#like I have fallen hard back into the go fandom

[stardustandash]

How many fics have you worked on since January?

Worked on about 55? I think? Its hard to calculate as I posted whumptober and febuwhump as individual stories but they exist in one doc each on my computer. I've worked on 6 fics that are either as of yet unposted, unprinted in a zine, or just lost unfinished limbo (I need to work on my merrin-focused post nur fic omg)

2. What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

I guess I've tried to play more with present vs past tense, and finishing multichapter fics before posting. Did try out a time loop for the first time during whumptober and had fun with that!

3. What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

I feel like Star Wars is the pretty obvious answer, though right at the end of the year here comes Dragon Age with a steel chair after 4 years of not really being involved in the fandom

4. How many fandoms did you write for this year?

Seven, I think! Jedi Fallen Order & Survivor, The Bad Batch, Dragon Age Inquisition & Veilguard, FFXV, FFXVI, Horizon Zero Dawn & Forbidden West, and Twisted Wonderland

5. What ships captured your heart?

As a gen writer its rare for ships to catch me, but thank you Veilguard for giving me Rook x Harding, and M!Rook x Emmrich. (Not a fan of F!Rook x Emmrich sorry yall)

7. What characters captured your heart?

As always Cal remains number 1 in my heart. I love him so much, along with the whole Mantis crew <3 For new this year, I am bewitched body and soul by the Veilguard crew. The writers were cooking with all of them, they're all amazing!!

8. Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

...Does Veilguard count lol? For new fandoms I wrote one FFXVI fic early in the year.

I've got two fics for Rook x Harding and one wip for Rook x Emmrich as new ships!

9. What fic meant the most to you to write?

That's a hard question!! I think I poured a lot of my own personal emotional anguish into a lot of the fics I wrote this year. It's been a rough year for many reasons, and writing out all that angsty hurt/comfort helped a lot

10. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

I think finishing 'what makes a family' was honestly one of the best feelings ever! And the fact that I still get comments on it from time to time about people binge-reading it.

11. What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

I guess I could go with the above, but actually completing whumptober was pretty satisfying.

12. What fic was the most difficult to write?

'i do not love the bright sword for its sharpness' is at the top of this pile. i think about it constantly but actually writing it is proving super difficult, and it remains unfinished...

13. What fic was the easiest to write?

The one for the Pabu Days zine!! I wrote the first draft in just over an hour, and it was about 1k too many words lol

14. What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

of the ones written entirely in this year, 'take a breath before the plunge' wins with its 11k words. If we count just completed this year, 'what makes a family' wins at just shy of 70k

The shortest was one of the whumptober fics, 'where flesh and metal meet'

15. What were your go-to writing songs?

The Horizon games' soundtracks! Less of a song list, but there's too many to put in here.

What was the hardest fic to title?

...all of them. Titling things is the hardest part of writing fics

16. What's your favorite title of the year?

Love and Blood Both Run Red, or maybe Cold But For Your Company

17. Share your favorite opening line

In some way, Tech thinks, it is poetic to die for his family.

From here, at the bottom

18. Share your favorite ending line

He turned, and came face to face with a skull staring back at him. There were holes through the skull, and though everything had been decayed by time, Cal could still see that the skeleton wore Jedi robes.

From then there was nothing

19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue

ooh i don't know! If its humorous then assume its one of my favourites

20. Share your funniest line

see above

21. What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

I think being able to slip back into old fandoms and characters for whumptober was a surprise. it didn't change the story but it was surprisingly quick to get back into things i hadn't touched in years

22. What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

I use microsoft word for all my fics. which isn't great for longform fic and probably why i don't write too much of it

23. If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Again, actually managing to complete whumptober felt really good!! I've never managed to finish a writing challenge like that so it was a really proud moment

24. Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

I don't think I've ever done anything?? Though I am thinking about starting a lil scrapbook of comments or smth like that

25. How did you recharge between fics?

what is this recharge you speak of? I am either possessed by ideas that demand attention or left in a drought of creativity

26. Did you create fanworks other than fic?

I do playlists for myself sometimes. I have ones for Cal, Crosshair, and Omega right now. I constantly wish i had the patience to improve my art skills to do fanart

27. How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

4 if you count febuwhump and whumptober. I'm in a Bad Batch zine that's in preorders right now - Pabu Days, and participating in a fic/art exchange for new years for Twisted Wonderland

28. If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

firstly I'd like to thank my cat for being the one to hear me talk out plot points and details. I'd also like to thank @pennflinn and @breakfastteatime for being both supportive of all my j:fo fics as well as being inspirations themselves in that fandom! And the whole j:fo fandom at large for being awesome and supportive of each other's works. And I need to mention @fanfoolishness for joining me in not one, not two, but THREE! fandoms here!! As well, shoutout to @shadowcrow for yelling on my rook x harding fics! it's a small corner of the fandom but at least it's got you there!

29. What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

Finish this fic for the new years exchange, and get another chapter of Blood and Love Both Run Red up! Though it may only be one of those that happens...

30. What would you like to write next year?

I wanna finish bright sword and get that post nur Merrin fic postable! And since I'm currently consumed by Veilguard I wanna write more of that next year too!

A slightly revised version of last year's questions! Two ways to play: Reblog and have your followers send you numbers, or answer the whole list!

How many fics have you worked on since January?

What’s something new that you tried in a fic this year?

What piece of media inspired you the most? (This can be the fandom you wrote the most for, the one that spawned the most ideas, the one you thought about the most, etc.)

How many fandoms did you write for this year?

What ships captured your heart?

What characters captured your heart?

Did you write for any new fandoms or ships this year?

What fic meant the most to you to write?

What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

What fic was the most satisfying to finish writing?

What fic was the most difficult to write?

What fic was the easiest to write?

What were your shortest and longest fics posted this year?

What were your go-to writing songs?

What was the hardest fic to title?

What's your favorite title of the year?

Share your favorite opening line

Share your favorite ending line

Share your favorite piece of dialogue

Share your funniest line

What's something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

What writing programs did you use? Did you write by hand?

If you had to choose one, what was THE most satisfying writing moment of your year?

Did you do anything special to celebrate finishing a fic?

How did you recharge between fics?

Did you create fanworks other than fic?

How many events did you take part in? (bangs, exchanges, ship weeks, zines, prompt memes, they all count!)

If this were an awards show, who would you thank?

What's left on your to-do list for 2024?

What would you like to write next year?

[scarletemeterio]

Wanting for More (Ekko x gn!reader)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Fandom: Arcane

Summary: Ekko sees you asleep and covers you with a blanket

Word count: 767

•••

You both had lost track of time, that was obvious. You two had been working on something in Ekko's workplace for a few hours, and a while ago you decided to take a break and lie down for a bit.

He'd been really concentrated in his work, but he suddenly realized he hadn't heard you in a while, so he decided to take a look at you, only to find out you'd fallen asleep. He couldn't help but smile at the sight of you, looking so peaceful and dreamy. This wasn't the first time Ekko got lost in his thoughts while staring at you, it was quite common actually, or it had been lately at least.

There was something more than just friendship between you two, you both knew that. But neither of you had the courage to do something about it, and both of you were scared, too. It seemed easier to not act on your feelings and just enjoy the relationship you already had, but the wanting for more was starting to be unbearable for him. He wanted you to be his, as much as he wanted to be yours.

No one understood him like you did, and no one supported him and trusted him like you did. You two had known each other for years now, since you were one of the first ones to join the Firelights, and from that day his life was never the same again. Ekko was genuinely happy when you were around, he saw hope in you, maybe even a future together. When you two were together, he wasn't the Firelights' leader, he was just Ekko, he could relax around you. In a world like yours, having someone like that was a privilege.

He got out of his thoughts when he realized you were curled up into a ball, clearly cold. He quickly got up and looked for a blanket, and when he found it he covered you with it. He got down to your level, next to the bed, and put a strand of hair behind your ear, putting it away from your face and leaving his hand on your shoulder. He smiled again, feeling grateful for having you in his life and being able to share these little moments.

You got a bit startled by his touch and slowly opened your eyes, seeing Ekko at eye level with you.

"Hey," you said in almost a whisper, and he replied with a shy smile. "How long have I been asleep?"

"I have no idea, I just found you a couple minutes ago", he replied, while caressing your shoulder a bit.

You still felt sleepy, but you could see how tired he was, his eyes could never lie, and definitely not to you.

"You should get some sleep, Ekko", you told him. "Here, I'll move so you can fit in here." You did as you said, leaving space for him to hop on the bed and lie down next to you. This wasn't uncommon between the two of you, but lately the tension in these moments had become obvious, even if you tried to ignore it. Still, you were so tired you didn't really care right now, you just wanted to go back to sleep.

"I should keep working."

"Just shut up and come here, working can wait." He was a very self-demanding person, but he knew you were right, so he took off his shoes and did as you said.

You ended up being face to face, and you could feel your heart beating really fast, like it was gonna explode. You closed your eyes and you rested your head on his shoulder. "Thank you for the blanket", you murmured, loud enough for him to hear.

"Anytime", he answered, wrapping his arm around you.

You closed your eyes and enjoyed his warmth and his touch, wishing you could stay like this forever. It didn't take long for you to fall asleep again, and he could tell from the way you were breathing. He gave you a little kiss on the forehead, savouring every second with you in his arms.

"You mean the world to me", he whispered. He imagined sleeping like this every night and couldn't help but smile. He knew life was hard and that the world was dangerous, but he also knew he couldn't live in fear and put a stop to his own life just to help and save others. He knew he had to tell you how he felt, and find a bit of hope with you amongst all the chaos that surrounded you.

•••

okay so this is my first arcane post. i haven't written in a while so i'm a bit rusty and english is not my first language, but i hope you enjoy this!

requests are officially open for arcane characters, you can check my rules in my profile!

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

—PART TWO

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Daddy issues.

Notes: Glad you guys loved the first part despite it being so short.

PART ONE | PART THREE | NAVIGATION

The sunlight passed by the small gaps of the curtains, shining down on the face of a sleeping boy. Light blond hair messy but perfectly framing his beautiful face, red circles on his pale cheeks, a pop of color. He groans as he buries his face underneath the large fluffy white blanket, eventually groaning as he opens his eyes, [e/c] eyes adjusting to the brightness of his room. Sitting up on his queen sized bed that is surrounded by pillows. As much as he wants to sleep in, he has duties as an angel and as the son of [y/n] Caeles.

Getting out of bed, slipping his feet into the fluffy white slippers. He moved across his large room, stopping by a large mirror.

He frowns when sees his reflection, the only thing he can see is his deadbeat father who left his mother for another woman.

He hated it, he could see his supposed father staring back at him through the mirror. The fallen angel, Lucifer staring right back at him. A cruel reminder that he is his father's son.

He's thankful he has her eyes, at least he was able to have a piece of her on him. He hated his father, his mother never hid his father from him and told him everything what he wanted to know. He'd do anything for his mother. He loves her so much.

He knows that his mother often gets sad when he sees him, he knows because she could see the man that hurt her on his face. He doesn't blame her. He hated his face too, despite it being heaven's most beautiful facial features. He wished he had his mother's face instead.

Getting a large robe that was placed on the cushioned chair, draping it over his body. Time to get ready, he has a lot of work to do.

[Y/n] looks up from her newspaper, seeing her son finally entering the dining room, dressed in his military like uniform but in colors of white and gold. She sat on one of the chairs of the dining table, a breakfast already made by yours truly—pancakes and bacon and of course, two cups of steaming black coffee.

[Y/n]'s eyes lit up when she saw her son, “Good morning Xavier, did you sleep well?” she asked with a small smile, watching as the boy sat next to her. Xavier gave his mother a close eyed smile.

“Good morning to you too, mother. You look very beautiful this morning.” he says softly, closing his eyes as he felt his mother's hand ruffle his hair, playfully groaning. “Hey! I just brushed my hair.” Xavier says with a small pout and [y/n] chuckles and places a gentle kiss on the boy's forehead.

“I couldn't help it, my boy is just the sweetest.” [y/n] says and Xavier blushes softly and just chuckles.

“It is because I have the most amazing mother in the whole world, that's why.” he says.

[Y/n] smiled at him, “Oh, you... Aren't you just the sweetest?” she giggled and he just chuckled.

The two made a sign of the cross, praying to say thank you for the blessings they have received. Finishing the prayer, the two finally ate breakfast.

“So you're going to be training with your uncle today?” [y/n] asked, looking at the young man beside her. Xavier nodded, he would be training with Uncle Michael today.

“Yes, mother. I am hoping he can help me improve on how to fight.” He says with a small smile and [y/n] squished the young man's cheek, the latter pouting.

“I know you'll do great, you make me so proud.” [y/n] says softly and Xavier had to try so hard not to cry. He loves it when he makes her happy, his mom deserves the whole world after all.

“Thanks, mom.” he says softly and her eyes soften and they continue to eat breakfast.

After breakfast, Xavier helped his mother clean up the table and offered to wash the dishes. [Y/n] wanted to insist on doing it as she feared it would dirty his suit but the boy insisted. He just rolled up the sleeves and wore an apron.

When he was done doing his morning routine, he walked to the living room to see his mom already dressed for work. His eyes saddened, he won't be seeing her for a couple of days again.

Walking towards his mother, the older woman hugged her son. “Don't miss me too much, dearie.” [y/n] says with a giggle. Her hand rubbing circles on the boy's back.

“I'll try not to. I'm just worried.” Xavier says softly, he doesn't like it when she leaves to go to the mortal realm. He worries for her physically and mentally. Humans, human way of living is very... Mentally unhealthy and he fears it will affect his mother too.

[Y/n] smiled softly, patting the boys light blond hair. “Do not worry about me, Azrael would be there to protect me if needed.” she says with a smile.

With the mention of the angel of death, Xavier sees the older man like a father figure. The man has always been present in his life.

Xavier smiled and nodded, “Alright.”

[Y/n] smiles, “Good luck with training, don't overwork okay? Summon me if you must.” she says sternly as the two finally let go of the hug, her hand was placed on her waist.

Xavier nodded, “I promise and I will make you proud.”

[Y/n] grins, “That's my boy,” she says and snapped her fingers and a portal appeared, “Goodluck kiddo, I'll see you in a few days.” she says softly and places a kiss on his forehead before going inside the portal. The portal closes.

Taking one last look of himself on the mirror, the face of his biological father staring back at him. Xavier rolls his eyes and scoffed. Unrolling his sleeves, adjusting his collar. Unfurling his large and majestic white wings. It's time to train, he promised to become one of heaven's protector and he promised he'll rise the ranks and join his mother.

Training with his uncle went by smoothly, he did lost but at least he learned something. Xavier was flying around heaven, wanting to return home but his eyes landed on a familiar seraphim. Emily, his heart started to beat faster. He always liked the girl, the girl is pretty and kind, okay?

His eyes landed on the person wearing such bright red suit. An eyesore, really. A pop of color in heaven.

Xavier tilted his head and decided to approach the girls.

Emily jumped slightly in surprise, seeing the beautiful and handsome and nonchalant looking young general that is her friend landed beside her gracefully.

Yes, Xavier puts up a front in public. He doesn't want others to know he's a total Mama's boy.

Xavier nodded and gave Emily a gentle smile, “Greetings, Emily. Off to showing off a new soul around?” he asked, voice gentle and calm.

Emily grinned and blushed slightly, nodding. “Not exactly a new resident, just a visitor.” Emily explained and Xavier turned to look at this supposed visitor and he could feel himself freeze slightly.

Who wouldn't freeze when seeing the same face as you but in the opposite gender.

“Xavier, this is Charlotte Morningstar...” Emily says hesitantly, now remembering who's the biological father of the boy.

Xavier's eyes narrowed but was quickly replaced as he gave the new girl a closed eyed smile, a forced one. “Really? So that makes you my half sister then?” Xavier says with a grin and Charlie's whole being froze.

Emily looked at the two nervously, she knows Xavier isn't violent but she does know how the boy hates his biological father to the core.

“... Half sister...?” Charlie asked, her voice in disbelief.

“Indeed! We share the same father. It is a pleasure to meet you, Charlotte.” Xavier says with a grin but his eyes dull, no longer have the usual shine on them. Charlie was nervous, she doesn't know how to act around the boy. She knows he isn't lying because the boy literally looks like her father.

“How rude of me,” Xavier says with a small gasp, “Let me properly introduce myself, I am Xavier Caeles. Son of [y/n] Caeles. It is a pleasure to meet you, dear sister.” he says with a smirk, looking down on the girl (literally because he's taller than her, a trait he is thankful that he inherited from his mother. Good Lord, he would be miserable if he had his father's height), offering his hand for a handshake which the girl hesitantly and nervously returned.

“It is nice to meet you too... Xavier..” she says and Xavier grins, Emily just looked at the two nervously. Thanking that a fight nor an argument haven't started yet.

“It was a pleasure meeting you but I must go, I still have far more important matters to attend to. Emily, I'll catch up to you later.” Xavier says with a small smile, turning his back from the two girls.

Before he flies away, he stopped. Not bothering to look at his half sister, “Tell our dear father I said hi, okay? Farewell.” he says, not a single emotion in his voice. He quickly spreads his wings and flew off.

“Stars... I didn't expect to see my half sister today..” Xavier murmurs to himself as he flies back home.

Meanwhile, Charlie stood in disbelief next to Emily. Turning around to look at the Seraphim, “Was he really my...?” Charlie asked hesitantly and Emily nodded with a small sad smile, “Yes but it's not my story to tell.” Emily explained softly and Charlie nodded.

“Let us just continue showing you around, yeah?” Emily says softly and the princess of hell nodded.

Emily knows that Xavier's interest has been piqued. She knows he'll be there during the meeting now that he knows his half sister is going to be there.

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @cadelinhadochoso

Taglist:

[multimousefanatic]

For a show that hinges upon its audiences’ adoration for identity porn, there is far too much unexplored potential for secret identity shenanigans for my liking. I want to see more Multimouse and Chat Noir. But I also want to see Multimouse and Adrien. Multimouse and Aspik. Multimouse and Cat Walker. Marinette and Aspik. Marinette and Cat Walker.

I know the fandom loves to hate on Aspik but I think it would be so fun to see him and Multimouse interact. JUST IMAGINE IT okay? BOTH of them are gonna be awkward AF and internally spiraling bc they have to pretend to not know the others identity AND act like they’re not absolutely head over heels for them. They literally both know the others identity but have to pretend they don’t in order to hide their OTHER secret identity like HDBDBDJDNDJCHHC

And like, imagine Cat Walker working with Multimouse? And like he can tell that Marinette kind of has a thing for Cat Walker and he doesn’t quite know how to feel about that until Plagg points out that it’s the third version of him she’s fallen for and he suddenly feels very okay with it

Or Multimouse sees Adrien and she reverts back to nervous-clumsy-stumbles over her words Marinette because she’s overthinking the whole secret identity thing but Adrien KNOWS she’s Marinette so he totally clocks that behavior and thinks it’s the cutest thing ever but also he acts completely oblivious and does everything he can to help her calm down and act natural

And then Marinette and Aspik? Similar vibe except maybe Adrien’s trying a little too hard to look cool in front of Marinette which gets her to laugh because she KNOWS he’s trying to impress her and it helps her to calm down and stop overthinking the fact that she has to pretend not to know who he is, and he loves that she’s laughing, but that’s not really what he’s going for so he ends up using second chance to redo the moment over and over & he can’t figure out what he’s doing wrong or what Marinette thinks is so funny

[rose-pearls]

Ciao potresti fare Luke castellan x fem reader dove il lettore fa ingelosire Luke ? Grazie !

Hi! I loved this request so here it is! Hopefully you like it :))

I am also thinking of writing for Clarisse so if you have any request you can always send them!

Request: a Luke x reader where the reader makes Luke jealous

Main taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187, @nyx2021, @thestarspangledcaptain, @kmc1989 (open for every fandom)

The Camp had been plain chaos in the last few days, the reason for that was capture the flag. The infamous game had taken place yesterday and the blue team had once again won, with Annabeth as your leader. The girl was smart, but you also had the best swordman on her team.

Luke Castellan. You had fallen for the boy the moment you met him, but he never seemed to reciprocate the feelings. He was handsome, everyone with eyes could see that but he was also kind and sweet. He had helped you a lot when you arrived, feeling lost until your mother, Athena claimed you. After being claimed the two of you still talked a little bit but not as much.

“Oh, Luke you are so funny.”, you hear Claire say as she starts to giggle and curling a whisp of hair around her finger. The boy soaks up the attention of course, smirking back at her.

“I can see you glaring at her, maybe try to be more subtle,” you hear Annie say, making you look at her and let out a groan.

“I know, I really am an idiot, right? To believe that something could happen with him,” the younger girl looks conflicted at your words, but you shake your head.

“There you two are, I have been looking for you everywhere,” Percy says as he drops on the seat next to Annabeth, making the two of you looking at him with wide eyes.

“We are literally at a table in the middle of the camp, how hard can it be to find us?”, Annie asks him, and you can’t help but laugh quietly as the two of them start to bicker again, they really were like an old married couple.

You hear the same annoying giggle once again and try not to smash your potatoes even harder, but the jealousy seems to be reaching a boiling point. It was stupid to feel like this, particularly when nothing had happened between you and the Hermes boy. The girl was also a daughter from Aphrodite, she was stunning.

The clearing of a throat makes you look up and you find Annie and Percy looking at you with equally worried gazes.

“What?”, you can’t help but ask, feeling self-conscious at the stares.

“I think that you just mashed these potatoes even more then I thought was possible,” Annie says, and you look at your previously mashed potatoes who were now looking a bit liquid.

“Remind me to never be on your bad side,” Percy says, and you shake your head in response, a sigh leaving your lips.

“Sorry, I just had something on my mind,” you tell them, hoping that the two of them would drop the subject but you were in front of Annie and Percy, so it wasn’t going to happen.

“Is that something, the blond Aphrodite daughter hanging off Luke’s arm?”, Percy asks, and Annabeth slaps him with a glare making him look at her with wide eyes.

“It is. Don’t get me wrong I’m sure she is a great girl but yes, it is them on my mind and her giggling every five seconds,” you tell them, making the two of them looking at you in sympathy. 

“Why don’t you make him jealous?”, Percy asks, and both Annabeth and you turn to look at the boy with wide eyes.

“Wait what?”, you can’t help but ask, waiting for some more explanation.

“It doesn’t seem like Luke is really interested in the conversation they are having, but every time he sees you turn around, he flashes her a dazzling smile. So, play his game and show him that you can also flirt with other people,” Annabeth looks unhappy with Percy’s answer, but you can’t help but think it through, maybe it would show you if he could possibly be interested or not.

“You’re right,” you say suddenly, cutting off the two.

“Wait what?”

“Really?”, Percy can’t help but ask before a proud smile appears on his lips, making Annie scoff.

“You can’t really be entertaining his stupid idea!”, you say but you shrug your shoulders.

“I need to know if he is interested or not, otherwise I’ll turn crazy. This way I know and if he isn’t I can move on,” you tell her calmly while she looks at you with wide eyes.

“I can’t believe you are doing this,” she says, and you roll your eyes at her words.

“We can’t all have a Percy looking at us with puppy dog eyes,” you tell her with a wink, while the boy seems to wake up from his gazing, a scarlet brush coating his cheeks.

“Now, the only thing I need to find is the person to make Luke jealous with,” Annabeth sighs but a playful smirk is playing on her lips.

“I know one person that will drive him mad,” this makes both Percy, and you turn to look at her.

“Who?”, Percy and you ask at the same time.

“Max, from the Apollo cabin. They arrived at the same time and there has always been some kind of rivalry between the two of them,” the whispers as the three of you are huddled together to prevent someone overhearing. 

“Wait, isn’t that the guy who nearly beat Luke with the sword?”, Percy asks, and you try to remember the last time there was a contest.

“Keyword, nearly,” Annabeth says, still Luke’s number one supporter.

“That is perfect!”, you say and the two of them look at you with suspicious eyes.

“What do you mean?”, Percy asks after a moment.

“I’m going to ask Max for some pointers on my sword fighting, that way I can get close to him for a reason, and it is also something that will get Luke’s attention.”

“He will go crazy seeing Max giving you some directions,” Annabeth says, looking unsure but there is a sparkle of mischief in her eyes.

“Alright team let’s get this quest on the road,” Percy says excitedly, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Now you are going to Max and the both of us will make sure that Luke is watching!”, Percy tells you as he starts pushing you off your seat.

“Good luck!”, Annie yells and you glare at her as a few campers look at you.

You try to nervously put your shirt right and your hair a bit better before telling yourself that this was ridiculous and just marching towards Max.

“Max, hi,” the boy turns to look at you, he looks surprised but then again you never really talked.

“Hi, what brings you here?”, he asks kindly, and you let out a nervous laugh.

“You are probably going to think that I am crazy, but I need some tips on sword fighting? I’m not really the best with the sword and capture the flag is in a few weeks.”, you tell him, feeling suddenly incredible stupid.

The boy seems unsure for a moment before a charming smile comes up.

“Of course, I’ll try to help you in the best way I can. Although I must say I’m surprised that you didn’t asked Luke for some pointers,” you knew he was going to ask this, after all you had never really interacted with him.

“Well, he is quite busy, you know knew kids coming in, the Hermes cabin and then Claire,” you say and Max nods in understanding.

“Lucky for you I have all afternoon,” he says, suddenly closer than he had been before, making you look up into his dazzling blue eyes.

“Here’s your sword,” he whispers, and you clear your throat before taking it.

“Thank you!”, you say, trying to keep your voice normal but it comes out a little squeaky.

--

“This is even better than a movie,” Percy says while Groover nods in agreement.

“Athena girl has enough of the Hermes boy flirting with other girls, so she goes and take a chance on an Apollo boy. Will the Hermes boy realize what he is losing, or will she end up with the Apollo boy?”, Groover whispers and Percy snorts at the words, while Annabeth shakes her head, a smile on her lips.

“Well looks like we won’t have to wait too long how that will end.”, she says as she sees Luke marching, or stomping, towards the two teenagers who had been talking. She had seen Luke looking at her half-sister for some time now but as Max put his hands on her waist to put her in position it seemed too much for Luke.

“And there goes the Hermes boy!”, Percy whispers, the three of them looking with avid attention.

“What in the Gods name are you three watching like a television show? And is that popcorn?”, Clarisse says, for once not looking like she wants to murder them.

“We are watching that show,” Groover says while pointing at Luke arriving towards the two others.

“Oh shit, this is going to be good. Move your little asses I want front row to Max getting his ass beaten,” Clarisse says with a smirk, but not before stealing some popcorn.

“It is getting heated,” Annabeth says, feeling unsure for once at the decision she made of letting you go towards the Apollo boy.

“Luke tries to push him but no of course she gets between them.”, Clarisse says, looking disappointed that the Hermes boy hadn’t slapped the Apollo kid. 

Max tries to put his hand on your shoulder while speaking but before he can Luke brings you to his side, putting you behind him and glaring at the boy in front of him.

“Touch her again and this time I will cut your hand off,”, they hear Luke say in a warning tone making them all let out a collective gasp.

“Get him Castellan!”, Clarisse yells suddenly, making the three teenagers look into your direction.

“Shit he saw us, time to go!”, Percy yells and the four manage to scramble away before the Hermes boy can turn his frustration towards them.

--

“Luke, will you calm down please. He was just giving me pointers.”, she says for the second time, but he can’t find it himself to calm down.

The boy had his hands on her, and he can’t stop seeing his flirty smile and her shy one.

“Fine. I’ll leave you two then.”, he says, feeling so angry that he just wants to rip everything to shreds.

“Common, Luke,” he hears her say and silently he hopes that she is following him, and that she didn’t chose to stay with the idiot.

He feels her hand on his arm and stops as she lets out a sigh.

“Will you stop and talk for a moment?”, she says, and he takes a deep breath before turning around.

“Don’t you have a sword lesson to follow?”, he says, unable to hide the sarcasm at the words.

“I simply asked him because you were too busy flirting with Claire,” the name of the Aphrodite girl is said with a certain disdain, that Luke recognizes all too well from his own thoughts about Max.

“Are you jealous?”, the girl scoffs but Luke can’t help the wide smile that appears at her embarrassment.

“Like you weren’t just throwing a hissy fit over there for the whole camp,” she bites back and Luke chuckles in response, getting closer to her.

“I was jealous, I can openly admit that. Nearly wanted to rip his head from his body for barely touching your waist,” he admits, watching her eyes widen in surprise and with something else. 

“Fine, I was jealous about Claire and the attention you were giving her,” she says, looking like she wanted to say anything but that. Luke smiles as he gets even closer to her and brings his arm around her waist, making her look at him in surprise.

“I wasn’t interested in her, I just wanted to see how you reacted to me talking with her and I have to say it was quite the show,” the girl looks at him with wide eyes.

“You dick! I thought you were interested in her!”, she exclaims, and Luke can’t help but laugh at her words.

“How could I be interested in her when I have you in the back of my mind all the time,” he whispers, smelling her perfume as he got even closer to her.

“Good thing I haven’t been able to think about anyone else either,” she whispers back, and Luke can’t help but feel revived at the words.

“Max?”, he asks, wanting to make sure that she wasn’t just confused.

“It was a plan to make you jealous,” she whispers, her cheeks heating up in embarrassment and after a moment Luke realizes what she just said.

“You little minx, and I thought you were innocent!”, the words make her laugh as she curls her arms around his neck.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. Although it was fun to see you act all protective over me,” she whispers while biting her lip and Luke can’t help but look at her soft lips. 

“You drive me crazy darling,” he tells her before bringing her into a kiss, he holds her waist tightly and lets out a soft moan as she cards her fingers through his hair.

Unbeknownst to them five other campers are celebrating behind the trees.

“I told you this would work!”, Percy says, and Annabeth can’t help but agree.

“I thought he was going to rip my head off,” Max says, and the others snort in response.

“You were lucky she was there buddy,” Groover says while patting Max on the back.

“I don’t know about you guys but watching them kiss is not really my thing, let’s move out,” the others quickly agree at Annabeth’s words and leave their hiding place to go to the lake, leaving the two lovebirds alone.

[joontroverted]

kiss it better (nsfw)

husband! ran haitani x wife reader

fandom : tokyo revengers

word count : 2.9k

cw : anal beads, anal fingering, vaginal fingering, penetrative sex, daddy kink, reader is a brat, impregnantion talk, fluff! this is a sweet fic, i'll have you know 😤

twitter porn that inspired me!

video

happy reading!

ran comes home late often enough that it's not an issue.

his schedule is erratic. he doesn't work every single night, but when he's called to work he's gone, and almost unreachable too. and he's definitely coming home late on those days.

between the two of you (two sleepy people) he knows it's no hard feelings to come home to you fast asleep. he just strips off, does a quick shower, speedruns through his unskippable skin care routine and settles into bed with you. one arm snaked around your waist and into your panties, two fingers in your warm pussy, and he's out like a light.

it's a fun routine.

but you miss him.

sure, you have the sleepy mornings and the evenings filled with wine and whichever new little snack ran had flown in from God knows where, but you missed the nights.

the nights of opening your arms and legs for your man, undressing him, tumbling around in bed till you're both sore and filthy and then hopping in the tub for another round- ahem, a bath.

so tonight's the night!

you're adorned in a light blue lingerie set, the type that highlights your titties and has a crotchless panties. your usual home clothes are thrown on on top of this sexy get up because of the chill from the ac, and even though you've fought back many a yawn, the moment you hear scuffling and the beep of the lock, you throw off your loose clothes and position yourself spread across the sofa.

you watch as ran staggers into the foyer, stumbling, stifling a yawn. he makes a beeline past the hall and straight to the master bedroom without paying you even the slightest glance.

you sit there dumbfounded.

you can hear him tossing off his clothes, washing his face and finally turning the lamp by the nightstand on to do his skin care before he realises you're not in bed.

"sweetheart?"

you hear him jog out of the room, turn the corner and seeing you sitting on the sofa, all (sex) dolled up, and glaring holes into him.

"what are you- oh," he stops, eyes taking you in. "oh honey, come here," he calls you, spreading his arms.

you stare at him and get up, and walk past him to your bedroom.

"honey? honey! baby, i'm so sorry, it's so late and it's been such a long day, this has nothing to do with- "

"literally die," you mutter, clambering onto the bed.

"are you wearing those crotchless panties?"

"die! go hang out with your precious besties! die!" you hiss, wrapping the blankets around yourself and settling in.

"baby- "

"i don't want to hear one fucking word ran haitani."

you shut your eyes, turning your face into the pillow, tears of anger stinging behind your shut eyelids. god, this was so humiliating more than anything. you were so excited, and the worst part is you can't even blame him, you know how tiring his days can get.

you hear him slowly sit down on the bed and turn the lamp off. no skincare, nothing, and he settles into bed next to you, almost spooning you, but giving you some space.

you feel his hand come up to stroke your hair.

"good night angel."

something's keeping you up.

you can't put a finger on what it is exactly.

you twist around and see ran fast asleep next to you, no doubt too exhausted to even pleade his case with you. his hand is on your pillow, having fallen asleep while stroking your hair. you had fallen asleep too, but something woke up you up around twenty minutes ago, and you can't seem to figure out what.

the temperature of the room is perfect. chill, but not cold. the blankets aren't too heavy to make you hot. you aren't hungry and you just took a few sips of water some time back when you had woken up.

so what is it?

do you miss ran? do you miss the contact of him spooning you?

no... not that you wouldn't miss it, but more like you and ran moved around in bed a lot while you sleep so you aren't always touching each other.

no, this is something more related to your body.

for a second you wonder if you're secretly pregnant.

no.

you press a hand on your stomach. you feel like you're close to the problem, because now you can zero in on something inside you being wrong, but pregnant? no. not even food poisoning, you didn't eat anything disagreeable.

something inside you...

"ran. ran!"

you shake him, and if you weren't so taken aback, you would've stopped to admire how gorgeous he is. his purple and black hair fans out on his forehead, and his chest gently rises and falls. he really could be a model, his strong angular jaw and his angelic features uniting masculinity and femininity to create such beauty.

"ran!" you smack him across his face with your pillow.

"what, what, fuck!" he shouts, rising up to his elbows, his eyes flitting over you. his hands immediately roam over you before his eyes adjust to the dark to make sure that you're in one piece and not hurt in any way.

"wha' happened," he says gruffly, sitting up this time, his hands still on your waist protectively.

you falter, seeing how protective he is of you, and how much sexier he sounds with his voice deeper from sleep.

you bite your lip. "hi."

"what the fuck happened," he blinks at you slowly, like he can't believe this situation. he's just been forced awake by his panicked little wife who had just been screaming and now you're sitting pretty, hair mussed, bra strap sliding off your shoulder, eyes wide, looking ditzy.

"um, nothing much. what's up with you?" you shrug, looking down.

"i'm going to count to three- "

he doesn't even have to finish his sentence for you to start talking. you know all too well what happens when he counts to three.

"so you know how i dressed up for you and then you so very rudely ignored me?"

"i apologized for that, and you told me to die."

"yeah, that."

he stares at you. "and?" he prompts.

"i didn't actually want you to die."

that makes him crack a little smile. "why thank you. that's one less person now. unfortunately the list's a bit too long for me to be in the clear, honey."

you scrunch up your face at that. ran's a terrible person. you forget that sometimes. his worst crime is probably torture and homicide, not kicking your plushie off the bed.

"was that all?" he asks, thumb stroking your waist. "can we sleep now?"

"no," you say firmly. and then you mumble something.

"what?"

"there's something inside me."

"what did all those creampies pay off," he laughs. "wait a minute, did they?" his face morphs into horror.

"no, jesus. this is less scary."

"just spit it out already!"

"fine! when i was waiting for you, i..." you shift. "um i stuffed myself with some... beads," you trail off, nodding, glad that the lights are off, so he can't see you clearly.

ran leans to the nightstand and flicks the lamp on, making eye contact with you. well there goes decency. he looks at you, his face a mix of disbelief and criticism. "you stuffed yourself with some beads."

you nod again, unable to look at him.

he grabs your face and forced you closer. "you stuffed yourself with the anal beads i bought you and told you that i would help you with."

"i wanted to surprise you okay?"

"and then you fell asleep with them inside you. who was that for? the icu when they surgically remove them from you? what if i couldn't come home tonight?"

"fine!" you pull yourself away from him. he had spent his entire life being both a brother and a father to rindou that when he brought up his stern voice he could be so goddamn condescending. "i'll do it myself then! i don't need your help anyways!"

you most definitely did need his help.

and that's why you find yourself laid on your tummy between ran's spread legs, him having pulled your hips towards him, ass facing him, legs locked around his back. your bra was tossed to the side, and your crotchless panties dangle from your ankle in sad defeat.

ran had sat back quietly, arms folded as he watched you try to pull the beads out. he didn't say a word, but watched you seriously, as though he were a teacher watching his student helplessly mess up an equation even further. the scrutiny sure didn't help, and only made you more tense.

you sniffle.

"and whose fault is it that you're in this position, huh?"

"yours."

you get a sharp slap on your left asscheek.

"it's my fault! i'm sorry!"

you can't see him, but you're sure he's enjoying this. ran's rather laidback and chill, but all of that is made up for with how much of a stern disciplinarian he is in situations like this.

he pulls your ass closer and your pussy settles on his crotch, feeling his thick and hard cock beneath his boxers. you snicker.

"what was that for, slut?" he asks, giving you a harsh pinch on your other cheek.

you squeal and kick your feet. "nothing. just nice to know you missed me too."

"hmm," he hums, taking you in.

you really are the stupidest little girl in the world. of course he misses you. he'd be mad not to. the light of his life. he loves his job, but he's been liking it less and less as it eats up all the time he keeps especialy for you. he's missed too many meetings and too many trips just to spend an evening watching a movie with you or a weekend away with you. and here you are, pitching a fit because apparently he doesn't miss you anymore.

as much as he chides you for your carelessness, it's landed his beautiful wife face down ass up, stuffed full in her ass with purple anal beads. all that could be seen of it was the glinting sea pearl that hung out like a charm from the base, with the backdrop of your pretty little pucker behind it.

he grabs the base and gives a little tug, causing you to yelp.

"you need to relax honey," he mutters, rubbing your back.

"well you're not helping with that," you grumble.

he rolls his eyes. he reaches for the lube and sees the half empty bottle and can't help but think about how much lube you had emptied within yourself trying to get it in in the first place, a finger pushing each bead in while the other hand poured lube on your gaping hole. his cock jumps at the image of that.

"hmm, what how can we get you to relax, huh? would a spanking work? you get pretty brainless from a good spanking, don't you honey? i was meaning to give you one in the morning just because of how you behaved with me."

you kick at the thought of that, heat filling your face, pussy pulsing at the thought. yes, unfortunately ran had trained you into taking his spankings well, but that would tense you up too much, and he knew that. he's just doing this to rile you up.

ran smirks as he watches your pussy squeeze around nothing, dampening. he's trained you well.

"but on second thought, maybe you need something more humiliating. you think i'm just wasting time hanging out with my guys at work, huh? how 'bout i handcuff you over the table with your panties pullled down, huh? so all the bad, bad men i work with can remind you of how tough this job is, huh?"

"no!" you whine, pushing your ass out. "no!"

he watches your pussy get wetter and wetter. he massages your lubed up hole with two fingers and slips two fingers inside you. you really were a sick girl. his sick girl.

"o- ohhh," you moan, as his thick, long fingers sink deeper inside you.

in and out, up and down. all while teases your asshole into opening. his finger swipe further and hurther in, scissoring before they finally curl down and hit your g spot.

"ran! ran! please, please, more!"

and that's when he slows down.

the rhythm he had built up slows down into a gentle massaging on your g spot.

"ran, what the hell? you're so- "

you falter as a another feeling takes over. an insistent pushing from in the inside of your hole.

plop!

"there we go," says ran, and you can hear the smile in his voice. " there's my big girl."

the first bead popped out, shiny and glossy, warm from your insides, lube dripping down it. your hole closes up again, and he presses down on your g spot again, causing you to let out a strangled cry.

"another one sweetheart," he coos, "relax for me?"

plop!

the second one pops out as your mind is lost from both the sensations. the bliss from having your g spot massaged combined with the odd pleasure that's coming from him playing with your hole.

plop!

"oh, there's another one," you murmur, dazed.

"my big girl can count can't she," he laughs. he sure has the fucking audacity. "last two honey."

you push your ass out and get onto your knees, chest pressed on the bed. he snickers at your eagerness and drives his fingers deeper in you, stroking away.

plop!

you feel lighter, both inside and in your head. you can't believe that for all your complaining, you're spending the night with your husband yanking anal beads out of your asshole. not even in a sexy way particularly. for the sake of not having a medical emergency.

"last one angel," he kisses you ass cheek. "can you do that for me?"

"uh huh."

"what do you say?"

"yes daddy," you keen as his fingers push deeper in you again. you feel his lips a feather light kiss on your perineum, and you can blush from how soft it feels.

he watches as the last bead slowly pushes it's way out of your hole with a final little plop!

watching your pretty hole gao almost sets something primal off in ran, and with a low growl he gets on his knee, one leg braced against the bed. he lowers his boxers and brings his heavy cock out that he had neglected for a little too long. the grinding of your pussy on his crotch wasn't nearly enough for what his eyes were feasting on.

the thick head of his tip slaps against your sloppy pussy and you whine, finally getting a taste of what you've been missing.

"give it to me ran, i've been waiting for too long."

"i know pretty, i've been gone for too long these days, haven't i?"

he pushes in, and that familiar feeling of being filled is back. you husband is back.

"daddy," you cry in ecstacy as his tip finally reaches the deepest it can go. "i love you."

"daddy's home honey," he pants, having mounted you finally, and now driving into to you. "i love you."

the pace picks up and you're boneless as ran's firm grip on your waist is all that's holding you up. he slams into you, his cock hitting all the right places as he leans down and covers all of you, holding you tight.

"i'm sorry angel, i'm sorry i haven't been home lately. but it's all for you, yeah. it's all so i can give you a beautiful life and make you a mama one day, nice and plump and spoiled."

"ohhh!" that sends a wave through you. "you wanna make me a mama?"

"yeah honey, you'll be a good mama, won't you? perfect girl?"

"yes, yes daddy," you cry, "i'm cumming, gonna come!"

"come for me angel," he pushes into you one final time, and you come together. the orgasm hits you like a tidal wave, causing you to sink under bliss as you feel him filling you up to the brim with his thick, warm cum.

he bites the crook of your neck and coos as he watches you shake underneath him.

"my wife," he whispers, pressing kisses down your neck. "my beautiful silly wife. i always miss you. i love you."

he turns you over, and you immediately twist your limbs into each others'. you smile as you look into his eyes, his hair still untouched despite it all. you reach out and mess it up, causing him to laugh and kiss your wrist.

"i love you," you mutter. "and i know you love spending time with me. i was just frustrated... and in need of a rough night with you. i don't actually want you to die."

"i know." he nods, giving you little kisses. "i'm the luckiest man alive to have a wife who loves me so much she stuffed herself full of the anal beads i told her not to use without me."

"my hole is sore," you groan as he nuzzles against your chest.

"bend over, i'll kiss it better."

reblogs, tagging, comments, likes and asks are HIGHLY APPRECIATED!!!

read my other tokyo revengers fic -

bully baji x popular reader fic

all right heathens. this one's done. pls hop on anon/asks and tell me i'm not alone in my insanity and you're this horny for this man too ❤️

[liulith]

We as a fandom need to open our hearts to the insane comedic potential of Sir Pentious being included as a background character in stories taking place in the "old days" before Vox and Alastor's falling out. AND the comedic potential of one-sided Sir Pentious -> Vox.

Why?

Canon!Sir Pentious is attached to his era's aesthetics but he also wants to be "hip and cool" (see pilot episode; Sir Pentious as the how do you do fellow kids meme) and join the "Almighty Vees". When did he start wanting that? He's not a media demon trying to keep up with his audience and be a likeable public figure. He's a mechanic trying to conquer Hell by force thanks to his machines and obviously relishes in acting like a villain (fear me! I'm so evil! I'm the architect of destruction! etc. etc).

This is very different from the Vees' approach - maintaining a perfect public image, insidious manipulation tactics... Vox threatens Alastor in the show, but the Vees clearly haven't built their power through turf wars, which is and has always been Pentious' one and only strategy. All the machines we've seen him make are war weapons (+ the Egg Boyz who do his bidding, and help him operate those very weapons). Voxtek probably sells weaponry too but that is more Camilla's domain, so it would be more logical for Pentious to try and join her.

Pentious' and the Vees agenda and interests aren't aligned, so why is Pentious so desperate to join the Vees?

there are many reasons why Pentious could want to be part of the Vees besides the one I'm gonna talk about but you know what MY agenda is:

Vox is Pentious' idol. Pentious is an inventor, an innovator. He would have loved waking up in Hell with a mechanical body he can upgrade however he wants and finds the whole concept fascinating.

He's not against new technology, as his creations clearly go beyond what people could have had invented in his time despite their "steampunk" aesthetic (see: the effing death ray). So I think his current "limitations" are more a matter of him having to stick with what he knows best because it's hard to keep up with the constant stream of new tech. This is why he's more than impressed with Vox's extraordinary ability to adapt to change and master new technologies again and again. He's a fellow innovator! That's one reason for Pentious to be obsessed with the guy.

And if you think obsessed isn't the right word, think about this: Sir Pentious repeatedly challenges Alastor to fights even though he's clearly outmatched and it's an incredible risk to take considering what Alastor does. Pentious is OLDER than Alastor, he was there when he broadcast the most powerful Overlords' scream all over Hell. Plus, losing always leaves him in a very vulnerable position (without his best weapons). Is it madness? Hubris? An obsession for Alastor? No!

Sir Pentious to Alastor: Silence! Now Cower! For when I've slain you, the Almighty Vees will finally acknowledge me!

Sir Pentious thinks defeating Alastor is the only way the Vees will finally acknowledge him. No matter how dangerous it is, he has to try, for the Vees (Vox). Just like he took the risk of angering the Princess of Hell to get in Vox's good graces. This says a lot, for someone as paranoid as him, who doesn't trust anyone who is "too nice" to him.

If Hazbin had more episodes there should have been one about Pentious struggling with the fact he disappointed his idol and told to KHS 👀

(btw this is old news but we know that one of the Hazbin episodes that Viv originally pitched was about a science contest organized by Voxtek in which Pentious and Baxter competed against each other! Pentious could have done that after ep2!)

Anyway, back to the comedic potential of it all & Vox's arrival in Hell. Can you imagine his reaction as a newly fallen Sinner, when he's hanging out with Alastor (aka following him like a lost puppy?) and he meets Sir Pentious for the first time? Like sure, Hell is full of insane people but Alastor obviously has a Reputation and no one ever challenges him. And suddenly... Hm... Alastor?? There's an airship with a giant cannon pointed right as us?? Firing a DEATH RAY?!

It's also so funny to imagine Sir Pentious being obsessed with Alastor and considering him his archnemesis back in the day, only to slowly become obsessed with Vox instead and only caring about defeating Alastor because he thinks Vox will like it. It starts with Sir Pentious trying to "gather intel" on Alastor's new "ally", spying on them or sending his Egg Boyz to do so (and we already know great he is at spying so you can guess how that goes lol), and the rest is history.

Alastor loves attention so he probably let Pentious spy on him behind bushes from time to time if only because it's very entertaining to watch him try to be discrete and make his shadow tap on his shoulder. How hilarious would it be if Alastor noticed Sir Pentious' growing crush on Vox but not Vox's crush on him? Also, Vox misunderstanding Pentious and Alastor's relationship and thinking Pentious is a weird obsessive ex... The world is a stage and the stage is a world of entertainment!

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | November 11th-17th 2024

Just an FYI, I have an account over at BlueSky at epicficrecs!

Also!! I just passed 300 different fic writers and podficcers recced since the beginning of this blog! 🥳 thank you all for your hard work and your invaluable contributions to this fandom!

Complete

indulgence by coldbam/ @coldbam (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together, PWP | 1K | Explicit): “Okay. I’ll be right back.” Eddie gets off the couch, leaning down to collect their empties from the table, putting himself right into Buck’s line of sight, eyes catching on— “Oh,” Buck says, as his finger connects to the back of Eddie’s right thigh. He didn’t even register moving, but he sees it right in front of him. He forces his hand back to his own body. “I’ve never seen that before,” he continues, referring to the small dark splotch on Eddie’s skin that’s transfixed him. It’s just—there’s not a lot that Buck doesn’t know about Eddie by now. Not a lot he hasn’t seen.

Clarity by xylodemon/ @xylodemon (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together | 1,7K | Explicit): As soon as they kissed, a thousand things had fallen into place—jokes and shoulder bumps and wordless exchanges, movies and zoo trips and engine rides spend thigh to thigh. In that moment, Buck had realized with absolute clarity what Tommy meant when he said he wouldn't be Buck's last. Because Buck's last is Eddie. It was always going to be Eddie.

never seen a bluer sky by Chash/ @ponyregrets (S8E6: Confessions Coda, Pre-Buddie | 2K | Teen): "Hey, what brings you joy?" Eddie is expecting some waffling in Buck's response. Maybe some suspicion. It's a weird thing to ask, obviously. Joy isn't a word he uses much, isn't a go-to. But even if what makes you happy is a more normal question, it's not right. He needs something deeper. And of course there's the Tommy of it all. Buck hasn't exactly been mourning or anything, but he's obviously down. It wouldn't be unreasonable for him to say that nothing is bringing him joy at the moment. It's not a particularly joyful time. But Buck doesn't hesitate, doesn't question. He just says, "The ocean," and doesn't even ask why Eddie wants to know.

all eyes on me, your illusionist by thelonggoodbye (Different First Meeting AU | 2K | Teen): Eddie doesn't like magic. He's just fond of this one magician, is all.

The Billy Boils Breakup Anthem by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (S8E5: Masks Fix-It | 2K | General): Buck gets dumped. Then he gets cursed.

just soothes the soul by rainbow_nerds/ @rainbow-nerdss (S8E6: Confessions Coda, Pre-Buddie | 2K | Mature): It’s quiet, apart from the music still playing over the speakers, Old Time Rock and Roll fading out, another equally upbeat song starting right after. The contrast of it is what gets to Buck. Whatever Eddie had been doing when Buck showed up, he’d seemed… different, than he’s been lately. Buck turns his head to look at Eddie properly. "You shaved."

safe haven by my_hopeless_opus (Established Buddie, Fluff | 3K | Teen): People pleaser Evan Buckley learns how to be the little spoon.

The Thanksgiving Trap by scarmaddiewrites (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Chris POV | 3K | Teen): Chris has got to get out of Texas. He has a plan!

Clouds Ain’t Leakin No Rain by vampirebuckley (Post-S8E6: Confessions, PWP | 3K | Explicit): “Tommy dumped me.” “Oh. Uhm. I’m sorry, Buck.” “Yeah, me too.” “Do you want to talk about it?” Eddie grimaces as the words leave his mouth. Buck sighs, again. Slumps back on the couch. “Not particularly.” “Okay then. No talking. Do you want to drink about it?”

these hands had to let it go free (and this love came back to me) by bibuckdiaz (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together | 3K | Mature): Buck comes to Eddie's house after Tommy breaks up with him. They have a lot to discuss and to confess to each other. Eddie finally lets himself feel joy, in more ways than one. or: Catholic guilt, repressed memories, and the joyful ordeal of being in love with your best friend.

i could take you (to have and to hold) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (S8E6: Confessions | 3K | General): Eddie goes to the cemetery, and he lets Shannon go. He lets her rest. And he shaves his moustache off. And he sits on his couch in his empty house and looks at a picture of Christopher and thinks I'm going to get him back And then Buck texts him. Broke up with Tommy. Beer (OR: eddie goes to church, buck breaks up with tommy, and things finally start to make sense)

ditch the clown, get the crown by sparkagrace/ @ohhsodebonair (Post-S8E6: Confession, Lakers Game Date | 3K | Teen): Eddie and Buck go to the Lakers game. They don't expect the kiss cam.

Happiness is a Bottle of Juice by scarmaddiewrites (Post-S8E7: Hotshots, Pre-Buddie | 4K | Mature): Eddie decides it’s time for him to go and get Christopher from Texas, sees something he shouldn’t, and has a conversation about juice.

🔥like sugar in my soul (how sweet it is to be loved by you) by granadas (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together | 4K | Mature): “I kind of have a sweet tooth,” Eddie admits. “It was easier when we were a little broke. I took my coffee black because I was always in a rush to my next shift, and we were scraping by, so any juice and sweets I bought were for Chris.” “So what changed?” Eddie’s finally looking at him, and he flushes. “I’m just trying this new thing,” he says, “where I stop punishing myself. I’m trying to be… nice to myself, I guess. For once. Like, showing myself that the world isn’t going to end if I do something just for me.” Or: Eddie is making changes to his life. Buck panics, until he doesn't.

The Five Deaths of Dorothy Diaz by thelonggoodbye (Established Buddie, Future Fic | 4K | Teen): Eddie buys a plant. Buck and Christopher are determined to keep him from finding out he keeps killing it.

Last and Forever by Kwills91/ @kwills91 (S8E6: Confessions Coda, Pre-Buddie | 5K | Teen): “I thought I needed to be punished. For what happened with Kim. I thought that’s what I deserved.” Buck wants to protest—say that’s not true—but Eddie knows him well enough to level him with a look that tells him not to before he even opens his mouth. “It didn’t feel like enough, what he asked me to do. So I left. And then I ran into him at this juice place. He noticed that I swapped the juice for water. Told me I was denying myself joy. Called me on being scared of being a failure, and about the mustache being a disguise.” “He got all that from juice?” Buck asks. Eddie laughs. “Yeah, he got all that from juice. Kind of.”

and I cannot, cannot go by Maira/ @mairaiscarrierofthepaperclips (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Hanahaki Disease, Getting Together | 5K | Teen): Did Buck really not know? Did he not realise that he was the reason Eddie was even alive today? That knowing Buck was there, having Buck in his life, was sometimes the only thing that made Eddie get out of bed in the morning? Did Eddie- was this Eddie’s fault?

bad idea, right? by brewrosemilk/ @gayhoediaz (Social Media Fic, Sexting | 6K | Explicit): Buck stumbles across Eddie's grindr profile.

we all assume the worst the best we can by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Established Buddie, Near Death Experience | 6K | Teen): When a rescue goes wrong, Buck and Bobby are trapped, while Eddie and Chim scramble to save them.

watch out (you might get what you’re after) by sparkagrace / @ohhsodebonair (Canon Divergent, Fratboy Eddie | 6K | Teen): The 118 keep getting called to a fraternity house and Buck can't stop thinking about the frat president Eddie Diaz (who is definitely not responsible for the fires).

you're my sun, my moon, my guiding star by wafflesofdoom/ @capseycartwright (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): “Fine, let’s have it your way then,” Eddie slammed his phone down on the kitchen table. “You set me up a dating profile then – Hinge, Grindr, whatever you fucking want, Buck. Set me up a dating profile, and you pick which random man I need to sleep with to make it so you feel okay about wanting me.” in which evan buckley gets dumped, gets drunk with his best friend, realises he's in love with said best friend, and lets his abandonment issues get the best of him. because your first is never your last, right? so buck can't be eddie's first: he needs to be his last.

🔥 wanna be your endgame by literalmetaphor (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together, Pining | 10K | Mature): Maddie has her forehead against her hands, which are clasped in what looks to be prayer. “Okay, so – hang on, so Eddie’s gay?” “Yeah.” Buck can’t believe they’re doing this again. “And he told you he was in love with you.” “Right,” Buck says. “And you…” Maddie peeks up at him. “You’re in love with him?” “Absolutely.” Maddie draws in a long breath, and she splits her hands to pillow her face. “But you turned him down and told him you wanted to wingman for him instead?”

🔥 death wish love by Underhung_Aura/ @eddiebabygirldiaz (Post-S8E6: Confessions, Getting Together, PWP | 15K | Explicit): after getting dumped by tommy and going to eddie's, buck wakes up the next morning only to be pummeled by his hangover and his attraction to eddie

WIP

🔥 wicked dreams by hispolestar (Post-S7, BT Break-Up, Eddie Sexuality Crisis, Getting Together | 4/9 | 18K | Explicit): Eddie’s trouble starts with a dream. Well, it actually starts much earlier, when he runs into a woman who is the literal carbon copy of his dead wife. Or, alternatively it starts with a lightning bolt. Or a sniper. Or a firetruck. Or a car crash. Or, realistically, a grenade embedded in a seventh-grade teacher’s leg. It starts with blue eyes, broad shoulders and a tenacity that shocks Eddie to his very core. But right now, Eddie’s trouble starts with a dream. ~ Eddie, alone and confused, is navigating Christopher's extended stay in Texas, while also grappling with feelings he's been repressing for seven years. Buck, who misses Chris dearly, is struggling under Gerrard and his boyfriend's dismissive attitude. In the wreckage of their lives, they find each other.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon S1-S6, Divergent Post-S6 | 139/? | 446K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

🔥 how come everybody's dancing but you? by showedupatyourparty (Post-S7 Spec, Eddie Sexuality Crisis | 3/4 | 31K | Mature): Buck feels guilty. Everyone he loves is going through something painful, difficult, or unexpected right now. And Buck is just…bisexual. It’s great that he’s figured it out, and it’s great that everyone has been so supportive, and Tommy is—Tommy is fine. The sex is good, at least. Consistent. When Buck gets a call from Eddie’s phone late on a Tuesday night in June, it’s cause for concern. * Buck unpacks his own feelings about his recently-discovered bisexuality. Eddie gets adopted by drag queens. They're both just trying their best to be happy.

[red-riot-unbreakable-heart]

A Long, *Hard* Night with Eijiro Kirishima

Fandom: My Hero Academia

Ship: Kirishima x Fem Reader!!!!

Note: Ok my first Smut post - this is explicit so A18+ ONLY!!

Genre: Smut, Fluff, Romance, S*xual Tension, Dating

cw: MDNI!, fem reader, adult Pro-heros, all characters are A20+, blowjob, finger fucking, dirty talk, explicit content, romance

My Master List!

The first time you give Kirishima a blowjob, he asks you to use a condom.

It all starts out hot, heavy and hazy. A late night out with your joint friend group at the bar lead to a few close brushes and stolen glances. You both had been flirting shamelessly with each other for weeks.

You’re chatting with Mina and watching the cute bar tender pour espresso martinis when you feel your phone buzz. You pull the device out of your pocket and see a message from Kirishima flash across the screen – You wanna get out of here?

Instantly your eyes lock across the crowded bar and he hits you with a mischievous grin. There’s a question in his eyes as he nods towards the door. You smile back wickedly, and it’s the only answer he needs.

A half hour later you’re in his bed, running your hands under his shirt and across his toned stomach. Kirishima kisses down your neck and you moan as his hands creep under the hem of your shirt. Before long, you’re both in your underwear and breathing heavy.

You climb off of the pro hero and slide off the bed. He pouts at the loss of contact.

You stand back and drink him in – he’s absolutely gorgeous. His hair has fallen out of its usually spiked-up style and lies flat, dropping almost to his shoulders. The past few years of hero work show in his toned muscle and in the light scars that crisscross his upper chest and arms. His boxers stretch tightly across his toned thighs and you can see his arousal clearly through the thin black fabric. You almost lick your lips as you imagine what he looks like naked. Kirishima is so turned on right now that he can barely stand it. Yet there he lies - sweet faced and smiling at you. He’s eager to please, and very much enjoying the attention your eyes are giving his body. He likes the hungry look in your eyes as you appraise him.

“Come here.” You motion for him to slide to the edge of the bed. He obliges, drawn to you like a moth to flame. As he moves to the end of his bed, you slowly kneel before him. “I’m about to give you the best head of your life.”

You can tell that he loves hearing that – it’s so hot, the way you’re using your commanding pro hero tone on him. You see his dick twitch through the thin fabric of his boxers at the promise of your lips around him.

You grin, running a fingertip down his chest, across the expanse of his muscled stomach, and right to the elastic of his boxers. He shivers at the delicate contact. You move to slip your hand beneath the waistband of his underwear when he lightly grabs your hand to stop you.

“Hey – can we slow down for a minute?” He says sheepishly, looking down at you with soft eyes. You blink, the tension between you suddenly broken.

“Of course.” You say, worrying that you did something to make the unbreakable hero uncomfortable. He holds out a hand and pulls you to your feet, inviting you to sit next to him on the bed so that you’re on even ground.

“What’s up? Do you want to stop?” You ask, concern lacing your voice. You and Kirishima have known each other for a few years as casual friends, but you don’t know much about his dating history. The two of you have never discussed past hookups and now you wonder if he has some sexual trauma that you have unwittingly triggered.

“Oh my God – no! I absolutely want to keep going.” He says sincerely, reaching out to put a large, warm hand on your bare thigh. The contact turns you on so fast you need to squeeze your legs together to keep your libido at bay. Kirishima smirks, and you know your reaction didn’t go unnoticed. “I’ve pictured this night with you for weeks – months, even. I’ve wanted you so bad since you wore that crazy dress at the agency’s winter gala last year.”

You smile, thinking back to the strappy blue number you wore to the party of the year. The glittery high heels. The long, elegant slit up your left leg. You had been an absolute bombshell. But still - it’s shocking to think that Kirishima has burned for you for this long.

“Then did I do something that you didn’t like? Talk to me Eijiro.” The use of his given name takes him a bit by surprise. He can’t quite meet your eyes as he struggles to string an answer together.

“Well – shit this is awkward – I want a blowjob. Of course I want a blowjob from you – you’re the hottest girl I’ve ever met!” His hand, still on your thigh, squeezes pointedly as he says this. “But since it’s our first time together and we really haven’t discussed where we stand on exclusivity and STI tests…I’d really appreciate it if you let me wear a condom while you do it. If you still want to do it, that is.”

You look at him, perplexed. You think that never, in the history of all mankind, has a man so desperate to get his dick sucked asked to wear a condom during the act.

“It’s not that I don’t trust you. It’s just that – I think it’s the most responsible way to move forward until we have time to properly sit down and talk through what this is.” He gestures at the two of you with his free hand. And then it hits you – this is some classic chivalry shit. Kirishima is trying to set a boundary that respects the sexual and physical health of everyone involved. You grin.

“I’ve never done it that way before, but if you help me along I’m sure I’ll get the hang of it in no time.”

Kirishima’s body seems to sag with relief. “I know it’s a little weird…but it’s really important to me. I’ve had some challenges with partners in the past and I-”

You silence him with a kiss. “Eijiro, it’s totally fine. You don’t need to explain. Unless there’s any other boundaries or trauma triggers you want to talk through before we go any further?”

His smile is wide. “I knew you were cool the moment I met you. Nah, that’s it for now. I just ask that you let me know if you’re not into something. We can stop anytime you want.” He gets up and walks across the room to his dresser, popping open the second drawer and reaching inside to produce a bright orange box of flavored condoms.

“The chivalrous hero is always prepared.” You say sarcastically, smiling as he blushes a deep red.

“I’ve got a great handle on my brand – even in the bedroom.” He waggles his eyebrows suggestively and the two of you laugh. He cracks open the box and pulls out a string of bright foil condoms, the packaging glints in the low light. “What flavor would you prefer? We’ve got strawberry, banana, grape…oh, shit! I forgot they come in different colors, too.”

“What colors we talking?” You look over curiously.

“Let’s see…” He holds up the packages so he can read in the semi-darkness. “We’ve got red, yellow, purple, and green. It’s your pick!”

“Omg let’s do green…” You cover your mouth as you cackle out “so you can have a…cucumber dick!! Ha!” Kirishima laughs along with you and tears off the green condom package, haphazardly abandoning the rest of the box in his half-opened dresser drawer.

He walks back over to the bed and sits down, handing the shiny package to you. “You’re in control of this next part.” He says softly, and you can see he’s getting hard again underneath his boxers. You feel a spark in the pit of your stomach.

“Oh yeah? Number 12 Pro-Hero Red Riot likes to be taken care of?” You slide off the bed and get back into kneeling position beneath him, your small hands sliding up his muscular thighs and squeezing. He groans as you run your right hand slowly up his clothed length, dragging your finger along the sensitive tip of his cock.

“You’re being so good for me…” You whisper, dipping your fingertips underneath the waistband of his boxers to feel soft skin. You tease him, running your hand along the sensitive “V” of his waist, avoiding his dick. His eyes close and his head drops back. Oh – it seems that Kirishima has a praise kink. You smile at this delicious development, and decide to see how far you can push him.

“You’re getting so hard for me, baby.” You pull your hand out from under his boxers and reach up to slide them smoothly down his toned legs. He whimpers and lifts his ass to help you take off his underwear. His rock hard cock springs out of the garment and comes to rest flush against his taught abs. Unsurprisingly, he’s huge – you absentmindedly lick your lips as you take in his perfect length. He is just as beautiful as you imagined – and his tip is absolutely dripping with anticipation.

You toss his boxers over your shoulder and reach for the flavored condom. You examine the thin square and see a small watermelon emoji printed on the smooth silver packaging. You smirk and look up to see Kirishima staring at you from up on the bed, pupils blown wide with arousal. His left hand is twitching towards his dick, seemingly waiting for permission. You meet his gaze as you bring the package to your mouth and slowly tear the perforated strip back using your bright teeth. “Touch yourself for me, baby.” And he does, grasping his member lightly as he begins to pleasure himself with gentle, languid strokes. He watches you pull out the condom, features taught with anticipation.

“Good boy.” You whisper, and he groans in response. “I’m gonna make you feel sooo good with my mouth, Eijiro.”

He picks up his pace. His cock is so hard you can see it spasm in his hand. “My rock hard hero.” He smiles at the endearment.

After a few moments, you put your hand to his wrist and motion for him to stop. He releases his dick and it springs back to attention against his rippling abdomen. You lean forward and place the bright green condom on his length, taking your time to slowly roll it down all the way to the base of his member. He shudders at the intimate touch, and his eyes widen as you cleanly spit into the palm of your hand. You reach to stroke his dick a few times to make sure the condom’s in place, and realize that the green latex comes pre-lubricated. Your saliva mixes with a thin sheen of liquid, causing your hand to move smoothly across Kirishima’s hard dick.

“You seem to know exactly what you’re doing.” He pants, grinning as you continue to pump his length.

“Well what can I say? I’m a Pro at everything I do.” You mutter before leaning forward to pull his cock into your mouth. He hisses at the unexpected contact as you circle his tip with the edge of your tongue.

“Baby…” He whines out, as you move to drag your tongue up the underside of his dick.

“Wow you’re big.” You whisper, re-tracing up his length again. You look up at him through your lashes. “An impressive dick for an impressive goddamn hero.”

He absolutely loves that, and suddenly he’s scrambling to pull you up into his lap so that you’re straddling him. He kisses you fiercely, eyes closed, one hand twisted in your hair. And you’re kissing him back with just as much fervor – gasping as you feel his hard length press against your wet panties.

“I think we should take these off.” He says between kisses, reaching blindly to push your underwear down. You stand up shakily and stumble as you try to hop out of your practical cotton panties. You strip them off and toss them into a pile with Kirishima’s boxers.

You don’t even have a second to breathe before he pulls you back into his lap and starts sloppily making out with you again. You both groan as his condomed dick slips against your wet pussy. You reach down and reposition his length it so that he’s right against your clit. He grinds slowly against you, making you both see stars.

Kirishima kisses down your jawline and up to your ear to whisper: “I’m not ready to have penetrative sex just yet – is it ok if we just keep going like this?” You nod breathlessly as you roll your hips against his hard dick, already close to orgasm. It’s slippery and hot and he knows exactly what he’s doing as he licks his fingers and reaches between you to massage your swollen clit.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He pants, moving his fingers deftly against you. “I’ve always wanted to see you like this – absolutely undone and naked on top of me.”

“Eijiro…” You whimper as he rolls against you again. The lube of the condom allows his cock to slip comfortably along your folds. “I’m…I’m gonna cum! Is it okay if I cum?” Your face starts to heat up as you feel an orgasm welling up in the pit of your stomach.

“Yes! Yes, please – cum for me baby.” His voice is rough as you feel your body start to shudder and explode. You’re dimly aware of him whispering, “Oh my God, this is the hottest thing that’s ever happened to me.”

You ride out your orgasm slowly, gasping at the way his fingers continue to draw out your pleasure. He’s smiling as his fingers and cock slip against you, a wave of heat between the two of you. You laugh as he slows his pace, then removes his hand when you become too sensitive. He envelops you in an embrace, bringing his fingertips up to trace along your back softly. You shiver as you come down from your high, your head swimming with an image of his sharp red eyes clouded over with lust.

“That was...” You turn your head so that your foreheads touch. You kiss him soundly. “That was just…wow. I knew you had to be good with your hands…but that. That was a whole other level of Pro Hero work.” You both laugh, his face is glowing with the praise.

“Hey, anytime.” Kirishima leans forward to kiss you back. “And I mean anytime.”

Your heart leaps at the implication, and your brain jumps through a few hot situations where you’d like to ask Kirishima to drop what he’s doing to pleasure you. One particular fantasy comes to mind, in which you’re locking your office door while Eijiro sits on your desk unbuckling his belt. You shake your head to clear away an image of him fucking you in your office. One hookup at a time, girl! You refocus.

 “If it’s alright with you…I’d like to suck your dick properly now.” You plant a wet kiss on his left cheek. You can tell that Eijiro is trying not to seem overeager, but the impatient cock throbbing against your pussy is a dead giveaway.

“I’d really love that, cutie.” He leans forward to catch your mouth in another of his searing kisses. A moment later, you swing your legs off of him and your feet hit the ground shakily. You didn’t realize how much the orgasm had taken out of you as you duck-walk over to his dresser. Wordlessly, you open a drawer and fish out the brightly colored box of condoms.

“Let’s do red this time…for Red Riot.” You find a strawberry flavored condom and quickly tear the foil packaging. You turn to see Eijiro sitting on the bed practically quaking with anticipation. You smirk, legs like jelly as you return to the bed with the fresh condom.

You bend over him and swap out the slippery, stretched green condom for the fresh red one. When you’re done, you give his rock hard member an approving pat. “There – good as new!”

He laughs with you as he sinks back into the bed, ready for you to work your magic. It’s nice to be this comfortable with someone – to be able to joke in between the sex.  To be shamelessly naked in another person’s presence. You can’t remember the last time you’ve slept with someone like this – the last time it was this easy.

You spread his legs out and push him the rest of the way into the mattress before kneeling on the ground between muscular thighs.

“Hold on a sec – here, take this.” He reaches behind his head to grab a pillow, which he lobs your way. You smile appreciatively as you tuck the pillow beneath your knees.

“You’re such a gentleman.” You praise, before running your tongue up his length. “Now let’s reward you for being so manly and chivalrous.” It’s almost funny how those words are almost enough to push Eijiro over the edge. His face flushes and you see his hands grip the sheets above you.

“You like it when I praise you, huh? Want me to keep telling you what a good little hero you are?” You lick underneath the tip of his cock, teasing. Eijiro lets out a needy moan. “Such a manly, strong hero. You deserve to be taken care of after working so hard to keep everyone safe.”

And with that, you take his entire length into your mouth. You put on a good show – sloppily bringing your lips down to the base of his cock and running your fingertips along the underside of his balls. You squeeze them experimentally and he groans at the sensation. You begin to bob up and down on his firm member, hollowing out your cheeks with intent to suck the life out of him. He brings a heavy hand up to rest in your hair as you work, smoothing your bangs out of your face as he does so.

You slurp up his dick and can see that he’s getting close. You use your left hand and continue to massage his balls and the base of his cock lightly. You hum softly, and the vibrations of your mouth and throat send absolute shivers up his body. His cock is twitching in your mouth and his balls are all but pulsing in anticipation of his release.

Time for the grand finale - you start to suck on the head of his dick, taking care to stimulate him with some impressive suction before releasing him with a loud “pop” of your lips. He groans at the loss of contact, running his free hand messily through his hair with sexual frustration.

You prop yourself up on your elbows as you take a quick breather. You look at the absolute wreckage of a man laying on the bed before you. His pupils are wide and blissed out and his body is tense as he takes quick and shallow breaths.

You look him straight in the eyes as you let your tongue dart across your wet mouth. You stare him down, a dare mounting in your eyes. You want to drive him completely over the edge, and he knows it. He looks at you hungrily, desperately. “You know…Red Riot has got to be my favorite Pro Hero.”

And with that – he’s gone. Eijiro grabs either side of your face and practically stuffs his dick back into your mouth. You eagerly accept him in, moving your tongue to accommodate his size. Within moments, he’s face fucking you – hands gripping and pulling your hair as he starts to cum in your sweet little mouth.

“Oh my God.” He stutters out, his hips pistoning into you as he rides out his orgasm. His purposeful thrusts draw an unintentional whine of pleasure out of you. The noise makes him smile, and as he finishes his pace begins to slow. Finally, blissed-out and boneless, he slowly pulls his softening dick out of your mouth.

It takes a moment for you to realize that there’s an unexpected advantage of giving a blowjob using a condom – easy cleanup. Eijiro carefully rolls the spent condom off of his member before tying it off and tossing it in a wastepaper basket across the room. He flops blissfully backward onto his bed, butt naked and handsome. He’s covered in a sheen of sweat and looks like he’s absolutely glowing.

He holds his arms out to you expectantly and you climb into them, giggling as he wraps himself around you and rolls you both to the side so he can spoon you. You feel his exhausted cock feebly twitch as it makes contact with your bare ass. You smile to yourself as you wonder how long he will need to recover before he’s hard again.

His arms encircle you with warmth; a big hand comes down to lay flat across the plush skin of your tummy as he rests his chin on your shoulder.

“That was…” He’s trying to find the words to describe the passionate exchange you just shared but comes up flat.

“…the best head you’ve ever had?” You supply helpfully, a sly smile playing at your lips. This earns you a belly laugh as he plants a kiss on the side of your head.

“Yeah. That’s exactly what it was.” He pauses, taking a moment to compose himself. “I swear this isn’t just the afterglow talkin’ – but would you like to go out sometime? I’d like to take you on a real date.”

You open your mouth to respond but he forages on ahead before you have a chance to form words.

“I want to date you. Fully. Exclusively. I want take you to dinner, the movies – even to that stupid hero gala at the end of the year. The works.” He lets out a shaky breath. “I want you to wear that strappy sexy dress to the next work party and I want everyone there to see you and know that I’m your date. I want us to hangout at the bar with our friends and be able to just hold hands and be silly and couple-y. I want to have sex with you like this…all the damn time.”

He sounds so sure of himself as he says this next part – “I’ve felt this way for a while – and I’m hoping that you maybe feel the same?”

You can practically feel his heart jumping in his chest behind you.

“Are you asking me to be your girlfriend Eijiro?”

“Well – we don’t need to put a label on it just yet if you’re not comfortable. We can take some time to feel things out and just-”

“Yes.”

“Huh?” He’s frozen around you, thinking your answer is too good to be true.

“Absolutely. Yes. I want to be your girlfriend.” The tumble of words comes out of your mouth before you even register what’s happening. “Let’s do it all – dates, team-ups, galas, sex. There’s really no one else I’d want to share all of that with. And yeah – I’ve felt this way for a while, too.”

Behind you, Eijiro grins so widely he practically radiates sunshine. “Sounds like we’ve got a full blown relationship on our hands here, sweetheart.”

You feel your face blush at the term of endearment. “Usually I wouldn’t go rushing into something so quickly…but this. Us. I don’t know…it just feels right.” You muse, as he kisses your bare shoulder softly. “I guess we have been shamelessly flirting for months on end though.”

“Gotta love a slow burn.” Kirishima supplies, kissing the side of your head and then shifting away from you as he moves to get off the bed.

“Where are you going, hot stuff?” You gently swat his bare ass as he stands up, delighting in chuckle you elicit from the hardening hero.

He walks around the bed to kneel before you, settling between your legs. He grabs your thighs and pulls you roughly towards him, bringing your butt to the edge of the bed.

“So now that things are all official…I think I’d better return the favor.  Any interest in receiving the best head of your life?” He starts kissing up our leg and you shiver with excitement. Oh, hell yes.

“Hold on – if I had to use a condom to blow you, that means that if you’re gonna go down on me you need to use…” You search the deep recesses of your mind and try to recall what you learned in high school sex ed. “…a dental dam? Is that a thing?”

Kirishima pulls away from where he’s licking up your thigh to give you one of his trademarked-shark-toothed grins. “Go check the dresser drawer, there’s a box of them to the right. A good Pro Hero is always prepared.”

You smile back at him – it’s going to be a long, hard night.

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

Thanks for reading!! 💕 You can check out more ~spicy~ fics on My Master List!

[jesswritesthat]

Oikawa Tōru: Doubt

Fandom: Haikyuu!! — [ Masterlist ]

Summary: ~0.9k, fluff

• You never minded Oikawas fans, but one in particular gets a little too confident.

Warnings: None

>>>>——————————>

Dating one of the most beautiful people to have ever graced the halls of Aoba-Johsai was no easy task, and by the gods, sometimes you’d jokingly highlight that you wished it was Iwaizumi Hajime. However, your heart was defective and had fallen for his best friend instead - who forever agrees with wishing for Iwaizumi himself. The namesake irritably stating you were idiotically perfect for each other.

You’d been together for some time and not once had Oikawa Tōru done anything for you to doubt his love or loyalty. It was in the soft smiles he’d give you, or the looks that spoke a conversation, it was in the playful jokes, and the thoughtless touches when he was excited. Volleyball was a massive part of his life you understood, and it took up a lot of his time, but never were you forgotten.

An open invite was always presented for his practices, for his out of school training, and for his games - and always were you given the choice to go. Though he would over-dramatically whine if you declined, he wouldn’t hold it against you and instead insist you have fun without him (assuring you it’d be more fun if he was there obviously).

Tōru greeted you before and after every game you attended with Seijoh, and he made sure to find his way to your classroom to see you every school day. His team knew who you were and would treat you as one of their own, they’d playfully mock his mistakes if ever they arose and support you if he was absent. There was never a reason to doubt him and he made sure of that, and even if your relationship was common knowledge, there were some who doubted.

Today was one of those days. This girl was undeniably attractive, and you’d hold no ill will under regular circumstances considering you’d seen her in the cluster of Seijoh fans frequently enough. You’d grown accustomed to others flirting with Oikawa and even confessing to him on occasion, it came as a side affect to his natural charm and handsome looks, he was also receptive toward his fans which made him all the more approachable.

Like most she’d touched his bicep, laughed a little too hard at his jokes, and approached him when presented the opportunity. Until today, where such fan behaviour involved you rather than your boyfriend.

“Have you seen Oikawa-san yet Saki? He should be out by now!” One of her friends commented, the trio looking around the reception for him.

Admittedly it wasn’t your place butting in to their conversation, and maybe that was why this Saki girl had spoken so ‘confidently’, but you only intended to provide an answer for their qualms.

“He said he’d be out in a second so shouldn’t be much longer.” Came your polite tone, placing your phone back into your pocket after relaying your recent message.

The trio of fans looked to you, one tilting their head with a welcoming smile.

“Ah (L/n), you’re his partner right? Thanks!”

When you nodded in response, both to her question and as a silent ‘you’re welcome’, this Saki girl suddenly spun to meet your gaze with hands on her hips.

"Oh are you gonna tell me to stay away from your man?"

It caught you completely off guard, one of her friends smirked whilst the other (who’d greeted you previously) seemed surprised much like yourself. Unfortunely for Saki, you weren’t about to start doubting him now.

"Well if I had to do that, then he wouldn't be my man."

"I guess you've got nothing to worry abou—" Saki narrowed her eyes to a cruel glare that’d actually concern you if you cared enough, but you didn’t get another second to consider when a flash of aqua crossed your vision and you were tackled by such a force it left you stumbling for balance (still embraced in his arms).

"BABY DID YOU SEE ME?!" Tōru excitedly yelled upon entry, immediately racing into your standing figure. Naturally he had no intention of slowing down expecting you to catch him, and with a brief imbalance you always did, reciprocating his adoring smile.

“Yeah, you were amazing Tōru. Those service aces in the first match? Flawless!”

“Well of course~ I couldn’t disappoint (Y/n)-chan.” A kiss to your lips. “You okay if I greet the fans?”

“Mhm, go ahead. I’ll meet you outside.” You gently clasped his chin with your fingers, simply admiring him. “My man is inspiring.”

When walking away your fingers slipped from his skin with a flourish, your words ensuring his eyes remained on you until you were out of sight.

“And so is my lovely (Y/n)-chan.” Then he turned to his fans with a peace sign, a dangerous glance briefly landing on Saki, before returning to normal. “Thank you all for coming today, and for your support!”

“Oikawa can we have a picture?!”

“Please can you sign my journal?”

—

Dating Oikawa Tōru was difficult, but it was worth your while by a long shot. No matter how many fans or distractions he had, he always made his way back to you - for that, you were forever grateful.

“Hey (Y/n)-chan, thanks for waiting. You wanna get dinner with Iwa-chan and I to celebrate?” A familiar hand placed on the small of your back and his real breathtaking smile worn only because of you.

“Sure, thanks Tōru.”

<——————————<<<<

[grandlinedreams]

Well, since I have fallen for your writing pretty hard (it's a blessing really, because so far only your reader can be read as a he when it comes to the Fallout series fandom), my brain's been spewing ideas at me.

I'd love to see a genuinely jealous Cooper. Awfully and painfully jealous, where he's actually hurting and doubting himself, but is also angry. Not the kind of playful jealousy he felt towards Lucy, no. Something deeper. And angry at the slimy guy who's already stepped over any kind of boundaries when he's laid his eyes on what's his. But they need the information, they can't go forward without it, so the plan is for the reader (you knooow, that version of the reader from that particular fic of yours, where they are crafting ammo) to get close, flirt with him, go real sweet on him. But that guy's too touchy. Too close, too dangerously close. To getting his brains blown out of his skull by Cooper's gun, that is.

I absolutely love your writing ❤️

OUGH YES I EAT THAT SHIT UP EVERY TIME but also thank-you!! I do my absolute best not to gender reader bc it bugs me to do it unless I'm asked to and it's also just a whole lot more inclusive! 🥺❤️

ㅡ

Warnings: jealous!Cooper, some self deprication, mentions of pre-War Cooper, weapons maker/dealer!reader, touch of angst, Canon typical violence, Lucy just watching all of this like ??, skeezy informant dude do be skeezin', boundaries very overstepped (unwanted touch, lewd words), questionable alcohol,cursing, quick and dirty Makeout sesh at the end lmao

The place is a "bar" in the lowest sense of the term. A gutted out building that was undoubtedly a diner of some kind before the war, now with blown out windows but surprisingly, a neon 'open' sign that halfway works in places, spitting sparks that makes Lucy eye it warily. "Is this place...safe?"

You snort. "If you're lookin' for safe, you should've stayed in that tin-can vault of yours." You adjust the sling of your pack, now far lighter than it'd been when you left with Cooper, Lucy, and Dogmeat. "We need information, and the best informant we've got likes to hang around here."

Lucy still doesn't look happy about it, but she reluctantly follows as you step forward. The inside resembles the outside for the most part, the same kind of dismal grey of the wastelands ㅡ but it's busy.

Battered tables teem with scavengers and raiders alike, and you pretend not to notice them ㅡ your attention is on the man doing a piss-poor job of wiping down what's left of a counter. A radio crackles, a singer croons sweetly, but the pitch is made tinny for the way the man casually smacks the top of it when it stutters. A barely there glance up at you, silent prompt that you follow.

"Three drinks," you say without preamble, shoving a handful of caps forward. Your fingers drum, eyes roaming in feigned disinterest ㅡ and then nod when three short glasses are shoved to you. The liquid is of a questionable color, watered down amber ㅡ you sniff it before you take a sip.

"Tastes like shit," you say when Cooper approaches and you hand him his glass, followed by Lucy, "but it gets the job done."

Lucy eyes the glass. "What is it?"

You down the rest of it. "Poor man's excuse for whiskey, I think. Or might be deathclaw piss, who knows."

Cooper snorts when Lucy's nose wrinkles, but she downs it with a grimace that makes you snicker and pat her back.

"Atta girl, vaultie. Atta girl."

The four of you settle at a table, Dogmeat at your feet as you stretch out, catching Lucy's look. "What?"

"What are we here for?"

"Information, vaultie," Cooper cuts in, "we don't have shit to go on as far as following your dear ol' daddy, so we gotta get some."

"And the best bet is getting it from that sneaky bastard," you let your eyes drift so that Lucy follows, "over there."

The man in question has clearly seen better days ㅡ or what he can see through the thick, wild tangle of silver-streaked hair on his head, the matching mess of beard that spills from his chin to his chest. He's sitting with a handful of scavengers, oblivious to the fact he's being watched.

"Him?" Lucy's tone expresses her doubt. "He doesn't look likeㅡ"

You knock your knuckles on the table to quiet her. "The point of being an informant, Lucy," you say in a low mutter, "is to not look like a fuckin' idiot who's listening in on shit they shouldn't."

"So who's gonna go talk to him?"

You sigh, eyeing the two. Cooper is obviously out of the question ㅡ it's the grace of his hat and the fact his back is to most of them that allows him some anonymity, but you have no doubts near everyone knows who he is. Or at the very least, what he is.

And Lucy... well. She's been out here for weeks now, but there's still a naive shinyness to her that says she'll fuck it up immediately, even if she doesn't mean to.

"Me," you say, and Lucy blinks at the same time Cooper tenses, eyes dark as they study your face. There's a protest on the tip of his tongue, one you silence as you continue, "I'm the best bet we have of getting what we need."

Lucy glances between you and Cooper, sensing the rising tension ㅡ and Dogmeat whines and nudges at your leg. Your eyes lock with Cooper's.

"Fine," he rasps. "Do what you have to."

ㅡ

Cooper is pissed. Lucy can tell that, the way his eyes never leave you as you trek back to the counter, another couple of caps for another drink ㅡ not for you, her, or him. But for that informant, the way you gesture with a casual nod in his direction.

He watches as the drink gets sent, the informant looking up, and his gloved hands tighten in his lap at the grin the other man gives you before he waves you over. He hates the casual way you step, relaxed, friendly ㅡ flirtatious, almost.

Cooper is not stupid. Far from it, he knows better than to outright stake claim on you in a way that can be used against him by others ㅡ but you're a chink in the proverbial armor, a weakness he's both grateful for and wishes he didn't have.

It's unspoken though, that you're his ㅡ and the fact he can't stroll over and make a point of it annoys him. Especially with the way the man's hand drifts over your leg, meaty fingers on a thigh Cooper has touched in a more intimate way, spaces reserved for him and him alone ㅡ seeing this fucker paw at you makes his blood boil.

"Looks like they're doing a good job so far," Lucy says, watching a little less intently than Cooper, "do you thinkㅡ"

"Vaultie." Cooper's voice is low and sharp. "Shut the fuck up."

It's not Lucy's fault, not really ㅡ but Cooper's two seconds from putting a bullet in this guy's head, information be damned. In another life, the life he'd had before, he figures he wouldn't be so irritated. He'd been handsome, hadn't really had to do much to make his stance clear ㅡ but now?

Now he knows what he looks like, how he acts ㅡ and the softer lining of your relationship is still new enough that there's that kernel of doubt. That you'd take someone else if given the chance, someone who could give you far more than he can ㅡ because all he can give you is all he knows.

Death and destruction, picking apart things until there's nothing left. All he knows how to do is take and take and take ㅡ and while you've yet to be bothered by it, he knows it's just a matter of time.

He tracks that hand when it slides up your back, teeth clenched because now you look distinctly uncomfortable. It's hidden, but he knows how to look for it, better at reading you than anyone else ㅡ and it's quickly fraying restraint that keeps him from getting up and coming to your rescue.

You flinch at the next touch, barely there recoil ㅡ but it's enough to snap Cooper's threadbare patience as he stands, ignoring Lucy's look of confusion as he strolls over.

His foosteps are slow, feigned casual as he approaches, settling a hand on your shoulder. Again, casual, were it not for the possessive pressure as he drawls, "Sorry for the interruption, but I need to borrow my friend here."

He's hauling you up before you can protest, and he commends himself on choosing this option rather than the one he so desperately wants ㅡ one that would involve splattering the brains of that fucker across the back wall. Even so, he takes too much pleasure in the intentional hand on said gun when the informant opens his mouth to protest.

He hurries you away from the table, ignores Lucy and Dogmeat as he tugs you past the table and outside, around the corner from prying eyes.

"Cooper," you snap, "what the fuckㅡ"

You're silenced by the aggressive press of his mouth on yours, gloved hand still firm around your upper arm as he cages you against the wall. He dominates the kiss, nips at your lip, deepens it with the muffle of a soft moan from you.

His other hand wanders, up your thigh, side, back ㅡ all the places that piece of shit dared to touch you. "I know I said do what you have to," he mutters when he breaks away to nip at your neck, "but I have my limits, sweetheart. 'specially when some fuckface is touchin' what's mine."

You squirm. "Cooperㅡ"

Dark eyes meet yours. "You are mine, aren't you darlin'?" You nod, and he clicks his tongue. "Words, babydoll. I wanna hear you say it."

It takes a second for you to find your voice. "Yours," you say, "I'm yours, Cooper."

He smirks, leaning in to kiss you again. Less aggressive but no less consuming, only letting up to let you breathe as he presses against you. "Good," he rasps, "better rememher that because I don't intend on losin' you, nor do I like the idea of fuckin' sharing."

[fizzyxcustard]

Under Your Spell

Masterlist of fan fiction

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, insecurity, a little angst (with a happy ending)

Word count: 1571

Comments/Notes: From the imagine, "You put a spell on Thorin to make him fall in love with you, but as the spell wears off, you find out that he has always loved you." Requested by @asgardianhobbit98

Written while listening to Journey's Greatest Hits.

I hope you like the fic. As always, like, reblog and comment if you enjoy. If you wish to be added to any of my tag lists, let me know.

Thank you to everyone who supported me during my posting hiatus. I felt like it was needed to get back into a better mindset after I become incredibly overwhelmed by another one of my fics' reception.

The last twenty four hours had been beyond perfect. The spell which you had been keeping for the last few months, ready for the chance to use, had worked better than you could have imagined. Thorin had declared undying love to you as the sun set; the two of you having just shared dinner together with a large group. Then once on your own together, he had been so open in his affection toward you, blushing and smiling as the words tumbled out of his mouth. 

“I love you more than anything,” he had told you, confident and bold. He had taken your hand, kissed it, then asked for you to join him on the royal balcony. 

The two of you had sipped wine, while Thorin gazed at you over the top of the glass, unable to tear his gaze from you. 

You shared tender kisses, hand holding, and Thorin had held you as you fell asleep. Then you woke in his arms, warm and content. He had been watching you, and as you woke from your slumber, he smiled at you and kissed your head. 

All of that day and you had remained in Thorin’s presence, sharing meals, conversations, kisses. 

“Would you join me again tonight on the balcony? It is forecast that we should have a clear night sky.”

“Of course,” you had replied. Only now, sadness began to seep from your words, unable to hide any further. The realisation that all of this would be over at sundown was growing heavy in your heart and gut. The spell would only last for one twenty four hour period, and could only ever be used on one person once in their life. After sundown, and Thorin would return to his former self, purely a friend to you and your King, nothing more than that. 

It was almost sundown, and you excused yourself from Thorin’s chambers, telling him that you wished to quickly write a letter to a friend. He just smiled at you, his eyes so full of adoration, as you disappeared out of the door. 

As you walked the corridors back to your bed chamber, you felt tears fall down your cheeks. The pain was so heavy and hot in your chest. Just to have Thorin adore you for twenty four hours had been perfect beyond any kind of comprehension. However, the fall back to reality was going to be excruciating. In time, another woman would have Thorin fall for them, and this time it would be of his own choice.  

You lit your candles and sat down on the edge of your bed, staring at the vase of roses that Thorin had had brought to your chamber. They could now be disposed of as they would just serve as a reminder of your pathetic need to have Thorin love you. 

All sense of time slipped away from you as you fell asleep on your bed, still fully dressed. Once you had lay out on your bed, you had not moved. Tears had flowed, pulling you into your subconscious world where you could be happy temporarily. 

Dreams came and went, flickering pictures of far off lands that you had explored with the Company, months earlier, where you had fallen for their leader. Flashes of sunlight bouncing off swords and the calls of armies became a jumble in your mind. 

Your eyes opened slowly, adjusting. The candles had gone out hours ago. There was a dull thump behind your eyes and you winced, blinking hard. 

For a second, you felt as if you were still in a dream somewhere. You could feel something resting on your waist, curled around. Blinking again, you looked down and could make out a hand. On the middle finger was a ring. 

You gasped and shifted away suddenly, almost dropping out of bed. “What?” you choked. 

Thorin was lying on your bed, and was now rousing. His eyes opened slowly and he smiled at the sight of you. “Come back to bed, my love,” he said sleepily. “It’s still early.” 

“But…how?”

He just smiled again and sat up. “You think a spell could make me love you?” 

“How did you know about it?” 

“I’ve known about it quite some time now,” he replied. “I will not name any names, but I was made aware that you acquired the spell from someone in Lake-town, did you not?”

Shame hit you hard and you lowered your head, feeling the tears fall once again. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. “And now you are playing along to mock me; the spell wore off at night fall yesterday.” 

Thorin got up from the bed and followed the edge of it towards you. “Why would you think I’d ever mock you?” He stood before you, his head to once side in question and disbelief that you could ever think such a thing. 

“I was stupid to ever think you could love me,” you hissed. 

Anger flared in Thorin’s eyes and on impulse he grabbed your hip and threw you both into a kiss. It was hot, demanding, needing. So much unlike the day earlier. All you could do in your weakness was cling to him, your backside resting against your dresser. He was pressing into you harder now, his tongue desperate in your mouth. 

Thorin drew back from you, his blue eyes ablaze. They were no longer soft like the day before, but they were on fire. That had always been the true Thorin, and as you had known him for the last six months: passionate, on fire. He pressed his forehead to you and then kissed it. 

You closed your eyes as you felt his hand become buried in your hair. His other hand was still on your hip. There was a desperation in his actions. The day earlier and he had wanted to be in your company, to look upon you. Now, he needed to touch you. 

The two of you kissed again, hard and needing. You could feel your inhibitions let go, and your hands became tangled up in his hair, your breath lost, your heart pounding. 

He whispered your name, needing you. 

Within minutes and the two of you were back on your bed, disrobed and exploring each other. Thorin’s lips caressed every inch of you, and when he was kissing down the inside of your thigh, he looked up at you. “Why did you ever think you needed a spell to capture my heart? It was always yours.” 

The two of you joined, exhaling in relief at the pent up frustration. Thorin was over you, his one hand gripping yours. To feel him connected with you, feel him inside you, giving himself over to you by choice, that was the true magic. 

Your bodies were synchronised, moving together in rhythm so well. 

Each and every time Thorin’s gaze connected with yours, and you could see the love for you there. It burned. The spell you had cast had diluted his true love, and his gaze the day earlier had been as if he weren’t quite in the room with you. Now he was present for every second. 

Every thrust was now making you build upward towards climax. The sensations feeling as if waves were cascading down your body, until the last one took hold. It came from the base of your stomach, and shattered outward. You shook, and as you rode out that one spectacular wave, Thorin kept his gaze locked on you. 

The sensation of you gripping Thorin’s girth in your plateau pushed him over the edge, and he spilled. He dug his head against your neck, groaning at the wondrous pleasure that washed over him. 

Both of you fell down beside each other, panting and sweating. Thorin reached for you, and you rolled over to him, and put your head on his chest. “Is that what true love feels like?” you gasped. 

“No spell could ever replicate that,” Thorin said softly. “When you first placed the spell on me, it was as if I couldn’t control my words, and no longer could I keep my feelings for you secret. But the expression of my love for you, it…I cannot describe it. It was as if it was dulled, and when dusk came, the spell having ended, my heart and my body burned for you again, like it always had. The spell stopped me feeling that love in a true sense.” 

“Why did you never tell me how you felt?” you asked, propping yourself up on your arm. 

“I was terrified of rejection. The spell at least took away my cowardice.” 

“You’re the bravest man I’ve ever known, and yet you couldn’t tell me you loved me?” you asked, not quite able to believe such a revelation. “You lead a kingdom, and armies, yet you couldn’t tell me three simple words.” 

Thorin sighed. “You did not tell me either.” 

“I had reason not to,” you scoffed. “You’re a king. Declaring your love to a king and expecting them to love you in return is just ridiculous.” 

You saw that anger flare in Thorin’s eyes again, and his jaw clenched. “I am a king in name and by my birth right. But I am no different to you in heart. There is only one that I bow to, and that is my wife and Queen. And those positions will only ever be filled by one person…you.” 

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @middleearthpixie @linasofia @xxbyimm @luna-xial @knittastically @meganlpie @guardianofrivendell @asgardianhobbit98 @rachel1959 @mrsdurin @quiall321 @missihart23 @lemond57 @evenstaredits @catthefearless @the-fragile-heart-of-a-lady @glassgulls @sazzlep @aliasauthor @solairewisteria @littlebird-99 @court-jobi @heilith @absentmindeduniverse @albionscastle @way-too-addicted-to-fandoms @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @bookworm-with-coffee @danzalladaggers @ourlonelymountain @phantomessangel @estethell @windb3ll

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Special tag for this fic: @kurlyfrasier @littlesweetdressmaker

[swanimagines]

HEARTS | KAZ BREKKER

Summary: You have fallen hard for Dirtyhands himself, and Nina knows just what to do about it.

The clink of glasses and chatter of patrons fade into the background as you found yourself fixated on Kaz, sitting across the room, admiring his every move. His eyes roamed the parchment in front of him, and a part of you told you to go to him, sit across from him and… offer him your help?

Then he’d arch an eyebrow at you, asking why would he need your help. Maybe he’d call you a needless distraction or something worse. You’d just embarrass yourself. So you settled with sitting there and admiring him from afar, fantasising what could happen if he’d have feelings for you too. That stupid fantasy had been stuck in your brain for months, and you knew it would never be true. 

“I have something for you.” Nina’s voice stirred you out from your thoughts and you took in a deep breath as you shifted your eyes on her, then on the brown package in her hands.

“What’s this?” you asked, frowning as Nina handed the package to you.

She huffed. “I bought you a pair of binoculars because now you get to look at Kaz better… or you could go talk to him.”

You felt how all the blood decided to take a trip on your face and you immediately started shaking your head. “W-what? What are you talking about?”

Nina snorted, “I can hear your heart. And it’s written all over you anyway.”

You opened your mouth, then closed it, then opened it and closed it one last time as your shoulders slumped. “Is it that obvious?”

Nina smirked, taking a seat beside you. “Pretty much, yeah.”

You were silent for a moment, staring at your hands. Then you sighed. “I know it’s stupid. Kaz will never reciprocate.” Nina let out an amused huff at that, and you looked up to her. “What?”

“If you’d hear Kaz’s heart when he looks at you, you’d disagree with what you just said.” She grinned, her smile just growing wider when your heart skipped a beat and you blinked at her.

She never played around with things like that so you had no doubts of whether she spoke the truth. But still, you couldn’t help but think about alternative options.

Maybe he had someone else. Someone who was often around you, and Nina had just misinterpreted the situation. Even the thought of it made you miserable.

“I know that look. He doesn’t have anyone else.” Nina interrupted your thoughts again and you raised your eyebrows at her. 

“Okay, maybe not. But like, Kaz Brekker, Dirtyhands, the most ruthless crime boss any of us know, would have feelings for me? Nina, do you even realise how ridiculous that sounds?”

Nina shrugged. “Ridiculous of not, it’s still real. Just go to him and see what happens. He might not show it, but he’s going to be glad you joined him. Even if he tries to push you away. He just doesn’t know how to deal with feelings yet, give him time.”

You took in a deep breath, your eyes again shifting at Kaz as something still held you back.

“Oh, for Saints sake…” Nina mumbled and pushed you forwards. “Go on already.”

So you forced your legs to make you move forward, leaving Nina sit at the table, smirking at herself as she saw Kaz looking up to you, his heartbeat quickening a little as your heart was going crazy. After a few moments, you sat across from Kaz, looking at the blueprint in front of him and Nina congratulated herself for finally managing to make you take the first step.

---

Requests are always open! FANDOM LIST | PROMPT LIST(S) | RULES (READ!!!)

[mirnilop]

𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝑜𝓁𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝒾𝓁 𝒸𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝒹 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 ˚₊·͟͟͟͟͟͟͞͞͞͞͞͞➳❥ wally darling

⚠ tags: sfw, mob au, yandere!wally, gn!singer!reader, power imbalance, discussions of violence

♡ synopsis: you’d be surprised how many fans you accrue as a small-time lounge singer. while this is usually a good thing, one of yours happens to rule half the city, so he isn’t exactly receptive to the word “no”.

♡ word count: 5,310

⛧ﾐ‧*･ﾟ the following content may be triggering to some. please proceed with caution! ･ﾟ*‧ミ⛧

a/n: hello!! ₍ᐢ.ˬ.⑅ᐢ₎ goshh, my very first post on this acc!! i haven’t posted fanfic in a hot minute but i’m suuuper excited to get back into it!! 💞 i have sooo many wips for this fandom, it was difficult to choose which one to finish first! credit to @/clownsuu for creating the au and for the lovely art!! i tweaked the concept a wee bit so that it takes place in a roger rabbit-esque world where puppets and humans live together unharmoniously (with a jessica rabbit inspired reader ofc >v>). it was a lot of fun trying to marry wally's canon personality with a Scary Mob Boss (*´ 艸`) i can't wait to post more!! what are y'all's favourite aus? let me know!! ･*･:≡(　ε:)

There’s a rose on your vanity.

The sight of it snuffs out your high spirits, irritation igniting in its place– and it was such a good day, too! You and the girls were perfectly in sync for your entire performance, bolstered by the unusually affable audience; you even rewarded them with a sneak peek of new material, which made them go wild!

Dreams of stomping it beneath your heel stew in your head as you drop it in the faience vase at the rim of the mirror, where a crinkled, beige-tipped rose droops against the rim. Why not break the vase too? An idea that’s crossed your mind too many times, and while it gets harder to resist with each flower, you endure it. They’re presents, after all, and you doubt your admirer would take kindly to the news that you’ve trashed them. You’re certain one of his minions would obtain the evidence, if not witness you do it; you can’t pinpoint the extent to which they survey you, but the crawling sensation of eyes on your back crops up often, and obviously they have no problem barging into your dressing room to play delivery service.

Sighing, you comb through your rolling rack to pick a suitable outfit to change into. Most of the articles hanging are also gifts, but you’ve made sure to keep some of your own hard-earned clothes here out of sheer spite. A burgundy cashmere number has just slipped into your grasp when the door bursts open.

“How’s that for a show?! And what a great crowd, a whole buncha dolls! Or– well, puppets– and humans! Hahaha!”

Lottie skips in with her usual energy, the bell on her collar jingling alongside the clack of her Mary Janes. You hate that their manager mandates the bells as a part of their costumes, as if puppets being treated like second-class citizens wasn’t enough. “You wanna make money or not? It’s part of the appeal! You know, Mary Had A Little Lamb and all that!” is what he told you after one of your countless tirades regarding his treatment of them, but the sleazy smirk wrapped around his cheap cigarette allowed you to read between the lines. As much as you despise that man, it’s not your business to judge the trio for staying contracted with him. Mottie’s recalled to you how difficult it was to hire a manager at all, and you suppose you have to (begrudgingly) thank him for bringing them into your life, since he’s the one who bagged them the backup singer gig.

A swell of color in your peripheral lets you know that she’s come near, but you don’t bother diverting attention from your search. This is such a common occurrence between you two that pleasantries are no longer required.

“And they were mighty generous with the tips! So me and the gals was thinking we should go somewhere to… celebrate…”

Hearing her trail off, you turn to find her staring at the new rose, her once-perky ears fallen limp. You click your tongue, remorse prickling your heart, though you’ve done nothing wrong.

“I’ll be alright, Lottie. Here,” You grab a wad of bills from your personal tip jar and fold them into her hand. “You take your sisters somewhere nice, my treat. As an apology for having to skip out tonight.”

When she doesn’t move from her spot, merely pouting at you with big, glistening eyes full of concern, you swaddle her in a hug. Fleecy strands of shell pink hair tickle your nose as she nestles her snout into your shoulder, squeezing you like a lifebuoy. Having her in your arms is a vital reminder as to why you continue to put up with everything. Lottie, Dottie and Mottie are your beloved friends– your family when you had none– and you are willing to do whatever is necessary to build a life with them.

“Are ya sure?”

“Positive. And if that bug gives you even a whiff of trouble, you come get me right away, got it?”

She laughs, the sound a balm to the ache of your worries. “He never gives us any trouble– n’fact, I haven’t heard ‘im say a single word!”

“Good. At least one of them has manners. Now go have fun!”

After a few more hugs and a promise to relay your apology to her sisters, she trots towards the entrance. Halfway through it, she pauses.

“Promise ya’ll play nice?”

An involuntary grimace twists your face, which you smooth immediately.

“I was planning on it,” you concede, earning an exhale of relief from Lottie.

“Thanks. Honestly, I’m kinda worried...” She leans against the doorframe, gaze trained on the checkered floor. “I see more and more of that Napoleon-wannabe’s goons lately. Do ya think he’s gettin’ antsy? It’s been real quiet since that incident with Dorelaine.”

Ah, the incident. It happened a handful of months ago; he refused to go into specifics, but what you’ve gathered from his gnomic recount and various news stories is that their rival organization– led by Ronald Dorelaine, a human man– planted explosives somewhere important, racking up thousands in damages and dismembering several puppets, left to be mended with those horrific stitches. You didn’t receive another rose until several weeks afterwards.

“I can’t be sure,” you admit. “He doesn’t tell me much about the goings-on of the ‘family’, not that I care to know. But I noticed he’s been more wound up lately… maybe they’re going to retaliate?”

A visible shudder travels through Lottie, and she tosses her head as if to ward off the gravity of your predicament. It was easier to ignore the implications when there wasn’t an active turf battle.

“You’re right, we should stay as far as we can from that nasty business. Wear the red, then. To butter ‘im up a little.” She offers you a conflicted half-smile, most likely holding herself back from proposing a makeover, before sidling out the door.

Glowering, you follow the advice, shucking your tight, shimmering stage outfit for the cozy cashmere you were eyeing before. Like I need to be reminded of his favorite color. I’ve practically lived in red since I met him. It inexplicably fits like a glove, as do all of the clothes you've been bestowed; for the sake of your sanity, you prevent yourself from delving too far into that subject.

As you fix the little bits of your appearance that got mussed up during your performance, you can’t help but contemplate hiding in your room until morning, even though you know it wouldn’t work– and you’d have to pay for a broken front door. Once every speck of lint has been removed and your ensemble is flawless, you steel your resolve with a hard look in the mirror. If things go south, at least you’ll make a gorgeous open casket.

You step into your shoes and out of the dressing room, swiping your bag and a matching hat from the plethora that dangle on knobs affixed to the wall along the way. The haze that eternally permeates the lounge envelops you as you walk, no longer springing tears to your eyes like it did so long ago, when you were a starry-eyed fledgling. Upon entering the foyer, you call out to the owner, Gene, who’s counting the register behind the bar.

“Hey, I’m heading out!”

“Geez, you’re in a hurry! Got a hot date or what?”

“Something like that,” you breathe, your nerves relighting tenfold now that you’re so close to the outside.

“Ahh, I getcha.” His amusement is clear, construing an innuendo within your words that is absolutely not there, but you’d rather die than clarify. “You did a great job today, you deserve it!”

Somehow, your admirer has managed to limbo directly under Gene’s nose; thus far he’s made no indication that he’s aware he has a very important patron. For a moment, you observe him, and see how he absentmindedly rubs the pocket of his button-up– where a polaroid of his two children is safely tucked away– and you decide that it’s probably for the best.

“Thanks, Gene. Have a good one.”

“You too!”

His reply barely reaches you as you cross the threshold from the comfort of your work into the cold, pensive night. A luckier soul may have suffered a fright when greeted with the colossal figure standing below the street light, carved with shadow, but it’s a familiar sight to you now. An inconspicuous black car is parked behind him.

“Hi Howdy.”

“Evening, Mx.” He bows slightly, whisking open the sleek passenger door which you reluctantly slide inside.

“I wish you’d stop calling me that. I do have a name.” It’s true. Being addressed formally by such an important figure imbues you a with a sick feeling, like he’s won, and you’ve already been initiated into this fucked up institution.

Though he waits for you to finish speaking before shutting you in, he doesn’t grace you with a response; not that you were expecting one. In all the times he’s escorted you to these duress-dates, as you’ve taken to calling them, he’s remained stoic to a mechanical degree, acknowledging your presence and nothing more. Thrashing, crying, screaming– you’ve tried everything to escape, and have never elicited a reaction more severe than that of a tired parent handling a tantrum. If you resist, he simply manhandles you. It’s hardly a fair match, with him having 4 arms and several feet of height on you, so you opt to reserve your energy for dealing with his headache of a boss.

When he hauls his many limbs onto the driver’s seat, the car lurches, too small to accommodate a puppet of his stature; he has to hunch forward to see the windshield, antennae pushed flat. You lean back and vacantly turn towards the window, wondering if cars big enough for someone like him to drive comfortably even exist while the engine rumbles to life.

The umbrous cityscape passes you by, inklings of humans and puppets flashing in and out of the darkness like ghosts. Thick boughs of red and green tinsel are strung across a few lamp posts, but by the end of the season they’ll all be covered. Dottie’s already triple checked that you and her sisters have one day of the annual Christmas market off, even though you strike the same deal with Gene every year; the four of you get Saturday, then he gets Sunday to take his family. It’s one of your favorite times of the year, if only because you get to experience the aura of wonder that enlivens Lottie when the first snow falls, Mottie’s timid wheedling to attend The Nutcracker, and Dottie’s alphabetically-organized checklist of fun winter activities.

Those cheerful thoughts are wiped away as Howdy turns into a private garage attached to a sleek, angular skyscraper. He parks in the spot nearest to the entrance, the first in a row of spaces labeled with metal “Reserved for Staff” signs, and circles the car to let you out. The sensation of him gingerly lifting you comes with no alarm; he always assists you up the concrete stairs leading to the elevator, as if you’re so physically inept you can’t handle 3 tiny steps. You assume his needless precaution is for the same reason he hasn’t beaten you yet despite defying him so often: boss’s orders.

With a reedy knell, the elevator glides open, and Howdy signals for you to go ahead. Once you’re both inside, he inserts a key and presses the button for the uppermost level. Expecting a noiseless ride, you tune into the low muzak emitting from the speakers, which makes you miss the first time he calls you.

“Mx.”

Startled, you swivel towards him. His steadfast profile is unreadable.

“Boss doesn’t know you’ve opposed him so vehemently in the past. Please keep that in mind tonight.”

The entrance broaches before you can interrogate him as to what the hell he means, granting you entry to a luxury penthouse laved in gold, ivory, and– of course– red. A glimmering chandelier suspends from the ornamental ceiling, bathing the antique furniture in an amber glow. If you hadn’t just ridden up the elevator, you would have assumed such a lavish drawing room belonged to an old mansion.

It’s something straight out of a romance novel, except instead of a chiseled, broody Italian, it’s a short puppet sitting at the marble-topped dining table. He lounges at the head in a slate blue silk suit with its jacket buttoned to the top; an honor seemingly reserved solely for you, because it’s the only way you’ve seen him wear it, despite street tales describing the way it billows from his shoulders as he stalks the town. Revealed by its plunged neckline is the collar of a white dress shirt embossed with rainbow pinstripes, and a red ascot neatly tied and pulled askant around his throat.

Wally Darling, in the felt: kingpin of The Neighborhood, and resident thorn in your side.

When you arrive, he rises to meet you, dismissing Howdy with a pointed glance; you’ve learned that the relationship between a crime lord and his loyal bandog transcends language. You watch him as he leaves through a pair of swinging doors to the left, his cryptic advice-slash-warning heavy on your mind.

And so, you find yourself alone with the most dangerous man in the city– puppet or otherwise.

“Good evening, dearest. I hope my gift found you well.”

The concept of personal space might as well be Greek to Wally, since he hasn’t once respected it from the day you had the misfortune of making his acquaintance. He crowds so close that you have to crane your neck to see his face, the heat emanating from him eliciting shivers in your chill-soaked body.

“Yes, thank you. It was quite a lively night,” you chirp, wielding a civil smile.

Although the contours of his wispy, coiffed curls only reach your ribs, he extends his arm to you, which you take with such a featherlight hold that you barely brush his sleeve. Rather than leading you to the dining table like you expected, you’re guided towards a small lounge area to the side, the crackling croon of Billie Holiday wafting over from a refurbished stereo console in the corner. Oh, great. He’s feeling sentimental.

“Would you indulge me with a dance before dinner?”

Don't have much of a choice, do I?

“I’d love to.”

Dancing with Wally is funny, in an ironic sort of way; it certainly caught you off guard the first time he asked. When you envision dancing with a powerful, deadly mobster, you think of being swept away, wrapped snugly by strong arms and a dastardly smirk, or perhaps something more courtly, like a waltz steered by a polite hand on your waist. Turns out both versions are incorrect.

Muscle memory ushers your arms open, and Wally falls into the space in between them– literally. Slack against you, his full weight is heftier than his height would imply, but not physically uncomfortable– emotionally and morally, however, are another story. An air of pure peace washes over him as his cheek nuzzles the underside of your chest, arms limp at his sides; you swear you even hear a little trill. Your face burns, but you say nothing as you begin to sway faintly to the beat, tracing a loop with your feet as you traipse along. Wally follows easily, tethered by the reluctant cage of your embrace.

“Do you remember the night we met?”

The query is felt more than heard, his gentle monotone muffled by the downy fabric of your garb. You huff softly to yourself, rustling a few gel-slick strands atop his pompadour.

“How could I forget?”

The day the infamous Mr. Darling appeared in your club, his two largest henchmen in tow, is burned into your brain like a regrettable tattoo; Gene was off, so you were covering entertainment for the night while the sisters managed the bar and floor. As you were singing the very song playing now, you detected a curious hush that had overtaken the throng of guests, and strained to cut through the stage glare and cigarette fog to locate the cause. Tracking the audience, who were all regarding the bar with varying amounts of subtlety, you nearly dropped the microphone when you saw the broad blue back of Barnaby B. Beagle, someone you’d only heard of in gossip. He gesticulated as he spoke boisterously to poor Mottie, who was as white as a sheet behind the counter. Situated a slight ways away was Howdy Pillar, who stood as motionless as a statue with both sets of forelimbs fastened behind him.

And then you noticed him. A puppet no more than 4 feet tall, but whose oppressive presence commanded full attention. He paid no mind to the (one-sided) conversation between his colleague and your friend– no, he was staring right at you. Boring into you so acutely that you felt pinned, compelled somehow to continue singing until the final note trickled away.

As if a spell had been broken, you leapt from the platform and scurried to Mottie, who stayed petrified even when you tried to covertly nudge her to the side. How avidly you wished a fissure would open beneath their shoes and swallow them whole; but, armed with years of appeasing difficult and sordid customers, you spoke.

“Evening, fellas. I hope you enjoyed the show.”

Barnaby, who had stopped talking when you rounded the bar, bellowed a laugh.

“Fellas?! Is that any way to greet the boss and I?"

He tilted forward with menacing glee, propped up by furry elbows as his claws scraped the laminate countertop. Each of his fangs were as big as your nose.

"Dontcha know who we are, toots? Or do ya just need a refresher on respect?"

The acrid smoke from his cigar blew directly into your face, making spikes of anger bubble in your belly as you choked back a cough. Just when you felt composed enough to reply, a surprisingly mellow voice chimed in.

"It's alright, Barnaby."

The shock slacking his jaw mirrored yours, although you hid it under a mask of cool indifference. You dared a glance at Mr. Darling, but the pressure of his peer chased your gaze back to Barnaby, who grumbled as he straightened back up. It was difficult to stay trained on his good eye, but you soldiered on. Fear was not something you could afford to show, and you knew you'd crumble if you peeked at the fabled gaping socket that he stapled open himself.

"I don't suppose you're Gene Clifton, aged 54, father of two, owner of this joint?" He joked, recovered from the flub.

"No, sir, but my banker would sure be happy if I was. Can I take down a message?"

"A message! I love this bird!" Snickering cruelly, he waved a flippant paw. "Y'should try that material on stage sometime, might bring ya more customers than the singing bit."

You sucked a sharp inhale up your nose. Serenity now.

"See, here's the problem. This is family territory, and in return for our protection, we charge a teensy fee. Now, we ain't unreasonable– we've sent ole Gene a few letters. And what’s our thanks for such humble hospitality? Zilch."

Oh dear. Gene doesn't bother investigating any mail the lounge receives before tossing it because it’s typically adverts. He definitely would've noted The Neighborhood's seal if he did. Regardless, the frank abuse of power only fanned your annoyance, obscuring your better judgment.

"What protection? I don't recall seeing any of your members patrolling outside. Besides, we didn’t ask for protection."

Mottie snapped towards you, looking as though she might faint. The corner of Barnaby's mouth twitched skyward, like he was hoping you'd argue, but his boss beat him to the punch.

"We can reach an agreement, I’m sure. I'd hate to see a family establishment go under, especially when they have such lovely entertainment."

Apparently Wally was so smitten that he'd accept your company in lieu of money, and so the agreement (if you can even call it that, since you were coerced) was this– whenever a rose was delivered to you, you'd attend a rendezvous with him. When you returned to your dressing room later that evening, you discovered the first gift of several: your vase.

“I knew because of your eyes.”

The floral wallpaper in front of you shifts back into focus, Wally’s voice shaking you from your recollection.

“Pardon?”

“That night, you drew me in; I couldn’t concentrate on anything else, least of all a petty protection tax. And I knew I had to have you when I met your eyes.” He sounds dreamy, reminiscing as you were before, though his framing of events is worlds apart from your own; he recalls a destined encounter with his future partner, whereas you mark it the day your wings were clipped for good.

“They shone like stars, even through the smog.”

It’s only after he’s finished that you realize you’ve stopped moving, wrapped in an intimate hug like true lovers. A strange mix of pride and disgust floods you at the compliment, stomach flip-flopping rapidly.

He untangles from you, receding so that only your hands remain connected. The newfound distance eases some of your tension, but to your horror, you find yourself mourning the loss of the husky scent of his cologne. Loath as you are to admit it, the bastard smells amazing: a dark, leathery swirl of apples and saffron that you’d buy out if someone turned it into a candle.

“Let’s not delay any longer. You must be starving.”

True to his gentlemanly veneer, he seats you at the table before settling himself. You don’t see him call, but a server emerges immediately from the doors through which Howdy left with a tray of appetizers.

There are two graces you award Wally Darling: his excellent taste in cologne, and his staff’s Michelen-quality fare. Though they adopt the four courses typical of fine dining, the dishes are more grounded, toeing the border between grandma and Gordon Ramsay perfectly. Truthfully, you’re not even sure what to categorize it as; virtually everything is transfigured into a jello, pie, or salad, harkening back to the post-war cookbooks you used to gawk at as a child in your late mother’s library. The yellowed pictures in those books appeared extremely unappetizing, but somehow The Neighborhood makes it work.

It could be because of an illusive member named Poppy, one of the 7 who make up Wally’s illustrious inner circle. She’s scarcely seen due to her fretful and skittish nature, but Wally lauds her cooking and baking skills, regaling you in the past with plenty of kitchen mishaps that occurred when she tried to decompress by experimenting with recipes and was interrupted by their more excitable comrades. If you remember correctly, he once told you that most of the menus in rotation were created by her.

The nature of these duress-dates is wholly dependent on Wally’s mood– if he’s happy, then he’ll gladly chat your ear off about frivolous happenings in his and his friends’ private lives, though he takes care to be shrewd with any details that dive too deep into the murky underbelly lying just below. If he’s unhappy, then they can be utterly unbearable; his mere existence puts you on edge, so it’s exponentially worse when he’s out of sorts, tone curt and glare fierce.

Thankfully, he’s amiable tonight. The first 3 courses march on without incident, and painless conversation flows between the two of you, even if he does most of the talking– you’re not exactly eager to share more than you have to. It’s when the server presents dessert that things go awry.

“Say, how are those triplets you work with doing?” Wally says, spooning at the Bananas Foster. “I haven’t had the pleasure of catching a performance since our mishap a while back. So much paperwork, so little time, you know how it is.”

The mention of both your friends and the aforementioned Dorelaine incident have you bristling reflexively, but you do your best to tamp it down.

“They’re well, overall. Sometimes it’s difficult for them– their manager’s a real piece of work, and we get all types at the lounge.”

“I see…”

He lets out a long “hmmmm”, like he’s reflecting on this information.

“My family has also come upon hard times. It can be… trying, sometimes, to guide my children. Especially now, when we are under unjust attack.” He confesses, wistfully resting his chin on a thread-scarred palm. “Every family requires a head, but what is a head without a neck?”

Unjust my ass. Still, the weird metaphor confuses you.

“A neck?”

At that, his catlike grin only grows. What is he talking about?

“Yes, a neck; that is, someone who supports the head. I care for my family, so it’s only right I am cared for in return, wouldn’t you say?”

Though the phrasing is puzzling, you’re fairly confident you can infer what he’s purposefully dangling in front of you, and oh, it makes your stomach plummet. Sweat breaks out underneath your suddenly-sweltering outfit; it's as if you've been tied to a railroad and have managed to divert the train through pure will for a year, but now it's steamrolling square for you. The anxiety of impending doom renders you mute, unable to piece together a coherent thought.

Taking your silence in stride, Wally leans forward, intense as he grasps your hand in both of his own. The yellow fuzz does nothing to help how clammy you feel.

“What I mean to say is, I think that it’s time to settle down."

No.

“Wh– what? Settle down how?”

“To get married, silly.”

You’re unable to help the gasp that escapes you. No, no, no!

“Get married? You mean– to me?!”

“Of course. I’ve been courting you all this time, haven’t I?”

You sputter, and he rubs your hand as if to soothe you. His many gold rings gleam under the chandelier, teasing a glimpse of your fate.

“I know in the beginning you weren’t receptive to the idea of this life, but I've shown you that I can provide for you better than anyone else.”

Your expression must betray your surprise, because he chuckles– a slow, stilted sound that sends gooseflesh blooming across your skin.

“You thought I didn’t know? Howdy may not have reported it– which I’ll rectify in due time– but I have eyes everywhere, dear. You’re quite the talented actor, though.”

That trademark simper melts into something beguiling; he cradles you as if you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held.

“I love you, and I will take care of you, as I ask you to do for me. Doesn’t that sound wonderful?”

An inviting facade of genuine affection, so ardent that you almost want to believe it. Wouldn’t that be the easiest path to take? To surrender to the hand that feeds, because where it strangles others, it caresses you sweetly? It’s more tempting than you’d ever divulge, because underneath the armor of aplomb you've so carefully forged, you're exhausted. This burden has been yours alone to bear– and what a bear it is, because if you mess up, the people you love could be injured, or worse. So much worse.

Perhaps sensing an opening, Wally continues.

“Be reasonable. The family welcomes you with open arms! Haven’t you missed having a family?"

The words stab you right through the heart, and your waning resolve springs back tenfold by the fury that ruddies your vision. When you rip your hand away, he makes no move to stop you.

"My friends are my family. I don’t want anyone else, especially not murderers!” You snarl. “You kill people– and torture and maim them! How can you expect me to accept this?!"

"All in a day's work when cleaning up the city, unfortunately," Wally hums. "I wish we didn't have to resort to such things, but you must understand. As it is, puppets are treated as less than, and hardship runs rampant for both humans and puppets alike. You’ve experienced these firsthand.” With the elegance of a master conman, he touches his chest in mock respire. “All we wish to do is provide a safe haven for those in need– somewhere to rest your bones, enjoy a hot meal, and where everyone accepts you as their own. A home.”

You abruptly stand up, feeling like you’re wound so taut that you could erupt at any moment. The mahogany chair behind you tips over from the force, striking the floor with a leaden thud, though the sound is deafened by the blood rushing in your ears.

“Bullshit! You don’t have to start a gang to combat discrimination or help suffering people! Maybe that spiel works on the poor saps you trick into doing your dirty work, but it won’t work on me. The answer is no.”

All is still for a moment as you struggle to calm your heaving breaths, trembling and locked in a quiet stalemate with Wally, who’s as relaxed as ever. Your attention flits from his right eye to where the left would be, if not for the lesion carved from a notch above his eyelid to an inch below, giving the illusion that what lies beneath is impaled.

Oh shit.

The magnitude of what just transpired comes crashing down as your adrenaline flushes out. After playing it safe for months– stomaching unwanted exorbitant gifts, being tailed by his employees, and rousted to innumerous “dates”– you just rejected Wally Darling in the most aggressive way possible. So you do the only thing that might garner you a chance to make it out of this alive: run.

You’re halfway across the room when 4 thick arms suddenly wrangle and force you to halt, a scream ripping itself from your throat out of fear. Can this motherfucker teleport now?! How the hell did he get here so fast?? Thrashing, you throw your head back to search Howdy’s face, desperate for an ounce of the sympathy he’d offered in the elevator, but it is in vain; his stony visage is impenetrable, as though it had never wavered.

“How about you sleep on it, hm? Think about all of your options. We wouldn’t want anything to happen to those little lambs when their adorable shepherd isn’t around to protect them.”

Delicate fingers cup your jaw, making you freeze as Wally stretches up to plant a faux-kiss on your cheek, complete with a small “mwah!”. You scowl daggers at him as he collects your hat from where it flew to the floor, dusts it off, and lovingly places it back on your head before giving you a few pats.

“Aw, don’t be that way, darling. I truly meant what I said; you have beautiful eyes. I can hardly wait to try one on.”

With a snap, you’re hauled over Howdy’s back and spirited out of the room, presumably to be transported to wherever you’ll be staying. Hopefully not Wally’s quarters.

It’s all too much; you feel like you’re trapped in a nightmare. How else did you expect this to end? You’re not sure. With all of the awful things he’s done, forcing you into marriage is not beyond him. You just thought you’d have more time: to plan, to save up enough money to take the girls and race to the hills.

Tears gather on your waterlines, and the minute your mouth wobbles, they spill ceaselessly. Full-bodied sobs wrack you, the pain of Howdy’s shoulder jutting into your midsection compounding the profound ache of sorrow. All this time, you’ve been trying to fight, but there was no fight to be had; it ended the moment his eyes found yours across the lounge that day.

[novamariestark]

Don't Want Nothing But You

Summary: You and Hank have an argument. You walk out, it's over, but no amount of beer will numb the pain.

Warnings: angsty, (bad writing) like i'm so bad, how do i have any likes 🤣

Word count: 2345

Fandom: Chicago P.D

Pairing: Hank Voight x Reader

You never thought you’d ever be here. You never thought you’d walk away from him. But what could you do? What could you do? How could you continue to invest your heart and soul into a relationship where the lines of communication were painfully one-sided? He never talked to you about what was going on in his head. What he was feeling. He didn’t trust you.

You stare at your reflection in the kitchen window, your eyes bloodshot and red from the tears that have fallen. Your heart felt so heavy you thought it would drag you down any second. The now cold, quiet room that once felt like home is suffocating you.

How did you get here?

You never wanted to be that couple—the one standing on opposite sides, talking past each other. But lately, that’s all you and Hank had been. Two strangers occupying the same space, like two ships passing silently in the night. You’ve been patient, giving him time, hoping he'd open up. But it’s been weeks now, maybe months. And you’re tired.

So fucking tired.

All you wanted was something. Anything. Any shred of fucking emotion from him. Any sliver of hope that maybe he cared about you enough to let you in.

But he didn’t.

"I can't do this anymore, Hank!" you shout, your hands gripping the countertop so hard your knuckles turn white.

Hank paces in front of you, his jaw clenched, "What the hell are you talking about?" he snaps in a tone that would make most people back up, but not you, "You think this is easy for me? You think I don't have enough going on without coming home to this?"

"Coming home to what?!" you fire back, stepping closer, closing the distance between you. "To me?"

He runs a hand over his head, "I’m trying to protect you!"

"Don’t give me that bullshit!" you snap, your voice louder now, “I’m not asking you for every fucking detail, Hank. I’m asking for something real. I’m asking you to trust me, to let me in! But you won’t, will you? You’d rather push me away than admit that you need someone."

"I don’t need anyone. I’ve gotten this far on my own."

His words hit you like a punch to the gut. The pain of them wrapping around your heart and squeezing the life out of it.

More tears begin to sting your eyes, but you refuse to let them fall, “You’re right,” you breathed out, not fully trusting your voice to speak any louder, “I can’t keep fighting for someone who won’t fight for me,”

you walked away and headed towards the door.

“So, what? You’re just gonna walk away?” his voice echoing in your ears as you paused for a moment, your hand resting lightly on the doorknob.

Your voice cracks, and you take a shaky breath, “You already did,”

You swung the door open and slammed it behind you. The cold Chicago air didn’t bother you, even if it was biting at your exposed skin.

You ran to your car, chucking your bag in the passenger seat. You couldn’t get away fast enough. Your hands shaking from the cold and all the emotions that were rushing through you as you fumbled with your keys, trying to get them into the ignition. When you were finally able to slip the key in, you twisted it and the engine roared to life.

You wiped the tears that blurred your vision before pulling away. You didn’t make it far though, You couldn't. You couldn't physically keep the tears back any longer. You pulled your car over, switching the engine back off and letting your head fall forward until your forehead was resting on the steering wheel.

You don’t know how long you were there for. Just crying. But eventually you mustered up the energy to continue home. You weren’t looking forward to the loneliness, but then again, you’d been alone for a long time, you just didn’t know it or just didn’t want to see it.

You loved him so much and walking away killed you but not as much as watching him shut you out, time and time again.

When you got home, your phone started blowing up. You assumed it was Hank so you ignored it but when it kept buzzing, you finally looked at it to see Gabby’s name on the Caller ID.

You answered it with a sigh, the phone nestling between your cheek and your shoulder as you made your way to the fridge to drink whatever alcohol you had left in this place.

“Hey girl,” came her voice through the speaker, along with the background noise of Molly’s, “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said, grabbing the last couple of bottles of beer you had left. You turned behind you and opened the draw to grab the bottle opener, quickly opening your beer before tossing it on the counter ready for the next bottle, “why wouldn’t I be?”

She sighed, “Well it’s very rare we see Voight here looking like a kicked puppy,”

The thought made you smile a little. He was upset about you leaving? Did he actually care? But then you forced the smile away,

no, bad y/n. you left for a reason.

No matter how much you loved him, how much you wanted the two of you to be perfect. You knew it was never going to happen. If you were going to feel lonely, you may as well be alone, instead of having that one little thought in your mind that maybe, just maybe, one day he’d talk to me. One day, he’d trust you. Hell, he told you he didn’t need you so, fuck him. You don’t need him either. Asshole.

“Yeah well, what do you want me to do about it?” you asked, the tone in your voice slightly harsher than you intended, “Sorry”

“What happened?”

“We’re over,” you said simply as you headed towards the couch, maybe watch some tv and take your mind off him.

“You are? What did he do?”

“He said he didn’t need anyone, including me, so I left,” you took a sip of your beer before leaning forward and placing it on the coffee table in front of you. You picked up the remote and turned the tv on, turning the volume down so you could still hear Gabby.

“Well, clearly he’s regretting saying that, he’s here drowning his sorrows,”

“Look, Gabby, I love you, I do, but I just,” you paused, sniffling slightly, you wiped a stray tear that escapes your eye, “I just can’t right now,”

“Ok, babe, I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Yeah, sure,” and with that you hung up, the call screen disappearing which then shows a picture of an unaware Hank making coffee. It was a simple picture, one that used to bring a smile to your face. Whenever you had a shitty day at work, all you had to do was look at that photo and that gorgeous face would just melt all the stress away.

But now, it only brought you tears.

You lock the phone and chuck it to the other side of the couch. You surf the channels looking for something to cheer you up and sure enough you found Friends, something that always makes you laugh and thankfully, they had a few episodes lined up for you. You let yourself sink back into the cushions and before you know it, minutes turn into hours.

The night drags on painfully slow. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, your mind replaying every word, every moment of the fight. Sleep won’t come—how could it when the space was empty beside you.

You toss and turn, clutching the blanket to your chest, but nothing can lull you to sleep. You check your phone more times than you’d like to admit, hoping for a text, a missed call, anything from him. But the screen is blank.

Tears prick your eyes again. You thought you were all cried out, but the sadness still sits like a lump in your throat. The memory of his words echoes in your mind, playing on repeat.

"I don’t need anyone."

‘I bet he’s fine’ you think, ‘I bet he doesn’t give a shit’

But that wasn’t the case. Just like Gabby had told you, he was moping at the bar drinking beer after beer. One turned to ten, but you were still the only thing on his mind.

But my head is spinnin' with only you in it

No matter how many bottles he drunk dry you were still the only thing he wanted on his lips.

When I'm at the bottom the buzz and the bottle

Just ain't what I want on my lips

Three hours later, and he’s lost count of how many beers he’s drunk and you’re still on his mind. The only other thought in his head was ‘what the fuck am I doing here’

Can't drink you off my mind

What the hell am I doin' here?

I don't even want this beer

He slid off the stool and reached into his pocket, grabbing a few notes to pay for his drinks. He then grabbed his jacket off the back of the stool and headed out to his car. He had to see you. He couldn’t lose you. This couldn’t be over.

I'd rather be drunk on your love

I'm thinkin' it over and I know we're over

But I'm comin' over because (whoa)

You gave up trying to sleep. You chucked your covers away and swung your legs off the side of the bed. Your stomach started to rumble slightly and you remember that after everything, you had forgotten to eat. And damn did a sandwich sound really good right now.

You padded your way downstairs, making a beeline for the fridge. You grab the handle, opening it and pulling out your ingredients for your sandwich. You then reach over to the drawer and pull out a butter knife, but before you can begin to butter your bread, there’s a knock at the door.

You head to the door, thinking it was probably Gabby coming over to check on you after her shift, but when you open the door, you see the very face you’d been trying to forget all night.

“hey baby,” he said.

You sighed, resting your head on the door, “What do you want, Hank?” you asked, exhaustion and slight annoyance littered in your tone. Even though perhaps your heart had wanted him to come over, your mind said differently.

“I can’t lose you,” there was a slight crack in his voice, one that made you want to launch yourself into his arms, but you couldn’t. You had to stay strong. You’d just be going back to where you were. Alone, isolated, with a man who shut himself off from you.

“You were the one who said you didn’t need anyone,” you reminded him, “Or did you just mean, emotionally? Cus I’m not just going to be there for you when you want a fuck,”

“You know damn well you mean more to me than just a quick fuck,”

“Do I? How the fuck would I know that?”

He sighed, “I know,” he pointed behind you, a silent request to come in. You step aside, opening the door slightly wider, he steps in and you shut the door behind him, “I know I haven’t told you everything, or anything. But it’s not because I don’t trust you,”

“Then why?” your voice reduced to a whisper as tears start to form once more.

“Because you’re the best thing in my life. I see a lot of shit, some really dark shit at work and the only thing that gets me through it is knowing that at the end of it, I’m coming home to you. I don’t want to talk about it because I don’t want you to think about it, or worry about it. And some of the shit I do. Baby, if you knew, you’d never look at me the same,”

“Why do you think I’d run?”

“Because i-i… I don’t always do things by the book,”

“You don’t think I know that?” you asked him, taking a couple of steps closer until your chests are lightly pressed against each other. Your arms find their way around his neck, your thumbs resting on his cheeks, “I’m a lawyer, Hank, I’ve seen the bruises, heard the complaints, and prosecuted half the guys you’ve put in the hospital,”

“So you know that I,”

“Get a little rough?” you finished for him, you look up at him, your bottom lip tucked between your lips, “Yeah, I know,”

“And you’re okay with that?” he asked. He was completely baffled. He had spent endless hours thinking you’d leave him the second you found out just how dirty his hands were but, you knew? After all this time, you knew.

“I’m okay with that,” you replied, and you were, the people he was hurting were bad people. Evil people. They completely deserved it. You’d never think less of him for that, “Will you talk to me from now on?”

“I’ll do whatever you want, baby. Just don’t leave,” his arms wrap around your waist, tighter, pulling you closer to him. He pressed a kiss to your forehead then rested his head on yours.

“Anything?” you replied, your lips quickly turn into a pout, “How come you’re never rough with me?”

“What?”

“You know, you’re always so gentle with me in bed,” You start to blush slightly, looking down at your feet, “I mean, I like that, but sometimes, I want you to be, I don’t know, rougher with me,” you whispered, your voice barely audible despite the dead silence of the night. That caught him off guard. Of course he was always gentle with you, he didn’t want to hurt you.

His finger hooks under your chin, bringing you to look up at him, “You really want that?”

“I want everything”

@unhappy-hannah (i'm sorry it's bad 🤣😭) btw now obsessed with this song.

[mikalame]

Fixing up

little tom, young love, reader being a lil sweety ,tom blushing, all that ushy gushy stuff

taglist: @oppopotamus @violentnewmarley @saumspam

Tom and ___ just got done finishing a movie and were now cuddling and enjoying each others company talking about stuff that's happening in their classes/ in their life.

Tom decides to wrap him arm around her back leaning in a tad bit but still leaving quite a gap, but not enough of a gap because ___ could see how bad his hair was getting and how badly it needed a re-twist.

"Tommie your hair is so outgrown you need to re-twist it" she whines tugging at one of the dreads closest to her. "I know, mum keeps on telling me too but i cant be assed" he groans taking the dread back from the girl.

"Ooo Tommie i could do it for you, pretty pleaseee" she beggs with puppy dog eyes "i promise it wont hurt cherries on top". After a few seconds he gives it to her begging and before he realises shes gone and down the hall starting the bath for him hair.

He gets up and cracks his back "my back is gonna kill me after this" thinking back to the time where him mum had his head over the sink to get his hair re-twisted when it was wet.

As he waddled to the bath room he sees a comfy chair with pillows and blankets all huddled around with bill dvd player with some movies stacked next to it.

"Ta da, do you like, i remember you telling me how it hurt when your mum did it cause of the tub so i thought this would be better, don't tell bill i have this tho he'll kill me" she giggles patting the chair in front of her.

"I could get used to this" he says a smirk on him face as he plops down on the chair taking his hair tie out of his hair, he feels soft hands rake through the dreads and he sinks into her touch, slowly drifting off.

He groggily opened his yes when he heard giggling, he looked his shoulder and saw the girl had packed all the things away and was leaning against the bench.

He still heard giggling even tho it was not coming from the girl, confused he looked towards the door and saw Bill, his mother and his step father all crowed by the door giggling.

He looked down and saw that bill had a camera in his hand he put two and two together that he had fallen asleep and bill had taken photos of him,

Him face when bright red in embarrassment and lunged forward to bill to grab the camera off of him but bill slipped away, Tom got tugged back by a soft hand on his own, he instantly knew it was the girl and didn't try to hard to pull back as he hung his face.

As the 2 adults walked away she closed the door, spewing complements that made his face even redder "stopp" he would whine but she just kept on going.

After a few minutes of this they hear a car pull up and Toms mother yells "___, your parents are here to pick you up" as she grabs the last of her things from the bath room she hugs tom goodbye whispering in his ear.

"You are such a cutie sleeper Tommie, i love you, see you at school" kissing his cheek goodbye. As he stands there shocked at what just happened he blushed again.

'Click' he hears and sees bill with his camera taking more pictures of him "Get back here BIll. UGH im gonna kill you!!" Tom yells at his Brother as he runs down the hall squealing.

Hope you enjoyed, dorry this is short im doing this before bed lol,

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