#i hope i answered the question somewhere in here....

[buf309]

Whatsy, my beloved beta and buddy-buddy 💕 I don't know where I would be without you 🥰 most likely getting lost somewhere in grammar hell 😂 One of the most friendly and wonderful people in this SxF fandom. It's always my honour to be your friend 💕

On the sidenote...

It seems that many people were confused about why Yor reacted so strongly to his touch in the 5th panel 😅 One person asked me directly, and I've answered in the comment section below. But, I guess I will just copy it here, easier to read and all that.

Well, first of all, this was Post-reveal!TwiYor, they were wearing rings, it was kind of hard to see because those rings were small, but they were there.

In the 1st panel, you can see, Loid was feeling restless in his sleep, so Yor tried to wake him up.

In 3rd panel, when she asked him about it, he didn't want to answer, and chose to deflect the question by teasing her instead.

That's why she was irritated and threatened to wack him with her magazine in the 5th panel 😄

The rest was just him being apologetic and telling her something sappy like he feeling safe and sound with her there, etc. etc. and they happily cuddled 😌 Happy end 😂

Also, this was meant to be Whatsy's version of TwiYor, so, no icha-icha actions for papa and mama while the baby was sleeping on top of them; quiet cuddle was fine though 😂

TL;DR: she was annoyed at his refusal to tell her what troubled him in his sleep, not at his touch.

I hope it clear things up for all of you?

This is a gift of pure fluff for @whateversawesome, inspired by her wonderful Twiyor fanfics.

Thank you for being a good friend and beta to me for a whole long year, my pal 🤗 I hope our friendship will continue for as long as possible in the future too.

[wingedshadowfan]

⚠️arcane s2 act iii spoilers // caitvi ending commentary ⚠️

the difference between the last individual scenes of vi and caitlyn, and the one they shared actually made me sob, so here's my analysis of what it all meant

caitlyn is at home, in her family mansion in piltover. her monologue seems to be a messege or an archive for the kirammans or historians after her; she's also looking at the kiramman house files, a family heirloom, a symbol of her legacy and her station, a connection to her mother. she's perhaps searching for something needed in order to start rebuilding the city, perhaps checking if jinx could still be somewhere out there, maybe even seeing what ekko saw about the undercity's vents and water ducts. she still seems to have purpose, or to be in search of one for herself.

vi is also in caitlyn's house in piltover, but she's not with caitlyn. in a city not her own, in a house not her own, it seems she's chosen to sit in a room alone with her thoughts, staring at the fireplace. we hear her humming the tune to a song her mother used to sing, the same one jinx was humming when we first saw her this season - vi's small comfort, the faintest memory from those before her, and nothing to leave to those after her. no roots and no legacy. she's grieving everyone and everything she's lost. stripped of will and void of purpose.

caitlyn is excited to hear vi humming a song. we don't know how long it's been since the war ended, but this implies she hasn't been doing much other than sitting by herself in silence in quite some time. she's become a shell of herself, and caitlyn is worried - she's there for her but doesn't want to push her either. she asks her if she's "still in the fight", and this is a loaded question that i can see two main meanings in - one notably sadder.

1) are you still in there?

what part of you is left, and is it strong enough to keep fighting this state you're in? do you have it in you to keep going? do you have the will to live in spite of it all? is there any fight left in you? are you still with me, or are you just in the room?

and i feel like caitlyn knows the answer but wants to hear it from vi, check in on her and encourage her to open up if she's feeling ready to. because she heard her humming to herself.

and when vi says she's the dirt under caitlyn's nails, she doesn't mean it in a cute, flirty or romantic way. she means it in a self-deprecating "i know i'm not being easy right now" kind of way.

i'm not fun to be around, to have to take care of and wait around for. i'm making things harder for you and i'm holding you back by not cooperating and just getting better. i can't help it.

and she adds onto this, "nothing's ever gonna clean me out"

you're stuck with me. i'm a nuisance to you but i can't leave you because you're all i have left. i think i'm lost and broken beyond repair. i'm crooked. i think i'll never be okay again.

2) have you given up on zaun?

are you still in on fighting the system? have you given up on trying to make others see your people for who you are? do you still have hope in the dream for unity and freedom for zaun?

it sounds like caitlyn does, and she's still up for it, just like she was in the latter half of the first season, before jinx kidnapped her, tried to get vi to kill her, and blew up the counsil building just as its members were about to vote for zaun's sovereignty, killing caitlyn's mother. but caitlyn can't do it on her own - it's vi's home, vi's people, vi's identity - and she needs to know if vi still believes they can change something.

and when vi says she's the dirt under caitlyn's nails, she doesn't literally mean caitlyn, or herself. she means the opposing poles they represent - piltover and zaun, oppressor and oppressed, a pristine policewoman and a crooked criminal. until piltover's view of the undercity and its people changes, zaun will always be a torn in its side, fighting it, defying it, trying to free itself from its clutches. small, perhaps insignificant, an inconvenience, but a part of it that it can't get rid of or erase. it'll always be there, it'll always fight back.

and when she says nothing's ever gonna clean her out, she means she'll never be bent out of shape and lose that part of herself - the ugly, dirty, raggedy part that grew up on the streets of zaun and was raised among all the tragedy, misery and poverty of the undercity. a product of the system. she'll never let that be "washed out" of her, she won't forget her origin or her goals. this is who she is, her identity - not just in the eyes of piltover, but in her own heart - a zaunite.

EDIT: i also saw this interpretation on tiktok if you're interested. to summarize: there's a spanish saying "like nails and dirt" which is used to refer to two people who are inseparable, so this is a testimony of vi's love for caitlyn having given her reason to keep going and stay by her.

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 17

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Scar's pov*

Poultryman leaves quickly but you can't help but keep feeling suspicious. Nothing concrete and his explanation does make sense but you can't help but feel that It was weird for him to just be there like that...

He said he heard of it but ... How did he do so quickly? And why was he just standing there...menacingly?

You don't get the time to think about it further and quickly forget about it as Cub messages you, the hero association wants to talk to you for some reason and that means something is wrong...

...You are a bit worried.

...

You uh... don't really know what to do, your fight and flight is going off in a way only a council of business people can make it go off.

The council is staring at you, you thought they wanted to tell you something not look at you with... judgement in their eyes for like ten minutes straight.

You try to break the tension by initiating the conversation yourself.

"H-hello?"

...

"You wanted to speak with me?"

They are still silent? Did you say something wrong? You literally just said hi-

"Indeed, a decision has been talen that we believe you should be informed of."

Ok, not silent anymore, that's good... Wait decision? They aren't demoting you or something, right?

"Did something happen?"

They look to eachother...ok...even more worrying. It's fine everything is fine, you are totally calm and chill and not anxious at all.

"No, but something will."

"O-ok?"

Points for being ominous for no reason.

"Hotguy, you cannot continue to work alone. The stakes are growing, it is becoming too dangerous.."

"Oh!"

Oh! Are they making a hero team? You always wanted one of those-

"We are not going to waste heroes on a team"

And just like that your hopes are dashed and crushed. Why are you still here...just to suffer?

"But then-"

"Hotguy, how would you feel about a sidekick?"

A... Sidekick? You don't know how to feel, superheroes are supposed to have them though so It must be a good idea!...Wait.

"W-who's going to be my sidekick? You said you weren't going to waste heroes."

"That has not yet bern decided, we plan to start an hiring process of sorts soon.""

Hiring? What's this? An office job?"

"Do not question us, Hotguy. It is thanks to us you are even here to begin with"

"Right! I am sorry."

"... This is where you come in"

"Huh?"

"A sidekick should not only be capable but should also work well with the hero, you'll have to be the final judge of character "

"Oh that makes sense... So I'll interview the candidates?"

"Not directly, we cannot risk that, you'll just have to prepare some questions for them to answer"

"Oh... Alright! I'll do it"

*Mumbo's pov*

You are in your apartment, Grian is off... somewhere. You have stopped questioning him around the time you walked on him peeling grapes ... You just hope he doesn't randomly die or something, that would be quite unfortunate.

You turn on the tv, not something you do often but it's a good way to pass the time when you aren't working on something which is thinking about it...very rarely. Surely today has been uneventful.

The mayor was kidnapping by his own office and Hotguy is randomly hiring a sidekick.

What in the world has happened today??

*Grian's pov*

So Hotguy is searching for a sidekick, what interesting timing.

Well, you cannot waste this opportunity to have fun, can you.

You prepare an outfit, you even have a perfect name for this.

Cuteguy.

...

You might have too many personas now... nah.

End of Chapter 4

[amber-tortoiseshell]

Hello!!! I'm working on a project that visualizes phenotypes of all kinds, but I've hit a minor road bump in copper and sunshine. I know they're on the same locus and I have bases for homozygous of both-- left is a black copper classic tabby, right is a black sunshine classic tabby.

If a cat is genetically sunshine and copper, would that be a case of co-dominance or will the cat only express one of the alleles while carrying the other? Should a cat be cop/sh or sh/cop?

Secondly, say a cat is widebanded and is expressing sunshine or copper, would that cat be, say, black golden? Black sunshine/copper? Black golden sunshine/copper? What if that cat is also silver?

Lastly, I know it doesn't happen on black-based self cats, but would any golden genes express on red self cats, even if the phenotype wouldn't point it out?

Any answer helps!! Thank you so much.

I have a confirmed compound heterozygous copper/sunshine cat for you! (The order of the alleles is pretty irrelevant, i think. Use which one you like more.)

To Fugaku de Nekobaa

The cattery is specialized to golden, and they have a lot of corins and corin carriers, both copper and sunshine. I found two good articles of theirs about the golden colors here and here (both in french).

You may notice that these cats, even if they are just carrying copper or sunshine, look very golden. I suspect there is some other type of wide band here; quite honestly, i'm convinced almost if not all reported copper cats are not purely copper but copper + non-corin wideband. (And there are probably more unknown corin alleles too.) Until we have a good grasp on the golden genetics, i think it's very hard to say anything about the effects of mixing genes and alleles. The wideband phenotypes (including non-corin golden, copper, sunshine and every combination) are just too variable and close to each other to answer questions like these.

Sidenote: that said, in my opinion intermediate instead of co-dominant would be a better term here, because the phenotype is probably somewhere between the homozygotes.

As for silver, I got the impression that copper+silver gives something like bimetallic too. (The resulting pale color is called rather confusingly sunshine by british breeders.)

Copper+silver cats are usually a lot more white than sunshine+silver ones; my theory is that this is mostly because the golden british lines are much more focused on golden shaded/shell than siberians, who are more likely to be golden tabbies.

And lastly, based on how red usually interacts with these kind of things, i'd say yes, likely red self and red tabby would behave the same under the influence of any kind of wideband.

I hope i could help at least a little, good luck for your project! It looks very cool so far.

[knivestothroats]

The Professionals masterlist In The Woods Somewhere masterlist | Professional//Victim masterlist

Here's a long ass update to make up for me posting infrequently. CW: human trafficking, captive whumpee, death threats We're gonna take it back now y'all

Day One

Something was deeply, deeply wrong. 

Tommy hadn’t been taken anywhere without Caius for more than five goddamn years. If he was being whisked off to a client, he hadn’t been prepped, and his handler wasn’t there to keep him subdued. Whatever pills Rory had given him back in the basement had worn off, and the panic was starting to set in. Did Caius even know he was here? 

The car came to an unexpected halt on a dirt road, a few short paces away from an old truck pulled off to the side. There was nothing else around for miles, nothing but endless forest. Even if Tommy could break away, he wouldn’t get far. The thick shock collar around his throat guaranteed that much. 

The windows slowly rolled down. They were letting him out here?

Rory got out, as did the driver of the pickup. The client(?) leaned against their truck, one hand in the pocket of their bulky denim coat, the other holding a small duffel bag by their side. They exchanged a few words that Tommy couldn’t hear, then peered right at Tommy. It sent a chill down his spine, like he was prey being spotted by a predator. They unzipped the bag and showed the contents to Rory, before closing it again and slinging it over their shoulder. The two of them shook hands.

Rory returned to the car, walking up to Tommy’s side. He reached through the window, unlocking the cuffs from around the door handle and reclosing them around Tommy’s wrists. 

“What are we doing?” Tommy asked. 

Rory opened the door and took hold of Tommy’s arm, pulling him out. 

“Where’s Caius?”

Rory didn’t answer, just guided Tommy toward the stranger and their truck.

“You never take me to clients,” Tommy continued, trying to keep his voice from sounding frantic and panicked. “I wasn’t briefed at all!”

Rory brought Tommy to a halt in front of the stranger, grip still firm on his arm.

Except… no, it wasn’t a stranger. 

Tommy recognized those cold, deep eyes; the way they watched him with a viscious hunger. 

Fletcher.

They had met at an event he’d been taken to as a product demonstration. Fletcher had taken an interest in Tommy, talked to him like a person instead of an object to be broken, and then was called upon by Caius to torture him in front of a crowd. And they delivered. 

They must’ve given in to temptation and finally rented Tommy to get to torture him again. But still… why wasn’t anyone telling him what was going on? 

“We good?” Rory asked. 

“We’re good,” Fletcher responded, eyes still focused on Tommy. “You can put him in the passenger seat.”

Rory pulled Tommy around to the other side of the truck and gave him a shove to step up into the cab. He secured his cuffs around the inner door handle again before shutting him in.

Why are we taking their truck?

Fletcher handed Rory the bag. Rory traded it for one much smaller he pulled from his coat pocket, dropping the handcuff keys into it before giving it over. 

“Pleasure doing business with you,” Rory said. He scurried off, past the back seat, past the truck entirely, and back to his own car, throwing the duffel bag in the trunk.

“Wait, wait, aren’t you coming?!” Tommy called after him.

Rory hadn’t answered any of his questions before, and he wasn’t going to start now. He got into the driver’s seat, started the engine, and drove away.

“Rory!” Tommy yelled as if there was any hope of being heard. “Where the fuck is Caius?!”

Tommy jumped when the door slammed shut opposite him. Fletcher, settling into the driver’s seat, kept staring at him with this look. Their face was expressionless, but their eyes were focused, like a sighthound.

Tommy curled in on himself, pressing against the door. His heart was hammering in his chest but he could barely move, caught somewhere between flight and fawn. 

Fight had died long ago. He worked with what he had left. 

Did Caius know where Tommy was, what was happening? Why would he not be here? Could he possibly trust Fletcher to take Tommy alone?

The truck started, and they pulled back out onto the road, heading in the opposite direction. Tommy stole a glance at Fletcher, searching for some sign of intention. 

What kind of body language says, “I am looking forward to killing you”?

But Fletcher wasn’t looking at him at all anymore; they just kept their eyes on the road. 

Tommy wracked his brains for anything he knew about Fletcher. 

He knew they liked to torture people. He knew they were a professional at it. They reveled in the reactions they elicited by causing pain. And he knew first hand that they were very, very good at it. 

Other than that? Not much. At the event where they had met, they were dressed up in a suit and tie. Now they wore a jean jacket over a flannel shirt, hair tucked under a beanie, cargo pants tucked into boots. Their truck was not new, though it seemed well maintained. There was a thin chain of charms hanging off the rearview mirror. What did any of this mean for him? His vision was going blurry.

“Please… don’t cry the whole time,” Fletcher groaned, putting their hand up. “It’s a long drive.”

Tommy hadn’t even realized he’d been crying. He hunched over and wiped his face on his sleeve the best he could.

“Sorry,” he sniffed quietly. “Where… are we going?”

“Back to my place.”

“And Caius is… okay with this…?”

Fletcher looked at him finally, raising an eyebrow. “They didn’t tell you anything?”

Tommy swallowed and shook his head. 

Fletcher turned their attention back to the road. “You’re not on a job; I bought you. Like, permanently, not for the night or whatever.”

Tommy felt cold suddenly. The truck was moving too much - he was dizzy. 

“No…” he said under his breath.

Fletcher raised their eyebrows at him again. “Yes.”

NO. NO. That fucker doesn’t get to just - what, throw me away, after all this? He took everything from me, made me exactly what he fucking wanted, and now - now he couldn’t even spare a damn goodbye?!

How could he get rid of me?!

He wanted to scream, and shout, and thrash and fight and demand god to strike down that dirty bastard. And yet, he was frozen, paralyzed by the weight of it. His chest ached like his ribs were curling in around his heart, crushing whatever was left of it in a fatal embrace. He wished it would. But the pain didn’t end, it just pulsed endlessly inside him. And he knew god would not strike Caius down, just like he hadn’t any other time Tommy had begged. 

As his situation started to sink in, his teeth started to chatter like he was freezing. He had to bite down to suppress it. He slowly turned in horror to Fletcher, as he realized the stranger beside him decided his fate. 

Fletcher was his master now; that’s what mattered. He had to find out what they wanted from him and deliver it.

“What, um… what do you want from me?”

“Mm…” Fletcher drummed their fingers against the steering wheel. “Household work. Teaching assistance. Punching bag.” Fletcher shrugged. 

Household work made sense - that wasn’t scary. Punching bag made sense, too, although he didn’t feel as good about it. 

“Teaching assistance?” Tommy echoed.

“Yeah, I run a training program for mercs and mobsters,” Fletcher explained. “It’s easier when I have someone to demonstrate on sometimes.”

“Demonstrate… what kind of things?”

Fletcher sighed, shrugged, shook their head. Fuck, he was annoying them already. 

“Like, holds, target spots, maneuvers, whatever,” was Fletcher’s explanation. 

Tommy didn’t ask any further questions, fearing Fletcher’s ire. He turned and watched the scenery out the window. This little trip was the most he’d seen of sunlight since he’d been sentenced to the hole, and he tried to soak up as much of it as he could. He pressed against the window, his face following the arc of the sun like a sunflower. There wasn’t much to look at other than fields and trees, the occasional train track cutting through. Farm houses and industrial buildings became more and more scarce as they drove. Fletcher turned on some music to fill the silence.

After what felt somehow both like a long time and far too soon, Fletcher slowed the truck. Tommy whipped his head around, trying to figure out why they would be stopping again on an empty country road. 

The truck turned seemingly at random and drove into the trees. It grew dark under the canopy of the branches above, and still the truck tunneled deeper.

Tommy’s anxiety bubbled up inside of him again.

They’re taking me out to the middle of nowhere to kill me. Caius always threatened that people would pay good money to snuff me, and he finally accepted an offer. All that stuff about housework and teaching was bullshit - that’s why their explanation was so flimsy. 

God, they were still driving. The truck was moving slowly, winding its way through the undergrowth and trees, but they were deep enough that Tommy couldn’t see the road.

He tugged on the cuffs again. What were his chances if he tried to run when they unlocked him? As long as he ran back the way they came…

They were nowhere near town. Maybe it was better just to hide somewhere until Fletcher… gave up on looking? And then, what? Build a shelter and fire with his bare hands? Hunt and forage for his food until he found his way back to civilization?

He tried to size Fletcher up, but the likelihood of him being able to overpower them seemed slim, considering the fact that they just told him they literally teach a class on how to hurt people, and he hadn’t eaten since yesterday. Still, no harm in trying if he was going to die anyway. But… if Rory gave them the keys, Fletcher probably held the remote to his collar as well. Tommy’s breathing quickened and he couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over again. 

The trees were beginning to turn vibrant shades of yellow and red, flittering down lightly when the breeze came through. 

At least it was a pretty place to die.

“Ugh, why are you crying?” Fletcher demanded. “There’s no way you liked those guys!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Tommy wiped his eyes against his shoulder. “I’ll stop. I’ll be good. Okay? I can do whatever you want. I’m - I’m really good at - at doing whatever… whatever I have to do.”

Fletcher glanced at him.

 “...Yeah.” It was blunt, like he had stated the obvious.

“You want me to beg, I’ll beg. You want me to shut up and I’ll shut up. I can help around the house, I can help with the training, I can - I can take a beating, I can do whatever you want. I can make you feel good. I can be useful, I just need to be alive to do it.”

A look of realization crossed Fletcher’s face. “You think I’m going to kill you.”

Tommy hesitated to respond. “I think… I can… prove that it’s better if you don’t.”

“I’m not going to kill you,” Fletcher scoffed. “Do you know how much I just spent on you?”

Tommy studied their face, trying to determine if they were telling the truth.

“A lot of people would spend a lot of money for that,” he answered quietly.

Fletcher chuckled. “Yeah, that’s true.”

“If… you’re not going to kill me…” Tommy spoke carefully, watching for any signs that he was making Fletcher angry. “What are we doing driving out into the middle of the woods?”

“I live here.”

Tommy looked out the window. “You live… in the woods?”

He flinched when Fletcher suddenly reached out and clapped a hand on his shoulder, giving him a sharp grin.

“We live in the woods.”

Just then, the world became light again. The truck entered a clearing, and pulled up to a house. 

It was so out of place it was disorienting to look at. 

“What…” Tommy was dumbstruck. “What is this place?”

“My house.” Fletcher parked and unbuckled. “I call it the lodge.”

“The Lodge” was well-built, modernized with solar panels on the roof without straying too far from a rustic look. It was huge for just the two of them, with a sizable clearing ringing the building. Swathes of land on the side were occupied with gardens, rows studded with crops of all sizes and shapes. 

It was also distinctly in the middle of bumfuck nowhere. Nowhere to run to, even if he got a chance. 

“Well,” Fletcher said lightly, pushing the gear shift into park. 

“Welcome home.”

~

“Alright, here’s the tour,” Fletcher said as they led Tommy inside. They left his wrists cuffed and guided him with a hand cupped around his elbow.

“This is the common area - living room, whatever you want to call it. TV, movies, books.” They pointed at the shelves as they spoke. “You’re allowed in here. This is the kitchen, help yourself to pretty much whatever. Some stuff will have people’s names on them, obviously don’t eat those. The rest is fair game. Just use common sense. If I meal prep I will let you know.”

“Wait, wh-” Tommy didn’t get his question out before Fletcher pulled him along.

“This is gonna be your room.” They opened a wooden door into a small room, sparsely furnished with a twin bed, bedside table, and dresser. An old lamp sat crooked on the table, and an odd extra chair sat beside the dresser. 

What struck Tommy the most was the window. A big, beautiful window looking out on the grounds, filling the room with sunlight. It was a far cry from his basement cell for that alone. Graying blinds were cinched up to the top of the window frame, and he couldn’t imagine wanting them closed. His eyes welled, but he had only a moment to look before Fletcher was dragging him off again.

“We’ll come back around.”

They led him down the hall. “Bathroom is here. There are three trainees living here right now.” 

Oh. The students. Tommy hadn’t realized they would be living here, too. The pit of anxiety in his stomach ached, a stark reminder of the danger he’d almost forgotten for one brief moment. 

Fletcher pointed at a set of closed doors. “Trainee room, trainee room, trainee room. Don’t go in there. That at the end is my room. Do not go in there. Upstairs is another bedroom and my office. No reason to go up there. Definitely don’t fucking go in my office. This door leads to the basement. It’s storage and, uh… miscellaneous.”

Fletcher led him back to the living room and pulled a box off the shelf. They popped the lid and dug around inside, withdrawing their hand victoriously clutching a sturdy-looking strap. A small black device was mounted on it, decorated with a blinking green light the size of a pin.

“Here, take a seat buh- bud.” A look of irritation crossed their face when they stumbled, but it passed just as quickly. 

Tommy sat cautiously on the couch, and Fletcher sat beside him. 

“Give me your leg.”

Tommy was hesitant, but with an impatient look from Fletcher, he twisted to reluctantly lay a leg across their lap. Fletcher pulled up his pant leg, bunching the fabric up around his calf before wrapping the band around his ankle. Tommy got a sinking feeling. Fletcher seemed less strict, but then immediately went for overkill. He already had the implanted tracker and the collar - how much more did they need?

With a jarring pull, Fletcher tightened it, a quick clickclickclickclickclick telling Tommy it was locking into place with the adjustment. They gave it a few hard pulls, satisfied when it didn’t budge. 

“Alright now, that’s going to stay on. If you try to mess with it, it’ll send an alert to my phone, and I’ll make sure you can’t run the old fashioned way.” Fletcher gave him a wolfish grin, and Tommy instinctively shrank away. They pushed his leg off and stood, beckoning him up and replacing their grip on his arm. 

“Shall we?”

Fletcher led him past the kitchen and through a glass door that opened out behind the house. They went through a gate in the chicken-wire perimeter around their farming plot. 

“This is the garden. We’re going to be spending a lot of time here. I try to guild it so it’s more self-sustaining, but it still requires tending and harvesting. Here we got onions, that patch is potatoes, the sisters are over there…”

“The sisters?” Tommy repeated, looking around.

“Corn, beans, and squash. Let’s see, we got lettuce here, sunchoke, tomatoes, carrots, peas. These are stinging nettles, so don’t touch them without gloves, but they have a lot of uses. The greenhouse is mostly herbs - I make tea blends. And squash growing on the ceiling. Also have backup crops of some of these, in case animals get at them too much. The shed has got normal shed stuff. Tools, mulch, firewood, snowblower, shit like that. Uh, don’t go in there either.”

“Wh-why?”

“Because I have axes and shit in there. Let’s go.”

Fletcher led Tommy across the clearing. They made it a few feet past the first trees when a loud beeping began emanating from Fletcher’s pocket. They stopped and pulled out their phone, holding it up to show Tommy before clearing the alarm. 

“You cross the treeline,” they pointed at the monitor around his ankle. “That thing will let me know. It has GPS, so I’ll know exactly where you are. And that’s just a redundancy, because your last owners gave me access to your tracking chip.”

Tommy’s stomach twisted, the familiar feeling of being trapped anchoring him again. 

���Okay. I understand.”

Fletcher led him back towards the house. “You have until the treeline.”

“Wait, wait,” Tommy slowed his steps, causing Fletcher to stop and look at him. “You mean I can walk out of the house and go all the way to the trees?”

“Yes, that was the perimeter,” Fletcher said. “I set it at the edge of the clearing all the way around. Just don’t go into the woods.”

“But I can… leave the house?” Tommy asked in disbelief. Even as he said it, it felt foolish. He must not be understanding. “Like, you’re making it sound like I can just… walk out and wander around outside.”

“Yeah. Until the treeline,” Fletcher repeated.

Tommy was speechless. Fletcher continued to lead him back inside, taking him to his room.

“That was the lodge in brief, any questions so far?”

“Um, yeah, I mean… I have a few, if that’s okay. I just - I just want to be able to… do a good job here…”

“Okay.”

“Um… the kitchen.”

“Yep.”

“You said I can help myself to food.”

“I did.” A pause. “Is there a question?”

“I guess… not?” Tommy said. “I just, um… like, how much… can I eat, I guess?”

Fletcher shrugged. “Eat when you’re hungry, stop when you’re full. I think you can handle that.”

It felt like a trap.

“And I can eat… is there like, going to be certain foods set aside that I’m allowed to have?”

“Mm, not really. If I do a big batch of food I might set some aside for you but for the most part, no.”

“So how do I…”

“If it looks like it belongs to someone - like, has someone’s name or is clearly someone’s leftovers - don’t eat it,” Fletcher said. “If it is regular, unclaimed food, go ahead. Just use common sense.”

Common sense hadn’t been a factor in Tommy’s decision making very much in the last several years. It was more dominated by anticipating and heeding the whims of whichever unreasonable freaks he was with at the moment.

But, there was nothing else to be said on that subject. He moved on to the next.

“You said I couldn’t go in your or the trainee’s rooms.”

“Correct.”

“How am I going to clean them?”

Fletcher furrowed their brows at him. “Clean them?”

“Well, yeah… I figured… I would be cleaning the house, right?”

“I mean, yeah, probably,” Fletcher conceded. “But they’re adults, they can clean up their own space. No one wants you poking around their stuff. And you’re definitely not allowed in my room. Or my office.”

Tommy nodded. “Understood.”

“Anything else?”

“Umm… I guess… not?” He had a thousand questions, but he didn’t want to risk pestering Fletcher too much right off the bat.”

“Okay. Great.” Fletcher paced slightly before stopping in front of Tommy again. “Here’s the thing. I want you to change your name.”

“Oh. Okay.” Made sense. New owner, new identity they would ascribe to him.

“Doesn’t matter what. Probably. Just… something else.”

“Okay.” 

They both waited.

“You don’t have to pick right now, I guess…” Fletcher began.

Tommy raised his eyebrows.

“Oh - I’m picking?”

“Yeah, dude.”

“Wh… well, what do you want to call me?”

“I don’t… really care, dude. You want to go by Davy again?”

Tommy felt a strange jolt at hearing his old name. An immediate tension in his body, accelerated heartbeat like it was a sign of danger.

Not to mention, Davy was long since dead. He was killed to make room for Tommy.

“Not… really,” he said sheepishly, drawing in on himself, afraid to give the wrong answer.

“What about James? A lot of people go by their last name here.”

Tommy put his head down, running his hands back and forth through his hair. Of course Fletcher knew his full legal name. It was just strange to hear it said back to him after so many years.

“Um… I don’t know…”

“Well, think about it,” Fletcher said. “It can be a nickname, I don’t care. Just something.”

Being Tommy felt right, felt natural in his role now. He’d gotten used to it. Tommy obeys, Tommy serves, Tommy gets punished. Tommy is owned by - Fletcher, now. It was an odd thought.

“Well, I’ll let you settle in here,” Fletcher said. “You can take it easy and adjust for the first day.”

They headed toward the door.

“W-Wait,” Tommy called after them.

Fletcher stopped and turned back.

“What about… what are my rules?” Tommy asked. Maybe he should’ve asked when Fletcher allowed him questions, but he had just assumed Fletcher would tell him on their own and he didn’t want to push them. But without Fletcher laying out his rules for him, how would he know how to navigate his existence here? How would he know how to avoid getting in trouble?

“Okay, yeah, um,” Fletcher clapped their hands together. “Mostly, just do what I tell you, when I tell you. Stay out of the places I told you to stay out of. Know your place. Obviously don’t touch any weapons - common sense stuff. Mostly just comes down to following orders.”

Tommy nodded. “Yes, Fletcher. Err…do you have a title you want me to call you?”

“Nah, just my name,” Fletcher said. “I mean, I don’t care if you call me ‘boss’ or whatever, like that, just don’t call me ‘master’ ‘cause that shit’s cringe. No sir or ma’am shit either. Got it?”

“Yes, Fletcher.”

Even though Tommy felt like he should be keeping rapt attention on Fletcher, he couldn’t keep his eyes from continuing to drift to the window. They got stuck there, watching the clouds drift across the sky, the grass and branches bow in the breeze.

“What?” Fletcher prodded. “You look like you’ve got something on your mind.”

“Oh, no, sorry,” Tommy said, looking back at them. “I just, um, haven’t had a window in a while.”

Fletcher stared at him for a beat. “What?”

“I was in the basement…” Tommy didn’t want to get into it any further than that.

“...Jesus. Okay, well, I’ll leave you to acclimate. Did you eat today?”

Tommy shook his head. He hadn’t been focused on his hunger, but once it had been pointed out, he could feel it stabbing at him from the inside.

“You should probably do that.” Fletcher slipped through the door, adding before they pulled it closed behind them, “You know where the kitchen is.”

@suspicious-whumping-egg @whumpyourdamnpears @generic-whumperz @lonesome--hunter

@whumplr-reader @theelvishcowgirl @sunshiline-writes @dont-be-gentle-please @galesgallery

@2in1whump @sparrowsage @apokolyps @whumpinggrounds

@morning-star-whump @leviiio @alexmundaythrufriday

@defire @jumpywhumpywriter @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@light-me-on-pyre @slightlydisturbedbeans @dislexiher @paperprinxe @desert-dyke

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @whatwasmyprevioususername @cursedandtired

@whump-only @misspelledwitch @redstainedsocks @thehopelessopus @im-just-here-for-the-whump

@thatsthewhump @utopian819 @pretty-face-breaker @thesuffererrrr

[timid-owl]

Viktor's character through The Line lyrics

I can't fight this time, now.

How tired do you think Viktor is of pain, of having to constantly bear his ill, weak, failing body that has been dragging him down for so many years? How hard has it been that he's so tired he can't fight it any longer?

Honestly, I thought I was fully prepared for the threshold in store.

I guess I never really faced my fears before.

How scared do you think he is of losing himself one final time and for good? Is it why he has conjured the Hex-Sky, to remind himself of who he was and what he stood for? To keep him on course? Like an echo of himself, that now he has to abandon?

Stay with me.

Keep the memories of who I was before.

I think that's really heart-wrenching how he's equally scared and doesn't want to face it alone, and at the same time, he's trying to keep a part of himself alive somewhere, even in someone else's mind.

Did I disappoint you?

I do interpret the whole song as both a dialogue with himself and with Jayce. I like to think that after their Council room session, they kept some mental connection, and here it's Viktor asking the question to both Jayce and himself.

Stay your pretty eyes on course.

Do you think it's the first time Viktor refers to Jayce's eyes as pretty? Do you think, if it is in fact a dialogue, it feels like a slap to Jayce? Like he can't breathe, like it hurts, like he wants to scream but there is no air as it is far too late.

I guess I never really faced my fears before.

Now you may say, "But Viktor was once literally prepared to die." Sure, but that time he would have died before losing himself. That was the whole point: leave while still remaining precisely who he was. And now he's at the verge of completely destroying everything his very self is and going against his every principle, which is precisely the worst of his fears.

Now to the angstiest parts.

Sure, there's nothing left to try?

I do believe that is meant like a question, same as "stay with me?" Like a final cry for help, like he's hoping Jayce — or something — might save him after all. Like if maybe Jayce would have intervened right here, right now, while they're all gathered around Viktor's hex-egg thing, he would have changed his mind immediately. Which is also why it's sort of full of contradictions and questions like he's babbling - stay with me but I'd rather you not, will they let me over if a do that... But there is no answer, and nobody is there for him anymore.

Will they still let me over?

This I tend to interpret in quite a biblical way, as in "people who, let's say, cross the line are not let into heaven." So... yeah, they won't, and even if there is I guess no details on Piltover's religion it's still ment in a rhetorical way as Viktor knows they won't, there is no possible redemption after this. And what Viktor is worrying about is not "crossing the line of shroom genocide" but more "crossing the line of not existing anymore" (I again think it's literally in the text, barely an interpretation). Like he is leaving his final note, and while he's writing it, he tries to find something, anything, that would keep him from doing the thing. But, again, there is nothing left aside from the light on his face.

Again, for me, this being a dialogue, I also feel like the "stay your pretty eyes on course" is his way of shutting Jayce up when the su*c*de metaphor gets too close to the surface. Like Jayce would start to protest, and Viktor would shush him. It even translates in the rhythm of the lyrics:

What could be, my final form Stay your pretty eyes on course

Honestly, I thought I was fully prepared for The threshold in store Stay your pretty eyes on course.

So yeah, I think the way it's so tender but also so devastating and desperate is probably one of the most beautiful, brilliant things the show gave us.

[benjaminvox]

"Loss is loss," Benjamin shrugs his shoulder, huffing a distant sound. Nowhere near a laugh, but more of an acknowledgment. "You shouldn't have had to go through that, anymore than I shouldn't have had to go through the things I did. Fuck, man. We were kids." watching as the beer arrived, and tilting his head in thanks.

The difference between the two men though? Benjamin's anger. That darkness that had been bred, and then honed. Living with vengeance was the only way he'd found any modicum of peace.

'You think it might right a wrong, give you closure — it won't'

Benjamin doesn't agree, and it says so as he shifts in his seat, causing the upturn of the corner of his lips. "Did you seek revenge? For your parents?" a pause. "Or are you guessing that it won't make me feel better?" There was a reason he'd been likened to Johnathan...that unwielded rage that most hadn't yet seen. The need to serve. The need to hurt. It lay under that young boy smile, the yet to age face.

And he needed somewhere to direct it. Finely educated, the only credentials he had was working for Melissa Lin. A title, and a fine reputation in itself...he'd bore quickly. He needed this.

'Whose fault is it then, Benjamin? Hers or yours?'

Benjamin doesn't answer immediately.

He sits on it. Traces condensation dripping down the glass in hand, cold seeping into his fingertips. His first instinct is to deflect, throw some biting comment back at Gideon that might force the conversation in some other direction, but the weight of it all, that fucking question settles heavily on top of him. His life, Melissa, his parents, Étienne...his brothers.

Benjamin felt like the world was weighing down on him, and he was it's sole bearer. It's not the first time he's wondered about it, too many times has it found it's way into his thoughts, his dreams...but having someone like Gideon ask it so bluntly strips away any excuse he might've leaned on.

Any chance he could escape those nightmares.

He's fucking lost. Staring. Like the young boy he was still, rummaging to the surface.

Benjamin hadn't quite lost that to his years yet.

"Both," he finally says, eyes vacant, blue a vast nothingness. He doesn’t look at Gideon, can't bare it, honestly: instead, his eyes finds the drink in his hand. "It'd be hers for pulling the trigger. Mine for giving her the reason to, I guess."

Loyalty was a dog: and he was her hound. Benjamin knows it’s not the answer Gideon wants, not the clean division of responsibility he'd probably hoped to hear. And he wouldn't lie to him, his mind had been moulded to Melissa Lin's tactics some eleven years ago...there was no changing his heel. But it’s the truth as Benjamin sees it. Melissa isn’t without her flaws, but she’s always been clear about the stakes. He accepted them the day he stepped into her world.

Into the Rutherford name. And while she commanded it, he obeyed.

He leans back, letting the chair creak under his weight. "Look, I’m not saying she’s perfect. Far from it, fuckin' hell...I'm meant to be smart, right. But... I owe her. A fuckin' lot. Not just for keeping me alive, but for making me into something. Someone. And yeah, that comes with risks. But doesn’t everything?"

Jabbing a finger over his shoulder, he shakes his head -- aware that there were parts of Melissa that Gideon refused to see. To acknowledge. "My parent's killer is here...drinking, laughing...and Melissa's checked in on me every two hours." The side eye, shoulders shrugging. She was his family. Benjamin knows he's justifying, fuckin' rationalizing. Gideon can probably see through it, but it’s the only way he’s ever been able to make peace. "I know you think I’m just another pawn in her game. And maybe I am. But...I chose this life. I know exactly what I signed up for."

Raising his glass, he huffs. "So if she shoots me one day? At least I’ll go down knowing I didn’t sit back and let the world tear me a-fuckin-part." He leans forward, his elbows on the table. "What about you? You’ve seen the same shit I have. What made you realise you'd never want...this" he knew Melissa well, knew a lot of what went on in the Rutherford's -- it was his job to know.

After everything Benjamin reveals about his past, it's less what he says and more how his voice breaks hoarsely over that single word, 'yep', that coaxes Gideon's begrudging sympathy for him. Silently, he hails the bartender, ordering another round of beers for them. Tonight, Benjamin can acquire his own, compliments of his allocation to the rich tents, but there's some goodwill hidden in the gesture nonetheless.

"It isn't all that similar, and I won't pretend that it is." He replies, concerning the demise of both their biological parents. "A car accident doesn't quite leave the same scars as death by unnecessary violence, and I certainly wouldn't have wanted to see what you stepped into, that day you found their bodies." No, it'd be insensitive to claim that he understood what Benjamin had experienced.

But he does understand loss, through and through. Time and time again.

'I can't let it go.' — That's what he's afraid of, that's the part that will consume the boy, if he lets it. Because the Rutherford's seen that too. Time and time again.

"There are plenty of occupations that don't involve breaking the law, Ben." Lest the young man feel he's trying to step into the role of father, unsolicited, Gideon adds;

"I'm just saying. And the thing about anger, is that there's no end to it. Your anger won't bring them back. Murdering Étienne won't bring them back. You think it might right a wrong, give you closure — it won't." He's seen it play out too many times among other members in his father's mob. Recruited with the sweet promise of vengeance, only to find it hollow once they'd sacrificed everything to obtain it.

'And if I die for it, then... That’s on me.'

Gideon takes another sip of his beer. "You haven't answered the question." The bottle settles back on the table, and the surgeon fixes him with a scrutinizing look. "I'm not asking if you die out of bad luck. I'm saying imagine a scenario where you change your mind. Where you decide 'to hell with it, I don't want to work for Ms. Lin anymore', and she shoots you point blank in return. Whose fault is it then, Benjamin? Hers or yours?"

[posletsvet]

You know, I read a theory that even makes sense that Kenjaku has an agreement with Geto and that Geto is conscious and knows what's going on, but I think Geto doesn't want to wake up because he has no motivation on earth, he lost his daughters and his Friend, I think he knows what's happening but he doesn't want to go back. What do you think of this theory? sorry for the text

Hi there, anon!!

Kenjaku having to enter a Binding Vow with a previous host (even if they manifest as no more than a lingering apparition in a form of muscle memory and whatnot) when changing bodies is quite an interesting suggestion! It somewhat ties neatly into the 'body vs. soul' discourse we've seen established in the manga. The two are repeatedly rendered inseperable within the story, two sides of the same coin, so whereas Kenjaku's Cursed Technique encompasses the physical body, something else may be needed to bind the soul. This would imply that Kenjaku's immortality is not entirely a product of their innate abilities, but a result of innovation and inventive application of those. How much experimentation did it require for them to figure out optimal conditions for that vow? That seems to be very much in Kenjaku's 'mess-around-and-find-out' fashion, if you ask me. And though I myself gravitate towards a different interpretation -- one that views this 'soul-binding' process as an organic, built-in effect of Kenjaku's CT -- since we don't know the exact mechanics of it, this theory has a right to exist!

Moving on to your next point, I strongly agree with your assessment that Geto has no motivation/desire to carry on with his life. Perhaps 'meaning' in this case would be a quite fitting word, too, because if he was to ever come back to life his resumed existence would lack, at least in his own view, that very thing -- meaning. Justifying past actions and past mistakes retroactively, trying to assign some greater meaning to what was rather an impulsive, emotionally driven reaction of someone who was struggling mentally for a long time with no one batting an eye, compartmentalizing complex reality into imaginary categories -- doing all that Geto essentially ran himself into a corner, a mental dead-end. In an attempt to validate himself and perhaps shut out the overwhelming sense of guilt that would otherwise eat him alive, Geto made delusional, twisted reasoning the core truth of his existence, a basis for his purpose.

What I find particularly interesting is that Geto, being himself the victim of the jujutsu society's dysfunctional system, clearly recognised its shortcomings, but attributed those to a factor only partially at fault. The telltale sign of that, as I see it, would be his confession that he never held any spite against those in Jujutsu High. This renders Geto's antagonism towards non-sorcerers misplaced. The system was put in place for a reason, it's true, but those in favour of whom that system was established should not be held accountable for its injustices. Instead of trying to improve the order, Geto opted for eliminating the reason it exists in the first place.

Where that leaves him is caught up in a struggle to achieve the impossible, breach that accursed gap between the ideal and reality. Even if Geto's goal wasn't impossible for anyone but one person alive, Gojo Satoru, his decade-long endeavour to wipe all non-sorcerers out of existence would still be in vain, meaningless. Because that simply would bear no fruit in regard to fixing the corrupt mentality that rules over the sorcerers' world.

And if it all was for nothing, just fumbling desperately for some solution, for some relief of the burden thrust upon his fellow sorcerers, futile in the end? What if what he put his life on the line for was never going to solve anything, what if he was not reaching anything with it? What if he was wrong all along? It is straight-up terrifying, to drown and erase yourself fully in pursuit of your goal and understand that all you've done, you've done in vain, misguided, wrong. And Geto couldn't undo what he'd done. He could not afford to look back, to slow down, to revaluate and reset, try to set things right. Acknowledging his fault would've been like staring into the sun. So he didn't. He kept pushing forward until he simply no more could. That's why, in my view, Geto's plan regarding the Night Parade of a Hundred Demons reads as low-key passively suicidal. He chose a meaningful way to end his life -- one that would entrust his legacy to his family, make his goals, his ideal, known to both sides. In that regard, his death is no different from Gojo's: he dies so that his dream could live on. Little did he know that this too, in fact, would be meaningless.

[shotmrmiller]

simon who can afford a better flat than the budget friendly flat he lives in but won't move. johnny doesn't understand. he wants to blame it on simon being the enigmatic, intentionally perplexing man he tends to be but he has a flat.

he doesn't have to. he's got no significant other, no kids (that he knows of, god only knows if simon's got a bairn somewhere. it makes him heated thinking about it. he's it's uncle, damn it.) why does he rent here when living in base is free?

the question answers itself when he's over one evening, empty beer bottles on the table, amber glass reflecting the warm glow of the lone lamp overhead. the television is on, volume turned down, blending with the other sounds of the night— the distant barking of dogs, the quiet hum of simon's fridge, the occasional car passing by outside.

the conversation had died down already, not like they don't spend almost every waking breath with each other at work and they'd been sitting in a comfortable silence when there was a sudden, sharp knock at simon's door.

it startles johnny, reaction instinctive as he reaches for his hip, hand curling around the grip of his holstered gun but simon seems relaxed. he pins him with a look and mutters, "s'alrigh'."

what does he mean it's alright? it's 'witchin' hour'' as his mam calls it, who could possible be at his door? he cranes his neck to look and—

it's you, standing up here with a flour-dusted apron, small hands holding a warm pastry, the steam twisting and curling off of it. you're exude homely charm, soft face glowing from the corridor's light (or maybe it's at the sight of seeing simon, who knows?) he can smell it in the air, sweet, inviting.

what johnny finds interesting enough to send a quick text to kyle is how simon is looking at you. as if you're handing him more than just a custard tart, but also a little piece of heaven, a fragment of a dream he hopes to have one day.

"'m sorry, simon. i wasn't aware you had any company. i just really needed to stress bake or i would've gone off the deep end and end up in prison."

violent little bonnie. he can see the appeal.

simon cups his hands over yours (he definitely did it as an excuse to touch you) as he takes the treat. if you make food to unwind and give it to your neighbors, johnny oughta move in next door too. he'll never turn down free food.

"don't worry about it." johnny's eyebrows shoot to his hairline at the softness in his tone, bottle halfway to his lips.

clearly more than a passing fancy.

"i'll just uhm, if you're friend wants some too—" but simon gently interrupts you before he can ask for some of that sweet comfort too.

"he's not hungry."

cruel, cruel bastard. he'll remember this day, jot it down in his calendar. when he gets a girl of his own, he'll be sure to do the same.

johnny wonders if you've got a crick in your neck from looking up at simon as you speak hushed words, meant only for him. can he get at least a nibble of that tart?

you shoot johnny a shy ㅤsmile before turning around and simon closes the door, turning back to the warming beers, golden tart in hand.

even the plate it's on is cute.

"ah can see the hearts in yer eyes, lt."

johnny can practically hear the air parting as simon's fist cuts through it, aimed at his head. he avoids it with practiced ease. "ooh, touchy. ah'll leave ye be if i get a bite o' tha'."

he doesn't gets not even a crumb because simon is selfish.

(simon moved here purposefully because he knows you live here and can't be at peace without knowing where you are at all times. there's a tag inside your favorite pair of shoes you left out in the hall once to dry after a hard downpour. the bakery you work at is down the street, if he looks out the south facing window, he can see you going in and leaving work. he likes to let himself in your home and smell your cushions. took one of your shirts too but at least made sure it wasn't one of your faves. he has to wash it every other day)

[mattybsgroupie]

help | chris sturniolo

contents: fwb; first time; fingering (f receiving); p in v; use of “y/n”; virgin!reader; soft dom!chris

♡⊹𑄽୧

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ notes: oh maria you said you’d post weekly WELL I LIED. i got pretty busy with college but ! only a few weeks left till the semester is over ♡ finally had the guts to write chris and i think i’m finally ready to admit that i NEED to have sex with him lmao. a bit different from the usual stuff (it's chris being sweet with a sub!virgin!reader) and not proofread as usual, but hope you enjoy ♡

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ requested by: anon

♡⊹𑄽୧

“ma” chris chuckled. when he noticed i wasn’t kidding, his blue eyes suddenly widened in disbelief. “are you serious?” he said in a high-pitched tone.

“well, someone should’ve told me that being a virgin is a crime” i rolled my eyes, closing my fist and playfully punching his shoulder.

“ouch!” chris pretended to be hurt. his brothers were traveling and he couldn’t stay alone with his thoughts for too long, asking me to come over and keep him company.

“i mean” he started, clearing his throat. “it’s not a crime. i just don’t understand how?” i narrowed my eyes and chris knew that meant watch your mouth. “c’mon, you know how hot you are”

“shut up, chris” the corners of my lips gave away how much i enjoyed hearing that.

chris slowly dragged his feet on the wooden floor, coming closer to me. one of his hands stopped by my hips, giving a light squeeze there.

“i’m not kidding” he whispered in a gentle tone, his blue eyes tenderly looking at me. “you’re a virgin, but you know how it works... right?” he raised one of his eyebrows.

i denied with my head, trying to look somewhere else.  “what do you mean? no one ever made you feel good?” chris questioned me again. i sunk my teeth on my bottom lip, refusing to answer him again.

i had never been intimate with any guy, and chris knew it. what amazed him was the fact that i couldn't even make myself cum.

“nah” he said, a smirk appearing on his face “y/n, you never had an orgasm?”

i could feel the sudden heat spreading through my body, the fingers he had pressed against my skin becoming warmer, my cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“how come a pretty girl like you has never felt good, hm? we gotta change that, don’t you think?” chris said, tucking my hair behind my ear before taking his fingers to my jaw, his thumb gently lifting my chin so i'd look at him.

my heart started beating faster as his grip on me grew tighter. chris leaned in and sealed our lips in a gentle, lingering kiss, full of affection and care.

he pulled away, a silly grin hanging on his mouth. “you had done this before, right?” he teased and i rolled my eyes, letting go of him.

chris pulled me back, wrapping his arm around my waist, this time locking our lips together in a passionate, almost desperate kiss.

“let me make you feel good” he said and i let out a deep sigh, my hands immediately going to his hair, gently pulling his locks. chris moaned and wasn’t planning on holding himself back.

his sounds sent a shiver down my spine and i immediately felt myself getting wet. the grip chris had on my waist grew stronger and our tongues were fighting for dominance until he pulled away, catching his breath. a tiny strand of saliva still connected our lips together, his were swollen and flushed as if we had been making out for hours. 

chris placed both hands on my cheeks, cupping them together before placing delicate kisses across my face. i only noticed chris had been leading me towards his room when my back touched the door, the sound of wood creaking open removing me from my trance.

“you’re such a player, aren’t you?” i chuckled, noticing my situation. i couldn’t run away even if i wanted to, chris’s arms were placed on each side of my shoulders, holding me in place. “how many girls have been here before, huh?”

“you’re the first one” he said, going to my neck and starting to suck my exposed skin, making me gasp from the sudden contact.

“liar” i breathed out, tugging on his hair. chris chuckled and stopped the kisses, his gaze trying to tell me something. “i wouldn’t lie to you” he said, the emotional tone on his voice showing he was being truthful to me and to himself.

“but… you’re not a virgin” i said, placing my palms on his chest and dragging my index over his shirt, drawing circles on the white fabric.

“that doesn’t mean i’m a slut!” chris widened his blue orbs and a fake moan came out of his mouth when i playfully twisted his nipple. “i think you are” i giggled, opening the door and walking into his room. 

i threw myself on the bed, striking a sexy pose. i took off my slippers and crossed my foot over my leg, calling chris with my index finger.

he grinned mischievously, locking the bedroom door and walking towards me. chris was standing in front of me, his legs slightly parted, biting his lower lip. i adjusted my position and raised my palms up to his waistband, teasing him.

“hey, no” chris said, taking my wrists. “this is about you” he started, gently pushing my body against the mattress and crawling on top of me.

“i’m gonna take care of you. i don’t care if i end up cumming in my pants” chris chuckled, his hardened cock showing through the gray fabric.

i simply nodded, my cheeks flushing from the affection and attention. i was aching for him. i could feel my pussy throbbing, the wet patch on my panties growing bigger with each kiss.

chris tugged on the hem of my shirt, silently asking for permission to take it off. he mumbled a small “fuck” while placing his palm underneath the cloth, his large hand pressing against my tummy and making its way upwards. he groped my breasts and with his free hand, removed my shirt. “y/n... god” he whispered, “can i see 'em?” chris asked about my boobs.

“please” i moaned, wrapping my legs around his waist and bringing him closer to me. “just make me feel good, please” i pleaded, tangling my fingers on his brown locks.

“i got you ma” he chuckled at my eagerness. chris placed kisses on my collarbones and reached for my breasts, his sneaky fingers untying my bra and letting them fall free next to his face. chris clenched his jaw, licking his own lips.

“you're so fucking beautiful” he praised, placing a peck in one of my nipples. the gentle act sent a shiver down my spine, making me gasp as he started to carefully lick my hardened nub.

i could feel chris's cock lazily getting dragged against my thigh, his hips moving in a slow, rhythmic pace. he breathed heavily against my skin and each time his tongue circled around my nipple i whined.

i needed more.

“chris” i called him. “i need you— need you so bad”

“i'm right here princess” he whispered, trailing kisses down my torso. “let's go slow, yeah? i promise you're gonna feel so good” he assured me, both indexes playing with the strands of my shorts. i nodded desperately, lifting my hips up and helping him to remove my last piece of clothing.

“shit” chris muttered under his breath. “we’re both so fucking wet” he gazed at my drenched panties and then at his own pants, a wet spot of pre-cum forming on the fabric.

chris brushed two of his fingers over my underwear, nudging my clit. my jaw went slack and my thighs involuntarily attempted to close. chris chuckled lightly, tapping my knees and forcing my legs apart.

he positioned his body in between my thighs and slid down on the mattress, his face resting on my hipbone. he began to fiddle with the seam of my panties, teasing me, as if he was going to pull them off at any moment.

“stop fooling around” i softly spoke, not really mad at him. “but she's so pretty” chris said, dragging his index across the damp fabric and pouting his lips. i giggled, ruffling his hair.

chris's bright blue eyes had a both kind and concerned gaze, and he used his sense of humor to soothe me. “good girl, let me have fun here” he pulled my panties down, leaving me fully exposed.

chris gulped dryly and licked his own lips before placing two digits in between my wet folds, stroking every inch of my pussy. i gave out a deep sigh when his fingers reached me and whimpered when chris began to spread my lower lips.

chris then moved his thumb to my clit, rubbing it in circular motions. my hips instinctively bucked upwards, making me bring my palm to my face and cover my mouth in embarassment.

“don't hide it” he ordered, “i wanna hear you. i wanna hear that you're feeling good, that i'm the only one who makes you feel good”. chris laid down next to me, pulling me near his chest. he locked our lips together as his fingers remained against my pussy, slowly fondling me.

“taking me so well, princess” he whispered, smooching every spot he could reach. “think i can put a finger in? have you done this before?” chris asked, his voice full of concern.

“i… i tried” i confessed, reminding him that i had never gotten all the way to the end. “gonna go real slow f'you” he said, his middle finger slipping down my folds and reaching my entrance. chris pressed my hole and gradually entered me.

when he got all the way in, my jaw was hanging open as i panted heavily and chris kept on praising me, “there you go, such a good girl. it's all in baby, 'm so proud”.

he allowed me to stay like that for a while, getting used to his size, i moved my hips downwards when i was finally ready and chris quickly understood, curling his finger inside my walls and reaching for my sweet spot.

the knot in my lower belly tightned when he found it. “theeeere we go ma” he said, thrusting into me as he massaged my clit.

“chris” i called, desperation taking over me. “i'm f-feeling it— ah! i'm g-gonna—“

“shh, i got you. you wanna cum on my fingers?” he asked, speeding up the pace of his thrusts. “no? where then?”

“your cock, please” i said, not a thought going through my mind. all i cared about was having chris inside me. “fuck, i’m not gonna last long if you keep talking like that”.

“are you sure? we don’t have to do this, y’know” chris said and whined. “no! i want it!”

chris immediately stood up, hovering over me. he removed his pants, cock slapping against his lower belly. chris was huge, the flushed tip leaking pre-cum all the way down his veins. i held my breath nervously when he started to pump his shaft, coating his dick.

“shit, i forgot” chris spoke. “i don't have any condoms here, fuck”

“pull out” i told him and chris widened his eyes. “i'm on the pill, i promise” i chuckled, calming him down as he placed himself in between my legs.

“well, i wouldn't mind putting a baby in you” he spoke and i could feel his swollen, leaking tip rubbing against my lower lips, trying to get in. it wasn't long until my walls were stretched out, fitting chris inside of me. it burned and it hurt like i never felt before, my nails digging on his back as i squeezed my eyes shut, trying to adjust to his size.

chris began to to move his hips cautiously, just enough to make me moan. “fuck fuck fuck” i whimpered as his cock filled me up. i could feel my orgasm approaching, overwhelmed by the new sensation.

“‘m close” i cried, “so close chris fuck!”

“don't hold yourself back princess” he said, encouraging me. his fingers went to my clit, rubbing it quickly. his cock, his words, his fingers — it was all too much. the knot in my lower belly snapped and i felt my body collapsing, my mind going blank as my orgasm washed over me. my whole body trembled as chris held me close, whispering praises at me.

i whined when he removed himself, spurting his cum all over my belly in a loud groan. chris threw himself over me, nuzzling his face against my chest. “i think i’m in love with you” he said. i giggled, playfully pulling his hair “shut the fuck up, chris”.

“thank you for helping me, handsome. it was so much better than i had expected” i thanked him and he gave me a peck “anytime, princess”.

♡⊹𑄽୧

taglist (drop a 🌸!): @thepubeburgler @submattenthusiast @pearlzier @mattsfavbitchhh @bugeyedgrl @sturncakez @riowritesitall @mattsturnswife @sturnsmia @sturnthepot @mattscoquette @conspiracy-ash @ilovemattsturn @lizzymacdonald06 @blahbel668 @fratbrochrisgf @bagsbyclair0 @sturnobsessedwh0re @cayleeuhithinknott @sturniolo04 @1c3b4th @mattsfavbigtitties @bellassturniolo @sturnsxplr-25 @ivammbb @shadowthesim @stefansring @teeheeomg

♡⊹𑄽୧

[gay-dorito-dust]

Howdy again! I love your writing for the batfamily sm so here I am again!

The bat boys forgetting to kiss their s/o when they get home from patrol (it can be smthn else, just them getting home from somewhere) like this TikTok !!

If you see this I hope you have a lovely day! Thank you sm !!

Jason

You couldn’t help but pout when Jason passed you by with not even a little kiss to the cheek or your forehead.

Jason has never, ever missed an opportunity to kiss you when he came back from patrol as it would vary from what type of mood he’d come back in.

Soft, slow and passionate for the ones that went well.

Rough, hard and aggressive for the ones that didn’t go so well and had to involve getting his hands dirty.

So when he completely blanked you at the door, you were confused and slightly hurt at this as Jason was never one to forget to kiss, hug and or cuddle you, ever!

‘Excuse me mr Todd.’ You called as Jason looked up from his book. ‘You forgot something very, very important.’ You add but Jason only smiled as he sets aside the book, pulling back the covers as he pats his lap twice. ‘I didn’t forget, I just wanted us to get comfortable before I kiss you senseless.’ He admits as he watched you with an adoring look as you got close enough for him to pull you to him by the waist, your hands braced on his shoulders as you giggled.

‘Are you sure you didn’t forgot or are you trying to make up for the fact that you forgot to kiss me senseless at the door?’ You asked sarcastically, already knowing the answer as you felt Jason cup your face between his large hands, his lips mere inches away from your own as his breath fanned your face.

‘Can’t it be a bit of both?’ He jokes, ‘now how long should a kiss you for?’ He wonders aloud and you couldn’t help but make a suggestion. ‘Ten seconds to smack up for the ten minutes you’ve been here and haven’t kissed me yet.’ You really wanted that kiss and you’ll get it however you could if Jason was the one offering it up to you.

Jason hummed as he rested his forehead against yours, murmuring. ‘I’ll double it for you being a sweetheart and waiting for me when you didn’t have to.’ Before giving you a soft, tender kiss as his lips weaved between your own passionately as though kissing you was something Jason took immense pride in.

Which he did, very much so as he brought his hands back down to your waist, keeping you close as you moved your hands to cup his jaw, feeling it move under your touch as you hummed against his lips for the next couple of seconds before feeling the need to breath.

‘Did you enjoy my make up kiss chipmunk.’ Jason asked with a smirk but you could tell he was being genuine in his question. You loved this man and his soft heart that you couldn’t help but smother his face in kisses for the sake of showing him that you love him just as much as he loved you, making him chuckle wholeheartedly as he somehow tugged you even closer to him just to feel you pressed against him, reminding him that you were here with him and not a figment of his imagination as he drowned himself in your affection.

‘It was more than perfect my sweet boy.’ You said as you kissed both of his warm cheeks and cuddled yourself into his chest, wanting nothing then to be as close as you physically could to him.

Bruce

Noticed that you were pouting more than usual and would occasionally huff disgruntled from time to time, but it was enough for him to want to speak up about it.

‘Is there a reason you’re huffing my dear.’ He’d ask as you were both getting ready for bed.

‘You didn’t kiss me when you came back from patrol.’ You pouted even further as you suddenly felt a little childish about your grievances with him. Bruce couldn’t help but smile as he brought his hands up to your face and began caressing your cheeks with his thumbs.

‘I didn’t?’ He asked but his eyes shone with a hint of mischief.

‘No you didn’t, you’ve left me with no kiss for the past thirty minutes.’ You replied as you melted further into his hands while trying to still be upset with him for not kissing you after a long night of patrol, sure it was a little selfish but it was your thing to convey that things were okay or going to be okay at least!

‘I apologise my dear,’ Bruce said as he tightened his grip on you, keeping you staring his chest as he kept an observant eye on you for your every reaction, ‘how could I ever make it up to you? Maybe this?’ He trails off a she lowers his head so it was in your neck as he trailed it with slow, gentle and lingering kisses that had you bringing a hand up to his hair, giving it a half hearted tug before caressing it as a apology of your own.

‘It’s a start.’ You hummed as you closed your eyes, ‘but I’d much rather have your lips on mine rather than on my neck.’ You added as you felt Bruce stop and lift his head from your neck, much to your dismay as you opened your eyes to see his face within inches away from yours.

‘I’d gladly kiss you anywhere your heart desires but if it’s your lips that you want me most, then who am I to refuse.’ Bruce purrs as he was about to close the distance between the two of you, only for the door to burst open as a little Dick and little Jason ran into yours and Bruce’s room.

‘What’s happened, are you both okay?’ You said as you pulled away from Bruce, looking between the two fidgeting boys.

‘Jason threw up.’ Dick said as he helped keep his brother upright.

‘Sorry.’ Jason said groggily, the poor boy looking deathly pale.

You and Bruce looked at each other knowingly, that kiss was going to have to wait as you both left to bed to tend to your precious boys.

Dick

You didn’t confront him about his blatant avoidance in kissing you when coming home from patrol until you were both tucked in bed, ready for sleep when you suddenly spoke in the silence.

‘How long have you been home for my sweet Dickie bird?’ You asked as you rested against his chest, tracing patterns into his skin.

‘Twenty minutes? Why?’ Dick asked, slightly confused why you were focusing on the duration of when he got home after patrol.

‘So for the past twenty minutes you didn’t realise that you didn’t kiss me like you usually do when coming home from patrol?’ You inquired as you saw Dick’s confused expression drop as the realisation settled in for him. ‘Starting to recall?’ You added sarcastically as you rested your chin on his chest, brows raised as you watched his expression become apologetic as he looked at you.

‘Aww has my cutie been waiting for me to realise my error and make up for my negligence of your needs and wants?’ Dick asked as he chuckled softly, finding it adorable that all you wanted before drifting off to sleep was a kiss from him, it warmed his heart to know that you thrived off of his affection like he did with yours. It was like a reminder that you loved each other and thought of one another constantly.

‘Yes, it was very rude of you to ignore me, even after I waited the entire night for you.’ You responded as though you were deeply disappointed, but you didn’t move away when Dick moved your head to kiss you on the lips, giving your bottom lip a playful bite as you groaned in response as you kept Dick against your lips by place your hand at the back of his head to get as many kisses as you could from your beautiful man.

‘Is my sweetheart satisfied now?’ Dick asks when he pulls away, ‘or did you want more kisses as compensation?’

You gave it some thought before looking at him, smiling slyly, ‘I think a few more kisses couldn’t hurt-‘ but it seemed as though dick was head of you as his lips were back on yours and your hand was back to tangle with his hair, keeping him close as Hayley feel asleep at the foot of your bed like the good pup she was.

Damian

Sees that your paying more attention to Titus then him, cuddling up to the Great Dane and talking to him as though he could respond and give you the much needed advice you needed.

‘What’re you doing treasure.’ He asked.

‘Did you hear that Titus? I sure didn’t.’ You said as you messed with Titus’s floppy ears as the dog remained calm and content with his current situation, that snd having your affection was a bonus for the doggo.

Damian groaned. ‘Is this because I didn’t kiss you once?’ You stopped playing with Titus’s ears but didn’t once look back to address him.

‘There’s a voice that I should be listening to but I don’t feel like doing so because apparently it’s childish and pathetic to want affection.’ You said aloud as you then got up from the floor and began to walk towards the bedroom with Titus on your heels along with your newest addition, Atticus, a golden retriever pup that Damian found out through Tim was about to be sent to a kill shelter.

‘I did not say that!’ Damian said as he followed after you, grabbing your arm in his grasp and pulling you so that you were face to face with him. ‘So stop being dramatic and let me make it up to you.’ He adds but you were stubborn to forgive him for his transgressions.

‘I don’t think I want that kiss now, you’ve wasted long enough to give it but haven’t so don’t bother-‘ before you could finished your sentence, Damian quickly kissed you on the lips before pulling away to shield his flustered expression behind his hand.

You blinked once, twice, three times before a massive smile graced across your face as you moved Damian’s hand to hold your own and intertwine your fingers as you dragged him to bed with you and the dogs.

‘You tricked me.’ Damian said as soon as he was in your shared bed, realising what had just happened within a short span of time, and the suspiciously quick change in emotions from you.

You merely shrug as you cuddle into his side. ‘Shouldn’t have forgotten to give me my kisses.’ You stated as though it was obvious and Damian couldn’t help but chuckle softly to himself at just how eager he was to make you happy, even giving you a kiss you claimed you were robbed of.

‘I shall keep that in mind for the future.’ Damian said as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head before falling asleep alongside you. He didn’t forget a single kiss in the future but he also did keep bringing in animals he found in dangerous situations.

[harrysfolklore]

tom blyth being obsessed with his girlfriend: a compilation

this was inspired by @astranva’s famous blurbs, love you and miss you novs <3

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

It seemed like the entire world was crushing on the same man: Tom Blyth

Unfortunately for those who watched The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes and came out of the theater in love with the man who played Coriolanus Snow, he was happily taken and loved to talk about his girlfriend any chance he got, which lead to fans making several compilations about the times he was a simp over his girl.

The most popular video was a 10 minute and 33 seconds compilation, which had around 445k views.

It started with Tom's interview with Good Morning America to talk about Billy the Kid, the interviewer asking about how he prepared for the role.

"It was during the pandemic, like any actor during that time I was just hoping that the world came back to normal so I could start making a cent," everyone in the set laughed at this, "I was living with my girlfriend YN in a barn house and we were like chopping wood every morning and visiting my friend's ranch. So when I got the part I kinda felt like I was ready for it."

"Your girlfriend, you say," one of the interviewers said making Tom smile right away, "Did she help you prepare for the role too?

"Of course she did, she's my biggest supporter ever."

The video moved to show some behind the scenes of Songbirds and Snakes footage, Tom dressed in his peacekeeper costume and dancing around while Rachel recorded him.

"See this moves?" he got closer to the camera, "I used them to charm my girlfriend."

"And I doubt they worked." Rachel laughed behind the camera.

"She loves me so I'm pretty sure they did."

The next thing shown was Tom sitting next to Hunter as they did an interview for Rolling Stone, the crew just asked about their thoughts on Olivia Rodrigo's single for the movie.

"I love Olivia Rodrigo," Hunter cheerfully said, throwing her arms up to the air, "The new album is so good."

"I'm a big fan as well," Tom joined in, "My girlfriend YN, she's obsessed with her, plays her songs all the time."

"Just so everyone knows, YN is like the coolest person ever," Hunter said, making Tom smile, "She brought us snacks on set so many times, such an angel."

"She's the best."

The following footage was Tom and Rachel's rapid-fire questions with Vogue.

"Can you guess where this is from?" Rachel asked holding up a card that showed a zoomed in picture of a suit.

"That's my Prada suit from the London premiere," Tom asked confidently, Rachel confirming that he was correct, "My girlfriend YN loved that suit, that's why It's one of my favorites."

"Oh I miss YN."

"So do I, so do I."

Next clip was Tom's interview Stephen Colbert, who just asked him if he was a fan of the books growing up.

"I was such a huge fan, I grew up watching the films. My mom and sister used to go to opening weekends to see the movies," the audience cheered at that, "Actually, for my third date with my girlfriend I took her to see the last movie, so getting to play a young president Snow is a real honor."

The video quickly moved to show the lat clip, one of Tom's interviews at the London premiere of the movie.

"Are you here on your own? No date?" The interviewer said once Tom finished answering the previous question.

"I'm here with my girlfriend, actually," his face beamed as he spoke, "She's probably somewhere taking selfies with Hunter, those two are like best friends."

"Is she close to your cast mates?" the interviewer asked again.

"Definitely, they try to steal her from me and I can't blame them, she's the best."

[ramonathinks]

RAISE THE STAKES.

being a therapist was hard enough without the leader of an infamous group becoming your patient or to answer your questions, sylus has a few requests.

(18+, no minors! no blank accounts!) inappropriate relationships, patient!slyus, therapist!reader, munch slyus, oral and female masturbation, slight pussy inspection, dirty talk. exhibitionism, dry humping, word count: 3k... short and sweet

tagging: @xmiisuki @sunasbon @sugugasm <3

There was something clinical and plain about your office — though technically you were a type of doctor — the decor screamed hospital more than a comfortable place to tell your deepest darkest secrets. Faint pale blue walls with littered old stickers from the previous child therapist and even the stench of crayons … not to mention the floor tiles, squared with an iced blue paint that made the room both childish and clinical. Something fitting for a child hospital or even a former child psych ward.

That was the reason you decided for this particular appointment you’d switch rooms to somewhere more adult and that hopefully your boss would let you stay there. The pristine polished marble floors and white walls, two empty lush chairs and a small brown wooden table with magazines with two waters sitting on top. This was your dream room and one you felt you deserved. You were the most decorated person on your floor — top of your class in your undergrad and graduate class, internships at major places, yet you settled for here. Settled. It was smack dabbed in the middle of a city that needed you most. A dangerous city… but somewhere you felt like you could actually make a difference. 

Sitting in the chair towards the window you awaited for Sylus Qin – a name that sent more than enough shivers up your spine but who’s name spiked your curiosity, especially seeing it written for a first appointment directly with you. 

He walked in, his presence loud and alarming from the moment he stepped into the door, looking at you before he sat down in the seat closest to the door. You inhaled, the deep smell of metallic and what you must’ve guessed was gunpowder filled your nostrils. “You’re late,” You told him with a small smile. “And for your first appointment nevertheless.” Your tone is light and playful, you only hoped that he understood that. 

He arches a white brow and slouches back on the couch, it was obviously too small for his broad body and long legs but he still stretched them so they were nearing yours. “A meeting held me up.” He waited for some form of reaction before he looked away from you, probably now disappointed when your face remained blank.

You cleared your throat, “I’m quite sure that you didn’t come here on your own volition, so why are you here? I know that you of all people couldn’t have been forced.” You crossed your legs, watching his eyes glance at them.

“Two nuisances…” He grumbles, his face scrunched into a deadly scowl but his crimson eyes remain gentle as he looks at you. “It seems that I’ve been even more aggressive as of late.” He shrugs his shoulders as if he disagrees with the diagnosis. 

“Well… what made them come to that conclusion?” You watched him open his mouth to answer before he paused, thinking something. It takes a while before he speaks again and when he does he shocks you.

“What do I get if I answer any of your silly little questions…?” There’s a huskiness to his voice, a rough edge as he speaks. His eyes are trained on you, following you as your body sways a bit. 

You quirk a brow, “You want a reward for being…compliant?” You straighten your posture, looking at him with slightly wide eyes, it was the first time someone asked for something so ridiculous. “You tell me what you want—” You start before he interrupts you.

“Your panties.” Curt. Simple. Straightforward. You blinked, staring at this man and questioning how you managed to get yourself in this position. 

 Was the money worth it? That was the question roaming around your head as you just stared at him. How could he ask you such a thing with a serious face expression. “My panties? That would tempt you to answer the questions truthfully?” The skirt you were wearing felt a thousand times shorter and the room felt too warm for you to ignore the wetness you felt between your —

Your eyes twitched. A conversation alone, brief… and your panties were drenched, sticky to your folds. It would do wonders for your career to have gotten the man himself… the big leader of a malicious group to be less violence. So you sigh, “You want them now—”

“As an act of good faith,” He says smoothly. “Let’s put all our cards out on the table…How about you at least take them off so I know you’re being truthful to me.” 

You sucked your teeth, debating with yourself on if you really should do this or not. Your career is on the line regardless of each decision. You could just deny him, tell him off and force him out of your office. But your body seemed to be screaming at you to just do it. You hadn’t had sex nor a true orgasm in more than a year… possibly two and yet with him sitting in front of you, you felt as if you were close.

Your mouth no longer produces saliva and your throat dry as you slide them down your legs; you held them and watched a smirk take over his face. You couldn’t believe yourself honestly, this wasn’t something you’d ever expect yourself to do. While you weren’t exactly a good girl, you had standards… you couldn’t believe you were being so trashy. Yet the excitement in your body spilled out of your center and with his eyes glued there while you removed your underwear, your body shook.

“Already the air smells so better in here.” He chuckles and you feel embarrassment cloud your mind. “To answer your question from before… Apparently they believe I’m in a foul mood since I’ve been less tolerant on certain things that in the past, I was more passive on. They’ve expressed to me that with the rough ways I’ve been handling business has grown rather…impulsive.”

“Do you agree with that?” You recross your legs. “I’ve always heard that you were impulsive and honestly, I never heard anyone say you were passive… Do you think you’ve ever been passive? Do you think you can paint me a picture of yourself?”

He reaches out his hand and for a moment you’re confused before you realize he’s asking for his reward. Handing him the panties, you see him sniff them and it makes your insides quiver. This man… he was too much for you. 

“I see myself as…” He thinks, his eyebrows furrowed, he taps his foot on the ground. “I often find myself bored and find myself indulging in self destructive behavior... taking on more than I can and getting myself injured.” He scoffs. “I guess this particular time they're talking about is when I knew I was being set up but still decided to go alone without informing them - Luke and Kieran, I mean.”

“So they care about you?” You ask, mentally taking notes of every word and ever ounce of movement and even taking account of his voice and tone.

“Sure.” His voice has a slight tremble to it. “We’ve been together for longer than I can remember being without them…” Then he’s closed off again, acting as if he revealed too much to you. His crimson eyes trace up your legs again, he bites his lips.

You recrossed your legs. “Anyway…” You cough. “Is there a thrill in putting yourself in these situations? Or is there a need to demonstrate that your reputation is correct… to stop or limit people from defying you?” You are met with silence and a sinister glint in Sylus’ eyes. “Sylus? Do you need me to repeat the question?”

“I answered some for your panties. For this next question, you’ll have to do something else for me to answer it… unless you want a lie…or more silence.” His roaming eyes told you all that you needed to know, this request would be more.

A scowl on your face, “My panties weren’t enough?” You’re close to rolling your eyes at him, you want to hate him but it’s something in those eyes that keeps you from it. After this you knew that you’d decline any other visits from him, you might as well entertain him— no, you want to slap yourself for even thinking that thought. 

“I wanna see you cum, pet that pretty pussy and put a show on for me.” He says and you gasp, full blown as you stare at him. “C’mon kitten, don’t be so coy.” His eyes darkened but still his tone remained playful; slick gathered at your thighs and it’s almost as if he scented it with how quick his eyes snapped to your skirt.

“Sylus, the panties were already inappropriate enough. I can lose my license—” You stammer, your voice small and timid as you speak. This man… would be the death of you.

“I won’t let that happen.” 

You swallow, staring hard in his eyes. Looking in his eyes made you want to bend to his every whim and to continue. Your thighs spread a bit because honestly, you wanted this. “Fine.” You relinquished every ounce of self respect you had for yourself and spread your legs completely apart. A slap of cool air brushes against your bare skin, your shutter but spread your folds. You rub at your clit, staring in those addicting eyes. 

He drinks in the sight of you — dripping and oozing out spilling to the chair, he straightens himself, his eyes now locked between your thighs. Your clit is hard and throbbing knowing that his eyes are on your most delicate parts. You circle your entrance, collecting the slick that sits there before you dip it inside – teasing both you and him. You feel the warmth of yourself as you stroke your finger in and out of your walls, sloppy noises echoing around the room. Your thighs tremble and breathing heavy, he briefly glances at your face and back to the dripping sight below.  Your face scrunched up in a sense of pure ecstasy, you pop your finger out of your cunt and you put a finger in your mouth before rubbing your clit again, your thighs bucking and your hips humping upwards. 

His feet tap against the floor watching another finger join the one already knuckle deep inside of you, his fingers twitch looking at how wet and creamy your fingers are pumping in and out. “There’s a thrill… and excitement that comes with doing dangerous things…” His voice trails off, your mouth agape spilling little moans. “It feels good… it’s never a sense of pride, it’s more of a –” Using your other hand, you rub fast at your clit at the same time your fingers thrust inside deeper, hitting another spot that makes a bit of cream drip under you. “It’s more of a simple pleasure, just something to take the edge off of life. It’s a high… c’mon kitten, you’re killing me there. Need to see your face when you cum.” 

Your stomach sucks in at the words and you whine, leaking with a deep orgasm and deep breathing. “Ohhhhh!” Cream continues to spill out, you milk yourself more – curling your fingers before you pull them out with a drawn out moan. “Oh, mmm…” You feel so tired, your eyes dropping and a fuzzy brain when you turn your attention back on him. 

“What’s your next request for answering this last question?” You huff, your face flushed and your body trembling. You still tried to cover yourself but he just laughed, full and heartily. 

“I want you to sit on my face.” He’s hard, tapping his foot against the floor again still looking at your creamy pussy. “That’s all.”

“What?” But it shouldn’t surprise you anymore, no matter how much you fought on his demands… you knew you’d give in and you knew how badly you wanted him.

“I want you to sit on my face.” He said again, nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders. 

“But… why? Are you trying to make me lose my job? Or are you just insane and don’t care about my livelihood or my dignity?” But really, it didn’t matter, with all you did now… your license was already revoked. 

“Would you rather be a good girl and sit on my lap? Grind yourself on my cock?” It was an enticing offer and you had to mentally stop yourself from taking it up. “Just keep being an obedient little girl like you have been and come sit on my face.” He’s pulling himself from the chair to lie on the floor with a bright smile on his lips. He waited, both of you already knew that you were going to come. 

“First... put your fingers in my mouth.” It makes you jump when he says that but you swallow your nerves and pride, reaching over and letting his tongue work its way through your fingers, his tongue slimy wet and sticky all at once. He groans out at the taste. “Sit.” He says simply. You’d never did this before, your legs trembled just standing above his head and even more when you bent down. 

You hovered over him, a string of your slick dripping over his face before he moved his head to capture it between his tongue with a groan; swirling his tongue in a circular motion as he took in the taste. “So wet…tastes so good.” His voice deep and inviting; sticking his tongue inside then flicks his tongue against your clit and wraps his mouth around it — sucking it before he releases it with a plop sound.  “Sit.” He told you, rubbing his hands across your ass, spreading it so that your pussy would wink at him with a small gushy sound. He firmly sits completely on his face so that his face is covered with you. 

His tongue feels like a thousand tongues when you drip over his face, grinding your hips and circling them. Your knees digging into the floor when you slide forward and back against him.“Sy–lus!” The pad of his tongue licks up your slit, moving to your folds and up to suckle on your throbbing clit. You tug his hair and he buries his face impossibly more into your pussy. Grinding and shaking his face into you before gripping your hips to make you really grind against his mouth.

You squeal with every moment as he uses his tongue to curl deep inside of you – your legs shaking and he slurps. Your toes curl inside of your stuffy shoes and though you can’t see his face because of the skirt you wear, you can feel the devilish smirk against your flesh.

He pulls you up, holds you. A string of his salvia and your slick and cream mixed together on his lips. “Never did ask that question, sweetie.”

“Oh, fuck you Sylus.” He’s sitting you back down, your thighs squeezing his head. His mouth latched to your clit and doing deep sucks with his fingers pressed deep in your thighs. Opening his mouth wider to truly capture all of what he can of your cunt — there’s a deep hunger in every lick he gives, his tongue dragging down from your clit to your slit and back up again. He laps at your folds with nothing else but groans and soft moans that leave both of your mouths.

His tongue swirls on your clit before small soft kisses that make you flinch. Cream and slick trickling down your thighs, your hips continue to hump him — it was as if his face belonged there, his tongue glued to your core and eating up everything you had to offer. Lifting you again, he says, “Want to feel that pretty pussy soaking me… you’d like that won’t you?” He grins, showing all his teeth. You’re quick to nod your head, tears in your eyes… this man was turning you into his plaything and you could care less… there was a thrill to this.

He doesn’t take off his pants much to your disappointment but he helps you to sit on his lap, his lust filled scarlet eyes filled with nothing but desire as he rolls his hips against yours. A small gasp leaves your mouth, your bare cunt soaking his pants and his cock deliciously digging into your core. You wrap your arms around his neck and squeeze your eyes shut, letting him thrust up against your throbbing center. 

Throwing your head back – you rock your hips back and forth against his clothed cock – feeling him press himself harder into you, rubbing himself against your core with deep throaty groans of pleasure leaving his mouth. You try to match his movements, hips bouncing up and down against him with needy whines leaving your lips. You both hiss when his cockhead brushes up against your clit – he rubs himself back and forth repeatedly, slowly while you move faster – chasing that high and in that moment you knew of the pleasure and the high that Sylus mentioned earlier because your body was reveling in it. 

Your stomach swoops at the sticky sounds that come from your pussy and the soft noises he makes. Even with soundproof office spaces, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone heard you both. Lazy grinding becomes thrusting again before downright dirty gyrating of both of you against each other – so close, you were almost there yet again. Pathetic sinful whimpers falling out of your mouth, he presses openmouthed kisses up and down your neck, nibbling on your clavicle. Your back arches, tears falling from your eyes, your pussy sliding against him and his hips stuttering. But he stops, standing you both up. 

“W–why’d you stop?” You’re gasping for air on trembling legs, he holds you close. Small sniffles leaving your mouth, desperate to feel him.

“I believe our time is up, sweetie. Maybe another visit will help unpack more.” He chuckles, walking towards the door. “I’ll return these on my next visit.”

[logansdoll]

I have so many ideas but I'm not a talented writer so here's one

-your logans wife pre striker you get taken by striker after logan gets shot as a way to kinda get back at him. Logan always had visions of a woman that he doesn't remember glimpses of domestic bliss. When striker attacks (in x2) striker name drops or says smth like "your wife has been waiting" as a way to antagonize logan.

Also, a cute detail to add if a fic takes place before he loses his memory would be the reader to call him james

I really love how your reader in has a plant mutation. Everything you write is just so good

I hope I wasn't to detailed feel free to take bits and pieces.

contingency

running through the base at Alkali Lake, Logan stumbles across a top secret room... only to find his whole entire world inside.

CW: suggestive, profanity, takes place during X2, has some elements from X-Men Origins: Wolverine, reader has been through some shit, Logan is so relieved, you don't really need to squint to see the angst, i'm iffy on how this turned out, etc.

'Think, dammit! What the hell was he talking about?'

With a roar of frustration, Logan unsheathed his claws, sprinting around the bend and slicing right through the stomach of a nearby soldier, waiting until the man fell with a disgusting plop before continuing on his way.

Why couldn't he just remember?

He knew that, for whatever reason, his memories had been tampered with, and that he couldn't recall anything about his life before the claws.

But ever since his run-in with Stryker back at the mansion, he couldn't help but feel like he was forgetting something especially important.

Something crucial.

"Wolverine..." Stryker grinned, eyes widening stepping forward out of the shadows. "I must admit, you are the last person I'd expect to find here."

Logan's claws revealed themselves with their signature shink, his brows furrowing as he warily stalked closer.

"How long has it been? Fifteen years?"

Stryker let out a small chuckle, but Logan was having a hard time finding what was so funny.

In fact, he was having a hard time with everything about this man—confused as to why he seemed so familiar.

"(y/n) says hello," Stryker goaded, adjusting his glasses. "Or, at least... I believe she would... If I'm being honest, she's feeling a little under the weather at the moment."

A sadistic smirk settled on his lips, his eyes glinting with sick satisfaction.

"But then again... there's seldom a time where she isn't feeling under the weather these days..."

"DAMMIT!" Logan barked, slamming his fist into a wall.

Not knowing was tearing him apart.

Who was (y/n)?

What were you to him?

And how the hell did he end up on the complete opposite side of the compound?

All questions that he furiously wanted to be answered.

Though, somehow—through his fit of blind frustration—he managed to stumble across a door, which had printed in big, bold, yellow letters:

CAUTION: KEEP OUT. HYDROSTASIS IN PROCESS.

"Hydrostasis?" Logan cocked a brow.

He didn't know why, but whatever was housed inside seemed to be pulling him in, silently urging him to open the door and investigate.

'Fuck it.'

Using one claw, he stabbed the retina scanner, the thick lock clicking with a satisfying beep.

He pushed past the door with ease, entering a seemingly large, dark, and oddly cold room, a lamp on one of the workbenches the only thing illuminating the space.

Cautiously, he approached it, sniffing and snapping his head around to make sure he was alone.

Yet he knew he wasn't.

He'd caught whiff of a faint scent emanating from somewhere further into the room, but it was so familiar, it seemed almost instinct to pay it no mind.

For some reason, he knew it wasn't hostile—and if anything, it calmed him, soothing his spiked nerves.

Reaching the table, he found that right next to the lamp laid a file labeled EXPERIMENT 25-8: CLASSIFIED.

He snatched it up with lightening speed, quickly skimming over the latest entry.

EXPERIMENT 25-8 a.k.a Weapon X Contingency

Name: (y/n) (l/n) Age: Unknown Sex: Female Height: X" X Weight: X Rank: Class 5 Report: 25-8 reviles authority. But her connection to Weapon X and general strength makes her a perfect candidate for Project Contingency. Her mutation and overall will to live have rejected all known forms of mind control. Will be kept in hydrostasis until new methods found. Conclusion: Further research required. Could possibly be the only creature known to man that can stop the Wolverine besides the Wolverine himself.

"(y/n)..." Logan tested out the name, confused as to why it sounded so natural.

So home-like.

Looking away from the pages, he glanced down at the table, catching sight of a large switch not too far away.

Without hesitation, he flicked it, the lights in the room suddenly cutting on, along with the lights to your chamber.

And there you were right before him—unconscious and floating in vibrant blue water.

Looking upon you, it felt like he was suddenly hit by a freight train, years of love, care, and warmth flooding his mind.

"James!" you squealed, unable to dim your smile as he hoisted you over his shoulder. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he smirked, carrying you toward your shared bedroom. "You know what you did..."

"No..."

"C'mere. I need a taste tester," you smiled, cupping your hand under your fork as you held up a chunk of steak.

He grinned, placing down his newspaper and taking a bite, groaning at the good taste as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

"Well?" you asked, nervous.

"Baby..." he paused for dramatic effect, wanting to see you squirm. "This is the best damn steak I've ever eaten."

"You ass!" you scoffed, playfully slapping him in the shoulder as he laughed, rocking you back and forth.

"I can't..."

"I love you, y'know that?" he asked, holding you close as you both relaxed in the bathtub. "I feel like I don't tell ya enough."

"You tell me every day, baby," you smiled, looking up at him as you rested your back against his chest.

"Well, then," he smirked, his hand rising from the water, holding a beautiful diamond engagement ring. "You alright with me tellin' ya a little bit more?"

Your eyes went as wide as saucers, and you gasped so loud the neighbors (which were three miles away) would certainly hear.

"YES!" you squealed, scrambling to turn around and give him a kiss, the water sloshing around violently.

"Careful, hon! You're gonna knock me out the tub!" he chuckled, steadying you as your lips began peppering kisses all over his face.

"She can't..."

"James," you started, timidly, tracing mindless shapes in his chest as you both laid in bed. "That man you told me about... Stryker... he came by the house today."

Logan tensed at the name, his grip around you tightening.

"He didn't do anything, did he?" he asked, tone rising.

"No," you shook your head. "But he asked for you. Said it was important that you come and talk to him."

He sighed, taking your hand in his, smoothing his thumb over your knuckles.

"I'll go over tomorrow. Straighten everything out," he assured.

"I don't think you should," you quickly denied, nervous. "This man... I don't trust him... He gives me a bad feeling, y'know?"

He cracked a small smile, placing a tender kiss on your forehead.

"I promise you, he can't do nothin' to me that hasn't already been done."

"RAAAAH!" Logan roared, blindly slashing at the table and all nearby equipment.

How could he have ever forgotten you?

Fury consumed his being in every sense of the word, the anger swelling inside him in a way he had never felt before.

Sparks flew as Logan destroyed any and everything in his path, teetering on the edge between rage and regret.

He could remember so clearly now.

You were his world—his reason for drawing breath, his reason for existing.

No matter how bad things got—angry, frustrating, or lonely—you were there.

You were his escape, his safety, his peace.

Comparing his life from before to the current, he couldn't fathom how he'd survived so long without being in your presence.

Through his slicing, he managed to cut something important, a loud warning siren blaring before all the water began draining from your pod, rapidly pouring onto the floor.

With a loud hiss, the door opened, sending you falling out the chamber.

Logan rushed over faster than he'd ever done anything, catching you in his arms and cradling you bridal style.

He looked upon you as if you were a ghost, a figment of his imagination.

After years and years of separation, he was finally allowed a chance to see your face, now able to recall all its fine details with perfect accuracy.

The softness of your cheeks.

The kindness of your eyes.

The plumpness of your lips.

Suddenly, you let out a loud cough, spitting up some water as your eyes snapped open, frantically looking around.

Logan couldn't find the words.

The love of his life was sitting in his arms and after fifteen years... and he had no idea what to say to her.

"James?" you asked, weakly, disbelieving of the sight before you.

That's right!

James!

His name was James!

"Yeah, baby..." he nodded, bitter-sweetly, getting a bit choked up. "It's me—"

You threw your arms around his neck without a second thought, pulling him into a bone crushing hug as tears began pouring down your cheeks, your shoulders shaking with cries of relief.

"I thought you weren't coming!" you sobbed.

Your throat felt swollen as you stuttered, scrambling to say all the things you've been wanting to for so long.

"Oh, God, I love you, Jimmy! I love you so much! Please don't leave me again!"

"I'm so sorry, baby! I'm so, so sorry!" he sputtered, his hand finding home in your hair as he rocked you back and forth, stray tears escaping his eyes. "I shoulda been here! I shoulda protected you!"

He buried his face in your hair, peppering the side of your head with kisses.

"I love you so much, honey... I'm right here. I'm not goin' anywhere."

Suddenly, you went limp in his arms, panic and fear spiking up his spine.

"(n/n)?!" he pulled back, frantically scanning over you to see what was wrong."(y/n)?!"

Quickly, he pressed his ear against your chest, thanking whatever god in heaven that your heart was beating.

'It might be a side effect of the chamber... or maybe she's tired...'

Without warning, the entire compound began to shake, a familiar blue devil popping up next to him out of nowhere.

"Zere you are!" Kurt exclaimed, quickly grabbing onto his friend. "Vee must go! Zee place is goink to flood!"

In an instant, the three were back with the others, the mysterious woman in Logan's arms posing a question to everyone.

"Logan?" Ororo raised a brow, confused, as they began running toward the exit.

"Who the hell is that?" Scott asked, much blunter than Storm intended.

Logan looked down at your peacefully sleeping face, brushing a stray strand of hair out your face.

"She's my wife..."

bonus !!

"SHE'S YOUR WHAT?"

[alonetimelover]

pairing: (ex)Harry Styles x Ginger Spice's daughter!reader x Max Verstappen

fc: Sabrina Carpenter

summary: They broke up and she decided to disappear and write a heartbreaking song. Through this process her old friends from F1 were with her. With one two-time World Champion getting closer and closer.

warnings: swearing, cheating, Harry is an asshole in this (sorry!)

a/n: Long? Oh yes. It's a long one. But also my first F1 related fic, hope you enjoy!

masterlist

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f1 and redbullracing

liked by yourinstagram, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 349 392 others

f1 Is there a better way to start 2023 season than with YN YSN (sweetly called the tiny boss of Red Bull Racing) in the paddock? We say there is NOT! Welcome YN, we hope you have the best time with us!

view all 19 323 comments

yourinstagram thank uuuuu!

danielricciardo THE boss is here!

landonorris *heart eyes*

charles_leclerc Welcome back, YN!

ynupdates oh how i missed her face

ynsmybestie 5 months without even a photo of her finger online... it was a draught

ynsmymama yn's a vroom vroom girlie?????

ynsmybabie F1? is she a fan? tiny boss? what is going on?

⤷ ynupdates I feel like I'm the only one that knew. YN is Christian Horner's (red bull racing boss) step-daughter.

⤷ ynsmybestie isn't his wife ginger spice?

⤷ ynupdates yes! she's YN's mum. how do you guys not know that?

⤷ ynshands maybe because she's using her grandma's surname and not her mother's?

formulafan49 so we're getting las vegas content in bahrain? this sport is getting out of control with all those celebrities attending

⤷ landonorizz why are you being bothered by somebody that knows almost everything about formula 1? go be mad somewhere else

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yourinstagram

liked by danielricciardo, landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 2 201 302 others

yourinstagram hiii💛 took a break and wrote a song. you're losing me is out now! i love all of you my pathological people pleasers.

view all 91 393 comments

danielricciardo be a happy song with me?

⤷ yourinstagram running to you right now

⤷ landonorris bringing mum's biscuits

⤷ maxverstappen1 I'll bring myself 😊

⤷ danielricciardo you lot weren't invited, but come in... I guess

landonorris you're the only person I'm not mad at for making me cry, ynn

⤷ yourinstagram you've heard the song before, lan

⤷ landonorris shhhh

⤷ danielricciardo it won't make her fall in love with you, norris

⤷ landonorris fuck you man

maxverstappen1 💛💛

ynupdates WHAT IN THE HELL HAPPENED HERE

ynsmybestie I won't recover. I fucking won't recover

ynsmymama I'm gonna die... its so sad. its heartbreaking. I'm losing myself

hArrysbtch woah, my heart cannot take this

harrysmoustache firstly, break my heart and take it, yn

harrysmoustache secondly, why is the whole f1 here? wtf

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harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch, harrysmoustache and 45 202 others

harryupdates In his latest interview Harry was asked about his private life - especially his relationship with YN. After the question of "do you feel like you throw a great love away?" Harry answered with "I don't know. I don't regret a lot of things in my life but that's [the relationship] probably one of them." You can read the interview via the link in our story!

view all 4 201 comments

hArrysbtch suddenly a six year lasting relationship was a mistake???

hArrysbtch ehh, harry. i kinda feel that the breakup (from Harry's side) happened a long time ago. there is no sparkle anymore

hArrysbtch now let me start on not mentioning her name like EVER "my last partner" her name is YN, why he can't just say it? it's been going on for years. since they started dating really...

harrysmoustache that wasn't the best interview

ynsmymama about 'you're losing me': "every artist has their imagination that they write down and then release. sometimes it's good and sometimes it should be kept private. i'm not the one to size it up." THAT WAS FUCKING LOW

⤷ harrysmoustache as much as I love him that was petty af

⤷ hArrysbtch especially when almost all critics named this song one of the best LYRICALLY and MUSICALLY in the last few decades

ynshands "I don't know if you can be ready to move on from a longterm relationship. it's definitely harder than from something that lasts months or two years." THIS MOTHERF****R IS TALKING ABOUT NOT BEING THE ONE TO MOVE ON BUT HE DID WHILE STILL BEING IN A RELATIONSHIP??????

⤷ ynsmymama this is called audacity

⤷ harrysfan49 cheating was never confirmed, was it?

⤷ ynsmybestie yes, it was. right after harry's "announcement" yn posted a story with lyrics from 'illicit affairs'. i think that's enough of a confirmation.

ynsmybestie yeah, here he comes again not being able to fucking say her name. those 6 years meant nothing?

⤷ harrysfan92 maybe he doesn't want to share his private relationship online

⤷ ynsmybestie i don't understand that. you're loving a person for six years, claiming them the love of your life, but saying the name is hard? he never mentioned her in interviews (my closest friend, my partner, someone I love). he couldn even show up at her birthday party because he had a photoshoot. just to point out, the drivers showed up in London, even though they had a race in Imola the next day.

⤷ harrysfan87 you guys are toxic. just gonna blame him for the breakup? unbelievable.

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ynupdates

liked by ynsmybestie, landofan92 and 88 203 others

ynupdates YN AND LANDO AT THE NIGHTCLUB IN MONACO!!!!!

view all 6 001 comments

ynsmybestie NO FUCKING WAY

ynsmybestie SHE LOOKS SO HOT

ynsmymama the way he looks at her ??? 🫠

ynsfan92 find somebody who looks at you just like lando looks at yn. YOU CAN'T

⤷ ynsmymuse have you seen how max looks at her?

landofan92 do I need to change my bio from norizz to yesrizz?

user39 yeah, moving on quickly when her exboyfriend is talking about how he adores her

⤷ ynsmybestie where??? because i only saw how awful he was to YN from the moment they broke up

user02 yeah, move on quickly and go trough all the drivers

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yourinstagram added to her IG story!

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lando.jpg

liked by yourinstagram, maxverstappen1 and 1 004 392 others

lando.jpg yn showed her favourites

view all 203 494 comments

danielricciardo LIAAAAAR. SHE LOVES ME MORE.

⤷ yourinstagram of course

⤷ lando.jpg i love your sarcasm

maxverstappen1 💛

yourinstagram not my fault you were the only ones available for photos

⤷ maxverstappen1 I don't mind

⤷ lando.jpg neither do I

⤷ danielricciardo I DO

⤷ charles_leclerc I DO TOO

ynsmybestie hot

ynsmybestie but also i see you YN with favouring Max and Lando, i see you girl

ynsmymama why I've never realised how hot those two are???

ynshands is there a thing she does badly?

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ynupdates

liked by ynsmybestie, maxandyn and 68 574 others

ynupdates YN and MAX VERSTAPPEN at the bar tonight in Zandvoort, celebrating Max's win!

view all 4 206 comments

ynsmybestie SEE? you defend the girl, you get the girl!

ynsmymama i mean i was rooting for them but i am still speechless

ynshands YAS PARENTS

maxfan85 after the race that he had, tying to yet another record and getting a girl? is there a thing he can't do or can't have??

ynsfan93 sooo, do we say they're together orrr?

⤷ ynsmybestie i mean, look at them. i have many friends but i'm not that cozy with any of them

⤷ ynsmymama i vote early stages of dating. yn's a touchy person in nature so you know, it can be that

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yourinstagram added to her IG story!

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a/n: do you want to see more of them?

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part 2

[jarofstyles]

Pressing Questions

We love new husbandrrry >:)

I hope you enjoy them and let me know your thoughts!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 190+ exclusive writings

WC- 4.4k

Warnings- exhibitionism, slight breeding kink, completely cute n flirty babies, husband x wife kink???

---

“Hey, husband?” 

“Yes, Wife?” It sounded so good coming from their lips. It made her borderline giddy as she looked over at him to find him already looking over at her. The flush she felt in her cheeks bled down to her chest. They were finally fucking married. 

“What made you decide you were marrying me?” Y/N asked as she lounged next to him. Their honeymoon in full swing, Harry had rented out a cabana with a daybed so he could cuddle up to her on the beach and Y/N was positive now that it was definitely one of many things he had up his sleeve. The aesthetic had been perfect to her Pinterest board, but she had a feeling Harry knew that.

Roses in the room, champagne upon arrival, brand new swimwear just for her… she had been absolutely spoiled since they landed. Just like he promised. 

The warm air flowed over their forms, her head resting on her bent arm as the other held the fruity cocktail she had drunk an embarrassing amount of in the last three days. Some kind of coconut and lime thing that had her feeling more giggly than she could remember being in most of her adult life, but she was safe here. Safe with Harry, just like she had been dreaming of. 

 Harry chuckled and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest. He traced a lazy circular pattern on her bare hip with his fingertips as he spoke, his voice low and deep. Slightly hushed, keeping it intimate. Just the way she liked it. It was like he was fine tuned to appear to each and every thing she found attractive- or somehow managed to make everything he did appeal to her. Either way, she felt her tummy flutter. 

"Darling, is this a trick question? Do you really think I only have one reason to marry you?”  Her husband acted like it was a ridiculous question but pressed a kiss to her forehead, giving her an answer regardless.  "You’re beyond beautiful, the funniest person I’ve ever met, smart as a tack... and you put up with all my ridiculous bullshit. All of those cliche reasons and more. Not t’mention you dealing with my insane schedule and giving me your honest opinions whenever I ask, even if they’re a little sassy.” Giving her a look, he got the laugh he wanted out of her before tilting his head in question. “Why wouldn’t I marry you?”

“I dunno, I just feel like…. I mean, I know I’m a catch.” She smirked, giving him a wink that she immediately regretted. At least she could be cringey with him and he would find it endearing. Her winks were not nearly as cute as his were.  “But was there a singular moment that you knew you were going to keep me?” His touch always did make her melt. 

Harry, ever the touchy and slightly clingy boyfriend- nay, husband-, couldn’t keep his hands off of her before they got married but… compared to this trip? Y/N was genuinely unsure there was a single moment without him with his touch somewhere on her body. It had been a little shocking at first but every single moment made her feel more addicted to the fingertips pressing into her, arms pulling her into his body or the lips ghosting her skin. The real problem would be when they got home and she couldn’t just have this on tap. 

Harry let out a deep breath, shifting to roll onto his side and propping his head up with his hand as he took in her beauty. The sun was giving her skin a warm, golden glimmer, and it took all his willpower not to pounce on her at that very moment and take her right there in the cabana.

"You want one singular moment, huh?" He hummed, pretending to think about it as his fingertips continued their slow path tracing her body. "There was this one time..."

Her breathing caught in her throat as his fingers took a lazy trail over her body. Harry had this way about him that had made her a little nervous with how attentive his gaze was, but even so… she loved that feeling. Like he was always clinging onto her last word. Even as her husband, he seemed to use this power to his advantage. 

“Mmm?” She asked, tossing back the final bit of her drink before fiddling with the cute little paper umbrella. “What time?”

His lips curled up into a small, smug smirk as he watched her react to his touch. He loved the power he had over her, the way his fingers seemed to make her breathless and her eyes got a little hazy. The way her body subconsciously arched into his touch.

Harry moved his hand from her hip, slowly tracing it up her side and over her ribcage, his touch so light that it almost tickled.  "It was very early on," he said, his voice low and husky. "We were at my place, just hanging out. You were wearing this… little fucking tank top." The way he said it made her know that he was thinking about that tank top to this day. Flattering, even if she couldn’t place the moment he was talking about.

She had to wrack her brain for a moment, trying to remember which day it was that he was referring to. The beginning days had been slightly hazy considering their romance had gone from tentative flirtation to a whirlwind as soon as the sexual dam had broken. 

“Which tank top?” 

Harry's smile grew wider as he saw her trying to remember. It was something he could never forget. "It was that little pink one, with the sexy little bit of lace at the neckline. Lacy straps, too," he said, his voice taking on a slightly dreamy tone as the memory played in his head. "It was so teeny tiny that I could see your bra through it..." Moving closer to her, his hand moved lower on her body, tracing over the soft, sensitive skin of her stomach. He knew exactly how he was affecting her. It was considered a bit of payback for said tank top.

"And those shorts you had on... so short that I could see your hips and legs… and the bottom of your bum when you moved the right way? Mm, I think you’ve always been so cruel with teasing me, baby.” The man obviously loved it though. There was no hiding that from her. 

Despite it being a private beach, Y/N felt the flutter of both fear and anticipation as he flirted with her so blatantly. Recalling a time she could definitely remember now, a movie night at his place where she had worn a matching pajama set that wasn’t outright sexy but… definitely was known to show off her body.

“Ohhhh. That one.” She grinned. “Seeing me in that made you know you were gonna marry me? Perv.”

“Hey now, I just appreciate beauty when I see it.” Harry countered with a laugh, acting slightly affronted as if his hand wasn’t now resting just over the waistband of her bikini. “So sue me for thinking y’looked incredible.”

 Moving even closer to her, his body pressed against hers as his lips brushed against her ear. His voice was sultry as he spoke, a little kiss pressed right underneath it.  “And I distinctly remember you wearing that little outfit just to drive me absolutely wild, you little minx. You can’t even deny it now. I know how that pretty head of yours works.”

Y/N snickered at the call out, knowing he was very much correct. She had done it to test him, to see how much he was willing to put up with back in the day, what would make him tick. He may call it teasing, but she called it an experiment for scientific research. 

“You are such a flirt today.” She took a moment to put the glass down before facing him again, carding her fingers through his wavy hair. The sea air did something to it that made her even more attracted to him, something she hadn’t realized possible until she had seen it herself. “But keep the memories coming.” Aka the compliments. She felt loved up and was very much in the mood to hear more. “What else did you think?”

Harry's eyes darkened slightly as her fingers ran through his hair. He loved it when she touched him like that, it sent shivers down his spine, making him want to lean into her like an eager pup awaiting pets. 

"Other things that cemented it?" He murmured, his hand on her hip giving her a gentle squeeze.  “There’s loads. Mm… I’d have t’say, the way you'd get all flustered when I teased you. The way you'd get all sarcastic and bratty when I annoyed you. How you were so confident and fiery, but at the same time so shy and sweet..." he trailed off, knowing he could go on for hours and hours when it came to what he loved about her. It was hard to get him to shut up about it, actually. 

“So you like when I’m bratty. That’s what I’m hearing.” She giggled, teasing him slightly despite him scolding her for it prior. “I think my moment was when you set up that whole thing on Valentine’s Day. Cause god knows you’ve got all the money in the world but you knew I hate fancy restaurants so you did like… the whole blanket fort thing. With the charcuterie board and champagne.” The dreamy sigh left her lips. It had stuck with her every day since. He may not even realize how important it had been for her, but Harry was the first person she’d dated who had ever made her feel that special. 

“You listened to me when I said what I liked. You got my favorite movie lined up and made me sweet and salty popcorn like I like. You even remembered you popped the wrong one and told me to wait and… I dunno.” She shrugged with her shy smile lighting up her face. “I knew I’d never find anyone else like you.”

Harry's gaze softened as she spoke, warmth spreading through his chest as she described his absolute favorite Valentine's Day. He hadn't known at the time it had been such a pivotal moment for her, but now it made perfect sense. His wife was sentimental that way. Something personal meant way more than the clothes he had bought her, or the house he’d got for them. His thoughts were everything to her.

He gave her a tender look, shaking his head, fingers tracing a gentle path along her arm. It was impossible to keep his touch from her, and he didn’t feel like trying. "You mean when I accidentally burned the salted popcorn?" He winced at the memory. It was a weird thing he always thought about, but in his defense the smell had been pretty bad. Thankfully he had air freshener on hand, though apple cinnamon didn’t exactly mask burnt popcorn. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was so focused on making sure everything was just right for you that I didn't pay enough attention to the microwave. Plus, your pretty face was distracting enough. Could barely form a proper sentence.”

The warmth flooded her tummy at the compliment, making her want to kiss him even more. It was held off considering she knew it would most definitely be something that got carried away, but that didn’t stop the urges. “I’ll be honest, I probably would have eaten the burnt popcorn. The fact that you’d even managed to remember those little facts about me had me like… giddy. I hadn’t felt that way about a crush since I was a teenager.” The admission came easily.  There was no shame in how much she loved Harry, even if she did tease him to say he was the clingy one. 

 Another question popped into her head, and considering he seemed happy to talk now that he’d had his beachside nap, she took advantage of it. “Were you nervous to propose?”

Harry's hand moved back and rested on her hip, his fingers rubbing over the soft skin as he answered immediately. 

"Nervous? Oh, absolutely. Fucking terrified, my love. Even though I knew you'd say yes, I was still nervous as hell." He let out a sweet hum,  softly, leaning in closer to her, his lips almost touching her ear as he spoke.  "The most nerve-wracking part was the time between when I proposed and when you actually said yes. It felt like the longest minute of my life..."

“You knew I’d say yes. C’mon, H.” Y/N’s giddy grin made it past her lips. It was weirdly satisfying to know he had been nervous because it meant he had been worried about the prospect of not being with her forever. It had always been her plan to say yes, but still. 

Harry chuckled again, his chest rumbling beneath her head "Yes, darling, I did know that." His hand slid under her chin, gently lifting her head to meet his gaze. How much he loved her was visible in his eyes. She’d never experienced visibly seeing love before him. 

"But that didn't stop me from being nervous. I was just so… desperate for you to say yes, to be mine forever. The thought of even a moment of hesitation..."

He shuddered slightly and his grip on her tightened ever so slightly "It would've killed me."

“Oh, baby.” She cooed, deciding to baby him a little bit. Hearing that vulnerability really did something to her, tangling her fingers into the hair at his nape. “I’ve been yours since you first kissed me. Y’know that?” Y/N had been completely smitten. It was borderline concerning until she had realized he felt the same. “I had the biggest crush on you when we first met. You only continue to get better and better every day.” 

Tossing her leg over her hip, she relaxed into his hold as she gazed over his pretty face. He’d let his stubble grow out a bit, albeit a bit patchy- the look suited him. “You’ve been my husband in my head for a long time. I don’t think I could have ever said no.”

Harry's heart skipped a beat as she spoke. He had always loved it when she got like this, all soft and gentle and sweet on him. It was hard not to be greedy for this sort of affection. The feeling of her tangling her fingers in his hair combined with the press of her body against his had a shiver running down his spine.

"S’That so?" He purred, his voice making her squirm. "Because you’ve been mine since the moment I saw you, darling. You were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen in my life, and I knew I had to have you. You belong with me, you always have."

The slight possessive speak made her throat thicken, tummy warm, between her thighs throb a little bit. The tenderness in which he spoke had her melting and it had nothing to do with the beachy heat. This was exactly why she knew she had made the perfect choice with him.  Her body knew it was him before her head even did. Her heart? Even before that. “Yeah? I’m yours?” She cooed, brushing her nose against his.

Harry groaned softly as she brushed her nose against his, his eyes falling half-lidded. "Mmm, yeah. You are. You're mine. All mine."

His voice was a low rumble, his grip on her tightening as he spoke. "No one else will ever touch you, darling. You belong to me. I won't ever share you, no part of you is for anyone else but me."

Y/N let out a breathy gasp as his hand skipped over her ass, under the bikini bottom’s to hold bare skin. The flesh was squeezed, heat spreading between her legs as the little grab only managed to make it worse. She couldn’t control it even if she tried. 

“H! There are people around.” She squealed nervously, but didn’t move his hand. The people were far away, the beach not too crowded, but she had to say it. It wasn’t unlike him to grab a feel, but he had no intentions of moving his hand. The man had been insatiable since their wedding night with no sign of stopping. 

Harry gave her a sly simper as his hand squeezed her ass again, kneading lightly. He knew they were technically in public, and he didn't care in the slightest. It was more exciting this way, he loved the danger of being caught, the thrill of almost being seen… he was on his honeymoon with his wife. Nothing else mattered.

"I don't care, darling. They can't see us over here... Besides, we're on our honeymoon. We can do whatever we want." Licking his lower lip as he pulled her closer to him, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

"And right now, I want you."

“Baby…” Y/N’s voice went all syrupy and whimpery as his tongue ran over her jaw, teeth stopping to nibble at her skin. “You’re gonna get me wet. And I’m still a little sore from last night…” 

Her face flushed at the memory of him pounding into her, desperate proclamations of love being panted into the air as he fucked her over and over. That had been intense and her poor body hadn’t fully recovered, but it couldn’t help but react to him. She wasn’t saying no though because… she didn’t want to. A glutton for punishment, maybe, but she craved him. Body, mind and soul. 

Harry's breath hitched as she whimpered, the sound going straight to his already thickening cock. The thought of getting her all riled up here, of making her feel good while hidden away did little but work him up further. Y/N had a master key to his body and just the tiniest noise, movement of word could have him undone at any moment. 

“H…” she whined, feeling his hand slip between them. Finding her already wet, she could feel him groan into her neck as he pressed kisses over her throat. “H- fuck.” 

Her pants did nothing to deter him. The slick sound of his fingers rubbing through her slit before finding her swollen clit was the loudest thing she could hear, over the music in the distance and the crashing waves. “God.. you’re so bad.” And it felt so good.

Her husband’s lips curled up in a lazy grin as his fingers slid effortlessly through the wetness of her cunt. He could hear her gasping quietly with every touch, and he knew she was desperately trying to keep it together. It was his job to undo her. "You love it when I'm bad, darling." He taunted, nipping at her neck. With a voice low and needy he continued whispering in her ear.  "See.. I think you love it when I'm naughty. Think that you want me to touch you, to slip my fingers over your needy cunt and make you feel good. Y’want that, don’t you baby?” 

Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned her head back, letting his mouth mark up her throat. It felt too good to stop him, and her body was aching for it. This was what a honeymoon was for. Wasn’t it?  

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. There was no use protesting when this was what she wanted anyway. “Just be gentle, please.” 

Harry hummed in agreement, his fingers still gently teasing her as he continued to mark up her throat. 

"Don't worry, baby, I'll be gentle. I'll take care of you, just like I always do." His free hand came up to cup her cheek, guiding her face up to look him in the eyes. 

"Just relax, my sweet girl, and let me make you feel good."

Her shaky breathing was only made worse as he made her look him in the eye as he pleasured her. The slick movement of his fingertips where she was swollen from his constant licking and rubbing and sucking had her head swimming, sensitive from the use she had been experiencing- but god, did she love it. 

She knew he was feeling even more worked up now that she was his wife officially, and he was letting her feel that. “You always make me feel s-so good.”

Harry's groan caught in his throat as he watched her, her eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure. He fucking loved seeing her like this, all flushed and breathless because of him. His fingers toyed with her still, slow and gentle as he tried to make himself wait. "Good, because I love making you feel good… S’my favorite thing."

He pressed a few kisses to her cheek, his nose skimming over her skin as he moved to whisper into her ear. It sent shivers over her body, hard to keep herself from losing it as he touched her, practiced and knowing exactly where to taunt.

"You're so damn perfect, darling. My perfect, pretty little wife, letting me do filthy things to you. Love you so much."

Her hips rocked in time with his fingers, eyes closing for a moment as he kissed her neck again before whispering in her ear. When he gripped her chin again, he made her watch his face as he slowly sunk a finger into her. It wasn’t difficult given how soaking wet her poor pussy was, but she still felt the stretch. It was hard not to when they were that thick. 

A high pitched whine was cut off as she bit her lip, face contorting slightly as she felt him begin to move it. “It’s not f-fair, how easily you can… you can make me feel crazy.”

Harry hummed as he watched her face twist with pleasure, his finger still lazily pumping in and out of her. Feeling the walls clench around him and slick up his finger, he couldn’t get enough of her.  "Mmm, I know, darling. I know everything that drives you insane. I know all your sensitive spots, where you like to be touched, how you like it when I talk dirty to you..."

 Leaning in and biting down gently on her earlobe, his voice a deep murmur in her ear. "And I love that I'm the only one who knows those things."

“Mhm, the only one. You’re the only one.” She agreed vehemently. The pleasure was smooth and slow, building up as the slick sound of his finger being inside of her made it even more hot. “And you’re the only one who’s gonna put a baby in me too.” 

Y/N knew just how crazy that sort of talk made him, discovered it not too long ago, and she was aware she was playing with fire. She knew that, and yet she continued. 

Harry let out a deep, loud groan at her words, the sound almost feral. If anyone was nearby it would give them away, but he frankly didn’t give a fuck. He loved it when she talked like that, so shameless and filthy. Meeting him where he was at. It was no secret that he had been on a mission this trip, but Y/N knew what she did to him when she brought it up. His free hand dug into her cheek, gripping her tightly as his finger curved inside her, pressing into the slick, spongy walls. 

"Yeah? You want me t’get you pregnant, little darling?" His breath came out in huffed pants as his control started to slip a little. A button being pushed, almost all the way down. “Want me t’knock you up? Think we should try again… If you want that.” The memory of him pulling his cock out to watch the creamy mix slip out of her cunt before pushing back in to keep some plugged up into her the night prior came rushing back. 

That was exactly what he was craving. 

“Yeah, I want to… I want you to do it on this trip. Please? Wanna make you a daddy.” She keened, knowing they had little time at the beach left. He was going to lose control soon, and that had been her quickly executed plan.

Harry's control completely snapped at her words. He let out a low, guttural moan, his grip on her cheek firm as he laid a deep kiss on her mouth, licking into it and feeling her desperate kiss returned before he pulled back with a grunt and wet lips. She was ethereal, even in filthy situations like this. With beachy hair and bleary eyes, swollen mouth and the golden glow of the setting sun on her skin. Every day, every moment served as a reminder as to why he was so lucky to have her.

“God, you drive me fucking insane, darling. Y’know exactly what to say to get me all worked up, huh?" It was clear he couldn’t take it anymore. Y/N had hit her intended target, and he couldn’t be out here any longer because he would definitely get caught with a public indecency charge. Fingering was one thing, but the things he wanted to do to her? They needed privacy. 

He withdrew his finger, his voice a gruff whisper as he spoke into her ear. "Get up. Now.” 

A cry of loss left her swollen lips as he stood up, not caring at all about the bulge in his pants. He grabbed the beach bag, tossing it over his arm and surprised her as he tossed her over his shoulder too. 

“Harry!” She squealed. “H- oh my god. You caveman!” He walked towards the villa with her tossed over his shoulder, like she weighed nothing. Like the blatant show of strength wouldn’t make her even more aroused. 

Her husband chuckled at her protest, his hand coming down across her ass to give her a sharp smack. "Hush, wife. I said I'd take care of you, and that's exactly what I'm doing."