#like listen I know he does fight/lift stuff

[throttleheart]

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Things we left unsaid

Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff

Word Count: ~1.1k

Summary: You, Lando & confessions.

Masterlist

⸻

It starts with a text.

Lando [5:41 PM]

you home?

You [5:42 PM]

yep blanket burrito on the couch why?

Lando [5:42 PM]

perfect i’m on my way

You blink. Sit up.

You [5:42 PM]

??? you can’t just show up mid-burrito

Lando [5:43 PM]

sure i can i’m bringing snacks

You [5:43 PM]

…okay fine what kind of snacks?

Lando [5:44 PM]

you’ll see (also tell your blanket to make room for me)

⸻

He shows up fifteen minutes later with a paper bag full of stuff that shouldn’t go together but somehow works—popcorn, sour candy, chocolate-covered pretzels, a single apple for “balance.”

“You know,” you say as he dumps it all on the coffee table, “this is a chaotic spread.”

He grins. “It’s us. We’re chaotic.”

You roll your eyes but scoot over, tugging the edge of your blanket open.

Without hesitation, he slides in next to you. Close enough that your legs press together under the blanket, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

It kind of is.

You put on a movie—something neither of you really watches. The room is dim except for the screen, and everything feels quieter than it is.

At some point, your head ends up on his shoulder.

At some point after that, his arm settles behind you, fingers brushing your hair absently.

And neither of you moves.

⸻

Halfway through the movie, you shift to look at him. Your faces are inches apart.

He doesn’t pull back.

He just stares at you like he’s trying to memorize your face in this exact light, with this exact expression—soft, curious, almost-smiling.

Your heart’s doing that fluttery thing again. The one that says go even when your brain’s whispering wait.

You speak first. “This feels… different.”

“Yeah,” he says, voice low. “It does.”

You swallow. “In a good way?”

He nods. “In a really good way.”

You pause. “So are we…?”

His fingers brush your jaw, featherlight. “We can be whatever you want us to be.”

You’re quiet. Not because you don’t know what you want—but because you do.

“I want this,” you say. Barely a whisper. “I want you.”

He exhales slowly, like he’s been holding his breath for days.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

You nod.

And this time, he doesn’t hesitate.

He leans in—slow, deliberate—and when his lips meet yours, it’s gentle at first. Careful. The kind of kiss that feels like a question.

You answer it by leaning in closer.

And then it deepens.

Not rushed. Not messy. Just real.

When you finally pull back, your forehead rests against his, your smile tugging at your lips like it can’t help it.

“That was…” you start.

“A bit overdue?” he offers, grinning.

You laugh. “Yeah. That.”

He tightens his arm around you. “Told you I wasn’t going anywhere.”

You rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

For the first time in a long time, you feel steady, too.

⸻

At one point, Lando shifts, glances at you. “Can I…?” he asks, motioning toward your lap.

You blink. “My lap?”

He gives a sheepish little shrug. “It looks comfortable.”

You lift an eyebrow but smile. “You’re such a menace.”

He grins, already laying down, head gently resting on your thighs. “But a charming one.”

You don’t argue. You just adjust the blanket, tuck it around both of you again, and softly card your fingers through his hair.

He hums. Eyes flutter closed. His lashes fan over his cheeks, and you swear your heart squeezes.

It’s quiet for a while. Just the soft hum of the TV and the gentle rhythm of your fingers in his hair. Every few seconds, his hand—resting on your knee—twitches slightly, like he’s fighting the urge to move closer, speak louder, say more.

Then, slowly, he turns his head and presses a light kiss to your knee through the blanket. Then, again, but to your hand this time—just a gentle press of his lips against your skin, like he’s thanking you without words.

You freeze for half a second.

And then melt.

Because it’s not loud. Not demanding. It’s soft and reverent and real.

His thumb brushes over your fingers, and he whispers without opening his eyes, “I don’t think I’ve ever felt this safe with someone.”

Your throat tightens.

“Me neither,” you whisper back, fingers curling gently around his hand.

You lean down, resting your chin on his shoulder lightly.

And for a long while, neither of you needs anything more than this.

⸻

Lando doesn’t move much after that.

He stays curled against you, cheek resting softly against your thigh, one hand loosely cradling yours like he’s afraid to let go—even in his sleep. His breathing evens out slowly, each rise and fall of his chest syncing with the rhythm of your fingers brushing through his hair.

You glance down at him.

His lashes are still, mouth parted slightly, expression softened into something completely unguarded. He looks younger like this. Softer. And it hits you again—how rare this kind of quiet is for someone like him. Always moving. Always on.

And now… he’s here. Asleep in your lap. Like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

You don’t dare move.

The TV drones on, forgotten. Your focus is entirely on him—the weight of his head, the warmth of his hand, the way your heart feels full and fragile all at once.

You didn’t expect this kind of closeness to feel so easy.

Or maybe it’s not easy—it’s just right.

You shift slightly, just enough to adjust the blanket over him, careful not to wake him. Your fingertips drift along the curve of his jaw for a moment, feather-light.

And when he sighs in his sleep, thumb twitching against your palm, you feel it again—this pang in your chest like something’s blooming and breaking at the same time.

Because you’re falling.

So slowly, so deeply.

And you don’t want it to stop.

Not when he looks like peace personified in your lap.

Not when your hands still remember the press of his lips from earlier.

Not when you’ve never felt safer with anyone in your life.

You let your head fall back against the couch cushion. Close your eyes. Just breathe him in.

And you think, God, I’m in trouble.

But it doesn’t scare you like it used to do.

Not even a little.

⸻ ⸻ ⸻

Masterlist

[sttoru]

⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. a relaxing day at the beach w/ toji ‘n little megumi, accompanied by their usual bickering and precious moments

tags. dad!toji x wife!female reader. fluff. honestly just the beach episode toji deserves w his family t_t not proof read!

the beach is a beautiful place to rest after a tough week. toji lays on the towel besides yours, bulky arms resting behind his head as he enjoyed the gentle breeze, the smell of the sea mixed with his wife’s perfume.

the peace is quickly disturbed when he feels a small fist claw at his mouth.

“‘gumi, don’t feed papa sand,” your muffled laughter echoes through the busy beach. you watch your husband attempt to fight off megumi’s tiny hands as they pry his lips apart.

toji grunts and moves his head multiple times, but the toddler is determined to get what he wants. “brat—” the dark-haired man scoffs while his hands wrap around megumi’s torso, lifting the little boy in the air as his final resort, “what’s this all ‘bout? wanna kill y’r daddy or sum?”

your son pouts and furrows his brows. “no, i made papa food. burger,” he defends himself and kicks his legs while being held up at arms length. megumi’s tiny fist full of sand manages to reach his father’s lips again, “now papa eat!”

toji lifts megumi up higher, as far away from his face as possible. he takes a second before realising that he indeed had made a request for a burger just moments ago, when his son asked him what he should make out of the sand.

toji totally forgot to play along with megumi’s pretend restaurant game, thinking the boy would halfway forget about it anyway. children’s attention spans are short after all.

seems like his kid is an exception.

“i ain’t eatin’ shit, boy,” toji grunts and turns megumi away, putting the boy back down in the sand between the two beach towels. you’re about to reprimand your husband for his behaviour before your child interrupts.

“this not poo poo!” megumi jabs a finger at his father’s chest, his voice a bit louder. he’s taken great offence to the comment about his imaginary burger, which was now but a cluster of sand particles.

toji snorts and gently flicks megumi’s hand away, “yeah, it is. bet it tastes like ‘poo poo’ too.”

“no! not poo poo!” megumi’s voice rings out before a frustrated whine leaves his lips. his little hands land on toji’s abs, physically punishing him for saying such mean stuff about his hard handiwork.

your husband sticks his tongue out childishly at his sulking son. “‘yes! yes ‘tis poo poo!’ keheh,” toji mocks megumi’s high voice, snorting as he laughs about his own joke afterwards.

the father-son duo bicker for a few more seconds before you sigh and speak up. “can you two just get along for once now? we’re in public, so behave,” you scold them as their voices seemed to get louder. you then glare at your immature husband. he could be such a man-child when it came to arguing with his son, “and you— you’re an adult, so act like one.”

the two of them instantly shut up and their heads turn towards you, their hands that were wrestling with each other also stopping mid-air. megumi pouts and stops attacking his father with his tiny fists. the little boy knows better than to not listen to his mother.

in turn, toji huffs and grumbles something under his breath before grabbing his son to make it up to him.

neither does the grown man dare to defy his wife’s demands.

“yeah, yeah. c’mere, son,” toji responds and places the toddler on his chest, letting the kid rest against him. megumi surprisingly doesn’t pull away and instead curls up in toji’s warm embrace. as much as the two love to (playfully) fight, they also get along extremely well.

you smile and relax back on the palms of your hands. “much better,” you hum in content. your heart swells with affection for your two favorite people on earth. megumi is a carbon copy of his father and it’s the cutest little thing ever.

they both have that subtle pout on their lips as they accommodate to being close and cozy with each other again.

toji runs his callused fingers through megumi’s hair, sighing as he closes his eyes. he doesn’t admit it out loud, but he cares for his kid. if he had to make a choice between either saving his own life or megumi’s, toji’d instantly draw his last breath.

“he’s still a brat,” your husband grumbles to you, sharp eyes watching the way you coddle and coo over the toddler. megumi’s chubby cheek is smushed against toji’s chest and it was an adorable sight. you giggle and capture it on your phone.

toji scoffs, but can’t help the grin tugging at the corner of his scarred lips. he gently rubs the child’s cheek with his knuckles before continuing, “but he’s my brat. ain’t that right, boy?”

megumi lets out a small, soft grunt at his father’s words. the kid is completely silent, content with the way things had played out. perhaps this is what he secretly searched for as well— to receive toji’s attention and a glimpse of his affection.

“aww, how cute!” your smile is beaming as you snap another picture of your family. toji’s soft look is perfectly captured on your phone, with him gently touching megumi’s chubby cheek as the boy laid on his bare chest. pure domestic bliss.

you sigh and look away for one second to change the lockscreen on your phone. humming, you go to your settings and instantly put the picture of your husband and son as your wallpaper on nearly everything.

you tilt your head back only to find toji grinning from ear to ear now, going from gently rubbing megumi’s cheek to full out squishing them between both his hands, amused at the way the fat moves. “kehehe, look at ‘em,” he chuckles.

the little toddler eventually gets fed up with it after squirming and grunting. megumi brings his little fist up—the same one that still had some sand stored from before—and lets the content fly all over toji’s face.

megumi giggles and scrambles off toji’s lap with a victorious grin. he points at his father who’s struggling with getting the sand off his face, the man sputtering and grumbling. he sticks his tongue out, “tha’s papa’s burger.”

you watch as your son waddles over to you and hides into your arms, muffled laughter echoing in your ears. seems like megumi won the battle in the end; successfully holding onto the sand he was planning to feed his dad one way or another.

toji spits out a bit of sand that flew into his mouth from the kid’s surprise attack, “you little shit—”

well, there goes the peace again. you shake your head, but let the two play and fight it out on their own.

. . . just another day in the fushiguro family.

[melangedeparfums]

AT THE SUPERMARKET

masterlist

toji fushiguro x pregnant!reader

tw: crack (attempts to), fluff, reader is pregnant with megumi, toji calling reader “ma, mama”, weird pregnancy cravings, not proofread.

“yellow or green?”

“hmm?”

“toji, are you listening to me?” you sighed in the middle of the alley of the supermarket, waving two baby pyjamas in each of your hands.

“i’m not buying my son a pyjama with fucking cows eating grass on it, ma’.”

“toji.”

running errands with toji was a nightmare. he was always behind you, his chest pressed against your back while he caged you before the cart, listening half the time to whatever you were saying. he also glared to anybody who dared stare at you for too long, ready to fight if needed while you offered apologetic smiles to whoever would come across your husband behaviour. that was always the same thing with him. having toji to lift the bags, push the cart, and pay was great - but his scary dog attitude was a lot to deal with.

“so, green or yellow?” you repeated, now that you had his full attention.

“green.”

“yellow it is.” you put the yellow pyjama - the one with the cows eating grass - in the cart, while he pushed it, his lips spreading into a half-smile. he knew you - you always got what you wanted, even if he found the pyjamas atrocious, and that it would make his son look like a fucking minion, he would bear it, for you.

toji couldn’t really understand why buying cute little stuff for your child - that wasn’t even born yet - seemed to always put you in a good mood. little socks, bobble hats, and everything that went with it. megumi - as he insisted on naming him - could wear nothing and he would love his son the same. but, he wouldn’t question it, not with you. the sigh of your swollen belly made his chest flutter with warmth, his dark blue eyes softening slightly. your were glowing with pregnancy, delicate skin flushed with heat, eyes gleaming with excitement - when you didn’t want to kill him half of the time - feeling his own heart stutter in his ribcage. he often couldn’t believe how someone so pure would want to do anything with him - but the universe worked in mysterious ways, not that he was really complaining.

“you know what i really crave right now?” your question seemed to pull him out of his thoughts, his eyes finding yours.

“cheesecake? fries and ice-cream?”

“no. i want strawberries with burrata, or avocado with chocolate….” your eyebrows knitted, a little pout on my lips, your eyes darting between both options, your hands on your belly. which one to get? it seemed like a whole dilemma, your mouth watering just thinking about it. your husband was used to it: it could take hours for you to choose, changing your opinion at least five times to be finally decided.

“which one does he want?” toji asked, my chin titling to your belly. he learnt how to be patient, his dearly wife deserved every once of the patience he could summon. so, if you took it seriously, he would too, even if you had to spend twenty minutes deciding. so, be it. your were the mother of his son after all.

“i don’t know.” toji took a package of strawberries and the peanut butter. he made you smell one after the other, his eyes narrowing to watch every detail of your reaction. since you were pregnant, indecision seemed to claw at you, your cravings changing every time.

both of you waited for the little blessing in your belly to manifest himself, to kick or even move.

nothing.

absolutely nothing.

“he’s sleeping i think.” you finally announced, a sigh leaving your lips.

“hey, megumi, wake up and tell your mother-“ yes, toji was patient with you, but if his soon-to-be-born child could help him, even a little bit, he would feel extremely grateful right now.

“toji.”

“i was dead ass serious.” the little pout on your lips softened him, as he leaned to kiss your forehead with gentleness. “it’s okay, we can take both.”

“really?” your eyes seemed to lighten, eyelashes fluttering with hope.

“yes, mama.” he put everything in the cart without thinking twice. he would indulge your weird pregnancy cravings if he got to look at your adorable smile every single day.

arriving at the checkout, toji didn’t think twice and skipped the line: one of the perks of having a pregnant wife after all. he would use all the advantages - for you, like for him, “my wife is pregnant” being his favourite line every time he went out - even without you. skipping the line, using the parking spot (even when you weren’t pregnant) or taking every discount coupons that crossed his line of sight. yes, toji was a freeloader.

“you take too much pleasure in skipping the line.”

“hey, we are pregnant.”

his huge frame hid your body from the sight of the rest of the line. he listened intently to every word coming out of your mouth, his palm under his chin.

“sir, you’re not allowed to skip the line.” said an old woman, her eyebrows knitted. toji didn’t answer - in fact, he didn’t give a fuck about respecting the elders. why was she even bothering him?

“where are your manners?” she continued, her hands clutching her cane with frail hands, her eyes narrowing on his back.

fighting with other customers to have priority was one of toji’s favourite hobbies but today, he didn’t have the patience. instead, he didn’t waste time and spin you to show the old lady your round belly, a small squeal leaving your lips, his huge hands turning you by the shoulders making you almost dizzy in the process.

“my priority card is here, old hag.”

“toji!”

────

first time writing here (instead of studying), i don’t usually like the pregnancy trope but i liked the idea, so there we go! english isn’t my first language btw ✌🏻

[joelsbloodyhands]

Man vs. Bear

Millionaire!Joel Miller x Reader

Summary: Joel does everything in his power to get back something of sentimental value to you that your ex discarded like it was nothing.

Warnings: no outbreak, discussions of emotionally @bus!ve ex, mentions of types of emotional/psychological domestic @buse, mentions of controllative ex, mentions of smoking and alcohol, crying, reader is sad but Joel is gonna fix everything, protective!Joel, vengeful!Joel, mentions of blood, physical harm (haha guess who that’s for, hint read the first warning), fluff, reader has gender neutral pronouns, reader has no visible disabilities, Ellie and Sarah are 7 & 8 in this, if you don’t like adults with plushies get the hell off my blog ⛔️ we all protect our inner child here.

Dividers by @uzmacchiato 🧸

“Why are you crying, sweetheart?” Joel turns the corner to your bedroom and sees you sitting there on the edge of the bed, face in your hands and your head shaking when you turn from him.

You had just returned home when he called.

Your new apartment getting some used to.

Joel had been a friend of yours for a while.

Quite often, your own work collaborated with his company and through a mutual friend, Frank, you started a more friendly relationship.

Simply platonic, nothing more.

Or so you thought.

“Darlin?”

Joel sits next to you carefully, not wanting to intrude in your moment of emotion. He knows you well enough to know you don’t normally cry in front of people, usually feeling uncomfortable with the idea of expressing your outbursts publicly for fear of being coddled.

“What happened? Did that asshole give you back all your stuff?”

“I guess,” you sniffle, eyes red and lips puffy.

Joel’s eyebrows furrow, his heart pacing.

I guess isn’t good enough for him.

Joel doesn’t like working without absolutes. Either that asshole gave you everything you had and everything that belongs to you rightfully or there was going to be a problem.

“What’s missing?” Joel eyes the boxes scattered around your bedroom, one with books half pulled out and stacked half-hazardly by your bedside table.

You’re silent, your eyes distant and welling with tears.

“It’s stupid,” you harshly rub a sleeve against your face causing Joel to wince and take your hand in his own.

You look down at your small palm engulfed by his large warm fingers, rubbing soothing circles into your wrist. You lift your gaze and meet soft brown eyes, searching your own blurred vision like he was ready to travel to the underworld to take the tears away.

“It can’t be stupid if you’re so upset, honey,” Joel says, his voice low and gentle.

Your face is hot but at this point you’re not sure if it’s from how long you’ve been crying or the fact you can’t stop thinking about Joel’s calloused fingers grazing your skin.

You look away from him, deliberating telling him and ultimately you do with the thoughts that at this point it can’t hurt. There’s nothing that can be done about it now anyway.

“When I um, when I went back to the house, I went to our- his room and I used to have well, my childhood plushies on my side of the bed but…” you drop your gaze, the lines between your brows tightening.

Joel has seen this look before.

You’re angry with yourself.

“I asked him where they were and he told me I took too long that he just threw them away along with some of my other things!” Your voice gets louder with the growing anger you’re feeling and Joel gets it, his own teeth are grinding behind the thin line of his lips as he listens.

“Did he say exactly where he “threw” them?” Joel asks, his brain already scheming.

“Not at first,” you huff, “but then I picked up a glass from the side table and threw it at him.”

Joel fights a smirk from his lips. Now is not the time to be visibly attracted to that.

“He said he might’ve thrown them in the garbage or he might’ve sent them to a thrift store. He wouldn’t tell me which. He’s such a prick, Joel,” your eyes are welling up again and Joel squeezes your hand, “he just stood there grinning like he was happy he’d found another way to break me.”

“No, baby,” Joel shakes his head, his eyes intent on you when you meet his gaze again, tears falling down your cheeks, “he hasn’t broken you and I’m gonna do everything I can to find them for you.”

You shake your head exasperated.

“Joel, fuck knows where they are. Knowing him he definitely threw them in the trash. They’ve probably been incinerated somewhere.”

You’re hiccuping now and Joel can’t handle it.

The pain on your face is too much to bare.

“My Grandmother got me those plushies when I was a baby. I’m such an idiot. I just got so caught up in getting out of that fucking apartment that I forgot the two most important things in there.”

You’re beating yourself up and Joel’s had enough.

“What do they look like?” He asks, his body itching to find out as much as possible, rush to another room and call every contact he knows to track them down.

“One is a brown wolf and the other is a panda bear. They’re really old. The panda is more blue and white because of how faded the black is and my wolf is a little skinny and has one leg shorter than the others. He needed new stuffing and I had to stitch his leg back on a few years back when the cotton wore away.”

Joel knows you’re rambling because of how sad you are, reminiscing about your childhood friends but he listens just like he always does. He doesn’t play around when it comes to what matters to you and the more you go on about the intricacies of your old soft pals, the more fuel Joel has to find them.

“I guess it doesn’t matter,” you let out a heavy breath, your fingers loose in his, “maybe I need to let them go. I’m only giving him what he wants by reacting like this.”

Joel squeezes your hand again and he wants to hold you, reassure you that he will find them at all costs, even if he has to have this bastard of an ex of yours kidnapped and interrogated to find out what he did with them. Down to every last detail.

But he lets you stand, watches you take slow breaths to steady yourself and start gathering the rest of your books in the open box in front of you to put them away.

Joel joins you, quietly requesting you guide him to stock your apartment with your treasures. Anything he can do to help and he will.

After all, he was also the one who found this apartment for you. Paid the full cost himself and linked the monthly bills to his account.

Not that you knew any of that of course.

As far as you were aware, this was one of Joel’s bachelor pads he was letting you occupy for as long as you needed.

He knew you wouldn’t move in otherwise if he offered to buy the place but you’d saw the ad online and showed it to Joel. He made up some lame story that it actually belonged to him and he was going to sell it but that you could live in it while he was waiting for a buyer.

Now he had you asking if there would be any showings that you needed to be aware of.

More lies.

However, Joel had a plan.

One that involved him confessing his feelings for you.

One that involved keeping you here, safe and supported regardless of whether you reciprocated his romantic feelings or not.

Friend or lover, he would take care of you.

That asshole had treat you like hell and Joel was glad to see you rid of him.

He wanted to give you the best. Everything you could ever desire and this would be a good starting point.

Come rain or shine, Joel would bring those childhood plushies back to you, no matter the effort or the cost.

“Joel, what the fuck is this?”

Joel rolls his eyes, a gruff response already huffing past his lips as he listens to his assistant, Tess mock the list she’s now reading through.

“Something for Sarah and Ellie?”

To be honest, he gets that Tess might think that and not that Joel thinks any which way of an adult having plushies, it would just make the request go ahead a lot easier if he complies.

“Sure,” he mutters, “for Sarah and Ellie.”

“Riggght,” Tess mumbles, her lips whispering each bullet point from the text Joel had sent earlier, “so what they lost a couple of their favourite toys and you’re trying to get them back? Bet you were the one who lost em in the first place-“ she laughs.

“Tess, focus,” Joel shakes his head, his brain doing overtime thinking about everything that needs to be done. “I need you to contact every garbage disposal unit in town and every thrift store with the description provided and tell them what we’re looking for.”

“Ookay,” Tess releases a heavy breath on the other end, “and what are you gonna do?”

Joel’s lips press into a fine line, relaxed with concentrated anger, “I’ve got something I need to handle and then I’ll join you once I’m done.”

“Noted,” Tess says, her tone taking on its more motivated edge, “I’ll get right on it.”

The apartment you lived in before was cheap and convenient but he knew you hated it.

It barely had any windows and the front window to the lobby was smashed in and covered over with mesh.

The street itself was busy and loud, a main route for the city traffic to come piling through. You never looked like you got a good nights sleep, forever seeming tired.

Joel knew all of this just from the outside.

Truth be told, that ex of yours never let a single one of your girlfriends in and Joel had an inkling that when your ex first heard of him, you probably lied and said he was married or dating one of the other girls.

He was an utter complete control freak.

Emotionally abusive.

Just the mention of another guys name and he would flip a switch.

Joel fucking despised him the minute he saw him.

He may have been good to you once. Your heart was too pure. You must have seen something that resembled sunshine once upon a time but whatever that was fizzled out as soon as your ex trapped you within these crumbling walls.

Joel grimaced at them now from the backseat of his car. His driver having pulled over and parked, now lingering silently from the front seat.

“We doing this or what?”

Joel turned his head towards the eager voice.

“This the place?” Tommy raised a brow, his head peering past Joel and through his window.

Tommy had invited himself along for more than just the car ride. He loved you just as much as Joel did and it irked him to know you’d spent almost five years cooped up with a complete prick.

Tommy was the first person to refer to you as family, confirming in Joel’s mind that he saw you the same way and then some.

“Yeah, this is it,” Joel responds, his eyes narrowing back to the side walk.

“How d’you wanna do this?” Tommy’s voice lowers and Joel has to bite back a grin at the uncaring way he feels about roughing up your ex in his own home.

Joel would make it hurt. Payback for all the years the little fucker had spent torturing you.

“I have some words to say to him first and then I’ll let you have at him,” Joel turns his head back to Tommy who nods satisfied.

If there was one thing Tommy was always good at, it was starting a fight. God only knows the amount of times Joel got called to the police station to bail him out. Only this time, his little brothers want for emotional release wouldn’t be wasted.

“Alright, let’s get it done,” Tommy steps out the car, slamming the door behind him.

“Go for a drive around the block and come back in thirty,” Joel instructs to his driver; a young twenty something whose family had worked for Joel for years.

“You got it, boss,” the kid replies and Joel steps out the car, looking up at the one rare window to the dark apartment above.

Joel’s heart pounds.

He told himself the drive here that he was doing this for you but it was just as much for himself too. He wouldn’t let another man walk all over you again. Whether Joel was breathing or not, he would make sure you were safe.

“Well?” Joel sits with his legs rested on his desk and his phone buried between his chin and shoulder.

Rolling tobacco between his fingers, he ignores the dried blood still present under his finger nails, too eager to know if Tess has made any progress.

“So far, nada but I’m waiting for some responses,” she replies and Joel’s eye twitches at the sound of Tess’s fingers click clacking on her keyboard on the other end.

He sighs, licking the paper of his cigarette and securing it.

You’d be frowning at him right now if you could see him.

He promised to quit and he’d reduced his smoking to almost a complete stand still but with all the excitement earlier, Joel needed to take the edge off before seeing you.

“This is important, Tess,” Joel puts the cigarette in his mouth and lights it, throwing the lighter across the table harshly and placing a finger on his temple.

He hears her scoff on the other end.

“Can you not just buy them new ones? Kids usually get over this sort of stuff. I mean how many toys do they have-“ Tess rambles.

“This is not something that can be replaced,” Joel sharply responds, his voice raised, silencing his assistant on the other end with a harsh tone.

He intakes a breath, steadying himself and flexing his fist on his thigh.

“Not everything can be replaced. I need them found and if they’re not found, it’s going to make someone- I mean Sarah and Ellie very unhappy and I can’t accept that,” Joel taps the ash from his cigarette as he speaks uneasily.

Tess is still silent a minute until she sighs through the phone and the noise in the background disappears, her voice coming in clearer.

“I understand, Joel. Give me a couple of hours and I swear I’ll find them.”

Joel smiles, smoke escaping past his lips.

“Thank you, Tess. I’ll await your call.”

He hangs up, leans his head back, taking another drag and blowing out smoke to the ceiling above.

He thinks of you and what happened earlier.

Unfortunately for your ex, Tommy had brought his lucky knuckle dusters.

When Tommy was done with him, Joel leered over the young man, his eyes taking no notice of the blood joining the other unknown stains in the carpet surrounding where your ex was splayed out.

The whole time your ex chanted about how he never hit you. That he never laid his fists on you, not once. Though physically hurting someone wasn’t the only way to torture a person and Joel knew you suffered every day you spent with this piece of shit.

Constant texts asking you where you were, an absurd amount of missed phone calls while you were trying to work. You left your phone at a technician once to remove a spy device that had been installed. You hadn’t said anything about where it might’ve come from because you already knew and when Joel found out, he knew too. It was no question. Constantly telling you what to wear, berating you for your choice of clothing, your makeup, your hair and the things you liked. He complained about your friends and got on edge every time he heard a masculine name being mentioned.

The little shit was clearly insecure as hell that you would leave him but that’s on him, not you. You don’t deserve to be at the end of his problems constantly being projected onto you.

And Joel told him all of this.

Joel told him how little of a man the fucker was and then let his brother beat him.

Three years of hurt reduced to one hour of abuse.

It didn’t feel like enough of a punishment but Joel would show him how it felt to really hurt. He would show him your pain translated into a fist being pummelled into his face repeatedly.

Tommy delivered.

Joel asked him about your plushies. The dumb kid said he’d sent them out in the trash after all.

He texted Tess immediately.

At least it would help take the focus away from anywhere else they might’ve ended up.

Joel told the brat that if he told anyone what happened, Joel would make sure he’d disappear in the night. That he would send someone to take him away and no one would ever find him again.

Thankfully, the bastard believed him and rightly so because Joel doesn’t just talk the talk. When he makes a promise, he sees it through.

The sound of Joel’s phone vibrating in his pocket woke him from his racing thoughts that the tobacco was failing to drown out.

Considering something a little stronger, he eyed the decanter of whiskey on his desk before skimming his eyes over your name on his phone screen.

He smiled and clicked answer, your voice like music to his ears.

You were more soothing than any substance Joel could ever partake in.

“Hey, darlin,” he greeted, voice soft just for you.

“Hey Joel,” you replied and he could hear the tiredness in your tone.

“You okay?” Joel asked, his brows furrowing wanting nothing more than for Tess to deliver good news so he could see you smile.

“Yeah, long day. I just wanted to hear your voice. Is that okay?”

Joel swore you had a way of melting his frozen heart. He had once thought only his daughters had that capability until you came along.

“Of course, baby.”

Little does he know your heart skips a beat at the pet name leaving his lips as it does every time he speaks to you.

“You still at work?” Joel stubs out his cigarette into an ashtray, quirking a brow at the sound of rustling papers in the background.

“Yeah,” you release a heavy breath, “just finishing up.”

Joel looks to the clock, reading 7:30pm. You were meant to clock out hours ago.

His face falls.

“Darlin, have you eaten today? You’ve had dinner, right?”

He hears you sigh and can picture you running a hand down your face.

You sound stressed.

“Not yet but I will just as soon as I get home, I promise.”

Joel meanwhile having put you on speaker phone finishes a text to his driver to wait outside for him.

“How about I come get you right now? We can go get dinner together. How does that sound?”

He hears you chuckle on the other end.

“Why did I have a feeling you would say something like that?” You’re smiling on the other end, cheeks practically hurting.

“Any excuse to see you, sweetheart,” Joel bites his inner gum, excited and eager to be with you. “How about sushi?”

“Takeout?” You ask in a nervous lilt.

Joel hums in confirmation, “Your place?”

“It’s still a little messy,” you say in small voice.

“Gotta christen it somehow, honey. First dinner in a new place,” Joel teases.

“Mm, it’s not new though. You’ve eaten dinner in there before, surely?” You’re puzzled on the other end.

Joel’s confused a minute before remembering what he had told you about the place being his.

“Oh yeah, of course but this is a first for you, right? It’ll help you settle in,” Joel grimaces.

“Yeah you’re right,” you nod on the other end and Joel releases a silent breath.

“Be there in five?” Joel’s already by the door, pulling on his overcoat.

“Can’t wait,” you say sweetly and Joel practically swoons, almost missing a step on the staircase as he ends the call with you.

“We got em, Joel.”

Joel doesn’t think he’s ever heard Tess sound so proud before in her life and she once had to practically organise a fucking ark to send some cattle to a farm he owned a few states over, after he bought them a couple years back.

Joel shoulders sag in relief, he pinches between his eyes with a toothy grin, “I fucking knew I could count on you, Tess. You got them with you?”

“Damn right. You weren’t kidding when you said they were old. They look a little worse for wear, Joel,” she cringes, looking over the dirty bears with concern.

Joel scans the office building they’ve pulled in front of, tapping a message to you to let him know he’s out front.

He keeps an eye on the door while he talks.

“How bad are they? Any tears? Any lost limbs?”

Tess laughs on the other end, loud too.

Joel meanwhile is as serious as if he was conducting a full debrief on a wounded soldier.

“Christ Joel, you’re talking about them like they’re real but nah mostly just need a good clean. One of them is barely a plush at all, hardly has any plump to it.”

Joel has no idea Tess is holding your wolf by its foot like it’s diseased, her face scowling at it.

“Yeah…actually if you could fix that I’d be grateful,” Joel thinks aloud, conscious he’s still waiting for you.

“Uhh…I’m not much of a textiles kind of gal but I’ll do my best. You want me to drop them off in a little bit once they’re ready?” Tess asks.

Joel’s eyes light up at the sight of you tugging the building door open, your eyes wincing at the heavy downpour of rain that’s just started.

“Yeah, but uh, shit, yeah I forgot. I need you to drop them off at this address.” Joel types your apartment address and sends it across in a text.

“You bought another place? Okay. No worries. I’ll be there.”

“Just leave them by the door and drop me a text. I want it be a surprise, ya know?” Joel smiles at you when you meet his eyes through the window, running to the opposite side to escape the rain.

“Sure, be there soon,” Tess confirms and hangs up.

Joel shoves his phone in his pocket and reaches his hand forward just as you’re buckling your seatbelt, moving wet hair from your forehead.

You beam at him, dimples creasing and sending Joel’s heart crashing against his rib cage.

“Hungry?” He manages, his hand seeking yours to squeeze it affectionately.

“Starving,” you squeeze his hand back.

Sushi went down a treat.

Even if you did scold Joel for trying to buy all your favourites with the excuse of stocking your fridge with leftovers.

To his surprise, you both ate on the bed, complaining that you needed comfort, already jumping into pyjamas and making Joel slip into a T-shirt and sweatpants to relax.

Joel encouraged you to talk about your day. Partially to keep the attention of the events of his own day but mostly because he needed to know every moment of your life when he wasn’t in it.

You were just in the middle of telling him a story about someone “accidentally” sending over twenty requests to print a kinky fan art of some fictional bounty hunter at work when, Joel felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.

He distracted you by presenting a plate of chocolate mochi from the kitchen and excusing himself towards the bathroom only to detour to the entryway, opening the front door to find a panda and a wolf sitting slouched against the wall.

Joel picked them up, becoming still a moment as he looked them over.

Tess had done a fine job.

They were clean and tidy. Your wolf had some fresh stitching from where it looked newly stuffed. A little blue bow stood out on the panda possibly a little improvement added by Tess.

He’d remember to send her a thank you present later.

“Joel?” You call for him and he turns and locks back up, walking back to your room with the plushies hidden behind his back.

When he enters your room again, you’re licking chocolate powder from your fingers looking at the way Joel’s arms are shielded behind his back. Your brows knit together curiously.

“What’s going on?” You ask, grabbing a napkin and wiping your hands while you stare up at him from where he stands in front of you.

He smiles and kneels down, making your eyes go wide.

Then he presents your lost friends and your eyes dart down to them in shock.

“Managed to get the gang back together again,” he smiles warmly at you and your hands tremble when you reach for them.

“Joel…”

He urges them into your arms when you hesitate to take them from him. Joel watches the tears crowding at your waterline.

“How?” You gasp, running shaky fingers over them, admiring the new touches and smiling at the renewed plumpness of your wolf.

Joel releases a heavy breath.

It seemed no better time to do this than right now.

After the day he’s had and the way you were on his mind every second of it, he needed you to know how he felt.

Joel places his hands on your knees and your eyes meet his.

“I would do anything for you. I hope you know that and if you didn’t,” he looks to the way you clutch your treasured childhood toys to your chest, “I hope that this proves that I will do anything to make you happy. I’d go to hell and back for you and repeat the process a thousand times over just to see you secure and safe.”

You blink back more tears meeting your jawline and running down towards the neckline of your shirt. Joel runs the back of his fingers up your neck gently and you let him.

You let him wipe the tears away.

“You matter to me in more ways than I ever know how to show sometimes but if you’d let me, darlin, I’d like to show you. I’d like to show you how much you mean to me,” Joel takes in a breath, “I’d like to show you how much I love you.”

“Joel…” you cry, your lips trembling, “but this is everything,” you shake your plushies against your chest, “you didn’t judge me and you- you got them back for me. If you didn’t love me, you wouldn’t do that.”

“There’s more that I could do,” Joel’s hands find your face, his body closer to yours now, crowding you at the edge of the bed.

“I want to be yours, baby and I want you to be mine.”

Your breath hitches, his thumbs soothing your hot skin.

“I want to give you everything and I already started. This apartment is yours. I bought it for you. I’m sorry I lied but I wanted you to have something that was completely yours and I had the means to give it to you.”

You smile, your eyes evading his as your cheeks flush. You had a feeling it was too good to be true. You had a feeling Joel may have never previously owned the building to begin with but it wouldn’t have surprised you if he did.

“When I saw how sad you were when you lost these,” he drops his hand from your face to pinch the ear of your panda plush, “I knew I could get them back for you and I knew I’d do anything to do it. I never want to keep the truth from you so I’ll be honest and say I even interrogated the little shit to find out exactly where they were.”

Your eyes widen with awe, “Joel, you-“

“I had to and I’d do it again. I’d do it a thousand times. I’d fight a fucking army, baby, I’d do it because I love-“

Your lips crash against Joels.

He’s so taken aback to start with until he feels your fingers moving through his hair and instinctively, his palms graze over your hips and press up against your lower back to keep you held against him as close and as tightly as possible.

You pull back, taking in the smitten flush across Joel’s face when he meets your eyes.

It seemed you had an ability to surprise him too.

“I love you too, Joel.”

A year later…

“And they never belonged to them to begin with?! How am I only finding this out now?!” Tess exclaims, downing another glass of red wine in a long gulp, her voice raising louder above the music being played.

You giggle and Joel rolls his eyes.

He eyes the rings on your fingers for the hundredth time that night.

He leans down and places a kiss against your temple.

Married.

And Joel is prepared to fight death to make sure you never part.

You giggle again and raise a brow at Joel, “what did you tell Tess?”

Joel looks towards the dance floor at your wedding reception finding the small tail of a blazer and a golden dress skirt weaving in and out of tables, laughter carrying over the sounds of feet dancing and two familiar soft animals clutched in their palms.

You follow his line of sight, laughter bubbling in your throat.

You meet his wink and grin, “well technically, it’s not a lie now anyway.”

[luvyeni]

HALLUCINATION ,, 양정인

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ jeongins love for you is too strong …  ヾ

stalker!양정인・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ wc ・ ‎3.6k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

𓂃 🎞️ content warning . . . stalking , delusions , jeongin isn’t well at all , sex ( sorta ) , he’s basically in a delusion the entire time he’s with you THIS IS A DARK FIC IF YOU DONT LIKE IT DONT READ IT

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 just something i wrote because hallucination is my favorite solo off the album …

he loved everything about you; the way you looked, when your eyes would crinkle when you smiled. the way you smelled, like warm sugar cookies or vanilla. the way you dress — god he loved the way you dress, the real low waist jeans that showed off your hips, a small heart tattoo on the left side of them; the shirts you wore that accentuate your curves and lifted your boobs

and his absolute favorite was the miniskirts you wore; he hated when you wore them outside, he hated that the people could see such beauty for free. it made him so mad when you’d bend over and all the boys would eye your ass, it made him want to rip their eyes out. you were his, how dare they objectify you like that — they didn’t deserve to see you all dressed up like that , that should be for him, and only him.

he couldn’t look at other girls; they were like blank faces when they tried to talk to him, their voices all sounding the same, which was annoying and screechy. but not you he, he could listen to you talk all the time, no matter the subject. hated them; all of them. he only had eyes for you, he devoted himself to you. “jeongin what are you staring at?”

he turned to hyunjin, confused. “huh?” he he asked, seungmin scoffed. “you’re staring at her again aren’t you? give it up, she doesn’t know you.” he was quick to fight back. “she does know me.” he said matter factly. “we’ve talked.” he said. “once.” hyunjin replied. “and she didn’t even call you by your name, she called you another guys name because she thought you were him, and now you’ve convinced yourself you’ll be with her.”

hyunjin wasn’t wrong; you hadn’t talked to him since that one time you called him jaehyun, but he could tell right then and there you were destined to be together, and you were gonna be together. “that’s because we are gonna be together.” he collected his stuff, standing up. “you just wait and see.” he walked away. “he does know he can’t just stalk her on social media and from afar right? he actually has to talk to her?” seungmin said.” hyunjin shook his head. “you know how he is, you can’t tell him anything.”

so what he actually never talked to you? how dare they doubt your love for each other. so what if you've never actually talked to him? you said it with your eyes and your body? why would you wear such provocative outfits if it wasn’t for his eyes. you were sending him a message. “excuse me?” he looked up from his phone. “i said are you gonna take my order?” his eyes widened and he was frozen in shock. “oh i know you.” your sweet soft voice. “jaehyun right?” close enough for him. “no that’s not right…” you said, looking at his name tag. “jeongin, hi jeongin.” he couldn’t speak, you were actually talking to him. “are you gonna take my order jeongin or are you just gonna stand there.” he could hear the teasing tone in your voice, indicating you were joking with him. “oh-oh um yea.”

“just two coffees please.” he nodded his head, ringing up your order. “mo-move to that line.” he stuttered. “thanks.” you gave him a smile before walking away with your friend. “jeongin back to work.” he quickly continued his work, smiling to himself … you said his name.

“that was weird to do you know him?” your friend asked as you walked away, you turned back to look at the boy. “im pretty sure i had mistaken him for the guy i bought the essay from.” you said. “i don’t know him , know him.” you said, picking up the coffee. “the way he looks at you is weird.” she said. “oh come on you don’t even know him, how can you label him like that.” you said. “you are so naive.” she said. “it’s gonna get you in so much trouble.” you just smiled. “please what can he do? look how harmless he is.”

if you only knew what a boy with a mind like jeongin could truly do…

as a kid jeongin always had a vivid imagination; like really vivid, while he was watching cartoons, the tiny animations would jump out of the tv and keep him company throughout the day. he parents would always ask him who he was talking to and as a kid he would answer and they thought it was pretty cute — but him saying that at 15 is way different then him saying it at 4. he learned quick to never tell people about his visions unless he wanted to be bullied.

he didn’t see anything wrong with his visions; he’d grown used to them as he got older coming into adulthood, but the world did so he kept quiet — especially when he met you.

“you like me don’t you?” you sat on his bed, wearing his favorite outfit. “you think im pretty?” he sat on the bed, nodded. “of course i like you.” he said. “and who doesn’t think you’re pretty? tell me and i’ll kill them.” you chuckled, reaching up to touch his cheek. “you’re so cute innie.” he loved when you called him that. “i just love you so much.” your hand traveling down to his neck. “yo-you look so pretty.” he sighed, you hummed. “yeah?” your hand landing on top of his hardening cock. “you’re so hard.” you palmed him in your hand. “so big.”

he hissed, his hand covering yours; moving along with yours. “fuck.” he moaned. “your hand feel so good.” he bucked up. “i want you to fuck me.” you whispered in his ear. “don’t you want to fuck me?” he whimpered. “i do -oh fuck- i do so bad.” his breathing heavy. “im gonna cum.” he said. “gonna cum so much.” his voice was strained. “please let me cum.” his hand moving with yours. “cum for me innie.” he gasped out , cumming. “oh fuck fuck fuck.” his legs were shaking; he saw little white dots in his eyes as he came. “fuck yn i love you so much, so fucking much.” he repeated over and over.

*ring* *ring* *ring* his eyes shot open; he was alone… there was no one there in his apartment; like he always was. he didn’t even allow his friends to come over. who the fuck interrupted him like this? “shit.” he looked down, the wet stain in his pants from his orgasm. he picked his phone up; answering it. “what?”

“what the hell were you doing, i have been calling you for 45 fucking minutes.” he heard seungmin said. “45 minutes?” he looked at the clock; had he been in his own head for that long. “i was busy; working on a paper.” he said. “what do you want?”

“yeah whatever, just wanted to let you know chan is throwing a party tonight.” seungmin said. “and since you don’t even let your own friends into your apartment I just wanted to know if you’re coming?” he was about to say no but seungmin beat him to it. “that girl will be here, yn or whatever her name is, maybe you’ll finally grow a pair of balls and talk to her.” the older boy said. “so you coming or what?”

he could finally see you again; maybe even talk to you. “yeah i’ll be there.” he said, standing up from his bed. “then get your ass over here so you can help set up.” and with that he hung up the phone. what was he gonna wear? he needed to impress you. “ugh.” he felt the sticky remnants in his pants… but first he needed a shower.

you didn’t mind a party; it wasn’t your favorite thing, to get blacked out drunk and have a freshman trying to get cool points grinding on you, but you did dabble in them here and there — especially when your friend knew the host. “he’s the ta in my class he’s really cool.” she said as you walked through the party. “is he really, or is it because you find your face in his lap after class?” your friend gasped. “hey i don’t not have my face in his lap after class.” your friend held her chest, before she smirked. “it’s the other way around.”

“bitch.” you both laughed, making your way into the kitchen to grab a few drinks. “told him i was gonna bring a friend, he said he was was bring his friend. he’s around your age, quiet and pathetic.” she said. “you know how you like them.” rolling your eyes. “that isn’t even true.” you took a sip of the spiked punch. “oh please, you want a guy to worship you. this guy will chan said, he said he’s the nicest guy you’d ever met apparently.” she scoffed. “which i think is bullshit because at the end of the day he is a man.” you chuckled, your friend was something else. “well he seems sweet.”

“there you are.” chan greeted the boy as he met up with him. “hey hyung.” he finally made it to the party. “how are you? almost thought you weren’t gonna make it; seungmin said he couldn’t get ahold of you.” he looked around for you. “oh i was working on a paper.” he said; it wasn’t like he could say he was having a daydream of you so vivid he came in his pants, only to be woken up much to his demise. “hey you good? you look tired.” the elder boy wrapped his arms around his shoulder. “im fine hyung, really.”

“good cause i got someone for you to meet.” he really didn’t want to meet anyone new; especially since he was only really here for you; where were you? did you get here yet? he wondered what you were wearing. a dress? pants? — or a tiny skirt that he could easily flip up and fuck you in front of everyone, claiming you; ready to kill anyone who looked at your body. “jeongin.” chan pulled him out of his thoughts. “i said you ready? she’s a really nice girl.”

he couldn’t say no to his hyung; so he followed him. he’d just let whoever it is talk while he waited for you; where were you anyway? “he finally shows up, didn’t know jerking off takes that long.” seungmin said, the guys laughing. “stop it , here they come.” chan said. “hey welcome, im chan.” he definitely didn’t want to be doing this. “im yn.” he whipped around, and there you stood in all your beauty; its like you got even more beautiful since the last time he saw you — which was like a few days ago. “are you stalking me?”

your light hearted smile; made his heart flutter, he almost didn’t hear what you said. “you two know each other?” chan asked, confused. “technically i only learned his name a few days ago, but i accidentally mixed him up with someone else one day.” you held your hand up. “nice to meet you properly.” chan pushed his shoulders; nudging his head towards you. “o-oh h-hi.” he hesitantly took your hand, shaking it. “he’s shy, don't worry.” chan said. “it’s fine.” you said. “do you want to go get a drink with me?” you took initiative, trying to make him less nervous. “go with her, don’t just stand there.” chan whispered. “su-sure.”

“good, come on.”

he followed behind you; you smiled waving at different people as you made your way back into the kitchen. “here.” you handed him a cup. “i-i can pour it.” he said, you nodded, he poured his cup, and topped yours off. “thank you.” you took a sip. “what are you in school for?” this was the longest he ever been in your space; your warm vanilla scent made him feel at ease. “oh um business.” he said you nodded. “im going for children’s studies, i want to be a teacher.” you smiled to yourself. “i love children.” he could listen to you speak forever; in fact he wish he could record you and then that way he could play it all day through his headphones. “im so sorry, i talk too much.”

he shook his head. “no-no i don’t mind at all.” he said, not wanting you to stop. “well thank you for listening to me, most people think i talk too much.” who dared to say something like that about you; he’d kill them. “it’s fine with me.” he said.

he felt like he was in heaven for the next hour; talking to you about everything, you were so lively; the way your hands moved animatedly when you explained something; he became a lot more relaxed as he sipped on his drink. “let’s dance.” you said; you were much more tipsy than he was; but clear headed enough. “oh i don’t really dance.” you scoffed, standing up. “who says.” you fixed the tiny skirt you were wearing, it exposed your thighs, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of them. “please.” giving him your best puppy dog eyes, which he immediately caved because why would he deny you anything. “oh-oh okay.”

he got up, following you to the dance floor. you spun around wrapping your arms around his neck. “is this okay?” you grabbed his hand, putting it on your waist; really low on your waist. “yes.” he sighed softly as you both moved to the beat of the music. “i think you’re really cute jeongin.” you played with the nape of his hair. “i-i think you’re cute too.” your finger traced his jaw. “we could go back to your place?”

his place? what about that room? he could let you see that room… the room he dedicated to you, covered in pictures he took from your social medias, and sneaky photos he took of you hung up everywhere. old tissues and old cup he’d taken when you’d visited to the cafe — and the sweaters, three sweaters he took. how did he get them? he waited until you would get up even for a minute or two , forgotten about the sweaters giving him the chance to swoop in and take it.

he almost managed to find the perfume you wore; it smell just like you, so he sprayed it all over the room, covering it in you; it was your room, no one was allowed to see that room, only him. “my-my place is really far away.” he said. “that’s fine, i can spend the night, right?” he gulped, he could just keep you away from that room. he could just say it’s used for storage. “it’s okay if you don’t want to.” you said. “no-no i do.” he said, you smiled. “let’s go then.” you said. “let me go say goodbye to my friend.” you reached up giving him a kiss on the cheek. “i’ll be back.” watching you walk away.

once you returned; he guided you out of the house to his car, not bothering to say goodbye to his friends, he’d see them when he saw them. the ride back to his was quiet; a comfortable quiet though. he would look over at you and you’d smile back, before looking out the window.

he finally made it back to his place, the two of you making your way to his bedroom, where you immediately kissed his neck. “mhm.” he sighed as you attacked his neck with kisses. “that feels good.” he closed his eyes, allowing you to walk him back until he hit bed, falling down. he laid back , letting you grind down on him. “do-don’t tease please.” he begged, you giggled. “i won’t.” you climbed down , in between his lap. he lifted his hips allowing you to pull his pants down to his ankles. “you’re hard.” you kissed him through his boxers, pulling his cock from his confinements, he hissed as the air hit his cock. “so big.” you kissed the tip of his cock, taking him fully into your mouth. “ah shit!”

you bobbed your head up and down his cock. he gripped the sheets, throwing his head back as you worked down on him, gagging noises. “you’re so good at that.” his hand coming up to your head, pushing your head down. “oh fuck im gonna cum.” he groaned, bucking his hips up. “gonna cum inside your mouth.” he moaned loudly as he shot his load. “ooooh fuck!” he fell back against the bed. he felt like he was floating on a cloud. “you liked that?” he nodded breathlessly. “so much.”

you climbed into his lap, he sat back up, holding you by your lower back. “i want you inside me.” you said stroking his length. “want you to stretch me out.” you pushed your panties to the side, running the tip of his cock along your slit. “fuck sit on it.” you finally sat down on him, engulfing him. “jeongin you’re so big.” you moaned into his ear as you began to bounce on him. “fuck you’re so tight , i dreamt of this.” he groaned. “you’ve dreamt of fucking me?” you moaned. “ye-yeah all the time.”

you didn’t say much else, speeding your movements. “oh fuck , if you don’t slow down im gonna cum.” he groaned; he prayed for this day, the day he could feel you around him, sucking him for all that he’d got. “please cum , i want it inside me.” you whined, he cursed. “fuck im gonna cum.” you moaned out. “me-me too -fuck- lets cum together.” he held your waist tightly. “im cumming!” you screamed out. “jeongin!”

he held you down, letting out a loud moan as he came. “fuck fuck fuck.” he groaned cumming. “oh my god.” he breathed heavily, your foreheads pressed against each other. you smiled, kissing his lips. “you’re so cute innie.”

he woke up the next morning to an empty bed; but he knew someone was there; because of the aspirin on his bathroom sink with a note. he also woke up with a hard on, the night before flashing through his mind in little bits, but just enough for him to jerk off to before class. he quickly go ready, leaving out of his apartment.

the first thing he did was try and find you when he got to campus. “yn?” you turned around facing the boy. “oh jeongin, you’re okay.” you looked really worried. “of course i am why wouldn’t i be?” he said. “you only had one drink I didn’t think you’d basically black out like that.” you said; he blacked out last night? was it after you two had sex? “what time did you leave?” he asked. “right after you past out.” you said. “i didn’t stay long.”

you looked serious so he knew you weren’t fucking with him. “you left right after?” he said. “yeah; i stayed for about 5 minutes, i gave you a aspirin and left.” you said… it felt so real, like he could still feel you on him; he could smell your smell when he woke up in the morning, he could hear you moaning in his ear, telling him you were cumming. “you okay jeongin?” he looked at you. “um yeah.” he said. “you look sick; maybe you should go home and sleep, and this time sleep on your bed and not your couch.”

his couch; but he woke up in his bedroom? “ye-yeah i think i do.” he said really confused, his mind was really foggy. “maybe when you feel better we can actually hang up; this time when you’re sober and not muttering crazy things under your breath.” you chuckled. “oh no what did i say?” he said praying he didn’t embarrass himself. “something about my sweaters smells really nice.” you chuckled, but he was sweating now. “i wasn’t wearing one.”

“did you go into any of my rooms?” he asked, you shook your head no. “no i did use your bathroom, that’s why i left the aspirin in there, i hope you don’t mind.” he shook his head. “we have the same body wash, that's funny.” he cracked a fake smile. “we can we hang out for real?” you asked. “so-soon i promise, I’m gonna go home and get some rest.” you nodded. “i hope you feel better.” you said before giving him a kiss on the cheek and walking away.

he quickly rushed home; kicking his shoes off. he made his way to the living room and the pillows were thrown around like he’d slept on it. “so i did sleep here.” he ran to his room, pushing the door open. his bed wasn’t slept in; he hadn’t slept there, but he woke up in a bed — his room dedicated to you; he b-lined out his room and down the hall to his special room. the door was wide open.

he walked into the room, it smelt like you because of the perfume he always sprayed. the pictures looking back at him as he made his way over to the bed. the bed he kept clean always, messy and unmade. pictures he took now scattered around on the bed — and the worse part , his favorite picture of you. the only picture he had that was up close of you was now on the floor stained in his cum.

he’d hallucinated the whole thing; and he almost gave his obsession with you away. he just never felt something so surreal before… which only proved that his love for you was the strongest it’s ever been; and now that you’ve invited him into your life he can now push forward into making you his. he picked the ruined picture up; his dried cum covering your smiling face — turning him on cause now he has a vision of you covered in his cum. “fuck.”

he could feel himself getting hard again. “innie?” he looked up and you were standing in the doorway with a smile on your face.

girl, you're my hallucination …

©️LUVYENI

[wonderjanga]

When Billy was a Newbie

I like to think some of these scenarios happened when Billy was first starting out as a hero.

Villain: *monologging*

Marvel: *doesn’t even let them finish and socks the shit out of them and takes them to the police department*

This happens a good twenty times until one villain has enough.

Villain: *monologging*

Marvel: *about to attack while they’re talking*

Villain: “OKAY WAIT WAIT WAIT, STOP RIGHT THERE YOU BASTARD.”

Marvel: *stops, confused*

Villain: “I know you’re new to this whole thing, but you do realize you’re supposed to let us monologue and tell you our evil plan, right?! You’re not supposed to cut us off!”

Marvel: “I’m not?”

Villain: “No!”

Marvel: “Oh. I’m sorry about that, Mx. Supervillain. I’ll let you and the other ones talk next time.”

Villain: “Wait, really?”

After this, he actually does end up letting them talk and all that.

I also think something like this would happen when he was getting used to fighting crime.

Marvel: *throws one of the big blue mail boxes at some low level, human, emphasis on human, crooks* “Oh… my bad, guys! I was a little too harsh.”

Crooks: *severely injured* “What do you mean ‘your bad’?!?????? That was a little more than harsh!”

Then, there’s the fact I think he wouldn’t care about where he’s saving people. By that I mean, Billy has a lot of free time because he doesn’t go to school. Because of this, you’ll casually see Captain Marvel in flipping Milwaukee helping some people who got into a car crash, then in Orlando helping out with a fire, then in San Jose helping someone who lost their dog. Point is, if there’s someone to help out, he’ll help. Through this, he met Superman actually. Funnily enough, it was while holding up a building.

Marvel: *holding up a building*

Supes: *flies down* “You’re Captain Marvel, right?”

Marvel: “Huh? Uh yeah?” *looks over Superman, seeing his suit and thinking he’s another hero (Billy doesn’t know most heroes because this was when the time bubble recently popped)

Supes: “You need a hand with that?”

Marvel: “Yes, please.”

Supes and Marvel: *work together to move the building to somewhere safe so it won’t hurt anyone*

Marvel: “Thanks.”

Supes: “No problem.”

*awkward silence*

Supes: “If I can ask, what brought you to Metropolis?”

Marvel: “I’m here to fight crime…?” *says like it’s super obvious*

Supes: “Wha? Don’t you have your own city?”

Marvel: “I mean, I guess. Fawcett isn’t really my city though. I just protect it.”

Supes: *blanking and trying to come up with something to say* “Captain, you can’t just go around in other hero’s cities and fight crime for them. It’s a breach of territory.”

Marvel: “It is?”

Supes: “Yes, it is. Honestly, I’m just happy you didn’t do this in Gotham. Batman would’ve been furious.”

Marvel: “Oh. Okay then… so just stick to cities that don’t have heroes?”

Supes: “Well, I guess but don’t you normally-”

Marvel: *beaming smile* “I appreciate the advice, Mr. Superman.”

Supes: “Your…welcome? Wait, what do you mean ‘stick to the cities that don’t have heroes’?”

Marvel: “Oh, well, when crimes slow and nothing’s going on in Fawcett, I kind of just fly around everywhere looking for stuff to do. Just the other day I helped these two old, farmer people, husband and wife, lift their tractor out of some mud.”

Supes: *a little astounded he has that much time on his hands* “Really? Where was that?”

Marvel: “Kansas. I think the town they lived in was Smallville or something?”

Supes: *nearly shits himself* “Ah… I see.”

Then there was the time he met a random Green Lantern. He had no idea what the Lantern Corp were, but any information Solomon gave him made them sound cool though. But you want to know the worst part of this interaction? The Lantern was trying to give Marvel a ring.

Random GL (RGL): *talking about how he wanted to give Billy the ring and yadayadayada*

Marvel: *not even listening due to the Gods talking a whole lot*

Mercury: “BILLY STEAL THE RING!”

Marvel: *saying this out loud* “What? What ring?”

RGL: *confused, says something Billy isn’t paying attention to*

Mercury: “THE RING ON HIS FINGER. KEEP UP WITH THE PROGRAM.”

Marvel: *still talking out loud* “Oh okay okay… how do I do that?”

Solomon: “You are supposed to use your will.”

Marvel: “Huh? Solomon there’s no way that’ll wor…” *trails off as he wills the ring off the lantern’s finger* “I take back what I said.”

RGL: *starts to fall*

Marvel: “Holy moly!” *rushes down to catch him*

RGL: “Earthling what the hell is wrong with you?! Why would you do that??!?”

Marvel: “I’m sorry! The voices has told me to.” *gives them back their ring*

RGL: *flies off grumbling how he’s a psychopath*

Then there was when Marvel joined the Justice League. When he got the communicator, he put it in his pocket dimension and promptly forgot about it.

Marvel: “The Justice League hasn’t contacted me. I wonder if I’ve done something wrong…”

Meanwhile…

Batman: “This is like the third meeting he’s missed, Clark.”

Supes: “I know, I know! I’m sorry! He didn’t seem like the type to skip out on meetings. He talked like he had a bunch of free time.”

WW: “You should go talk to him. You are the one who invited him.”

Supes: *sighs* “I will.”

Back in Fawcett…

Marvel: *helping a cat down from a tree*

Supes: *flies down when he sees him* “Captain! Can we talk?”

Marvel: *hands cat back to its owner* “Mr. Superman. Of course! I’ve actually had something I’ve been meaning to talk about with you too.”

Supes: “Right, well I guess I’ll cut straight to the point. Is there a reason you haven’t shown up to the last meetings?”

Marvel: *stares at him with the most confused face* “Meetings?”

Supes: *confused at Billy’s confusion* “Yes? You get notified on your comm about them.”

Marvel: “Comm… Comm?” *thinking face before recognition flits across his face* “Wait, this thing?” *reaches hand into pocket dimension and pulls out his JL comm*

Supes: *slightly horrified when he saw his arm disappear for a moment* “Yeah. That.”

Marvel: *taps comm and sees over 45 unread notifications* “Oh.”

Supes: *wondering how in the world Marvel never checked his comm* “Oh indeed.”

[palmerzy]

hii!! i love your spencer blurbs so much they're so good!! i was wondering if you could write reader riding spencer while he answers a work call and shes like teasing him and stuff?

thank you anon! hope this is okay :)

NSFW! - explicit sexual themes.

it would start with the both of you very intimately connected, your face buried in spencer’s neck as you slowly ride his cock, his head tilted back against the couch. he’s guiding your hips, brows lifted and lips parted in bliss at the sensation of your warm heat around him.

you’re both snapped out of your haze when his phone rings, buzzing away on the armrest of the couch. you’d reach over, lifting slightly off his cock to grab his phone. “hotch,” you’d grumble, handing spencer the phone expectantly, sinking back down until your pelvises meet once again.

“‘s okay, he can wait,” “need to finish this, i’ll call him back,” he’d murmur, ignoring the phone in your hand, trying to guide your hips again. you’re keeping yourself firmly planted still, though, raising your brow expectantly. “no, answer it. it’s work, it could be important.”

so he does, narrowing his eyes at you when he takes the phone, and never has he wanted to hear hotch’s voice less than he does right now, with his girlfriend’s tightness wrapped snuggly around him.

he thinks it’ll just be a call in, but it’s not, and hotch is actually trying to check up on some work spencer was assigned, asking him numerous questions. he’s is fighting the urge to roll his eyes, until his eyes roll backwards when you teasingly circle your hips around him.

the hand on your waist tightens, and he gives you a warning glare, his nose twitching. you’re not one to be overly obedient when it comes to spencer’s vain attempts at keeping you in line. you’d grin back at him, shrugging your shoulders innocently and clenching the muscles within your pussy, tightening around him.

you can see his knuckles turning white around his phone, trying to keep his voice steady as he talks to his boss, though it’s a little more meek than usual. you lean back down, lips parted against his neck, your tongue darting out across his skin as your hips slowly roll against his.

he’s trying his hardest not to let out a single sound, but the way he can feel the sensitive, swollen tip of his cock pressing against the softness of your walls has him letting out a small whimper, forgetting who’s listening in.

sure, you’re unable to hear hotch, but you know the other man heard spencer’s whimper, you can tell by the way your boyfriend’s face heats up, immediately giving his boss an excuse. “uh- yeah- mmph- just, makin’ myself coffee, spilt it. nearly burnt myself. what were you saying? you need-“

he’d cut himself off to glare at you when you lift your hips, slamming back down, and he has to bite down harshly on his bottom lip to prevent himself from moaning on the line with hotch. “-you need my case review? okay, okay, that’s doable. thanks, hotch,” he’d continue.

the call doesn’t seem to end there, though, and spencer’s eyes are practically watering as he fights the urge to just hang up so he can slam his hips back against yours. hotch’s monotone voice is droning off in one ear, whilst your tongue traces the shell of the other, and he feels like he’s got an angel and a devil on each shoulder. lord knows he’d much rather give into the devil.

you’re still bouncing your hips, slower now, but the twitch of his cock inside of you is a telltale sign that he could very much come right now, yet he’s holding back. coming technically to the sound of his boss’ voice sounds very unappealing, and he’d much rather have your sweet moans in his ear.

it’s probably another two minutes of conversation, with spencer desperately on the brink of an orgasm from your ministrations, when hotch finally hangs up. he throws the phone somewhere, aiming for the couch, but his aim isn’t the best and it lands on the hardwood floor. either way, he doesn’t care. he’s still glaring at you, desperation swarming in his eyes as he grips your hips, using all of his strength to pound back up into you, playfully giving your backside a small smack for teasing him like that!

[princeoftheeternalbog]

I went out a few nights ago and for some reason accepted?? free sweets??? from some random person in the bathroom???😀 so anyways here's op characters reacting to you being a reckless/idiotic drunk.

I feel like some are a bit out of character but also this is like about situations that could actually sort of harm you so I didn't want to make it too silly because i think often 'silly' characters are overlooked in terms of the depth they can have- YES THIS IS ABOUT LUFFY! HE CAN BE SERIOUS! I LOVE HIM!

Luffy

Surprisingly stressed about it. Like he thinks it's funny at first but as soon as you start doing more like genuinely dangerous stuff he's like nuh uh. Will wrap himself around you to keep you safe, and he tells you off very seriously like he wasnt doing the same thing or something more dangerous earlier.

Zoro

Just fixes the situation around you to be honest. Like if you're climbing something he just puts a harness on you and attaches it to himself and climbs with you. You are not getting injured under his watch but he will never tell you what to do with your own life. Unless it's something really badly dangerous and then he basically just sits on you because there's no way you're lifting him.

Sanji

Heart attack fr like he straight up faints, but as soon as he's back on his feet then he's immediately intervening. Listen he loves you and he would never treat you badly but what the fck are you doing. Straight up he just snatches you before forcing you to drink like 4 glasses of water.

Usopp

Also heart attack except he doesn't know what to do about it. Runs around crying until either someone else does something or you do something so dangerous that he acts without thinking. You'll probably end up immobilised with blankets and forced to sit next to him all night while he feeds you snacks.

Nami

Lowkey she's doing it with you. You're a nightmare duo for the crew and everytime you've gotten drunk together something horrendous has happened. Like you go out, just you two, and come back to the ship and one of you has a broken wrist or like you both get lost and the crew has to search for you when they're all hungover the next day. So you're not allowed to drink together anymore.

Robin

Scruffs you like a kitten but like for real she just picks you up and takes you away from the situation. She's scary about it too, she just appears from nowhere like "My my, what are you doing my love." Instantly sobering to hear. She monitors your drinking from afar to make sure you don't get to this point too often.

Franky

Sort of encourages you but also stops you from doing anything that could harm you? He's like WOO THAT'S MY BABY while he's carrying you away from the thing you were trying to do. Honestly he's way more responsible then expected, and he doesn't really get drunk as easily as other people so he's a good caretaker.

Brook

Laughs but also prevents any impact from the situation. So like if you accepted a drink from a rando then he swaps it with his own, or if you're balancing on something high then he makes sure he's there to catch you. He knows drunk people aren't very agreeable and hates controlling your actions.

Jinbei

He's lowkey slipping you water and juice instead of alcohol so you don't get to this point. He doesn't hold it against you though, his tolerance is huge and most people who attempt to keep up with him end up passed out. He fights your fomo by giving you mocktails, what a gem

[kittenintheden]

I love your style of writing!! I like how you also take suggestions and I may have one I’d love to see you expand on: Astarion misses the act of eating and is enthralled by F Tav when he watches her eat. He wants to seduce her and gain her trust - he gathers a selection of good foods - fruits, berries, chocolate, cheese, magic ice. Finds her reading aloud to a wild animal a kind of respite for her. He takes to listening to her read. That’s how they hone their relationship then he brings the food on one such meeting. Turns to kissing. Hot stuff ensues lol Thank you for indulging me.

hi <3 thanks for helping me out of a writing funk. I hope you enjoy this treat ^_^

Wanna Give You My Sugar, Baby

Rating: E (18+) Pairing: Astarion/F!Tav Word Count: 5565 Content: 18+, oral sex, PIV sex, food play, blood drinking, Astarion being Astarion

AO3 Link

***

He isn’t sure exactly when it happens, but happen it does.

The first few weeks are a cavalcade of escalating absurdity. Mind flayer tadpoles, bickering druids, disgusting goblin camps, hags, memphits, frogs that pack a wallop they have no business packing. The list goes on and on.

And yet, as their merry band progresses through the horrors, something shifts in him. Necessity becomes hesitant companionability. Threats become less threatening with people fighting at his side. A veneer of seduction becomes something uncomfortably close to… friendship.

When they cross the threshold of relative safety to head into the Shadow-Cursed Lands at last, Astarion’s nearly looking forward to the adventure. It’s strange to be in the presence of people who not only tolerate him, but almost seem to enjoy his company, even when that company doesn’t involve him putting out.

Not that he didn’t try, of course. The lady-wizard, Antava, had seemed an ideal candidate for separation from the herd, yet she didn’t rise to his flirtations. They didn’t go over her head, of that he’s certain. Nonetheless, her knowing smile stayed kind as she declined his invitation. He’d never admit it to anyone – barely admits it to himself – but it stung. A little.

He hates losing. There’s been too much loss in his life.

But it hardly matters. Turns out he didn’t need to seduce a protector, after all. The clowns he runs with protect him for free. Odd, but he’ll take it.

As his guard drops, inch by painstaking inch, topics beyond his mere continued survival begin taking up more space in his mind.

Topics like Tav’s mouth.

Tonight, a significant portion of their troupe finishes up their evening meal near the fire. Astarion sits companionably nearby while the others eat, smirking over his cup of bad wine and offering the occasional judgement. He’s giving a high laugh at one of his own jokes when he looks to the side and catches the moment Antava – Tav, now – lifts a strawberry to her lips. Her eyes are closed as she bites into the fruit, her lips stained the faintest red as they stretch into a delighted smile.

Astarion pauses to admire the sight. It’d be rude not to. It’s a very nice mouth. Aesthetically speaking. Slightly bowed at the top, a plush lower lip with a barely-there dimple, and a very small scar bisecting her lip line. His brow knits. He hadn’t noticed that before.

Tav’s eyes sparkle as she finishes her bite and opens her eyes to meet his. She swallows and says, “What?”

“I was just…” Astarion waves his cup toward her. “I just noticed that scar on your lip. Story to share with the group, dear?”

She laughs brightly and brings her fingers to the mark near the corner of her mouth. Astarion feels the urge to mirror the touch on his own. Instead, he brings the wine to his lips. It’s acrid. Sour. Like everything else.

Tav says, “Nothing exciting or scandalous, I’m afraid. My brother’s pet budgie bit me when I was nine. I was trying to teach it to give kisses.”

Astarion blinks and stares a moment. A short laugh bursts from him. Then another.

“Budgie bite?” he says through an incredulous grin.

Tav shrugs. “Budgie bite.”

“Pathetic,” Astarion scoffs teasingly, taking another drink.

She grumbles at him a moment before reaching out to pluck another berry from their shared platter. Astarion glances to the side to watch it disappear past her lips.

What did berries taste like?

He can’t remember.

***

Tav eats with enthusiasm, and now that he’s noticed it, he can’t un-notice it.

When they’ve been on the road a while, she’ll reach into her pack and produce an apple or a small wrapped bit of cheese and bread. The simplest things, yet as he watches her, he sees the way she relishes every bite. Tastes it. Experiences it.

She sinks her teeth into the apple’s flesh with an audible snap, taking a bite into her mouth and chewing slowly, the tip of her pink tongue poking out to lick the juice dripping down the side of her hand.

He manages to catch himself before he runs headlong into a knot of strangling vines. Barely.

One morning a few days later, Halsin’s produced a coveted bit of honey from his pack and Tav is drizzling a spoonful into the tea Shadowheart brewed at the fire. Astarion pauses in oiling his blade hilts to observe her draw her tongue over the back of her spoon, the sticky golden honey coming away, held in her mouth for a marvelous moment.

He clears his throat and examines the dagger balanced in his palm.

Sweet tooth, he thinks as he wipes a soft cloth over the blade.

Then there’s the day they help an infuriatingly chipper family of halflings escape a grisly fate at the business end of a Razorvine Blight and part of their reward is a precious package of stick candy enchanted with multicolored, multiflavored stripes.

He doesn’t think much of it until the moment Tav takes one from the little wrapped bundle after supper, pulling the red-swirled candy out and admiring it with childlike glee before she puts the end in her mouth and closes her eyes in rapturous delight. Astarion watches her pink lips close around the stick, the candy disappearing centimeter by centimeter. He pictures the length of it running over her tongue and is alarmed to feel a pang of envy.

Envious of candy.

Candy that gets to know the soft heat of her mouth, the velvet touch of her tongue. He can’t stop the rising image of those same lush lips closing around his-

“Astarion?” someone says from behind his left shoulder.

“Hm?” he responds, twisting to look around and casually leaning against the nearest crate with what he’s sure is believable nonchalance.

Wyll approaches with goblet in hand and tilts his head in concern. It’s taken him some time to learn to live with his new horns, but they suit him well. At this point, it’s like they’ve always been part of him.

“Are you feeling well?” Wyll asks. “Not peckish?”

Astarion snorts a laugh. “Not especially. Why? Are you offering, you generous thing?”

While Tav was the first to offer him a bite on that ill-fated night not so very long ago, the party has since taken it upon themselves to make routine donations to keep him fed. Though they all seem to prefer the vein-to-cup method, which is incredibly disappointing.

Wyll chuckles. “If you need it. I ask because you’re staring rather wolfishly.”

“At what?” Astarion responds without a thought.

With an arched brow, Wyll shifts his gaze to look over Astarion’s shoulder. Though he knows exactly what he’ll find there, Astarion looks anyway, and sure enough Tav has worked her stick candy to a fine point, lips and tongue stained prominently red, the sight of which is causing the strangest reaction in his gut. His throat bobs.

He turns back to Wyll. “Can you blame a man for enjoying a show? Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

As he walks off, Wyll says, “You know, the other day I overheard Tav mention to Karlach that she’d take on an owlbear all by herself for a bit of chocolate. It seems to be a favorite. Maybe the merchant we passed earlier knows where to find some.”

Astarion stops and turns his head to one side, frowning. “Okay? And?”

Wyll lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight smile. “Just thought you might be interested to know.”

“I’m not.”

“All right. Enjoy your evening.” Wyll raises his glass and moves to leave.

Astarion shifts his weight from foot to foot. Wyll gets three steps before Astarion sighs and says, “Which merchant?”

***

The merchant Wyll recommended does not have any sweets, it turns out. But she points Astarion in the direction of a traveling trader who happens to be holed up at the Last Light Inn, waiting until it’s safe enough to move on.

That man does have a bit of special stock. For a price.

“Ten gold?” Astarion sneers incredulously. “Are you mad?”

The vendor shrugs. “It’s a real specialty product. I’ve no idea when I’ll be able to get more. Got a business to run. You understand.”

Astarion scoffs and folds his arms. “Robbery is what it is, and I won’t be party to it.” He sniffs and looks to one side. Then back again. “I’ll give you six.”

With a smirk, the half-orc says, “You might talk me into eight.”

“Seven,” Astarion counters, placing a hand on a tavern table and leaning forward.

“Nah,” the vendor says as he flips a silver into the air and catches it. “I can find someone willing to pay more’n eight.”

“I will give you eight if…” Astarion raises a finger to point toward the man’s face. “... if you throw in a lockpick.”

He gives a rumbling laugh. “All right, you caught me in a good mood. Deal.”

Astarion hands over the gold and the merchant hands over a lockpick and a packet of melting chocolate.

The vendor flicks his eyes up and gives Astarion a parting nod as he counts the coins. “What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, sex,” Astarion says, waving the packet through the air with a flourish. “Was that not obvious?”

The man gives him a look up and down. Then he shrugs and says, “Fair enough.”

***

How does one melt chocolate without burning it? This is not a skill he’s ever had reason to acquire. Never had the opportunity, really. Cacao was mainly used to make a bitter drink when he was young. This whole… chocolate thing is a relatively new development.

“Certainly I’ll regret asking, but dare I wonder what ill-fated task you’re attempting?” Gale asks as he approaches Astarion warily.

Astarion looks up mid-act, his hand hovering over a small clay jar containing a small bit of his overpriced chocolate. “Playing with fire, what does it look like?” he responds.

“Ignis,” he mutters, sending a small bolt of flame into the jar, which instantly disintegrates the chocolate and also superheats the vessel.

“Gods damn it,” Astarion curses, dropping the jar and shaking out his burnt hand.

Gale looks at him like he’s just tried to tear up a spell scroll. “Where on the material plane did you learn that horrific cantrip form?”

“Oh, piss off,” Astarion sneers, still clutching his hurt fingers. “It comes naturally.”

“Natural as an avalanche,” Gale says as he shoos him away from the jar. He crouches down and holds a hand over it to test its heat, then allows cooling magic to pool in his palm before he reaches out to touch it. “There’s absolutely no delicacy to your somatics.”

“Listen, you smug spellnag,” Astarion says, pointing at Gale with his good hand. “There is only delicacy in my somatics.”

Gale flicks his hand in dismissal. “If you’re trying to heat the clay gently, a gentle hand is required. Manipulate the Weave as an artisan, pulling only the thread you need.”

The wizard’s eyes focus on the vessel and he speaks under his breath, whispering, “Ignis parvas.” When he does, the hand holding the jar glows with orange light, lighting the clay. A moment later, all goes dark.

“There you are,” Gale says, holding it out.

Astarion squints at Gale, then at the jar. He gingerly reaches out to take it and finds it very warm, but not painful, to the touch.

“Huh,” Astarion says, looking it over. “How long will it stay like this?”

Gale rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking very pleased with himself. “A good four hours or so, I should think. What plans have you for your new heated jar?”

“That,” Astarion says as he takes a step backward. “Is no business of yours. Cheers.”

With a put-upon sigh, Gale waits a moment before calling after him, “Could I at least have some of the chocolate you were destroying?”

“No,” Astarion says cheerfully, offering a wave over one shoulder.

***

Now that he’s standing near her tent with a satchel full of chocolate and berries, Astarion realizes he doesn’t exactly have a plan. He’s not even sure when he made the decision to take another pass at Tav. It seemed for a time like something might be blooming between her and Shadowheart, but the moment appears to have passed.

What is he doing here?

Astarion’s brow knits together and he tightens his grip on the strap of his pack. There’s no reason to do this. Is there? He doesn’t need protection like he once did.

But… it couldn’t exactly hurt, could it? To have a little insurance policy in place, just in case?

He stands up straight and puts on his best smile. No. It couldn’t hurt. At bare minimum, he gets to watch her eat his treat, and that seems worth the price of admission.

As he reaches her tent flap, she chooses that moment to step out and startles a bit when she spots him.

“Gods, you spooked me,” she laughs, hand to her fluttering heart. “You’re so quiet.”

“By design, darling,” he says, tilting his head just so. “You’re just the person I’d hoped to run into.”

“Yeah?” she says, gathering up her hair in one hand and pulling it over a shoulder. “You were hoping to jump out of the shadows and give me a fright?”

Like a glove, he slips right into his most comfortable role. His chuckle goes dark, his voice dropping into a purr. “I can think of a lot of things that are much more fun to do in the shadows than cause someone a fright.” A pause. “Although the look on your face was very funny.”

She gives him a calculating look, a slight smirk on her face. “Okay, I’ll bite. Like what?”

“A bite is one option,” he lilts. “Or several, if you’d like.”

She gives him an affectionate eyeroll, still smiling.

“Specifically,” he continues as he holds up his satchel. “I thought you might like to join me on a stroll and enjoy some provisions I managed to scrounge up. Strawberries…”

That gets her attention. He grins wide enough to show the points of his teeth and reaches into his satchel to produce a jar.

“... and chocolate.”

With a gasp, Tav reaches for it, giving a small yelp when she finds the jar warm to the touch. He offers it again and she takes it carefully, letting it warm her skin in the freezing depth of the caves they’re bunking in. Her eyes are wide with wonder as she brings it close to her face, examining it. She looks at him, awestruck.

“Hot chocolate? You found hot chocolate?” she says.

He plucks it back from her hands and stashes it away. “Perhaps. Would you care to sneak away with me and find out? I’ve found the loveliest cavern a little farther in. We could take some time to ourselves. Indulge in… whatever we like.”

The expression on her face is inscrutable. Astarion’s throat bobs. Shit. Did he overplay his hand?

As if he imagined it, her thoughtful look is replaced with another impish smirk. “Well, at the very least, I’ll get chocolate. I’m in.”

He releases a slow breath and smolders at her as he holds out an arm. “Shall we?”

They maneuver through a well-worn cavern path and Astarion feels the heat of the jar through his satchel and shirt, warming the center of his back as they walk.

***

Astarion has been known to stretch the truth to suit his needs, but in this instance, he’d spoken the truth plainly: he had indeed found a lovely little cavern for an impromptu picnic in the Shadowlands.

Tav gasps aloud as they enter the space and are met with glittering crystals glowing with natural magic embedded in the walls, creating a space that could only really be said to set a mood.

Astarion feels a self-satisfied smile pull at his mouth as she spots the blanket he’s laid out. She pauses only a moment before walking over and sinking onto it, turning to look over her shoulder at him invitingly.

Too easy. Always so easy.

But that’s the point, isn’t it?

He swallows and joins her, shrugging off the pack and handing it over to her as he lounges on one side, making sure to arrange himself so the laces of his shirt fall open to reveal some chest. All his best moves.

And he’s about to open his mouth and recite all his favorite lines, drop them one after the other until her smallclothes drop with them, but then Tav uncorks the jar of chocolate and dips a berry inside and the words never leave his mouth. He’s too busy watching.

Watching the chocolate, perfectly melted, drip like dark blood from the berry as she lifts the strawberry to her lips. A drop lands on her palm, another on the swell of her breast, but he has eyes only for her mouth as her tongue appears to lick the berry, her eyes falling closed and her brow softening in pleasure. A soft moan rises up from her throat at the taste and when she takes a bite, Astarion can hear her teeth pierce the flesh of the fruit.

He is instantly hard.

Oh, gods. No plan. He had no plan.

Tav, completely unaware of his internal struggle, chews slowly. Her eyes are half-lidded when she opens them again, finishing her bite and sticking out her tongue to lick the remaining chocolate from her lips. She swallows and he watches it move down her throat, remembering the one and only time she let him pierce his teeth directly into that same neck. His desperation and her trust.

How misplaced it had been.

“Astarion?” she says, and he watches her perfect lips form his name and his core tightens with arousal.

He can do this. He knows how to do this.

His head falls softly into his hand in a gentle lean as he tears his gaze away from her mouth and meets her eyes. “Yes, beautiful?”

The very slightest flush colors her cheeks. He only notices because he’s already staring.

“Why’d you ask me here?” she says. She raises the remaining half of the chocolate covered berry to her mouth and takes another bite, licking the chocolate from her palm while she’s at it.

His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and he attempts to loosen it. “I think we both know why we’re here. Don’t you?” he says.

She huffs a laugh and tosses the strawberry top aside, still holding the jar of chocolate. With a downward glance, she spots the drop of chocolate on her breast and swipes it off with a finger, looking up to hold his eye as she licks it off.

“Why chocolate?” she asks, quieter this time.

Astarion blinks, confused. “What?”

Tav swallows. “You don’t eat. Why would you bother picking up chocolate?”

“I…” She’s caught him off-guard and the only thing coming to mind is the truth. “I thought you’d like it.”

“I do like it,” she says. Her eyes are going unnervingly soft as she looks at him. “But why me? Why not good wine for Wyll or flowers for Shadowheart?” She runs her finger around the rim of the jar and brings it to her mouth again, sticking the entire tip into her mouth to suck the chocolate off.

Astarion’s pupils dilate and he runs his tongue along his bottom lip.

“I like to watch you eat,” he says softly. Honestly.

“Hm,” she hums, tapping the same fingertip against her lips. “Do you?”

He breathes in deep and looks at her with a heat he doesn’t have to fake. “You have an incredible mouth. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

Tav’s aforementioned mouth pulls up into a grin as she leans in toward him. “I’ve been told once or twice. I’ll make you a deal.”

“Hm?” he manages. Coherent thought is becoming difficult. 

She holds out the jar. “You brought me chocolate and you like to watch my mouth,” she says lowly. “So put it… wherever you’d like to see my mouth.”

The jar is warm enough to make him sweat as she pushes it into his palm and his fingers close tightly around it. His brain clicks into place as he realizes what she’s giving him.

Power. Choice.

He thinks he may have just gone even harder.

With effort, he maintains his composure, plucking a small strawberry from the pile she’s left and swirling it into the open jar. He sets it aside and holds the berry up near his face, continuing to recline. He beckons her closer and arches a brow.

“Come and get it,” he teases.

Her face is full of mischief as she goes up on her hands and knees to come closer, her breasts hanging as she gives him a full peek down the front of her robes. When he tears his eyes away, her face is at level with the strawberry. She leans in close enough that he can smell the sweetness on her breath and takes his offering into her mouth. The sound of her teeth cutting through the fruit sends a wave of arousal rushing through his core.

Tav chews and swallows, breathing another strawberry-sweet sigh. She’s inches away.

“Anywhere else?” she says, eyes half-lidded as she gazes at him.

There’s only one place he’d really like her mouth right now.

Well. One, to start.

Astarion reaches toward the jar without breaking eye contact, dipping the pad of his middle finger into the warm chocolate. He withdraws it, brings it to his parted lips, and drags it over his lower lip. A bit ends up on the tip of his tongue. It tastes of wet dust, but he hadn’t expected anything better.

Tav’s face flickers with an affectionate smile. Her eyes drop to his mouth.

“I was hoping you’d pick that place,” she whispers.

She leans in and Astarion’s eyelids flutter closed as he feels the soft touch of her tongue stroking along his lip before her mouth covers his in a firm kiss. It’s nice. It’s very nice.

Their tongues brush against one another and something changes. Food and wine – they never taste like he remembers them, when he can remember them at all. But as the chocolate and strawberry become a part of her, held in her mouth and swallowed down, he tastes… something. Something sweet. Something more.

A sound of pure want rises in his throat before he even realizes it's happening.

Tav takes the sound as intended and deepens their kiss, moving her knees under her so she can lift her hands to either side of his jaw and pull him in tighter. Her lips are better than he imagined, gentle and skilled as she tastes him and he tastes her back.

Eventually, they break apart and open their eyes. For a moment, neither moves.

Then Tav says, “Where else?”

Astarion pushes himself up to sitting and she moves back to give him space. In seconds, he manages to undo the clasps along the front of his camp shirt and lets it fall open. He goes to reach for the chocolate, but Tav’s beat him to it. She holds it in her hand and speaks an incantation to summon a pale blue hand out of the aether. The mage hand spell dips inside and comes out dripping with chocolate. Then she grins and waits.

He leans back on his elbows with a look full of invitation, shirt falling to either side of his torso. He tents a leg and gives a knowing smirk when Tav’s gaze lights on the rigid length straining against his trousers.

“All in good time, my sweet,” he purrs. Shifting his weight to one side, he takes a finger and runs it down the column of his throat. Over each pectoral. Down the center of his sternum. Makes sure to hold her eye as he draws his pinky over the line separating his abdomen all the way to the navel.

Dutifully, Tav follows his instruction, using her spectral hand to apply chocolate. Astarion shudders as she does, the warmed confection raising gooseflesh where it comes into contact with his cool skin.

Job done, Tav waves the hand away, sets the jar aside, and crawls over him once again until she’s near his face. She tilts her head to regard him and then lowers herself while he leans back, exposing the column of his throat to her without a second thought.

Something he’d never have imagined allowing himself to do even a few weeks ago.

He’s rewarded for his trust with her tongue running a hot, wet stripe over his windpipe. Gods, his cock aches to be touched, but this feels too good to stop. He hums his approval.

Tav’s mouth is an erotic dream as it follows the trail of chocolate across his body, warm and soft and welcoming. When she closes her lips over a nipple and gently sucks, Astarion’s back arches and he groans.

By the time she gets to his navel, his breath is heavy with lust as he watches her tongue swirl and dip inside.

If he doesn’t take a moment to collect himself, he’s going to forget his own name.

Sluggishly, he reaches out to take a handful of hair at the back of her head and pull. Not hard, not to hurt. Just enough to attract her attention and get her to look at him, lips shining and kiss-swollen. Another wave of electric arousal washes through him.

“Are we going to have sex?” he asks, voice low and breathy.

Tav blinks slowly at him. “I’d like that,” she says.

He swallows. “Then you’d better disrobe, darling. You’re terribly overdressed.”

With a bright laugh, she places one more openmouthed kiss near his hipbone and stands so she can undo the buttons of her robe, letting the material fall loosely around her shoulders as she goes. While she’s preoccupied, Astarion manages his own clothing, pulling the ties of his trousers loose and shoving everything down over his hips, his hard cock springing free at last. He takes it in hand and sits up straight just as Tav wriggles out of her smallclothes, standing stark naked before him with her clothing pooling on the floor.

Immediately and with a neediness he hasn’t properly felt in years, Astarion pumps his cock with his left hand and grips Tav’s hip with his right, pulling her in close as he brings his mouth to her cunt and gives her a kiss of her own, tongue stroking and exploring whatever he can reach from this angle. Above him, Tav gasps at the sensation, nearly doubling over in surprise, her fingers twisting into his hair.

“Wait, wait,” she says, breathlessly, giving him a light tap on the shoulder. “I’m… I’m not done.”

He releases her reluctantly and reclines again. She goes back onto her knees and recalls her mage hand, taking more chocolate. Her eyes never leave his cock as she uses her magic to drizzle chocolate over his hips, his thighs, and, of course…

Astarion lets his head fall back as the warmed chocolate drips down his cock, his breath coming tight and short. The heat of her tongue swirls over one of his hip bones, then the other. By the time she reaches the creases of his thighs, he’s quivering in anticipation. He makes sure to lift his head just in time to watch her catch his eye and run the flat of her tongue over the underside of his length from root to tip.

“Ah, fuck,” he sighs, scraping his nails over the blanket-covered ground.

Tav looks deep into him as she licks the split on the underside of the head, making certain to get every bit she spilled. Her beautiful lips pout slightly to give the tip of his cock a proper kiss. Then they part and she takes him down, down, down, every aching inch.

“Gods, Antava,” he groans, abdomen clenching and shuddering as roiling heat blooms in his core. “Yes.”

She hums back at him in response, moving her head in a steady rhythm, alternating between licking and sucking. He must be clean of chocolate by now, but she doesn’t stop, and Astarion isn’t complaining. He hasn’t experienced head this good in ages and watching her lips work over his cock is undeniably hot.

A minute or so later, she pulls off him with a wet pop, eyes glazed over with want as she puffs hot breath over his spit-slick cock.

“Anywhere else you’d like-” she starts, but he’s already reaching down to pull her face toward his.

“Come here,” he growls, pulling her mouth back to his in a desperate kiss, pulling her body in close to his until they’re skin to skin, his cock trapped between them. Unbidden, his hips roll, grinding into her belly.

Panting, she pushes up on her knees to hover above his lap and casts another spell under her breath, drawing any remaining chocolate from his skin and casting it aside.

“What was that?” he breathes.

“Prestidigitation spell,” she breathes back, putting a hand firmly on each of his shoulders. “I don’t fancy getting thrush, personally.”

And with that, she lowers herself toward the floor, finding the tip of his cock with her entrance and sinking onto it. If Astarion thought her mouth was incredible, he had no idea. He curls his hips up to meet hers with a broken moan, palming her arse with one hand and running the other up over her spine until it’s wrapped around the nape of her neck. He buries his face into the crook of her neck and breathes her in. He grinds up into her, buried to the hilt in her delicious heat.

She meets his passion, rolling her hips against his in a steady rhythm as she leans her head to one side to give him better access to her neck, panting near his ear. His fingertips dig into the ample flesh of her backside, guiding her as they fuck deep. He groans, holding her closer as they pick up speed, needily licking and nipping at the skin of her neck.

“Ah, ah, Tav, ah,” he manages against her shoulder, voice dark with lust. And he isn’t even faking it. Not this time.

She doesn’t respond beyond the quiet cries rising from her chest, but she palms the back of his head and presses his mouth to her neck until he can feel the thrumming pulse there. That’s surely an invitation if he’s ever had one.

Astarion bites, her heated blood flowing immediately from the punctures to coat his tongue in metallic vitality, rich and ever-so-slightly sweet. An echo of the sugar on her tongue. He drinks, and drinks, and forces himself away before he takes too much. When he pulls back, mouth stained red, Tav’s right there to capture him in a kiss. It’s salt and sugar, blood and chocolate.

Tension rises and threatens to snap, the promise of pleasurable release circling ever closer. In anticipation, Astarion reaches between them to press a thumb to her swollen clit, and Tav cries out, her rocking intensifying as she chases her climax.

Astarion says something then that he hasn’t said sincerely in a while.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he pants.

“Me too,” Tav murmurs.

Then she does, core tightening and thighs clenching on either side of his hips as she pulses around his cock, the space between them going slick. With a guttural groan, Astarion presses into her as deep as he can go and finds his own release, shivering through his peak as he spills inside her.

Before either can catch their breath, they’re kissing again, swallowing the pleasure that courses through them.

They stay in place for a long moment, clinging to one another and kissing deep.

After they come down and separate to clean up and redress, Astarion sends a glance her way.

He clears his throat. “So, what changed?” he asks, forcibly casual.

“What do you mean?” she says as she adjusts her robe and twists her hair up into a knot.

Astarion waves a hand through the air. “Just curious when your obvious lust for me won out over your self-preservation instincts,” he teases.

Tav pauses in setting her hair and looks at him with an arched brow. “Is that why you think I didn’t sleep with you before?” she says. “Because I was afraid of you?”

He shrugs. “Why else?”

She drops her hands to her sides with a laugh. “I didn’t think you really wanted me, before. Your proposition felt… hollow.”

Astarion’s muscles freeze in place like he’s been caught in a spotlight. He catches himself quickly, blinking, and attempts to play it off. “Hm. And this time?”

Tav walks past him, brushing his shoulder and giving him a knowing look from under her lashes as she bends down to retrieve the enchanted jar so she can press it back into his hand. The warmth between them lingers.

She smiles.

“This time,” she says, hand still on his. “You brought me chocolate. And a little honesty.”

Then she turns and walks away, Astarion staring after her.

He takes a breath, fingers tight around the jar.

[dolicekiss]

Hi I'm not sure if you're taking requests (i don't know how the request work so sorry)

Could u write a one-shot, where Reader and Duncan have a mission and them go to the place but before do the work, they arrive at a hotel and them only rent a room with one bed (obviously) Duncan tells her that he'll take the bed and she'll sleep on the floor, then he go to take a shower and she doesn't care about his request and takes the bed, Duncan comes out and them start to fight because she didn't listen him, until she suggests that both take the bed (Duncan don't like the idea but don't decline and just does it) after a while she stars to tempt him at first he's angry bout all the situation, but the moment takes another path and u alr know (smut) if u r comfortable with ofc. (And sorry my english isn't great sorry for the type errors)

This is an idea of one chat with a bot of c.ia but the bots r not as good as a writer <3

♡: anon i know about this bot and i have done some freaky stuff w it 🤭 i love this request

Contumacious

PAIRING: Duncan Vizla x Bratty!Reader

CONTENT WARNING: smut (18+, mdni), unprotected sex, age gap (reader is in her twenties), bratty reader, dominant duncan, tension, oral (male receiving), duncan calls reader ‘little girl’, overstimulation, choking, hair pulling, biting, slight blood, degrading, talkative duncan, slight (very minor) fluff at the end.

SYNOPSIS: On a mission, Duncan decides to stay at a hotel room for further planning and to rest. But when he orders you to take the floor and decides to stake his claim over the bed, things become heated between the two of you.

Duncan didn't expect to see a single bed in the room when he stormed in, along with you, who carried your own bag of basic necessities.

Frustration was as clear as water on his rough features when he realized he'd have to sacrifice a good night's sleep if he were to allow you slumber along him.

So he didn't sacrifice shit.

The man dropped his duffle bag over the bed, in a way branding it as his. “I get the bed, you get the floor.”

You couldn't even oppose because he'd already left for the bathroom, assuming to take a shower. Your lips formed a frown, brows furrowing. Just who did Duncan Vizla think he was? You both were equals on this mission, sent by Damucles to strike down a Mexican mob boss.

Duncan being older didn't mean he could do as he wished. You stood firm on give respect in order to receive it, age had nothing to do with it. You also placed your bag on the bed and slipped off your boots, sprawling across it.

If you had to take the bed forcefully, then so be it.

When Duncan was finished with his shower and came out, he was the least bit pleased with the sight afore him. You on your stomach, laying on the bed, feet up in the air and oscillating.

His bushy eyebrows scrunched in irritation. The man stormed towards you, standing right in front of you and you lifted your gaze up fron the pistol in your hands. Only to acknowledge him before going back to toying with the weapon in your hands.

That only worked to raise his anger more.

“I told you the bed is mine. Get your little ass off it.” You lifted your head, to face him and then slid off the bed. Now standing right in front of him — gaze unwavering and posture strong. Duncan knew you were one hell of a stubborn brat. He'd come across you before and he hated every bit of it.

You placed your hand on your hip.

A pose that struck him with a lash of irritation.

“It is a big bed and who are you to claim it first? Just because you're old, you think you can come in here and order me around?” Duncan’s eyes flared up. Nostrils expanding and the anger on his face was like embers swirling in lava.

He took a step forward. “Listen here, little girl. I might be old but you could never reach the amount of missions I have been successful at, nor do you know real struggle. Try sleeping in the Siberian Winds with no clothes, not a single thread to cover your damn body.”

You couldn't believe it.

He was rubbing his life experiences in your face as if he didn't himself chose to work for Damocles.

He became the black kaiser because he wanted to.

In the heat of the prickling anger, you also stepped forward. Your chest brushing against his. “You chose that for yourself but I won't let you choose the bed. Either we both sleep on it together or you take the fucking floor. There's no way in hell I'm sleeping on the floor.”

Duncan groaned.

He knew of the abundance stubbornness you possessed. There was no way you would back out, knowing that the way you got yourself snuck into his mission was by being completely adamant and demanding money if not allowed in.

But he too couldn't retreat, as his pride was on the line. “I could easily throw you on the floor, little girl.”

You snickered. “I'd like to see you try.”

Duncan stared at you. Drinking in your petite form and how small you were in comparison to him. Primal and dark was what stirred within the base of his abdomen when his mind finally grasped on how pathetic you were. Indeed you were a trained killer, amazing at martial arts too but Duncan knew against him you stood no chance.

Due to the diligence of your work and mission, Duncan never really focused on your features.

Your challenge nearly caused him to pick you up and toss you on the damn floor. Duncan raised his hand — fingers opening to wrap around your throat. The inside of his fingers brushed across your throat and you swallowed tightly, waiting for him to act out his aggression.

Duncan’s hand fell.

Your brow raised at his defeat. “Fine but you better keep at your side. If I see a damn leg or arm of yours on my side, you best believe I'm choppin’ it off.”

You dismissed him with your hand and Duncan’s hand formed into a fist. He really wanted to teach you a lesson. Hating how you paraded around Damocles like you were the only one, an egoistic but skilled assasian.

Just for the sake of the mission, Duncan let it go.

He settled on the bed on one side and watched you take out your own clothes from the duffle bag, making your way to the bathroom. In your hand were some panties and a loose, button up shirt. It was what you'd managed to pack in a hurry when you were told about your mission with Duncan.

Honestly, you sort of looked up to him.

No one was as heavily respected in Damocles as he was.

The Black Kaiser.

Aim perfect and sharp. He knew so many ways to discard the enemy and you'd only witnessed a few of them on this mission. It filled you with unbridled excitement when you'd finally landed yourself with him.

Your shower was relaxing. Warm water soothing all your strained muscles — the combat sure taking its toll on you. Slow hands caressing the skin, ridding of it any dirt that lingered. After done shampooing your hair and washing your body, you dried yourself and changed into your clothes.

The outfit was sultry to say the least but you knew Duncan was a man who would never find you attractive.

You knew of his irritation and annoyance aimed at you. It was honestly adorable at times how he got pissed, finding joy in pushing at his buttons.

When you stepped out of the bathroom, Duncan’s head snapped into your direction and his expression hardened. There you sauntered towards the bed with bare thighs and plush breasts peeking out from within the confines of your shirt.

He swallowed, his adjustment of himself not slipping past you.

You laid down on the bed and let out a sigh, finally finding peace. A good night’s rest was surely needed and this bed could provide it all. As you shifted to find a comfortable position, your shirt rose up in the friction exposing the black lining of your panties.

Duncan caught a glimpse of it.

His eyes darkening.

“Could've worn something warmer.” Duncan said, not looking at you. A scowl made its way across your face as you sat up, body strength on your palms. Leaning forward made your loose shirt fall by your sides, cleavage revealed.

“You got a problem with everything, old man.”

He rolled his eyes.

“Is that your only retort? Calling me old?” He snapped, staring at you. For a moment his gaze lingered to your lips and then back up to your face. Eyes filled to the brim with frustration and something – dark too. Lust or maybe anger.

“Are you not old? I bet you can't even get it up anymore.” You chuckled and that seemed to have crossed the line. Duncan reached for you, hand entangling in your hair. You felt him tug on the roots and pull you closer, face only a mere inches away from yours.

Your breath hitched.

Fighting him right now could get really dirty and you wanted to see how far Duncan was willing to go. His action only working to entice you. “You really should watch your damn mouth, little girl. I don't take nicely to such disrespect.”

You let out a chuckle. “Accept it. You cannot get it up, old man.”

Duncan’s fist tightened, nostrils flaring at your impolite words. You stared at him, your tongue slithering out like an enticing snake and running across the plump of your lips in an attempt to seduce him. “Or can you? I've heard older men fuck better. Is that true, Duncan?”

Duncan growled.

He tugged you down, to between his legs. Duncan nuzzled your face against the tent in his trousers. His bulge protruding as he shoved your face against it. “Does that look like I can't get it up, little girl?”

You shook your head slowly, hands hastily moving to pull down his trousers, paired with his briefs. His cock sprung out, nearly hitting you in the face and a soft gasp escaped your lips. It was big — fucking massive and you hadn't expected a man of Duncan's age to have such a big cock. Precum sheened over his tip.

It was thick and you knew the pain of the stretch inside you would be delicious. Veins ran from its base, disappearing underneath the pink tip. Your mouth watered at the sight, fingers gently wrapping around the girth.

A sweet hiss fell from Duncan’s lips.

You parted your lips and pushed out your tongue, running it in little licks over his tip, managing to taste his salty precum. Duncan’s breath grew heavier along each lick — chest moving in a slow rhythm.

His fingers still drowned in your hair. Duncan tugged harder, an indication for you to pick up. So you did, wrapping your lips around his tip and sucking it in, taking his fat cock all the way into your tight mouth until it had fully disappeared. You could feel it slip past the little uvula hanging in the air of your mouth, the warm flesh feeling like embers over your tongue.

“Jesus, you're pretty good at taking a cock.”

A giggle almost slipped — you attempted to breath through your nose and salvated around his throbbing dick. Your eyes met Duncan’s drowsy ones and as you whimpered, the vibrations from your throat shot straight through his abdomen.

His hands guided down your head furthermore, burying your nose into his neatly trimmed pubic hair.

Duncan pulled you up, only to slam his cock back inside your mouth. A repetitive action, his thighs shaking and flexing whenever the wetness and constriction of your throat welcomed him. Panting like a hungry beast, he fucked himself into your mouth.

Hips snapping up in desperate thrusts to gain his release.

“Good little girl. This is what your mouth is made for—what it's supposed to do.” He grunted when your struggles began in the form of small hands lightly punching at his thick thighs. “You're only a cocksucking little bitch.”

Tears stung your eyes from how horribly you gagged all over him. His tip repeatedly hitting the back of your throat while moaning out loud. Divulging his pleasure to the people outside the hotel room.

Duncan loved the way you gagged around his cock. Tears sitting prettily in your beautiful eyes and he couldn't help but feel himself come near at the sight of you, this weak and pathetic underneath him. If he'd known sharing a bed would lead to this, the man would've given up in one single breath.

“Fuck—fuck. I'm close, I'm so fuckin’ close, my little girl. Keep suckin’ my cock like that, like the filthy bitch you are.” Duncan was vocal.

That was for sure and you enjoyed every bit of it.

After fucking your mouth for quite some time, Duncan finally shot loads of warm fluid down your throat. You struggled, kicking and thrashing everywhere but he didn't let go. He only continued to ride out his orgasm, feeling his own cock lubing up in the process of fucking his cum down your throat.

When he let you go, you promptly pulled back with a loud gasp. A sharp intake of oxygen. Cum and saliva dribbling in rivulets down your chin, tears wetting your cheeks. Duncan watched as your tits rose up and down, bouncing down slightly whenever you dragged in air.

Your eyes widened when you saw how Duncan’s soft cock suddenly became hard again, rising up. Curved and strong — tip caressing his abdomen. It was embarrassing for you because you'd called him out for not being able to get it up, here he was. In his late fifties, ready to fuck you dumb.

“Fuck you lookin’ at? Hop on.”

Your pussy throbbed. An insatiable ache that only his delicious cock could satisfy. You tossed one leg over his waist, while holding his cock with your hand. Aligning it at your hole, you finally sunk down on it. Duncan and you groaned in unison.

Feeling his cock enter you was such an indecipherable feeling. He filled you all the way, his tip reaching your womb almost. You placed both your palms over his chest, running your nails into the grey and black hair on his chest. Your lips parted, eyes rolled as you fully consumed him.

“Such a hungry fuckin’ pussy you've got. Taking me all the way in.” Duncan raised his hand and smacked your ass. “Cmon, move now.”

You obliged — beginning to grind your hips. In a slow back and forth rhythm. Duncan’s head was thrown back, pressed into the headboard while both his hands settled at your hips. Helping you grind down on his cock. You didn't even want to move, that's how much you fucking relished in him filling you up but then he lifted you, slamming you back down on his cock.

“Yeah, just like that.” He growled when you started to slide up and down. Hopping like a damn bunny in heat, feeling his veiny thick cock rub at your sensitive walls. Your whines were loud and prominent through the room as you held tightly onto his broad shoulders.

Lips agape and hair wet from the shower, it made you appear ten times prettier than you were. Duncan’s cock only hardened more, if possible inside you. The tremor in your whole frame was slowly becoming known to him and he scoffed, a breathty grunt leaving his lips. “Can't even fuck yourself on my cock and you have the audacity to speak to me with disrespect.”

“I'm sorry,” came a whimper from you. Nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, dragging them down into tiny slits.

Duncan helped you ride him, both his hands tugging at the flesh of your rear. He drove himself into you, in and out, in a fast rhythm. It was all too hot. Your body felt like it was boiling up and Duncan’s hands moved up to hold your breasts, thumbs flicking the nipples.

Dark brows furrowed and lips fallen apart, he let out aggressive grunts like some hounddog that couldn't have enough of you. “Pathetic whore. Jus’ a pathetic little whore who needed to be fucked. If—fuck,” he grunted, balls throbbing. “If you craved a cock this badly, you could've said so.”

Your eyes squeezed shut and walls gripped him like a vice. Duncan leaned forward and bit down on your shoulder, teeth digging into the skin hard enough to draw blood. He continued making you ride him, loving the way your tits bounced in his hands. A feeling driving him delirious.

The sound of skin against skin grew.

A languorous heat spread in your lower stomach. An indicator of your upcoming orgasm. Duncan’s hands kept playing with your soft mounds — his teeth littering bite marks at where your neck and shoulder became one and the way his hammered his cock inside your cunt was enough to push you over the edge.

Your arms flew to his shoulders, holding him tightly. “Duncan, ‘m gonna cum. ‘m so close, please.”

He looked up at you, loving the warmth you produced when you'd clung onto him like a koala to a tree. He pressed his lips over yours, something he himself was in shock at. His teeth tugged at your lower lip, sucking on it and as the kiss warmed, so did your cunt.

Duncan groaned as you slammed down on his cock repeatedly. A strong and soul chilling orgasm tearing through you. Eyes rolling back to your head and whimpers of sensitivity echoing in the room. He held you tightly as you came, enjoying how your little frame suffered from convulsions under his hold.

Duncan didn't give you a chance to even register your climax. He'd already began thrusting up your cunt, arms wrapped around your waist in a bone crushing hold. “Wait—wait! I still— oh my god.”

He didn't let you relax.

After all he too needed to cum.

Duncan could feel the throbbing sensation in his balls and the pulsating of his fat cock inside you. With a few, harsh strokes delivered inside your pussy, he released himself and your head buried in his neck from the feeling of being filled to the brim. His hot cum shot out, rope by rope, decorating the gummy walls of your pussy.

You could feel all of it.

Heightened sensitivity.

Your body went limp over his, leisurely dropping and Duncan held you. Both of you panted like wild animals who'd just got done finishing their preys. Your breathing was uneven and your throat was parched. Duncan heaved out, his low groans sending waves of sparks to your aching cunt again.

Thick fingers running up and down your bare back, with his other hand he caressed your hair. He wasn't rough when it came to sex but at times he felt like destroying your cunt whenever you'd speak to him in that stuck up, vicious little tone.

Duncan’s hand that played with your hair suddenly tightened, fingers pulling on the soft locks and you whimpered.

You were thrown off his lap on the bed. Appalled at his actions, you turned to look at him but Duncan only pressed your head further into the bed with his large hand. His other hand pulled your lower body, bending your knees.

“Wh-What are you doing?” You gasped out, the question coming out muffled.

Duncan let out a chuckle. “You thought we were done, hm? There ain't no way we're done with one round, little girl.”

You couldn't even resist as Duncan sunk his cock into you. Back arching and spine curving, a muffled whine of need and satisfaction echoing. He held you down as he thoroughly fucked you, his hips colliding with yours. Balls hitting the swollen stripe of your cunt.

“Look at you.” His bated breath increased your libido, as you were also speechless at his. Duncan was still ready to go on meanwhile you were struggling with staying still. Tired and drained from all his harsh strokes.

His grip on your hair tightened as he pulled you up to his chest, locking you firmly. Duncan pulled out then pushed right back into you, his tip reaching your womb. A small bulge forming on your stomach everytime he slammed back into you. Tears of overstimulation dropped like pearls on your face and Duncan moaned in your ear.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” He praised.

Your walls clenched.

Duncan hissed and felt his strokes become steady, dragging across your spongy walls to feel them. Then he climaxed inside you, filling you up again once more. This time his cum dripped out of you, making a mess on his own cock and your thighs. Pussy glistening from the slick, cum and your own climax.

Duncan pulled out and pushed you back down on the bed.

He also collapsed next to you.

Chest rising up and down, breath a broken rhythm. You sniffled into the pillows, thighs shivering the overstimulation you'd suffered at the hands of Duncan. He wasn't as cruel as you'd depicted him to be. Duncan reached for you, pulling you closer to him and wrapping an arm around your waist.

His large arm covering the expanse of your chest.

“Sorry, little girl. You piss me off a lot.” He whispered and you flipped to face him, burying your face in his chest. “And I'll continue to piss you off.”

Despite the fact that he'd pretty much blown your back out twice, you still held on to your defiant traits. He let out a laugh, reaching over to grab a cigarette and light it up.

Dragging in a smoke, he brought the cigarette to your lips and your parted them, allowing him to settle it between them. You pursued his actions and released the smoke through your nostrils.

“That feels good.”

Duncan smiled. “Better than my cock?”

“Oh shut up.”

[holdmytesseract]

Mercy

Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader

Summary: It's time for the archer to let go of the past and focus on the future. It's time to start over. But... Can Daryl show mercy upon his enemy? Can your words help him do what's right?

Warnings: TWD stuff? mentions of the Savior war, injury (being shot), pain meds, fluff, mentions of murder, mentions of babies (you know me, i can't resist)

Set in Season 8!

Word Count: 1,7k

a/n: This is inspired by one of Rick's famous quotes - which I also borrowed for this story. 🤗

Disclaimer: That quote isn't mine.

Personally, I love this lil' story. Might be one of my favs...

EoH Masterlist °☆• LITRM Masterlist °☆• Daryl Masterlist °☆• Masterlist

"Y/N? I'll be goin, 'kay?" You saw Daryl coming to stand in the dooframe of the medical trailer. You sat up in bed; giving him a nod. "You're gonna... take care of Dwight?" The archer nodded while biting down on his lower lip. "Yeah..." He paused. "Yer gon' be okay while 'm gone, sunshine?" Your partner referred to the injury you suffered earlier that day. Even though Eugene had manipulated the bullets, a Savior had managed to shot your leg nevertheless.

"Sure. Don't worry about me - or my leg. It's gonna be okay." The man gave you another nod, "A'right. Keep restin'. Dun want to see yer pretty ass walkin' 'round the Hilltop when I return." and turned to walk away.

But you stopped him.

"Daryl."

He froze in his movements and turned to face you once more. His blue eyes landed on yours; view slightly impaired by a few loose brown curls which hung in his face. You held his gaze for a few moments, before you started to move and shift your body, in order to stand up. It caused the archer's eyes to widen. "Whatcha doin'? Y/N, don't. Doc said ya should stay in bed. Ya dun have to-" Daryl cut off his own sentence with a sigh, seeing that his efforts weren't able to stop you. Instead, he stepped inside the trailer and quickly reached for you when he witnessed you limping towards him.

"Damnit, woman. Why 'r ya so stubborn?" He grunted as he wrapped his strong arms around your middle; keeping you steady and preventing you from falling. You just smiled up at the taller man. "Learned from the best, you know..." Daryl scoffed.

A moment of silence passed between the both of you, in which you chose your next words wisely. "Daryl..." You started again, and placed both palms on his chest. "I know you want to kill Dwight. I wanted to kill him too. So did Tara. And he deserves it. He does. For what he did to her. To you. To me..." You swallowed and quickly shoved the horrible memories threatening to knock against the door to the forefront of your brain aside.

You took a deep breath and looked into your boyfriend's eyes again; thumbs rubbing circles into his soft pecks. "But we have to be better than that, Dar... We gotta - and you know it. This won't make us feel better. Killing him won't bring Denise back or..." You had to swallow again. "Or undo the things he did to you. Giving him a chance is right."

Daryl just looked at you; watching you fight against the tears which desperately wanted to spill from your eyes. "It's not easy, I-I know, but... It's over. I-It's the past and... now it's all about our future. What's after - like Rick said. I don't want you to start over with a kill. Start over with me."

The archer listened patiently to every word you said - but only kept looking at you. No word left his lips, but you could see the gears violently turning in his head. So, you decided to give him a few moments to sort his thoughts and process what you had just said.

Your thumbs kept rubbing circles into his clothed skin, but when you noticed a single tear escaped the corner of his eye, you quickly lifted your hand to gently wipe it away. You had a guess where his mind had taken him - and your heart ached for him... Nevertheless was your point still standing. Killing Dwight wasn't the solution.

"Dar..." You softly called out his name; grabbing his attention and taking him out of his most likely dark thoughts. "My mercy prevails over my wrath," you whispered with your hand still on his cheek. Ignoring the roaring pain in your leg, you stood on your tiptoes to at least reach his chin and place a soft kiss there; feeling his beard tickling your lips.

Another beat of silence passed, before Daryl cleared his throat. "I'll better go now. Wanna be back 'fore it gets dark." You nodded; still with that smile on your face. "You'll do the right thing." Daryl chewed once more on the inside of his lip, then leaned down to press a lingering kiss against your forehead. "I'll try," was all the archer said, before he turned on his heels and walked out of the trailer. Your eyes followed him; hoping that your words were able to reach him.

Daryl's gaze softened again - your mission successful. He looked at you for another long moment, before he took a deep breath. Bending his knees, he slid one arm carefully under your knees, while the other stayed around the small of your back. Before you could even say something, he had carefully - not to hurt your already injured leg - swept you off your feet and was carrying you bridal style back to the bed, where he gently lowered you again.

"I could've walked, you know..." "Nah. Ya already walked enough for today. Gotta give that leg rest 'n time to heal." You subtly rolled your eyes but also couldn't suppress the smile which tugged at the corners of your mouth.

The pain meds Siddiq had given you were strong enough to knock you out for quite a few hours. It was pitch black outside, when you reopened your eyes again. It was dark in the infirmary as well, except for the soft glow of a few candles.

It took you a hot minute to realise that you weren't alone... Daryl was seated on a chair beside your bed; your hand neatly tucked in his. Slowly - with your brain still a bit sleepy and woozy, you turned your head to face the archer. "You're back..." You stated in a low voice. The man grunted in response. "Told ya I'd be back 'fore sunset. I found yer sleepin' when I returned, though. Thought I let ya sleep, knowin' ya need the rest." You nodded, and gently squeezed his hand. "How long was I out?" "Dunno, sunshine. Few hours." You gave your partner another nod and gazed up into his face; handsome features softly illuminated by the dim light.

"How's yer leg doin'?" Daryl asked you then; voice tinged with concern. You tried to move your leg - and hissed slightly. "Painful. Bit better thanks to the painkillers, but yeah... Being shot sucks." He nodded. A compassionate expression took over his face. "Yeah, I know." Of course, he knew. He's been shot before... Multiple times by now. "But you'll get through this. Yer strong," Daryl assured you and brought your joined hands up to his lips in order to press a featherlight kiss against your knuckles. You smiled.

Another beat of silence passed, in which Daryl didn't say a single word - not even move a muscle; his expression neutral.

A long moment of pleasant silence passed between the both of you, in which you bit your lip; unable to push that one obtrusive thought aside in your head. You had to know - had to ask.

"Babe...?" You called out quietly. His eyes instantly snapped up to meet yours. He hummed in response. "Did you..." You swallowed. "You know... kill Dwight?"

But then he slowly started to smile, "Nah." and shook his head. "Didn't kill 'im." Your partner's words made you smile as well. He had listened. He had chosen what was right. "Really?" Daryl leaned in closer to you. "My mercy prevails over my wrath," he whispered; quoting you. Your smile even widened while you lifted your free hand to cup his cheek. Daryl turned his head to press a kiss against the soft, delicate skin of your palm. "I'm proud of you, Dar. You made the right decision." He nodded; shortly biting the inside of his lip. "Send 'im away. Gave 'im the car keys 'n told him to go." Told 'im to find 'er," he added whispering. "Sherry?" Another nod. You smiled again; thumb gently caressing the apple of his cheek. "Love persuaded you then, huh?" He scoffed, but smiled. His cheeks and the tips of his ears turned red. "If ya wanna call it tha'..." "Mhm, think I do." Still smiling, you sat up slightly - just enough to press a tender, lingering kiss on his mouth. The archer's eyes fluttered shut; lips locked with yours.

You could've sworn that your heart skipped more than just one beat; your stomach doing that funny flip thingy.

Retreating from the kiss, you laid back down in bed; the hurt muscle in your leg protesting. Your hand left his cheek again and came to rest on the mattress instead, while your other hand was still snugly wrapped up in now both Daryl's big palms.

"You gonna stay all night, Dar?" The man sitting beside you nodded. "'Course I do. Where else should I be?" You started to smile again, but rolled your eyes. "In your bed, Dar. You need to sleep. It's been a long, tiring and nerve-wracking day..." Daryl just looked at you for a long moment, before he shook his head. "Nah..." You raised an eyebrow. "I jus' need one thing in this life, 'n tha's you, sweet girl," he said in that low, gruff voice you came to love so much.

"Oh, Dar..." You had to fight the tears. "I love you. I love you more than words can say." Daryl smiled and lifted your joined hands to press once more a gentle kiss against your fingers. The look of pure, raw love in his eyes spoke enough. Daryl didn't need words to express what he felt. How deeply he felt.

"Sleep now, sunshine. 'N when tha' leg's all healed again, we're gonna start to work on the future... What's after..." You smiled; curiosity piqued. "And what's after? For you? For us?" The archer shrugged his shoulders. "Dunno..." A small smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth. "... but, I thought we, uh, could start workin' on tha' baby we decided to have... 'N buildin' up our home again, of course." Your heart skipped another beat; smile even widening. "Sounds perfect to me, babe."

Tags: @angelwings-crossbowstrings @belitoxx @lou12346789 @fictive-sl0th @marvelcasey05 @loz-3 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @erebus-et-eigengrau @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @mikaela-granger @sweetz1919 @secretsicanthideanymore @txtttttttttttttt @dixons-sunshine @dilfdixon @dixonsdarkelf @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @huntedmusicgardenn @ffsjustletmesleep

[pleasantlycrazyworld]

How does frank castle deal with a s/o whose love Langauge is acts of service?

I feel like that is his love language, so he understands you wanting to do things for him, he understands that showing how much you love someone is easier than expressing it verbally...however! that doesn't mean he is open to you doing things for him.

It started slow, you would wake up first and slip out of his arms in order to make him coffee and some eggs. Then it turned to you do laundry for him, making his favorite dinner, going to his apartment to straighten things up when you know he was busy and it was driving him insane! Frank absolutely cannot wrap his head around the fact that you want to take care of him fully even if it seems like it'd be an inconvenience for you.

Since his love language is also acts of service, he wants to be the one to do things for you so what do you mean YOU want to make dinner??? He already has dinner planned for the next week for you in his head.

When the two of you are still a new couple you two have to find the balance between him doing things for you and you doing things for him. This takes a lot longer than it should've if we're being honest and I feel like the two of you have to have a sit-down discussion over what to do to fix everything.

During this discussion he opens up slightly about why he likes being the one to commit acts of service, it makes him feel needed and it gives him a sense of security because he knows for a fact that you are taken care of, that you have what you need because he was the one that got it for you. What he doesn't express is that it makes him feel proud, makes him feel good enough for you. When he does something simple as making a cup of coffee for you and you smile at him like he crafted the sun, he gets a moment of peace, a moment where he feels like the man you deserve.

During the discussion he listens very intensely and tries his hardest to have an open mind while listening to you. He nods along and gives soft hums when you make pretty good arguments as to why you like being the one to commit the acts.

Honestly after the conversation I feel like both of your love languages turn into quality time together. Hear me out here. Instead of bickering over who gets to make dinner the two of you make dinner together. Instead of bickering over who is doing the dishes the two of you do it together, it's only fair since you both dirtied up the dishes while you cooked anyway.

He does still fight you at times, especially when it comes to you having to do something more physically daunting or if it involves you getting up earlier than you need to. --"Babydoll, I got that box go sit down" "Darling why are you up already? No thank you for wanting to make me a lunch but baby you need your sleep." "Sweetheart what do you think you're doing carrying those groceries!?!" *Takes all the grocery bags in one trip* "Princess it is two in the morning if you wanted to move furniture you should've woken me up!"

You argue with him that you are capable of doing heavy lifting and that you got by just fine before you started seeing him, he just rolls his eyes honestly. Obviously this doesn't help calm you down but he had his reasons for the eye roll I swear! "Doll I know you are a very strong, capable woman. It's one of the reasons I love you, but you got me now y'know? You shouldn't hurt yourself over this stuff when I can do it and not get all that hurt."

Omg imagine that's the first time he says, "I love you"?!!? Like you already couldn't find it in yourself to argue with the man for wanting to just take care of you and just wanted to make life easier but now he confesses his love??? Fucking Christ you can't argue back now.

Anywho this might've gotten away from me but I just couldn't stop writing lmao. I hope you enjoyed and if you did please like, reblog, and comment it means the world and helps me stay motivated to keep posting. Request are open! I write for Frank Castle, Bucky Barnes, and Logan Howlett <3

[evilminji]

My ONGOING "SI-OC Ponderings that my Muse is haunting me with but I may never get around to write" Series!

Because, fuck it, might as well. Maybe it will inspire somebody?

Jedi Youngling! Staring down that double barrel Order 66! FUCK.

Now, see, they don't blame the Clones. They don't even blame the Jedi. Whole lot of "victims of circumstance and our Wrong Place Wrong Time environment" going on. But? Are they gonna lay down and take it? Fffffuck no!

They JUST got this body!

Also?

THESE ARE BABIES.

They, An ADULT, have a god damned MORAL OBLIGATION to save as many of this itty bitty alien babies as they can. They warn the adults, obviously. But they FULLY expect? And are unsurprised? When they DON'T LISTEN.

There is a Force Damned PRECEDENT for that. (May you finally rest in peace now, Master Sifo-Dyas.)

The younglings though? THEY didn't get to make a choice. THEY are innocents. And as the only ADULT with knowledge of what's to come? It's HER moral, ethical, and Force given obligation to PROTECT them until they can do so themselves.

As a Jedi... she has to PICK.

Try to save the adults? Those who willfully chose ignorance AND have the ability to defend themselves? To fight and flee under their own power? Or... save the younglings, the infants and babies. Those whose ignorance is that of the young and still learning? Who CAN NOT fight. Can Not run?

It's no choice at all. And if they truely understood? She can only hope they would command her to do EXACTLY as she is doing. Would demand no less. Consider it UNTHINKABLE to ever choose them.

She searches out the hidden passages. Practices lifting things instead of sword stances. She will need to carry so much. Move so quickly. She KNOWS where the attack will come from... Force willing, if she plans well? The Creches will be EMPTY by the time the soilders arrive.

But for that? She must steal. Redirect. Take things from where they should be. It is easier then it should be. First because no expects true mischief from a child, then? Because a war has begun.

Restriction Bolts of the Temple droids and a simple explanation is enough to gain their assistance. It's illogical not to have a plan, even if you never use it. And through them? "Liberated" data jewels. Already plumbed for all the information they're good for. High end, too.

Perfect.

She wipes them all. Fashion's a belt that, one day, Force willing she might wear as a necklace. Then sets to work coping EVERYTHING about the Jedi. When the temple is lost? Their history should not be.

So long as this string of jewels alone survives.

The Jedi are remembered. Luke with not have to start over from half memories and hearsay. They can learn from the past AND still have it. She puts diaries, prophecies, books the jedi wrote for fun. Various Force sects both past and still alive. Teaching methods. Anything. Everything.

A time capsule.

It HAS to be enough.

She fears it's not. Sneaks into the hall of retired Sabers. Sits. And opens her mind to them all. Please. Please! She knows. She's so, SO sorry. You were done. You EARNED your rest. She would not ask this if youngling were not on the line. If Illum might not become to dangerous to travel too.

....if she did not fear what would become of you, should you stay.

The Sith is coming. He WILL take the temple.

Will you come with me now?

Some do, some promise to die, and die VICIOUS. Swear to blow to deadly shrapnel in the hands of any who dare come for them. Others leave their casings. Willing to come, but not as they were. She apologizes for the indignity, as she stuffs them all in the hidden paths.

Honestly? They muse. They've seen worse. Remember that-? WE DO NOT SPEAK OF THAT. HE WAS TRYING HIS BEST, OKAY?!

And all throughout? One must wonder. What do the other younglings think? That OC is strange? Mad? To be ostracized? No, of course not. She is nice. Listens when they're upset. Does not judge or make every emotion a test. Hugs come readily and her mind FEELS older. Like the Creche Master.

And? If Master YODA can be short? Why not OC? She just lives with them. The other Knights and Master's don't listen to her because she Sees things. It scares them. They SAY they do. But children know the difference, don't they? Between what you promise you'll do... and what you'll ACTUALLY do?

But see, the Creche Master's? Increasingly distracted. Preparing the eldest of their charges for WAR ZONES. It's stressful. The fact that the youngers are quiet? SHOULD raise alarm bells. They KNOW better. But they are distracted.

The ones who DO notice? Are the orphan Padawan. The older initiates. People assigned to "help out".

There aren't enough mind healers. Not enough hands to help around the Creche. It was considered a good idea. Young children are full of uncomplicated Light! Yes, Yoda. They are. But as with Obi-Wan, so too with the Crechelings? Children are NOT here to mend the hurts of their elders. That is NOT their purpose.

They are exposing the youngers to Fear and Grief. Broken bonds and the echos of war. This is NOT good for young force sensitives.

Yet... are THEY not young Force Sensitives? Children too? OC knows they are. And it is a bitterness on her tounge. She does what she can. Because SHE is and adult. They notice too. How can they not? The other children turn to her, she guides them through their day. She gives "projects" and listens to concerns. Walks everyone through meditation.

......runs everyone through the Evacuation Plan? WHAT Evacuation Plan?

Oh.

It... it helps. Having something they are PART of. Doing TOGETHER. Something to combat the growing, creeping, darkness that is not violence and death. This? This is planning. Preparation. It... it feels like have some sense of control again, after everything has become senseless and OUT of control. Yet? It is not DARK. Not seeking to force control on others.

It is just... quietly stepping back.

One foot, then another. Calmly and with grief. Letting go, knowing you have tried, as you leave those who have made their choices to the fates they chose. Silently slipping out the door before the building begins to burn. Just as you warned them. Just as they refused to hear.

It's okay to grieve.

Even those who are still alive.

Of course, Shadows ARE supposed to notice unusual movements. Spies and Falling are a concern. Heeey, little youngling! How's things? Just swinging byyyy~☆ soft interrogation tactics~! Gonna admit to any of the Blatant Theft?

Yes, actually. Good you are here. Saves OC the trouble of trying to figure out who is and isn't a Shadow. Kinda convenient, Master Vos, that it's you. What's the fastest set of ships you could stash at the exit to this and THIS hidden path? By this date?

He's sorry, what?

You heard her.

Tiny youngling, unflinching, staring him down and asking for ships like that's a thing she has any right to do? Why? Well... that depends. Are you actually going to listen, Master Vos, or do you want an answer that will comfort you?

Excuse me.

Do you remember? Master Vos, the suffering of Sifo-Dyas? A temple full of Jedi, a seat upon it's council, yet not a single soul would hear him. Would truely listen. How many Knights? How many Masters? Tell me, Master Vos, exactly how many have DIED for willful ignorance and attachment to peaceful days?

There could not POSSIBLY be Sith. So we will not train or prepare. There can not POSSIBLY be a war, Sifo-Dyas, so be consumed by your fear alone. Die, alone. Let Padawan and peacekeepers be Generals. Because what the Force has shown you? It is happening today.

So we refuse to see it. Cling to the present, Master Vos.

Isn't it so COMFORTING here?

You don't have to know what might be. Don't have to ACT. Can be blind and choose ignorance.

A vision then? He surely concludes. For he is no fool. And the Youngling just looks tired. Eats their meal. Answer the question, Master Vos. Do you remember? Was Master Kenobi's suffering also ignored? How well did that work out. Will you LISTEN or have you already come to your conclusions, and now simply seek information to support them?

....he wants to. He does. But you're like, four.

OC nods. Fair. She can see the genuine conflict on his face. He HEARD her. But can not let go of what his eyes tell him. The Force is too muddled here. She too, would have a hard time trusting a small child with something so serious. But.... she can not change her path. And neither can he.

May the Force Be With You, Master Vos.

Plan Besh it is.

She is a small adorable child. The Coruscant gaurd are overworked and filled with spite. Who wants caff and bribery~? Do they clock her immediately? Yes. Is this hilarious. Also yes. Who did you kill, small child? We promise not to be mad.

No one, yet. Could change. She would prefere it not. But who knows. Anyway~☆! Do any of YOU caff loving (here have a refill) gentleman happen to know of any asshole Goverment Officals with REALLY fast ships that run primarily of droid piloting? With potentially easily disabled trackers? Not that she, a small child, would be DOING anything with this information!

It's just neat information to know! *innocent blinking of innocence*

Uh huh. And they were decanted yesterday.

That SAID.... they have a list. Oh noooo! They dropped the list! So much effort to pick it up. Hey, kid, could pick that up and definitely not steal it for us? Good baby Jedi. Thanks for the Caff. Tell Vos to stop haunting the lower levels. It's OUR job to hunt criminals for sport, not his.

Yes, sir o7

Of she goes? To the Senatorial Garage. It's mostly droids. Of LOOK! I have this handy little tool! Pop. Pop, pop, pop~! Hey? Wanna fuck over the asshole who doesn't appreciate you, steal this ship, AND save the lives of small children?

BOY WOULD THEY! Says local every droid in the Ship pool.

Great! Just figure out where the trackers are, how to turn them off, and when it's time? Meet a one of these locations for pick up. We're gonna NEED you. Like... actually NEED. Not "I'm throwing my money around on the latest and greatest then not USING THEM FOR ANYTHING" supposedly need. You'll have SO MUCH WORK.

(They're gonna cry in Binary. Omg? Fuckin FINALLY???)

And so... inevitably. The clock ticks down. The drama of adults ramps up. They smuggle a few clone troopers through surgery. Try to warn the others. Know it won't be enough. The momentum is too great. The gears of War will grind over everything.

Like a forest fire... the old has to burn away for new growth.

But like hell is she letting that come at the cost of tiny bodies. Clones trapped in their minds forced to fire upon children. There will be enough horrors this day. This can be on less. They WILL be ready. And... they are.

She sees the council running out. Knows what it means. And she does NOT hesitate. Her signal goes out. Her Padawan helpers dropping everything to BOLT for the Creche and the go bags stored there. They are followed by friends. Who do not understand, but trust them. Who's Master's do not understand, but assume this is some plan they were not told off.

It certainly seems so, when in the distance? They hear the temple gaurds fighting to hold the line. Hear blasterfire. They race down the hidden paths. Are met with droids, loading up food and medicine, leave as soon as each ship has the assigned numbers. Again and again. Senatorial chips mean instant pass into space. Important business, you understand.

The droids will follow, with everything. Including what was nailed down. Probably the nails too.

Might steal the hammers while they're at it.

Next stop? Wild Space.

Explorcorps newest finds. FRESHLY deleted. All points warning already being sent. A Fuck You Very MUCH, Sith-y Pants. You'll not be getting ANY of the Corps workers if THEY can help it. And hey... the Masters and a few knights were a pleasant suprise. Them and their squad of rescue troopers? Almost make enough adults to take care of everybody!

Now all they have to do? Is hide, rebuild, and regrow.

Return when Luke has down his Luke thing.

Who knows... not her. She made a plan and she DID it. Some one else can decide for a while. She's just a kid. Tell her when they get there, okay?

[maneskinwh0re]

“one more word.” ~ butch!wolverine x ladypool!reader this is just a wlw honda odyssey scene bc i need butch wolverine to be real. i also aimed to write them in character! give feedback babes plsssss

cw: outdated cultural references, fourth wall breaking, nsfw, blood, f!ngering, strap!sex, idk just lotta gay shit xx

wc: 4.3k...👁️👁️

"get. in the fucking. car."

"it'll get you there safe and sound!" nicepool reassures with a loving pat to the top of the grey honda odyssey. "lil betsy always does." his eyes then fall to dogpool, who is held tightly in your arms. "you're gonna have to give me my dog back, though..."

"i know," you reply matter-of-factly. "listen-" you start before mary puppins places a paw on your hand. "yes, child... if you ever want to give her up or if she needs a new home, or if something should happen to you, i'd love to be her mama."

nicepool only wheezes at your remark. "what would ever happen to me?"

"lots of stuff," you reply with a shrug, smiling innocently under your red mask.

as soon as he realizes your seriousness, his smile fades and looks to the older woman standing to his right in an ask for help. the wolverine lets out a huff as she pushes herself off the honda and moves to grab the dog from your grasp.

"n-no! we're running away- agh- the corn was too dense, girl!" you say in apologies to mary puppins and watch sadly as laura hands the you-variant over to the other, nicer-you-variant.

you begrudgingly get in the passenger seat of the shitty car, waving goodbye to dogpool. the obnoxious sound of you singing "we'll meet again" is muffled by the car windows as laura drives you both away.

time passes. maybe 15 minutes, maybe an hour. doesn't matter, reader— don't worry about it. you haven’t been paying attention to the time because you’ve been sneaking quick gazes at the wolverine in the driver’s seat to your left. the way her brown hair curls up on either sides of her head looks so cute. yet the way her large, gloved hands grip the steering wheel causes your mind to wander other places. all you know now is there’s been a lingering thought poking at your brain since you picked this wolverine up from that bar in her universe.

"okay i'm just gonna ask. what's with the suit? first thing i did when i flamed out: i took mine off."

"drop it." laura mutters.

"it's not that ugly..."

"stop talkin about my suit."

"did you make it yourself? been there!"

"quit. now." the tension in her voice is rising.

"the x-men make you wear it? those sons of fuckin bitches. they are not your friends, i'll tell ya that. friends don't let friends leave the house looking like they fight crime for the los angeles rams-"

"shut the fuck up about the suit," she snaps.

"woahwoahwoah watch your frown lines, angel baby." you back off, lifting your hands in a motion of surrender. "i'm just trying to bond a little bit-"

"yeah? well then talk about something else."

"fine!"

there's an uncomfortable silence between you two, only for a moment before you play around, making spiderman web motions with your gloved hands. you just can’t help but annoy the woman next to you, it’s too much fun. it’s like your duty as passenger princess.

"stop it," she snaps again soon enough.

"why? don't wanna get distracted seeing my fingers in this motion?" you tease, moving your middle and ring finger back and forth. laura only scoffs at the sexual innuendo. "ahh, the natural hand position of the sapphics." you turn to look out the car window and make eye contact with the reader. "is that why so many masc lesbians are obsessed with spiderman? i guess only earth-616 knows the correlation..."

and wait- if i'm supposedly you, the reader, but as ladypool-- then how am i breaking the fourth wall? gasp! a fourth wall break inside a fourth wall break... that's like- sixteen walls... am i talking to myself? or talking to myself? whatever. anyway i know why you're here, you slut. let's make conversation by pushing wolvie's buttons some more, yeah?

"if they could fix your world, what's the first thing you're gonna do when you get outta here? some rubbing alcohol shots? maybe a wiper fluid chaser?"

laura's gaze slowly turns to you. "what did you say?"

"i said when you get back, what's the first thing you're gonna do-"

"no no, before that."

"if-" you catch yourself. shit. "-they can fix your world?"

with an aggressive slam on the break, your seatbelt doesn't even have time to prevent your head from colliding with the dashboard. and as the car stops, you know there's nothing that can save you from the rage behind wolverine's tone.

"what do you mean if?" she asks through gritted teeth, body fully turned to face you.

"i mean-"

"you lied to me. you don't have a fucking clue if they could help me fix things. do you?"

"no, but i mean-" you start to defend yourself before three metal claws impale your thigh, and probably extend under you all the way through to your seat. "agh- fuck! fuck! i didn't lie!"

"you lied!"

"no! i made an educated wish!"

laura only tilts her head at your defense, eyebrows furrowing.

"because i need you," you continue as you unfold the photo that was in your pocket and hold it up for her to see. "this is why. right here. cause if we don't do something, they die. i don't know anything about saving worlds, and why would i even care? cause my entire world is right here in this picture. it's only nine people, and i have no idea how to save it alone. i know how to fuck people up for money but you- YOU know how to save them... at least the other wolverine did-" at that last comment, laura twists her claws in your thigh, striking enough pain for more curses to escape your mouth. "f-fuck! ah- i guess i'm stuck with the worst one-"

"did you just say you made an educated... fucking wish?"

"they call me the merc with the mouth. they don't call me truthful timmy the blowjob queen of sass catoo-"

the three metal blades are quickly removed from your thigh only to be brought up next to your face. laura's shaky breath exercises seem to be the only thing keeping her from slicing you apart.

"one more word... please, give me one." her guttural voice is a low warning. you wait a moment as if thinking to a random word generator in your brain.

"~gubernatorial~" you say simply before cowaring behind flailing arms when laura prepares to stab you in the face, only fake you out. her breaths are deeper, more steady as if she's trying to calm herself.

"you know what? you're a fucking joke... no wonder the avengers didn't take you, or the x-men or fuckin anyone. i mean you are a ridiculous, immature, half-wit moron. i have never met a sadder, more attention-starved, jabbering, little prick in my entire life. and that says a lot 'cause i've been alive for over two hundred fucking years." the volume in her voice begins to rise with each word, striking your emotions further and further as you sit there speechless, yet her anger keeps rising. "and i'll tell ya- that villain chick was right about one thing: you will NEVER save the world. you couldn't even save a relationship with a goddamn stripper! and motherfucker i wish i could say you'd die alone, but it's one of GOD'S best jokes that you can't die! except that's all on all of US!"

she hits nerve after nerve. the pain in your chest hurts too fucking bad. you are not only speechless, you never want to speak again. you have millions of words to say yet none at all.

how fucking dare she bring up vanessa like that? who does laura think she is? no fucking hero, that's for goddamn sure.

"you got nothing to say, mouth?" she asks, almost out of breath from yelling accusations.

all you can manage to say is one sentence. and she doesn’t even fucking deserve the warning too. "i'm gonna fight you now."

wolverine only snorts, a pitiful laugh towards your remark. "oh, are you?"

you take note how a quick punch to her nose shuts her right up, and watch in satisfaction how blood trickles out her nostril down to her upper lip. your small victory is cut short by her fist colliding to the same spot on your own nose. she pushes you to the window and grabs the back of your mask, then slams your face down onto the center head unit multiple times. different radio stations flick back and forth as you make contact with the buttons and nozzles, eventually landing on a song from the original 'grease' soundtrack.

♡ last gore x nsfw warning !! :3 ♡

you lift your hand to grab one of your swords but another punch to the cheek causes your vision to cloud. by the time you come to your senses, laura has buckled your seatbelt and is digging her left claw into your stomach, twisting her hand slowly.

“not talkin’ now, are ya?” she growls before withdrawing her claws and moving to stab you again. pulling the lever on the side of your car seat, you fall backwards to quickly dodge her blow. you kick your foot against her shoulder to keep her back, and then tightly wrap your legs around her head. another three blades enter your side in a sudden motion, causing you to release your chokehold.

“agh! you dirty bitch!” you shout before kicking her out the front windshield of the honda. you laugh and point as she rolls and tumbles through the leaves and dirt. as soon as she gets up, you unsheathe your swords while she sprints back to you. she’s a fucking animal—ramming herself into the front of the car, causing the airbag to go off on your stomach and send you flying back into the reclined seat.

laura jumps through the broken windshield and lands claws first on top of your already bloodied body. slash after slash, you both further each others’ injuries until you flip laura over and pin her down to the seat. there is surprise in her eyes with a hint of something else that you can’t quite pinpoint. trying to catch your breath, she only looks up at you with a ratted smile, as if amused to see you attempting to kill her. blood stains her face and fanged teeth, and her short hair is tangled and damp with sweat. fuck—it’s a sight. with your elbow against her chest, you’re still close enough to smell her alcohol-tainted breath.

“need a mint, you preening slut?” you ask before you are flying through the sunroof of the honda and falling to the ground outside the car. after kicking yourself up, your little wolvie gestures for you to come back with a simple hand wave behind the window. who are you to keep her waiting? throwing the swords over your shoulders, you take out your baby knives before running back to the car and jumping through the window.

broken glass and blood is everywhere, but neither of you care. you’re both having too much fun trying to murder the other as you take turns regenerating. it’s a pointless waste of time and energy. a total meaningless circle of fighting and healing.

you pin laura through the broken windshield and onto the front hood of the car, stabbing her shoulder and arms repeatedly with a knife. the sleeves of her suit eventually fall apart, fabric scattering and leaving her muscular arms to your gaze. so clearly you’re distracted. she grabs your wrist behind her and heaves your arm over her head to hold you in her place for a moment to catch her breath.

she then drags you by the belt from across the car and holds you down with her body in the back seat. her claws sink through the red fabric and into your sides. again. and again. the repetitive motions of the sharp metal soon causes a big tear in the fabric of your suit, exposing the skin under your breast. it seems as if neither of you notice at first, continuously fighting until another stretch from her pinning your arms above your head causes a terrible ripping sound. you both stop and look down, unsure on who has the decency to yield the fight first.

wolverine pauses for a moment, hovering over your bare tit before suddenly attacking your nipple with her mouth. there is nothing gentle about it, and you can’t tell if her actions are still a way of fighting with the harsh ways her sharp teeth nip and bite.

you lay there for a moment in shock, chest heaving up and down in short spurts as you try to breathe. your hands drop the knives to the car floor behind you, yet your wrists are still trapped in the wolverine’s grip. before you can think to stop it, a breathy whimper escapes your lips. the sound pricks laura to come to her senses and looks up at you with a flushed expression.

fucking hell. if you weren’t okay with what’s happening, you would’ve said something by now. even laura knows that—considering how fucking chatty you are.

“were ya hungry, peanut? needed a mid-fight snack?” you tease, tilting your head with a raised brow.

“i didn’t say i was finished.” she smirks before lowering her head to your chest again. her tongue circles and flicks at your nipple, treating it oh so lovingly before biting and pulling at it so fucking roughly. you chew on your bottom lip to muffle your own moans—all because you’re too stubborn to let her know how fucking good it feels.

she’s holding herself back, yet you kick her chest and propel her weight backwards onto the head unit, while the momentum pushes you the opposite direction into the third row of seats. as she falls, the grease song playing from the radio is muted, leaving you two to a short-lived silence.

"i was wrong—the honda odyssey fucks hard,” you say, rolling your head back and cracking your neck in the process. looking back to laura, you usher her to you with a teasing two-finger motion. “too bad you don't, needle dick.”

“oh, we’re just getting started, bub,” she replies, eyeing your manspread position before lunging to you again.

calling her an animal is to say the fucking least. but you’re no better. she rips and tears your suit, not giving a single fuck in the world that you may need to keep it in tact for later in the plot line. she pulls the tough fabric apart, exposing your tits to her lingering eyes. it’s like a switch is flipped. all of a sudden she can’t get enough, wanting- needing to see more of you. for a moment, you just let her. your belt is removed followed by your pants all while you just lay back and watch her do the work. soon you’re only in your black underwear, smirking under your red and black mask at how fucking needy she looks. her callused hands grip your waist, easily pulling you up to her as her mouth finds your other nipple.

“you’re not you when your hungry. and clearly, you always seem incredibly hungry, wolvie.”

“shuh du phvck uh.” is what you make of her boob-drunk gibberish and assume she’s simply cussing you out.

“huh? couldn’t quite catch that. y’ know you really shouldn’t talk with your mouth full-”

a large, gloved hand muffles your masked mouth before her lips release your tit with a pop.

“off,” she says. you furrow your eyebrows in confusion and she must be able to tell by your silence, causing her to elaborate quickly while her free hand lingers on the black lace of your underwear. “i don’t want a damn word out of your filthy mouth until you’ve taken these off. if you want me to fuck you, you’re gonna have to let me.”

fucking hell. panties are soaking wet right now.

you slowly nod your head in her restrictive grip, and lift your hips to remove the damp fabric from your body. damp from blood or sweat or something else… who fucking knows and who fucking cares. you toss them to the side and immediately pull laura closer to you. her harsh kisses mark your neck and collarbone before she wets her middle finger with her tongue and starts to rub quick circles on your clit. you almost push her away, her starting speed too overstimulating at first, but you soon get used to it, bucking your hips in a physical ask to move faster.

“keep still, sweetheart. that’s it,” fuck even her praise is still low and demanding somehow. you wrap your hands around her hairy forearm, hissing curses as you feel yourself grow closer and closer to the edge.

“fuck- you know, i bet you’re a pretty good dj in some other univers- oh my god!” your silly quip is cut short by her pushing one finger into you. then another. and before you know it, you’re a blubbering mess as you soak her hand as well as the car seat beneath you. her mouth is against your masked ear, shushing your witticism. white rings of cum coat up to her knuckles while her thumb resumes a quick pace on your clit.

banter is over as quiet whimpers replace your usual chatterbox routine. her large fingers feel so much better than your own, and then that’s where she leaves you—fingers curling inside your cunt causing your brain to see stars. your orgasm hits you hard, but not as hard as she does—a rough slap to your face intensifies every sensation, leaving you pained like putty in her grasp as you come down from your high. “don’t got much to say now, huh?”

your eyes focus on her hair and how it twirls up on both sides—the classic hairstyle for any and all wolverine’s across the multiverse. “why do~you style~your hair like that?” your voice slurs with dizzy haze, and laura only looks down at your drunken state quizzically. “were ya going f’ wolf? ‘cause it makes ya look more like a cat. like my little meow meow~”

a growl creeps from the back of her throat before three claws find a home—digging into the flesh on your shoulder.

“shit! you angry ‘bout it, mama?” you ask teasingly before watching her slowly remove her belt. “no- not the belt! i won’t be a naughty girl, i swear!”

“don’t be dramatic,” she scoffs as she tosses the belt aside and straddles you again.

“that’s kinda my job. hashtag drama queen. hashtag full-time. ‘round the clock. just like how your full time job is hiding a fully comic accurate superhero suit under your clothes for when its use comes once every twenty fucking years.”

that switched something in her. she yanks your mask off your head and glares down into your eyes. then a smirk sneaks its way onto her lips. fuck. what does she know that you don’t?

“you think this suit is the only thing i keep under my clothes?” your jaw tenses when laura unzips her pants and allows her strap to spring out to your view. it has to be at least eight to nine inches, the color matches her skin tone and the base of it connects to the black harness buckled around her boxers.

“marvel jesus h. christ! where did you even get that thing? the prop table from the set of alien?!"

you half-expect an answer, but she only lifts your mask and forces a mouthful of the red fabric down your throat, leaving your fear-factored size question hanging in the air. “there… silence is nice. isn’t it?” you’ve lost your voice, but you don’t protest. your frustrated whimpers are muffled and shaky breaths escape through your nose as laura traces her dick up and down your wetted lips. “just relax, beautiful,” she whispers as she slips the tip into you. the tone of her voice is teasing, clearly loving how much power she so easily has over you. pushing in deeper, her pace stays agonizingly slow, as if she’s having to think about controlling every thrust. your eyes follow the grinding movements of her hips and your legs instinctively wrap around her waist. as laura starts to speed up, your backside rubs against the car seat. trying to find a sense of stability, your hands scatter up the butch’s clothed torso and eventually grip her broad shoulders. you can’t help but buck your hips again, no longer ashamed of how fucking needy you look doing so. one of her hands claw at the shoulder of the seat behind you while the other has a strong hold on your hip, guiding your body with hers. guiding soon turns to holding and holding soon turns to pinning. not only is she now chasing her high, but she will do whatever she needs to get to it.

“agh~ fuck. is this what you wanted? to be wrapped around me like this? you’re so pathetic, it’s adorable.”

when all you can do is moan in reply, laura knows she’s fucked you stupid, but still long ways away from being done with you. she suddenly stops altogether and pulls out of you, chuckling quietly when you groan due to your pleasure being delayed. she turns you over and props you up on your knees, then holds you down by the back of the neck with one hand and finds a firm grip on your ass with the other. her relentless thrusts continue, causing a repetitive sound of her hips slamming into the backs of your thighs. every time she pulls back, you follow her dick—leaning to her to chase that friction.

she hits nerve after nerve. the pain hurts too fucking good. your words are still muffled against your ladypool mask, the fabric now damp with saliva and drool. maybe tears as well.

“speak up, princess. ‘s hard to hear you,” laura instructs as she removes the piece from your mouth.

“i… i’m… gonna-” you start before trailing off, finding it hard to focus on words as laura speeds up her pace.

“what, pretty thing? y’ gonna cum?”

“tha-that’s what she said!” of course. of-fucking-course those are the words you can get to leave your stuttering mouth.

“god—do you ever shut the fuck up?” laura groans before tossing your mask to the side and holding your hips steady. when she notices your silence, she leans forward, a hand massaging your tit and her teeth taking a harsh bite at your earlobe. “or maybe you just need to be fucked speechless, don’t you?”

yes. a million times yes.

quiet whimpers leave your lips, the smell of cigars and alcohol mixed with the stench of blood and sex is almost overwhelming. laura slows her pace again, taking her sweet time watching, playing, torturing you for pleasure. that sadistic fuck.

“i do love these cute little noises you’re making, yeh? tell me how good it feels. i know it feels good but i wanna hear you say it—come on. spit it out,” she says into your ear. her lips have gone dry from breathing heavily and sweat trickles down her forehead and nose. the torn fabric of her yellow and navy blue suit rug-burns against your skin from all the excessive movement, but you don’t care. laura pulls your arms behind your back before yanking a seat belt out of its buckles to wrap tightly around your wrists. the rough material hurts, but it’s a good-hurt. when you only let out a porn-styled moan (half-exaggerating to poke fun at her), the wolverine behind you reaches under your neck and grabs your jaw. “you’ not gonna use that mouth?”

“fuck- okay! yes, it feels good. you feel so fucking good. just- please, let me- let me cum!”

and your begs get so easily rewarded. laura must have a soft spot for you because her thrusts speed up again, and this time hit hard with no intention of stopping.

what has little wolvie turned you into, hm? you, ladypool, a beggar? breaking out of character many would argue, but maybe that’s her goal: finding what breaks you.

“not yet. shit- wait ‘til i say.”

the hilt of her strap hits her clit just right as she continues to drive herself into your pretty cunt. as minutes pass and breaths quicken, her metal claws unsheathe and dig themselves into the seat beneath you two. she’s close.

with clamped hands still tied behind your back, you sense that knot in your stomach growing. guttural sounds from the back of the throat slip from laura’s lips, filling your ears as she hits your g-spot again and again, pushing you so quickly towards your release for the second time.

“right there! plea- please, please! i’m… gonna-”

“go on, sweetheart. fucking cum~”

at her words, her command—you feel yourself tighten around her. and your moans must’ve been what did it for her because immediately after—husky groans are heard from behind your bare, trembling body. the heavy weight of a wolverine falls against you, breathing hard onto your skin as her sweat-coated face buries itself into the nape of your neck. a trail of little bite marks, enhanced by her small fangs, are left scattered across your shoulders and upper back.

her middle finger finds your clit again to draw little circles, bringing out pitiful whimpers and post-sex muscle spasms from your worn out body.

“ca- canada…”

your contorted face and senselessness brings her to hum—which is her version of a laugh in this dizzy state. she broke you. and it didn’t take very much, did it?

she turns your chin to look up at her, her face reflecting that drunken haze with the ghost of a smile across her lips. her focus falls to your parted mouth for a moment before finally connecting her lips with yours. the kiss is softer than you expect, as if her hunger’s satisfied, yet the warm taste of cigars and alcohol linger.

“y’ did good, sweetheart.”

just good? must she always be so condescending?

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

spent way too long on this lol comment/repost if you like it, loves !!

this is so gonna flop but idc i wrote it for me and bookie 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

taglist: @pr1ncessjo <3

[kei-kinda-writes]

Rainy Days!

TYPE: Headcannons, Rainy days: It's a rainy day! what do you do to pass the time?

CHARACTERS (separate): Shoto Todoroki, Katsuki Bakugo, Denki Kaminari, Eijiro Kirishima, Izuku Midoriya, Hitoshi Shinso, Ochako Uraraka, Tsuyu Asui, Kiyoka Jiro

Can be red as platonic or romantic

SHOTO TODOROKI: Eating favourite food or snacks together

Very chill guy and would sit down with you to enjoy your favourite food together :D

Either you’ll sit in silence or work together on some homework: a good homework helper

No matter what it’d end up pretty quiet because I don’t think he’s very good with small conversations

Once a conversation does get going though he’ll engage and listen very well all you’d have to do is start it

If you end up finishing your food Shoto would end up offering to go get you some more while making himself some more soba

by the end he’s probably smiling a bit while listening to you and nodding along to what your saying

I think Shoto loves hearing stories about you too so if he got you to share some he’d love it

Will tell you a bit about his training since that’s the only thing he’d really know to talk about

KATSUKI BAKUGO: Baking

I know he can cook well but to me it would be the absolute funniest thing if he couldn’t bake if his life depended on it

no matter what this will end up in absolute chaos with a messy kitchen and constant banter and yelling

definitely a time to remember! You would probably be the one to bring up the idea and have to convince him

in the end though you would probably end up with some delicious 5 star deserts

He probably refuses to anything besides cupcakes or chocolate chip cookies though

Will laugh at you if you make a mess and force you to clean it up

Goodluck if you start a flour fight though! :) that’s the start of war and Katsuki won’t stop until he’s won

Took at least half an hour to clean the kitchen though

DENKI KAMINARI: Video games

Firm believer he likes video games and probably anime

Will play any game genre with you however has a preference towards horror or adventure games

If you play dress to impress though he will somehow absolutely destroy you and end up on the podium almost every time

some sort of music or TV show would be playing in the background if you aren’t playing a horror game though

Will scream like a little girl if you play horror games so you gotta prepare for that

Ends in a noise complaint 100%

would willingly try out a bunch of free games with you and rate them together with you

overall it’s an amazing time and I think even if you don’t play he’d still like for you to sit around and watch!

EIJIRO KIRISHIMA: Workout/Training

He likes working out and stuff lots so would invite for you to join him!

Won’t care if you do or don’t participate just enjoys the company and tells some of the best stories

Imagine he’s doing some sort of push ups or sit ups telling you about homework with Katsuki and you’re just sat listening and helping him out

if you do participate though he’ll be your personal cheerleader and always be so helpful and outgoing telling you good job on a constant

Might make a small competition to see who can do more push ups or lift more

Would be open to sparring too for more practice!

Another thing he might do with you on a rainy day is re-dye his hair which would likely end up in chaos and calling Mina in for help

IZUKU MIDORIYA: Movies

Like I’ve said before he probably really likes documentary movies and would invite you to watch one!

Wont mind if you end up choosing a different type of movie though as long as the two of you get to watch something together it makes him happy

Additionally won’t care if you’re doing work or scrolling through social media while watching I think he just likes having your company

If you are watching a documentary movie though be prepared for him to pause and rant about how a fact isn’t correct

So if you don’t like that he might not be the best person to watch a movie with!

If you end up falling asleep at any point though he’d cover you with a blanket or something along the lines of that and turn the volume down slightly so you won’t end up woken up

Will bring out an all might blanket to have whilst watching the movie too as well as some snacks! :D

Likely makes mental note of your favourites and buys some or at the very least grabs whatever you’d like from the dorm kitchen!

HITOSHI SHINSO: Naptime

He’s so sleep deprived and without a doubt takes naps

And when it starts raining? I mean come on we all know that’s perfect napping time

It would take awhile before he invites you to be his napping buddy but once you are it’s the absolute best

He probably has some of the comfiest pillows and blankets and the two of you bring out a small mat he has in his closet for sleepovers and just nap in the same room

Might also put on some sort of show as background noise if you need it or if you just don’t feel like napping

Adding onto that if you don’t wanna take a nap or just don’t feel tired he’d probably just leave you to your own devices and let you do whatever you’d like as long as you’re quiet

Won’t pressure you to nap with him would more like casually offer it on a rainy day to see if you’d like to join

OCHAKO URARAKA: Arts + crafts

Like I’ve said in a previous headcannon I think Uraraka enjoys doing little crafts like making bracelets together or painting stuff like that!

if you aren’t doing a messy craft you’d end up in a pile of pillows and blankets on the floor I think

if you end up making bracelets together I think she’d absolutely adore making matching ones together :))

Or something like switching canvases or papers every couple of minutes!!

I am a firm believer she listens to lofi beats so that would be playing in the background

warm lighting, silly banter and crafts, rain, and calming music, the vibes would be immaculate

After the stuff you two made is either hanging up somewhere in her dorm or she’s proudly wearing it around! :)

if you make little charms or something along those lines she would keep it in her costume for keepsakes much like the all might gift she received around the holidays episode

TSUYU ASUI: Playing in the rain

I know it’s a bit cliché, but from what we know about Tsu liking water I’m a firm believer that she likes the rain

Jumping, dancing, running around anything is on the table

She wouldn’t pressure you into playing with her, she would definitely enjoy it if you did however she’d be fine if you watched from inside or just on some steps under a roof

Building on that she probably is a very flexible person and wouldn’t mind just watching the rain with you if you don’t wanna get wet but still wanna spend time together :))

If you do end up playing in the rain together you’d probably both come back in with soaked clothes and muddy pants!

definitely calls it one of her favourite memories with you and probably asked to take a couple of photos together to remember the occasion

Photos from then were likely her phone background for awhile

KIYOKA JIRO: Learning instruments + listening to music

Jiro loves music we know that from the UA carnival concert ordeal thingy (idk what it’s called man)

I think it’s sorta like a love language of hers to teach music to the people around her

So if you’re open to it and willing to try she’d love to take advantage of the bad weather and teach you how to play an instrument

I’d say she’s pretty understanding if you have noise sensitivities or just aren’t willing to learn anything though

So if you aren’t too keen on it though or maybe you just don’t like loud noises she’s also spend time sharing her music with you :)

You’d be in her room just exchanging songs and such, she wouldn’t pressure to share songs either but would absolutely adore it if you did

After awhile if she ended up with a good knowledge of your music taste she would make a playlist and that’s the one she’d play every rainy day or in general time she spends with you!

Would be willing to paint nails or work on homework whilst listening

Thanks for reading!

Side note: Apologies if there’s any typos, things don’t make sense, or the characters feel as though they aren’t properly done!

[antoniabishop]

The best local underground music I heard this year:

really incredible folk punk rock; this track in particular is very upbeat with a bluegrass feel. perfect for fans of Heretic Pride or Goths-era mountain goats; Aria's voice and arrangements have a very similar quality. a friend of his in a different act described Coffin Salesman as "The best band in Boston"

Thou Merciless Graves is a concept project written by lead singer and guitarist Growler Graves (Caitlin) after two battles with breast cancer. The show is about a selkie whose skin is taken by a lighthouse keeper and her relationship with him as he tries to get it back. It won two huge awards at the Boston Fringe and involved a gorgeous cast of bioluminescent jellyfish (umbrellas) and eel (think Chinese dragon) and a lighthouse keeper on stilts in a yellow slicker, hunched over like a tumor. Not all the music is on spotify yet, but this will give you a taste of how amazing it is.

Eden is a freshman at Berkelee and all her players are incredibly talented young students as well! The production value is probably the closest to professional as anyone on this list; Aruna's influences are in the wheelhouse of Billie Eilish and Clairo. Dreamy, breathy, longing-pop.

This is the title track and final track on my friend Justin's album which just came out a few days ago. We actually met at a Mountain Goats show, but by contrast Justin favors the more stripped, acoustic, Zopilote/West Texas sound. She and her girlfriend have such an enviously lovely queer community atmosphere developed out in rural MA where they just opened a performance space. Really the GOATs of lifting up fellow queer creatives and fighting the power.

My friend Aria of Coffin Salesman does a music discovery podcast and this is just hands down my favorite song he's ever shared. So good.

Bluesy, romantic offering from my friend and coworker Tyler who has written and sold songs for one of the most achingly romantic voices on the radio right now... though I won't say who 🤫. "The names" are also all really incredible players; the organist in particular does some really incredible stuff all over their spotify. This song is one of their gentlest offerings; they can really turn it up to 11 on the chaos.

Currently touring America, this guy is fucking nuts. Confessional, personal folk punk kind of like if Kimya Dawson were a little bit older and a little more nuts. This is an incredible album.

Outta Western MA, this guy has the cacophonic elements of Tyler and the Names with the orchestral sophistication of Neutral Milk Hotel or Frank Zappa. It's hard to pick a single off this album, as its cohesive overall arc is a huge part of it, but if you like the taste you should listen to the album beginning to end. Chris performs in a ski mask and the performances are often rearranged, interactive, and one-of-a-kind, with many props, lights, etc.

More stripped acoustic confessional folk punk sung by a whiny voice; do you think I have a type? 🤔 lmao.

This guy is 4 years sober after being really really big in the scene and falling hard. These days his stuff pushes the limits of the form, much like the Leafies but in a very different way. Chris is an incredible poet with an incredible voice.

Closing it out with another big party banger like White Girl, Wasted. Originally from Scotland, I saw Goodbye Blue Monday's first US show when they opened for Coffin Salesman. Good classic rock to thrash around to about experiences being bipolar and such. Really good fun.

what was really special about this is that I started going to shows chiefly to see my friend Tyler (Had to Let You Know) and discovered everybody else by meeting other acts on the bill, following them on insta, and going to their shows, on this incredible self-fulfilling upward spiral feedback loop tailored to taste.

most of these songs have <2000 streams on spotify, so they're really quite small, and your listening to them makes a huge difference! so thank you if you give them a chance 🖤 I have had the time of my life discovering the scene and I can't wait to share more with you. And feel free to drop a line in my ask box letting me know what you think!