#in my mind the second i take one (1) shot of testosterone i will look exactly like him

[onionstree]

Squidward- TORTELLINI?!?!?!

buncha toni doodles on one page,,, WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE

[shadowsndaisies]

the hard deck: too observant to play dumb (pt 1)

wc: 1.7 k

synopsis: how the arrival at the hard deck went

main masterlist

athena-verse master post

a/n: hey yall! so fun fact it has been 8 years since I started this blog, and as a little thank you, I have a 3 part update to the athena-verse, the whole thing comprises the hard deck scene from the beginning of the movie and will end basically where athena settles debts starts. as always I hope you enjoy, and let me know if you want to be added to the tags!

You'd been standing with Jake and Javi when Nat finally walked in.

"Athena! I've been looking for you!" she shouts, pulling your attention away from the pool table you'd just set up with Javi.

"Oh shit, sorry 'Nix," you offer a half smile.

"Answer your god damn for when I call you," she groans, pointing menacingly at you.

"Yes, Ma'am," you mock salute before noticing the two men behind her. "Looks like you made new friends just fine though," you offer jokingly.

"Payback, Fanboy. Meet Athena, smoothest flier you'll ever see," Phoenix introduces, and you smile warmly at your friend before offering your hand to the two behind her.

"Nice to meet you fellas," you greet.

"High praise coming from Phoenix," Fanboy notes, shaking your head.

"Highest of the high, actually," Payback adds on.

"Yeah, well, there's almost no one I'd rather have on my wing than 'Nix," you compliment back. You were going to ask how they knew your friend, but someone else interrupted you before you could.

"Yo, are we playing or what?" you roll your eyes as you turn back to where Jake and Javi are standing and gesture to the three in front of you; you realize Jake is hunched over the table, lining up his next shot.

"I'm playing nice, Seresin. You should try it," you prod, and Javi manages a slight smirk at Jake.

Jake looks up and makes eye contact with you while landing a ball in a corner pocket, and you can't help but roll your eyes again, cocky bastard. When he straightens, he finally notices what has caught your attention. "Well, what do we have here? If it ain't Phoenix, and she found new friends," he smirks, walking around the table in your direction. "And here I thought we were special Coyote. Turns out the invite went out to anybody."

It's almost like a switch is flipped, you realize, watching as Jake now interacts with others. Cocky attitude inflating his ego in a way that was so Hangman but not necessarily Jake. Nat didn't believe you when you tried to explain that you saw past it, and that's why you were friends. She was confident in her reading, which fair, especially when he acted like this.

"Fellas this here is Bagman," she introduces, and you can already tell it's going to be a long detachment spent between your two friends, especially since they hate each other.

"Hangman," he corrects, tone slightly barbed.

"Whatever," Phoenix makes a face at him and rolls her eyes when she looks at you as if to say, C'mon Athena, don't you see what I'm talking about? "You're looking at the only naval aviator on active duty with a confirmed air-to-air kill," she adds on, turning back to Jake.

Your eyes narrow at the compliment-like a statement; however, you don't trust it for a second.

Hangman smiles, "Stop," he muses as he settles down beside you, bumping your shoulder with his as he does, full of pride like a peacock strutting his feathers.

"Mind you, the other guy was in a museum piece from the Korean War," she clarifies, and you nod; you felt this was where she was taking it.

"Cold War," Coyote corrects, always one to back up his friends.

"Different wars, same century," Payback interjects.

"Not this one," Fanboy tacks on.

"Who're your friends?" Coyote asks, eyes dancing over the two on either side of Phoenix.

"Payback."

"Fanboy."

Both aviators introduce themselves with a simple nod, and you can't hide your smile of amusement. The testosterone was off the charts, and Nat was leading the bunch.

"Hey Coyote," she greets, eyes darting to Javi, and you fight the smirk at the look in her eye.

"Hey," he greets, dragging out the 'ey' a bit, and your eyes dart over to Jake just to find a knowing look already focused on you.

"Who's he?" Nat asks, nodding to the side.

"Who's who?" Coyote's brows had furrowed down, and then Nat turned to look at the quiet Aviator in glasses who'd been munching on peanuts while you played pool.

"When did you get in?" Coyote's voice floats over from behind you as you take a moment to observe your silent comrade.

"Oh, oh I've been here the whole time," he admits, and your brow quirks, and quickly you turn to look over at Jake.

"Man's a stealth pilot," you muse gently, and even Nat cracks a smile.

"Literally," Coyote nods.

"Weapons systems officer, actually," he corrects, and your lips twitch; he's adorable, you decide immediately.

"With no sense of humor," Jake huffs out.

You elbow him, and he gasps before standing and handing off the pool cue to Nat.

"What do they call you?" you ask, voice sweet.

"Bob," he answers, offering a hesitant smile in response to your wide one.

"No, your call sign," Payback clarifies.

He seems to hesitate, "uh.." he trails for a second, and you can read the nervous energy easily. "Bob," he repeats, and you frown a bit at the cautious undertones of his voice.

"Bob Floyd?" Nat asks. "You're my new backseater? From Leemore?" her tone had turned a bit incredulous. The smothered chortles from Payback and Fanboy were not nearly as covert as they seemed to think it was, based on the glares Nat was sending them.

"Looks like it, yeah," Bob confirms, and that nervous undertone is still there.

Nat pauses and looks at you. You tilt your head knowingly, and she nods, turning to the back seater.

"Nine ball, Bob. Rack 'em."

"Uh.. kay, yeah," he nods, standing and taking the pool cue outstretched in Natasha's hand.

You pat your friend's shoulder knowingly before turning to look for Jake. You spot him at the bar and start walking that way. You pause, though, when you see him talking to Penny, and then you realize who was on the other side of her and, most likely, who had just caused the bell to ring. Leave it to your dad to piss off the woman who loved him through his worst and best without even trying.

You're so focused on watching the interaction at the bar you miss it when he walks in.

"Bradshaw! That you?" Nat's voice rings out over the noise of the bar. It's only now starting to get busy, and you can't help the way your head snaps over to him.

You'd knew he'd be here. He said as much in his email, but being confronted by him and the past you avoided was something you decided then and there that you weren't ready for.

You're stuck, frozen, watching him interact with Phoenix.

"This is how I find out you're stateside?" she asks before lining up to take her next shot.

"Yeah I thought I'd surprise you," he responds with an easy camaraderie that you hadn't realized existed with the woman you considered to be one of your closest friends these days.

He's looking around the bar, not having spotted you yet, when Nat lets out a hum, taking her shot. Obviously, she lands another in the pocket; this was Phoenix we're talking about. She manages to hit Bradley in the gut with the end of the pool cue, forcing him to keel over a bit.

A petty and vindictive piece of you takes pleasure in that. But another piece, a little girl, she aches for the easygoing relationship and the best friend she once had.

"Guess I surprised you back," she smirks, facing Bradley.

He nods at her, "it's good to see you," he manages to huff out, slowly standing back up.

"It's good to see you too," she smiles, and he lays a gentle hand on her shoulder, and you have to turn back around.

You're counting your breaths again, focusing on what you can see, touch, hear, taste, and smell. You realize too late that Jake's analyzing you. He'd seen how you stiffened up and focused on the interaction, and he saw how you forced yourself to turn around, away from Bradley.

He grabs the beers Penny offers him and a glass of something else, says something to Penny, you think, and then turns back, walking toward you. He places the glass in your hand with a whispered "G&T."

"Thanks," you manage to spit out.

"Where's your head?" he asks, voice still low, and you know that right now, no one is paying attention to the two of you.

"A little too far off the ground," you admit; it wasn't worth the effort to lie to Jake; generally, he saw through it anyway.

You notice how his eyes dart past you, looking at Brad and Nat, but he doesn't ask you about it. Instead, he asks, "What do you need?"

"Time machine?" you ask, eyes finally meeting his straight on instead of jumping around like they had been. He was good at that, asking the right questions; probably a perk of learning how to piss everyone off is also knowing when to pull back.

"Fresh out, I'm afraid," the drawl in his Texan accent always appeared early in the morning and late at night, but also when he drank. Your favorite appearance was in the whispers when he talked low, and it just tended to bleed into every word; it made you think of Jake the football star, Jake the kid who grew up on a ranch, a version of the man before you, you never got to meet.

"Then I guess I'll have to just… manage," you muse sourly.

"You always tend to do better than just manage, 'Thena," he reminds you.

"I don't know about that, at least not this time," you admit.

"This got something to do with Bradshaw?"

"You're too observant to play dumb," is how you answer.

"What, is this a kiss and not tell situation?" There's a cloud in the green of Jake's eyes as he asks, and you're tempted to answer, but quite honestly, you weren't sure if there was a statute of limitations on don't kiss and tell, and you're not sure if your first kiss when you were 13 counts.

"No, it's a different kind of history," is what you actually say. "I'll be okay, you go on though, I just need a minute," you urge.

Jake hesitates, not at all sold on what you'd said, but slowly, he takes a step forward and then another until he's approaching the pool table again.

...

everything: @butterfly-skinnylegend

athena’s tags: @omgbrianab @smoothdogsgirl @bazellawriz @sbrewer21 @inky-sun @djs8891 @rory-cakes

[another-bryk-in-the-wall]

Porn Star Ivar (Ivar Lothbrok x F!Reader) - Part 1 & 2

I think I accidentally deleted the 1st part of the fanfic so here are both parts again! pls enjoy! i am trying to use as less details as possible for the girlie too tho.

Warnings: smut, masturbation, Ivar’s moods

*

‘Casting Call - Girly for my next shot wanted’

When she read those words on his website, she didn’t think too much of them - yet they were burnt into her brain. Not admitting to them. But she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about them the following night and at work. Of course, this man was in her thoughts all the time. Clothed, unclothed. It didn’t matter.

Her fingers trembled as she hovered them above the screen, ready to click on the button. It’d take her to the casting call, to the specific requests he had for his girlies. From his continent. He wouldn’t spend his time flying in ladies from buttfuck nowhere if the girls close by are just as sweet. Well, one point for her. Not too big, not too small. The fuck did he mean with that?

The guy asked for a few pictures of the girlies. Everything would be handled under highest discretion and the pictures would be deleted after a few months. What he’d do with the pictures in the meanwhile? Well, a picture of her tits was out there thanks to her ex, so it wouldn’t be the worst thing ever. Pictures of her clothed, in her favourite lingerie and of her bare breasts. Guess this man was a tits man after all, just how she had suspected it.

Let’s sleep over it for another night, she thought as she put her phone away for the night. As her mind started to wander to what would happen once she submitted her casting call, an oh so familiar notification sound ripped her straight out of it. He had uploaded another set to his profile, and she couldn’t wait to see it.

‘Hey guys! this weeks photoshoot has a special meaning to me. my ancestors were vikings and this photoshoot was done to...honour them ;) enjoy!’

He was wrapped in furs and had some fake blood smeared on his upper body. His tattooed arms and chest poked out of the furs along with his hard cock. Oh fuck, she thought to herself, hopefully his ancestors are looking down from Valhalla and are proud of him now.

Screw sleep. Ever since this man started his onlyfans, her nights were spent thinking of what he could do to her, how he would feast on her pussy like a starving man. So many thoughts, not enough orgasms to calm her hunger. Nothing could keep her hands on top of the sheets at this point.

As her hands wandered down to her clothed sex, she swore she could taste him already. He’d taste of cigarettes and whiskey and testosterone. Fingers gazing over her clit, making her body vibrate in excitement. In the second picture, his whole body was exposed, his hard cock in his hand. He wasn’t a small man by any means, but his hands seemed to pale compared to his large cock. A drop of pre cum glistered on his tip, daring to drip down. She wondered how his cum would taste.

Her orgasm came hard and fast. After spending most of her day with slick thighs, thinking of so many ‘what ifs’, What if he chooses her. What if he takes her with him. What if he takes her right then and there? Her legs trembled as she imagined his cock inside of her instead of her bad dragon, curing the aching emptiness inside of herself.

On the following day, she took the pictures necessary for the submission. After about 200 pictures and having to choose only three good looking ones, her fingers hovered over a button again. But this time, this press could change her life. One, two, three, you can do this, she whispered as she closed her eyes and hit ‘send’.

She just successfully submitted her tits to Ivar Lothbrok, one of the top content creators on onlyfans.

*

“What do you think, Ivar? This girlie looks nice.”, Hvitserk said as he scrolled through the countless submission with his younger brother. Hundreds of women saw their chance to get into bed with their favourite porn star. The submissions ranged from barely legal 18 years old to MILFS (oh, how Ivar enjoyed their tits!), the occasional guy was present too.

Hvitserk turned the laptop into Ivar’s direction who was currently busy hitting up some lady in DMS. He placed his phone on the side for a moment, eyeing the submission. Black hair, pale skin. Eyes as blue as the ocean, something to match his own. Just the right size for his likeness, with a pair of boobs he could grab without troubles. Ivar nodded as he grabbed his phone once more, “Put her on the list. I will get over the best in a short while. If you excuse me now, a hot chick wants to see my dick.”

*

The mail with all the useful information hit her like a train. Having forgotten about submitting her information and pictures to her favourite porn star for a moment, she didn’t even think he (or his management) would come back at her, not even for a ‘sorry you didn’t make it’. Every word knocked more air out of her lungs as she held her phone with shaking hands.

“My dearest,

After seeing so many beautiful women over the past few days, making a decision was hard. I’d love to invite each and every single one to spend a few days with me, to show her what pleasure really means.

But you are the lucky one.”

She swallowed dry as the words seemed to overcrowd her brain, not letting her process anything she had just read. Over and over again. She was the chosen one? With her lightly saggy tits, her uneven eyebrow game and the not so white teeth? For real?

“I’d love to meet you next month. We can discuss further arrangements via mail, please let me know when you can fly in to me. Of course, hotel and flight will be paid by me.

Please reply to this mail asap :)

Love

Ivar Lothbrok”

*

Ivar scrolled through his phone again when the notification for a new mail piqued his interest. It was the girlie he had chosen. Well, not he alone. Hvitserk had some saying in it too - “make her be one of the ‘normal’ ones, then they will think they have a chance with you. And you know what that means? More cash for us.”

Hvitserk might not be the brightest light bulb in the lamp but he sure had his good moments. Ivar had chosen her in the end, maybe it was morbid curiosity, maybe she had actually peaked his interest too. He was tired of all the supermodels who are starfishes in bed. For his future content, he needed a freak.

And she just gave him these vibes.

___________________________

Part 2:

Hvitserk had the task of picking her up at the airport. The ticket wasn’t terribly expensive, and Ivar couldn’t wait to spend some time with his new...friend. She flew in on Wednesday and would stay until Monday, just enough time to get comfortable with each other and fuck. If it were to Ivar’s liking, they’d already fuck on Wednesday on the way home, but even the most impressive cock had its social standards to uphold.

The sign he drew for her was simple - her name and a few hearts on it. Knowing they’d spent most of their days in his house, either fucking or sleep, he had to make a good first impression. And Hvitserk was always a good first impression.

“You must be (Y/N), right?”, Hvitserk called out at the airport when he spotted her. With a big smile, she nodded, recognizing the man instantly. After he had shown up on Ivar’s instagram so often, she felt like she had met his family already, just a step away from the engagement ring. “Come on, Ivar is already waiting for us. Do you need anything for your stay? We can make a quick stop at a grocery store.”

After buying her body weight in different snacks and drinks, Hvitserk and her headed to the place Ivar was staying. It was a bit outside of the town, on top of a small hill. The house was inhabited by Ivar and Hvitserk most of the time, sometimes their girlies of the week too. But who was she to judge, if she could, she’d move there in a heartbeat.

The car ride was filled with some sweet chatter, feeling as if Hvitserk had been her friend for years. Sharing stories of the plane ride and what had happened to her. Thankfully no crying child was in front of her this time and no school class on their way to their language trip around. She’d even call it peaceful, as peaceful as being 10,000 feet above any kind of solid ground could be.

As the two pulled into the driveaway, Hvitserk stopped the car but didn’t unlock the doors just yet. “Just you know”, he said as he turned towards her, a small frown on his forehead, “Ivar can be moody sometimes. A real grump. A dick, I’d even call him. But don’t let this imitate you. He is still a human being after all this time and your consent is the most important thing. Fuck, if you think he is a fuckface, I can drive you back to the airport in an hour too.”, and all she could do was nod. The whole idea was still insane to her and honestly, she still couldn’t believe she was actually doing this. Knowing that there was someone around to catch her in case she’d fall was comforting.

By the time Hvitserk unlocked the doors, Ivar was standing in the door, waving them over. “Hey! You gotta be (Y/N)! Welcome to your new home!”, he smiled. Once she reached him, Ivar kissed her cheek left and right to greet her, a habit he had picked up on one of his many travels all around the globe. “Come inside, will you? Well, at least you can do that now, later it’s going to be my turn.”

Oh my.

*

The room she had gotten in the villa was bigger than her flat at home. Even with her own bathroom, the view reaching far, over the city to the mountains so many miles away. From her own, the reach was down to her neighbour’s garden where the old grump likes to sunbathe naked. She couldn’t tell how many times she had accidentally flashed by him when she just wanted to water her plants.

The view took her breath away, so much that she didn’t realize Ivar had entered the room. His eyes wandered over the open suitcase placed on the bed, filled with what she needed for the trip. Clothes, hygiene products…but what he was interested in was the lingerie placed neatly on top of the mountain of clothes.

“How do you know that black lingerie is my favourite?”, Ivar smirked as he picked one bra up, twirling it around with his finger. She turned around to look at the Dane, giving him a smile too. “You said it before in a video.” “Ah ah, got a very careful listener there, don’t I? I think you’ll do good in the videos. I can feel it in my bones.”

*

Ivar’s moodiness started to show during dinner. The two knuckleheads, as she had jokingly called them, had ordered dinner in, some chinese food, enough to feed an army and a half. It wasn’t even a big thing. The delivery guy had mixed up two bags, and instead of one order of noodles with chicken, they got noodles with vegetables.

But Ivar? For him, it was as if the world was ending. “Those useless bastards can’t do anything right! Complaining about not getting enough money and then can’t even tell two bags apart! Fuck them all!”, with those words, he got up from his seat, his chair falling down behind him. Not caring about a single thing in the world, he grabbed his bag and stormed out of the dining hall before Hvitserk or her could stop him.

Silence laid over the two for minutes, the rice and chicken steaming in front of them. “I am sorry.”, Hvitserk was the one to break the quietness, their eyes locking. “It is not only about the food, trust me. But don’t take it too close to your heart. It is not about you. It is just…Ivar.”

Once they finished eating, she decided to call it a day. Passing by Ivar’s room, she could hear whimpers coming from the inside. What was actually going on with him?

[miss-smutty]

A/N- I've been dubious about writing Thor but I just had to do this, it's been running around my mind for weeks 🙈 I'll be adding this to my Valentine's One-Shot series

Summary- You've been stood up, on valentine's Day or all days. At least you won't be spending the night alone, now Thor finally has you to himself.

Word count- 1, 806

Pairing- Thor x you

Warnings- Swearing, smut, unprotected sex

18+ Only!

Posted: 10th February 2021

⚡ Bolts of Pleasure ⚡

You leant your head on the cold, marble worktop - the coolness easing the pressure of the already lingering tension head ache. How could he stand you up? Today of all day's. 

Somewhere in the distance, over the sound of your own thoughts, you barely hear the sound of the main door sliding open. Nonchalantly wondering who it could be, you knew it wasn't Tony because he was out at dinner with Pepper and you knew this because you were supposed to be there too - a double date. 

Something Pepper had organised because she was the one who set you up with that prick in the first place - you can't even bring yourself to say his name. You should've known dating anyone who wasn't involved in anything within the headquarters would end in trouble anyway.

You assumed the other couples would be out doing other romantic bullshit while you were sure all the other guys were on a mission. So who the hell could it be? 

The kitchen doors opened behind you and by the sounds of the unmistakably heavy foot fall, it was definitely Thor. Neither of you said anything for a noticeably long pause, you didn't even bother to move your head off of the kitchen worktop.

"You do know it's the day of the valentine's, don't you?" Comes Thors booming voice from behind you, trust him to state the obvious.

"Valentine's Day and yes of course I do, why do you think I'm here? Alone. Banging my head against the counter." 

"Please don't do that, I don't want you to hurt yourself" he says with a sincerity in his voice.

"Sarcasm just goes straight over your head doesn't it?" You say, finally standing up to face Thor just so he could see you rolling your eyes at him. You know the statement would be lost to him if he couldn't see your facial expressions.

"Not much can go over my head without me seeing it first, but yes if you say so" ok so even seeing your facial expression didn't work this time. You laugh out loud at his lack of understanding.

"Oh Thor, you do know how to cheer me up" 

"Good. Now you may proceed with your head banging if you so wish" 

Have you always found his ditziness to be so cute or is this a new occurance?

"I'm going to put my head back down but only because I have a banging headache, these pills should kick in soon. Besides now you're here you might as well keep me company" This made Thor smile from ear to ear as you resumed your earlier position.

Unbeknownst to you Thor had walked in to the room to find you bent over, your delicious ass accentuated by those tight leather trousers you were wearing. He'd been hoping to find you here alone, once he'd heard about you being stood up, but wasn't quite sure how to handle how he found you. If he had his way he would have just walked over and made his move straight away but he'd been taught how things work differently here and he's been working so hard on his restraint.

Now you're bent over again and it's making his mind go blank, all he can think about is how he wants to shove his dick into you while he grabs on to those voluptuous cheeks. 

"Thor?" You ask wondering why he's still stood by the doors.

Fuck, the way you say his name makes his fingertips tingle with bolts of electrical current. He wants to hear you scream his name while he's pulling your hair back and slamming his dick between those cheeks until he's balls deep. 

"Your trousers are very tight" You hear Thor's footsteps stop behind you and before you can mutter something about him stating the obvious a moan escapes your lips as a slight bolt of electric soars through your core. Where did that come from? 

Thor still hadn't quite got to grips with controlling his power while he was in the moment - maybe something to do with all the testosterone. His eyes widened, shocked by your reaction but the way he elicited that moan spurred him to continue.

Thor's hands were still gripping your ass as you got your bearings, realising where the shock came from and not hating the idea. You wanted more.

Moving his hands to your hips as you pushed yourself on to his straining cock, gripping on tightly while he pushed himself against you - his head hanging back as he bit his bottom lip and felt the lightning electrify his body.

Fuck me. If you knew sex with Thor would be this amazing you would've made sure it happened a lot sooner. You could feel his body tingling, like a vibration as the currents circulated through his veins,

flowing with the blood into his rather large appendige.

Thor slapped your ass again, accidentally catching your slit with his fingertips. Your pussy clenched as another bolt of pleasure went through you.

"Shit, Thor" you moaned deeply making him groan with desperation.

He's wanted to hear you saying his name, like that, for a while now and isn't disappointed with the way it sounds falling from your lips. Now he won't stop until your screaming his name, begging for him to fuck you into oblivion.

You pushed yourself against his now rock hard cock craving the feel of him inside of you. The vibration hits your clit and sends you over the edge, making you tremble and your knees go weak as you come, hard. Feeling dizzy as you come down.

Thor catches you as you buckle, turning you around and pushing you up against the counter. Your eyes are hooded with need as he handles your body, gripping at your curves with his electric fingers.

Your body jerks everytime he touches you, little does he know that with every touch your pussy clenches building up that deep orgasm once again. Thor's powers leave other men at a major disadvantage, how can anyone ever live up to this. Even worse, how can you now be around Thor without thinking about what he can do to you every time you see him.

His hand travels hungrily up your top, straight to your nipples while his lips attach to yours. You can feel his facial hair tickling your upper lip, a whole new sensation to your already tingling body.

Thor takes your tender, erect nipples between his thumb and forefinger. Squeezing gently as he emits tiny shocks and watches as you convulse around him, small, soft whimpers leaving your mouth involuntarily.

"Mmm, Thor. Fuck" you can't stand the tension much longer.

He's in awe with how much he can pleasure you with just the touch of his fingers. If he'd known it would be this easy to make your usual fiesty self, submit so easily, he wouldn't have been quite so intimidated by you. Look at you now, quivering under his touch, he's pretty sure your seconds away from fully giving yourself to him. He stops touching you, waiting to see how you'll react, testing his theory.

"Don't stop" you moan, pushing your heat against him as his hands grab your ass.

"Tell me what you want, my love" he whispers seductively against your ear, almost making you come.

"Oh god, do that again" you whine into his neck, wrapping your arms around his neck and savouring the other worldly scent of the god of thunder.

"Do what? My sweet - " his breath tickles your ear as he whispers again, he knows exactly what you want. Nibbling gently on your earlobe as you struggle to hold up the weight of your head, crumbling beneath him. " - Now, tell me what you want" 

"I want you. Fuck me Thor, fuck me hard" leaning back on your hands with your lips parted.

"I thought you'd never ask" he growls, his voice becoming impossibily deeper.

Trying to pull down those tight trousers is going to take way too long and he doesn't have the patience for that. Instead he reaches out and effortlessly slits the gusset in half. Unable to contain himself when he sees how wet you are.

You reach down to unbuckle his belt, he's watching you intently, his cock straining against his trousers. You pull them down, just enough to watch his cock spring up, with a weapon like that he has no need for the Mjolnir. You instinctively want to take it in your mouth but there's no time for that now. You lean backwards, watching as he lines his cock up with your entrance. He stops, pausing for an agonisingly long time, watching your face screw with need.

Thor can see how much you want him and he's savouring the moment, relishing in it. Not forgetting how he wants to hear you beg for him, waiting patiently. 

You look at him expectantly, grinding yourself forward until you can feel the tip of his cock. 

"Thor, please!" You plead embarrassingly, desperately.

That's all he needed to hear before he painfully, slowly eased himself into your tight pussy. Inhaling deeply as your walls clamped around him. Finally feeling the warmth of your insides, a feeling he's been craving since the first time he met you.

You laid back on to the counter while he gripped your thighs, holding them up as he slammed his cock deep into you, the pressure building as he relentlessly pounds you. Those bolts of pleasure sending shocks shooting through your veins, with every thrust.

Thor held onto your thighs tightly, gripping his thumbs into your flesh while he ravages you. Months and months of pent up frustration finally being released. Grunting as he thrusted the brutal strength of his passion into you with force, loving the way your face contorts with every hit of your spot.

"Thor!" You scream his name as you gush all over his cock when he hits your spot, hard, repeatedly.

Your finally screaming his name, hopefully not for the last time. He watches the way your third orgasm builds, clenching around him as your legs shake in his hands.

How could it be the only time, when this is what he does to you? You're a dripping mess by the time he's ready. The gripping sensation rising as your climaxes peak again, releasing sparks of lightning all around you. Pushing his cock deep inside you as he shoots his warm, powerful load into you.

Your hair clings to your face as you fall back onto the counter, your body feels like jelly and you can't move just yet. Your eyes are closed but you can feel Thor still holding your legs while he waits for you to recover, gently tickling your thighs with his thumb.

"I've wanted to do that for such a long time, would you be willing to make love with me again?" He says smiling widely, hardly breathelss at all - the stamina of a god! 

"You can do that again?" You say breathlessly, impressed with his enthusiasm.

"I can go all night, my love. I am the god of thunder" he says proudly, puffing out his chest. 

"You certainly are" 

[waatermelon-sugaar]

Take Care of Me

Pairing = Santiago x reader

Words = 5.5k

Summary = A discussion about sex toys turns into something more … concrete

Warnings = Swearing, talk/description of mild anxiety. SMUT (18+ only), use of handcuffs in a sexy way, oral, piv sex

A/N = Prompt no.8 requested by @itspdameronthings​ as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much, hope you like it! Prompt was “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself” w/santi and bolded in text. Also 3 things; 1 = Tom doesn’t exist in this AU, 2 = this is basically pure smut im so sorry, and 3 = I did do head hopping in this, which I know you’re not like supposed to do but also fuck the rules y’know?

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

***

It’s always easy to be loose after one of Benny’s fights.

It’s a heady mix of adrenaline, beer and testosterone, swirling together into a mix that makes you forget your normal boundaries. You’re normally quite brazen about your sex life anyway, but there is a line. You respect your partners, and there’s no need for your teammates to know too much.  

You’re all packed into a half-moon booth, Benny straddling a chair that he pulled up to the table after he spent too long chatting up the bartender.

It’s a small comment from Benny (because of course it’s Benny), saying that you haven’t got laid in a while, and you’re honestly surprised he noticed. But then, that’s the only predictable thing about Benny, that he is unpredictable.

Your surprise means you take a little too long actually thinking about it, which confirms Benny’s statement. You lean back a little in your seat, desperately ignoring Santi, who’s sat to your left. It also means you bite back a little harder in defence.

“Well maybe if you guys didn’t look like you’re about to murder anyone who even dares ask for my number maybe I’d have better luck.” That’s a lie, but there’s no way you’re going to tell them the truth. No way you’re going to tell Santi-

Your thoughts are interrupted by Will, sat to your right. “So you’re asking for our help?”

You scoff, hitting him up the head. “No, thank you.” Will knows why. Because of course he does. One of your oldest friends, he’d been the one who convinced you to join the team in the first place. “Despite what you think, I am completely capable of taking care of myself.”

You send a wink down to the table to Benny, who’s the first to catch on, hollering, and you try not to react to Santi leaning forward, suddenly interested, as though you’re not already hyper-aware of every body movement of his.

You continue, deciding you’re quite enjoying the effect you’ve had. “What do I need some stranger for when I can give myself a better orgasm than he could ever dream of?” You take a sip of your drink to hide your grin, as both Benny and Will holler, gaining a few glares from the pub’s other patrons.

That sip means you’re unprepared for Santi to lean in closer to you, his lips so close to your ear that you can feel his breath. “Maybe ‘stranger’ is where you’re going wrong.”

You swallow, unprepared for the sudden flare of attraction shooting through you and turning your head, just as he says, “I could take care of you.”

You catch a glimpse of Santi’s fuck me eyes when Benny (the dickhead) interrupts. Crossing his arms on the sticky table in front of him, he asks, “Does that mean you have toys?”

Frankie’s hat somehow tips lower on his head, if that’s possible.

Will twitches towards his brother, like he wants to strangle Benny for being so uncouth, but you put your hand on his upper arm. “Of course.” The best course of action is to just act like this is normal, so add a bit of air to your voice. This was normal. “Who doesn’t?”

There’s a blush rising on Benny’s cheeks and you can’t help but stoke it, grinning at him, and attempting your best bedroom eyes. He’s still not too ashamed to ask though. “What kinds?”

Will decides he’s had enough, glancing at Santi behind you with a frown and hitting Benny over the head in an imitation of the way you’d hit him. You laugh, unexpectedly pleased at the reaction you’ve gotten. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Benny nods, eager, even as Will stands, grabbing a hold of him, and steering him towards the bar. “Yes! Yes I would!” He manages to throw back at you and you laugh again, twisting your body to face Santi and Frankie, bringing your left leg onto the bench.

***

Meanwhile Santiago is in hell. He’s been in multiple hellish situations before, most similar to this one, in that it was always the 5 of you, bullets flying around your heads, rifles in your arms, weighed down by heat and sweat and tac vests.

And yet somehow, he thinks this might be the worst. Your foot next to his thigh, your knee bent, pulling your jeans up your leg and exposing your ankle to him. Watching you flirt with Benny, talking about sex, and toys, and masturbation. When that's all he wants to do with you. He just has to get the courage to tell you.

With you, there was a before in Santi’s life, and an after.

Before he knew you; and after he knew you.

Before he loved you; and after he loved you.

Except Santi’s not quite sure when he fell in love with you.

It started when Will introduced you as the newest member of the team, one of his childhood friends. He didn’t mean for it to happen, he treated you like he treated anyone else, quickly discovering that you weren’t like anyone else.

He welcomed you into his life with open arms, starting off innocently - he wanted to spend time with you. You were Will’s friend, which meant that there must be something good about you. You made him laugh, made him feel safe (even when he wasn’t). He’d wanted to do the same for you and thought he did a pretty good job.

He became your friend, until one day the two of you were watching a film. He can’t remember what it was, just that you were at his house, drinking and laughing and talking, huddled in one of his blankets, and looking like you belonged there, forever.

Falling in love with you was so easy, Santi didn’t even realise he was doing it.

Santi’s still impressed with himself that he didn’t just blurt out the words then and there. I love you.

How long had he been in love with you for? He couldn’t pinpoint down a specific moment. He remembered the night when you’d become friends - the last two around the bonfire, toasting marshmallows, making that awkward small-talk that occurs between acquaintances.

You’d made him laugh, playing chubby-bunny and teasing him until he’d had a go. You’d talked and talked, and Santi can’t even remember what about. Nothing, probably. The basics. Boring stuff, but filled with details that he’d used to keep the conversation going the next day.

He knows when he became your friend. Recognised when you trusted him more than the others, with the exception of maybe Will.

But he didn’t know when he fell in love with you. Just the day that the love became so overwhelming in his chest that he realised it.

The real nail in his metaphorical coffin was the night afterwards. The 5 of you had gone to a bar, and a girl had started talking to him as he was buying drinks. She was pretty, but she wasn’t you. And like a flashbulb, all of Santi’s previous partners flew through his mind and he realised that nothing had ever come out of them because they weren’t you.

They didn’t know how he liked his coffee, or why he had joined the military. They didn’t know the story behind his callsign, or what his favourite song was.

You did. What you weren’t there for, you asked about. You remembered. You made him feel important, like he mattered. In ways that he didn’t even really know existed.

You were the one that started him on decaf without telling him. That had been a conversation and a half. Before morning briefings, you’d started bringing him coffees. He hadn’t noticed much of a taste difference, and shamefully, had come to expect them.

Until, a month later, you weren’t there. A small trip home to visit your family, everyone knew you’d be back in a couple of days. Regardless, Santi had ordered what he’d thought was his usual coffee.

And found his anxiety rearing up again. It was subtle, making him more jumpy, less able to sleep, but it was there. He wasn’t sure what the cause was, definitely hadn’t linked it to the coffee, instead assuming that maybe he just missed you. Maybe because his anxiety hadn’t disappeared all the way, even with decaf. Maybe it was because it was your presence that helped him too.

He hadn’t even really noticed when the caffeine was gone, hadn’t noticed the absence of something wrong, only seeing the contrast when it returned. Maybe because it was gradual, the weaning off the caffeinated coffee, whereas the return, with his request of additional shot, had been too sharp for him.

You hadn’t noticed at first, assuming that Santi’s bear hug when he’d first seen you had just been because he missed you. But after lunch you pulled him to one side.

“Are you alright?” Your eyes are slightly wider with worry, and you’re chewing slightly on your bottom lip.

He hates that he’s the one to do that to you, and he tries to brush it off. “I’m fine.” That was his first mistake. His second was trying to push past you.

“Santiago!” He’s pulled up short, and there’s that tension, pulling at his shoulders, his eyebrows. “Tell me what’s wrong.” Your tone of voice hasn’t changed, but this time it’s a command.

Exhausted, hating himself, Santi drags his hands across his face. “Nothing. It’s nothing. I don’t...I don’t know.” He takes a breath, and it shudders through him. “I don’t know.” He sounds defeated, and he hopes you can’t hear it. “I just...I feel…” How does he feel? “Jittery.” Is what he finally settles on, but the word still feels wrong somehow.

You frown, looking him up and down like you’ve never seen him before. In fact, you’re silent for so long, Santi starts to be worried that you’re going to tell him to stop being so fucking ridiculous.

You don’t, but you ask questions.

Has he been sleeping? “Not really.”

Does he have something big coming up? “Just the usual.”

Has his daily routine changed at all? “No, I don’t think so. I get myself a coffee in the morning and the-”

You interrupt him with a hand on his arm. “I’m so sorry.” And now it’s wrong, because now you’re looking at him like it’s your fault, when it definitely isn’t. “Santi I’m sorry. It’s your coffee.”

Santi frowns. His coffee? And you sound so apologetic, and he doesn’t understand why. “I switched you to decaf.” You can’t meet his eyes any more, gaze skittering to his shoulder with nerves. And you’re not shutting up. “I’m sorry, I should have told you, or asked if I could, I just... I knew you were getting nightmares, and decaf helped me so I thought it might help y-”

Santi cuts you off with a hug.

And now, the three of you sat in the booth, he hates himself for agreeing with Benny. He would like to know. He has a sneaking suspicion, odd little comments you’ve made throughout the years that when pieced together, paint a picture. A very vivid picture that he sometimes uses to torture himself, late at night in bed, imagining what you’d look like with your hands between your legs and wrapping a hand around his-

Santi shakes his head. Now is not the time. There’s never really a good time to fantasise about one of your best friends, but in public when they’re sitting next to you, is definitely one of the worst.

And why did he have to offer to take care of you? Did he think he was in some kind of cheesy porno? What if you hated him-

In the end, it’s you who breaks him out of his thoughts. “Don’t tell me you’re embarrassed Pope.” You push out with your foot, lightly kicking his thigh, unable to read his stony face.

Throughout all of this, Frankie has kept quiet, and now the conversation seems like it’ll be returning to safer ground, he rubs a hand over his face, lifting his hat slightly. “No.” Santi protests, although he says it too fast for it to be sincere. “I’m not embarrassed.”

“Good,” you reply, and Santi can see the moment a thought pops into your head that you can’t resist, he can see it in the way your eyes light up with mischief. “Out of all the boys, I figured you’d be the most likely to use toys.”

Frankie quickly slides out from his seat, muttering something about going to the toilet, his cheeks aflame, as Santi chokes a little on his beer. “Or maybe Will,” you muse, and Santi coughs again. “Shit, are you alright?” You ask, rocking forward to lean on your knee so you can rub Santi’s back for a second.

He concentrates on getting himself back under control, on not focusing how warm your hand is against his back. He takes deep breaths in an attempt to calm his heart down, praying that the room is dark enough that you won’t see him blush.  

Santi nods, his eyes watering a little, and you laugh, but it’s not unkind, not even when one of your thumbs wipes at his lower lash line, brushing away his tears with the pad. It’s so unexpectedly soft, another sharp contrast to this sticky, seedy bar they’re all in, where the booth seats are cracked and the most complicated drink they make is a rum and coke.

“Good,” you say, voice quiet, scooting back on the bench, your foot closer to his thigh this time, and Santi hates himself for wanting to follow you.

Instead, he pretends everyone else is still here, even as he watches Will whisper something into Benny’s ear as they stand, drinking next to the bar, with no clear intention of returning. Suddenly Benny punches Will’s upper arm, and Santi’s eyebrows twitch slightly in confusion. Benny looks ecstatic, and for what?

“I’ve used handcuffs,” he says casually, half of his mind taken up with Benny and Will acting like lunatics at the bar behind you. He’s wrenched back to you when you raise an eyebrow, and he’s reminded what it feels like to be the centre of your world.

Fuck, you’re sexy though.

***

Your heart beat speeds up, suddenly sounding loud in your chest. Your mind is screaming Danger! at you - but how can it be? This is Santiago. You would trust him with your life. You have.

I could take care of you, flashes through your mind again. Maybe-

“Yeah?” You ask, trying to act calm when there’s a steady thrumming under your skin. “And are you the tied up person, or do you do the tying?”

Santi scoffs, like he thinks the answer is obvious. Maybe it is.

“I do the tying.”

You smirk, dragging an exaggerated eye up and down his body. “Sure about that?”

He looks relaxed, like he can take up more space now Frankie has gone. One of his hands is on your calf, gently trailing up and down, slowly setting you on fire, and you don’t even think he realises he’s doing it. There’s something in his eyes that you don’t recognise, darker, although it seems familiar. That’s been happening more and more lately, especially when it’s just the two of you. You like it.

“You want to test me babygirl?”

You feel breathless. “Maybe I’d like to try.”

You’ve never spoken with Santi like this before. You flirt with him more than the other boys, but this is new. This feels...real, somehow. More dangerous. And he’s closer now, shifting, so your foot is over his lap, his hand wrapped around your ankle, on your bare skin and you’ve forgotten how to breathe. You watch his hand move on your leg and you feel like you could evaporate.  

“That’s not what good girls do.” Fuck, his voice.

“Good girls don’t do a lot of things I do.”

And you’re not sure what gives you the sudden confidence, but you lean forwards, pressing a soft kiss to his mouth. It’s a horrible angle, your legs in the way, but you don’t care.

And then you’re retreating, opening your eyes again, suddenly unsure of what you’ve just done. Your mouth feels tingly, where you can still feel Santi against you. His grip has tightened on your leg, no longer moving.

And then his hand is tugging at you a little, and there’s a smile threatening to take over his face.

Come here.

You scoot up, so your left leg is fully over him, your right leg tangling with his under the table and you can smell him now, beer and - as weird as it sounds - like a man. It’s familiar. Nice. Breathless, you shoot him a little grin, suddenly unsure.

And then he’s kissing you again and it’s everything you ever dreamed of. His lips are soft, but firm, moving against your mouth, contrasting with the slight stubble growing on his face. His free hand moves to your waist and you let out a small sound.

You break apart after a second, both of you breathless. You’ve slung your arms around his neck, fingers idly playing with his chain, and you’re the first to speak.

“So do you use those handcuffs on anyone?”

Santi kisses you again, short and sweet, before he answers, his lips mumbling against yours. “Hmm, just on girls I really like.”

You kiss again, neither of you really wanting to stop. “Can I use them on you?” Santi asks, moving to kiss along your jaw, nipping at your earlobe. You feel surrounded by him, he’s all you care about, all you can feel.

Your eyes snap open, desire pooling in your belly. Is this really happening? “Yes.”

“Good.” Santi’s voice is still low in your ear, before he moves down your neck, soft lips a stark contrast to his stubble catching on your skin. “How do you feel about a date, too?”

“Yeah?” You lean back slightly so you can see his face. He’s beautiful in this light, face half hidden in the shadows, eyes dark.

His lips are brushing yours again.

“Yeah. I’ll pick you up, take you somewhere nice, do it properly.”

“Good,” you mumble against him, “that sounds really good.” Your fingers are still playing with his chain, lightly brushing against the scar on his neck. “Shall we go?”

Before you know it, the two of you are sitting in a cab, having said a quick goodbye to the others, Will asking if it was safe for them to sit back in the booth. You’d responded with the finger, not bothering with a proper reply.

Santi leans over to you, whispering into your ear. “Can I really tie you up?”

You clench your thighs together, closing your eyes in an effort not to physically respond. The pause is enough for Santi to hesitate, hand shyly holding yours. “It’s ok, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, it was just a-”

You stop him with a kiss, moving your hand so you can squeeze him in reassurance. When you answer, it’s a mumble against his mouth so the driver doesn’t hear. “Break out the handcuffs, and we’ll see if you’re as tough as you act, big boy.”

Santi groans when you lean away from him.

Getting inside Santi’s flat is a feat in itself, and you’re honestly a little proud of the restraint both of you showed by not fucking in the stairwell, stopping every couple of meters to kiss each other senseless, hips clumsily knocking together as you rile each other up.

You’ve been inside his flat before, so when Santi kicks the door closed, walking you backwards into his bedroom, kissing you all the while, you don’t protest. It’s so nice to finally kiss Santi like you’ve wanted to for a while now, so nice to feel his hands on your waist, pushing you backwards while his hips press into yours, steady now, purposeful.

His fingers are playing with the waist of your trousers, and you help him, shimmying your jeans off, pushing them down your thighs and letting them fall to the floor. Then he surprises you, dropping to his knees in front of you, pulling your knickers down your legs.

Looking down, you feel dizzy from the rush of power this brings you. Santi looks like he’s about to worship you, his face close to your pussy. His hands are on your waist and he pushes at you, encouraging you to step back.

When you don’t he tips his head back, exposing his neck to you. “Step back.” His voice is dangerous and you can feel more wetness gathering between your legs. You grin down at him, still not moving.

In response Santi nips at your thigh, grinning when you gasp, hands flying to his hair. He pushes at you again, and this time you let him, stepping back until you hit his bed, sitting down.

Santi presses his hand against your stomach, and you allow yourself to be pushed back, falling back onto your elbows so you can watch him. He presses his nose to your mound and you squirm, impatient, as Santi spreads your knees so he can fit between your legs.

You watch him press his nose to your pussy, burying his nose in you, feeling yourself grow wetter. “You taste so good,” he groans, “Sweetest pussy I’ve tasted.” As he begins to explore you with his tongue, your hips lift off the bed with a groan and it takes you a second to recognise your own voice, broken with need. Santi’s arm reaches out, pressing you down as he explores your folds. Stubble is scratching your thighs, a pleasantly rough feeling compared to the soft wetness, the pliability of Santi’s tongue. Your clit is the first thing he concentrates on, his tongue practically lapping at you, and it all feels so good.

One hand is desperately fisting the sheets to the side of you as you try to hold on to reality, the other knotted in Santi’s short curls, nails scraping ever so slightly along his scalp even as he lifts you higher and higher. Broken pleas of his name fall from your lips when he inserts two fingers into you, gently pumping in and out, with a strangely satisfying squelch under your cries.

Your orgasm creeps up on you, slow and unsuspecting. One second your chest is heaving, breaths short and shallow, the next you’ve tensed up as you fall apart under Santi.

He keeps kissing you, gently pressing his lips over your thighs, hips, stomach as you stare at his ceiling, willing rational thought to return to you. He’s murmuring praises into your skin, telling you how good you are for him, what a good job you’ve done, how pretty you look when you come, how he wants to make you do it again, and all the while you float somewhere above your body, hardly daring to believe this is real. Santi keeps kissing you, any skin he can get his mouth on, desperate to keep tasting you. Gradually he moves up your body, even as you lie there, panting, letting him push your top up, bunching under your arms and around your neck.

Your hands fly to his hair when he bites the soft skin of your breast peeking out from your bra, and you arch your back towards him slightly, letting out a small whine. You can feel his smirk against you, so you wrap your legs around his waist, canting your hips up, grinding against where you can feel him, hard and aching in his jeans.

Now it’s your turn to smirk, slow and lazy when Santi lets out a low growl in response. He tips his head up so he can look at you, his eyes soft as he smiles at you. “You’re going to be the death of me.”

And then his body weight is gone and he’s standing next to the bed, taking his top off and it’s not the first time you’ve seen him shirtless, of course it isn’t, but it’s the first time you’ve seen him and been allowed to look, and Santi’s all shadows and soft muscle, pale scars highlighted on his skin.

You sit up, and it takes you a second to fight your way out of your top, quickly sliding the straps of your bra off, and dropping your clothes to the side of the bed as you watch Santi cross his room, and fish out a pair of handcuffs from a box with a couple of other objects inside, as well as what you’re pretty sure looks like a strap-on. And maybe it’s because his ass is currently in your eye-line, maybe it’s the surprise, but the image of you wearing it, teasing Santi with your dick while he waits on all fours on his bed, begging for you to touch him, suddenly pops into your head, and you have to work to hold back a moan at the mental image. Oh my god.

When Santi turns back to you, he’s opened the cuffs. “Are you familiar with the traffic light system?”

You suddenly feel nervous, your mouth dry, and you don’t know why, this is Santi. He’s made it clear that you don’t have to do this, and anyway you want to. “Green is good, orange is slow down, red is stop,” you recite easily, and Santi nods in satisfaction.

“Good girl,” he says and his words hit deep in your stomach, unfurling something you hadn’t known existed. “You say something and I’ll untie you.”

You raise an eyebrow, leaning back on your hands, eyeing up the way Santi’s jeans are still on, now hanging low on his hips, exposing a small trail of hair down from his bellybutton. “What if I don’t want you to untie me?” You ask.

You can see how his eyes darken, but he doesn’t move. “Tell me you understand,” he says, voice stern and you shiver.

“I understand,” you parrot. Santi nods, pleased at you doing as he says, and steps out of his jeans, pulling his boxers off at the same time, releasing his cock. He’s hard, curving up towards his stomach and leaking pre-cum.

Almost on instinct, you lean forwards to lick it off, and Santi lets out a groan of satisfaction at the sensation of your mouth just wrapping around his head, your hands on his thighs. Before you can take him any further, he’s stepping back, shaking his head.

“Lie back,” he instructs, and you obey. Santi kneels next to you, tugging your wrists up, above your head, looping the handcuffs through his headboard and clicking them on around you. You give them an experimental tug, biting back a moan when they hold fast. “Colour?” Santi asks, and you grin up at him.

“Green.” Your voice already sounds broken. “Santi, please.”

Santi just kneels back, looking at you with those hungry eyes. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” he breathes out, hands running up and down your body, ignoring how you squirm as best you can under him.

“Oh yeah?” You ask. “Why don’t you come down here then, instead of just watching me?” Santi’s hands reach your breasts, squeezing and gently massaging and you arch your back towards him.

“You’re unhappy with my hands?” Santi returns, and stops touching you. You can’t help it, letting out a whine and straining to move your arms towards him, before remembering you can’t, your attempted movement jangling the chain a little.

“No, Santi,” you’re desperate for him to touch you again, especially now you can’t touch him,“Santi please, touch me again, touch me more.” Begging has never come so easily to you. And then Santi’s moving between your legs, gripping your hips and thrusting up, but not into you, just along your folds. You moan, shifting as best as you can while Santi coats himself with your slick, the head of his cock just pushing your clit, teasing you and riling you up further.

You suddenly really want to touch him, to rake your hands through his hair, to scratch your nails down his back, to be able to suck a purple hickey into his skin. You let your head fall back to the bed, pushing your hips towards him, desperate for more, desperate for him.

It’s only when you open your mouth in a desperate plea, a whine of his name, “Santi, Santi please,” that he begins to push into you.

Your mouth falls open in silent pleasure, just as Santi begins to talk. “Fuck, baby.” The stretch of him is delicious. “I wanted this for so long.” Now fully seated in you, he rests on his forearms, kissing you softly, first on the forehead, then on your lips. “Colour?” he asks softly.

You nearly cry from how sweet it is, how sweet he is, before responding, a mumble against his lips. “Green.” You feel full, like this is how you’re supposed to feel all the time, this is your base state, and you’re going to spend the rest of your life trying to achieve this specific feeling.

“Good girl,” Santi murmurs and you keen at the praise, feeling insatiable, wanting more, clenching around him. He grins, registering your response. “You liked that? You like being told what a good job you’re doing, how good you feel around me..” he breaks off with a gasp, and your eyes close as Santi begins to move in time with his words, long, slow thrusts as he begins to put you together again, building you up, further and further, his thrusts speeding up gradually, the sound of his dick sliding into your wetness, and the slap of skin-on-skin loud in his room, mixing with your moans.

You lift your legs up, wrapping them around his waist, hooking one of your feet around Santi’s butt. They don’t stay there for long, one of Santi’s arms pushing one leg up your body, hand under your knee as he splits you open. The new angle hits something deeper in you, and you gasp, unable to move and at the mercy of Santiago.

Your orgasm takes you by surprise, coming out of nowhere, your lower body suddenly clenching around Santi, arms straining against the handcuffs, as you try in vain to touch him. You tumble through it, muscles spasming as you fall under him. He keeps moving into you as you shudder below him, pulling you through with murmured praise and encouragement as another broken cry leaves your throat.

His thrusts start to get sloppier as he goes faster, losing his rhythm slightly and you can tell he’s near his end. As best you can, you start moving your own hips, grinding up to meet him, words of encouragement slipping past your lips. “Santi, you feel so good, are you gonna fill me up?” You coo, pouting a little, tugging your wrists a little for emphasis. “Please Santi, I want to feel you, come in me, please-”

You stop when Santi snaps his hips once more, with a groan of finality and you can feel his cum inside of you as he holds himself there, his cock pulsing within you. He presses a couple more gentle kisses to your neck before sliding out, and you hiss slightly at the pull on your sensitive folds of your pussy.

He leaves for a second, returning with a key and gently releasing your wrists. “Good girl,” he murmurs, massaging your skin. “You did so good for me.”

He helps you sit up, kissing your cheek before leaving again. This time when he returns, he has a wet rag, and a glass of water, which you take a sip from, not having realised how thirsty you were. He gently dabs the rag on the inside of your thighs first, and the two of you watch in slightly morbid fascination as Santi’s cum leaks out of you onto the rag.

“That’s kinda hot,” you comment idly, wondering if Santi fucked all sense of you.

He only laughs, wiping the mess away and cuddling up next to you. “Do you want me to do it again?” he asks as you lean into his arms, his hands wrapping around your wrists to rub circles into your skin.

“Yes,” you answer, probably too quickly but beyond caring.

“Good.”

There’s a pause, and you can tell Santi wants to ask you something, so you twist in his arms, kissing along his shoulder. The act feels small, and innocent somehow, despite your states of undress, as you try to reassure him.

“You were right,” you murmur near his ear, “Stranger was where I was going wrong.”

It takes him a second to piece your reference together, but then he grins, and it’s like he hung the sun in the sky. “Yeah? I took care of you?”

You kiss him again, this time on the lips, biting back your own identical grin. “Yeah.”

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

Tags: @fantasticcopeaglepasta​

[mmvalentine]

Fifty-Six part 2 | Feysand

Smut-fest continues, if you're enjoying this go say happy birthday to @asteria-of-mars!

Part 1 Part 3

Chapter 2: Chafing a bit?

Rhys was right about one thing- the inner circle were already seated and half way through their breakfast when they got downstairs. At the couple’s arrival, everyone looked up and greeted them warmly. They took their usual seats opposite each other, and Rhys caught Feyre’s ankles between his under the table and winked at her.

Feyre settled in between Cassian and Mor, but when the former leaned his elbow on the table and looked at her with a goofy grin, Rhys’s lips thinned.

Alright there? she asked him.

Fine, was the terse and completely unconvincing reply.

You sure you’re ready to be around other people?

Yeah, he said. I’m fine.

“So,” Cassian said, his eyes sparkling. “Mates, huh?”

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Okay, I know all of you guys knew before I did.”

“We’re sorry,” Mor blurted. “We never meant to deceive you.”

Feyre softened. “I know,” she said. “It’s okay.” Mor grinned, and heaped muffins onto Feyre’s plate.

“Welcome to the family,” she said, and it was the best thing Feyre had ever heard.

“Congratulations, both of you,” Azriel chimed in, offering her a rare smile. Feyre beamed at him.

“We’re glad to have you,” Amren said quietly, and from her, it meant the world.

The whole time, Rhys kept his eyes on Feyre, and sipped his coffee.

“We missed you guys,” Feyre said affectionately.

“Oh you did not,” Mor smiled.

But Cassian said, “Especially me, right Feyre?” and Rhys snarled.

Everyone at the table stilled, and looked at the High Lord.

“Rhys,” Feyre said. “It’s okay.” Rhys locked eyes with her for a moment, and finally nodded once. Their friends continued eating, but kept flicking wary glances in his direction. Azriel cleared his throat.

“So, since you’re back Rhys, I was hoping to have a moment to discuss Jurian’s movements. My spies in the human realm have been keeping tabs on the human queens and-”

Azriel’s attempt at distraction was interrupted by another snarl, ripping from Rhys’s throat.

“What now?” Cassian hissed at him, dropping his roll to his plate.

“Would you mind keeping your great big ape-arms to yourself?” Rhys spat back at him.

“What are you talking about?”

“Every time you move, you’re in Feyre’s space.”

“Rhys,” Feyre warned. “He’s fine.” It’s just the bond, love, she said in his mind. You’re not jealous of your brothers, remember?

Rhys did not reply. Just stared Cassian down until he shuffled further away from Feyre. Which was not very far, since the table was only so long and he was hitting the outside leg already.

“Uh, so… the human realm…” Azriel tried again.

“What about it?” Rhys asked irritably. Mor shifted in her seat. Feyre wasn’t sure whether to try to soothe or reprimand Rhys, but as Azriel talked he did seem to calm down a little. Even made a few comments on his spymaster’s plans going forward, and Feyre relaxed enough that when Cassian asked her to pass the eggs, she didn’t think too much of it. But then when Cassian took the plate from her, their fingers brushed, and in the next second Rhys was exploding across the table.

Glasses spilled and fruit rolled, and the everyone jumped back as Rhys lunged with clawed fingers and feral eyes. Amren grabbed a hold of Mor and said “Right girlie, that’s our cue to leave.” Mor shot a sympathetic glance at Feyre, then they winnowed. Az took a step forward as if he might get in between his brothers, but then thought better of it and left, too. Cassian, his nose bloodied and with egg splattered over his chest, shoved Rhys off of him with a great heave.

“Alright, alright I’m going. You big bloody baby,” he said, and then stalked out the door.

“Rhys,” Feyre began, and his head whipped round to her, teeth still bared. She held her hands up. “Rhys please calm down,” she said.

“Like hell I will,” Rhys growled, and then he lifted her by the waist and set her on the table, pushing her back among the ruined plates and stray danishes. Feyre thought to protest, but there was still testosterone rolling of Rhys in waves, and although her brain did not exactly approve of what had just happened, her body was fast taking over and by the time his lips crashed against hers, she was wrapping her legs around him and clothes were torn from their bodies in shreds.

Rhys sent apologies round after the breakfast debacle, but also stubbornly refused to admit that the mating bond was getting the better of him.

“It was just too many people at once,” he said to Feyre, after she she had taken him back to their room to wash the jam off his chest. He was sitting on the edge of the bathtub, while she wiped at him with a washcloth.

“It was too soon,” Feyre argued, looking him over for missed debris.

“Maybe I’ll just have them round one at a time, for now,” Rhys went on. Feyre sighed, and rinsed out the cloth. “Okay your turn,” he said, pulling her down and switching places with her. Feyre handed him the little towel, but Rhys, surveying the mix of breakfast smears and lovebites decorating her torso, decided there were better ways of cleaning her up. He licked her from navel to chin, and there was no further discussion about visitors that day.

But the next day, Feyre answered the door to Azriel while Rhys was in the bath. She was surprised to see him, and Azriel, for his part, actually looked nervous. Feyre wasn’t sure she’d ever seen him nervous.

“High Lady,” the Shadowsinger greeted her, ducking his head.

“Azriel,” she said warmly, and grasped his hand in hers. Azriel’s eyes widened, and peered through the doorway behind her. Feyre laughed.

“Don’t worry, he’s upstairs,” Feyre said. Azriel smiled.

“One can never be too careful with new mating bonds,” he said. “And Rhys… well, Rhys has taken my head off for less. Granted, that was a long time ago, but I’m assuming he’s basically a hormone-addled eighteen-year-old again.”

“That’s probably a safe assumption,” Feyre agreed, and showed him in. "Rhys is expecting you?"

“Yes, he asked me to come. I’ll, ah, wait in the study,” Azriel said, and disappeared round the corner. Feyre headed back up the stairs, where Rhys was walking out of their room towelling his hair off. Still naked and steaming from the bath. Feyre’s eyes followed the contours of his abs.

“See something you like, Feyre darling?” Rhys grinned, disappearing the towel with magic.

“Ah…” Feyre stuttered, forgetting what she was supposed to tell him. Gods, he really was a beautiful male. Rhys’s smile turned feline as he stalked toward her. Feyre stepped back as he approached, still watching the muscles shift under his tattoos. He walked her back out to the landing, and leaned her against the bannister as he bent to circle his arms around her waist.

“Cat got your tongue?” he whispered. He was so incredibly warm around her, and Feyre let her head fall back as he kissed under her ear. She struggled to remember what she came to get Rhys for.

“Oh!” she put her hands on his biceps. “Azriel…”

Rhys’s head snapped up, and his eyes were ablaze.

“Azriel?” he demanded. Before she could explain, Rhys had spun her around so fast her hands caught the bannister as she fell forward. He yanked her hips back and threw the edge of her skirt up. “I don’t want to hear another male’s name on your lips, not now and not ever,” he growled in her ear. And then he smacked her lightly across the ass. “Okay?”

Feyre was going to laugh it off and explain, but then something unfurled in her chest. “Do that again,” she breathed.

“What?” Rhys asked, dangerously low. “This?” He smacked her again, a little harder this time. Feyre’s eyes went wide, and to her surprise, heat gathered between her legs. Rhys saw it all, and a very slow, very wicked grin spread across his face.

“Do you like to be spanked, my love?” he asked. Feyre didn’t know how to answer. Rhys pushed her underwear up to expose her backside, and smoothed his hand over it. And then landed a tight slap on her bare skin.

“Oh,” Feyre gasped, arching her back. Rhys pulled her hips back further, rubbing his now hard cock against her from behind. Feyre gripped the railing more tightly, and completely forgot about the spymaster in the study. “More,” she breathed.

“You want more?” Rhys echoed. He spanked her again, and she moaned. “Is this what you were looking for?” He pushed the rest of her skirt up her back and smacked the other side of her ass. “Is this why you’re being so cruel to me,” spank, “coming to me with another male’s name in your mouth,” spank, “looking for punishment?” He yanked her underwear down so it dropped around her ankles, and landed another three slaps, each harder than the one before. Feyre cried out again and again, and was getting so wet she knew he could smell her.

“Spread your legs, darling,” he instructed her. Feyre stepped out of her underwear and leaned her forearms against the bannister. Rhys spanked her again without warning and her eyes watered.

"Oh!"

“Wider,” he snarled. Feyre obeyed, widening her stance. Rhys rubbed his hands gently over her stinging skin, and then his cock was nudging at her entrance.

“Good girl,” he crooned, and then he spanked her one more time and when she yelled out he threaded his fingers through her hair and plunged inside her.

Rhys fucked her hard, bent over the railing, tugging her head back by the hair while his free hand worked her clit. The now sensitive and reddened skin of her ass bounced against the tops of his thighs, and when her knees started to buckle Rhys let go of her hair to wrap an arm around her waist to hold her up. Every physical sensation seemed heightened unbearably, and Feyre screamed as she came.

“Who’s name, Feyre?” he asked her. “Who’s name belongs in your mouth?”

“Yours,” she gasped between spasms.

“Say it,” Rhys bit out.

“Rhys,” Feyre said. “Rhys, Rhys, oh fuck, Rhys,” and the last one drawn out in a moan. The sound of it had Rhys coming hard as she was, and she didn’t come down until he had emptied himself inside her and his forehead was damp on her back. Feyre tried to move but felt like a new foal. Rhys laughed softly and carried her back to their room in his arms.

He lay her down very gently, and pulled the blanket over her before softly stroking her hair.

“I didn’t know that about you,” he said quietly.

“What?” Feyre asked, luxuriating in his wandering touch. A laughing edge came into his voice.

“That you were such a glutton for punishment.”

Feyre blushed, and Rhys pressed his lips to her forehead. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “Half the fun of being wicked is getting to take care of you afterward.” Feyre smiled.

“I like the sound of that,” she said.

“And I quite like teaching you not to talk about other males in front of me.”

Feyre’s eyes flew open. “Oh!” she said, sitting up. “I was supposed to tell you that Azriel is here and waiting for you in the study!”

They stared at each other for a second, and the burst out laughing. Feyre covered her face in her hands, suddenly remembering the wanton sounds she had been making minutes ago and how clearly Azriel must have heard them all. Rhys peppered kisses over her cheek, and jaw, and neck, and then rolled out of bed, pulling trousers on before going downstairs to see if the Shadowsinger had stuck around.

He had not.

****

Liz asked for spanking ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @positivewitch @thalia-2-rose @darling-archeron @rapunzel1523 @fairchildjace @philosophorumaurum02 @story-scribbler @allthecolorsneverseen @asteria-of-mars @fandomstalker27 @realbookloverproblems

[fific7]

That Swept-Back Hair

Billy Russo x Reader

@omgrachwrites 500 Follower Celebration

AU Prompt: Friends with Benefits

Summary: How will Billy Russo react when his FWB finds another lover? Bearing in mind that he’s a complete hypocrite.

Warnings: Swearing, jealousy, fluff with mentions of sex.

A/N: Loosely based on S1 Billy, it’s non-canon & set in my imaginary Punisher universe.

(My GIF)

»»———————————————　⚜　———————-————————-««

Your phone was jumping like a jack-in-the-box on your bedside table, the blue light of the screen illuminating the wall behind it every few seconds.

You rolled over with a groan, taking a moment before picking it up and looking at it. Of course it was Billy Russo, who else would it be at 1 AM on a Saturday morning?

The guy next to you in the bed also rolled over, covering his mouth as he yawned, eyes half-open.

“Everything OK, Y/N?” he asked.

“Yeah, Raf, just a needy friend.... gonna call them back, so do you mind staying hush-hush for the next few minutes?”

He yawned massively again, speaking through it, “Ahhhhrrrrr...yeah... no problem...”

You hit the ‘Favourites’ star next to Billy’s name in your contacts, hearing it start ringing.

It went to voicemail so you hung up, slid the phone onto the table and threw your head back down onto your pillow. Fucking Russo. Blows up your phone with missed calls & “Pick up!!” texts then doesn’t answer when you call back.

It rang two seconds later, just as Raf had turned towards you, opening his mouth to no doubt ask you about your ‘needy friend’. You rolled your eyes and grabbed it, but the screen went dark just as you did so.

You hit redial, it rang out, went to voicemail. “Fuck!” you ground out between your teeth.

Your head had touched your pillow again for about 5 minutes, when there was a staccato series of knocks on your apartment door.

You shot up in bed, quivering - ah hell, it couldn’t be, could it? Really?

Raf had dozed back off in the meantime & didn’t even stir when the knocks rang out sharply in the quiet apartment. Not much of a guard dog, you thought, quickly throwing on your discarded PJs.

You padded barefoot over to the front door, confirming via the peephole that Billy Russo was indeed outside in the hallway, leaning on your doorframe so he could place one eye right to it. You spotted an eyebrow wiggle as you made eye contact. Oh holy hell!

You straightened your shoulders, took the chain off and unlocked the door, swinging it open.

“Billy!” you said quietly, with a small smile, “What brings you here?” You hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him for about three weeks. Not that that was anything new.

He moved gracefully past you like the panther he was, even though you’d been trying to subtly block him from coming in. He was dressed in one of his sharp suits, so you guessed he’d been at one of the never-ending stream of events he attended.

Your mouth drew into a line. Whoever he’d gone there with must have bucked the trend and bailed on him. Otherwise he wouldn’t have turned up at your place when, in his mind, the night was still young.

He turned towards you, placing both hands on your hips as he did so, pulling you up against his muscled chest.

“Now, Y/N, why do you think I’m here, holding my best girl in my arms?” the New York accented voice purred in your ear.

He leant in and kissed you hungrily, deepening the kiss immediately to a passionate one.

You pulled away, escaping his grasp. His eyes widened in surprise, a small frown making its way onto his brow. A few locks of his dark hair had fallen forward onto his brow and he swept them back up with his fingers, a reflexive gesture for him.

“I tried to call you back,” you mumbled, “I’ve... uh... got a friend staying with me at the moment.”

He shot his trademark smirk at you. “Hey, that’s OK. We can be quiet for once, yeah?” Grinning now.

In true romcom fashion, Raf picked that moment to come wandering into the lounge, clad only in his boxers, both hands ruffling through his short hair.

Billy’s mouth dropped open. He made a quick recovery, though. Gestured with a thumb.

“So... this your ‘friend’?”

He looked Raf up and down. He was a 6 feet 3 firefighter with the FDNY, and to put it mildly, he was ripped.

He topped Billy by a couple of inches, and by a few pounds. Billy scowled at him.

Raf eyed up Billy too, turning to you and asking, “This your ‘needy friend’ you were talkin’ ‘bout, Y/N?”

Oh crap.

Billy’s scowl turned to a furious glare, aimed right at you. “Needy?!! Ah, fuck this, Y/N! I think we all know who’s needy around here.”

Your mouth rounded into an offended O, but before you could reply, Billy was out the door and it slammed loudly behind him.

Great - now all your neighbours were gonna be mad at you too.

»»———————————————-　⚜　-———-———————————-««

You had then spent an uncomfortable half hour over a coffee with Raf, explaining the dynamics of your non-relationship with Billy.

“Now,” he’d said, brow furrowed, “let me get this straight. He’s part of your friend group, you see him every so often at a bar or at one of their places - but never his. He sees tons of other women but turns up here for booty calls whenever his busy schedule allows?”

He shook his head. “He’s using you, Y/N. What a selfish prick.”

You bristled, “Look, we go back quite a ways. Since he was in the Marines. I knew Frank first as we were neighbours when we were kids, and I eventually met Billy through him. He’s Frankie’s best friend, they’re Marine brothers.”

“And how long have you been ‘friends with benefits’?”

You muttered your response. “Sorry, what was that you said?” he asked.

“Three years,” you repeated reluctantly.

“Damn.” he said. “And what am I, exactly? Filler for whenever fuckboy isn’t calling?”

“No! Raf, you’re a really nice guy, and I love spending time with you.”

He stood up, heading to the bedroom. “Look, I’m gonna go. I need a few days to try and get my head round your fucked-up relationship with the suit-wearing Marine.”

He’d left shortly afterwards, saying he’d call. You weren’t sure that he would.

You met up with Karen for lunch later that day. You’d been co-workers first off, then had become good friends. She was currently dating Frank, your childhood friend.

You were so glad that he was back out socialising, in a small way, after losing his wife and kids in a brutal gang clash just over a year before. They and several others had been what the papers described, rather callously, as “collateral damage” while minding their own business in the public park the gun fight took place in.

Frank had understandably closed himself off to a large extent as he grieved and after a decent interval, you’d tried your best to draw him back out in a gentle way. You’d decided to indulge in a bit of Matchmaking Lite, and had invited Karen along to a night out with the rest of your friends. You knew Frank would be there and as you’d hoped, they hit it off right away.

You spilled what had happened the night before to her, grateful for a shoulder to cry on. She looked and sounded sympathetic, but you knew she wasn’t a big fan of your arrangement with Billy. She again voiced her astonishment that you still had it going on with him.

“Karen, without making you vomit by sharing too many details, Billy is just the absolute best in bed. He’s got the stamina of an ox. Several oxes, in fact.” You just knew your eyes had a faraway look in them.

Her mouth pursed in a ‘moux’ of distaste. “But still, Y/N, he’s just so damn selfish about it! It’s all on his terms.”

“You know he’s got commitment issues.”

She choked on her espresso martini. “Ya don’t say!!”

“It’s complicated.”

“Look, honey, I’m gonna be straight with you. It is anything but complicated. He spends 90% of his time at Anvil, 9.9% with other gals, and guess who gets the remaining measly 0.1%, the crumbs from his table?” She pointed her finger straight at you. “Coconut for the lady over there!”

You sat in silence for several minutes, turning over in your mind what Raf, and now Karen, had said to you. Eventually you nodded slowly. “You know what, Kar, you’re totally right. I just let the great sex blind me to all the rest of his fucking bullshit.”

Time to cut Billy loose.

Not that you ever had him tied down in the first place. If you were being brutally honest.

And you weren’t sure whether he’d even bother showing up at your place ever again.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next day being Sunday meant that some serious ‘Me Time’ was in order.

Sitting on the sofa, you stared off into space, thinking about the two men in your life. You huffed to yourself; you hadn’t heard from either of them so far, and that was probably for the best. You could do without being stuck in the middle of some kind of testosterone-fuelled conflict between the two of them.

Then you laughed out loud at yourself. Who were you kidding? You’d probably never see either of them again! You stood up, stretching out your shoulder and neck muscles. Time for a bit of self-pampering.

You had a long relaxing bath, gave yourself a leisurely mani-pedi, ordered in some pizza, and began to go through some layouts for work the next day.

You were a digital content editor at the newspaper both you & Karen worked for. It was okay as jobs went, but it didn’t set your world on fire. However, what did excite you was that the newspaper’s parent publishing house was about to launch a travel magazine, and you’d applied for a transfer.

What really made butterflies pop up into your stomach, though, was the fact that the magazine’s content editors would also be contributing instead of just collating. You’d already had an interview with the Editor in Chief, and should be hearing back within the next few days.

If someone else got that position you’d applied for, you’d just have to shove them out of your third floor office window at the very first opportunity.

While you were thinking of potentially becoming a murderer, there was a familiar pattern of raps at your door. Your heart sank straight through your boots.

You knew it was Billy before you opened the door. It sounded ridiculous but he had a certain way of knocking. Peremptory, demanding, with military precision.

He stood outside your door, tensed up and rigid, with a carefully blank look on his face.

“You alone?” he barked, by way of greeting.

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “Why, hello Billy. How are you? I’m fine, Y/N, how are you? Yeah, I’m great.”

He glared right back. “I asked if you were alone.”

“That’s highly unlikely, Billy, seeing as how I’m so needy!”

He huffed and marched inside straight to the sofa, sitting down and leaning his arms on his spread-apart thighs. He clasped his hands together, letting them dangle loosely between his knees.

“You said I was needy first.” Sulky face.

“Hey, are we back in school or something?”

He looked up at you, dark eyes staring into yours intensely. “Why d’you get with another guy, Y/N?”

Straight to the point, then. OK, you were going to return the favour.

“What, I’m not allowed to have a life? D’you think I’m going to just sit around, waiting to gratefully receive 5 minutes of your attention every few weeks? Like some kind of fucktoy, to be picked up and dropped at will? Seriously?”

He clenched his fingers until the joints went white. “I thought you were happy with the way things are between us!!?... our... our arrangement. You’re important to me. And you know I care about you!” Not meeting your eyes at this last comment.

“Huh!!!” You leant against your kitchen island, you weren’t going to get into Billy’s orbit. Too risky.

“So important that you spend all your time at work, while bedding half of Manhattan? Leaving me with the crumbs from your table, as someone put it recently.”

He shot up from the sofa, fury in his eyes. “Who fuckin’ said that?!”

You shrugged, “It’s not important. What is important is that our arrangement, as you call it, is over. Since you put it in such business-like terms, think of it as a contract which has been terminated.”

Billy stalked across the room until he was an inch away from you, eyes boring into yours. “No.”

You laughed in disbelief, eyebrows arching. “You think that just cos you say ‘No’ it’s not gonna happen? Because no-one ever says no to Billy Russo, is that it?”

He grabbed you, lips finding yours in a ferocious kiss. One hand crept up the nape of your neck, his fingers running through your hair, while the other hand pulled your hips to his. He had an impressive erection. You gasped as you felt the pressure of it against you, but pushed him away, escaping to the other side of the kitchen island.

“Just go, Billy. Please.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed, those dark pools of his looking suspiciously glossy. Was he...? No way.

Billy turned on his heel and slammed out of your apartment. Again.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy knocked his beer bottle off the table with his elbow, as he leant forward to drunkenly wave a finger in his friend’s face. Luckily, it fell onto the grassy verge below, rather than the decked patio they were sitting on in Frank’s back garden.

Frank grabbed his finger. “Russo!!! Chill out, man.”

“She tol’ me... t’go, Frankie, I was kissin’ her an’ she jus’ said Go!” slurred Billy. Frank squeezed his eyes shut at the whiny tone then looked back at him.

“Bill! We all warned you she wouldn’t put up with your bullshit forever. You should’ve known this was comin’ bud.”

“Bu’ I... I... love her,” he blurted, then stared at Frank, eyes wide, part horrified, part terrified.

“Got a strange way of showin’ it, Bill. Picking other women over her, until you decide it’s time to hook up. Surprised she’s stood for it so long!”

Billy swayed slightly in his garden chair, just staring back at him, nodding repetitively like a bobble head every so often.

“I gotta get her back, Frankie.”

“Whooo,” Frank huffed out a big breath, “well, ya always did like to choose the impossible missions, Russo.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were beginning to understand what having a stalker was like.

When you left work the following day, the first person you spotted on the sidewalk outside your office building was Billy Russo.

You hesitated, shocked, then nodded and said quietly, “Hi Billy,” before continuing your short walk to the subway.

He fell into step alongside you. “M’gonna show you just how much I care about you,” you heard, then he was gone. Just gone, into the crowd of commuters around you.

That was just the beginning. Every morning, one single rose of the palest pearly pink would be delivered to your office, laying in a swirl of black chiffon within a silver gift box.

Texts would drop into your phone at unexpected hours. “Please forgive me. Let me back into your life. I love you, Y/N.”

The first time you saw those words, you nearly dropped your phone. What the....?

Gourmet meals and bottles of rosé prosecco would be delivered to your door, precisely 30 minutes after you’d get home. Was he watching you or something? A little shiver ran up your spine. He was still a sniper, after all.

You would catch glimpses of Billy when you left the office, and outside your apartment. Without a shadow of a doubt, he meant you to see him, he would never be so visible on a real surveillance job. But he didn’t ever approach you.

Then you got your dream job. You, Karen and a bunch of your colleagues went to your regular bar after work for a quick celebration. There was a toast proposed to your new job at one point, and one of your male colleagues grabbed you in a friendly bear hug after they’d all shouted “Cheers!”

You were looking past his arm as he hugged you, and found yourself staring into Billy Russo’s dark eyes. Casually dressed, he was leaning on a high table near the door, a beer in front of him.

Billy lazily pushed back from his table, strode over to you, swiped you out of the guy’s arms, wrapped his own arms round you and planted a kiss on your temple, with a nonchalant, “Hi, sweetheart.”

Karen, who had heard all about your last encounter with Billy, looked thunderstruck. You’d be getting interrogated later, that was for sure.

He, meanwhile, landed another kiss right next to your lips and said, “See you later at home,” giving you a quick squeeze before walking off.

Your female colleagues meanwhile were swooning over Billy, one of them commenting that she wasn’t surprised you’d kept so damn quiet about your hot boyfriend. You gave Karen a meaningful look and just smiled back at them all, neither confirming nor denying anything.

However the feeling of Billy’s body against yours, the delicious smell of him, his lips on your skin, had set your heart racing at a dangerous speed. You really did try to push those thoughts aside.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Flopping down onto your sofa when you got home, you laid your head back on it and thought about that evening. As expected, Karen had questioned you ruthlessly as you left the bar together, like the perceptive investigative reporter she was.

Talking as you walked to the subway, you’d given her every detail of all the deliveries, glimpses of him and texts you’d received in the last few days. Karen had stopped walking, looking at you in surprise. “Y/N, why didn’t you tell me about all of this before now? Hell, Frank told me he had some crazy plan to win you back, but I never really thought...” her voice trailed off.

“Is it working?” she asked next. “Mmmm, yes and no, to be honest,” you said. “Don’t let it!” she said firmly, “This is what he should have been doing all along, instead of treating you like a total afterthought.”

You nodded, “Can’t argue with ya on that,” you agreed. “Is he going to turn up at your place, d’you think?” she asked. “Wouldn’t be surprised,” you laughed, “I think that was Billy giving me a heads-up.”

So as you’d been 90% expecting, the familiar knock at the door came about 15 minutes after you’d got back. You got up and after checking the peephole, sighed and opened it. “Hi, Billy.”

This was like déjà vu. Billy brushed past you and sat himself down on the sofa, in the same pose as the last time. Head down, hair falling forward and hiding his eyes from you. This time, you bit the bullet and sat at the opposite end, leaning against the armrest so you were facing him.

“Well, Billy.... leaving aside the stalkerish overtones, I guess I should thank you for the roses, gourmet meals and prosecco.”

He swung his head towards you, eyes wide. “They were just to get your attention. Frankie told me it’s what I shoulda been doin’ anyway, all along.”

You nodded, “Yeah, he’s not wrong.”

Billy heaved out a big sigh, head dropping. “I know I’ve been a complete shit to you, Y/N. Took you for granted.” He met your eyes again, “Truth is, I was fallin’ in love with you, and I really didn’t know how to handle it. I thought it was... just sex to you, so I... I was a coward and tried to ignore it, and acted like I didn’t give a shit about you. I just couldn’t have you kick me to the curb if I told you how I felt.”

You were genuinely shocked - Billy had never talked about his feelings before. You’d accepted this in the past, telling yourself it was due to his upbringing in the system.

“So you meant what you said in your daily texts, then?”

He nodded, still looking straight at you, “Yeah...I meant it, I do love you, Y/N.” Then he quickly looked down again.

Before you could stop yourself, you’d leant along the sofa and your fingers were pushing that silky hair off his forehead. He looked up at you, taking hold of your wrist and kissing your pulse point softly. You stood up, saying “C’mere, you,” and took hold of his hand, pulling him up along with you.

He put his arms round you, burying his face into your hair and just holding you. “I’ve missed you,” he mumbled. You laughed, “What?! Even though you hadn’t seen me for weeks before the night you landed on my doorstep?!”

“I know, I know, you don’t need to remind me I’ve been a complete prick. I’ll be honest, I think it took me seein’ you with that guy, and him actin’ like you were his, to give me that kick up the ass I needed.” The dark eyes looked down at you, and he sniffed, “He still around?” You shook your head.

“Nah. I think he thought I was completely insane for still being with you.”

Billy laughed, “Maybe he’s right....” he looked at you, serious again. “You willin’ to give me another chance, Y/N? I promise you I’ll do it right this time. The whole dating thing, asking you to be my girlfriend after three dates, all that stuff... everything.”

“Everything? Like, what if I say no sex to start with? And no running off to other women to scratch that itch? You’ll swear to all that? Really?!”

“I swear to you, on my Ka-Bar.”

“Wow,” you said, knowing that the knife was never out of Billy’s possession. It was an integral part of him. Maybe he was serious after all.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A small kiss on your cheek woke you the next morning. Those eyes, those dark liquid pools, stared into yours, while a thumb ran over your cheek. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” smiling down at you. Reaching up, you ran your fingers into his hair, moving it off his forehead. “Morning, sweetheart,” you echoed, smiling back.

You and Billy had shared a bed but nothing else, except hugs and hand-holding. You were in your PJ’s - well, camisole top with matching shorts - and all Billy had on were his boxer briefs. You couldn’t deny you’d had thoughts of just leaping on him during the night... let’s face it, he was one hot dude. And he knew how to ‘look after’ a woman in bed, as he himself put it.

But no, you were determined he was gonna have to work for it, just like he promised he would. So you’d had to show some self-discipline, well, a lot of it, actually. He’d passed the first test - he’d actually stayed all night. Usually he was gone before the morning light stole through the curtains.

Now, he kissed your bare shoulder and leapt out of bed, like he was back in the Marines. He stood still for a moment, sideways next to the bed, having a leisurely full body stretch. Billy knew full well you’d be totally enjoying the view. A little tease from him to remind you what you were missing.

The sunlight, which stole through a small gap between your curtains in the otherwise dim room, picked out the sculpted muscles on his back & torso. Then he turned slightly more, ensuring you wouldn’t miss seeing the hard-on he was currently sporting. You shook your head, with a slight smile on your lips. The cocky big bastard.

“Where you off to, Billy?” you asked, thinking to yourself, if he’s headed to Anvil, he can fucking shove his second cha......

“I’m gonna make my beautiful almost-girlfriend a cup of good Italian coffee.”

You smiled at his departing back as he disappeared out of the bedroom. “Oh, Billy?”

His voice drifted back through from the kitchen, “Yeah, darlin’?”

“Can I please get some toast with that, too?”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

You stretched luxuriously, nestling your head into your pillows.

Looked like you were going to find out what having a panther on a leash was like.

[itstheoneshot]

Scenario: Coming out as trans to your EXO member boyfriend.

Request.

Part 1.

Part 2 here!

Xiumin:

Minseok lifts his gaze to meet yours, looking away from the food that you had made for him to repeat your words back to you.

“You’re trans?” He asks.

“Mhmm...” You reply, staring intently as you try to gauge his reaction.

Minseok nods his head absentmindedly, lost in thought, until he looks as if a lightbulb has gone off in his mind.

“Baby, does that mean you’re gonna call me hyung now?” He asks.

This has you laughing, though Minseok looks unsure whether to laugh along, too. You take his hand in yours, and kiss his fingertips one by one, until you are ready to speak again.

“Seokkie, when did I ever call you oppa anyway?” You giggle, “You’re still my Jagiya.”

Luhan:

It took Luhan a little while to come around to the idea, not fully grasping it at first, he had so many questions, but was afraid that he was being intrusive by asking them. This morning you had told him that you were hoping to start Testosterone shots, and now he only had more that he wanted to know.

“Tián xīn, you look confused. What’s up?” You ask him.

His eyes light up as you call to him, and you smile, assuring him that it is okay to ask whatever is on his mind.

“Your voice is going to break, isn’t it?” He queries.

“It will.” You reply, “And I’m a little afraid that I won’t be able to sing anymore.”

“We can find you a singing trainer to help!” He replies enthusiastically, “But, I am going to be so jealous if your voice ends up deeper than mine.”

Kris:

“Yifan, I’m trans”

You were laying in bed on a Sunday morning, neither of you wanting to get up, when you rolled over to face Yifan and decided now was the right time to spill your biggest secret.

Yifan is quiet for a moment, as he processes your words, he sits up and pulls you onto his lap to join him, so that he can look you in the eyes, he can see tears welling in them as you are so afraid of his reaction.

“Baby, it’s okay.” He replies, brushing your cheek with his fingertips, “Do you have any idea what kind of changes you want to make?”

“I want top surgery,” You start, before nervously asking “Are you still going to love me?”

Yifan chuckles at this, grabbing you under the thighs to pull you closer to him. His hands slide from your thighs, to cup your ass instead as he leans forward to kiss you.

“Of course, I love you for you, and want you to be happy.” He says, laughing before continuing, “And, you know I’m an ass man, anyway.”

Suho:

You had brought a book home, in hopes of getting Junmyeon to understand. You knew that he would be able to grasp the concept of binary transgender, like male to female, or vice versa, but you are nonbinary, and you thought he might struggle.

“Jun, I am not a woman, or a man. I’m like... somewhere in the middle.” You attempt to explain.

Jun furrows his brows, and pouts his lips in thought, you can tell that he is trying his hardest to follow along. Though you know that you are the first nonbinary person he has met, so you can only imagine how confusing this must be for him, hell, it has been confusing enough for you to understand your own gender.

“Are you upset?” You ask him.

“What? No! I’m just, I am confused, but... you’re still my baby... person?” He replies.

You laugh at this, having been called ‘his baby girl’ for so long, his attempt to be supportive has you melting.

“Just baby is fine, Myeonnie.”

Lay:

When you told Yixing that you were transgender, he was a little confused at first. You had struggled to find the words to explain it to him in Mandarin, so he had pulled out his phone to research and understand what you were telling him.

“So... you are really a man?” He asks, his tone sincere, with genuine curiosity.

“I am, is that... okay with you?” You ask.

“Yes, of course!” He replies, eyes widening as he is shocked by your fear of him not being alright with your true self.

“You are still going to love me all the same though, right?” He asks, pulling back so that he can make eye contact.

“Yes, Yixing, as long as you’ll love me the same, too.” You reply.

Yixing smiles at you, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead.

“I can’t believe I have a boyfriend now, and the hottest one ever.” He sighs in content.

Baekhyun:

Baekhyun almost burst into tears when you had come out to him. He had noticed your drastic shift in mood over the last few weeks, as you had so badly wanted to tell him, but your anxiety had gotten the better of you, convincing yourself that he would leave the second he found out that you were going to medically transition into the gender you were.

“Oh, really?! That’s great, Jagiya! Wait, is Jagiya still okay to use? It’s gender neutral right? Is there something else you would rather I called you?” He asks question after question.

“Jagiya is fine, Baek!” You say, as he pulls you in to rest your head on his chest.

“I’m proud of you, Jagi. This must have been a really hard thing to deal with alone for so long, but I am here now, and I love you, so what’s first?” He asks.

“First... new wardrobe, and haircut.” You reply, pondering just how much you want to change.

“Great! I need a haircut too, let’s go together.” Baekhyun responds, “But we can’t have matching haircuts, as much as I’m sure you want to look just like me.”

Part 2!

[draconica]

Oooo, for the writing prompt, a little 7+4+1? Or just one, I might be a little greedy 😖🤣

7: Engagement sex 4: Petnames 1: Spicing things up in the bedroom

I made it work, anon   ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

I also headcanon Ellis can be a powerbottom so enjoy that

When Ellis returned home from the shop one warm evening, he was humming softly to himself. There was a sly smile to his features as he gently jostled the plastic bag he had brought home. There was no groceries or anything that mundane inside. No, there was something very special inside of this particular carrier.

“Niiick?” he crooned in the hope that his boyfriend was home, and in the mood. Now, he was home, but as Ellis turned the corner into the living room he was met with a sight he wasn't quite expecting to see.

Nick was stood in a black suit - a proper, swanky, three-piece number – and holding a red rose. A soft song was playing on their stereo system, and the lights were turned down low. He had definitely been stood here for some time, waiting for Ellis to return home, and Ellis dropped his smile briefly. The gambler was smooth as silk at the best of times, but this was unexpected.

“Welcome home, sweet peach,” Nick led with, making Ellis blush – that damn pet name of his. “You good?”

Ellis scratched the back of his neck. “Uh, I'm jus' fine,” he smiled, setting down his bag for now, and gesturing to Nick as he took a step towards him. “What's this for?”

In a second, Nick's smile slipped a little, arching his brow. “...You forgot, didn't you?” He rolled his eyes, but that smile soon came right back as he stepped forward also, closing the gap between them and offering him the rose. “July 12th? The day we got out of quarantine?” Nick chuckled, leaning in closer and making it more personal. “The day we moved in together, made the new place official?”

A million thoughts swarmed Ellis's head at that point, taking the rose and knowing he was absolutely overcome with blushes. “O-oh… damn, I guess I did forget,” he giggled, tilting his head a little as his boyfriend leered closer. Even now, Nick was still the most damn attractive man he'd ever met, let alone dated. “M'sorry, darlin', just had a lot on my mind, I guess?” he shrugged.

Nick seemed to understand, nodding once before pulling Ellis in for a kiss. “It's all good, sport. You can make it up to me later. But for now...” he turned and clicked a remote in love control, turning down the music a touch, before his hand returned to where it belonged – holding his lover's.

“Ellis,” he began, looking down at his thumb caressing the back of El's hand. “It's been a hell of a ride to get here, huh? Fighting for our lives every day in the apocalypse, a year of quarantine, and now three years of living together. Before the Green Flu, I was at my lowest point. I… well, wouldn't be alive if I hadn't met you. The zombies were a distraction, but you were a reason to live. You mean the Goddamn world to me, Fireball, and I want to spend every day by your side. So… I have one question for you.” Ellis watched on, mouth dropping, as his boyfriend got down on one knee and produced a velvet box containing a thick silver ring. In the center, there was set a dark blue gemstone. “Ellis, mi tesoro, will you marry me?”

Needless to say, Ellis had not been expecting this today, and that was obvious given the absolute astonishment on his face at that moment. It almost made Nick want to laugh, but he was slightly too nervous for that.

Thankfully, Ellis broke into his lop-sided, brilliant Southern smile. “You sly sumbitch,” he chuckled. “Hell yeah, I'll marry ya!”

The gambler got to his feet, immediately bringing his lover closer into his arms with an unbreakable smile. The ring was a perfect fit onto Ellis's fourth finger, something else that Nick had been worried about, but seeing how snugly it sat made the older man's heart swell. “I love you, Overalls.”

“Love you, too, darlin',” Ellis responded as he brought Nick's face in for a kiss... and then another... and then his arms were around Nick's neck. Any distance between them was suddenly gone.

It wasn't unusual for their kisses to get out of hand, certainly in their earlier days where it seemed like sex was on the table every day (not literally, except for a few times Ellis can remember where they'd gotten adventurous…). That's when Ellis remembered what was in the bag he had brought home. Well, now he had no choice but to surprise his lover with its contents.

By now, Nick's kisses had moved to the mechanic's neck, and Ellis couldn't suppress a shiver as he found his favorite spot just below his ear. Many a hickey had been placed there before, and it was near-enough a certainty that he'd be getting a new one tonight.

“Nick,” he whispered, shifting his hand through the hustler's hair and smiling when he caught sight of the shiny new engagement ring on his finger. “Take me to the bedroom.”

“Oh, sweetheart,” Nick chuckled before tightening his grip around Ellis's waist and hoisting him up, causing the younger man to gasp against his lips. “You don't have to tell me twice.”

Of course, Nick couldn't possibly carry Ellis up a whole staircase and into said bedroom. He wasn't a young man anymore, after all. Not that Ellis minded – it actually gave him a chance to grab the bag he'd brought home. Nick gave him an odd look as he did so, but his young fiancé had simply smiled, told him not to worry about it with a pat to the cheek.

Once they both stepped into the bedroom together, Ellis set the bag down once more and brought Nick into more kisses, having missed them in the thirty seconds they had stopped.

“How long were ya plannin' that for?” asked Ellis curiously as he slipped the black tie from Nick's neck, smiling at him.

Nick shrugged a little. “Few months,” he admitted. “Knew I wanted to marry you someday, seemed like the anniversary of getting out of that Goddamn pandemic was a good time.”

Ellis was now working on those pesky shirt buttons, granting him access to that chest hair he loved so much on Nick. “Romantic as usual,” he mused. “Gotta be honest… I was plannin' a lil' somethin' for us tonight, too. Nothin' big like askin' ya to marry me, so kinda puts my gesture in the shade.”

“Don't be modest, sweet peach,” Nick chuckled, allowing Ellis to remove his suit jacket and leave it on the floor – something he usually gets very picky about.

“Well...” Ellis slipped Nick's belt from his pants, and was pleased at the choice his lover had made – a black leather strap. Yes, this'll do nicely. “I know you like bein' in control 'n all, but I wanna show ya how we ride in the South.”

That piqued the gambler's interest, not in the least because Ellis was looping the belt around his hand, pulling it taught for Nick to see, and something about the sight was enough to set his erection at full mast.

“Ace...” he paused, needing to wet his lips when he found his mouth suddenly dry. “Do I get a say in this?”

“You certainly get to pick the safe word,” mused the mechanic, shifting his weight slightly on his hips as he played with the leather strap some more.

Nick must've been mad, or at least deeply in love, as he decided to shift control over to his little fiancé for the night. “All right,” he conceded, stepping out of his pants which, with lack of support, had pooled onto the floor. “Where do you want me, sugar?”

The mechanic's grin spread further up his cheeks. He led Nick over to their king-sized bed and sat him down. “Now, you go ahead and make yourself comfortable, mister gamblin' man, and I'll go slip outta these here greasy clothes.” With a little canter to his steps, he grabbed the bag once more and headed to their en-suite bathroom, shooting a look over his shoulder. “Recommend losing those there briefs, too. Won't be needin' them at the rodeo.” And with that, he disappeared into the next room, door shutting slowly behind him.

Nick had always been good at following instructions, and Ellis's were about as subtle as a sledgehammer to the face. So, as he stripped himself down completely and got comfortable, he took the time while Ellis was gone to think about some of the more memorable trysts in their relationship.

There was the very first time which had been during the apocalypse. It had been rough and hurried, considering they had just escaped death by the skin of their teeth, and it was more a carnal desire of the most basic of human instincts. Ellis had almost alerted a horde with how loud he'd been.

There was another time, during quarantine, where love had for the first time been entered into the equation. Namely, the first time they had said 'I love you' to each other. Nick had topped then, too. And he wasn't a picky partner by any means – after all, Ellis was young and full of testosterone, and sometimes he needed to fuck just as much as anyone else. Nick had come to enjoy bottoming, absolutely, but he was more or less the one in charge on most nights. Ellis never complained; quite the opposite, in fact. Nick was still lost in thought when suddenly the bathroom door opened at last, revealing Ellis in his attire for the evening: Nothing but a cowboy hat (and one engagement ring).

“Howdy,” he drawled as he leant against the door frame, still playing with Nick's belt in his hands. “Heard there was a no-good city slicker that I needed to take good care of. Assumin' that's you, handsome?”

Nick couldn't' help but smirk up at him, raising an eyebrow. Ellis was unbelievably adorable, especially whenever he was making effort to please him. That included… this. “Goddamn it, Ace,” he shook his head. “Didn't think this was how my night was gonna go.”

Ellis shot him an amused look, then slipped right back into character. “I'm the best darn rodeo rider this side'a Georgia,” he boasted, sauntering closer to the bed. “Ain't no wild stallion I can't tame. So, reck'n you'll be my best ride yet.” The mechanic reached into the bedside drawer to fetch the lube, and took a moment to stand beside the bed, looking over his naked lover. “Safe word?” he asked.

Nick nodded up at him. “Witch.”

Ellis frowned. “Damn, Nick, really? All the words in the entire American language and you had to pick one that reminds me of the time you almost got yourself killed?”

“You almost got me killed,” retorted the hustler, squinting at him. “You're the one who spooked the bitch.” But he shook his head, letting a smile return to his red face. “Fine. Safe word is 'wedding'.”

With a roll of his eyes, Ellis blushed a little as he set the lube down on the table for now. “Good 'nough for me.” Slipping back into character once more, the Southerner crawled his way onto the bed and straddled his lover, halfway up his chest, at one point his erection bobbing near Nick's face. The gambler just watched on with hungry eyes. “Now then… one thing I know about tamin' the wilder beasts is that they need to be trained, sometimes with force.” Ellis looped the leather belt around Nick's neck gently, watching the older's green eyes for any signs of discomfort or fear. There was nothing but trust, and a lot of hunger.

Ellis cinched the belt, not tightly, but enough for Nick to feel the presence of his around his throat. With a twist of his hand, Ellis curled the leather around his wrist and tested the length. There was plenty to work with, and he grinned. “Damn, look at'chu, city boy.” Ellis backed up his hips, grinding himself backwards onto Nick's cock, and watching in triumph as Nick's eyelids fluttered slightly. “I think I'm gonna really enjoy ridin' you.”

The helpless gambler chuckled as he rested his hands on Ellis's thighs, watching those hips move back and forth and craning his neck back a little. A moan almost made it's way out of his mouth, but not quite. Ellis had to try harder. “You're getting more into the kinky sex, Overalls,” he smiled, throwing in a wink. “I'll take credit for that.”

With a tilt of his head, Ellis's hand pulled back, tightening the belt a little like pulling on the leash of a disobedient dog. Nick gasped beneath him, moaning in the afterthought, which made the cowboy grin. “You speak outta turn like that again and you'll be in the doghouse,” he threatened. Reaching over to the nightstand, he took the open tube of lubricant and squirted the thick liquid onto two fingers. The look in his baby blue eyes was so very kinky, and Nick could feel his cock give a twitch in appreciation as he pictured what Ellis was about to do with those fingers.

Picking up the belt once more with his clean hand, those fingers then went behind Ellis, slipped between his cheeks and found his pucker. The younger man was a dab hand at prepping himself, and knew his own body inside and out. While he worked his magic, he moaned aloud and reintroduced his bucking hips back into the mix. The sight was amazingly erotic, and Nick couldn't resist reaching over to play with Ellis's neglected dick. Ellis, for the most part, seemed to allow it, even bucking up again into the gambler's grasp.

“You're thinkin' about it now, aren't ya, city boy?” Ellis chuckled with an open-mouthed grin. “Thinkin' about me ridin' ya real good, getting' ya all hot 'n bothered...” He leant in slightly, pulling once more on Nick's restraint until the man was a little closer. “Thinkin' about how fuckin' good I'm gonna feel around your cock once I'm wet n' ready?”

That accent was so thick, deep with lust, and it was driving Nick crazy. The gambler gave a groan, just as the belt loosened again and allowed him is breath back. His head fell back to the pillow, already seeing a black fuzz around his vision. “God… sweet peach…”

“Yes, my darlin'?” Ellis crooned, by now with three fingers knuckle deep inside of himself.

“Ple…” Nick panted as he closed his eyes. “Please.”

That was all Ellis needed to hear. With another lop-sided smile, the mechanic shifted until he was kneeling and scooted back a little on Nick's body. He kept a keen eye on his fiancé's face, even as he reached behind, took Nick's cock in hand, and slipped himself down onto it like he'd done it a hundred times before.

The card shark grunted and turned his head a little, and Ellis could hear a shift behind him as Nick moved his legs. His feet was planting themselves onto the mattress and knees bending up, in order to provide him with the leverage he needed. Ellis leant back, slipping down further onto Nick's cock while at the same time resting against Nick's thighs like a back rest. He was grateful for that.

“How about that?” Ellis nearly sang as he shifted on Nicolas's lap. “You're bein' a good boy after all.”

Nick said nothing, just looked up at his Southern lover with a smile on his face, throwing in a wink for good measure. Ellis chuckled and wrapped the belt once more around his wrist for another harsh tug, at the same time, lifting his hips and slamming back down in a harsh bounce. The leather crackled in his grip, and Nick drew another breath. His face was getting redder. “El,” he managed, grinding out the noise, and Ellis was careful to make sure he had enough air to speak, should his next breath utter the safe word.

“Giddy up,” purred the cowboy, reaching up to hold his hat before beginning his ride. Putting all his power to his thighs, up and down Ellis's hips went as he bounced away. The sweetest moans left his throat – couldn't rightly help it, as Nick had always been the best lay of his life.

Nick's hands found their way to Ellis's hips, gripping him there and guiding him on and off his dick. In no time at all, Ellis was fully into the sex, letting go of his hat to reach back and steady himself on Nick's knee as he continued to ride him hard.

“Fuck yeah,” Nick murmured to himself as he gazed up at the scene Ellis was blessing him with. He groaned soon afterwards, craning his neck, and smiled up at his lover. “The belt… please… fuck...”

Ellis grinned and slowed his thrusts down a little in order to tug the belt once more, harsher and tighter than previously. Nick's knuckles went white around Ellis's hips.

“Look at ya… enjoyin' yourself so much,” Ellis praised and drove his hips down once more, grinding back on Nick's length. “C'mon, city boy, you know you wanna come inside'a me...”

Nick could hear the blood rushing around his head, fell the pleasure begin to whirlpool around his cock, and did the only thing he knew he could do. He moved a hand to Ellis's dancing erection and gave him a tight sleeve to fuck into, watching with watering eyes. The Southerner groaned and dropped the leather strap in favor of bracing both hands on Nick's legs, rocking himself like crazy. The gambler drew a gasp of air, Ellis threw his head back, and then it all went white.

“NICK!” Ellis broke character at the last minute to shout his fiancé's name in orgasm. He spilled semen all up Nick's chest and some managed to hit his chin. The sight was erotic enough to send the older man tumbling off the precipice himself, filling Ellis up until he was overflowing. Ellis moaned and lifted himself off for the last time, feeling warm liquid seep down the insides of his thighs.

With a sigh, Ellis leant forward and braced his hands on Nick's shoulders to prevent himself from falling atop him. The cowboy hat fell from his head and onto the floor beside the blunt end of the belt. The mechanic looked up at last, seeing Nick with his eyes closed and drawing in large breaths. He blushed as he reached up to carefully removed the leather from his neck, letting it clatter to the carpet.

“Darlin'?” Ellis whispered as he lifted himself off of Nick, in the process grabbing some tissues in order to clear them both up. “Nick.”

Nick opened his eyes at last, letting them fall onto his cute young lover as he grinned. “Even after all these years...” He reached out to cup El's cheek, rubbing his thumb there. “...you still surprise me, Overalls.”

Once the necessary clean-up had been finished, Ellis crawled back onto the bed and cuddled right up to his gambler, running his hand through his fine chest hair. “Glad you enjoyed the show, Nick.” He looked down, admired the ring still snugly on his finger. “Yeah, not quite how you pictured your night goin', huh?”

“No, sir,” agreed Nick and moved his hand up to lace their fingers together. “But if this is how the rest of my life is gonna go, I think I'm okay with that.”

With a short laugh, Ellis reached up to kiss him, rubbing his thumb along Nick's jaw. “Love you, city boy.”

[uwua3]

snap.

🍁📸 fushimi omi

summary: 5 times omi pretends it’s fine, and 1 time he snaps

warnings: anger issues, therapy, fights

notes: i wrote this based on a personal experience i’ve been recently had with a friend! although they are dear to me, i get tired easily from serious fighting and it brings back bad memories. so, this is just an one–shot that makes my frustration productive instead of taking it out on people!

omi is definitely one of the most patient people in mankai, but i feel like even he has limits and snaps every once in a while. this is just an example of being so mentally tired of fighting that you have no control over your anger anymore ♡

word count: 2,387

music: down in flames – aj mitchell

1.

Omi had been friends with you for as long as he could’ve remembered. You moved to Yosei University two years ago during his freshmen year, and Omi quickly became your tour guide after becoming the resident photographer of the academy, meaning he knew every possible spot on campus.

The first time Omi met you was in one of his classes, where he found his way to the classroom and had one goal in his mind: sit at the seat closest to the door. Omi never liked confrontation, but he’d rather have the professor call on him for sitting front row than have to rush past countless students to barely make it to his next class. His schedule was so packed to the point he needed a break, so when he turned and saw you sitting in his seat, Omi nearly groaned in frustration. It wasn’t a big deal, calm down, Omi.

Omi hated getting angry. The emotion of rage was so common, but he understood it was second to whatever feeling he felt first. Omi carefully took a few deep breaths just like his therapist instructed as he made his way to the open seat next to you, sitting down with a practiced smile to mask his slight annoyance. Omi didn’t like anger, he didn’t want to subject any of his frustrations onto you, especially a stranger who didn’t know him.

It was ten minutes into class before the professor put everyone in pairs to discuss the topic with the person next to you as an icebreaker.

You turned as Omi remembered his lessons: put your hand out, have a friendly smile, and lightly shake their hand. That’s how you make friends, after all! The moment you took his hand, everything changed as you two started talking immediately and got off–topic way too fast. You two clicked! Omi’s underlying tension with you disappeared as his brain recognized you as a new friend.

As he waved goodbye and hurried to his next class, Omi looked forward to seeing you every class.

2.

You’re included in Omi’s friend group after no time at all. You fit in well without any problems, you got along with everyone and Omi was so relieved because he quickly found out you were... problematic.

Omi didn’t realize this at first, but you had a temper. It was an issue he understood, but Omi has spent his entire life trying to not let it explode out of no where. You, really didn’t care. You would initiate arguments over things that really didn’t matter, like miniscule things even Omi didn’t hyper–fixate on. You’d raise your voice, convinced you were 100% right and there was no room to disagree.

Omi would just apologize even if he didn’t mean it and move on from the topic, subtly changing subjects because really, arguing exhausted him. Omi grew up with an all–male house, so the testosterone within his family was tiring, to say the least. Omi had to be the peacemaker, the balance between all the boys (puberty was hell). So, deterring fights with you weren’t exactly difficult, it was just taxing.

One time, you were criticizing Omi for a joke he made. He couldn’t even remember what it was, but you were adamant that he was completely wrong and you began explaining why. Omi glanced around the room, you two were having lunch in the courtyard with his friends. They didn’t seem to notice, used to your outbursts and talked amongst themselves. Wow, thanks guys.

“I’m sorry, you’re right.” Omi tried to calm you down, but you got even angrier (how was that possible?!). You got into it like it was a debate, so Omi just silently ate his food as he half–listened to you and tried to focus on passing students. You went on and on, but Omi couldn’t find it in himself to fight back. He didn’t like that, Omi didn’t like anger.

Omi breathed in and out three times. Omi counted to ten in his head. Omi didn’t look at you. Omi hated getting angry.

So, Omi just kept saying sorry.

(But, was it even his fault?)

3.

You guys moved to texting to stay in touch outside of Yosei University. At first, it was school updates on events that you two wanted to hang out together at. Then, it became like every 21st–century friendship: sending memes. You and Omi had a similar sense of humor, so it wasn’t hard to send him something that made him laugh out loud. He didn’t really follow that many modern online trends because he was often preoccupied with schoolwork, but he understood the appeal.

It wasn’t until he questioned some picture you sent that you blew up his phone with texts, yelling at him for not knowing what joke you were referring to. Omi blinked, he wasn’t used to phone rants. You didn’t even explain the joke, you just made fun of his inability to understand things. Omi almost felt insulted until he remembered this was common, you just liked doing this. You were just tempermental, that’s it.

You were like his brothers. Omi knew what to do, trying to push aside his feelings of hurt as he apologized. You took it this time, much to his relief.

Omi decided to research more stuff about your favorite references so he could stay updated. You were much better with him the next time around and Omi avoided asking questions because you’d only get mad. Omi didn’t want you to be angry, Omi hated getting angry.

Omi hated anger.

4.

Your anger moved to the classroom. The students around you guys liked talking, so you five often grouped up for projects and always talked about “a C is passing”. But sometimes, you liked starting fights even in public with mere acquaintances.

Omi wouldn’t say your stubbornness was a fault. Omi once asked about it in a moment of bravery, and you surprisingly told him you felt silenced most of your life, so you didn’t hesitate sharing what makes you uncomfortable and what hurts you. That was fair, Omi became more understanding of your stubborness and inability to compromise without emotions clouding your judgement. He’d just have to work on managing it.

Omi’s therapist didn’t seem to like you, oddly enough. When Omi shared that you liked fighting, they almost looked concerned. They asked if what you started made Omi angry, and Omi always shook his head and denied it. Yeah, sure sometimes you got him riled up, but he’s never seriously yelled at you in public. He knew how to control his anger management issues, he knew how to be calm again.

He was close though, that day. You were in class, picking on him for something he didn’t even know about. Omi just laughed, trying to play the whole thing off as a joke as you tried to get him mad.

You always hated how, placid, Omi was. He never fought back and didn’t have the drive your other friends did. It was confusing, he was clearly passionate about his hobbies, so it’s not like he lacked energy. He’s yelled before, but always out of exaggeration or acting. Omi was a gentle giant, but you wanted to see him angry, for once.

When you said something particularly embarrasing, Omi’s eye twitched as his heart rate sped up. His blood pressure rose when people started laughing, taking the fun out of the joke when the attack suddenly felt serious. Omi was about to snap, say something he knew he’d regret before he took in a deep inhale through his nose, and exhaled through his mouth. In and out, just like his therapist taught him.

Omi just laughed, much to your chagrin. What was there to laugh about? How could someone be so composed, no matter what?

You gave up, not noticing Omi’s tight fists and practiced breathing next to you. Omi refused to get angry, Omi hated getting angry.

5.

University was closed because of quarantine. Omi missed seeing his friends and often relied on texting now to stay in touch. Omi wouldn’t say he was clingy, but he definitely liked sending messages and shared everything on his mind as the older brother figure. You didn’t seem to like that.

You: Why do you always come to me for these situations if you don’t even listen to me?

Omi stared at his phone screen, confused. Why were you suddenly angry? Everything was going so well, you hadn’t lashed out at him in forever. It was before quarantine, you were enjoyable when you weren’t suddenly mad at him. Omi typed, furrowing his eyebrows.

Omi: I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you mad.

You had sent a message immediately, something about how you couldn’t listen to his rant today and left. Omi was distraught, had he said something wrong? Omi scrolled through his messages, but it’s like you got angry out of no where. Did you like doing this?

Omi muted your contact. For once in his life, he felt like maybe this wasn’t his fault, this time. You exploded on him when he was sharing a vulnerable moment, it almost offended him to the point of writing a long message to show he was hurt.

Never mind that, Omi just dialed it down. Maybe, his friends didn’t want to hear all about his problems, maybe he pushed too much onto them. Omi breathed out, bringing his pointer finger up eye as he pulled it back, seeing the glisten of a tear. Without warning, Omi felt himself start producing tears out of frustration. Omi didn’t know why he was so emotional, it had been so long since he felt emotions this intensely after the many, many one–sided arguments.

Omi laid his head down on his pillow, trying to stop crying. Omi didn’t like all the fights, pretending like it didn’t bother him, that you found it funny to try and test his patience. Omi hated anger, Omi hated getting angry.

But, this time, Omi wasn’t even angry. Omi was just confused why you were angry at him all the time.

You tried messaging Omi the next day. At first, he tried ignoring it, wanting to get some satisfaction from being the petty person for once. But, he relented, getting back in the same cycle.

You seemed to be avoiding the topic of what happened. Omi felt confused, and wanted to resolve the slight tension. Omi apologized first, and for once, you even said sorry back! You explained why what Omi did was hurtful (Omi really didn’t understand, but he tried to), and Omi responded in a similar fashion.

(You ignored it. You sent him a meme.)

Was it fair to say his feelings were hurt? Did his feelings matter to you? Omi sighed, knowing this was the best he was going to get. You were probably just emotionally drained like he was. At least, you weren’t angry.

+1

It was the next day, and Omi snapped.

No, scratch that, it had been mere hours before you got angry at him in a groupchat. For once, Omi’s friends were defending him, saying he was just making funny associations with some T.V. show Taichi made him watch and it was all fun and games. You got angry, saying you felt uncomfortable being associated with a character and that Omi always remembered things based on colors.

Omi stared at his phone screen, again. Omi just liked colors, he hated to admit it, but colors often were essential to his memory. So, no wonder he got into photography! It was just a different way of thinking, and Omi tried explaining that as best as he could. But, he could tell even the others knew his patience was on thin ice as he monotonously texted back.

Omi: Please calm down, it’s just a joke. I wasn’t personally trying to attack you at all. Why are you angry?

You had responded, again and again until Omi sighed, resigning himself to apologize rather than play into your games. Was this all a test? Why were you angry so soon after you two apologized to each other?

Omi said sorry, and you stopped saying anything. Later in the day, you tried to send him multiple memes you knew would make him laugh. Omi just left them on read, trying to go through his day without lashing out at you after the whole episode. It was one thing to fight with him privately, but in the group chat? Omi almost felt betrayed.

Omi was overcome with rage. Omi was just re–reading the messages before his vision went red. His blood was boiling, his heartbeat was drumming in his ears. It had been so long since Omi felt like he wasn’t in the wrong, like the argument wasn’t his fault. Omi sat up, trying to massage his temples as he breathed in and out. But, they came out uneven and haggard, making him even more on edge as he held his head in his hands.

Why was this the last straw? You had fought with him over worse, but this time, Omi couldn’t control his emotions as well as he wanted to. You starting fights with him wasn’t okay, it’s not fine. Stubbornness couldn’t excuse the mental drain he felt every time he talked to you and the way he’d tip–toe around everything instead of talking freely, like he deserved.

Omi picked up his phone, and texted you, despite all his anger.

Omi: I think we shouldn’t talk to each other for a while. I’m tired of being angry all the time. I’ve worked too hard to sacrifice all the progress I’ve made for myself to be calm, you can’t take that away from me. I don’t want to be angry at you, I just want to be friends. Please, let’s talk again when you don’t see me as your inferior, but a friend.

Omi muted you for good and didn’t bother checking your messages. Maybe you won, you got him mad, but Omi felt the anger in him fade away as he realized there’d be no more arguments, fights, or sides to choose tomorrow.

Omi was tired of saying sorry when he didn’t mean it. Sure, he hated anger and getting angry, but sometimes, Omi needed it to say “no”.

[ladyanput]

Seeing Red Ch.1

So, here's the long mentioned Seeing Red. The story takes place parallel to Seeing Green, just all of the junk with Eva you've missed. And it's rated explicit. Enjoy.

---

Evangeline sat on her hotel bed, her head in his hands as she felt her head throb hard. Today had been far too eventful for her liking, and she had nearly lost Marinette to that stupid Two Face villian. Eva had never been more terrified than seeing that gun pressed to Marinette's head, the trigger just inches from being pulled. It was only their second day in Gotham and they were already running into trouble.

"-And so I'm heading down."

Eva blinked and looked up, staring at Caline Bustier, who stood before her in a lovely little black dress and kitty heels. 

"What?" Eva croaked out, her eyes feeling heavy in her skull. She just wanted to sleep, to forget about today. 

"I said that the students invited me down for dinner, so I'm heading down." Caline repeated patiently, smiling at the TA as she grabbed her purse. "I'll be back up in a few hours." 

They had invited Caline, but not Evangeline. They never did, she was pretty sure the kids hated her, ever since she supported Marinette on her first day at that school. Well, except Adrien, he was a sweet boy, though a bit clueless on how the real world should work. But Eva did find herself pitying the boy… 

"Have fun." She spoke, watching her mentor leave, before standing. Perhaps she should go check on Marinette, lord only knows that Caline hadn't checked on the girl after her near death experience, thinking that she was 'strong and independent, fully capable of handling herself'. 

When she had first said that to Eva, she had wanted to spit on the French woman. But, of course, she had withheld, not wanting another lecture of keeping her temper in check while in Paris.

Once Caline was gone, Eva heard a soft tapping noise. Her brows drew together as she glanced around the room, trying to locate the noise, before drawing close to the window. Just behind that curtain, that was where the tapping noise was coming from.

Could it be a tree branch? No, she was on one of the higher floors. And it couldn't be a bird, it had a rhythm to it. Her body tensing up, prepared to bolt if she had to, she pulled open the curtains.

Only to see a man suspended in midair just outside her window. It took everything in Eva not to scream as she scrambled back from the window. It took her a few minutes to realize it was Red Hood that was dangling outside. Giving him a withering glare, Eva stormed up to the window and shoved it open.

"Are you trying to be a fucking stalker and give me a heart attack?" She snapped as Red Hood took the moment to slid into the room.

"No, I thought I'd drop by and see if you were okay. You did a gutsy move today." Red Hood crossed his arms, glancing around the room. "Small space."

"Yeah, well, the school couldn't exactly afford high-end suites." Eva responded dryly as she watched the vigilante carefully. "Not to be rude, but this could be considered creepy on so many levels; find a woman's hotel room and sneaking in through her window."

"Well I assure you, I'm not trying to be creepy." Red Hood shrugged, then crossed his arms. Eva couldn't help but notice the muscles in those arms, then found herself blushing when she remembered how it had felt being pinned under him at the mall earlier.

God, she really needed to get laid.

"Well you're doing a terrible job at it. Listen, is there something you need, Mr. Hood?" Eva eyed him once again, then promptly turned back to the vanity, taking her hair out of its bun carefully. "Because I've had a very long day and I'd like some sleep."

"I wanted to take you out for an evening stroll." He shrugged, then reached out and took her hand, giving a dramatic now. "A reward for your balls of steel today."

Eva's brows rose, as she weighed her options. On one hand, he could maybe kidnap her or plan to sell her into some sort of smuggling ring, but on the other hand Marinette told everyone she wanted to be left alone tonight, so Eva's only company would be Caline when she gets back. Yeah, the kidnapping was a preferable thing to choose.

"What would be on the agenda?" Eva crossed her arms, mimicking his stance as she felt herself smirk. "Gonna make me watch you beat up a bunch of baddies, hoping I'll get wet simply from the testosterone radiating off of you?"

The choking sound he made was beyond satisfying, a chuckle escaping her before she could stop it. Red Hood straightened and went to the window, pushing it open once again.

"Listen, I just thought you'd like a bit of fun before you head back to boring ol Paris, okay? So you wanna come or not?" He held out a hand to her. After a moment's hesitation, Eva reached out and took his hand.

---

Jason had to admit, he wasn't entirely sure why he went after his woman. Maybe it was that 'no bullshit' attitude she seemed to have when he confronted her back at the mall. Maybe he was simply being a hot blooded male and her ass had been on his mind a lot today. Or that he wondered if she had a pretty smile. Ah, the mysteries of life.

Red Hood wrapped an arm around Eva’s waist, her wrapping her arms around his neck in return. He quickly landed near the more questionable parts of Gotham, where he usually dwelled. He set her down on a ledge of one of those multiple stories with the weird gargoyles on them. He motioned for her to wait, before he jumped down into the alley. 

Eva frowned and brushed some snow off of the roof and took a seat next to one of the gargoyles closest to the building, pulling her knees to her chest. She had to be insane to come here, but the sight of the lit up Gotham was a pretty one. She was so caught up in the sight, she barely noticed when Red Hood landed back on the roof and handed her one of the bottles of beer he was holding. 

“Thanks stud.” Eva shot him a dry smile before cracking open the beer and taking a swig. She watched as he sat on the other side of the gargoyle, hiding most of his body, then listened as he cracked open his beer and took a swig. “It’s been a while since I’ve done anything like this.”

“What? Have a beer?” Jason’s brows shot up, but a smirk played at his lips. He stared down at the brown bottle in his hand and chuckled to himself. “You never just sit and have a beer?”

“Not really. I try not to drink often, I don’t wanna fall into the habits my father did.” She muttered, glaring down at the bottle, but took another swig and leaned back against the cold, damp stone of the building. “But what I meant was I don’t really get to relax like this. I always have to be this high strung bitch because the supposed teacher of my class is shit at her job.”

“You wanna talk about it? I mean, you ran in after one of those students today and nearly got shot, you looked like you could have used some relaxing or ranting. Shit, maybe I should have taken you somewhere to beat the shit out of someone, that always makes me feel better when I’m pissed off.”

There was a heavy silence in the air before he heard her let out a defeated sigh.

“You know the French class that won that big contest Bruce Wayne hosted a few months ago? I’m the TA for that class, but I wish to God that I could be their teacher because the one they have doesn’t do jack shit. She actually has the nerve to tell everyone to get along, she doesn’t reprimand bullies, and she knows this bitch of a brat Lila is lying, but she is convinced that it’s some disease that causes her to lie. It’s a disease alright, it’s called being a fucking psychopath! She’s accused me of being a pedophile before!”  Eva threw her hands up in the air, feeling her anger rise. Every part of her was suddenly telling her to shove it down, to stomp on it before those flames could blaze, but she let herself get angry, truly angry. She wasn’t in Paris, Hawkmoth couldn't reach her here. “She causes so many fucking akumas, but no one wants her to get akumatized, but there will always be akumas, there’s never not a fucking akuma in Paris! But hey, you think they'd put that in the brochure or something so that a young Canadian teacher who wishes to strengthen her French by going to France, the girl would not choose Paris, but noooo, that’d be bad for tourism, not the literal fucking supervillian that has made it so that Parisians can’t cope with their anger anymore because they’ve been groomed to never be angry ever!”

Jason closed his eyes and listened to this woman rant about stuff that had probably been on her chest for a long time. He smiled when he heard her chug her beer, then sighed. He began to take a swig of his own beer.

“I think maybe I just need a good, rough fuck. Maybe then I’d feel better.”

Her words nearly made him spit out his beer, but he forced himself to swallow. 

“Why would you want that?” He asked after coughing for a minute, setting down his beer. He felt his cheeks heat up as his mind wandered to less than savoury places.

“Because then maybe I’d unwind a bit. I’m always so worried or stressed lately, especially with Marinette almost getting akumatized last month thanks to that class of hers…”

He watched as she walked towards the edge of the ledge, setting a hand on a snow covered gargoyle. She could have looked back, could have seen his face, but she didn’t. Jason smiled at that and put his helmet back on. Slowly,  he made his way up beside her, setting a hand on her shoulder.

“Why did you run after that girl today? You know that was pretty reckless.” He gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

“Because I care about her. Not too many are caring about her right now and every part of my body is telling me to be there for this girl, to be… To be a part of her team. Her entire class excludes her, she’s this social outcast, save for the rest of the school who aren’t sharing one fucking braincell.” Eva sighed and turned, allowing Jason to stare deep into those vibrant purple eyes of hers. “I’m sorry, I went over all of my issues, but I didn’t let you talk once. That wasn’t fair.”

“I have brothers I can vent to, don’t worry about it. Besides, hearing you talk is kinda nice.” He shrugged, then blinked when there was a faint darkening to her eyes. 

“Tell me, Mr. Red Hood…” Eva smiled and wrapped an arm around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. She could feel the warmth radiating off of his body and it made her shiver in delight. “Why would you bring lil ol me to a roof and get me some alcohol? Hoping to get lucky with a foreign girl?” 

Her smile widened as she listened to him sputter, taking a step back, but grabbing the lapels of his jacket and tugging him along with her.

“I have a proposition for you. I want a week of fun, no strings, kinky as we want sex. I know you don’t know me, and I sure as hell don’t know you… But, what do you say?” At his silence, she let out a chuckle and leaned closer. “Unless you don’t think you can handle it.”

He was silent for the longest time. So long that Eva’s alcohol buzzed brain began to panic. Wait, what if he was ace or gay? Or was already in a relationship? He didn’t know her, why the fuck would he-

“You really sure you want this?” Red Hood leaned close, grabbing her wrists and giving them a light squeeze. “I’m not some gentle giant.”

“Oh, I certainly hope you aren’t.” Eva let out a lustful purr before she could stop herself. 

“... Tomorrow night, I’ll be there around six thirty, got it? I’m taking you somewhere and we can work all of these pent up emotions out of you.” He hissed at her softly, making her tremble. “No excuses.”

“No excuses.” She agreed and grinned.

He took her back to the hotel, giving her a playful bow before he went back out into Gotham, disappearing into the night. Eva smiled as she kept the window open, watching him go.

“Evangeline! What are you doing with the window open, it’s freezing!” Calina snapped as soon as she stepped into the room, scowling at the TA. Eva didn’t respond as she shut the window, the dopey smile still on her face.

Taglist: @chocolate1721 @the-navistar-carol

[thinkyoureholy]

Fragile Figures [16]

.

.

.

Pairing : Choi San / [fem] Reader

Genre : Angst, Violence, Language, Fluff, Smut, Character Death?, Mafia! AU

Words : 2.1k

Pt 1. Pt 2. Pt 3. Pt 4. Pt 5. Pt 6. Pt 7. Pt 8. Pt 9. Pt 10. Pt 11. Pt 12. Pt 13. Pt 14. Pt 15. Pt 16. Pt 17.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

-Y/N's P.O.V-

Three weeks. It's been three weeks and we've got nothing on where San might be. With each day that passes I can feel myself losing more and more of my mind. How the hell did Kanda manage to hide himself so well? I've tracked him down before, many times, but this time--this time it's just impossible to find him. Where are you hiding him? Where? Where?

"Where the fuck are you hiding him?!" I cried out, swiping my arm across the desk.

I rubbed my hands over my face, running my fingers through my hair and pulled at the roots. I was desperate to find San. I needed to know if he was alright, I needed to know if he was alive. I inhaled shakily, feeling everything come crashing down, once again. My heart rate sped up, my vision blurring as the wall I built up to block off my emotions began to crack and finally…crumbled. The first sobs of many wracked through my body. I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep quiet as I cried, not wanting to worry the others.

-Yunho's P.O.V- 

I stood outside her office door, leaning against the wall, my face twisted in pain at what I was hearing come from inside. I thought I had heard the last of her tears that day I stupidly said those harsh words to her. Not a day has gone by that I don’t regret it. What hurts even more is that she forgave me immediately, going back to how we were before, and that stung. I stung to know that she had that much affection for me yet it still wasn’t enough. With that thought in mind I sighed heavily, pushing myself off the wall and headed to where the others were a few doors down.

“How is she doing?” Hongjoong asked the moment I stepped into the room, the look on his face mirroring mine.

“Same as when she first woke up. I’m worried she might snap, I mean really snap any second now.” I said, sitting down in a nearby chair, burying my face in my hands, “We have to find him and we have to find him now. Any word from Seonghwa?”

Hongjoong shook his head, “He’s also starting to get desperate, I’m thinking we should switch him out with Mingi. Seonghwa might put himself and the others in danger if he’s not thinking clearly.”

“No, we can’t have them both here. Those two are more attached to San than any of us so the both of them together sitting on that ball of desperation is a disaster waiting to happen. I don’t know when or how he got so close to San but right now Seonghwa’s distress might be an advantage here.”

“How so?” Mingi asked, speaking up for the first time since I walked in.

“Seonghwa doesn’t lose his composure often, I’ve only seen it happen a handful of times myself but when it happens it’s like he turns into a whole different person. He’s more focused, a lot more meticulous but also reckless at the same time, and most of all he’s ruthless,” I leaned back in my seat, getting flashbacks of the first time I saw him like that, “Normal, level headed Seonghwa spares lives, negotiates even. But when he flips...I would never want to be on the receiving end of anything when he’s not himself.”

Silence fell over us as soon as I stopped talking, Mingi stunned into silence since he’s never seen the side of Seonghwa I’m speaking of. Hongjoong on the other hand fell silent because he was thinking. I could see the cogs moving inside his head as he thought of a way to find San and end Kanda at the same time. And like Hongjoong I was thinking the same thing. As much as I disliked San I couldn’t just ignore this. Y/N is more heartbroken now than when Kanda betrayed us. I know part of the heartbreak was from the not knowing but I just knew she was beating herself up for not being strong enough to stop Kanda from taking San in the first place.

“Y/N mentioned something about Kanda having a brother didn’t she?” Hongjoong asked, referring to when she explained everything that had transpired while we were gone.

I nodded but kept my mouth shut, waiting for him to continue and he did, “She said his name was Shoyo right? I can look into him...maybe we’ll find some kind of clue about Kanda’s whereabouts.”

“But the way she said Kanda spoke about him he must be a kid.” Mingi interjected, “If anything this kid will have no information for us and we’re back to square one.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try.”

“You’re really willing to interrogate a kid that more than likely has nothing to do with this?”

I stood up from my seat quickly, standing in between the two of them the moment I saw the flare in Hongjoong’s eyes. Mingi’s right to be skeptical about looking into the kid and in any other situation I would’ve shot down Hongjoong suggestion as soon as he brought it up but right now we don’t have many options.

“Alright, alright bring down the testosterone. I don’t need you two going at it for no reason. Hongjoong you look into the kid but if there’s nothing we can gain from him leave him out of it, understand?”

He nodded, turning on his heel and doing as he was told. I then turned to Mingi who was already about to protest, stopping him before he got the chance to say anything.

“And you, go meet up with the other three and split off into pairs, we’ll be able to cover more ground that way.” I ordered, not leaving him any room to argue as I gave him a look to not even try it.

He set his jaw and nodded, following Hongjoong out the door. Once they were gone I sighed heavily, running my hands through my hair for what’s probably the upteenth time in the past hours. If only I could get in contact with Kanda somehow...maybe ask him to let San go and let me take his place…

-San’s P.O.V-

“You still haven’t told me what you want with me.” I spat out, staring at Kanda from across the room. 

He was perched on the windowsill, staring out the window with a from on his face. He took a while to answer me, in fact he took so long I repeated what I said. Finally, after a few minutes of silence he looked over at me, pulling the earpiece he was wearing out, a forlorn expression on his face.

“You’ll know soon enough. I’m just as anxious as you are.” 

I furrowed my brow in confusion, the look he now wore on his face not matching the look I’m so used to seeing him wear. Now that I think about it he’s been acting off the whole time I’ve been here...he looks scared to say the least but what does he have to fear. I huffed out a breath of air, shaking my head to rid myself of those thoughts. I could care less about why he’s acting so strangely...I just want to get out of here and back to Y/N. 

Kanda had shown me proof that she was alive but I--I want to see her, no I need to see her. Knowing her she’s blaming herself right about now. What I would do to wrap my arms around her and tell her that I’m fine, that I’m safe. I sighed heavily and threw my head back to look up at the ceiling, ignoring the throbbing pain in my leg. Ever since I got here I had to bite back the pain. Without the painkillers I was taking with Seonghwa on my ass to not miss a dose I was feeling all the pain I had naively thought was gone. It was less intense but it was still very much there, the pain in my leg was more present than anything else.

“They’re here.” The woman who I learned to be named Sul said, the others standing up at her words.

I looked around in confusion, yanking my arm away from Kanda as he went to grab at it. He gave me a look that told me to do as he said. I simply scoffed but I got up anyway, grinding my jaw at the sharp pain that shot up my leg. I looked towards the door, surprised to see a child no older than ten run in and go straight into Kanda’s awaiting arms. Though that surprised me I was more surprised to see the pair that came in after him.

My heart basically stopped at the sight of the familiar red haired woman and blond haired man. My breath caught in my throat, my legs taking an involuntary step back, bumping into the couch behind me. My eyes darted from his golden ones to her dark brown almost black ones. No...why--why are they here? It can’t be...I’ve...I’ve been careful she couldn’t have- And that’s when it clicked. I turned to face Kanda with wide eyes, seeing him staring back at me in confusion.

“What--What are they doing here?”

“You know them?”

I let out a strained laugh, something in between a scoff and a sob, “Do I know them? They’re the asshole who’ve made my life a living hell ever since I was a kid.”

“I thought you said you ran away from home…”

“I did! I ran away from these fuckers but the place I was at was never home!” I shouted, losing my composure.

“Come on now, that’s no way to talk about your family is it?” Kei chuckled, the sound of his voice causing me to flinch, “Now get over here while your big brother is asking nicely.”

I heard the underlying threat in his voice but I refused to more, I didn’t even look at him. Without even looking at him I could tell he was not liking my response so Kiri spoke up, trying to coax me with her soft voice like she always used to.

“San...let’s not make this any harder than it has to be. She’s ordered us not harm you but-”

“But what? You’ll tie me up like when I was a kid?” I sneered, finally looking over at the two of them, “Some fucking brother and sister you two are. Go back to that fucking bitch and-”

I didn’t even get to finish my sentence, the air being knocked out of me. I doubled over, unconsciously grabbing onto his arm to stop myself from falling to the floor. Kei had stomped over to me and punched me right in the gut, like he had done so many times before. I coughed loudly, gasping for air as I tried to recompose myself.

“You will show our older sister some respect, you little brat.” Kei spat, grabbing a hold of the back of my neck tightly, forcing me to stay hunched over, “That bitch you’ve been fucking has caused her trouble over the years and the moment we found out she had you our dear older sister came up with a brilliant idea. But I’m going to let her tell you all about it herself, now, it’s time to go home.”

I fought against his grip but like always he was stronger than I was. Sure I learned how to fight and defend myself after I got away from them but just seeing him had my mind go blank, everything I ever learned leaving my mind, fear I haven’t known since being in their presence creeping into every bone in my body. Kiri was no better than Kei, in fact she was worse. She made me believe in her false promises, made me think she was on my side but the moment I showed her any type of resistance she’d punish me like I’ve never been punished before. These two along with that other one made my life a living hell since the moment I was born. I may have lied to Y/N about my family but it was because I just wanted to forget about them. I guess the harder I tried, the easier it was for these bastards I had the misfortune of sharing the same blood with was to find me.

[xixxvxx]

first testosterone injection

in this post i’ll explain in (probably excessive) detail what my first shot was like. i had a lot of nerves about doing it, as everyone does, but i found that reading other people’s accounts and advice on the matter beforehand helped ease some of my anxiety. i wanted to share my experience, that my doing so might help someone else in turn!

before proceeding, please keep in mind that i am not a medical professional in any capacity, and this is not formal medical advice! i am just recounting my personal experience for anyone who might be curious about what it’s like. if you’re planning on injecting yourself, don’t take my word here as guidance—your doctor should be able to walk you through the process step by step in person, and additionally provide you with take-home resources which will explain how to do your shot, so stick to those instead.

in-depth talk of needles and injection under the cut.

my first shot was a fairly standard starting dose of 0.3 mL testosterone cypionate. my injections are subcutaneous, so they go into the layer of fat between my skin and my muscle. the needles for this are 25 gauge and 5/8 of an inch long— relatively short and thin. (if you don’t have a reference for what that looks like in real life, a 25g needle is about as thick as a small sewing needle, though obviously much sharper, and at 5/8” it’s about the length of your thumbnail.)

my prescription includes the previously mentioned 25g x 5/8” needles for subcutaneous injection pre-attached to syringes, as well as individual 18g x 1” needles for drawing up the testosterone. when i draw my dose, i swap out the original subcutaneous needle for the drawing needle, draw the testosterone, dispose of the drawing needle, and replace it with the subcutaneous needle. (i can explain the drawing process in more detail if anyone wants to know more about it.) your needle and syringe configuration might be a little different depending on your prescription and your pharmacy’s available stock, and the process of drawing might take one step more or fewer depending on that.

i was told that for subcutaneous injection i could pick a site on the fatty part of either one my thighs or my belly. i decided to use my belly, since i found it a little easier to pinch the flesh there. here are the steps i took to inject myself, from start to finish:

with my NP’s supervision i located an injection spot about an inch to my right of my navel.

i cleaned a 2” circle around this spot with an alcohol wipe for 10 seconds, then let the area dry for another 20 seconds. (i’ve heard that it can sting if you inject before the alcohol has time to dry.)

using my non-dominant hand i pinched a thin fold of my skin from that area in my fingers, pulling it away from my abdomen slightly.

in my dominant hand i held the needle like a dart—i grasped the end closer to the tip with my thumb and middle/ring/pinky fingers, and kept my pointer finger resting on plunger. (i found that you don’t really need to worry about accidentally pushing the plunger too soon here—the testosterone is thick and requires some effort to push out.)

after lining the needle up to the fold of skin at a roughly 45º angle to the right, i pushed the needle through my skin in one firm, quick motion. (this sounds scary, but it was easier than i thought it’d be—more on that later.)

once the needle was fully in my skin i pushed down on the plunger with my pointer finger, being careful to keep my hand as steady as possible so as not to wiggle the needle.

after all the testosterone was injected i pulled the needle out fully before letting go of my skin.

finally i re-capped the needle and disposed of it in the sharps container.

here are my personal observations of my injection experience:

i knew that i would only get more anxious about the shot the longer i waited, so when the time came to actually inject myself, i took a deep breath, did a quick 3-2-1 countdown in my head, and pushed the needle in very quickly before i could really think about it.

i was surprised and pleased to find that my shot did not hurt! i was terribly nervous about it beforehand, but it was virtually painless—in fact, i don’t even know that i would describe it as uncomfortable. i did feel the needle enter my skin, but it was just the mildest tugging/pricking sensation. there was no resistance—the needle slid in easily and fully in under a second. i’d heard people describe their shots as mild or painless before, and had trouble believing it before i tried it, but seriously, i barely felt it. the hardest part of the whole experience was pushing down on the plunger, because, again, the testosterone is a viscous liquid and comes out a little slowly. other than that the experience was a cakewalk.

when i pulled the needle out of my skin a small drop of testosterone leaked out behind it, along with just the tiniest pinprick of blood. the bleeding was so minor that i didn’t really need a band-aid, but i put one on just in case.

as the day continued i felt no discomfort around the injection site. when i removed the band-aid i saw that no more blood had leaked out. i could just barely see the itty bitty red dot where i injected myself, and though my NP told me mild bruising or swelling is common after an injection, i experienced neither.

all in all it was a quicker, simpler, and far less painful experience that i had anticipated it would be!

[headfullofstories]

Truly Monstrous Luck - part 1

   I didn’t think my day could get any worse. I lost my job after I got evicted when my landlord thought my testosterone was fucking heroine, my wallet got stolen - thanks, New York - and that meant my bus card and my money, So I have to walk from Manhattan to my brother's house in The Bronx, in the rain, without an umbrella. I thought this was the worst my day could get. Boy, was I wrong.

I was on 1st Avenue heading towards the Willis Avenue bridge, when I heard footsteps behind me. I didn't think anything of it for the first few minutes - it's New York, a lot of people live here. But these footsteps sounded like someone was wearing tap shoes, crisp and loud and menacing. It made me nervous, sure, but I didn’t think they were dangerous. The only thing of any value I had on me was my phone, this shitty old Motorola Droid X I bought used when I was 13. Even if I did get mugged, I don't think anyone wants a 9 year old smartphone, so the worst that would happen is I would get a little roughed up. Big deal, I've dealt with worse.

But as I crossed 86th Street, the footsteps behind me sped up, and as I crossed in front of an alley I felt a pull from behind me. Then I started to really panic. A thousand horrific thoughts flashed through my head then as I was pulled into the dark alley, but none of them come close to what actually happened.

The person who had been following me was a guy who looked a little older than me, maybe 24. He wore a 3 piece suit with a golden tie and a pair of dress boots, and he held a solid black umbrella. He held me by the throat, pinned against the wall and out of sight of passers-by. I was shocked for a moment, unsure what happened - this guy was really strong. Inhumanly strong. After the shock settled a little, my mind was clouded with fear. Bad things can happen in dark alleyways, and I wasn't about to become another fucking statistic. I pulled at the man's hand, desperately trying to break free. But the man in the suit had an iron grip, keeping me firmly in place, several inches off of the ground. My fight or flight had already kicked in, and I was kicking at this man with all of the force I had, which was admittedly low since I had walked 15 blocks in the rain with a binder on, not a healthy combo. Combined with the pressure on my windpipe, I could barely breathe.

The man laughed as he held me there, weak and pathetic, fighting for dear life and on the verge of tears.

"It's worthless, little boy." He growled, and I saw now he had a pair of long white canines. "There's no escape now."

Oh, fuck no. No no no no, those things aren't real. Monsters don't exist. they shouldn't, at least…

"W-what do you want?" I wheezed, tears pricking at my eyes. I started feeling an overwhelming sense of dread.

"I might kill you. Drain your blood, leave you here for someone to find you." He starts, nodding his head from side to side as if weighing his options. "Or maybe I could turn you. Curse you with eternal life, give you the thirst for blood… which would you prefer?"

"I… I don't wanna die." I whimpered, not fully thinking what I was saying, tears streaming down my face.

"Unfortunately that's not an option, dollface." He smirked. "But I'll give you the next best thing." And with that, he plunged his fangs into my neck.

Up until this point, I had tried to convince myself that this dude was just some fucked up lunatic with coincidentally long teeth. But as soon as he bit me, there was no denying it. This asshole was a vampire, and I was fully about to die. Fuck, what am I gonna tell Justin? I guess nothing, he probably wouldn’t believe me anyways, if I even survive.

I thought that getting bit would hurt a lot more than it did, but it felt a lot like getting a shot - not painless, but unpleasant. I could feel the life being sucked out of me, and the longer it went on the more hazy my consciousness became. I fully lost consciousness after 10 seconds. The last thing I remember is his breath on my neck as my humanity melted away.

I wake up as I feel someone grabbing me around the torso. My vision is hazy and I feel hungry. My mind is hazy, I can’t manage to think of anything but death. I do my best to focus on what’s happening, who’s grabbing me, and slowly my vision clears and I can see that I’m in the arms of a hulking humanoid with green skin and an underbite with two giant protruding from its mouth. I start to panic all over again. What happened after I passed out? How long was I out? I start flailing frantically, trying to escape the clutches of this green-skinned monster. It notices me squirming, and holds me out at arms length by my underarms. Its silver eyes look me up and down, and as it seems to notice the fear in my eyes its own expression softens.

“Wh-who are you?” I manage to say as my mind fills with thoughts of escape, get away, kill whoever stops you and I hold back the urge to bite this thing. “What happened? Am I dead?”

Its eyes fill with a look of hurt and grief. “God, you’re so young. Fucking monsters, doing this to a kid…” Its - their? - voice is gruff, but more in a butch lesbian way than an MMA fighter way. Their face lightens a little, forcibly, eyes still full of grief. “Sorry, where are my manners? My name is Yvonne, I work with a group that’s supposed to stop shit like this from happening to kids like you. Fuck, these assholes get so damn confident on rainy days…"

"Why did you grab me?" I ask slowly, suppressing the overwhelming thoughts of death as much as I can. "Why didn't you just leave me there?"

They take a deep breath and go down to their knees and set me on the ground, still holding onto my sides, so we're eye to eye. "Fledglings like you are often overwhelmed by their desires. I can see the bloodlust in your eyes, kid, and you're doing a hell of a job suppressing them like this. But by the time the sun sets you will have drawn blood, and that has caused a lot of good kids a lot of grief the day after. The group I work for works to prevent things like this - vampirism and lycanthropy and the like - from being spread, but sometimes shit like his happens, someone gets infected, and we have a responsibility to contain those kids, give them resources for dealing with their passive urges, help them get their fix in a way that doesn't put anyone at risk."

"I am dead." I mutter, going limp in Yvonne's arms and start crying. "Fuck, the universe won't give me a break, will it?"

"I'm sorry, baby." Yvonne mutters, pulling me back towards their - her? - chest and holding me in a tight hug. "Shit, 10 minutes and I would've been there, 10 minutes and this wouldn't've happened to you."

"Wh-why do you care about me?" I whimper, curling up in her arms. "I… I'm just some stupid kid."

"Everyone deserves someone who looks out for them, baby." She sighs. "I wouldn't wish what happened to you on my worst enemies. This area is my responsibility, this happened on my streets, I need to make sure you don't think you're alone in this."

"Th-thank you." Is all I can manage, before the thoughts are back at full force and I clutch my head, keeping my head between my legs, my mouth away from Yvonne and my eyes away from any people. I hiss as the thoughts invade my mind like a plague. All I can think about is death, of blood, of killing everyone, of killing this woman who has just shown me overwhelming kindness despite never having met me before. I start crying even harder, trying to make the thoughts go away, when I feel a tap on my shoulder. I look up at Yvonne, a look of complete calm settled over her face - I wonder if she works in healthcare? - as she holds a small labelless juicebox.

"Cow blood." She says simply. "Helps with the urges."

I snatch the box out of her hand, poke the seal open with a fingernail, and chug the metallic liquid inside. It feels wrong, but my mind is so clouded with the need to drink that this seems like the greatest thing I've ever consumed. I feel a little dirty after doing it, but the thoughts are quieter.

“Can we leave?” I ask hesitantly. “I want to learn how to deal with this. And I don’t want to be here anymore.”

She nods, and stands up. “We need to get to Belvedere Castle. Do you have a way of getting home from there?”

I shake my head. “My brother lives in Mott Haven… and someone stole my wallet, so my only way of getting there is walking. All I have is my Motorola Droid.”

She nods sympathetically. “Do you want to go to your brother’s house first?”

I shake my head. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to do two subway rides in a row. Plus, I need to figure out… how to tell him.”

She nods again. “You got a name I can call you, baby?”

“Uh, V-Victor.” I respond shakily, everything that’s happened in the past half an hour has me reeling and stressed and convinced that I must’ve just been pushed into oncoming traffic and this is a comatose nightmare, that a monster lady didn’t just have to explain to me that I’m a fucking vampire now. Monsters aren't supposed to be real, they’re not supposed to be able to walk through Manhattan totally unnoticed.

I’m not supposed to be one.

"Well, Victor, you good to walk the mile down to the park?"

I nod. “I… I have a binder on though… I can’t walk very fast.”

She looks confused for a moment, then realization flashes across her face. “That's good to know. We can get you connected to other trans guys at headquarters.”

“Th-there are other guys like me?” I’ve never heard of a trans vampire before.

“Nothing says monsters can’t be queer.” She reasons. “My girlfriend is a lycanthrope.”

I nod, a sense of lingering awe hanging in my mind. There are other people like me. This isn’t as much of a death sentence as I thought it was. It’s just another half an hour of walking to get to Belvedere Castle.

The rain is coming down even harder now, the clouds dark with the threat of thunder. I smile a little at that - I've always loved the sound of thunder. Vampirism isn't gonna fuck that over for me. Nothing can fuck up the pure joy the sound of thunder or sight of lightning gives me.

We head out, and I realize now just how hard it still is to breathe. My throat is burning, my binder is crushingly tight, and on top of that my legs feel like jelly. I do my best to keep pace with Yvonne, which is difficult to do without letting her know anything is wrong.

We get to Park Avenue before I have to pause and catch my breath. I tap Yvonne's arm as I wheeze slightly, leaning on a nearby building as I take as deep of breaths as I can.

"You good, baby?" She asks gently, and I nod in between breaths.

"Fine, just… drained." I mutter, not telling her about how tight my binder is. If she knows she'll make me take it off and that'll be worse than any broken ribs I might get.

"Take your time." She reassures me, leaning against the building and crossing her arms.

I mutter an unintelligible thanks, and take a minute or so to let my heart rate slow down and my lungs return to functioning normally.

"Alright," I sigh as my breathing returns to normal, "I'm good. Let's keep going."

She nods a little hesitantly, but makes no comment. I let out a tiny sigh of relief as we continue towards the park.

Lightning fills the sky by the time we reach Belvedere Castle. I smile wide as the flashes dance through the clouds, high above the highrise buildings of Manhattan. The water in Turtle Pond is constantly shifting under the barrage of the rain, warping the reflections of the trees and the castle above. Yvonne walks around the outside of the building, periodically knocking on stones as she goes, then walking into the castle and disappears as she rounds a corner inside. I trail close behind her, glad to get fully out of the rain. As I turn the corner where Yvonne disappeared, I find myself inside of a real, proper castle, walls lined with sconces fitted with lightbulbs and a giant chandelier hangs from the high ceiling. I run up to follow right at Yvonne’s feet, as the dozen or so people milling about turn to look at us. I can feel the creeping eyes of all of the people around the hall watching me, and I grab onto Yvonne’s shirt like a little kid following his mom. I have never felt less my age than I do at this moment.

“You don’t have to be so nervous, Victor.” She mutters, “Most of them won’t bite you.”

I snort at that, but her comment does little to stop the anxiety welling in my chest. Fuck, today is utter bullshit. It’s not even noon.

Yvonne leads us down a series of hallways, and everywhere we turn there are more people turning to look at me as we pass. I bear my teeth at a few of them out of fear, before remembering that probably has very different implications now that I have horrible vampire fangs. I keep my head down after that. I can still feel all of the eyes on me, but I do my best to ignore it.

“Arthur!” Yvonne yells as she guides us into an office-type room. “We’ve got a new infected!”

A man walks out from a sideroom and glares over at her. “This fucking early?” He hisses, then he sees me poking around from behind Yvonne. His expression shifts from annoyed to sad, and lets out a deep sigh.

“Where?” He grumbles, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“86th and 1st.” She mutters. “He showed a surprising level of self-control right after he woke up. But… I still didn’t get there in time to stop it. The FUCKING train was late and now this kid’s dead.”

“It’s not as much of a death sentence as you think, Yvonne.” Arthur sighs, then looks at me. “What’s your name, son?”

“V-Victor, sir.” I respond quietly. This man is tall, maybe 6’2”, with sharp facial features.  His cheekbones are high, and his nose is a little crooked, and his skin is deathly pale. He’s wearing a black leather jacket and a Queen shirt, and he looks like hasn’t slept in a while.

“Well, Victor, I’ve been living like this for 50 years, and I’m perfectly fine… as long as I remember to eat…” he looks at me a little closer, squinting his eyes. “How old are you, kid?”

“Um… I’m twenty…” I squeak, getting a little bit of sensory overload at this point. I pop my knuckles to try and ground myself a little. My binder suddenly feels a lot tighter again.

“Jesus fuckin christ…” he groans, resting his face in his hand. “those bastards love to turn em young, huh?”

I nod a little, then things start to go out of focus. The room is spinning, my vision blacks out, and before I know it I’m on the ground. Fuck this spandex deathtrap.

[bamon4bamily]

TVD 9x10 - Spinnin’ round and round... (part 1) Enjoy! =)

Cut to – The secret facility, Edward’s cell which, unlike Matt’s, is quite luxurious. He is lying on his bed, sedated, having flashbacks from his past. 

Cut to- 3 years ago, the Powell’s NYC mansion.

TAMARA: Moy malen’kiy geroy, I’m happy you are home; I was getting worried.

EDWARD: Oh, come on mom, I was only gone for a couple of hours.

TAMARA: Come, sit with me, have some wine. (Pours him a glass) So, how did she take it?

EDWARD: Not very well, but that had more to do with her ego than her feelings.

TAMARA: You made the right decision, I never liked her.

EDWARD: I know, you made that quite clear any time she was around.

TAMARA: Well, I tried my best to behave but I just couldn’t stand seeing you with someone that didn’t deserve you; let alone a Luxford. What else did you expect, my dear?

EDWARD: (Smiles in complicity) That’s true. I don’t know what I was thinking. I guess I thought she might be different given that she actually studied a dignified career, instead of being just another socialite.

TAMARA: Oh, my dear, you can be so naive sometimes. The only reason she got into Harvard medical is because of who her father is, nothing more. Now, let’s forget about her and move on to you. Have you thought about your father’s proposal?

EDWARD: Mother, how can you even ask me that after everything he has put us through? Especially you…

TAMARA: I know, and I will hate him for the rest of my life for what he has done to us, but this is not about him, it’s about the order, and your god-given right to be at the top of that pyramid.

EDWARD: I don’t know if I want that… is it even worth it? I mean, for the price one has to pay… I really don’t think it is.

TAMARA: If I didn’t know what they were capable of, I would agree with you, but unfortunately, whether you like it or not, you were born into this, and there is no escaping that.

EDWARD: You managed to get away from him…

TAMARA: Oh, my dear boy, you have it all wrong. I might have been able to get him away from us, but by no means have I escaped him. Just like you, whether I like it or not, I married into this and there is no way out… except death, of course.

EDWARD: Don’t say that, god, mother, you can be so dark sometimes!

TAMARA: I’m sorry, moy malen'kiy geroy, I didn’t mean to upset you. Why don’t we change the subject and lighten the mood. How about we start planning for Anthony’s surprise birthday party, it’s coming soon, and we need to start preparing.

EDWARD: That, I can get on board with.

TAMARA: How about a Gatsby theme? He loves Fitzgerald.

EDWARD: That’s perfect!

TAMARA: The Madame arrives tomorrow; we can ask her to help; she has so many memorabilia from the ’20s, it will come in handy.

EDWARD: If anyone knows how to throw a party, it’s her.

TAMARA: Tell me about it! Wildest days of my life have been with her (they laugh). Alright, my love, it’s getting late and I need my beauty sleep. We’ll get into the planning details tomorrow.

EDWARD: I’m going to stay for a bit longer.

TAMARA: Okay, but don’t stay up too late, sleep is important. (Kisses his cheek) I love you.

EDWARD: I love you too, have a good rest.

Cut to – Akumal, Mexico. Bonnie, Damon, Stefan, and Caroline are at a beautiful cenote, getting ready to scuba dive.

BONNIE: Wow, Care, I have to say, I’m so proud of you! Just a few days ago you wouldn’t even get near the ocean, and now you are suiting up to explore the deep waters!

CAROLINE: I know! I’m a changed woman, that’s for sure! Also, Alfredo (their dive instructor) said there are no sharks in these waters…

ALFREDO: That’s right, nothing to worry about. Now, if you see a pair of red-eyes shine… let me know.

CAROLINE: What!!!!!

ALFREDO: (Laughs) Just kidding! It’s fine, only thing you might see, if you are lucky, is some fish. Now, everyone, ready?

DAMON: (All suited up) Let’s do this!!

ALFREDO: Remember what I taught you, and stay close. It can get very dark at some points inside the caves, so don’t let go of the lifeline.

STEFAN: I think I’m regretting this decision…  

BONNIE: Oh, come on, Stefan, you love the dark.

STEFAN: But not underwater…

CAROLINE: Let’s give it a try, if we don’t like it, we can abort mission (turns to Alfredo), right?

ALFREDO: Of course, you know the signal, so if you want out, let me know and I’ll bring you right back up; no worries. 

STEFAN: What the hell, let’s do it!

ALFREDO: Excellent, my friend! You won’t regret it.  Okay, on the count of three, we’ll jump in. One… two… three!

Cut to – The Salvatore school, Alaric’s study. After many unsuccessful tries, Radka, Alaric, Lexi and Tyler are still trying to figure out how to undo the body switch spell. Katherine is getting desperate; the student seems to be enjoying this new body, just a tad much…

 KATHERINE: (Catches the student touching his boobs) Hey!!! Hands off perv!!!

THE STUDENT: I’m sorry Miss Pierce! I swear it won’t happen again; I was just curious.

KATHERINE: Oh yes, I’m sure that’s what that was! I have my eye on you! (Turns to Lexi and Tyler who can’t stop laughing) And you two... I swear, I’ll get you back!

TYLER: Oh, come on, Katherine, have a little sense of humor. You have to see the irony in all of this.

KATHERINE: Not when my body smells like a testosterone-filled locker room and I have a thing hanging between my legs!!

LEXI: (Mocking) As long as it’s not stiff…

KATHERINE: Shut up, Lexi!! (Throws the couch pillow at her face, Lexi catches it with her vamp reflexes).

ALARIC: (With a grin, trying to contain the laughter) Relax, Katherine, I’m sure we’ll find a way to revert this… at some point.  

RADKA: (Scrolling through different spellbooks) Well, even if we do, we’ll need to find a different witch to do the spell, an experienced one, Ivan (the traveler student) or any other witch student won’t be able to pull it off without guidance. And, Margo (the witchcraft teacher) is on sick leave, and Bonnie on vacation, so it might take more time than we had hoped.

KATHERINE: Are you kidding me??! I can’t be trapped in this body any longer!! Look at me!! I’m hideous and hormonal!!!

LEXI: (Looking at her package, smirking) And excited, I see...

KATHERINE: Oh, damn!! 

(Looking at Alaric, Tyler, and Ivan) How do you live like this??!! It’s disgusting! (Gets up to go to the bathroom, as she walks out, they all crack up).

Cut to- Munich Medical Lab, inside an old operating theatre; first day of the program. Sam, Elena, Alex and Sage, along with the rest of the students, are waiting for the program’s sponsor to arrive for the welcoming speech. After an hour, he finally arrives; absolutely no rush or apology for his tardiness.

PIETRO: Welcome everyone. If you are here you are one of the chosen, and you better be very grateful for that. From this point on, your life is about to change. Those who survive the program will be transformed, from pathetic wannabes to legends. Good luck (He leaves).

ELENA: That’s it? That’s what we waited an hour for? Speech didn’t even last a minute! No introduction, nothing! How rude!

SAGE: You really are lost, aren’t you? Don’t you know who that is? We should be thankful he even gave us 30 seconds of his time.

SAM: Drop it, Sage. She doesn’t have to know who he is. And you give him too much credit, he’s just an asshole with a shit load of money, that’s all.  

SAGE: Are you serious, Sam?! God, going small-town really affected you… the old Sam would have been fanboying at the mere glimpse of him.

ALEX:  Oh, please, Sage, just stop. The only reason you worship him is because he’s powerful, and “supposedly” a far relative of yours; which I doubt.

SAGE: No, the only reason I worship him is because he is a true legend, far more than Grayson was. And we are related.

ELENA: Wow, your are a bitch...

SAGE: I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I am being a bitch...Sorry about that, I get very defensive when it comes to him, I’m a huge fan. I’ll stop, I swear. I really am sorry for saying that. Truce?

ELENA: Just keep my father’s name out of your mouth, and we’ll be fine.

SAGE: Done.

SAM: Okay… let’s head to our first course before this gets even more uncomfortable.

ELENA: (As they are heading out) So, what’s the big shots name?

SAM: Pietro Salvatore (Elena holds him back; Sage and Alex keep walking).

ELENA: Salvatore… 

SAM: I know, what a coincidence! Seems like you can’t escape that name…(Teasing) Good thing this one is much older, I mean, in real-time, so I have nothing to worry about.

ELENA: As for him, or any other Salvatore in the world, you don’t; but if your “friend” keeps up with her snarky commentary, you will have something to be worried about.

SAM: I’m sorry, she can be a hand full, but that’s not who she really is. She puts up this tough bitchy exterior as a defense mechanism; but once she puts her guard down, she’s a completely different person; trust me.

ELENA: I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt because I love you. But if she doesn’t stop, she’ll know just how bitchy I can be too.

SAM: I’ll keep her in line, I swear.

ELENA: Good.

SAM: Just to be sure, there is no way Damon and Stefan are related to him, right? You told me they were the last ones in their bloodline.

ELENA: They are; the last remaining Salvatore, Sara, was killed by Damon.

SAM: Seriously? Wow, your ex is really fucked up.  

ELENA: Well, he was under some siren’s psychic mind control thing, so it wasn’t his fault.

SAM: I know it’s your home an all, but I’m glad we got away.

ELENA: Me too. Although, I really miss my friends.

SAM: I know (kisses her), let’s hope they come visit soon.

 Cut to – The Powell mansion. Anthony knocks on The Madame’s bedroom door.

ANTHONY: Madame, I am sorry to disturb you at this hour, but Mr. Powell did not come home last night, and he still hasn’t arrived. I am becoming concerned. Do you happen to know where he might be?

THE MADAME: Anthony, love. I think we both know where, or rather who he is with. Trouble is, Augustus has some very annoying tech thta is blocking my ability to track Edward. I’ve been trying to get a reach on him, but nothing.

ANTHONY: I knew this was a mistake, I warned you both.

THE MADAME: I know. I thought we had it under control, was not expecting Augustus’ toys getting in the way.  

ANTHONY: You were sworn to protect him, and if I must say, you are not doing a good job.

THE MADAME: Anthony, as much as I respect and appreciate you, be careful with your words. We wouldn’t want this situation escalating…

ANTHONY: Am I supposed to take that as a threat?

THE MADAME: Not at all. I would never hurt you. Just take it as advice to be more empathetic to those that love Edward, just as much as you do. And, FYI, you also failed to protect him, so if there is blood, it will be on both of our hands.

ANTHONY: Pardon me, Madame. I understand what you are saying; and you speak the truth. I’m just desperate, and very scared for him.

THE MADAME: As am I. I’ve dealt with all sorts of supernatural things for years, but I have never been faced with this kind of enemy, mostly because I can’t really comprehend it; I despise technology. But you have my word, I will not rest until I find him and bring him home safely.

ANTHONY: Thank you, Madame. And, once again, I do apologize for my behavior, I was out of line.

THE MADAME: You were being a father, I understand.

ANTHONY: And you, a mother.

THE MADAME: We will find him, I promise.

ANTHONY: I’ll leave you to your duties, Madame. Let me know if I can be of any assistance.

THE MADAME: I will, Anthony. Have a goodnight.

ANTHONY: You too, Madame.

 Cut to – New Orleans, a downtown bar. Klaus and Danae are having a drink. A familiar face walks in.

 KLAUS: (His eyes light up as if they were on fire) Are my eyes deceiving me again?

ABBY: They’re not.

KLAUS: You returned…

ABBY: (Smirks) I told you I would …

TVD 9x10 (part 2) coming soon! Hope you stop by, read and enjoy! =)

[genderdysphoriablues]

15/1/'20

Hey y'all, it's been a while. Here's a summary what happened in the past month:

I talked about my really bad dysphoria, and that mingled with a depressive episode made it difficult to update my blog, and then I just kind of got lazy. But during that time I made two very important appointments.

The first is that I planned to go see my therapist again because I was in such a bad place. I didn't get to that appointment until January (it was set from December), but that'll come up later. The second was something I'd like to say was an impulse decision, but that would be lying because it actually took weeks to plan out. I set up an appointment with an endocrinologist at an informed consent clinic.

In the meantime: Christmas and New Years. I got Christmas off this year, and took some time that day to visit and exchange gifts with Grace (she got me two books: Starsight by Brandon Sanderson, and The Joker Psychology).

I did work on New Year's, but that was my choice. I was at a house for Day Program, and I was literally almost in tears because the bunny they have there was licking and nuzzling me. I also visited Grace again.

Not too long after, I had my last day at Day Program. I'm going to take some time before I start looking at another job so I can do some theatre or combat training. Maybe both.

I auditioned for Sister Act at a local community theatre, and got callbacks for TJ (a male character, mind you). I'm stoked! I really hope I get in.

I also saw my therapist, finally. We talked about the endocrinologist appointment and if I was okay letting my bishop know why I'm meeting with a therapist. Then I went to see Jumanji 2 (I loved it) and had some Chick-fil-A.

Recently my atheist friend Silver came to church with me out of the blue, went to the library with me to check out A Satanic Bible, and then came to Study group with me to discuss atheism vs Mormonism with @closetmormon and another friend. He can be Jasper. It was a nice discussion and we all felt very enlightened afterward.

This brings us to today.

I woke up and played some Kingdom Hearts: Chain of Memories (I finally finished the first one! Not really as fond of CoM, to be honest). Then my mom started to do stuff on the treadmill, and I left the house. Not because of that, though.

I drove an hour to an ObGyn and checked in to the appointment I had set over a month ago. I was there for a long time as they did blood tests (I didn't pass out this time!) and gave me a juice box. I waited as the doctor dealt with an emergency in another room. I filled out a blue packet that said I probably didn't have depression (I don't), and that I probably have anxiety (I do). I initialed and signed a long form detailing all of the changes that testosterone would make on my body.

The doctor finally came in and we chatted for a little bit, making sure I knew what I was getting in to, and insuring that I have a strong support system I could turn to. I do.

And then finally, finally, finally, the nurse gave me my first shot of testosterone. I have very mixed feelings about it.

I want this so badly, but this could directly interfere with my full participation in a gospel that I love so much. Of course I won't stop going to church and all, but I'm 100% sure that I won't be able to go to the temple anymore. I'm going to talk to my bishop this upcoming Sunday.

But of course, I'm finally on testosterone!!!

Anyway, I went to work (at the library) and moved movies from place to place all night (yesterday I got to destroy old magazines, which is my favourite job).

Mostly, though, I'm ecstatic that I'll finally have the body I need to.