction from the icy wind, after all.

And so, without classes to attend to, you find yourself walking through the city on crushed snow, already muddy with boot prints and animal hooves, to a seasonal cafe which had just opened.

Oh, and the Student Council President has offered to escort you.

It's, apparently, quite an ordeal; the few Noble Bell students you pass by in the streets stop mid-snowball fight or nearly drop their to-go coffees from their mittens when they see you, bundled up in Rollo Flamme's scarf, walking hand-in-hand.

You honestly hadn't even noticed you had grabbed him. It had been somewhat of an impulse, your cold, undressed hands feeling out for something to hold.

And usually, that would have been a quill, or one of those artisanal wooden blocks this city so loves, just something to run your thumb over while you think, not the Student Council President's hand.

But he doesn't say anything, and, more presently, doesn't pull away.

"You really ought to have dressed warmer," Rollo says, fussing over the scarf he'd given you off his own neck. "You'll catch something, and missing class over a frivolous venture such as is unacceptable."

"I suppose I didn't think of it,"

"Then next time," he says. "I don't know what I would do with myself if you were ill. It's the busiest time of year."

Right. Finals are coming up.

"I won't do it again,"

He sighs. "I know. Now, come along. Morning classes may have been dismissed, quite unnecessarily, I might say, but we'll both be expected on campus at noon,"

His hand tightens around yours, and his pace becomes brisker, cutting through the myriad of tourists and laughing children and pigeons. He shields you from the falling snow and blistering wind, holding you behind him until you reach the cafe.

It's bustling and loud inside, busier than the annual cafes you're used to visiting, but Rollo somehow has you in and out with a warm drink and a pastry in no more than five minutes.

You have the treat outside, your hands already cracked from the dry cold in the air, and once you've finished he slips his hand into yours and begins walking again.

There's not much conversation. Rollo is a strange man; some days, he's happy to talk about the history of Fleur City or what he's studying in Noble Bell's prestigious law class, and some days he's like this. Quiet.

His hand is surprisingly warm, though, despite the cold he seems to maintain a high body temperature all on his own. He runs a thumb over the back of your hand, feeling the dry skin there.

"You're freezing,"

"I'm okay,"

"Honesty is a virtue," he snaps, his sharp way of reminding you that he can always tell when you're lying, and he doesn't like it.

"You'll catch your death of cold. And then what would I do?"

For a fleeting moment, you can swear he gets a little warmer; or, at least, his hand does. You must be imagining things.

The silence lingers like the cold in the air, but, finally, he gets you to start talking about your favorite class subject, which you do until you've reached the gates of the school.

Rollo stops you, bids you an overly formal good-bye, and takes his hand, too, leaving you with the cold.

Hm. He seemed so off today. You wonder what that could be?

You won't realize that you'd been holding his hand all morning until later, but for now, you're content with the mystery and the warm scarf he left on your shoulders.

[30somethingautisticteacher]

Old School

****

Buck didn't know what to say the first time someone asked him. It didn't make any sense - he was in a same-sex relationship, that was the whole point. What did they mean by "which one of you is the woman?"

Casual homophobia wasn't something he had prepared himself for when he and Tommy started dating. He'd braced himself for outright hatred, for angry confrontations, but these casual, almost friendly questions caught him off guard. The comments that people didn't even realize were offensive.

One particular incident was at a badge and ladder bar near the 118. Buck and Tommy had been on opposing shifts and were excited to see each other, so maybe they got a bit zealous with their hellos.

"Which one of you is the chick in bed?" a drunk man in an LAFD hoodie asked, stumbling closer to their table.

Tommy was usually so even-keeled. That's what made his reaction all the more startling to Buck.

"You think it's okay to talk about people's sex lives?" Tommy asked, his voice dangerously calm.

"Sorry, man," the drunk firefighter slurred, "but you guys just don't seem fruity."

"Oh fuck," Buck thought, recognizing the calm before the storm in Tommy's expression.

"Fruity?" Tommy repeated, still maintaining his dangerous calm. "So because I'm not prancing around in a rainbow tutu, I don't fit your narrow view of what a gay man should be?"

"Dude, I'm sorry, it's just weird to me. I like the ladies," the man said, swaying slightly.

"So does he," Tommy said sharply, pointing to Buck. "Sexuality isn't a black and white thing. But you're too drunk to have that conversation, and I'm too annoyed to try."

"Whatever, man," the drunk firefighter said, waving his hand dismissively. "Enjoy making out."

"We will," Tommy replied, pulling Buck into a deep kiss. When they broke apart, he kept his eyes locked on the drunk firefighter. "And we'll enjoy a lot more than that too."

Buck couldn't help but grin, both at Tommy's response and at the man's reddening face. He wrapped an arm around Tommy's waist, pressing closer. "Much more."

The drunk firefighter muttered something under his breath and stumbled away.

"Sorry about him," another man said as he approached their table. "He's not homophobic, he's just an idiot."

Tommy and Buck exchanged a look - they'd heard that before.

"If he's not homophobic, what would you call those comments?" Tommy asked, his earlier calm now edged with frustration.

"He's just old school, you know? Not used to seeing two guys together. Especially not guys like you." The man gestured vaguely at them.

"Guys like us?" Buck's voice was sharp. "You mean firefighters? Or do you mean guys who don't fit your stereotype of what queer men should look like?"

"Look, I didn't mean—"

"No, you did mean," Tommy cut in. "Look, I appreciate you trying to apologize for him, but casual homophobia is still homophobia. And 'old school' isn't an excuse for intolerance. Neither is being drunk."

"Hey, sorry we're late," Bobby called out as he approached with Hen, Chimney, and Eddie. His eyes quickly assessed the tension at the table. "Is there a problem here?"

The other firefighter shifted uncomfortably. "No, no problem. Just heading out," he said, retreating quickly.

"Just some drunk guy making comments about me and Tommy," Buck explained, his jaw still tight. "Then his friend trying to excuse it as him being 'old school.'"

Hen raised an eyebrow. "Let me guess - 'you don't seem gay?'

"Bingo" Tommy deadpanned.

"But apparently it's fine because he's not homophobic, he's just an idiot," Buck finished, mimicking air quotes.

Chimney let out a low whistle. "No wonder it looked tense over here."

"You two sure you're okay?" Bobby asked, studying both of them with concern.

"Yeah, we're fine," Buck replied.

Hen let out a dry laugh. "You should hear how many people refer to me and Karen as 'besties' even after I introduce her as my wife. Like they just can't compute it."

"Tell them about what happened at Harbor last week," Buck said to Tommy, shaking his head.

Tommy rolled his eyes. "One of the guys thought he was hilarious, and called Evan my 'little wife' when he brought me lunch."

"Like bringing food to your partner is somehow a gender role thing," Buck added.

"As if every relationship has to fit into their narrow little box," Hen agreed.

As their friends sat down, the tension slowly eased. The night shifted into something better - trading stories, sharing drinks, laughing together. It wasn't perfect, Buck thought, watching Tommy joke with Eddie about something. These moments of casual prejudice would keep happening. But having people in their corner sure made it easier to handle.

[axnrxn]

if you're comfortable with it; 141 team (+ maybe konig/alejandro) accidentally hurting their partner??

Accidentally Hurting You (141, Alejandro Vargas, and König x GN!reader)

Dark fic, angst and some fluff (varied ratios depending on the character), declarations of love

TW: Angst, ptsd, mentions of graphic violence, war stories, mentions of death/blood.

Simon “Ghost” Riley

You wake up at the sounds of whimpering from the man next to you. Simon has been having vivid nightmares since Las Almas. You felt helpless, you hated seeing him suffer. You got hurt and it’s haunted him ever since.

“Simon” you whisper softly, gently touching his cheek.

Suddenly, his eyes snapped open and he crushed your lingering hand in his own. You yelped from the excruciating pain.

“It’s me, baby, it’s me!” You yelled, unable to hide the immense pain you were in.

Finally, Simon’s fearful eyes were transformed by guilt.

“Shit- fuck. I’m so sorry, love. Fuck” His voice broke, finally realizing what happened.

“It’s okay, babe, I’m here.” You repeated it like a mantra, attempting to soothe him and yourself at the same time.

Your hand throbbed, but you didn’t attempt to move it just yet. His hand began to shake, his breath ragged. Then he sat up quickly, letting you collapse onto the bed where he once was under you.

“Fuck- I… M’sorry, love. Fuck.” He whispered, unable to look you in the eye before rushing out of the bedroom.

Finally, the pain in your hand set in. You let the tears fall silently, the throbbing in your hands too intense to ignore. It was best if Simon didn’t see you like this.

You stifled your tears and left your room as well, deciding to get an ice pack to soothe the pain. You saw Simon on the couch, arms resting on his knees, hunched over. You could hear his sniffling as you reached into the freezer for ice.

You sat down next to him and slowly draped your arm behind his back. He tensed, freezing under your touch. But then his shoulders slowly dropped back down. He still avoided your gaze, his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry. 'M gonna keep hurting ye, love. That's all I do, hurt people. Hurt you." His voice was small and breathy, like he struggled to push out enough air.

"This isn't your fault, Si. It isn't who you are, you're just hurting. And you'll keep hurting if you don't believe you can stop. You'll get there. It just takes time, baby." You assured, maintaining your composure as he broke in front of you.

You crawled into his lap, under his hunched form, and buried your face into his stomach. You felt his tears pelt your cheeks as you laid under him, keeping your eyes closed as the storm passed. You spared him from your gaze, knowing that it would only push him further over the edge. Finally, the rain on your face ceased, leaving quiet sniffles and shaky sighs above you.

"I don't think 'm gonna ever be okay. I don't know why you're with me." He said quietly.

"I'm going to be with you forever, Si. I know what you've been through, I would never expect you to be okay 100% of the time." He looked at your hand as you spoke. "And that's okay. I'm strong, too. I know what I've gotten into. Let me be strong for you, you're not alone in this anymore." You finished your mini pep talk by taking his hand in your injured one, doing your best to ignore the twinge of pain that the contact initiated.

He sighed and leaned back, pulling your hand to his heart. "I don't deserve you..." he said, slowly regaining his composure.

"Because I love your ass, obviously." You teased, trying to lighten the mood.

He grumbled a bit before letting your hand go. "I'm gonna get you a new ice pack and some Advil." He said, standing up from the couch.

"And I love you too," he added as he walked away.

"I love you more than anything, Simon Riley." You whispered to yourself. But you knew he heard it.

Johnny “Soap” MacTavish

Shrapnel from one of his blasts hits you

"Fuck, love, 'm so sorry." Soap apologized breathlessly above you, chest heaving from running to you so quickly.

"'M okay, Johnny, it was an accident. Just shite luck," you grimaced, pressing harder on the gash in your side. It had just missed your ceramic plates, entering your side where there was only soft material protecting.

"I shoulda made sure you were far enough, fuck, I thought you were, dammit" he scolded himself as you bled.

Ghost had begun to use his emergency medkit to patch you up, no longer concerned about enemies nearby as Johnny's blast had wiped a pretty large area. It would take at least 15 minutes before any reinforcements arrived, so stopping the bleed temporarily would be the goal.

Johnny finally bent down, shielding you from the sun as he took your hand that had previously pressed into your wound.

"'M sorry for this, love. Eyes on me while L.T. patches ye, 's gonna hurt." He demanded, keeping your hand firmly in his.

"Good news, Soap, 's just a bit of shrapnel, nothing major. Just a nick, lots of blood, though." Ghost announced. "Sorry about this, (c/n), ain't giving ya pain killers til we're outta here. Need you sharp." Ghost said, before you felt your side light up in pain.

You couldn't help crying out, Soap immediately provided his sleeve for you to bite down on.

"Shh love, yer doin' so good." Soap's accent thickened, comforting you. His voice always making you feel safe.

You closed your eyes, focusing on the sound of Soap's voice rather than his words as he attempted to talk you through it.

"Good job, (c/n), it's over. Ye did good, it's okay." Soap said, finally getting your attention.

You sighed, feeling your side throb. You didn't look, feeling Ghost place medical tape over some gauze. Soap grabbed your arm opposite the side of your gash and supported your entire weight as he stood with you, his hand around your torso. You leaned into his neck as much as you could, trying to steady yourself as your blood loss finally reached your head.

"I got ye, love. Lean on me. L.T.?" Ghost grabbed your other arm, slinging it across his own shoulders, crouching to make sure he didn't force you to extend to his height and pull on your wound.

Soap leaned his head towards your ear and whispered "I ain't gonna let anything happen to ye. I love ye so much, 'm dyin' before you, dammit."

You smiled a bit at his silly promise at the end and replied "I love you, too, Johnny," with your remaining energy. You can't remember what happened after that.

Kyle “Gaz” Garrick

"Fuck! Dammit, they got (c/n)." Gaz shouted into his comms.

You leaned on Gaz's shoulder as he dragged you through the narrow side streets of Amsterdam.

"(c/n), how copy?" Price asked you through your earpiece.

"Pretty shite, Captain," you replied through gritted teeth.

"Get (c/n) to the car with our cartel friend, Gaz." Price ordered.

"Copy" Gaz replied as he readjusted his grip on you.

You could see him poorly hiding the stress on his face, his eyebrows furrowed as he tried to drag you towards Price and Laswell.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, (y/n). C'mon, just a bit further." Gaz urged, talking to himself more than you.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, Kyle." You panted, struggling to stay semi-upright as the blood loss blacked out your vision.

"Stay with me, (y/n)" Gaz pleaded, letting you fully rest your weight on him.

Noticing you were on the verge of passing out in the street, Gaz picked you up bridal style and continued making his way to the car.

"Talk to me, darling. Anything. Say anything, keep your eyes open."

"Mmm , can't" you groaned into his shoulder.

"C'mon, you can do it," worry lacing his voice as he attempted to pick up his pace.

"Well, I love you lots. And I'm not hungry anymore," you declared, not fully coherent.

He laughed a bit at your last remark, "I love you, too, darling."

"I'll marry you when this is all over, promise." you said, fully a puppet to your subconscious.

"What was that?" Gaz said, not able to process your words. Then it hit him.

"Well, shit, I'd better ask you when we get out of here, yeah?" He said, finally in range of the car with Laswell and Price.

John Price

Gets you shot by not calling your shot in time

You grasped your shoulder tightly as you hid behind cover, your back pressed against the rooftop door you had shut behind you.

"(c/n), how copy?" Price asked over comms.

"I'm hit, right shoulder, 0-6," you replied, already using your free hand to rip open your medkit as you bled all over the stairwell.

"Stay put, 2-6, on my way."

You began to strip off your vest, peeling away layers until only your undershirt was left on your top half. You maneuvered around your shoulder, refusing to move it for the fear of aggravating the burning sensation even further.

The lower stairwell door opened, you grabbed your sidearm immediately in your functioning hand.

"Just me, (c/n), stand down." Price announced, knowing you were a sitting duck after being shot from your perch.

"Fuck, John, what were you waiting for? I could've taken that shot, why'd you wait so fucking long?" You asked breathlessly, frustrated with your captain.

"Laswell ordered it, not me, love. I'm sorry, at least let me help you out of here." Price replied, his voice low. His eyes were filled with guilt as he got closer to you. "I've got Gaz on the lower entrance, so I've bought us some time. Let me have a look at you." He assured, wavering between captain and partner mode.

His personalities blurred together, it was both a command and a loving insistence. You loved his commanding nature, but hated it at the same time. How you felt both like his soldier and his partner. It made your stomach do uncomfortable flips.

"He got me good, right through my shoulder." You said, scooting towards him to give him a better look.

Price studied your shoulder for a minute, inspecting the entry wound and looking behind you for an exit wound. After wiping away the copious amounts of blood, he located an exit wound. It wasn't too bad considering you'd been shot by an enemy sniper. You got lucky.

"Just clipped the top of you, luckily. Took a chunk, but didn't make a big hole." Your captain stated.

His gaze softened as it met yours. "I'm sorry about this, love. I am so sorry. It's on me."

"We've all got our orders, yeah? You couldn't do anything." You tried to reassure him, but he wasn't having it.

"I shouldn't have waited for the call. I should've made it anyway," he muttered, starting to focus on patching you up enough to escort you out before you lost too much blood.

"Well, you're here now to piece me back together, at least. I expect special treatment when we return to base, Captain." You teased, causing Price to shake his head, amused.

"You'll be getting bed rest, love. What more could you want?"

"Breakfast in bed, obviously," you replied coyly.

"I'll see what I can do, then." He said with a laugh.

"John?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too, (y/n)."

König

You rolled around the grappling mat with König on top of you. You straddled his waist, attempting to lift his right arm to slide your foot under it and roll into an arm bar. His strength threatened to topple you over as he bucked his hips, attempting to throw you off balance. Eventually, his attempts succeeded.

"Ahaha, yes! I've got you now!" He declared excitedly. His thighs caged you, long enough to engulf your entire torso, as his hand pinned both your wrists above your head, effortlessly.

Your pride bubbled within you, refusing to tap out. You began to struggle under König's weight, unable to even move him an inch as all 200+ pounds pressed onto your middle.

You huffed, kicking your legs wildly and trying to twist onto your side to throw him off of you. You didn't want to lose again. In one of your twists, you succeeded to turn to your side, but failed to throw König off. His weight was shifted entirely into your side, causing you to yelp.

"Scheiße! I'm so sorry, liebling." König panicked, immediately getting off of you like you were the most fragile piece of glass and he had just cracked you. You could see the panic and guilt in his eyes immediately as he assessed you.

"Fuck, I'm okay, 's my fault." you hissed, your pride wounded anyway. You wanted to curl up into a ball.

"Liebling, you can't keep going like that, I don't want to hurt you." König insisted, still too afraid to touch you.

"I just can't keep fucking losing, I can't be weak." You whispered, frustrated and on the verge of tears.

"And you won't be. That's why you train with me, ja? I'm the strongest, so if you beat me, you beat everyone." König assured you in a matter-of-fact tone.

You knew he was right, but it still stung. You felt like you didn't have enough time, which just made you want to train with the goal to win rather than to learn. He sensed it, so he finally mustered the courage to lightly brush your cheek with the back of his hand.

"I'll make sure you're safe, liebling. Always. Are you okay to try again on me?"

"Yeah, but can you just hold me for a bit?" "Ya, of course."

You scooted your back towards his chest, his arms and legs completely encircling you as he let you curl into him.

"I love you, König," you mumbled into his sleeve.

"I love you, too, liebling," he replied, resting his cheek lightly on top of your head as he hugged you tighter.

Alejandro Vargas

"Again." Alejandro ordered.

You turned back to your target, firing your sidearm. You barely hit the target last time, but this time, you completely missed. You huffed in frustration, dropping your clip and reloading it with a new one.

"I can't fucking do this, Ale." You complained, starting to feel tears well up in your eyes.

"You can and you will, cariño." He reassured you, his eyes hard with determination to push you to success.

"I fucking can't!" you shouted. "I just fucking can't anymore." Your voice broke as the tears flowed.

His eyes softened as he noticed he pushed you too far. He quickly made his way towards you taking the gun from your hands and setting it on the table beside you.

"Hey, hey, look at me. You could do it before, so you can do it again." He said softly.

You hadn't been able to shoot properly since breaking your wrist and receiving a concussion from a particularly nasty car accident you were in while chasing narcos. You were lucky to be alive and to have only escaped with the injuries you did.

"But what if I can't? What if I'm permanently fucked up, Ale?" You asked, unsure if you'd ever fully recover.

"Then you're fucked, cariño. I need you to try for me. I need you to be able to defend yourself again. Las Almas is no place to be defenseless, yes?" His voice was serious, low and demanding.

"Fuck, I know." You replied.

"So come on. Again,” He ordered, only this time he positioned himself behind you, guiding your stance. He widened your feet and turned your shoulders, his hand stablizing your wrist with one hand as he peered over your shoulder.

You pulled the trigger. You hit nearly directly in the center.

"See? Just need to get back into it." Alejandro smiled at you as you turned towards him.

"Thank you, Ale. I love you so much," you professed, your eyes glossy.

"Te quiero también, cariño." (I love you too, sweetheart.)

A/N: Sorry for the delay! I'm taking a lot of exams and working on some quantum physics total wavefunction equations (aka crying over math about an electron that literally no one cares about). I'm taking care of the requests in my drafts before I work on my draft of the fic from the poll.

If my Spanish is terrible, I’m sorry. I’m still learning, so if I fuck up just let me know how to fix it.

[aplaceforyourhearttorest]

Desert Hills Motel ✩ James Hetfield (18+)

for @30-3am ♡

The Tulsan heat beats down on you as you carry your bags toward the small and now overpacked motel's parking lot. Cars pile up and create a combined cacophony of overused horns and shouts, as a tour bus haphazardly pulls in and loudly shudders to an abrupt stop. Sweat trickles down the pulse points on the sides of your neck, causing your expression to set in a grimace as your arms begin to ache from the weight of your toiletries and exertion. Your curiosity gets the best of you as you spot a large crowd of teens and young women around your age, barrel their way into the cramped crowd in front of the already rented rooms.

"Can you believe they're actually here in Oklahoma?" A girl beams, causing the cluster of people around her to relay the same sentiment and start to talk over each other.

"I didn't think they'd be touring so heavily, especially after what happened only a few years ago." You hear someone exclaim as an elbow roughly bumps into yours, causing you to instinctively grip harder onto the ears of the plastic bags in your hands. Uneasiness begins to pulse through you as the chatter surrounding you suddenly turns into a bellowing pit of screams. Your eyes try to erratically search for the number matching the crumpled keycard in your trembling palm over the tall figures in front of you, but to no avail. The numbers were completely out of your line of sight. Hesitantly shouldering your way past one of the men blocking your view, newfound hope begins to bloom in your chest as a small passageway slowly makes itself in the middle of the crowd.

Leaning forward on the tips of your boots, you lift yourself up to take advantage of the few extra inches of height your fmb's give you, before letting out a chattering exhale as you see the sliver of the exit turn into a full-blown path. Raising your arms to allow the bagged items to shuffle themselves from your wrists down to your elbows, you try to make yourself as small as possible as you duck under the unceremonious, shoving hands.

Biting back a wince as a hand nearly makes contact with your sweat laden and rosy cheek, you nearly trip over your feet in haste as you move forward.

"Here they come, here they come!" A voice shouts right next to your left ear, causing you to lose momentum and pause right in the middle of the open area. Letting out a curse as you see a small group of various and differently dressed men steadily make their way through the crowd and near where you stood frozen, you force yourself to trudge forward, before making the choice to unsteadily run forward in between the divided two parts of the hotel, before stopping to finally relax in front of a dilapidated ice box. Momentarily closing your eyes and placing one of your bags onto the ground, you roll your aching wrists to try and relieve some tension as you take in the cold gust of air cascading itself from the machine in front of you. Squeezing your shoulder blades together and shakily inhaling a much-needed breath, you bask in the now muted sounds of the once overstimulating screams and welcome in the hum of the refrigeration unit.

"Feels nice, doesn't it?" An easygoing tone asks you, causing your eyes to snap open and squint up blearily at the man before you, the sun making your eyebrows furrow. Lifting your free hand up to create a makeshift visor to protect you from the unrelenting beams, you feel yourself begin to fluster as a handsome man in a cowboy hat fully comes into view. "Bet you don't get too many cool days around here." He makes sure to maintain eye contact with you as he stands his guitar case on the brick wall next to him. Your eyes widen in realization as you take in his appearance. Dirty blonde hair rests against his broad shoulders and cascades down his strong neck, where a necklaced worn and signed pick lays against a barely covered chest, his light colored and sparse chest hair peeking out from under his stretched-out v neck t-shirt. Tight black jeans encapsulate every divot in his seemingly never-ending long legs, and finally, a black pair of cowboy boots that almost entirely match your own, except for in color and their lack of heel. And although his outfit screamed southern boy, you knew he was anything but. This man's aura screamed he was a star and was meant to be one. Of course, he'd be part of the band everyone was currently losing their minds over.

"You seem like you'd fit right in, attire and all." You drawl out sheepishly, the smile you get back in response pulling you in and withdrawing out the rest of the uneasiness from your body.

"A southern bell, huh? Guess we chose the right hotel after all." James muses, before beckoning his head toward the barely lit neon green cactus sign. Unable to hide your grin, you look to the side to catch your bearings, before meeting his bright blue eyes once again.

"Your type of music not too welcomed around here?" You implore, the tips of your boots nearly caressing his as he places himself closer to the only source of cool air.

"With the way everyone reacted to us settling down in town, you'd think otherwise, doll." Cheeks blazing from the endearing term, you purse your lips, before watching him lick his own in response. "With the way everyone's reacted to y'all settling down, I know your group isn't something we usually see," Bracketing in your plush bottom lip before releasing it slowly, you airily breathe out as the tall man in front of you watches your chest rise and fall, the already charged air around the two of you starting to feel fervid. "You ain't no Fleetwood Mac, especially with the cool looking guy in the Marilyn tee."

"You telling me I couldn't pass as the second cousin of John McVie?" James huffs out, his faux angry expression causing a grin to fully envelop your face.

"Absolutely not. Not even close." You respond through laughter, before bending down to pick up your overfilled bag. James quickly meets you halfway, his hand encircling around your wrist, before delicately gliding his ringed fingers down to yours and removing the bagged items from your grasp.

"Here, let me." He insists. "Which room is yours?"

"We don't even know each other's first names yet and you're already asking me for my room number?" You raise an eyebrow as he struggles for a rebuttal, the slip in his confident disposition making your lips twitch impossibly higher.

"James." He mutters, shaking his head at himself before grinning in disbelief. "What is it?" You ask, confusion painting your features as he laughs instead of answering. "Nothing you need to stress over, bell. Now how about you show me where your room is, before we both pass out from this heat and my bandmates order a search and rescue?"

"Your band! Oh God, do you think they're doing okay?" Head turning to readjust your view toward the crowd only a few handfuls of yards away, your eyes quickly latch onto three other outstanding men in the still growing pit of people. Nearly jumping as a large and calloused hand finds purchase on the low of your back, you're surprisingly quick to begin to relax as James' thumb rubs comforting circles into your now cooling down skin.

"They'll be just fine. We're all attention seeking anyway, comes with the job. Besides, I only ever came over here to see if you were doing alright." Your eyes widen in mortification as you quickly come to terms with the fact that he saw you nearly faceplant and run off only just a few minutes prior.

"Any way we can just pretend like that never happened?" You plead, leaning back into his touch to look up at him and send him a placating and disingenuous smile. James pats his palm against the skin of your natural arch before beaming down at you with a humor-filled, shit eating grin.

"Absolutely not."

✩

Robin's egg blue chipped paint stares back at you as you place the bags on the spinning chair near the entrance of your motel room, the crumpled keycard resting dangerously close on the edge of the clearly pre-used coffee table to your near right.

"She's a beauty, isn't she? I'm pretty sure your room is going to look the exact same, maybe a little bigger." You muse, your lips stuck up in a sore-to-be smile as you glance over at the musician frozen in the doorway.

"I don't know what I was expecting after seeing the vintage sign out front, but this surely wasn't it." James says slowly, his words coming out lazily as his eyes scan the small room in front of him. Flower embroidered bedsheets and blankets stand out on the bed, and a television the size of a toaster lies tilted atop a cracked, screwed in piece of metal plate shoved in the wall.

"You're missing the best part of it all, rockstar," You migrate his attention back to you as you slyly make your way over to the bed, before smacking your hand against the bedpost. "It vibrates. Exactly what you need after the long ride you just had."

"I think those beds vibrate for some other reason entirely, doll." Fingers reaching up to run their way through his facial hair, James hides an amused smile as you lag in place, before your expression turns uncharacteristically cheeky.

"A different type of ride then?" You ask him in a meek tone, watching in amusement as the man in front of you begins to sputter. "I think your roommates must be looking for you." Your eyes fill with mirth as he struggles to catch up with the quick change of subject before you.

Nodding to himself before physically shaking his head to get out of his stupor, James grips the middle of his nape and quickly averts his eyes as you walk your way back over to him. "Yeah, I bet they are."

"Thank you for being so kind to me, James." You whisper out, your short spell of cheekiness wearing off as you stand in front of the epitome of a man in front of you. Chain linked butterflies make their way and rattle through your ribcage as he reaches out to encircle his hand around your wrist once again.

"Thank you for making this town a whole lot more interesting, bell." Lifting your wrist up to his lips, he places a delicate kiss on your blush red fingertips before slowly letting go.

"You forgot one last thing. The best part of it all," Raising an eyebrow as he takes a step back, you watch him with unhidden interest as his eyes brighten with anew light. Digging into his pockets and flashing you three key cards, James sends you a gentle smile before heading on out. "Double sided doors. I'll see you later on, angel." He tosses to you in the humid air, his words nearly sounding muted as your attention quickly shifts to his full backside.

Your stomach tenses with anticipation as you watch him walk away, the awareness of the soreness of your wrists and physical exhaustion long gone while your heart incessantly pounds in your chest. Pushing your weight against the heavy door to fully close it shut and deadbolt it, you knew one thing for sure.

You couldn't wait to see him again, and you had an inkling that he felt the exact same way.

✩

"Why would you want the motel room farthest from the ice box and tour bus?" Lars asks his bandmate as he hesitantly places his weight on the creaking bed underneath him. James pointedly ignores him as he removes his hat to rest it on his knee, causing the unrelenting drummer to continue with his questioning. "Aren't you always the one wanting to hightail it out of towns like this once our location's been leaked? Southern fangirls are a different breed."

"Hell yeah, they are!" Jason agrees, his exclamation ending in a silent cry as the tip of his shoe harshly meets with an oddly bent piece of wood coming from a leg of the bed.

Kirk bites back a chortle as he watches their bassist hop around on one foot, before resting against the wall attached to the cubical sized bathroom. "Dane is right, usually you're always ready to run. What gives? Found a girl worthy enough to not bolt from a shit motel for once?"

"Maybe the eggshell paint and the obnoxiously large welcome signs are growing on me." James rebuts, oddly wanting to keep you to himself and no one else, especially from his occasionally overbearing bandmates and friends.

"It's Robin's egg, man. Everyone knows that." Jason breathes out in indignation once he stops jumping around, the hands he places on his hips being the only telltale sign of him being sarcastic. Rolling his eyes and shuffling back on his elbows to lean against the itchy fabric, James blindly kicks off one of his boots and grins wide as he hears a yelp.

"Fuck off, all of you. Y'all should be glad I'm taking the smallest room; the master is next door anyway. We can all still tear ass once the fans realize which rooms we're actually staying in."

Kirk lets out an audible shutter as he pushes himself off the ribbed wall and over to the double-sided doors. "I lost count of how many grandmas tried to grab my ass within the first five minutes of getting off the bus."

Lars cackles as he recounts the earlier events in his head, his entire upper half vibrating and lifting with the force of his amusement. "Old ladies out here grabbing at your ass like the first item they see on sale on Black Friday."

"Thanks for that mental image." Kirk mutters before unlatching the lock and making his way into the next room. "You brought it up first, man." A slim and long middle finger retreating behind its owner back is his only response to the blatant calling out, causing Lars to grin to himself before grabbing ahold of his duffle bag. Tossing it onto the coffee table and unzipping it open, the Dane reaches in and yanks out an oversized hoodie and jacket.

"See you fuck's later, I think I saw a bar down the road. Gonna go see if one of the roadies can distract the crowd long enough for me to get a Heineken in." Jason perks up at the sound of alcohol, his otherworldly and positive nature making James grin and fully relax back into the uneven springs beneath him. Looking over at the drummer with a pleading look in his eyes, Lars quickly relents and throws the jacket over to their bassist, who excitedly shoves his arms into the worn out sleeves.

"Try not to make headlines again, will you? I still feel guilty just thinking about Indianaoplis to this day. "

His bandmates share a knowing grin before they sling out halfhearted goodbyes over their shoulders and toss the hoodies over their heads, hurriedly make their way outside. James watches as they hastily tighten the drawstrings around their outerwear before slamming the door shut behind them.

The newly alone frontman makes sure their footsteps become inaudible before he sits up and makes eye contact with the door connected to yours. "Don't be such a pussy, it's only been a few hours." He scolds himself, before throwing caution to the wind and making his way over to the door, despite his inner turmoil and worry of coming off as too desperate and strong and reaching out too soon.

Raising an unsteady fist to the wooden door with a slight nervous tremor, James disproportionately knocks with his knuckles before taking a step back and placing his weight on the heels of his socked feet.

Instead of imitating a similar greeting in return, you instead undo the latch on your side and open the door to invite him in, your wide doe eyes staring up at him as he takes in your change of clothing. Heat rushes up to your cheeks as you wait for him to speak, your hands nervously twisting themselves together in front of you. You fight the urge to retreat as his eyes rake down your entire figure, seemingly trying to permanently encase the image of you in his mind. Thick and partially windblown hair pillows itself against your collarbones, the rest of it descending down the beginning of your spine and resting against the end of your sleep dress's straps. Gold silk shifts against your newly showered and softened skin and ends in lace around the middle of your partially naked thighs.

James punches out a deep breath as his eyes trail over and down your exposed and tantalizing skin, his fingers twitching with the urge to press themselves into you.

"I need you to tell me that this is wrong. That we should take our time and talk things out, since I'm sure we're both at least going to be in town for the next few days. Because if you don't, once I get into your room and I get my hands on you, I don't think I'll be able to stop until we're both finished and done for."

You silently prattle in your head about all the things that could possibly go wrong. The fact that he may be gone in the morning if his schedule changes, or the fact that he might just up and leave your room after you fall asleep instead, that this could simply be something temporary for him. That you could just be being used for his own pleasure. But as you watch the yellow tinged light of your bedside table's lamp illuminate the side of his face in the darkening natural light peering its way in through your partially opened blinds, you find yourself to not truly care. You knew deep down that this may be your one and only opportunity to get this close to him, in this very moment. And you were going to take full advantage of that.

"You said the double-sided doors are the best part of this place, right?" You start, the strong and steady tone you begin with quickly turning labored and overwrought as you feel his hungry and starved gaze weigh you down and hold you in place. "How about you take mine into consideration, and then we can make our way on over to yours?"

James stumbles over the jagged doorstep in haste before breaking out in a breathless huff of laughter at your words, his awaiting fingers coming up to lightly tug on the fabric covering your midsection to bring you even closer. Leaning down to rest his forehead against yours, James brings his free hand up to firmly cup it around the back of your neck and murmurs out before enrapturing you in a deep kiss.

"Fuck waiting."

✩

A gasp of laughter bubbles its way through your swollen lips as you're playfully pushed down onto the aged bed beneath you and your legs are yanked forward to rest against the outer edge. "Do you have any idea how I felt when I first saw you?" Rough and calloused hands teasingly raise the almost see through fabric of your dress up your thighs as James kneels in front of you. "A breath of fresh air compared to everyone else trying to run towards us, your fucking legs and those boots."

You shift your weight up to rest against the back of your arms and look down to try to and meet his eyes. A small thrum of a pulsation sensitizes your clit as you watch him slowly spread your thighs apart, a small patch of arousal bleeding through the cotton covering your sex as you watch him bring his face in between your legs.

"Your lips and the way you purse them when you're in a train of thought, makes me want to have you suck on my fingers while I eat you out." He roughs out, before placing a kiss on the inner side of your knee, the juxtaposition of the brash rub of his beard and his lips making you moan out in shock in the nearly quiet room.

The sound reverberates as James licks his lips at the sight of you getting wet, his cock already jumping in the tight confines of his jeans from the sight of you alone. "Your cunt's getting so wet for me already and I haven't even done anything to you yet. You feeling needy yet, doll? Need me to do something for you?"

You nod quickly, your eyes feeling heavy as his thumbs snag themselves against the softness of your inner legs to yank them open wide. A timorous feeling runs through you as the condensed and slowly cooling air blowing out from the AC unit creates goosebumps on your newly exposed skin, and you almost shy away from him as his eyes flick up to yours.

"Look at me, angel," James coos softly, his slightly condescending tone from earlier long gone. You're faced with a comforting smile on his bruising lips once you follow his request. "Good girl. It's just you and me in this room, alright? No one else gets to see you like this, just me. Be here with me and be present, baby. Let's make this last while we can. There's no need to be shy with me when I'm already fully hard in my pants from just kissing you and seeing you laid out for me like this."

You take in a deep breath as James begins to move once again, his mouth replacing his hands, which now climb their way up to your hips to hold them in place. Firm and wet kisses are placed unevenly on your now trembling thighs, your hesitancy now the least of your worries as he sucks a mark into your reddening skin. Back arching up from the mattress as the musician bites into you without any warning, you reach down to fist a handful of his hair in a silent rebuttal, your bitten skin stinging pleasantly.

James moans out against you instead, the vibration being so close to your pussy that it makes you cry out loud, your underwear starting to stick to you as you feel your folds begin to dampen with your arousal.

"Please, James. I need to feel you, want to cum on your tongue." You plead, the throbbing of your cunt becoming borderline painful as he continues to touch and suck and lick anywhere that isn't where you truly needed him. James grins against your skin as you plead and beg, before slowly making his way up to your awaiting sex and placing a teasing kiss to your swollen and clothed clit.

"Is this where you need me, bell? Need me to fuck you with my tongue, have you dripping down my chin as you cum all over me?" You open your mouth to respond, before widening into a gape as his heavy and hot tongue swipes against the cotton, the warmth of his mouth a stark contrast to the coldness of the room. James' eyes nearly close in ecstasy as your essence blankets his tastebuds, his cockhead leaking pathetically through the rough denim.

Using his teeth to move the soaked cotton to the side, James pulses forward to spontaneously caress the tip of his tongue against your opening, while his nose rubs insistently against your bud in tandem. "Oh God!" You scream out, your hips overpowering his hands holding you down and your left leg raising to wrap itself around his shoulder. "I'm sorry." You gasp, before grinding your hips up and fucking his face, bellowing out a chant of his name as his tongue slides into your hole.

Reaching down to grasp onto your right leg and place it onto his other shoulder, James replaces his tongue with an index and middle finger as he raises his head to harshly suck at your clit.

Your thighs begin to seize as you feel his facial hair indent itself into your skin, your thrusts turning wild and uncoordinated as he curls his fingers upward and brushes against your g-spot. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum." You whimper, tears springing to your eyes as the orgasm building in your groin begins to feel almost overwhelming.

Lifting his head to look up at you, James watches you with intense eyes as his fingers thrust into you relentlessly, his other hand coming down to pinch and rub at your swollen nub. "Cum for me baby, you can do it for me. Such a fucking good girl, making a mess of me." Slick glistens against his beard and runs down his thick neck, his nose soaking wet with your essence and his facial expression completely fucked out and hair disheveled.

James smirks as he feels your walls begin to erratically convulse around his fingers and places a soft kiss to your bruising skin, before fucking them into you at an even faster place. You gasp out an expletive and tremor as he roughly pushes his thumb against your clit and scissors his digits, your sudden release and the force of it causing you to bow and curl around the man pleasuring you. Tears stream down your cheeks while you simultaneously try to catch your breath, slowly beginning to come back to as James carefully lowers your legs and beckons you into his arms.

"You did so well, doll." He tells you as he encircles his arms around your trembling waist, careful not to have you rub against the rough fabric of the sheets covering the bed. "Took care of me so well." You rebut shakily, lifting your head up from his shoulder to begin a slow trail of kisses down his neck.

"You don't have to, baby. I'll be just fine." He tries to reassure you, but to no avail. Leaning back to look him in the eye, you sneakily raise your foot and press your toes into the large bulge almost bursting against the seams of his zipper. James groans out at the dizzying relief the pressure gives him, before his eyes snap open as you abruptly stop.

"Do you have any idea how I felt when I first saw you?" You ask him once you finally stabilize, his lips quirking up at the familiar sounding words despite of the sexual frustration he felt. James raises an eyebrow as you offer him a hand, but takes it, nonetheless. Tugging him on top of you once he's fully stood, James instinctively catches himself on his forearms before he could place all of his weight on you, his large thighs pressing you into the mattress. "I thought you were the most handsome man I've ever seen and met, with a personality to match. So gentlemanlike to walk me back to my room and make sure the room attached to mine would also be yours. With an ass so full, even a girl like me couldn't help but want to grab onto."

You grin victoriously to yourself as you watch a flustered expression grow on his face, before you gently guide him down into a fulfilling kiss. Allowing him to take the lead once you two find a synergistic rhythm, you moan into his wet heat as his tongue runs against the top of your mouth. Spit lines connect the two of you as you break apart, you licking your lips to collect it as your own before you motion for him to pull his shirt over his head. Reaching down to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans and briefs past the swell of his ass, your eyes widen as his hot length smacks against the top of your pubic bone.

"So, you're a big boy in more than one way, huh?" Lips stretching in a wide smile as his cock jumps in response and his face begins to flush even further, you teasingly and blindly run your index finger down his long shaft.

James lets out a resounding moan as you wrap your hand around his girth and stroke upwards, the amount of precum seeping down his length allowing it to be a comfortable slide. Pressing your thumb into his tip and reaching down to cup his balls in a firm grip, you whisper against him as he gasps out your name. "You going to let me make you feel good, help me make you cum inside of me?"

"Yes, baby. Want to push my seed inside of you as deep as it can go, want you to be sore and feel me stretching you out days later." James pants out against you, the veins in his dick pulsating wildly against your palm. Resting your head against the sheets below you and making sure to maintain eye contact, you position his tip to your entrance and raise your hips to slowly thrust his cockhead in. You both sharply inhale in unison, his cock stretching your walls open in a way you thought wasn't even possible.

James clenches his jaw shut, forcing himself not to move as you slowly shift yourself down his overly sensitive shaft. Your lips part in a silent cry as you bottom out, the overwhelmingly full feeling causing tears to swell in your eyes once again. "I swear, I can feel you in my stomach." You whisper out, your shaky exhale turning into a whine as James unintentionally moves forward and brushes against your cervix.

Lifting your legs to wrap them around the sweaty lower part of his back, your walls subconsciously tighten around him as you make yourself more comfortable. James grunts out above you before sliding his hands down to your waist and shifting his weight onto the backs of his thighs. Darkened blue eyes stare down at you with desperation, quietly pleading to move as their owner tenses up his shoulders with physical restraint.

"You can move." You murmur up at him, the tightening coil in your midsection threatening to snap and break apart as you watch his facial expression relax with relief. James' grip strengthens around you as he thrusts forward, his irises blown wide as your walls accommodate to the thick stretch of him and his movement. Gasping out as his thrusts begin to roughen and his ballsack begins to smack against the sensitive skin of your ass, you reach up to encircle your arms around his neck as his hips begin to push you up the bed.

"Just like that, just like that." You plead as the underside of his cock slides against your sponge-like spot, a gush of your slick pulsing out and steadily dripping down onto the ruined sheets beneath you.

"Fucking look at you, taking me so well," James moans out from above, his fingertips pressing bruises into your skin as he lifts your waist up from the bed. "Made for me to fuck into. So soaking wet for me." You flush red and scream out as he propels his dick even further inside of you, the bedpost noisily making contact with the chipping wall from the force of the drive of his hips.

Your thighs tremble around him as he begins to lift you up and down his cock, the sound becoming audible as you fall silent, your orgasm forcing you to quiet down. James curses out as he feels his balls raise and tighten, the orgasm coursing through you causing you to constrict around him. Whining out as you begin to feel overstimulated as he pistons himself into you and against every right spot, you try to shift back in his hold, before crying out as one of his hands slide down and makes contact with your asscheek.

"Don't run from me, baby. Thought you wanted to make me feel good, wanted to help me make you feel nice and sore for days after?" He taunts you, his grip holding you in place once again as he relentlessly fucks you deep into the creaking mattress underneath the two of you. "Take it like a good girl, like I know you know how to be."

You nod vehemently and hold onto him desperately and he has his way with you, despite the fact that you were barely holding on, so fucked out you felt like you couldn't even formulate a single thought or word as he impales you with a rough and irregular pattern. James lifts you up onto his lap as his thrusts begin to become shorter and harsher, his tip seemingly feeling like it was going past your cervix and straight into your uterus. James pants above you and lightly wraps his hand around your throat as your head lolls to the side, forcing you to look up at him with unfocused eyes.

"You're doing so good for me, bell. Just a little while longer, alright? Such a pretty mess, all for me." The praise goes straight to your head as you feel yourself come back down to earth as he sends you a satisfied grin, the sweat beading down his temples from the exertion making its way down his chin and landing on your breasts. You shiver as the cool air makes its way over to the droplets and dries them against your skin, the frigid air causing your nipples to harden and sensitize as they're brushed against James' chest.

"Cum for me," You moan out, swallowing thickly as his hand delicately tightens around your neck, the slight depravation of air making your voice sound breathy. "Making me feel so good, can't you feel it?" You tighten your walls around him with a clench, causing him to let out a whine on top of you, his chin leaning forward to rest against the top of your head as his cock begins to spurt its seed inside of you.

James' hand around your throat shakily slides back to your nape, his fingers twisting themselves in your hair for purchase and holding you in place as he steadily empties himself. You close your eyes in content as you feel his warmth fill you to the brim. Taking in a deep breath to ground himself, James gently untangles himself from you before wrapping his hands around your middle to lift you up.

"Not yet, still want to feel you." You protest weakly, leaning back in his grasp until he gets the hint to allow you to lie back on the soiled sheets and bedding. James nods and bends down to place a placating kiss on your lips before carefully flipping you over, situating you on top of him so your head can rest comfortably on his heaving upper half.

You close your eyes tiredly as you feel his calloused palm slide down your spine in a comforting manner, the rise and fall of his chest and erratic heartbeat almost lulling you to bed, before your eyes snap open at the sound of multiple heavy and drunken pairs of feet stumbling their way into the motel room right next to yours.

James looks over at the wall in horror as he realizes that in his haste to get over to you, he forgot to close and lock the double-sided door. You let out a yelp as he jolts up in a sitting position with you still on top of him, your hands scrambling to hold onto his shoulders as he yanks the sheets from underneath the two of you as a set of dazed eyes peep their way through the opening.

"Oh shit!" Jason yells out as he makes eye contact with you frozen on top of James, your bare breasts hanging out of the yanked down and almost torn sleep dress haphazardly draped around you. "Get the fuck out!" James screams back at him, throwing a pillow and narrowly missing the crown of his head as he quickly tucks the sheet around you.

"What the fuck is going on?" Lars slurs out, before letting out an embarrassingly high sound as his drunken bandmate slides back into the other room and tackles him onto the carpet. "Nothing, do not go in there, man!" James groans and drops his head back on the bed, one of his hands unwrapping from around you to reach up and rub at his eyes.

"I am so fucking sorry." James apologizes, before lifting his head to look at you, perplexed. Uncontrollable giggles pour out of you as you sit up and plop yourself between his legs, your hand clutching onto your stomach as your breath is stolen from you once again. James' lips raise at the joyous sound coming from you, before sitting up himself and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"Well, that's one way of meeting the rest of the band." You muse, humor heavy in your tone as you finally re-collect yourself and lean back against his bicep. James grins to himself before wrapping his arm around you and twisting you down back into bed, a laugh of his own filling the room as you let out a shocked squeak.

"Don't worry babe, you still haven't met Kirk yet." He reassures you, before descending down on top of you and kissing away the rest of the laughter that finds its way through your swollen and smiling lips.

Lars gives up underneath Jason as he realizes struggling against him is futile, the bassist easily overpowering him and pinning him down within the first few seconds. The Dane goes to open his mouth to spit out an insult, before freezing in place as a breathy, feminine laugh bleeds through the opening door and into their room.

"Is that a girl?" He asks, his lips spreading and forming into a wide grin as Jason unconvincingly responds with a "No!"

Lars shakes his head and lets out a drunken laugh as Jason rolls off of him and lies down next to him instead. The bassist closes his eyes in tired defeat, a partial amount of his curls landing on his friend's shoulder as Lars stares up at the stained ceiling with hilarity-filled eyes.

"James, you slimy bastard."

[falling-star-cygnus]

❗4GGRAVATE NATION❗ come get y'all's food, i have another headcanon :D [semi-supported by canon, once again]

anyway, i was rewatching Alhaitham's trailer bc of a fanfic i read, and i realized that he's probably the most flexible out of all of them. -> think about it:

Tighnari and Kaveh both use weapons that require a lot of arm strength [even if Kaveh levitates his with Mehrak, he's still got those creaky old man artist joints] which somewhat limits the range of motion in the shoulder area that doesn't nix Tighnari from being quick on his feet, just for the record, i am aware of his acrobatic abilities. But a lot of his gameplay is focused on footwork and jumping

Cyno, on the other hand, despite having a weapon that allows for more of a lithe build- fights like a claymore user. He's a very heavy hitter, and his attacks focus more on relentless force rather than the precision of other polearm characters which is kinda cool if you look back at Kaveh, who DOES fight with precision despite having a claymore

and then you have Alhaitham, who in his original gameplay would arc almost completely into the splits to kick his sword down [i'm still so distraught that they lowered his leg, BRING IT BACK-] it is impressive that he can kick his sword whilst in a mid-air flip though, and still maintains a very aerial style of combat -> also, he can teleport- why don't more people talk about that?

Kaveh comes home to find Alhaitham sitting on their divan, reading one of his books like usual His hands are full of blueprints, with his charcoal balanced precariously on top, but he manages to close the door and start towards his room to set his stuff down. The charcoal hits the ground Alhaitham, glancing down at it: ...hm? Kaveh, pausing; ah- shit, Alhaitham can you grab that for me? My hands are full. Alhaitham, looking back down at his book: Yes, I can see that. Regardless of his 'disinterest', he shifts as if to stand up. And then doesn't. Alhaitham arches over the backrest of the divan to pat at the floor until his fingers brush the charcoal. He places it back onto Kaveh's stack and settles back into his book Kaveh: ....you could have just stood up- Alhaitham: I could've not grabbed it at all.

Cyno and Alhaitham get caught up in a fight with some Eremites on their way back from a ruin exploration or smth [idk i have a headache] It's a pretty evenly matched battle for most of it, but one of them manages to pin Alhaitham with his blade. Cyno makes to help him, but is quickly blocked by another enemy Cyno, scowling: Alhaitham-! The scribe dismisses his blade in a flurry of golden sparks, only to wrap his thighs around his foe's neck and twist to have the advantage- now having the Eremite pinned, he resummons his weapon Both Cyno and his opponent freeze mid-clash Cyno's Enemy: ...you wish that was you, huh- The general mahamatra attacks twice as viciously

Alhaitham had gone to Tighnari for some minor medical assistance, having been closer to him than the Birmastan [and also just generally not trust it more than his friend] Tighnari had suggested that he rest a little bit before heading back home, to which the scribe easily agreed and settled down on his friend's couch for small nap When the fox goes to wake him before it gets too late to safely travel back, Alhaitham blearily stretches backwards over the armrest until he's nearly in half- sighing a little as it works out a few kinks in the small of his back Tighnari blatantly stares Alhaitham, pausing as he works his boots back on: ...Everything ok? The fox covers the lower part of his face and offers no more than a thumbs up

[rollinouttahere-writes]

Could i request G, I, L, O, and U for Mihawk with the alphabet please? I love your takes on these characters.

Aww, thank you!

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

His love for you isn't a game, but by god does he love the thrill of a good hunt. His darling being feisty is ideal for him. With his dream already being well achieved, he's honestly quite bored in his day to day life. Terrorizing random pirates that irk him in one way or another only entertains him so much. He needs something with real substance, and that comes in the form of playing a cat and mouse game with you (he frequently calls you his little mouse as a term of endearment and slight teasing jab).

Fighting back against him and running away is an extremely frustrating process, and not just because of how unsuccessful it is. No, it's his attitude that drives you up the wall. He keeps giving you critiques and pointers. You tried to run while he slept? He's admonishing you for not even trying to drug or poison him. You tried to fight him? He's correcting your stance, your hold on the weapon, and your technique the entire time. You made some elaborate escape plan? He calls it cliche and says that he knows you can do better than that. All of this combined almost makes you want to throw in the towel and sit quietly in his castle just to spite him.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

While he adores the fun of you running away and fighting him, he does hope that you'll settle down and come to love him eventually. Even then, he still wants you to be a little feisty. Like having some playfully sharp banter and doing little things to get a rise out of each other. Think like a somewhat vitriolic spin on a Morticia and Gomez Addams type relationship.

Outside of that, he wants to have a quaint life with you in his castle. He'd also like to teach you how to fight with a sword because he does want you to be self sufficient to a degree, plus he considers it to be a fun bonding activity. Once you've calmed down, he plans to marry you. The rings will be uniquely gothic yet simple, and you'll have a quiet ceremony in his garden... At least it was quiet until Shanks and company showed up because they someone caught wind of this despite Mihawk's best effort.

Mihawk isn't super interested in children, but he doesn't hate the idea either. On one hand, he thinks that Perona's spontaneous appearances are enough, but if you two were to have a surprise baby or some kid washed up on shore, he wouldn't be upset about it.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

In hindsight, it's a little embarrassing how easily he drew you in. Mihawk is an attractive and charming man. The first interactions are short and sweet. They give you a taste while still maintaining an air of mystery. He gives you little gifts, like an article of clothing that he thought would suit you or some well-aged wine that he made himself. After that stage, he offers for you to come have dinner at his home. At that point, he's been a suave gentleman, so you see no reason to turn down him. What you don't realize is that he has no intention of letting you leave once you're there. That will be an after dinner surprise for you.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

Beyond trapping you on his island, you're pretty much free to do whatever your heart desires. He won't even disarm you because as mentioned in G, he loves a good fight. On top of that, he won't force you to do anything with him besides just staying on the island. If you two kiss, it's only going to be because you initiated it. He wants you to want him, and he also admittedly gets a kick out of how annoyed you are when you start to want him due to him being one of the very few people you ever get to interact with. He won't harm you either because he simply finds no reason to. It's not like you're going to be any real threat to him, so hurting you would be like a hunter giving a handicap to a baby deer.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

A few things: He enjoys your fighting and escape attempts, he's shockingly respectful of some of your boundaries, and he isn't prone to jealousy.

[victoria-daydreams]

Compliments to the Chef

AN: It's here people! I floated the idea and you all demanded it be written. Don't care if there's any inaccuracies about fine dining culture or rules, we're all here for Chef Luca. If you commented on my original post I went ahead and tagged you. I wrote this on my phone because I'm on vacation so excuse any typos or errors.

Taglist: @chiddybangchiddy @emjayewrites @ay0nha @adorabubblesblog @ayoarticulate @blowmymbackout

Word Count: 4.4k

Prompt: Thinking thoughts about writing a fic with Chef Luca from The Bear involving an black!oc/black!reader on a study abroad trip in Copenhagen and them falling for each other.

"How do you even function in this weather?"

The coldness of December in Copenhagen could be quite unbearable at times. In her thick peacoat, Dannie shivered as snow gently fell to the ground in large, fluffy clusters. The tingle of cold air on her golden brown skin felt as if someone was jabbing needles all over her body. It was an unfathomably cold evening and Dannie began to wonder if this outing was worth it.

Aya, a native to the country, only laughed and tugged at the thick knitted scarf around her neck. "You want my scarf?" she questioned, smirking at the American.

Glancing at her friend, red-cheeked from the cold, with snow falling in her dark, springy curls, Dannie shook her head.

"Don't think that will change me freezing my ass off," Dannie retorted, wrapping her arms around herself, trying to maintain some warmth.

Aya laughed again in response, "Come on, we're almost there," she said, linking her arm with Dannie.

Dannie's teeth clattered as the cold wind continued to permeate her coat and her wool sweater. Stiffly, she walked with Aya, her shoes crunching loudly against the snowy cobblestones underfoot. Despite the frigid temperature and the feeling of being frozen to the bone, it was beautiful day in the capital of Denmark. As far as the eye could see, picturesque buildings lined the streets in colorful rows. The vibrant colors of the architecture reminded Dannie of cakes and other tasty pastries. The two women passed by cafes which littered the narrow streets of the snowy city, filled with tourists and locals of all ethnicities and nationalities.

Finally, they arrived at the restaurant, its name written in Danish. Savory scents and muted conversations greeted Dannie as Aya spoke with the host about her reservation. Without a doubt, this was the most expensive restaurant she'd ever been to in her life just based off the interior. After taking their coats, the host showed Aya and Dannie to their table, which offered a splendid view of Copenhagen. A glass of water was poured for her followed by a menu being placed into her hands. Browsing the menu, Dannie's eyes nearly bulged at the prices of dessert alone.

"Aya, why does a desert cost damn near an arm and a leg?" Dannie asked, her brows raising in disbelief.

"Because it’s 'fine dining'," Aya explained simply. "Don't stress about prices tonight," she reassured, with a dismissive hand wave. "It's your birthday, I'm treating you remember?" she reminded.

"Aya, I love you, but I'm helping you pay for this," Dannie stated firmly, placing her hand over her heart. "I refuse to let you break your bank account over a tiny portion of food and dessert," she added jokingly.

"Aya?" a British voice called.

Dannie's eyes flitted over Aya's shoulder to see man dressed in a fitted navy blue shirt and black slacks with a black apron tied around his neck. Aya turned in her chair, her face lighting in recognition.

"Luka! Hej!" she exclaimed, waving him over.

Approaching their table, Dannie realized that this Luca was nothing short of a heartthrob. Strikingly warm blue eyes, tousled blond hair, and not to mention his wide and undeniably strong frame.

"It is so good to see you here again!" Luca said, smiling at her.

Playfully she rolled her eyes, "You don’t know how long I remained on the waiting list to eat here again," she quipped, standing up to give him a quick hug.

"I see you brought a friend this time," he noted, as Aya pulled away from him.

"Yes! This is Dannie, she's studying abroad here and today is her 26th birthday, so we're celebrating!" Aya introduced excitedly. "Dannie, this is Luca, my chef friend I've been telling you so much about!" she said, gesturing towards him.

Dannie gave him a shy smile and offered her hand to shake as Aya sat down.

"A pleasure to meet you Luca, I’ve heard so much about you," Dannie said, her voice laced with the warm southern twang she was born with.

"First, a happy birthday is in order, I cannot think of a better place to attend for such a special occasion," he responded, mirroring her smile. "And hopefully Aya here has only been saying good things," he joked, glancing at her before reaching for Dannie's hand.

The moment their hands brushed against each other, Dannie felt Luca slightly jump at the sensation.

"Good god, your hands are freezing," Luca commented, letting out a chuckle and moving his right hand to the other side of hers. "You need a warm drink in you," he said, in that thick accent of his sending a shiver down her spine.

"Well, I wouldn’t mind a hot chocolate, if a fine dining establishment like this can manage it?" Dannie suggested, enjoying the heat from his hands engulfing her own.

Luca's mouth curled upward and nodded, "Yeah, I think I can manage that just fine," he assured, rubbing small circles against her skin. "I'm sure the kitchen has everything I need for this special request," he informed. "Anything for you—as friend of Aya's," he added quickly.

If Dannie’s was not mistaken, there was a hint of red he saw on the man's lightly freckled cheeks.

"I will be sure to get that out you, Dannie," he promised.

"Thank you Chef Luca,"

Reluctantly, Dannie pulled her hand from his grasp. Silence lingered between them for a moment and blue eyes stared unblinking into dark brown eyes. His intense eyes sent another pleasurable shiver down Dannie’s spine. That look…God, it made the temperature in the room increase by at least five degrees. Aya sharply cleared her throat, snapping them from their heated gaze.

"Right," Luca began, clearing his throat himself. "One hot chocolate coming right up for the birthday girl," he said, with a grin before leaving for the kitchen.

Dannie watched his form retreat. Luca went to rub the back of his neck, clearly feeling sheepish. Three quick snaps drew Dannie’s attention back in front of her to Aya grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Girllll," Aya sung, her eyebrows raised high. "What was that?" she asked, leaning her body forward. "Did I just inadvertently play matchmaker? Is this love at the first sight?" she questioned.

"Listen, it may not be love at first sight, but…” Dannie answered, taking both of Aya's hand. "The spirit of Tamera has fully possessed my body!" she joked, causing both of them to quietly squeal together and lightly stomp their feet on the floor.

~~~x~~~

An hour later

"This has been one of the best meals I have ever tasted in my entire life," Dannie stated, dabbing the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

Aya hummed in agreement, "Including the specially made hot chocolate?" she asked teasingly, wriggling her eyebrows.

"Yes, the hot chocolate too," Dannie agreed with exasperation, rolling her eyes and laughing.

"Maybe we should send our compliments to the chef, personally," Aya suggested, a mischievous expression on her face.

"No!" Dannie whispered, her face growing hot at the mere thought of Luca coming back to the table.

"Why the fuck not?" she whispered back. "You two were practically eye fucking each other in front of me earlier," she pointed out.

"Okay, but—"

"Excuse me," Aya called, cutting Dannie off and a maître d' promptly was at their table. "The dessert was absolutely phenomenal. My friend here would like to personally send her compliments to the chef who made it," she explained, a barely hidden smirk on her lips.

"Of course, ma'am,"

Feeling utterly mortified, Dannie had taken to hiding her face behind her hand.

"Why would you do that?" Dannie asked, her hand sliding down to cover half her mouth.

"Come on, you’ll thank me later," Aya dismissed, picking up her wine glass. "You and Luca would be such a hot couple together," she said, before sipping her dry red.

"Really?" Dannie asked skeptically.

"Yes bitch!" Aya responded, almost in disbelief she had to answer that.

Dannie grabbed her own wine glass and raised it to her lips, thinking of Luca. His warm demeanor was definitely an attractive trait, as well as his prowess in baking such delicious treats. Any woman with a pulse will find that trait irresistible in a man.

"I was told I've been summoned,"

The sound of a British accent instantly snapped from Dannie from her musings and straighten up her posture. Looking up, Luca was at their table and smiling at the two of them, his hands folded behind his back.

"Yes, hello Chef Luca!" Aya greeted, with a knowing grin. "The dessert was to die for!" she complimented. "Dannie and I just had to tell you in person. Right Dannie?" she asked, nodding encouragingly.

"Everything was superb, Chef Luca," Dannie agreed, "Thank you,"

"You're very welcome and thank you. I'm so glad you enjoyed it," he said.

"Before you go Luca, could you tell the maître d we're ready for the check?" Aya said.

"Ah, yes the check," he replied. "I already have it here," he informed, unfolding his arms and giving the little black book to Dannie.

Opening the book, let out a small gasp of surprise. The receipt showed a balance of zero.

"Are you kidding me?" Dannie asked, glancing back up at him.

"The chef heard it's your first time in Copenhagen, wanted to make this an unforgettable experience," Luca explained.

"Job well done, I'll say," Dannie retorted, chuckling a little. "I fear wherever I go next in Copenhagen nothing will hold a candle to this,"

"Well, I know my way around the city pretty well," Luca began. "I can show you some spots that will blow you away, if you’ll let me," he offered, smiling shyly.

Dannie nodded vigorously with a smile, "That would be amazing, Luca. Thank you," she said, mindlessly playing with her ginger dyed hair.

Luca’a face seemed to brighten and a faint blush starting to cross his cheeks, "Saturday?" he questioned.

Dannie took the pen from the checkbook and wrote her phone number on the receipt.

"Saturday,"

~~~x~~~

Saturday

Dannie loved farmers markets. There was always just a magical feel when she visited one. Now, compound that with the fact that she was in a different country during Christmastime and she might as well been in Winter Wonderland. Above, the sun shone uninhibited in a perfect, cloudless blue sky. With a gentle breeze, snow from the ground and buildings swirled past Dannie as tiny crystals. She could not envision a more perfect day for a first date.

"I think you're a mind reader Luca," Dannie said, stealing a glance at him. "I absolutely adore farmers markets," she informed, with a smile.

"I promised I'd show you the best spots in the city, didn't I?" he reminded, their arms brushing against each other as they walked side by side.

She nodded, "You did," she agreed. "Keeping promises, a good quality to possess. I like that in a man," she stated, their arms brushing again.

Luca smirked, "Noted," he said, smoothly lacing his fingers with hers.

Dannie’s heart fluttered, her chest blossoming with warmth. She could've just melted right into a puddle at that very moment. They made their way deeper into the busy market, walking through the narrow lane as the mouthwatering aroma of roasted chestnuts and mulled wine was soon thick in the air.

Along a few connecting streets, each road was dedicated to different vendors. One street was filled with paintings and handmade jewelry. Another street had fresh produce and jams. While a different different part of the market was selling hot food based on scent alone from how strong it was.

"You know," Luca began. "Aya said you were studying abroad, but you never said what for," he said.

She chuckled, "You're right, we knew you were needed in the kitchen, so our conversation was pretty limited," Dannie recalled, with a nod. "History, that’s what's I’m here. I’m a history major,"

"Ooh, not my best subject," he mentioned, laughing lightly. "History class use to always put me to sleep," he joked.

"Why does everyone say that!" Dannie exclaimed lightly, laughing a little. "You mean to tell me there was never a time period you learned about and just became obsessed with it?" she asked,

"I became obsessed with baking at a young age," he answered. "You, on the other hand, are a true history buff. I can tell just by how excited you’re getting," he stated. "So, tell me, what are your favorite periods to study?" he asked.

"It’s World War I followed by the Roaring 20s, then World War II, lastly the 50s and 60s," Dannie listed, using her free hand to count them off. "I dabble in The Gilded Age as well," she added, shrugging her shoulders. "I don't know something within me just gravitated to those periods the moment I learned about them in school. I think it’s mainly the aesthetics, fashion, and music," she explained, smiling softly. "To be clear though, I would never want to live through those eras. The world is hostile enough to Black people as it is. I can hardly imagine what it was like back then," she finished, raising a finger.

When Luca didn't reply after a beat, Dannie began to internally panic thinking she said something wrong.

"Oh no, did I kill the vibe?" Dannie asked, with a horrified expression. "I swear every time I speak about my love of history it always somehow results in vibe killing,"

"No, no," Luca reassured. "I'm just admiring how cute you are nerding out over history, I do the same when it comes to cooking," he explained, with a grin.

"Well, join me in my cuteness and tell me what made you nerd out over cooking," Dannie said, playfully bumping his shoulder.

"I fear the amount of time that would take would consume our whole date," Luca joked.

"And I want to hear every second of it," Dannie said. "I'm dying to know how the man next to me became the esteemed Chef Luca,"

"Alright, you asked for it," he said, letting out a chuckle.

Listening with her full attention, Dannie learned from Luca how at a very young age he’s always had a passion for cooking and because of that he was able to hone in on his skills. Of course, this led to Luca thinking he was ‘the shit’ by the time he got to culinary school, carrying a major chip on his shoulder. That chip stayed him as he progressed into his career until he was unintentionally humbled by another chef after witnessing their skills in the kitchen. Without working with this chef, Luca swears he would not be where he is now had it not been from him.

"So, a slice of humble pie did the trick, huh?" Dannie concluded, her tone teasing.

"Yeah, yeah it did," Luca admitted, laughing and nodding his head. "You can either choose to accept it or deny it. Luckily, I accepted it and changed the course of my career," he went on.

They crossed into the main of the market, stumbling upon the Christmas market . The massive space was filled with all sorts of food vendors, stalls, vendor kiosks, and there was even a petting zoo with a variety of farm animals. At the center of it all, a gigantic Christmas tree stood, towering above everything in the square. The freshly cut pine tree was covered in lights, garland, and ornate ornaments.

"This will always be my favorite time of the year," Dannie sighed wistfully, admiring the lights and decorations around them.

"I remember spending my first Christmas here in Copenhagen," Luca mentioned. "It felt like I was in a movie," he added.

"If it snows on Christmas Day, that would just put the icing on top of the cake,"

He turned to look at her, "You know what, an idea just popped into my head,"

"What?"

"Has anyone ever made you dessert from scratch?"

"Yeah, some family members of mine, but never like a romantic partner or anything like that," she answered, and the realization dawned on her. "Wait—are you offering to do that for me?"

"I am," he nodded. "You mentioned cake and the gears in my mind started turning," hestated. "Plus, all the ingredients I would need are all around me,"

"Making a girl feel special, that must be your superpower Luca," Dannie joked.

“Not just any girl. I like to make you, feel special Dannie,” he corrected, squeezing her hand.

She giggled, "If you’re making dessert from scratch, chances are I won’t be able to enjoy the fruits of your labor tonight,"

"Guess you'll have to come back to my place again tomorrow then," Luca suggested, smirking slightly. "Come on," he said, leading her the nearest stall.

For the next thirty minutes, Dannie and Luca shopped at the farmers market, grabbing everything necessary for the surprise dessert Luca was going to make. Instead of the usual 'divide and conquer' tactic, they remained together, tackling neighboring stalls at the same time. After two laps around the market, Dannie and Luca were at there final stalls. Luca was at a strawberry vendor a few stalls down, while Dannie waited at a honey seller’s. Shifting the weight between her feet, Dannie could feel her feet start to grow tired from walking. Another minute passed before the older woman handed her the jar of honey with a smile.

"Is there anything else you and your boyfriend are interested in purchasing?" the older woman questioned, still wearing a kind smile.

Boyfriend. The term nearly makes her choke on her water she was drinking.

"Oh no, we’re not—" Dannie began, but stopped herself. "Thank you for the honey, ma'am," she finished, nodding her head and placing it in her canvas tote bag.

Not soon after, Luca appeared next to her carrying his own bag of groceries. Automatically, his hand came to rest on her lower back.

"Do we everything we need?" he asked.

"I believe so," Dannie replied, with a nod. "Can't wait for you to wow me again in a more intimate setting this time,"

"I aim to please, love,"

"A fucking pet name? Pick me up from the goddamn floor!" Dannie thought.

Grinning, she linked her arm with his, "Next time, instead you baking for me, I want to be apart of the baking process," Dannie informed.

"You’re already planning for a next time?" he questioned, arching his brow.

"Of course, do you know how rare it is to find a man who has a passion for baking?" she quipped, raising an eyebrow of her own.

"Back to my place?"

"Lead the way," Dannie encouraged, and Luca guided her out the farmers market

~~~x~~~

"I cannot wait to eat this cheesecake," Dannie said, leaning back on the counter and crossing her arms. "Too bad I have to wait until tomorrow to get a slice," she pouted playfully.

"We can have a slice of it over afternoon tea," Luca suggested, carefully placing the cheesecake into the refrigerator.

Dannie rolled her eyes, "Ugh, god you’re so disgustingly British," she teased.

He closed the door to the fridge, "Hey, don’t knock it until you try it," he retorted, pointing the tip of the wine bottle at her that he grabbed.

"I'll have you know, my drink of choice is a strong coffee," Dannie informed, lightly digging her index finger into his pec. It took everything in her to keep a straight face feeling the firmness of the muscle. "Not black coffee though, I'm not a serial killer," she clarified, laughing lightly which he shared. "But because you're so cute, I'm willing to try it for you," Dannie conceded, booping the tip of his nose.

"You'll thank me for expanding your palette," he quipped, causing her to roll her eyes again. "If you would be so kind to get the glasses, love,"

"Since you asked so nicely," Dannie said, moving over to the overhead cupboard.

Grabbing two wine glass, she turned back around just in time to get a perfect view of Luca's back. His shirt was just tight enough that she could watch the flex of Luca's muscles in his biceps and shoulders underneath the fabric.

"So goddamn strong," Dannie thought. "I wonder what it would feel like to have that grip around my hips or my ne—"

The cork escaped the bottle's hold with an echoing pop, snapping Dannie from her impure thoughts.

"You okay back there?" Luca asked.

She cleared her throat, "Yeah, totally," she answered, finally walking back over. "I didn't want to startle you as you opened the wine," she explained, placing the glasses down.

Filling both glasses, Luca handed her a glass first and then picked up his own.

"Cheers," Luca said, tilting his glass.

"Cheers," Dannie echoed, clinking their glasses together and sipping their wine in unison.

Lowering his glass, Luca’s gaze fell back on Dannie.

"After our afternoon tea and cheesecake, how would you feel going to the National Gallery of Denmark with me?" she wondered, swirling her wine around in one hand while the other reached for a blueberry left over in a bowl.

"I would love that,"

"It’s a date then," Dannie smiled, dipping the berry into the bowl of whipped cream and popping it into her mouth.

Pure bliss swept over her face at the sweet and tangy flavor flooding her taste buds.

"Fuck that was so good," Dannie laughed, shaking her head when Luca leaned in towards her. She swallowed. "Luca?" she asked, suddenly finding it difficult to breathe.

"Sorry, you…you got a little something…" he trailed off. "Right," he continued softly, reaching out with his thumb and gently wiping leftover whipped cream from the corner of her mouth. His thumb drew across her bottom lip. "There," he finished, dragging her lips apart slightly.

Dannie couldn't move from her spot, and from the looks neither could Luca.

"Silly me, I’m such a slob," she said, the words coming out in one soft breath.

He removed his thumb from her lips, "No, you’re fine," Luca responded, before bringing his glass back to his mouth and quickly downing the rest of his drink. Clearing his throat, he placed the cup back down on the counter. "It might not be the cheesecake, but might I offer you the best strawberry you'll ever eat?" he asked, regaining his usual warm demeanor.

Dannie smirked, throwing back the rest of her wine as well, "You may, since you forbade me from eating any earlier," she reminded, putting her glass down.

Luca grinned, plucking a freshly washed strawberry from the bowl and gently pressed it against Dannie's lips. The move caused a giggle to bubble within her chest and her face to flush with heat. Opening her mouth, Dannie bit down into the perfectly proportioned fruit in Luca's fingers which moved a little. The sweet juices filled her mouth, a drop of it escaping from a corner of her lips.

"How was that?" he asked, a cheeky smile on his face.

"Mmm," Dannie hummed in satisfaction, closing her eyes and nodding. She waited a moment after swallowing her first bite, still relishing the nectar of the fruit, before speaking. "Certainly the juiciest strawberry I've ever eaten," she responded, wiping the corners of her mouth with the back of her finger. "You flinched slightly when I bit into it," she pointed out, making Luca chuckle.

"I was hoping you wouldn’t notice,"

"Don't worry, I don’t bite..." Dannie promised, her voice dropping a pitch. Instantly, Luca's cheeks flared red at her words. "Unless, you want me to," she teased, and leaned forward to bite into the remaining strawberry.

"Fuck me..." Luca breathed.

Smiling coyly, Dannie turned her back to Luca and started to walk over to the living room. Suddenly, a pair of warm, strong hands gripped her waist and spun her back around. Luca's face was expressionless, but his pupils had darkened considerably and flickered over her face. Dannie met his stare through hooded eyes, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. The tension between them was palpable and it hung thick, making the soft and shallow breaths from both of them more pronounced. Luca ran his hand across her lower back before pulling her closer, dipping his head towards her.

The little space remaining between the two sent Dannie's heartbeat into overdrive. Their faces were barely an inch from each other. Her eyes dropped to his lips, slowly making their way back up her his by way of his jawline. It was as if a dam broke. Within a blink of the eye, Luca pressed his mouth against Dannie's. Inhaling sharply, any and all thoughts flew from her head at the feeling of his lips. Dannie softly moaned into the kiss, her eyes closing while her fingers found their way to grip on Luca's blond locks. Eagerly, she returned the kiss as he walked her back until her lower back was pressed into the edge of the granite countertop.

"God, you're so beautiful," he huffed out before leaning back down to kiss her roughly.

Luca's palms slipped beneath Dannie's sweater to glide across her warm skin, his lips nipping hungrily at her lower lip. Only heavy breathing and the smacking of lips filled the air of the kitchen. With practiced ease, Luca wedged his leg between her own while his left hand skirted around her midsection until it he hooked her leg around his hip. Dannie's hands gently made their way to unbutton Luca's shirt, finally being able to fully appreciate the taut muscles underneath her fingers.

Another moan fell from Dannie, this one breathier than before. His body responded, grounding himself into her. Moving his mouth to the corner of hers, Luca's lips trailed down her neck, peppering open mouthed kisses down her jaw and neck. Dannie could only pant his name in quick, short gasps.

"Luca…Luca…." she breathed, her head thrown back.

Slowly, he drew back from her, forcing Dannie to open her eyes and lift her head up. Staring into his smoldering eyes, Dannie was mesmerized by the flush that stained Luca’s cheeks and neck, not to mention his swollen lips. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers, both their breathing labored.She felt herself chasing his lips as he withdrew. Luca wrapped his arms around her thighs and effortlessly lifted her onto the cool countertop.

"You're too good at this," Dannie commented breathlessly, before capturing his lips in another slow, languid kiss. "I bet there has been many girls in this same position," she suggested, kissing him again while her hands busied themselves with undoing his belt.

"Not on the island darling," he whispered, running his tongue along the slope of where her neck curved into her shoulder, making her shudder uncontrollably.

"No one has had the pleasure of christening this?" Dannie questioned, slowly dragging her legs up to wrap around his waist.

"Until now, no," Luca answered, his face retreating from her neck. "Would you like to do the honors?" he asked, smirking at her.

Her legs tightened around his hips, "Yes Chef,"

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Heart Killers time, woot woot!

I do have to say, watching what's happening with Jack & Joker right now, I hope people are not letting their expectations get ahead of them with this one either... though I know that's probably a futile wish. Expectation is such a thief of joy, y'all.

Anyway, my only expectation in this is I will have a good time, so let's do it!

How this man doesn't just expire from Bison doing this to him, I have no idea.

Oh, this line. Jojo knows us so well.

Ooh, we're having a black vs red debate!

In Bison's defense, he looks really good in red.

Something cracks me up about Kant looking for hookups at the bowling alley. Is that really good hunting ground? Maybe in Thailand? Definitely not in the U.S.

Oh Jojo, you bad, bad man.

I am gonna get full on obsessed with Dunk's tummy, aren't I?

Also just realizing how much of this show I am going to spend thinking how good the pairings of FirstDunk & JoongKhaotung could be...

Lolol, target acquired!

Ha, this is so me when a man tries to tell me what to do.

I like Bison being all "if you wanna fuck me, just say so". We have a very direct man here.

Nooooo, Style don't be a stupid driver.

I was not expecting an early Fadel/Style meetup! See, it's fate.

Way to make a horrible first impression Style! But I am loving how their dynamics are. Fadel is such a tight ass, it's gonna be great when he cracks.

Quite a first time scene for our boys! And people say GMMTV is gonna tamp down the gay, lololol.

Also can we take a moment to admire this shot? The red, the mirrors, there's a lot going on here. Beautiful.

I like that the burger uniforms are a mix of Fadel & Bison colorwise.

I also think it's hilarious that Fadel ordered black plastic gloves to maintain his aesthetic.

Omg, I am dying that Bison shot a gun at karaoke. He's a little disaster.

Hmmmm, mother? Interesting...

Ooh, silver fox alert!

Always appreciate some eye candy for us older fans.

Ah, of course the cop is a manipulative jerk. Hot, but a jerk.

Ain't this just a mood.

Heh, when the man you just had mind-blowing sex with turns out to be an assassin you have to stalk. If I had a nickel...

Oh, I think Style is gonna be my favorite. Dumb and chaotic.

As much as I enjoy a height difference couple, there is something about two men who are the exact same height...

Also love the black & white - because they are opposites!

Wait...does Bison not know how to cook burgers? Did... did he just put the raw patty on the board they use to chop veggies? Am I going to get stressed about food safety in this action romcom?!

I like that Fadel has this subtle air of general menace about him.

Aaaaah, bashful Bison is so cute!!!!! "Take me out...nooooo...really?"

This boy desperately wants to be loved. My heart.

Style is a slutty menace and I love him!

I also love that they are establishing the attraction is there before the deal gets made.

Ah, I was wondering if Kant was a philosophical reference!

Does Jojo have a "First eating burgers" fetish? That's been two extreme closeups in one episode. Just sayin'.

"Crazy and bold" is pretty spot on for Style!

Oh don't try to complain Style, you know you want him.

Ok, the yellow & purple... Are these their real colors, or the ones hiding their real colors as they embark on their mission?

Another costuming note - both Kant & Style had sunglasses as part of their outfits when they started their lying... love that little detail.

Good lord, that many beers and I'd be peeing every two minutes.

Oh! Fadel figuring out they're friends already! What a twist!

This was so much fun!

[mirai-e-jump]

Monthly The Television, August 2024 Summer Special ft. Iuchi Haruhi Interview (translation below)

Publication June 26, 2024

Fresh sensibility and will

Iuchi Haruhi made his leading role debut in the Super Sentai series "Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger." In this interview, including a filming story for the movie set to be released this Summer, we'll report on how he made his debut as an actor, stories from before his debut, and more, as we get a fresh and energetic look at his true self.

-The tokusatsu hero admirer will make his silver screen debut this Summer-

"Iuchi Haruhi made his leading role debut as the leader in the currently airing Super Sentai series Bakuage Sentai Boonboomger. He plays the role of the Boonboomgers leader and "deliverer" named Taiya Hando."

Iuchi: When I heard the decision that I'd be appearing, I was wondering when they'd reveal that it was all a prank (laughs). That's why my first thought was, "I can't believe it." Personally, I still remember the hero shows I used to watch when I was little, so I was anxious about whether I could really handle it. Still, once the show actually started airing, I received alot of calls from my friends saying, "We're watching!" It made me happy, and now I actually feel that I'm apart of Super Sentai.

"As you performed, you found similarities with Taiya and points you could learn from him."

Iuchi: Taiya's someone who has his own views and mentality, which I think are similar to my own. However, in my case, I have the type of personality where I don't hesitate once I've made up my mind to do something "in this way." Still, while maintaining that strong mentality, Taiya listens to other people's opinions and never rejects them without giving them a chance to explain. I think that kind of flexibility is what makes Taiya so appealing, and it's also what I like about him. I want to be as flexible as Taiya someday, and I'd like to think that I'm improving little by little as I perform (laughs).

"For Iuchi, Boonboomger was his first time on a film set. He said he was surprised by many things."

Iuchi: First, I was surprised by the number of staff members involved with filming. Then, I was also surprised to see that even a single scene was rarely shot in one take, instead having the camera position change multiple times while the shot was being cut. Still, I don't think there are many opportunities like this to study the genuine production process of the Action Department so closely, and I don't think I'll have the chance to experience dub recording at other production sets, so I'd like to learn more about it and absorb as much as I can over the next year.

"The original reason he wanted to become an actor was because he watched the drama "Death Note" starring Kubota Masataka and became interested in acting."

Iuchi: It was the drama that made me want to try acting for the first time. However, I used to not be the type to watch movies or dramas, so I didn't really know much about acting as a profession. That's when my parents found "Watanabe Entertainment School," which then led me to joining my current agency. Actually, Yamada Yuki-san, who's from the same agency, has always been one of my favorite actors, and he's appeared in "Kaizoku Sentai Gokaiger," so he's also a senior that I look up to. As the acting in Super Sentai is often exaggerated, when we met in person, I asked him, "How did you break away from those habits?," and I received some very detailed advice. At that time, I once again realized that I wanted to become an actor who can play various roles, just like Yamada-san, who's known as a "chameleon actor."

"Speaking of, Taiya's a master of "development" and "modification." That being the case, if we asked Iuchi himself, "What are you a master of?" you'd say……"

Iuchi: I guess for me it'd be my passion for the things I love. I've always had a stubborn personality, and I'm the type of person who'll work very hard at the things I set my mind to, so I have confidence in that passion for it. That being said, before I aimed to become an actor, I wanted to be a pro tennis player, and would work extremely hard at tennis at the time. Also, I've always loved to create things since I was little, and was the type who wanted to do my best when it was time for arts and crafts, so in order to bring the piece closer to the perfection I envisioned, I'd ask my teachers, "Can I take it with me and do it at home?" I think that kind of focus to pursue something may still be with me now (laughs).

"This Summer, a double feature film will be released alongside Kamen Rider Gotchard. There, he'll perform together with someone he's admired since he was a child."

Iuchi: The video creator HIKAKIN-san appears as a guest. I started watching Youtube when I was in my second year of elementary school, and at that time, HIKAKIN-san was the one I would always watch, so I was tense when I met him on the film set. There's lots of content to take in, including scenes that were actually filmed at the Fuji Speedway circuit, so please look forward to it. _

Q: When do you feel cranked up?

Iuchi: My hobby is the guitar and to write and compose music, however, the longer it takes me to write a song, the more cranked up I feel when I finish it (laughs). One of my dreams is to someday work not only as an actor, but also as a singer and song writer.

[beansmack2021]

She's Yours Now (Pt. 2)

Platonic!Teen!Reader x Hazbin Crew

TW: Mentions of abuse, death, murder, Reader is lowkey kind of op lol, mentions of drugs

Charlie wasn't really sure who she'd expected to see when her father sent her straight into the heart of Pride. She just knew that Lucifer himself didn't believe that this new soul deserved to be damned to Hell for eternity. Or until the next extermination, if she was one of the unlucky casualties.

She tried not to think too hard about the fates of many of her people. She'd start seething soon enough, and then she'd be practically useless on their trip to find their newest arrival. Still, she couldn't help the sensation of her blood boiling when she pictured the masked angel exorcists.

"Char, breathe. You're crushing my hand."

She snapped out of it pretty quickly. "Sorry, Vaggie. I'm just... I'm thinking about the extermination. We don't have much time, and I mean, we have plenty of people who don't even deserve to be here, but they're going to die again. This new arrival is apparently the perfect example. My dad doesn't even think she should be here."

Charlie personally didn't believe any sinner deserved the punishment that Heaven had dealt them. The whole point of her hotel was to make the people of Hell see the light and bring them to their utopia. It hurt to know that even if every other soul in Hell left, she'd never be able to, but she also knew that her life's mission was to help others.

She took a deep breath, the sulfuric smell and red haze of Hell reminding her that she couldn't just wallow, and she definitely couldn't rage. She, Angel Dust, and Vaggie had been walking for what felt like hours. They'd passed plenty of bloodied up sinners, a few shaking each other down for some baggies of white powder, but still didn't notice anyone out of the ordinary.

That was until they heard a crashing sound in the alley to their right. Vaggie readied her spear, leading the way quietly down the alley. They heard another rustling sound and Vaggie quickly pointed her spear at the source of the sound.

Charlie put her hand out in front of Vaggie to lower her spear, taking in the girl before them. She was small, definitely younger, and terrified. She had doe-like features, like fluffy ears, a snout, white freckles, and big eyes. Her hair was dark and curly, and she had curtain like bangs. She definitely didn't look like she belonged there. They found their new arrival. She sniffed once, eyes wide as she stared at them.

"Please. Don't hurt me." The young doe was practically whispering.

"Oh! We're not going to hurt you! We're here to help." Charlie crouched down, offering the girl a warm smile. "I'm Charlie Morningstar. I run the Happy Hotel here. Our mission is to redeem as many sinners as possible so that they may make it to Heaven someday."

The girl looked at the ground in front of her, thinking to herself for a moment. "So... this really is Hell, huh?"

Charlie nodded once, trying to maintain her composure. She really just wanted to hug the young doe, but she knew that that was probably the one thing the girl wanted the least.

"I know why I'm here. I know I did a bad thing. I just didn't realize the one bad thing could outway so much good. Especially since I did a bad thing for a good reason. I was trying to make sure nothing happened to anyone else, the way it happened to me." She put her head in her hands, laughing once, but it wasn't a happy laugh. She was in shock.

Charlie reached out a hand, trying to comfort the girl, but it was almost like she sensed the movement in the air. She flinched, grabbing onto the wall behind her and the trashcan beside her. She pulled herself up and took off down the road.

"No! Come back! We're just here to help!"

Vaggie met Charlie at the end of the alley, putting a hand on her shoulder. The same gesture that had the doe-ish girl running for the hills. A gesture that was supposed to be comforting and instead scared her more.

"Uhhhh... toots, you're gonna wanna see this."

Angel Dust stood staring at something on the ground where the girl had once been. Charlie gasped as she took in the sight before her.

"Did she do this?" Vaggie mumbled.

"This" was... definitely a sight.

The trash can was no longer in its original state. There was a gaping hole, with ashy edges. The wall wasn't looking much better. The small girl, who seemed so terrified and helpless, had disintegrated the bricks and metal that had surrounded her.

Charlie looked at Vaggie. "We need to find her. Before someone gets hurt."

[liaa--qb]

"WRONG DECISION" (part ll)

[ Dark yan (male) Arya x Daenerys

WARNINGS : DUB con, possessive, Dark, Yandere (male) Arya, obsession, manipulation, fingering, oral, explicit, cheating, angst

Summary : Daenerys arrives at Winterfell to rule with John but things may not go well planned as her strange brother in law takes some special interest in her, extremely special interest.

PART 2

(Would appreciate likes and share ❤️ btw I literally fancast harry gilby too for this😅 what do you think)

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Later Dinner progressed at a leisurely pace, and, thankfully, this time, John was by Dany's side. Laughter filled the air as Tormund shared humorous stories, while John's friends regaled the gathering with tales of their adventures in different places. The atmosphere was convivial, and many of the court's wives approached Dany to engage her in conversation, much to her surprise.

It seemed that things were not as challenging as she had initially feared, and perhaps, in time, they might improve even more. Sansa, however, appeared to be missing someone, evident in her restless gaze as she scanned the room and inquiring about something. Dany took notice of her and inquired, "What's the matter, Sansa? Is there a problem?"

Sansa responded with a brief smile, "No, it's just... Arya isn't present. I know it's not your concern, Your Grace. He rarely misses dinner. As his older sister, I trust you understand..."

Dany had repeatedly asked Sansa to address her by her name or simply as a sister-in-law, without the need for the formal titles, but Sansa had always maintained her overly formal tone. Only John seemed to be comfortable enough to use Dany's regular name, a fact that left her wishing Sansa would drop the formality and greet her as her sister.

"Oh, don't worry, he may be occupied with some matters. If I come across him after dinner, I'll ask him to meet you," Dany reassured Sansa with a sweet tone, her hand resting gently on Sansa's. "And there's no need for formalities with me, as I've mentioned before. I'm going to be a part of your family after my wedding with John, so I have to care for Arya as well as for all of you," she added with a warm smile.

It was true; Arya was conspicuously absent. He rarely missed these gatherings, regardless of how busy he was during the day. In fact, for the past four days, he had always been present. Dany found herself dwelling on their session earlier in the day, and this reflection made her cheeks flush. She quickly dismissed these thoughts. How could she shift her focus from caring about Arya's safety to something... something that was quite inappropriate for her to entertain ?

Unbeknownst to her, Dany's gaze had wandered in the same direction as Jorah's, though she looked down immediately upon realizing this. With dinner drawing to a close, Jorah finally approached her. "Are you well, Khaleesi?" he inquired.

Dany managed a forced smile, making it seem like everything was fine and that she hadn't been lost in thought of her brother in law though Jorah appeared somewhat hesitant, a rare pause in his conversations with her. He continued, "I hope you are getting along with the people of the North. If there is anything or anyone bothering you, you can always confide in me. You know that, right?"

Dany chuckled lightly and replied with a soft tone, assuming Jorah had been alarmed by her earlier demeanor, "No, Ser. Everything is fine here, and I'm genuinely enjoying my time."

Then, Jorah gently requested, "Khaleesi, if you don't mind, I know I'm asking my queen, but may I have a private walk with you? We haven't had the chance to talk since we arrived here." A warm smile adorned his face.

Dany felt a pang of sadness as she realized she had to decline his offer, as she had already made plans with John for some quality time together. She couldn't let this opportunity slip by, considering John's busy schedule. She did, however, feel regretful about declining Jorah's sweet request, knowing how deeply he cared for her.

 "I apologize, Ser Jorah, but not today, as John and I need to discuss some important matters, particularly concerning the family. I really wished to accompany you, but John mentioned this is the only time he's available. I hope you understand, and I had no other choice." A hint of disappointment was evident in Jorah's eyes, so Dany hastened to add, "But we will certainly make time tomorrow. You, Missandei, and I will spend some quality time together. I promise."

"and I thought my queen wanted to spend more time with the Northerners and her new family. That's sad," At this, Arya's cold voice suddenly cut through, taking both of them by surprise. His voice laced with chilly disapproval, his long coat and a dagger at his side, hands neatly folded behind his back, and the customary straight-backed posture giving him a formidable appearance

"Prince Arya!" Dany gasped, taken aback by his sudden appearance. "You nearly gave me a fright."

Arya couldn't help but wear a sly smirk as he strolled closer. "Then I'd recommend getting used to it, my queen."

Dany couldn't help but notice the lack of warmth in Jorah's expression when he looked at Arya, and she couldn't help but wonder if their previous evening activity had something to do with it.

"So where did my queen wish to spend her time?" Arya inquired, standing beside Dany and glancing between her and Jorah. Dany couldn't help but notice how even his formal tone sounded more like a directive or a mere statement.

"Ser Jorah wished to spend some time with me," Dany began, her voice carrying enthusiasm. "You know, we haven't had the chance for a proper conversation since our arrival. The journey was taxing for all of us, and a leisurely stroll around Winterfell just wasn't feasible today. It will have to wait until tomorrow."

"Is that so, Ser Jorah?" Arya quizzically turned his gaze to Jorah with a straight face. "If you desired a private tour of Winterfell, you could have taken anyone. I would have happily provided a servant for your convenience. Shall I?"

Jorah met Arya's gaze unwaveringly replying"I wished to spend some time alone with Dany, like in the old days. We have important matters to discuss, particularly regarding her safety."

Arya paused, considering this. "But I thought she had planned another training session for tomorrow, which might take a considerable amount of time. I had planned to take Sansa, Bran, and her for a family outing, as my brother suggested she desires more family time." His voice held a hint of inquiry.

In that moment, Jorah cast a defeated and resigned look towards Dany, seemingly at a loss for words. Dany, attempting to defuse the tension and find a middle ground, offered a solution, saying, "No problem, Ser Jorah can join us as well." She turned her gleaming eyes toward Arya and continued, "Believe me, Prince Arya, he is like family to me. We share an exceptionally close bond, so why not include him?"

Arya, though he gave a nod, still held a challenging expression. He appeared unhappy with the decision but refrained from voicing any opposition.

"Please forgive my curiosity, but is this related to concerns about your safety, my queen?" Arya asked with a small, bemused smirk. "I mean, if that's the case, Ser Jorah, you can freely enjoy your time. When I'm with her, you don't need to worry, especially about her safety," he asserted with a sharp tone, his gaze fixed directly upon Jorah. "Her safety and well-being are now my responsibilities."

For a moment, they locked eyes, with Jorah appearing to have some unresolved issue with Arya. Dany had grown accustomed to Jorah's behaviour after spending considerable time with him.

Dany couldn't help but feel it was unjust to regard Jorah as merely another random soldier, even though Arya's intentions might not have been harmful. Jorah's loyalty ran deep, and he deserved respect equivalent to his commitment. She believed he shouldn't be discarded repeatedly, especially when his request was so modest. "No, Arya, please pardon me, but I cannot change my decision. I made a promise to Ser Jorah," Dany replied to Arya with sweetness, hoping that he would comprehend her stance.

Just then, John and Sansa joined them, their faces reflecting curiosity. Sansa exclaimed, "Arya, you came late for dinner!"

Arya explained, "Yes, I was just finishing up some work, sister. Oh, John, I need to discuss something with you. I'm glad I found you soon enough." He nodded towards John, whose arm was draped around Dany. John and Arya decided to step aside for a private conversation, with Dany grabbing John's collar for a parting kiss. Both Dany and John exchanged happy, loving glances before parting. John kissed her hand and spoke in a low, gentle voice, "I will come." With a reassuring pat on her cheek, he finally walked away with Arya.

Jorah stood still, wearing an expression of complete boredom. Sansa chimed in, "I hope Arya didn't bother you too much. Sometimes he's quite rough with his ideas and peculiarities, but there are moments when he behaves perfectly normal." She smiled briefly while glancing at both Dany and Jorah.

Dany nodded in agreement. "Of course, I can understand. We are new here, so it's natural for us not to grasp his intentions and words at times. But I can see he's young and quite sensible. How old is he?"

Jorah finally contributed to the conversation, much to Dany's relief. She had been hoping that Arya's words hadn't affected him. "The boy is remarkably well-trained with weapons, especially for his age. I must say he possesses a sharpness in his attacks that I rarely see in warriors, especially someone as young as him."

Dany responded softly, "He's doing incredibly well, considering his age and all he has endured."

Sansa added, "Yes, I know. He was just a child when he went through so much. There were times I was scared, wondering if he was even alive."

Dany looked at Sansa with a sad but reassuring smile and said, "I can understand."

Sansa replied, "Oh 18, he's almost 18, just a few days away."

-----------------------------------------------------------

THAT NIGHT LATER

After dinner, Dany, Ser Jorah, and Sansa engaged in a lengthy conversation, which proved to be quite enjoyable for Dany. This marked the longest conversation she had ever had with Sansa, and it was a pleasant surprise. As the night grew darker and colder with each passing breeze, the landscape outside was completely blanketed in snow.

Dany couldn't deny that it had been a good day, but she felt the need for a hot bath. Her body was tired from her activities throughout the day, including her sessions with weapons, and the biting cold outside only encouraged people to retreat to their warm chambers.

Later, Missandei accompanied Dany for her hot bath. The two of them engaged in a conversation about their day and shared information about the various members of the court and their surroundings. Missandei playfully teased Dany about John, emphasizing, "I hope you had a good time with him." Dany smiled, her face lighting up, evident even to Missandei.

Missandei remarked, "I'm happy to see you smiling and enjoying yourself after the rather somber mood you've had these past few days, Your Grace." As she scrubbed Dany's arms, she continued, "Yes, you're right. Today, after a long time, I actually felt happy. Everything seemed fine. I'm realizing now that I may have been overreacting. I believe things will certainly get better in any case." Dany responded, her attention drifting as she played with the bubbles in the bathwater.

Missandei cheered her on, saying, "Yes, and there's no need to worry about John, Your Grace. You're quite fortunate; he's a truly good man. I've observed him closely. He loves you dearly and is incredibly caring." She made sure Dany was comfortable, allowing her to relax.

Dany lowered her head a bit further, resting it on the edge of the bath, and mused, "Yes, we do love each other. But I'm definitely going to tease him." She smiled mischievously while glancing at Missandei and continued, "He kept me waiting for far too long."

Missandei giggled, "Don't do that! He might become sad, thinking something like you must be asleep."

Dany nodded, "Yes, initially, he might. But then, I'll surprise him instantly. I love seeing him shocked and a little scared on such occasions, and he deserves this tonight."

Both of them laughed heartily while sharing their gossips, effectively washing away the weariness of the day.

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In the deep, enveloping darkness of the night, everyone had retired to their chambers, leaving the palace shrouded in silence. The only sounds that persisted were the thuds of the cold breezes, the gentle patter of water droplets, and the occasional crackling of the wooden logs in the fires. The palace appeared somewhat eerie in this solitude, but Dany couldn't have cared less. Her mind was elsewhere, immersed in thoughts of John and the anticipation of his arrival.

She wanted to look enchanting this night, especially for him. As she strolled through her chamber, her fingers played with one another in a state of tension.

Her gaze wandered among her finest dresses, but her eyes settled on one in particular. It was a thin, crimson gown with an impossibly deep neckline, its hem stopping just shy of her navel, adorned with delicate rose patterns. A small smile graced her lips as she selected this dress.

Nuzzling her cheek against the dress's exquisitely delicate, silky fabric, she couldn't help but ponder how destiny had never allowed her to wear it of her own accord. It was a beautiful garment, a gift given by Viserys, but she had resolved to wear it when she met her prince—the one who would save her and grant her the happiness of a loving family. Her mind drifted back to the days of her suffering and yearning, a time when she had never found the one.

But now, he is here,he stood before her, ready to take her away from her trials, the one who would love her boundlessly.

Dany positioned herself in front of the mirror, her chosen dress clinging to her body. She wondered if it would do justice to her beauty, but the thought of herself without the dress teased her even more. A devilish grin crept across her lips as she contemplated the night ahead.

Dany prepared herself with meticulous care, adjusting the neckline of her dress while gazing into the mirror. As she combed her hair, she couldn't help but think of John and how he would tenderly run his fingers through those locks, warming her with his affection. While contemplating whether to braid her hair or form it into rose-like buns, she ultimately decided to let it cascade freely.

It looked enchanting on her, yet she longed to recreate the rose bun, a style that John had often praised. Though crafting the intricate bun felt like a heavy and challenging task, she pushed herself to do it, knowing that this night was for both John and herself. She left it a bit loose so that it could be undone easily later.

Beyond the chamber's walls, heavy bricks of snow fell from the eaves to the ground outside, creating a symphony of loud, echoing cracks. To her, each sound was a harbinger of John's arrival, adding to her anticipation. She added a delicate scent from Dorne to complete her preparations.

The room was warm and inviting, a sanctuary against the biting cold outside. Despite the coziness, she found herself drawn to a blanket, wrapped around her as she sat in a chair, her thoughts filled with anticipation.

Sitting there, Dany contemplated whether she should change her cushions to something softer, but she quickly dismissed the whimsical thought with a laugh, knowing John would surely think her mad. With all her preparations nearly complete, she was now only awaiting John's arrival to finalize the evening's plans. She dashed off to lock her door securely, a crucial detail she couldn't overlook, and a part of the night she thoroughly relished.

A gift from Braavos, a bottle of special perfume was in her hand, and as she sprayed it around her room, she marveled at the captivating, almost mysterious scent it exuded. Known to leave people a bit dizzy, this fragrance was said to possess an enchanting quality, making it a favorite choice for newlyweds on their first night. As she visualized John's mockingly frustrated expression when she refused to open the door and imagined how his sweet charm would eventually win her over, she couldn't help but smile.

Seated on her bed, she waited for John, knowing that the castle gates would soon be sealed for the night. It was the hour when all work came to a halt, and if John had been anywhere outside, he would be making his way to her room. Standing beside her small window, she noticed there was no light coming from John's chambers, nor were his guards present.

It was clear he was on his way. With a sense of anticipation and excitement, she let herself lie down on her bed, closing her eyes and relishing these moments.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dany awoke abruptly, shaken from her brief slumber by another loud crash of ice bricks. She hadn't realized how long she had dozed off and jolted herself awake, worried that John was taking an unusually long time. Glancing around her chamber, she observed a complete absence of anything unusual, even as she peered outside her door and through the small window.

She sank back onto her bed, nervously awaiting his arrival, silently dreading the thought that he might have forgotten their meeting. She refused to entertain that idea, convinced that everything had been perfect on this day and that nothing could possibly go wrong.

However, as time continued to slip by, he still hadn't appeared. Even the wolves, she thought, would be resting now, but he was nowhere to be found. More time passed, and he still didn't come.

---------

Now it passed more than hour and yet he wasn’t there.

Dany lost track of time, waiting, and still, he didn't come. She accepted her fate, tears welling up in her eyes, and let herself fall into a deep sleep, seeking solace in the warmth of her blanket and silky cushions. Her weary body couldn't endure the anticipation any longer.

----------------------------------------------------------------

Later hours a sudden, loud pounding on her door jolted her from her slumber. Dany was unaccustomed to such a clamor in the middle of the night. She wondered if John had finally arrived but soon realized that it couldn't be him. The pounding was relentless, intense, and filled with urgency.

"Who's outside?" Dany asked with a mix of curiosity and alarm. "I demand to know who's out there!"

The banging continued, growing even louder, and Dany's heart raced with each forceful thud. It felt as if the door was on the brink of breaking open. She hurried to her bed, covered herself, and grasped a small knife, ready to defend herself.

The door creaked open, and when Dany turned her eyes toward it, she found Arya standing there. At first, her racing heart slowed as she recognized him, but her shock and curiosity remained. Flustered by his unexpected presence, Dany asked with an alarmed voice, "What are you doing at this hour? You frightened me. Is there an emergency? Is everything all right?"

Arya appeared at a loss for words. "I... I, my queen, I..."

Concerned by his unusual behavior, Dany rose from her bed and approached him in much tension "What's the matter? Why are you here, and why are you acting like this? Please, say something. Your silence is making me even more anxious."

While who Arya continued to appear bewildered, gazing at her as though she were some foreign entity or a White Walker itself. Dany tried to meet his gaze, which lingered from her head to toe, particularly below her neckline, causing her cheeks to flush.

Finally, he continued in his soft, hushed voice, much to Dany's surprise. "I came to check on you. I noticed the lights were on in this room. I tried to open the door quietly, but it was locked tightly, and something seemed to be blocking it i thought," he said while glancing around at the large table Dany had placed in front of the door. "I couldn't make out the sounds clearly. At first, I attempted to knock, but when it seemed like you weren't responding, I feared you might be in danger. That's when I began banging on the door," he explained, his gaze fixed on her with intense eyes. "I apologize, my queen."

Dany finally managed to calm herself as she realized the situation. She nodded and sighed, "oh It's... it's alright. Just please don't behave like this again."

However, she noticed that Arya didn't make any move to leave her room. He stood there, gazing at her with an intense look that she couldn't help but describe as resembling 'lust' Dany followed his gaze and was shocked to see that her dress had become loose, with some threads undone during her restless sleep. It was revealing far more than it should have, and one of its straps had already slipped down her arm.

Dany felt a surge of shame as she took in her disheveled appearance and Arya's penetrating gaze. She knew she shouldn't look this disarrayed, with her hair now flowing loosely in untamed waves, her beautiful dress creased and ruffled in ways it was never intended to be. Her dress, which was already rather sheer and clingy, added to her apprehension.

She began to reach for a long woolen shawl on table, intent on covering herself and regaining some composure. But before she could do so, Arya gripped her arms firmly, preventing her from proceeding.

"Don't," he said, holding her arms gently and guiding her back toward him.

Dany's body still trembled slightly from her recent sleep, and Arya's cold touch sent shivers along her nerves. She attempted to explain, her words almost faltering, "But, Prince, it's not... It's unqueenly of me." Her sentence was cut off swiftly by Arya's response.

"No, you don't need to do that," he said, drawing her closer to him. His tone was soothing and understanding, as if he didn't fully comprehend the meaning behind his own words. "It's just me and you, and you don't need to hide anything, especially from me and I already told you this."

She sensed his fingers grazing her arms, and then she saw him whisk the shawl away, discarding it carelessly. His eyes remained locked onto hers, an unwavering connection that both unsettled and intrigued Dany. While the intensity of his gaze made her slightly uncomfortable, her own expression was something of a paradox.

For a prolonged moment, he merely observed her, his eyes traversing her features. He moved from her eyes to her neck, then down to her lips, and her chest, which rose and fell rapidly with her unsteady breath. The look in his eyes was undeniably charged with desire, and Dany couldn't ignore the fact that this was indeed a lustful stare.

Despite this, she reasoned that he was a young man, and such feelings were perhaps only natural. At least, she hoped so. The gaze wasn't entirely consumed by lust and longing, as if he viewed her as some precious and delectable fruit he wished to consume or a piece of jewelry to be won.

To alleviate the mounting tension, she decided to shift the focus and inquire about John. "Did John return? Is he safe?" She endeavored to conceal her emotions behind her words.

"Why do you always have to bring him into everything? Can't you stand on your own in Winterfell?" Dany was taken aback by the sudden shift in Arya's tone, and she gazed at him, his eyes now hardened and filled with darkness. Arya's response took her aback. His tone had shifted dramatically, and it was almost accusatory. Dany stared at him, her shock palpable. "What do you mean ?" Her voice betrayed her bewilderment.

Arya's demeanor transformed once more, but not to the same extent as before. "I didn't mean it that way," he clarified. "I only wanted to reassure you that you're not tethered to John's side all the time. Winterfell is your home now, too. You can come to me anytime if you ever need assistance. Don't you trust us?"

"No, no, my prince, I trust you completely," she reassured him, her hands gently resting on Arya's arms. "I'm not dependent on John. I was simply anticipating his return, that's all," she concluded the sentence with a tinge of sadness she couldn't conceal, her gaze lowered.

"And he didn't come," Arya replied sternly.

Dany was again taken aback by his sudden intrusion into her personal affairs. "Yes," she responded softly. "I think you should return, it's quite late." She was just about to request that Arya leave, but her words were swiftly interrupted by his startling remark.

"Sometimes I wonder, does he even deserve you? How did he manage to win you?" Arya chuckled, a sardonic grin on his face, which conveyed nothing but irritation.

This behavior was peculiar, even for Arya, and it felt like he had crossed a line that no one had ever dared to approach before.

Dany was utterly shocked by his question. "What..what ?"

"Yes, I shouldn't be saying this, but it's the plain truth," Arya replied, his voice cold and soft, his shoulders subtly shrugging. Dany found herself struggling to grasp the reality of what she was hearing. She couldn't decide whether to scold him, be afraid of him, or wonder if he was in the right state of mind, or if he was genuinely like this.

"You don't need to interfere in our personal matters, especially concerning John. We love each other deeply, and he must be occupied with his duties, as I understand as a queen myself. Besides, he's your brother," she stated, her words firm and direct, although she was trying to maintain an air of confidence.

"Really?" Arya chuckled as he stepped closer, moving in much nearer to her. She could feel his cold breath on her skin. "I didn't mean to frighten you, I promise. I love my brother too, but... he's too foolish to leave you alone like this," he spoke slowly, his tone growing smoother and more sugary.

To Dany, it sounded like a sweet threat more than anything else. His eyes were fixed on her lips, filled with desire which she was unknown to. Dany wanted him to move away, to give her some space to breathe, but he didn't budge an inch from his place.

She couldn't comprehend why his presence was so intimidating, making her hesitate to push him away or say something. If it had been anyone else coming this close to her, she would have slapped them without a second thought. But there was something about Arya that left her momentarily paralyzed.

"Prince Arya... please, it's better if you..." Her voice was barely audible, a mere whisper.

"You are so stunning, Daenerys. I think you're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen," Arya's voice took on the quality of a dark lullaby. Her name sounded exquisite as it left his lips. Daenerys managed to summon her strength and looked directly at Arya, who was studying her face with intense focus. She felt a fluttering sensation inside her, something she shouldn't be feeling.

There was something about his gaze that always stirred something within her. Her breath caught as she realized his fingers were gently running through her hair, loosening her locks. "Keep it open always. Why do you tie them up?" he asked softly, tucking a loose strand behind her ear. His fingers continued their journey from her hair to her cheeks. "So incredibly beautiful, so delicate, so naive..," he whispered, his fingers caressing her skin, his eyes locked onto her face.

This was undeniably wrong, completely and utterly wrong. Dany knew she should be ashamed for allowing her brother-in-law to cross these boundaries and engage in such improper actions, but the strange truth was she wasn't. Her body defied her better judgment, ached to be closer to him. She should have pushed him away, ordered him to leave, but instead, she found herself silently inviting him further, desiring to explore the depths of his cold, restrained touches. The brutal cold of the night outside only intensified her yearning to discover the warmth of his body, to see what he could do more with her.

Daenerys snapped herself out of her irrational thoughts, forcing her mind back to reality. She had become so lost in her contemplation that she hadn't noticed her back was nearly against the wall, and Arya's tall and lean frame encroached upon her, making her feel insignificant. She swallowed hard and attempted to stand straight, but it felt like everything was slipping through her grasp.

Arya gently stroked her cheeks with his hands. "You wanted to spend your special night with him, to give your all, and he just left you waiting. How sad for you," he cooed in a sweet but mocking tone. Daenerys could barely manage to speak under his touch. "No, that..that that's no..not what it was..."

The fire in room crackled tensely, mirroring the tension inside her.

"Don't lie to me," Arya's fingers began to trace the contours of her shoulders, his voice holding a mix of sternness and dark curiosity. "You sleep like this every day, wearing this.., don't you?"

"Don't lie to me," Arya's fingers began to trace the contours of her shoulders, his voice holding a mix of sternness and dark curiosity. "You sleep like this every day wearing this., don't you?"

she could only manage to stammer out, "Ye ye yesss, i..I do." Her body was melting beneath his touch, and she was unsure what kind of sorcery he was wielding over her heart.

He leaned closer, his breath brushing against her ear. "And this scent is used by whores in Braavos. You shouldn't be wearing it unless... you're one of them," he whispered, his fingers lazily wandering through her hair as he took his time. "How do you kn.. no, it's not..." Daenerys' words faltered, her voice trembling and her breathing heavy, unable to complete her defense. What had come over her?

With a challenging glint in his eyes, he remarked, "liar..I know it. I have quite a history with Braavos and you don't need all this. You don't need to dress like this." His fingers ventured further down her neckline, tantalizingly halting just above her navel. "You, alone, are enough. Without the dress,bare.. even more wonderful blessing," he added. In that moment, Danys was pinned against the wall, feeling as if it were the only thing keeping her from surrendering to the intense allure.

Pathetic, helpless, and devastated, she stood there. Her skin was ablaze with desire, every touch of his  fingers against it making her heartbeat race as if preparing for a battle.

Arya continued in a smooth hushed tone, "Don't mind me, but I would never leave such a woman alone, even for a moment, if she were my betrothed... I would devour her every chance,every moment I get," he whispered, his eyes fixed on her face, his fingers tracing the warm contours of her cheeks.

She had completely lost herself under his touch, his intense gaze, and everything else about him. Perhaps, in her denials, she had been denying her own needs as well. Finally, she opened her eyes and realized he was too close, dangerously close, as though he was about to consume her.

Thankfully, after a sliver of light seeping in from a slightly ajar door caught her eye, her gaze landed on the wedding dress she had got from John as gift.. With all her remaining strength, she distanced herself from Arya. Moving toward the door, she swung it open wide, signaling for him to depart with a courteous smile. "I think it's too late, Prince Arya. You should return to your room. I need some rest as well."

Arya moved away slowly, a faint grin clearly visible on his face as his eyes remained fixed on her. Dany struggled to avoid direct eye contact, looking elsewhere. When he approached the threshold, he couldn't resist a parting shot, "Goodnight, my queen. It was a pleasure to see you.. like this," he said with a honeyed tone, his smugness unmistakable.

"Thank you, Prince, for checking on me. Goodnight to you as well," she replied with a forced smile. She immediately closed the door and leaned against it, her breath heavy as if she had been suffocated throughout those moments.

Turning off the lights from candles, she walked over to her bed, cocooned herself in the embrace of the soft cushions and blankets, seeking nothing but peace. She was determined to ensure that whatever had just transpired would never happen again; it had been an ordeal beyond her imagining.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Good evening, I got another idea for your new event

Aces' older brother and grim interaction like "oh, Ace, how you got so tall— agh! It's not Ace" "oh? Oh. Oooh, hello. Isn't it that 'stupid raccoon' my lil' bro was talking about? " "HEY! Don't call THE great Grim raccoon! "

[Referencing this interaction!]

… I like how we’ve come to a silent consensus that Big Bro Trappola is just a taller version of Ace 😂

Fun fact: In the JP fandom, a lot of fans call Ace’s brother “Jack”, a reference to the character “Jack Hearts” from the Villain Recruiters group (part of Tokyo Disney Sea’s Halloween events).

Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.

You heard Grim's familiar shrill cries echo up from the bottom of a twisting stairwell. Peering down over the banister, you found an auburn-haired boy detaining Grim by the scruff, the poor little beast flailing for freedom. You called out to them as you jogged down the stairs, speaking a name you knew so well: Ace.

As you approached, a realization started to set in—that Ace was far taller than usual. But surely it was the same cheery troublemaker you'd always known. He had the same cheeky smile and bright eyes.

A growth spurt? Or had he defied Riddle's warnings to not eat the dubious mushrooms that grew in the Heartslabyul gardens?

Ace casually raised his free hand to wave as you descended. “Yo.”

“Hey!! Wow Ace, when did you get this tall?” you said teasingly.

The corner of his mouth lifted, amused. You noticed that he had parted his bangs today, and had drawn on his heart much smaller, more of an accessory than a statement piece.

“Well, you know how it is. A growing boy like me’s always got something up his sleeve.”

“M-Minion, there you are!!” Grim sputtered, aggressively kicking his furry feet midair. “Quick, after this imposter!”

“Imposter?”

“Don’t mind him. Little dude’s got his tail in a twist cuz I called him a raccoon.” A wicked grin crept onto Ace’s lips. It was easy and devil-may-care—and Ace was that devil. “Isn’t that right, ta-nu-ki-chan?”

He prodded Grim’s cheek with each singsong syllable. One, two, three, four… and Grim lost it.

“MYAAAH!!” He thrashed about wildly, swiping his paws at his just-out-of-reach captor. “I’m so MAD, I could spit!! When I get my paws on you, I’ll…!”

“Watch it, or you’ll set the whole dorm on fire,” you warned, “and then we’ll have an upset Riddle to deal with.”

“Who, the teapot tyrant? Isn’t he off sipping tea somewhere? I wouldn’t worry about him.”

“Ace!!” You gaped at him, eyes wide. “You talking about him is just going to make Riddle magically manifest to collar you again! It’s like the universe is out to get you at this point.”

“I’m cool with that. I doubt he’ll behead me anyway.”

“What makes you think he won’t?!”

Ace simply shrugged and wiggled his brows—as if daring you to guess. “Let’s just say I don’t think I’m the guy he’d be after,” he said mysteriously with a wink.

“AHHHHHHHH!!”

You startled at the scream that tore through the air. Your head whipped in the direction of it, expecting an enraged Riddle, face red and nostrils flaring, charging at you. Instead, the person scrambling over was…

“Ace?!”

You looked back at the young man holding onto Grim, then again at the one fast approaching. Side by side, the little differences between them came to light.

The taller Ace was sharper in every way—eyes, lips, face. His attire was far more casual than Riddle would allow for: an open vest, dress shirt undone a few buttons, a loose tie thrown over his shoulder. He had a relaxed maturity about him, as though Ace had been aged into some semblance of adulthood, but had maintained all of his wonder.

The imposter assumed a sheepish smirk. “‘Sup, lil’ bro?”

“Don’t ‘sup, lil’ bro me!!” Ace groaned, marching over to land a swift punch to his brother’s arm arm. “Dude, you can’t just ditch me to go screw with my friends! Only I'm allowed to do that!"

“My bad, my bad. I was just curious about what kinda people you hang around with.” His brother laughed, setting Grim back on the ground. You were quick to grab him before he circled around to attack the older Trappola’s pant leg.

“So,” Ace’s brother continued, his gaze trained on you and Grim, “you must be the ones that had Ace running to Sage’s Island over winter break. He was really worried when you got your SOS text. Basically broke his piggy bank to make sure he had enough allowance to take public transportation back to NRC.”

“Oh? Really? I had no idea he was so desperate to be my hero.”

“H-Hey, don’t listen to him! He’s blowing it out of proportion! I totally wasn’t that worried,” Ace protested. “Besides, if dummies like you and Deuce weren’t around… then school life would be so much more boring. A wellness check here or there’s fine, so lay off!”

His brother chuckled. Leaning into your ear, he murmured, “That’s how Ace shows that he cares.”

“Oi, what are you whispering about?!” Ace cried, elbowing his brother out of the way. “Stop gettin’ all chummy with MY friends and butt out. You’re supposed to be spending time with your family today anyway, so let’s get going!”

“What, I was just about to embarrass you by sharing stupid stories with them~”

“Like I’d like that happen!!” With a pout, Ace yanked on his brother’s arm. “Come on, you have adult stuff to do!!”

"Like you don’t have kid stuff to do?”

“I’m NOT a little kid anymore!”

“And I’m still young at heart.”

Stuck between the duo, you and Grim exchanged knowing glances.

“Those two… they really are alike, huh?”

“You know it, minion.”

[harleehazbinfics]

Dear Baby, Chapter 5

Dear Baby, m.list | Author's Profile

A/N: imveryterriblysorry Word Count: 1.4k

"Hmm? What's this?" you ponder as you picked up an envelope off your table.

"An invitation to the royal... ball?" your slowly lose your voice as you finished reading the invite. You turn your head to Lucifer and ask him, "Uhm, did someone get this mixed up and accidentally put it in my table instead of yours, your majesty?"

He lifts his head off his paperwork, his glasses sitting perfectly on his face giving a very mature vibe. You hand him the envelope which he inspects and cuts open with a letter knife.

"Well, it is indeed for me. It's that time of the year I suppose," he says decisively and places it on the corner of his desk where he can see it.

You tilt your head in confusion making him internally sigh at how cute you acted and answers, "It's just a party Asmo throws every year just to keep us in touch and profit from the other attendees."

You hum at him in understanding and say, "Have you attended his parties before?"

He hesitates before answering truthfully, "Well, not for a while. I used to attend it with Lilith back when we were still together."

"Will you attend this one?"

He stays silent for a while, contemplating to himself the pros and cons of going. Seeing his dilemma, you stepped in and studied the date of the event.

"Well, couldn't hurt, can it?" He chuckles, "Besides, gotta let them know I'm not dead right?"

You chirped up a laugh and retorted, "That would be the most unbelievable piece of news I would have ever heard."

He smiles as he listens at you chitter and says, "Will you attend with me?"

You stop in place and point at yourself, "Me? Wh- How could I?"

"The invitation says that I could bring a partner with me, and who other than you should I bring with me. You've helped me personally and with maintaining all 7 rings. So, I don't see why I can't bring you there," he smiles leaning against his table towards you.

Your cheeks reddened as your head jumped onto conclusions with how his half-lidded eyes looked at you. You simply nodded your head barely registering any other words passing between you.

----

You nervously clutched Lucifer's arm as your eyes darted side to side, as you looked at the attendants that were dressed luxuriously having idle chatter with one another.

Lucifer assuring you as he patted your hand with a gentle smile on his face as he looked at you. His demeanor made you calm down and return a small one back.

A crowd flocked towards the both of you making you squeak from their sudden appearance. Lucifer allowed you to excuse yourself while he talked to them but stressed that you call him if anything happens.

You escaped into a room that the maids provided. You sigh as you sat on the couch, taking off your shoes to relax your aching human feet then comfortingly rubbing your swollen belly. You were humming a song to yourself when a little squeak.

"Who's there?" you call.

From where you sat you could see a little tremble by the curtain. You slowly crept avoiding making a sound and peeled the curtain back to see a small prince.

"Stolas?" you realize as you lose the air from your lungs.

He looks back at you somewhat fearfully before realizing it was you and exclaims, "Miss (Y/n)!"

"Oh, my darling. I've missed you so much!" you cry as you pull him into a hug, "What are you doing here?"

"I ran away from father while he was talking to some people. I don't even think he realizes I'm gone," he explains, saddened by his thoughtless father.

You gave him a pained smile before swiping his tears away. Despite being mistreated by his father, he never scorned him for it. You guessed that he didn't have the capacity for it yet. He's such a gentle and understanding child that he wouldn't impose his own wants and needs despite being the only acknowledge heir to the throne. It made your heart clench at how much he's endured in that lonely palace.

"It's alright, darling. Since we have time, why don't we have a chat? I've awfully missed your charming presence, my dashing prince," you cooed scratching him under his beak making him sound a happy hoot and lean against me.

---

After finally escaping the wave of people that rushed to greet him, Lucifer was left to wander where you were. He starts to feel around him and look for your presence. Something warm and welcoming.

He trails after the feeling and opens a door to see you petting a little boy's head while he lay his head on your lap as his little hands mindlessly caressing your belly while he talked aimlessly. The sight alone made his heart whole, it was something that he used to see all of the time before he spiraled into his depression. Something he lacked to appreciate before. But now...

"Oh! Your majesty! I didn't see you there. Did you go looking for me?" you asked with your head tilted.

It was something that he wanted with you...

'Ridiculous!' his head screams embarrassed before slapping himself on the cheek roughly.

"!! What are you doing, your majesty!?"

"Nothing, nothing. I was just thinking," he tries to laugh off, "Are you resting well?"

"Yes! I have someone to keep me company," you smile as Stolas scrambles onto his feet and bows at Lucifer.

"I apologize for my lack of manner. I am Stolas, prince of the Ars Goetia and heir to the throne," he greets gracefully and with confidence, "It is a great honor of mine to be in your presence."

You smile at him proudly while Lucifer looks at him fondly before he clears his throat trying to match his tone.

"You may rise, Prince Stolas. The pleasure is all mine. Thank you for keeping (y/n) company while I was gone," Lucifer says dipping his head acknowledging Stolas making him look at Lucifer with stars in his eyes.

He looks at you excitedly as you giggle and pet his fluffy head. Lucifer walks over and pets him the same before sitting next to you.

"Come sit beside us. I'd love to be included in your discussion," Lucifer says gently, "What were you talking about?"

BANG!

The sound of the door opening resounded causing you and Stolas to yelp while Lucifer extends his arm to protect you two.

"What insolent--"

"O-oh! Your majesty! I must apologize but I'm looking for my son. It's his first time coming to one of these events after his insistence and he just flies off somewhere without notice! I was afraid he would make a mistake somewhere, you see," a tall figure rambles, trying to explain himself.

There was no mistaking to who's voice you were hearing. It made you freeze up and made your sweat cold. Stolas caught onto your stiffing figure, which makes him tear up in worry for you. With sudden courage he runs from your arms and into his father.

"And- there you are! This behavior is unacceptable, expect to be punished when we get home," he warns lowly at Stolas.

Lucifer lifts his hand with his brows furrowed, "No no. I must apologize as well for taking up his time. I was talking with him to make him forget to meet up with you right away. No need to punish the child."

Paimon quirks his head for a moment before bowing to Lucifer, I understand. Thank you for your benevolence, your majesty. Let's go now, Prince."

Stolas hesitates as he peers at the horrified look on your face in worry. Unfortunately, his father looks at what his son was looking at and snorts a cocky laugh.

"Hah! So, it's you. Funny to run into you here after you ran away," he smirks before setting his eyes back on Lucifer, "and I see you found yourself a new master to serve."

You look down ashamed and clutched onto your other arm trying to cover yourself from him, and just latched your eyes onto your bare human arms.

"I'm afraid you've overstayed your welcome. Please leave," Lucifer announces with venom in his tone before adding, "Now."

He huffs self-centeredly with a smirk and bows, "I shall take my leave. Take care of yourself, your majesty."

He then disappears in a black smoke leaving you and Lucifer alone. He turns to you worriedly and calls, "(Y/n)..."

Your breath hitches and your digits dig deeper into your arm not letting up and answer, "I'd like to go home now... please."

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[constelationprize]

ROBIN/ELODIE ??????

if this about to be like my eva josten/adèle moreau scenario i will cry then ask u to please marry me.

i need this more than i need air. u don’t understand. i love u. ur the freaking best. tell me more.

Yeah that one came to me in a vision.

The thing is that like most of my other niche rarepairings I just cannot resist the allure of Narrative Parallels™. Mostly I just realized how similar Elodie and Robin's stories are (in concept) and that they could actually be around the same age (considering Elodie would be around 15-16yo in 2007 and Robin joins the Foxes in 2009 after Kevin graduates, and assuming Robin didn't get held back due to the Horrors, that would put them at around a 1-2 year age difference).

So the basic concept for the AU is that Elodie survives and is rescued by Stuart during TSC and then brought over to the USA to live with Jean and the Trojans. This goes about as well as you would expect, which is to say not at all – she's heavily traumatized, barely speaks English for the first couple years, and is resistant to any kind of help that would result in her having to leave Jean's side. She also at first does not want anything to do with the other Trojans at all because she sees most of them as adults she can't trust and also resents them for monopolizing Jean's time, and none of these college sports players is anywhere near qualified for unpacking All of That.

Elodie and Jean effectively make each other's recovery worse for a long while because they immediately try and fall back to their childhood dynamic, which can no longer work for multiple reasons. But through Betsy Dobson all things are possible and eventually they get to a point where they aren't actively standing in each other's way anymore, though things are still Not Good.

It gets tough again when Jean graduates and they move out of LA, which just uproots what little stability Elodie had again, and he has developed a need to constantly check on her that cannot be good for his now even busier pro player schedule. Also, Elodie is almost 18, and at a point where she should be graduating high school and thinking about her future, which she very much is not doing because until a couple years ago she didn't even HAVE a future so she doesn't really know what to do with it.

They start floating the possibility of getting her into a community college or something in the state Jean's in, but eventually the possibility of having some strings pulled to get her into PSU is brought up, and Elodie latches onto it immediately, mostly because she both feels stifled by Jean's helicopter parenting AND kind of wants to punish him for not actually spending time with her by moving away. Jean doesn't want to let her, but he also doesn't really have a choice, and PSU might be far but at least he knows Elodie will have people there to reach out to if she needs it.

Joke's on Elodie though because going to college to annoy your brother does mean she just conned herself into taking classes and figuring out what to do with her life now and she has to do it while dodging 20 phone calls per hour. Anyway now that she's on PSU she has to learn how to do human person things like making friends. She ends up joining a roller derby team as a combo meeting people-getting exercise-venting anger deal.

Robin, on the other hand, is going through a similar situation where Andrew just graduated, and Neil is in his last year, so she's about to lose her anchors at PSU. Once Neil graduates, she won't have anyone to night practice with anymore, so she also joins the roller derby team to fill in her nights, in a way of trial-running how to maintain some sense of routine and normalcy and maybe make some friends as well.

And that is how the world's saddest most traumatized girls meet. They have no idea who the other really is at first because Elodie doesn't follow exy out of spite and they also don't tell each other their full names because they are very googlable and the team is for both of them a way to finding who they are outside of what happened to them, so they don't want to invite the past in there.

Neil figures it out pretty fast though, since he's been keeping an eye on Elodie, but he tells no one because he thinks it's going to be funny when Andrew and Jean (who absolutely hate each other) discover they're dating (He's right). The basic idea I have is that everyone kind of finds out at the same time when Andrew and Jean play against each other in a nearby city and both Elodie and Robin come to watch and it's a very spiderman pointing meme moment all around.

Getting to truly know each other then is a blessing and a curse because the similarities between their stories are as important as the differences. Elodie would have given everything to have parents that would want her back home and want to protect her and Robin would kill to have her family understand and relate to her trauma the way Jean does. Elodie genuinely cannot understand Robin's guilt over escaping by dooming another girl because she would have actively killed without remorse to break out. Robin doesn't get why Elodie is bitter over having to be rescued when she used to dream about someone finding and saving her. It's a very "grass is always greener on the other side" situation, and they clash a lot, but eventually they work it out.

I'm also thinking of having Robin being conflicted over whether she wants or even is capable of going pro (since as per the EC she technically wasn't good enough to be recruited if not for Andrew's constant endorsement). I'm not sure what Elodie would be majoring in, but that's fine because neither is Elodie. So that's something else they're both dealing with.

That's mostly what I have so far, I'm hoping some day this fic will grow a plot that can hold my attention so I can actually write it.

[mercuriians]

my paradise

jjk,, k. nanami x fem! reader

content info — short drabble, angst horribly and lazily disguised as fluff. <3 this fic was borne out of my own anguish upon witnessing certain spoilers. (gege hates us all)

author’s note — sorry for being mia. you guys all know how life can be. luckily i’m on break so i’ll do my best to send out at least one finished request 🙂‍↕️ i’ll fix this post’s format later, for now i hope you guys enjoy my first attempt at writing jjk.

"do you think heaven exists?"

you utter your question so softly, so innocently, in a timid whisper that seems like it barely even leaves your lips in the first place. the moonlight seeping from the window is dim, just enough to surround the room in a bleak, lazy kind of aura. nanami's just about ready to drift away into slumber—where it's dreamless and monotonous, and he simply just exists—but somehow there's a feeling that tugs at him. telling him that he should turn his body to face you, to see whether there's childlike curiosity within your eyes or quiet desolation.

so that's what he does. twisting around in the ivory bedsheets, he examines your expression with an air of diligence that probably shouldn't even be possible in the near-midnight hour. nanami ends up being a bit surprised. somehow you look calm. tranquil. like there's nothing else in the world worth focusing on but him.

but he still treads carefully, cautiously. "why do you ask, love?" nanami's voice is a bit hoarse, a little rusty from the lengthy time he's been silent.

perceptively, he sees the column of your throat move slightly as you swallow. "while i was on break earlier today, yuji asked me something," you admit. "he wanted to know how he could, in his words, 'give people a proper death' when the time came. and i guess that made me think about where we even go when we finally depart from this world. where our souls go to rest."

there's a small, intimate pause as nanami waits for you to continue.

"when we were kids, we were always told that there's a place for the good people and for the bad. obviously it's comforting to let yourself believe that it's all really that black-and-white, but i don't know." your voice trails off again. nanami doesn't know how much time passes when he sees your eyes become clouded over, like you're focused on something faraway. something distant, maybe something that wasn’t even there to begin with. "would there be some sort of paradise waiting for us when we die? would we even deserve that, kento?” you whisper.

he holds his breath.

it was exceedingly rare for you to succumb to such sentimentality. you were almost always driven with diligence, fueled by the need to stick to your schedule of early mornings, midday coffee breaks, and late shifts. in a world where curses ruthlessly threatened to enforce a strict hierarchy of chaos, he recognized the all-too-significant desire to at least maintain a reliable form of organization. especially considering the fact that you were both first-grade sorcerers. some of the very best.

but now, nanami's realizing that maybe, maybe the reason why you were always so vigilant is because there was no other option. there was no time to wallow in self-pity, to question why you both had to live in such a merciless society, to scream out in frustration and curse out every single damn thing in existence and wish that things had been at least a little bit easier.

either you accepted the cards you were dealt with, or you opted out of the game permanently.

nanami quickly wonders what that means for himself. but he shakes off the thought, shakes off the negativity that crept up on him for a split-second with the expertise that he's collected and honed over the years.

right now, his only objective revolved around you.

gently, he reaches out, touching your face with the calloused tips of his fingers. for a moment, he traces the smoothness of your skin, like a paintbrush to a canvas, before moving a loose strand of hair behind your ear. the way you look up at him with eyes just short of being teary makes his chest tighten, but he perseveres for you.

it's all for you. whether he likes it or not.

"i don't know the answer to that, and any sane person living on this planet wouldn't know either," nanami finally utters. as his words hit the empty air, he sees your pink lips curve upwards by the slightest bit. it’s like you can’t help but be amused by his trademark bluntness. even in the middle of such a bleak conversation, nanami’s glad that he can at least bring you some resemblance of joy.

“but the way i see it,” he continues, hand dipping down to find yours almost instinctively, “none of that matters.”

your brows furrow. you curl into his comforting figure. “what do you mean?”

nanami’s eyes meet yours. “i couldn’t give less of a damn about what happens after death. not when i’m here with you in this moment,” he whispers, unable to restrain himself from inching closer, closer towards your face, “and hopefully the millions after.”

his lips brush against your own. it’s tentative, even almost shy—his way of asking you if this is alright.

you seal the gap without a second thought.

nanami pulls you closer. his arms wrap around your waist, as if he was unwilling to ever let go.

the intimacy of it all is enough to make him forget that for a moment, he was lost in thought, lost in the realization that people truly were helpless to whatever happened in the afterlife. but really, above all else, he was a soldier—had been since the day he enrolled at jujutsu high. and as long as you were safe, nothing else would matter. including his own—insignificant, small, dispensable—life.

at that moment, nanami’s armor became yours instead.