#marvel needs to stay out of politics
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𝐈 𝐒𝐞𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝
Pairing: Dbf!Joel Miller x F!reade
Word Count: 6k
Summary: Joel has had a ‘crush’ on you for a long time now and will make sure no man gets in the way of that.
Warnings: PORN-WITH-PLOT. Kinda. Reader is not legal to drink but still legal. Polite reader just trying to not be a bitch while dealing with a pervy old man! Joel has a crush on you, a BIG one. Bro gets so mad he gets a boner. Mutual touching he drives, daddy stuff, a teeny bit of spanking & nipple play, unprotected P-In-V, tummy bulge, aftercare for once wow!! No beta.
A/N: ANON REQ!! (you know who u are and here’s my take on a bit of a jealous Joel) I would've done way more smut if I didn’t have a high fever rn + writers block 😵💫! so VERY rushed.
No man should covet a woman he doesn’t own.
And you weren’t his.
Your daddy would make sure you would never be.
Joel tells himself that. Over and over again, the only prayer in his head, the hymn he lives by ever since you’ve been staying with him per your father’s request. You yourself slowly recognizing Joel’s patterns of life. As he wakes up he takes pills for his headaches, swallowing them dry without a blink. His body is accustomed to the feeling. Every Saturday he’d take a weekly drive to the liquor store to stock up on the much needed provisions to his day-to-day routines. Booze, in much less dramatic terms.
Your father was out of state for work forcing you to settle up with Joel for a couple of months, the only man your father would allow you to actually be around. In fear of you doing something bad. Bad as in… Sex? You could only assume that’s what your darling daddy meant.
A rocky relationship in the cruel reality.
Joel’s home. It was livable, there isn’t much to say when it’s the house of a man who’s been living alone twenty years. Indications of life scattered upon furniture the only real telltale signs that someone actually lives there. Coffee table littered with rings from mugs he’d simply leave for too long, the way the worn, vomit-colored green couch sags in the middle. Any prints that were on the buttons of the TV remote had been rubbed off by pressing around them, the last time he had gotten a new television was probably going on fifteen years now. Sad. Truly and utterly sad.
Then you came along.
Remnants of your liveliness woven into the once so dreary place. Something as so simple as a hair tie left on the counter, the very vague scent of perfume you left lingering in the small space of the bathroom every time you’d leave it. Now at night he’d walk past the second bedroom of his home that had been left unused, once depressed and dark, had the warm glow of your lamp being left on, leaking through the gap between the door and the floor. The littlest things.
Joel pretends not to notice.
Though, he does.
He notices the way you hum so very quietly the times you’re obligated to cook your own breakfast. How you pull your knees up onto the couch when you sit. Rolling your eyes at him every time he’d vexingly tell you to make sure to lock the front door when you came in. You listened.
You’re too comfortable here. Too at ease.
And what’s worse is he was getting used to it.
He’s not your fuckin’ father. He’s not your keeper. He’s just the man your daddy trusted well enough to take care of you when he was gone. Sorry excuse for a babysitter all the while you weren’t a baby. An adult who can well take care of herself. Only agreed because he wouldn’t want you to discover how he’s been living for practically twenty years by being alone for two months. The dark quietness of a home when it was just you there.
He told himself it would be easy. Two months. He’d keep his distance.
It’s almost impossible. The way you made him feel was sickening. You’re always around. Sinking deep into the couch, marveling in whatever boring sitcom would play on the box of blue light that flickered throughout the room. How you’d take sips from his beer just to tease, wrinkle your nose at the taste deep down you liked. Making your tongue buzz. You were making yourself at home in a place that was never meant to be yours.
The only thing that worsened it for Joel is that you were so blissfully unaware of what you were doing to him.
He thought the hardest part of this arrangement would be keeping you out of trouble. Your father acting like if he was gone you’d fall apart as a person. Be out partying or fuckin’ every night. Far from the truth. Laying so contently home every night.
Coming back to reality, the hardest part was keeping himself out of it.
It’s the way you’d walk around his house in whatever you had slept in that night, no matter it be a tank-top and those tiny, plaid shorts that went up your ass. Appreciating the comfortability, though, he fucking hated it. You acted like you belonged there.
Often he’s finding himself watching you too long, staring at the curve of your mouth while you speak, the plump of your lips as you stay entertained by the television with your face at a gentle rest. He was always seemingly gawked.
Fifty-seven wasn’t the age to have crushes.
And on Sunday’s, the day of the lord, of course. Joel Miller goes to the local bar.
Nighttime was surprisingly when the crowd died down. You were surprised to see that as you walked through the doors that sheltered the poorly kept saloon style establishment. Tables seated with older men closer to Joel’s age, some luckier than others to be accompanied by a woman. Smelled like stale beer and sweat which in reality was more disgusting than appealing. Loud breaks in the casual conversions of the crowd as pool balls clacked together. Rejoicing coming soon after.
Usually you had something better to do on these nights. Going out with your friend’s always suffices though of course they canceled out today. Great, stuck with Mister Miller for a night of drinking all the while you weren’t allowed to let alcohol in your body at your age.He wouldn’t lie for you either, he was supposed to take care of you. Not turn you into the starts of an alcoholic.
Torturous. Did the man want you to shoot yourself?
He led you through the slim pickings of a crowd there really was, hand grazing the small of your back to keep you close. Nothing more. Both sliding your bodies onto the leather tops of the barstools. Uncomfortability was the price to pay for the first hand of drinks. A squeak in your stool that no one had the patience to fix.
“Whiskey.” The request sounded more like a plea from his lips. “Two.”
You knew the second one didn’t mean for you.
Rubbing his temple as he flagged down the waitress. She was all too polite for what seemed to be the shittiest bar on earth. As if a small town in Texas would give you any better. Nodding her head in your direction. Your lips pursed as if ‘Beer” was gonna be the next thing to move past them. Though, you digressed.
“Soda. I guess.” Joel gave a nod to you. Of course he approved of that action. Rubbing a hand over his jaw he sighed. Forgetting to take his pills this morning. Fuck, the throb behind his eye was something only the alcohol could numb by now.
“You could’a stayed home.”
“Yeah, I could’ve.” You shrugged, admittedly so you rather be home- no. You rather be out with your friends as you were supposed to be tonight but in an act of such kindness, you came here with Joel. “Maybe I wanted to see why you liked this place so much.” It was a simple muse to him, though it did strike your curiosity.
“Quickest bar from home. Quickest way to get drunk.” Curiosity met with an undeniably depressing answer. You were used to it by now. His lips pressed into a thin line. Once the barkeep came back she handed Joel his drinks, plural. As she also came with yours. Soda rimmed with ice. He picked up the first drink given, perspiration coating the glass. His thumb pressed against the cold lowball as he took the first sip. Heavy hot liquid sliding down his throat. Numbing him, his mind. Felt refreshed.
You hum, stirring the ice in your soda in circles with your straw. He hears the clinking over the din of the bar. Louder than his own thoughts.
You crossed your legs. Your thighs squishing together through the denim of your jeans, the material a bit loose on your body, a choice out of comfortability to buy baggier bell bottoms instead of the ones that hugged your ass tight. Drawing Joel’s eyes unintentionally.
Fuck this.
He drags his palm down his face, trying to wipe away whatever the fuck he was feeling. It’s sickening for him. It’s so easy to not feel like this when it’s something so simple, so selfish as a one night stand, a whore he had paid to suck his cock. Different. Far different, especially since the last month he’s spent his time admiring the woman before him. You. The innocence in your eyes that served your beauty. It was this crawling under his skin he wanted to rip away from.
So fucking vigilant on the scent of you, the sound of your voice, the way you shift ever so slightly closer to him as another group of men pass.
Joel breathes out slowly, averting his eyes to the sweet sight of you.
The night goes on, the whiskey dulling the edges of restraint with every slow, steady sip. Slowly the place was growing on you, the night seemed to cool it down, less noise less chatter. Seems everyone needed to knock out a couple drinks before settling. You would’ve been happy to say the same if you were allowed to order that beer. You propped your chin in your palm, your elbow flat against the bartop avoiding any of the sticky substances that would coat some unfortunate patches of it. Your eyes scan throughout the place. Not much to take in, not much to see.
Though the slow deliberate movements draw the tiniest bit of attention from a table your eyes accidentally glance at for too long. Subtle but inevitable.
Joel catches the way the men sitting at that table glance your way. The way you adjusted your body to once again sit straight up. Clearing your throat.
And that’s when it starts.
The first one wasn’t particularly bold about it. Just a flick of his gaze in your direction before returning to his minutes-til’-flat beer. The second man, greying, looks a little longer. Too closely. He nudges his friend, mutters something incoherent- something probably offensive to earn a laugh from him. Now he looked again.
Joel knows that look.
The kind that lingers for too long. That waits for an opening.
The kind that makes Miller’s teeth grind, his shoulders go rigid. His fingers slowly begin tightening around the glass of gold as he keeps his eyes forward. His eyes flutter just a bit to the left, seeing your smile. Trying to hide it by gently pressing your lips to the rim of your glass. Pretty pink lips. Before time heat is bubbling in his belly. Praying to god that was the fuckin’ whiskey.
Those men are still watching.
The next sip of booze doesn’t quite help as much as he’d want. It doesn’t smooth out the sharp edges of this feeling, the low simmering deep inside his pelvis. It keeps getting worse.
He’s coming over. Walking with heavy legs.
Joel sees it from the corner of his eyes, the way the man pushed back the chair, unhurriedly, sloppily walking straight towards you. From what Miller could gauge from the corner of his eye and what the wiry grey hairs covering the man’s beard told him is that he was older. Older as in his own age. Fifties either early or late. Joel wanted to die. Exhaling sharply, slamming down his glass a bit too hard.
Muddled, you’d lift your head from your glass to look at Miller with an eyebrow cocked. And before you could even speak-
“Evenin’.” The man spoke.
You’d blindly blink at the man now standing beside your barstool. Startled for only a second before schooling your expression into something- polite. Something surely this man was undeserving of yet you really couldn’t help it. Instincts.
“Hi.” Joel wouldn’t turn, wouldn’t acknowledge him. Not yet.
“Can I help you?” You smiled, sweetly.
The man would lean in as expected. The strong smell of beer radiating off his breath. Open-mouthed ogling like a fucking dog. He was clearly absolutely wasted. Just those words were an absolute understatement.
“Is this your daddy?” Of course he’d say that. Gesturing to Joel who was looking straight on before he turned a glance to the man, his eyes slits as he glared. Understandable. If you weren’t trying to give this man the benefit of the doubt you’d be glaring too. This guy was undeniably a fucking dick.
“No- no,” You’d giggle. “My babysitter.”
You didn’t like how your mind and soul was making you act, unfortunate your internal instincts were to be tooth-achingly sweet in public.
You wanted to die.
“S’my lucky day, huh?” You’d blink again. Silence as if the man had stole all the thoughts from your head- not in the good way.
“No. Not- not quite.”
You’d laugh, trying your best to brush it off. The man should go away soon. Probably just mistaking you for something you’re not while you’re here trying your best to avoid something awkward. Joel’s jaw clenched.
“Well,” He hushed. A finger twirled into one of your soft locks. Your body tensing as you kept up another nervous giggle– you were only egging him on more. “I just wanted to see you up close.”
“She ain’t interested.” Miller told the truth with that. You weren’t and you were further from interested. Though the nervous, dumb smile on your lips told the fuckin’ pervert otherwise.
“She didn’t tell me that.” He pushed. “I’d much rather hear that from your mouth, sweetie.”
You hesitated, your lips parted though words weren’t falling. Refusing. Alas, Joel Miller reached his breaking point.
He popped up from his stool as he moved over to the guy. The greying man hesitated at the sight, of course. He wasn’t gonna be the kinda man to get his ass beat over something fucking stupid. Though, Joel was willing to beat his ass for your sake.
A long beat of silence through the access chatter swimming around the bar enters the space between you, Joel and this sad fuckin’ man.
Joel doesn’t blink.
He doesn’t breathe.
He just stares.
The man exhales a chuckle, deep down he didn’t want to walk out of here with a broken nose for flirting with a girl he wanted to fuck. A girl he thought was alone, dumb enough to possibly join him and his sad excuses for friends sitting around his table.
“Didn’t mean any trouble, pal.” He threw his palms up in a mock surrender though, he didn’t mean it. That’s what that beer was for afterall. Stepping back only an inch, letting the hair that was between his fingers fall back to your shoulder.
“Just bein’ friendly.”
Joel didn’t answer, why should he? The man let out a scoff as he walked back to his table with his tail between his legs. That was good. All Miller could do was sigh. His shoulders still at unease as he sat back down on the bar stool. Your heart at a slow thump against your ribs.
You knew deep down that really, you were fine with that. Sure that man was a cuck, sure, you were uncomfortable, but you also knew yourself and you knew if that man would have touched anything else other than the tip of your hair. Oh fuck. He would’ve been gone.
Or– would he?
It doesn’t shake the feeling that Joel was annoyingly protective if that was the right word for it. That man wasn’t your dad. He didn’t need to stick up for you.
He never did.
He ran a palm down his face –again– he couldn't take the way he was around you.
“Ohh, what the fuck.”
He was tired of this.
Goddamn if that happened a month ago chances are he wouldn’t have done anything other than roll his eyes and tell the fucker to go jerk off somewhere else but– oh my god did Joel wish he was the one that close to you. Breathing you in.
Of course, you weren’t a random woman at a bar.
If only he had enough balls to speak to you.
Pent up hormones ready to blow out of him every moment he was around you. He was too fucking old for this.
Too fucking old.
If he felt the rush of blood to his cock one more time this night he was gonna–
Joel was already moving by now. Already shoving back from the bar, the scream of the stool leg against the glazed wooden floor of this god forbidden place made you inherently flinch. His jaw tight, the muscle in his cheek ticking as he reaches for his wallet, tossing a few bills onto the counter without counting. He didn’t fucking care about the act of either over-paying or under-paying right now. He had one, sinfully unfortunate thing on his mind.
He knew he’d never do it.
But that didn’t mean he wasn’t thinkin’ it.
Then his hand was on your wrist.
Grasping.
Firm. Unyielding.
“C’mon.” He gritted. “Time to go, baby.”
That was a new one. The name melting of his tongue like an instinct.
His grip was tight. Breathing hitched at the feeling of the grip. He was lucky it didn’t hurt. It was enough to make it clear he needed to get out of there. The reason wasn’t clear. It could be innocent on his part: he didn’t want you in a space where old men are looking at you. Ogling you like a slab of fuckin’ meat.
His real reason was sickening.
“Joel– c’mon!”
You’d whine, maybe you had a good reason to stay. Maybe you were just being defiant.
Typical, like a child.
He didn’t give you time to finish.
The bar stool nearly topples as he pulls you up. Stumbling in the boots you were wearing. Tugging you in tightly to stand beside him. He was tensed, heat radiating off his body like a goddamn furnace. He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t speak as if there was a point to. Nothing he said got through to you anyways. He just moves.
People are watching. Who wouldn’t?
Your pulse spikes as you catch the amused glances throughout the pub. Folks who weren’t looking before now blinking. Causing a scene. Again,
You. Wanted. To. Die.
And to make it all better Joel’s eyes rip to the table those men from earlier were sitting at. The ones who eyed you. That same man who had harassed you muttering something to his friend beside him. Fuck.
He thought he couldn’t get any more pissed.
His palm covered his lips with no way to read. The music playing throughout the room covered any sounds of a hushed whisper into another man’s ear.
Though, Joel is pivoting.
His grip on you released as he took a heavy-footed stomp over to that table. He frowned. He wanted to kill them. He would if he could. “What the fuck did you just say?”
“Jesus Christ, man.” One of the men mused. Of course, Joel Miller was just another sorry excuse of a man to them. “You don’t give it up do you.” Your babysitter wasn’t intimidating in a setting like this. To a man drunk as a fuckin’ skunk sitting with a bunch of men who reeked of the same stench.
Joel doesn’t move.
He goes to walk away. No. There was absolutely no point in doing anything.
You could’ve heard a pin drop.
“All I said is that if I were you I would’ve fucked her by now.” No. Nope that was it.
A quick turn back around and Joel had slammed his fist into the man’s face. Heavy handed. Joel’s knuckles cracking with the impact in the same note as the man’s nose.
“Fuck!!!” The man cried. It was well deserved. Why would Joel let a man talk to his–
You weren’t his.
Miller couldn’t breathe in the moment. His breathing ragged, watching the blood quickly drip out the man’s nostrils. God was it satisfying.
Your stomach plummets. You can confidently say you’ve never heard a man yell like that. Before the next tick of epinephrine hits Joel his hand now runs to your waist instead. Pushing you out the doors before running into the parking lot.
Holy fucking shit.
The air of the night hit you like a bucket of ice quickly. Suddenly you were regretting only wearing a thin hoodie with a tank top underneath. Joel was dragging you to his truck, practically throwing you into shotgun.
Slamming the door to your side.
He rounds the front quickly. Pulling open the driver’s side as he slid into the seat. You swore you could hear the way his breath shudders in his throat. His Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat as he pulls his seatbelt over his body– safety first, right?
The truck was suffocating. Too small. Too fucking warm.
You lick your lips, tasting salt. Your nerves were shot to hell. “Jesus Christ, Joel.”
He frowned. Fist on the shifter before pulling it into drive. He was speeding away, far away from that bar. Yeah, that one punch may had ruined his personal ‘holy day’ for a good while. If him and that man are ever in the same room again most likely one of them is getting there shit rocked and Joel worries that next time it may be him.
He doesn’t necessarily wanna take that chance. All because of something so FUCKING stupid.
He doesn’t speak. Nothing to say on his part as for you– too stunned to say anything. You had no understanding of why Joel Miller of all people, of all the men you know was acting like this. His fists balled against the steering wheel. Knuckles turning pale. Ghostly.
“Fuck.”
He broke the silence with a curse. He was mad. At least, he sounded so. The growl in his voice masked the need. He could feel every twist, every coil in his gut. All because of you.
He can’t keep hiding it.
“You’re makin’ me so fuckin’ crazy, baby.”
The smell of hard booze on his breath impregnated your nose. Slowly beginning to understand the acts in the bar. “That wasn’t me trying to flirt.” You quickly retorted. That was the honest truth that you’d be abiding by. You were too nervous to do anything except giggle like a dumbass so that’s what you did.
“I can’t help the fact I try to be polite. Even if they’re verging sexual harassment.”
You’d try to keep it light hearted with a quip. Joel didn’t laugh. Pursing his lips into a line before speaking. It only pissed him off more.
“Not what I’m sayin’.”
You breathe. What the hell did this man want from you if it wasn’t some reasoning from your lips? The road was wet, asphalt glistening with a sheen of rain making light reflect easily off like a mirror. As Joel turned his brights on to properly see through the dark road that light reflected into the truck. The formally dark truck.
Your gaze was pulled to his lap. An accident at first but–
Oh.
Oh, fuck.
His cock would writhe against the tightening denim of his jeans. If that didn’t tell you enough you didn’t know what would.
Joel’s hands flex against the wheel, the veins in his hands popping.
“Whatever you say, M’not fuckin, jealous.”
No no, he was.
And the tension rolling off of him is suffocating, filling the small front space of the truck like a thick fog. Choking you. You could almost still feel the touch he left on you. The phantom of his fingertips that had branded your skin only a few minutes ago now.
He wanted you to touch him and it wasn’t a secret anymore.
You reached your hand out to place on his thigh. The way his teeth sunk deeply into his bottom lip. Yeah, he fucking needed this. You felt your own stomach bloom with heat as your fingertips just barely scathed the denim of his jeans. You were just so close. Closer than you’ve ever been. And if this is something to forever be forbidden,
For all you know this could be as close as you’ll ever be.
He adjusted his hips. Spreading his legs as if to coax you, as if to tell you this is the right thing. Maybe it was too vague. He took a hand off the wheel as he began soothing more into things. His shoulders finally relaxed as he took a long. Deep breath in. Then out. His fingertips danced along the crotch of your own jeans. Pressing the pad of his middle against your extremely clothed clit, muscle memory of where he knew it was.
He knew.
It was that touch that made your legs wanna buckle. Your cunt clench.
Your palm soothed up his thigh as he focused on the road. Eyes adjusting, focusing. While his cock focused all by himself. Finally your smaller hand went to the tent in his jeans. Taking your pointer and tracing a line up the curve of the bulge. Wooing a twitch from him. His finger pushed harder into your clothed heat. Rewarding him in your first gasp of the night.
“Jesus, baby. Soon enough I’ll be the one with the broken nose.”
A jest like that was hard to process currently.
“What do you mean-?”
Joel takes his hand away from between your legs just for a second to turn the radio on. Very very low, some old 80’s rock song came on. The background noise almost calming.
“Your daddy.” He’d grunt. “If he ever knew I was touchin’ you–”
“I know. My mouth is shut.”
It was a promise. A promise as your palm slipped beneath his belt.
Home sweet home.
Once the front door was closed the exchanges between your mouths were all teeth and tongue. Messy, sloppy. No shortage of drool dribbling down either of your chins. His fingers latching around the hem of your tank top as he pulled it over your head. No bra. Less work for him.
It was like clockwork how his big, rough hands scooped under your thighs to grab you, pick you up with a strained grunt ripping from his chest. He couldn’t remember a time where his cocks been this hard. He could almost completely promise that it’s never been. It was heavy and once his jeans were pulled down it was hanging heavy, loose in his boxers. Though his flannel stayed on. Unbuttoned, fabric framing his tummy and bare, soft chest.
You laid on his bed, splayed upon his blankets like a goddess as you awaited for him to finishing taking his clothes off. But he just couldn’t fuckin’ wait. The sight of you laying there, helpless. Those pretty, lace panties he wanted to rip off with his teeth made his brain turn to mush. He crawled on top of you, leaning down to place a hot kiss on your throat as his hands moved down to your ass.
“Don’t got time to take you over the knee, baby.”
This sentence came with a squeeze to the soft flesh of your ass. Flipping you over belly-down with his fingers tangled in your hair. Face stuffed into the pillow.
His hand came down firm on your lace clad ass. Watching the thickness of the skin ripple.
Again. Harder.
You let out a sharp whine at the feeling. Each left with a stinging buzz that lingered within the plush skin. You were addicted. Though, what was fun for a moment was soon boring for Mister Miller, his cock in a painful state in the confines of his boxers. Feeling like he was gonna burst any good moment now.
But were you ready?
He flipped you back on your back in a sinfully quick motion. One of his practiced, old hands laid flat against your stomach before slipping down beneath the lace of your panties, hooking a finger to the side before pulling them down. They were damp. That just wouldn’t suffice for him. His finger tested the waters, how gluey, slick your folds were. Taking what was currently dripping out of your hole and spreading it around like a glaze.
He dipped his head down into your sternum, his lips pressing firmly against the skin there before he deliberately moved to one of your tits. Brushing the pad of his thumb across the already hard nipple before taking it between his teeth.
“Fuck-! Joel-”
Funny, when you touched yourself you weren’t nearly this loud.
This sensitive.
The tip of his tongue swirled around the bud, it was smooth against his tongue. Warmer than your skin. His hips dug down deep into his own mattress. Mussing the blankets beneath both of your bodies as if they were neat before. He squeezed your other breast with his free hand, continuing his ministries just for another moment. Keeping his moments practiced and planned for the time being. He flicked your unintended, rock-hard bud with his free hand. Mind Numbing stimulation coursing throughout your body.
Your hand came down to paw at his erection straining painfully against the grey cotton of his boxers.
“Oh–”
He groaned, his hips pressing into yours before you could touch more. Clamping himself down so the only way you could feel him throb would be against your thigh.
“You think you’re ready, baby? Ready for my cock?”
Of course the answer was yes. He knew the answer was yes how you were writhing, practically salivating at the thought. Both panting like dogs. He pulled himself out of his boxers. The dim light of the room making it impossible to see was was between your legs. The details left unseen and unsaid as all you could rely on was feel.
You felt his head begin running up and down between your folds. With a girl so fuckin’ wet who needed lubracant. Your eyes squeezed shut as he began to push in.
You’ve never felt anything like it.
Funnily enough. He’s never felt a girl like you either.
“Joel!” You’d squeal. “Fuck, Joel– JoelJoelJoelJoel–”
You were quickly chanting his name under your breath like an invocation. He was big though a three-letter word so simple as big was a fucking understatement. He was stretching out every ounce of your gummy walls. Your head craning backwards into his pillow. His pillow. The scent of his hair, his scent all seeping into your nose mixing with the sensations throughout your body.
“S’fuckin’-- shit, babygirl…”
Joel’s words were slurring together as if he had drank more than those two lousy whiskeys at the bar. Your legs wrapped tight around his waist as you enveloped him. Clenching up every time the tip of his fat cock would graze your cervix. His hand pressed just over your pelvis. Feeling around, ‘til– oh fuck.
“Fuckkkkk… Feel that, baby?” You felt a lot of things right now, your body all too hyper-fixated on the feeling of him to focus on anything other than that. Then Joel took your hand. Trailing it down your stomach as he weakly supported himself with his left arm. Palm flat against the sheets. His bicep tense.
He brought your smaller hand down to your low stomach, feeling the bump there. The bump he was oh-so obsessed with. Jutting out against your palm.
“S’my cock. Yeahhh. He wants you, s’fuckin’ bad.”
He was barely there.
“--So. Fuckin’. Bad.”
He punctuated his words with every thrust. You wanted to call out, say something over and over again like your only fucking prayer. But words defied you in the moment. As soon as you felt the unbearable pressure build up in your gut, the pressure that took over, spilled from your pelvis to your pussy. You felt the wiry hairs that crowned his cock scratching against your clit only adding to the feeling. The feeling that was building and building.
“Joel– I’m gonna–!”
It was so cliché. The need to finish that sentence was gone as you couldn’t control it. Feeling the knot tied so uncomfortably tightly in your pelvis untie. You tried to keep it back, hold it in but it refused. Your hips wriggled against his as your orgasm came ripping through your body. Leaning up as best you could to bury your face in his neck to gasp. Cry out into his ear as much as you well pleased as you felt your legs kick out, your thighs buzz.
His cock curved inside of you, kissing a soft spot that you weren’t even aware you had. His pace slowing, becoming sloppier, rushed. His hips snappy. The way your walls squeezed around him, trying to milk him til’ he was dry. Just wasn’t safe for an old man like him to blue-ball himself like this, huh?
“Fuck- she’s gonna milk daddy dry, ain’t she–?” He was trying to kill you.
With that it was only one more thick, deep thrust into your tight, throbbing cunt where he spilled his cum inside of you. Using what little energy he had left to paint those pretty walls white. Rolling his hips to drive his semen into your pretty little hole. His thumb pushed past your parted lips, your mouth quickly latching on. Cock-drunk, suckling on his thumb to muffle any whimpers. No more cries.
“Atta girl.”
He’d praise. His sweaty, damp body pressing heavily against yours. He didn’t wanna pull out. It’s almost like his body wanted him to stay this way until he was passin’ out. Though, he wouldn't let that happen. He slowly unsheathes his thick cock from your pussy with a wet, squelch as your walls adjust back to normal. Opaque, pearly cum dripping out of your cunt, drooling down your inner thighs all the way to your ass was pornographic.
Reaching around the back of his head to seize a chunk of his greying, soft-to-the-touch curls. Your tongue licking his way into his mouth instead of his thumb.
You felt absolutely and utterly euphoric.
Laying with the blanket lazily draped over both of your bodies. Joel took a long sip from the bottle of alcohol, drinking it like water to refresh his mouth. He felt exasperated. He wouldn’t be able to pin point the last time sex made him feel this good if you were paying him a million bucks. But now he could say with you.
You tucked your face into his neck, taking in the scent of him, the stickiness of his skin. The salty scent of sex still lingering in the air around.
It was silent. Like you were both trying to process what had happened within the last hour- hell, the last three. Even the whole bar thing seemed like an impossible daydream you’d watch on a soap, something that you’d say is unrealistic.
“I was jealous.”
He murmured. Turning his attention back to you as the silence was officially broken. You could’ve figured as much.
“I guess I should be flattered.”
You’d giggle. Real and genuine. Not the fake one you put on for that pervert at the bar.
“I’ve never had a man break another guy’s nose for me before.”
Joel rolled his eyes. Wrapping his warm arms around your body as he pulled you in close. The first time in twenty years his bed wasn’t empty and cold. A warm body tucked right against him, perfectly as if you belonged.
“Don’t get used to it.”
#i wrote all of this half asleep while dying its BAD 😭#anon ask (IMSORRY)#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel tlou#joel miller fanfiction#pedro pascal#pedrohub#pedro pascal smut#pedro pascal fanfic#tlou hbo#joel miller hbo#ao3#one shot#fanfic#smut#the last of us#the last of us hbo#tlou joel#tlou fic#javier peña#narcos#marcus acacius
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DPxDC Hit The Gas
[Written to 'Renegade (We Never Run)' from Arcane]
Technically speaking, Mr. Masters, Gotham's new aspiring crime lord, did provide them with a getaway car. It's just that, in Tim's honest, objective opinion, said car sucks major ass.
First of all, it's white, which is, well, not the best color for disappearing into the night. Then, it's old — not vintage old, thank fuck, but definitely made before 2005 — and long overdue for a makeover. Tim doesn't see a single part of it that doesn't have a scratch or a dent on it, and are those bullet holes on the passenger door?
Eh, whatever, this is a staged escape anyway. Tim doesn't need it to be successful, he only needs an alibi. Someone — their driver, in this case — to later tell Masters that Alvin Draper did everything he could to keep the package safe. So he can stay in the man's moderately good graces even after they get caught by Batman tonight.
Tim makes it to the car first, throws the back door open and slides inside in one motion, slamming it behind him. Jason, the drama queen, jumps in through the open window and into the front passenger seat.
"Hit the gas, they are on our heels!" He yells at the driver, struggling to turn himself over and put his ass in the seat. Serves him right, opening the door and getting in the normal way would have taken literally two seconds.
The car jolts into movement without a moment of hesitation — so at least the driver has a good reaction time — but Tim still hears a dull sound of a betarang hitting the rear end of it. Nice throw, Cass!
It's only then that he cares to actually look around and realize a few things. A few, arguably, very important things. Like the fact that their driver is a redhead girl who looks barely sixteen. Or that there are two kids, looking no older than ten, in the back seat beside him.
He blinks and stares. The kids — both boys, one of them white as milk with a dark mop of hair and the other one black, wearing glasses and a red beanie — pay no mind to either him, Jason in the front seat, or the speed the car is going at. In fact, they pay no attention to the outside world as a whole, hunched over an outdated PSP. They are playing it together, one of the kids in charge of action buttons and the other one controlling the D-pad, so Tim can understand the need to focus: it takes some impressive teamwork to sucessfully go through the game like that. And they are using some complicated combos while at it, wow.
Wait, no, this is such a wrong time to marvel at videogame skills! They are kids, in a car, in a getaway car, in the middle of a car chase with the fucking Batman!
They take a sharp turn, and Tim grabs onto the handle in order to not bump into the door.
"Oh, you didn't tell me we're racing with the Batmobile," the redhead girl says, but it sounds surprisingly nice and polite, like she's merely asking about the weather.
"Yeah, well, we didn't expect that kind of trouble either," Jason snaps back, scrunching his nose, but the girl just laughs softly.
"No, don't worry. It's no trouble," she assures almost gently, and then reaches one hand behind the seat without looking, tapping the black boy on the knee, "Tucker, sweetheart, switch with me?"
Hold on, what?..
"But Ja-a-azz," the white boy whines.
"We've just got to the boss fight," Tucker pouts, but the redhead just taps his knee more insistently.
"And I'm sure you'll get to it again after we make it out," she says, still perfectly polite and collected. Tim glances out the window. Either this girl has nerves of steel or there's something very wrong with both her and the kids; they are going at least 95 mph, and she keeps only one hand on the wheel like it's nothing.
"Ugh, fine," the kid rolls his eyes and nudges his friend in the shoulder, passing him the console, "Save it, I'll get the cord."
"What cord?" Tim asks because he thought this was a simple undercover mission, but now he gets a sneaking suspicion there's a lot more to it than it looked.
Tucker, with one hand under the driver's seat and searching for something blindly, turns to glare at him.
"The control-cord," he answers like the dumb one here is Tim, "How else do you think- A-ha!" His face lights up as he emerges victorious from under the seat, holding... Yeah, a cord, okay. Which he plugs into the PSP that the other boy hands him without prompting.
"Maybe fasten your seat belts, this is about to get interesting," Jazz offers, but doesn't do so herself. Neither of the kids do it either, and Jason just snorts dismissively.
"You're saying it wasn't 'interesting' before?" There's definitely some teasing in his voice. Tim looks down to the package in his lap, a metal box holding some unknown but evidently very important content.
He fastens his seat belt just in time. The car jerks and speeds up — they are definitely past 110 now. And Jazz is not holding the wheel.
It only takes a moment for Tim to connect the dots and look to the PSP in Tucker's hands. Sure enough, instead of a game, his screen is now a perfect replica of the car's windshield in real time, and his fingers are firmly placed on controls. Like he's done it hundreds of times.
They are racing the Batmobile, and a ten-year-old is driving. This mission is fucking wild.
"Brakes, brakes, BRAKES!" Jason yells from the front, and Tim only gets a moment to notice the quickly approaching back of a truck in front of them and realize they are going to crash before their car just goes through it with no resistance. He even looks in the back window to make sure he didn't hallucinate the truck, but no, it's still there and still real.
Did they... Phase through it?..
"What the fuck," he mutters under his breath.
"Language, there are kids in the car," Jazz chides him with a huff of laughter, and then there's a click.
"What the f- fudge," Jason repeats the question, albeit much louder and way more alarmed than Tim before.
When he turns back around, the redhead is holding a grenade launcher. It doesn't look like a model Tim is familiar with, but it's for some reason painted white, just like their car. Is that some kind of Masters' thing?
Wait, that's a grenade launcher.
Jazz ties her hair in the back in less than two seconds and then reaches up to the roof of the car, pressing a button to open the sunroof.
"Wait, you can't shoot a vigilante, they'll-" Tim yells over the wind, but Jazz just smiles at him and stands up on the driver's seat, peeking out and taking position. Tim throws a panicked look at Jason — they sure didn't plan for anything like this. The car chase was supposed to be over in less than a few minutes, none of them thought that Masters, a fairly new figure in the Gotham underground, would have a kind of vehicle that can phase through things and drive at- at 150 mph through the city roads! Not to mention some strange fucking kids and a teenage with grenades!
"She won't kill anyone," a voice comes from Tim's side, and when he turns his head, he finds the other kid, the one he doesn't know the name of, looking at him, his eyes calm and unblinking. And slightly glowing, okay, and here he was, thinking this clusterfuck of a ride can't get any weirder.
"How do you know?" Tim snaps because there's only so much he can deal with at once in the span of five minutes. The kid shrugs.
"It's Jazz. She has morals," he says, like the word disgusts him, and Tucker huffs a laugh.
"You have them, too. Vlad and Dan killed people before, though," he argues, his eyes still glued to the screen of the PSP.
"Not in Gotham," his friend adds, seemingly just for the sake of having the last word in the argument.
Whatever Tim wants to say back gets cut off by a sound of a gunshot. He turns to the back window again, his heart stuck in his throat, but it looks like the white kid was right: the roaring Batmobile is still on their heels. Whatever the redhead tried to do, she missed.
"Danny, on three!" Jazz yells from above, and the kid springs to action like he's been waiting for this moment his whole life.
"One!"
Tucker moves out of the way as Danny climbs over him and towards Tim, unceremoniously shoves the precious metal box away and all but falls into Tim's lap despite his loud yet wordless sounds of protest.
"Two!"
The boy yanks the latch and throws the door open, leaning down while still sprawled over Tim's knees, and Tim grabs the back of his shirt out of reflex. It doesn't matter that the whole thing is a disaster, he's not letting a ten-year-old fall out of the car on his watch.
"Three!"
There's a loud pop somewhere behind them, and the car suddenly turns and drifts sideways, the sound of skidding tires grating on Tim's ears. Yet, he still feels Danny move and sees him reach and touch the ground. There's a short moment of panic — at this kind of speed, the pavement will shave the skin off the boy's hands in seconds — but then there's a shimmer of white bursting from Danny's palms.
When Tim looks up, the road behind them is covered in ice, the smooth surface of it shining in the yellow light of streetlamps. And, a bit further, there's a thick layer of smoke that should definitely hide them from the view of pursuers.
Smoke grenades. And ice powers. That explains the glowing eyes, Danny must be a meta.
The car shifts again, changing directions, and Tim, almost like in slow-mo, sees the metal box that they've gone to such great lengths to steal, slide towards the open door and tip over the edge.
He is still holding Danny's shirt, and the boy is still hanging halfway out of the car.
The seat belt is pressing tightly into his chest.
The box falls out, and Tim shuts his eyes close. Fuck it, he can fail the mission, it's not the end of the world, Jason can still try and weasel his way into Masters' close circle, and Bruce would understand if Tim explains why quickly enough, it's okay, no big deal-
"Gotcha!" Danny yells cheerfully as the car makes a sharp turn and comes to a halt all of a sudden.
Tim opens his eyes.
Danny, a wide, wicked grin on his face, is holding the box in his hands.
"You're a little shit," Tim breathes out, and the boy laughs, wiggling on Tim's lap and trying to get back inside the car.
"Born and raised," he answers with such a shit-eating expression on his face that Tim doesn't even bother holding back his urge for petty revenge. He releases his death grip on the back of Danny's shirt and gleefully watches the brat lose his balance and faceplant the ground.
The 'quick' undercover mission is sure getting an extension, but somehow, he can't bring himself to feel bad about the fact.
#danny phantom#dpxdc#dc x dp#tim drake#batman#jason todd#jasmine fenton#tucker foley#de aged danny#de aged tucker#crime lord vlad#car chase#wow this turned out long#cork prompts#btw that box was empty#it was a test from vlad the grandmastermind#feel free to add on#i didnt come up with anything except this#but hey theres anger management potential!
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Fur-evermore
Fandom: Marvel
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Reynolds x F!Reader
Summary: Because you're Bucky's assistant, you, and your service dog, Juniper, head to the tower to give him some files as well as meet the rest of his new team...including a very cute and slightly awkward, Bob.
A/N: so reader has a service dog, but I didn't go into specifics as to why. also this is like 3k words so yeah. enjoy!
Juniper, or Juni, as you like to affectionally call her, walks by your side as you enter the resident floor of the Avengers Tower. Even though Bucky didn't need you as much as he did when he was a Congressman, your assistance made his life a little easier. You thought yourself to be like a hero for the hero.
"Who are you?" the young blonde woman, you learned to be Yelena, asks as you come into her view.
You stop and politely smile, "Oh, hi! I'm Y/N. Bucky's assistant. I have clearance to be here. I mean, obviously, since I wouldn't be here if I didn't have clearance."
The tall blonde man that you know to be John Walker, frowns, "Why does Bucky get an assistant and we don't?"
Bucky sighs and stands from his spot on the couch, "She was my assistant when I was in Congress and she's generous enough to continue working with me," he approaches you with a friendly smile, "What's up?"
"Well here," you hand him some files, "Are some files Val wanted you all to go through before your mission in two days. Also, Sam says you're not answering his calls or texts."
Bucky winces, "We got into an argument and I need my space. He needs to respect that." He bends down and lets Juni sniff his hand.
Juni looks up at you waiting for your permission. You giggle and say, "Go ahead, Juni."
With her release words, the golden retriever practically pounces on Bucky, causing him to fall onto his back. Bucky's laughing as Juniper smothers him in kisses.
Yelena looks at the sight, confused, "Didn't think he even knew how to laugh."
You snort, "Juni has her way of breaking down people's walls."
"Who's dog is that?" asks another blonde man that comes down the steps.
You look at him and raise your hand, "She's mine! Her name is Juniper, or Juni. My service dog." You pat your leg, "Jun Jun, come."
Juniper immediately leaves Bucky to sit at your feet, "So this is Juniper," you scratch behind her ear, "and I'm Y/N, Bucky's assistant." You look around the room and point out each member, "Yelena, John, Ava, Alexei," and you turn to the man who stands some distance from you, "And you're Bob, right?"
He shyly nods and smiles, "Yeah. That's me. Hi."
"Hi. You all will probably see me and Juni a lot. So don't be alarmed if you see me here at random times. Really all depends on what the old man here," you gesture to Bucky who sits up, "needs from me."
Bucky grunts as he gets to his feet, "I can fire you, you know?"
"But then your life would be in shambles. You need me, old man," you nod to the files in his hands, "Please don't forget to look through those."
He rolls his eyes, "I won't."
You look at each member of Bucky's team, "If you ever need to get a hold of Bucky and he's not answering, feel free to get in contact with me. I know how he likes to ignore his phone." You face him again, "Please talk to Sam."
You shoot a smile at Bob, "Have a good rest of your day, Bob!"
He watches as you and Juniper head to the elevator, "Yeah...you too," he murmurs, eyes stuck on you until the elevator doors close. He turns to Bucky, "She's really nice."
Bucky scoffs, "To you. She's a pain in the ass to me, but she gets the job done. Helps me stay organized. Juniper is a lot of help too when things become too stressful. Have you thought about getting one?"
"What?" Bob asks with a scrunch of his brows.
"A service dog or emotional support dog."
Bob shrugs, "Dunno. Never had a dog growing up. Don't even know if I really like them or if I can even take care of one."
"Well Y/N loves to educate people on service dogs. So if you ever have questions, you can ask her when she's around."
"Yeah. Sure, I'll-I'll do that." he glances back at the elevator before retreating to his recliner near the window.
__________________________
The next time Bob sees you is a day after the team has the mission. Because Bob has buried The Void inside him, he hasn't been much help. So he stays at the tower and does what he can to make everyone's lives a little easier.
This includes make food.
You exit the elevator and are immediately hit with the smell of food. You follow the scent to the kitchen to see Bob pulling out a whole roast out of the oven.
"Smells amazing!" he jolts in surprise and you giggle, "Sorry for scaring you."
He chuckles, "It's fine. Wasn't expecting to see anyone until later." He sets the roast on the counter to rest.
You sit at one of the high chairs, Juniper plotting down beside your feet, "You know how to cook?"
"Been learning since I can't do much else to help. Kind of became the resident cook and cleaner around here, but it's fine."
You nod, "I'm sure they're really grateful for you, Bob."
"Oh yeah, Yelena tells me all the time. Bucky and Ava too, sometimes. Alexei and John don't say it as much, but I can tell they are. But Yelena the most, especially when I experiment on cooking certain dishes. She gets to taste all of them," he smiles brightly and it makes you smile.
"You and Yelena seem very close."
"Oh yeah," he nods, fidgeting with the hem of his hoodie, "She's helped me a lot with my...issues."
"Have you seen a therapist?"
"Yeah. I have sessions with them every other day, but, you know, some days are harder than others."
You give a hum, "Yeah, I know that all too well. I'm lucky to have Juni here to help me on those bad days," you look fondly at your furry companion.
"Yeah...Bucky said I could talk to you about having a service animal?"
Your eyes brighten and you straighten up, "Yes! I'm always willing to educate people and answer questions."
Bob rounds the kitchen island and sits beside you, "I'm just not sure I'm a dog person or if I'm capable of taking care of one. I can barely take care of myself sometimes."
"It's a partnership. You and the animal work together and create a harmonious relationship. Juni helps keep me above water and I provide her the basic necessities and lots of love." At the sound of her name, Juniper sits up and gives Bob a curious sniff.
"You can pet her, if you'd like," you say gently, "When we're out in public is when I need her to be more focused, but I'm more lenient when we're with a few people."
Bob holds out his hand to let Juni sniff him. Her tail wags as she steps toward him. Her cold nose touches Bob's hand as she sniffs him.
She immediately jumps onto her hind legs and rests her head on his lap. You hum, "She senses an uneasiness in you she's trying to help ground you." You slide off your chair, "Here, lay on your back on the floor."
Bob silently follows your orders. He slides off the chair and moves to lay on the floor. His back his pressed against the cold tiles.
Juniper immediately lays a part of her body on top of Bob. The weight and the warmth of her on top of him was comforting. So comforting, he felt himself tearing up.
You softly smile at him, "It's okay to cry, if you need to."
He sniffles, "I'm sorry. I just-"
You shake your head, "You don't have to explain. I know. I'll just sit here with you until you're okay."
So that's how you two stay for a time. Juni on top of Bob, Bob crying and letting himself feel whatever he's feeling, and you, just providing a comfortable silence.
After some time passes and Bob's cries subside, you call Juniper to you. She crawls off Bob and sits beside you, watching as Bob sits up. He wipes at his eyes, "Thank you. I didn't-I don't even know how to-"
"You're welcome," you help each other to your feet, "Is it okay if I hug you?"
"Yeah," he replies and stands there as you wrap your arms around him. He hugs you back, relishing in your comforting warmth and scent.
"You're not alone, Bob," you murmur in his ear.
He chuckles, "Yeah...slowly starting to really get that."
______________________________
You make an effort to see Bob when you were at the tower, whether it was just a quick "Hello" or a little chat as he cooks. You made sure to see him.
You've come to find that Bob was a really sweet and kind person. He had a rough past and wanted to make up for that. That's something he shared with the other Avengers.
So whenever you were around, he also made an effort to offer up his assistance if you needed it. Whether it was to help carry some of your things or even give Juni some water. Bob was always there to help you out too.
Because of that, you two started to grow close. Now it wasn't just Bucky you spent a lot of your time with. It was either Bucky on some days, Bob on other days, or both at the same time.
Bucky didn't mind it though, he understood where Bob was coming from and wanted to help the kid wherever he could. But he couldn't help but tease you when it was just you and him.
"Are you here for me?" he asks with a teasing smirk as he approaches the elevator.
You snort, "Aren't I always?"
He shrugs, "Dunno, you might be here for a certain someone."
You know what he's insinuating, but you don't take the bait, "I mean, yeah, me and Yelena are cool I guess."
Bucky rolls his eyes at you, "Alright, smart ass."
You smirk at him in victory, "Anyway, I scheduled you to have a meeting with a PR rep."
Bucky's face scrunches in confusion, "Why?"
"Because you suck at answering questions. All of those press interviews you've done were painful. You, obviously, need help. But don't worry, everyone else will be there too because Val and her PR team can only do so much."
Bucky groans and crosses his arms over his chest, "When is this?"
You check your watch, "In three hours."
"What if I had plans?"
You scoff, "Please, Bucky, I make your plans. So I know you don't have any."
The brunette walks away grumbling about how much of a pain you are, but you know there isn't any malice behind it. You look down at Juniper, who stares up at you with a smile, her tail wagging.
You chuckle and pat her head, "Let's go see our friend, hm?"
You head up to the second residential floor where everyone's rooms are located. You go down the hall to the very last room where Bob resides. You knock while also pushing in the door, "Hey Robby-oh."
You enter to see Bob shirtless, Yelena hugging him.
The scene looked...intimate.
"Sorry, I-Juni!" Juniper bolts into the room and jumps onto Bob's bed. Usually, she's a lot more behaved, but it seems she's gotten super attached to Bob.
Bob chuckles and pets the golden retriever, "Hiya, Juni girl," he gives her a soft smile.
"Juni, here," you command and she immediately rushes to your side. You clear your throat, "Sorry for interrupting. Just wanted to say hi."
Yelena smiles, "It's fine. We weren't doing anything."
"I'll see ya later, Robby," you give him an awkward nod and Bob just gives you a shy wave.
You and Juni leave, closing the door behind you. You shake your head and murmur to yourself, "I'm so stupid."
______________________
When the door closes, Yelena breaks the silence, "Soooo that was awkward."
Bob looks at his friend with pleading eyes, "I just-you see why I'm not good enough? She's so beautiful and kind and smart and...I'm a mess. I'm broken-"
Yelena shakes her head, "Hey. No, we don't go there, remember? And broken things can be fixed...sometimes. You're working on yourself and that's good. If Y/N can't see that, then you shouldn't be with someone like her. But I do think she likes you too."
Bob looks at her with wide eyes, "You think?"
"I'm very perceptive. I saw her look sad when she saw us hugging. You know what that means?" Bob shakes his head and Yelena answers, "She thinks we're a thing, which means she's jealous. Which means, she has feelings for you." She does a mindblown gesture and it causes Bob to snort.
He lets out a deep breath and scratches his chest, "And if she doesn't like me back?"
Yelena shrugs, "I don't think that'll happen, but, if, somehow, she doesn't like you back, then you move on. That's the only thing you can do." She gives Bob a pat on the shoulder and heads out, leaving Bob to think about what she's said.
__________________
You avoid Bob for the next few days after walking in on him and Yelena. You hate to admit how much it hurt to see him with her like that. You thought you two were getting closer, and maybe he even liked you. But, of course, you didn't stand a chance against someone as cool and as beautiful as Yelena Belova.
You were a little sad and insecure, so you did your best to continue to do your job while also trying to avoid the tower as much as possible.
Bucky caught on though, noticed you weren't coming by. So, after Bob asked for you, he decided to ask for you to come by the tower. He tried to make it seem like it was urgent, so you and Juni came storming onto the residential floor looking distressed.
"What's wrong? Are you okay?" you ask as you approach a waiting Bucky.
"I'm fine, but I wanted to know if you're okay."
You shuffle your weight from one leg to another, "Yeah. Why?"
He shrugs, "Just noticed you haven't been around for the past few days...and Bob has been asking about you."
"He has my number."
"He wants to talk to you in person."
"Why?"
"I don't know, but, whatever happened, he wants to talk to you, Y/N. Take it from me, ignoring your issues won't make them go away."
You groan, "I don't-"
"Y/N?" you freeze when you see Bob on the stairs.
Juniper barks and you let her run to him. She jumps at him and he chuckles, "Hiya, girl."
You look at Bucky with pleading eyes, "Don't you-"
"I'll leave you to it," he gives you a wink and walks back upstairs, giving Juni a pat and Bob a nod.
You internally groan and slowly walk over to the base of the stairs where Bob sat, petting Juniper.
"Hi," you say shyly and he looks up at you, "Hi."
"So...you've been asking for me?"
"Well, you haven't been around. Wanted to see if you were okay."
"You could've just texted me."
"Yeah, well...I wanted to see you...to talk to you."
You sit beside him on the stairs, "I'm here so...what's up?" You avoid looking at him by petting Juni.
"I really don't know how else to say it and I'm not good at this stuff. But...I like you, Y/N. A lot. And, I know I've got my issues, but I promise I'm working on them. And I don't think I'd make the best partner or boyfriend or whatever, but I'm willing to try things out. With you," he clarifies at the end.
You're looking at him, eyes searching for any hint that he's lying or playing some prank on you.
You finally find the words to speak, "I thought you and Yelena-"
"We're just friends. That day you came into my room to see me, I was having a bit of a breakdown. She was helping talk me through it."
"I like you too," you say softly, "When I saw you with Yelena, I thought...yeah. So I did the cowardly thing and avoided coming here because I didn't want to potentially see you and her together."
Bob reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours, "I get it. It's okay. Feelings are...scary."
You chuckle, "So scary."
"So? Do you think we can try this out? I can't guarantee I won't mess things up-"
"It's okay," you whisper, cupping his face with your free hand, "I wanna try things out with you, Robby. As long as we both stay on top of communicating how we're feeling and what's going on in our heads, I think we'll be okay."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," you reply in a whisper, leaning in closer and closer that yours-
"AH! Young love!" Alexei exclaims as he and Yelena exit the elevator, "So beautiful and lovey! Congrats you two!"
"Dad, shut up!" Yelena scolds her father, "Sorry! Carry on!" She pushes her father back into the elevator to bring him somewhere else.
Bob chuckles, "Well that was-"
His words are interrupted as you grab his face and kiss him. He's taken by surprise, but kisses you back. It's a little awkward, but also endearing.
He doesn't know what to do with his hands until he just settles with holding your face instead.
You pull away with a smile and take in the hazy look that Bob's has in his eyes.
"Woah," he says and you laugh, and it's one of the most beautiful things he's ever heard.
You scoot away to give him some room to breathe, "So, um, do you wanna go on a walk around the city with me and Juni?"
"Yeah. Absolutely." He stands up first, helping you to your feet. You hand him Juni's leash and she sits at his feet while he attaches it to her collar.
He holds out his hand to you and you take it, both of you walking out of there with a buzzing sensation around you two.
#bob reynolds#bob reynolds x reader#robert bob reynolds#robert bob reynolds x reader#bob reynolds imagine#thunderbolts#thunderbolts imagine
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A coven of very stereotypical witches? You know, eating little children to stay young and all. They are very feared by many magicians.
But Captain Marvel? What would he be afraid of? They love him!
One day, a great threat is there and JL is fighting, Cap has fallen into a trap and is now suffering too, but he uses one last drop of his energy to send out a call for help.
Suddenly, the environment changes. It becomes cold, deathly cold and silent.
The coven begins to appear, in the shadows, like monsters with dark expressions, their arms covered in dark magical markings.
Everyone stares, paralyzed in shock as the coven encases the thread and together, they release Marvel and make a circle to do a ritual, with their combined energy they manage to send the thread to pieces.
Later, Marvel explains that said coven that many people feared are very nice ladies who constantly make offerings to him in an ask to absorb some magical energy to stay young. And so they don't have to kill little kids anymore either
They see a scene where a very grumpy scary woman turns all smiles as she makes Marvel lower his head so she can pet him like a little kid
Witch 1: Wow, I'm glad we made it in time! It's good to see you, it's good to see you!!
Witch 2: We missed you so much, kid! Let me pinch those cheeks!!!
And then they watch as Marvel still bends over so the witch can pinch his cheeks
Marvel: Ladies, please… my friends are watching
Witch 1: Oh, don't be like that, we're just showing some love to our favorite demigod.
Witch 3: Were they the reason you've been so distant lately? You barely show up anymore.
Witch 2: Klarion is a little sad. You canceled your play date again…
Witch 1: We know he doesn't show it much, but he really appreciates it when you show up to share magical knowledge with him
Marvel: ah, i know. hey, how about we meet up later today to catch up? I just need to help with the clean-up--
Witch 3: I'm sure those heroes can handle it themselves, honey. --right?
And she gives the League a dirty, dirty look, who are watching in silence
Superman: Sur-- sure! Go ahead, Marvel, we'll take over from here, you've already done most of the work
Marvel: Ooh, sweet! Thank you, mister Superman! And League too! Bye, bye
And they left after heading straight for a dark corner, right behind the wall
The cold, deathly vibes went with them
Dr. Fate: Where are they talking about Klarion the witchboy…?
Zanatta: I don't know, I'm a little lost…
Wonder Woman with a big smile: I'm happy to see my little brother with such a lovely family! And so full of women. I knew that he, being so polite, must have come from a female environment
Superman: Is that what you pick up from the interaction?
Wonder Woman: Sure they look a little dangerous, but that just shows strength! I know Marvel wouldn't tolerate anything evil. Dangerous, sure, but not evil
Batman: Hmp. (I agreed)
Dr. Fate with his brain turning to goo: Klarion… is he a playmate with Klarion…?
John Constantine, who knows how much Billy is a big magnet for dangerous people and creatures: Don't think too much about it, mate, it only gets worse
#billy batson#headcanon#batman#shazam#dc#captain marvel#dc captain marvel#bruce wayne#superman#clark kent#wonder woman#john constantine#dr fate#zatanna#klarion the witch boy#dc klarion
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SHAMELESS
Summary: You are moving into the Leister mansion after tragically losing your father in a plane crash. He worked for William Leister, who immediately offered to take you in. The problem? His son, Nick Leister, who is far from pleased about having a stranger living under his roof.
Author's Note: My slight fixation on Matthew Broome led me to create this fanfic, but I can’t guarantee it will be good. So, dear reader, if you enjoy it, please interact and comment. The fanfic will likely contain strong language, violence, and adult content. Minors should not engage with it.
two
ONE
It's like a fairy tale—a young, poor woman turning into the new Cinderella. At least, that's what the media is saying. But that’s not exactly what’s happening in your life.
Your father spent his life working for William Leister. During a business trip, the plane he was on crashed, leaving no survivors. You had just started college and taken a part-time job to help your father pay the tuition. And now, you don’t even know what to do.
Well, actually, you do. You’re packing your bags to move in with your father’s former boss. He feels guilty, even if he won’t admit it, and decided to invite you to live with him and his son. So now, you’re leaving the house you grew up in to step into what the internet is calling a princess’s life.
They even sent a car to pick you up, which feels quite fancy. You still can’t believe the size of the place you’ll be living in—in fact, you feel almost out of place.
"I hope you had a pleasant trip," William says, embracing you gently. His staff carries your bags inside the mansion.
"It was smooth," you reply, following William inside his home. "With all due respect, sir, your house—or rather, your mansion—is truly enchanting," you say, marveling at everything around you.
"There’s no need to call me ‘sir.’ Just William is fine. Now, my house is quite large, and unfortunately, I’m running late for a charity event. It won’t take long, but I’m sure Nick will show you around," Mr. Leister says as he adjusts his suit and tie.
You feel a bit uneasy about relying on his son, but you nod in agreement and watch as he leaves the mansion, a bouquet of flowers in his hands—probably for a date.
"Are you planning to just stand by the door?" A male voice speaks from behind you. Surprised, you turn around.
"Not at all, but I fail to see how that’s any of your concern," you reply, still standing in place. It might have sounded rude, but he doesn’t seem too pleased either.
"Some might say that since you’re in my house, you could be a bit more polite," Nick says as he descends the stairs, his gaze fixed on you.
"If this is your way of saying you want me gone, you don’t have to say it twice," you retort, turning to grab your suitcase and leave. It might be a bit drastic, but you’re not about to be humiliated by some rich boy.
Before you can go upstairs to get your bags, however, Nick catches your arm—not forcefully, despite his muscular build, but just enough to stop you. The closeness between you is enough for you to catch the scent of his cologne. He, however, is clearly staring at your lips.
"You’re a guest of my father. It wouldn’t be right for me to make you leave. If anyone should leave, it’s me," Nick says, his eyes studying you, while you’re too focused on the proximity between you to say anything.
"Perhaps we should try not to get on each other’s nerves… at least for a while," you whisper, leaning in slightly. The tension is palpable, as if the two of you are trying to read each other through your gaze.
"We’ll see what the future holds," Nick replies before finishing his descent. "Oh, in case my father didn’t mention it, I don’t usually stay here overnight," he adds with a smirk, leaving you wondering what you’re supposed to do alone in this place.
"And I’m supposed to stay here all by myself?" you ask, surprised—or maybe indignant. Not that you need a babysitter, but you don’t even know where anything is.
"If you’d rather, you can come with me. But preferably, I think you’ll want to stay here—it’s safer," he says, sounding like some secret agent or mobster.
"I suppose I’ll have to go just to see how much danger I can handle," you reply, stepping closer and looking him in the eye, your faces mere inches apart.
"If you say so," he mutters, feigning disinterest.
"Your father said you’d show me the mansion," you remind him. You’re certain he won’t want to, but you can at least try.
"I think you’ll manage to find your way around. But if you do get lost, you can call my name—whether I answer or not, we’ll see," he says smugly before walking away, leaving you standing there.
#nick leister#nick leister x reader#female reader#reader insert#my fault london#matthew broome#matthew broome x reader#matthew broome character#matthew broome as nick leister#william#anna#jenna#lion#ronnie#Spotify
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Teach Me How To Love - Part 2



jeon jungkook, a fellow professor at yonsei university, is your friend, co-worker, and secret bed buddy. you have rules set in place to make sure there are no misunderstandings in your little arrangement. the #1 rule is as clear as day; no catching feelings. simple, right? wrong. let's see how un-simple it gets when a certain economics professor falls for an emotionally unavailable political science professor.
pairing: professor!jungkook x (fem) professor!reader, fwb to lovers
genre: fluff, angst, smut, fwb au, economicsprofessor!jungkook, politicalscienceprofessor!reader, slow burn, some emotional constipation, some sappy moments, lots of sexy moments.
rating: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT !
w/c: 2.7k
warnings: we meet jk's friends and tae makes his first appearance (we'll be seeing a lot more of him in future), oc is sick with a cold, jk is a simp and drops everything to make her feel better, lots of fluff, nothing explicit in this one, we find out some more of oc's rules, SATC mentioned, some marvel talk, talk of jk having a nice ass, mostly just lots of soft feels in this one <3
a/n: i'm so happy to see the amount of love part 1 got !!! part 2 is a bit shorter, but i think it's important to see their dynamic outside of the whole fwb thing. i'm aiming for the upcoming parts to be longer, i promise. i hope you enjoy all the feels in this one, and don't be shy to send me your feedback 🫶🏼💋
find tmhtl masterlist here
find tmhtl playlist here

Jungkook sits at a table in a rather fancy restaurant, half-listening to his friends as they joke about something over dinner. They've been meaning to get together for a while but they've all been so busy with work and their personal lives that it just never worked out until tonight. Well, it worked out tonight because Taehyung practically forced everyone to come.
"Yo, earth to Jungkook."
He looks over at Jimin with raised eyebrows, realizing he was caught staring at his phone in his lap. He knows he should be paying attention to the conversation happening around him, and he knows that it's rude to be on his phone while he's in company, but he hasn't heard from you all day and usually you would've exchanged words (or funny memes) by now.
It's not that he MUST speak to you all day, every day to survive, but it just happens. If he sees a funny video of a cat on TikTok, he sends it to you. If you forgot how to do something on Excel, you text him and he replies within two minutes to explain how to do it. Sometimes he even goes through the trouble of doing it himself, screen recording it and sending it to you to give you a step-by-step guide. That's just how it goes with the two of you.
"Huh? Sorry, what were you saying?"
"I was just asking if there's a special someone in your life," Jimin says with a little grin, resting his chin in the palm of his hand.
"Actually, what he asked was if you're still on track to die alone," Namjoon quips, Jimin waving him off with a little "eh, same thing".
Jungkook rolls his eyes, flatly denying any romantic relations. It's not like he's lying. He just can't say that he might have started developing feelings for the woman he's casually sleeping with, so he just settles on, "Naah, I'm too busy with work." It's easier.
They know their friend is a terrible liar, but they also know that he would tell them if he really wanted to, so they don't pry. They've heard your name once or twice in passing, a little comment here and there like '___ likes that movie' or '___ uses this perfume'. As far as they know, you're his work friend. That's it. Even Taehyung doesn't know much about you, and he works at the same university as an English Literature lecturer, which brings us to rule #2.
Rule #2: It stays between us. It's just less complicated if less people know, and Jungkook knows that if his friends knew about it, they'd be pestering him about you all night and he doesn't need that right now, especially when his eyes drift back down to his phone and there's still no text from you.

You're in bed, surrounded by snotty tissues and a sleeping Miso, who really couldn't care less that you just underwent a violent coughing fit. You're about to doze off, when your phone buzzes on the nightstand. You check the notification, and when you see who it's from, you swear you feel your heart rate rise, but maybe it's just from all the coughing.
prof jeon |7:50pm]: hey, you. prof jeon 17:50pm]: haven't heard from you all day... prof jeon [7:51pm]: are you mad at me bc i said sex in the city was boring??? 👀😭😭
You [7:51pm]: first of all, it's sex AND the city 💀 You [7:52pm]: and it's not boring, you're just a nerd who can't watch anything other than marvel
He laughs, knowing he should've expected that response. Your next message comes through shortly after.
You [7:53pm]: sorry for the radio silence You [7:53pm]: i have a nasty cold 😵💫 You [7:53pm]: feel like i was hit by a bus You [7:53pm]: took some cough drops and slept for most of the day
He really shouldn't feel the need to immediately rush to your aid, but he does.
prof jeon [7:53pm]: want me to come over?
You [7:54pm]: you don't have to do that, kook You [7:54pm]: i don't wanna get my germs all over you 😕
prof jeon [7:54pm]: don't be silly prof jeon [7:54pm]: i’ve had your bodily fluids on me before, who cares about a little snot 😂😂😂 prof jeon [7:55pm]: i can be there in a little bit
You [7:56pm]: you're gross 🙄 You [7:56pm]: and really nice
prof jeon [7:56pm]: see you in a bit x
He excuses himself from dinner with the excuse of a family emergency and promises his friends to hang out again soon. He grabs his coat and heads out to his car, making a stop at your favourite Vietnamese restaurant for some pho before driving over to your place.

You unlocked the door to your apartment and dragged yourself back to bed as soon as he texted you to let you know he's on his way up. You hear the door open and in walks Jungkook, looking very handsome you might add.
"You're dressed awfully fancy to take care of my cold," you tease with a little smile, your eyes drifting down to the plastic bag in his hand, a bag you know all too well due to countless trips to that specific Vietnamese restaurant. "And you brought food?"
He smiles as he removes his coat and walks over to the side of your bed, placing the pho on your nightstand before sitting down on the edge of the bed, clearly not bothered by the array of tissues scattered around the duvet. Miso sees him and gets up from her spot on the bed, sauntering off to the living room, almost as if she knows her mom is about to get folded like a pretzel again. But Jungkook's not here for that tonight.
"I was actually out at dinner with some friends when I texted you. And I thought you might've been too lazy to get up and actually eat dinner, so I brought soup."
The thought of him dropping his plans with his friends just to come over and take care of you fills you with a warm, fuzzy feeling. Maybe it's just your high temperature. Maybe it's the fact that he's just so kind to you. Whatever the reason may be, you're too sick and weak to fight the soft smile tugging at your lips.
"Thank you, Jungkook."
"Don't thank me. I just didn't want you to drown in your own mucus."
Your laugh makes his heart feel funny, even if it barely managed to escape your sore throat.
He opens the lid of the steaming hot pho and holds a spoonful to your lips. If you were your usual healthy self, you would've told him that you're fully capable of feeding yourself, but you're sick and vulnerable and he has that soft look in his eyes, so you let him feed you the soup. It's warm and a little spicy, and it instantly makes you feel better as it slides down your throat. It's just that good. That, and the fact that he bought it for you and drove all this way to feed it to you.
He makes sure you take any necessary medication and even helps you flip over to lay on your stomach so that he can rub some VapoRub on your back, his hands giving you the comfort you didn't know you so desperately needed.
You aren't used to being taken care of by such a gentle man. He blows on your soup for you so that you don't burn your tongue. He wets a cloth with cold water and lays it on your forehead to bring down your temperature. He touches you like you're some delicate porcelain that could break at any moment. When he lays down with you and runs his fingers through your hair, you don't fight it. When he presses a soft kiss to your cheek, you don't protest like you normally would because rule #3 is 'no kissing outside of sex' but you don't even care right now. You let him take care of you when you normally wouldn't. You allow yourself to be taken care of because it feels too good to overthink.
Jungkook feels a bit selfish for relishing in your current state because it allows him to care for you in your time of need. He would do it for any of his friends because that's the type of person he is, but this is different. This is you, and he would drive for hours and hours to get to you if you ever needed him. He would put everything on hold to be there for you. Hell, he would run into a burning building if you were in there. Because it's you.
He props his head up on his elbow and looks down at you, taking in your fevery flushed cheeks, your heavy-lidded eyes, your stuffy nose, and he thinks that no other woman will ever be as beautiful to him as you. He's not Taehyung. He doesn't teach literature and he doesn't have the best way with words, but he could spend hours writing poetry about the sound of your laugh or how animated you get when you're really passionate about something. He could sit and watch paint dry all day if you sat by his side and did it with him.

Jungkook takes the tv remote from the nightstand to turn on Sex and The City, clicking on a random episode from season 6 and getting comfortable next to you.
"What happened to Sex and The City being boring, hm?" you chuckle, giving him a teasingly pointed look.
"What, you want me to turn it off?"
"No, I just thought you didn't like it."
"But you like it."
You turn your attention back to the tv as a smile threatens to break out on your face, your head turned so that he doesn't see how much that simple response affected you.
He barely remembers the characters' names or much of the plot, but you enjoy the show, so he watches it with you, making comments here and there and even asking questions just so he can listen to your voice as you explain why Carrie Bradshaw does what she does. He mentally pats himself on the back for getting through a good handful of episodes before inevitably getting bored.
When you get up to go to the bathroom, he just can't help himself and turns on one of the Avengers movies, offering you a sheepish grin when you come back and see what's on your tv.
You roll your eyes and get back in bed, watching Iron Man perform a monologue for the millionth time. "Captain America's better."
He gives you a look like you just killed his dog or something, and you already know what's coming.
"Are you insane?! Iron Man is so obviously the best Avenger, ___."
"He doesn't look like Captain America, though."
"He doesn't have to," he scoffs, looking back at the tv. "He's got that whole rich CEO thing going for him. Plus, he's like, a genius."
"Nerds defending nerds, I guess," you tease with a faint smile.
He grins, a hint of smugness in his expression. "Are you saying I'm like Iron Man? Because if you are, that's a huge compliment."
"Iron Man's a bit more of a bad boy," you chuckle, narrowing your eyes at him as you try to think of who he resembles in the Avengers. "You're more...boy next door, kinda like Spider Man."
"Wha- excuse me, I can be a bad boy too if I want," he quips, trying to sound offended, but when you mention Spider Man, it kinda makes up for it. "I guess I'll take Spider Man. I do have a nice ass."
You laugh, giving him a puzzled look. "Who said anything about Spider Man's ass?"
"He's, like, known for having a great ass. Have you seen him in his suit?"
"So, that's it? That's why you'd make a good superhero? Because you have a nice ass?"
"Well...not just my ass. I'd make a great superhero because...y'know...great power, great responsibility and all that other stuff."
You scoff, shrugging like you can't argue with that.
He's quiet for a while, a full-blown fight scene playing out on the tv, his mind starting to wander a bit.
"You'd be Black Widow. You've got that badass, independent woman vibe," he murmurs, looking over at you with a soft smile.
"You think so?"
"Oh yeah. You're smart, confident, you don't take crap from anyone. Plus, you'd look really hot in the tight outfit." He just can't help himself.
You roll your eyes, softly swatting his bicep. "Of course that's what you think of."
He chuckles, shrugging his shoulders, feigning innocence. "Hey, what can I say? I'm a man, I like what I like."
And I like you. He can't say it out loud, but acknowledging it is enough for now, and when the cough syrup starts taking effect and your eyes slowly start to droop, he feels content with just having your head on his chest.
His phone buzzes and he pulls it out of his pocket to see a text from Taehyung, and your eyes are barely open when they land on the screen. You didn't even mean to look, it was kinda just an instinctive thing, but you're not interested in his private texts from his friends. What catches your eye is the photo on his lock screen. It's a photo of the two of you from a year ago, both of you making silly faces at the camera. It's a cute photo. If anyone else were to see it, they'd think you're a couple.
“I didn't know that’s your lock screen,” you mumble, your voice a lot sleepier than it was an hour ago.
“Are you snooping?” he teases with a little scoff.
“I didn't mean to look, your phone is kinda in my face from this angle,” you murmur through a soft chuckle, looking down at the photo.
“I like this photo of us.” He smiles when you tap the screen after it goes black, wanting to get another look.
“Coulda used one that I actually look pretty in,” you murmur jokingly, and as the cough syrup drains the last of your consciousness, the last thing you hear is a soft, “But you’re always pretty, ___.”

The next morning, you wake up feeling a little bit disorientated after taking all that cold medicine, blinking a few times to clear your vision. You slowly sit up in bed and check your phone, seeing that it's 10am. You almost think you overslept for work, but you realize it's Sunday. You think back to the night before, the way Jungkook came over and fed you soup, the way he gently put VapoRub on your back and made sure you were well taken care of. You turn your head to find Miso in the spot that Jungkook was in last night, and you would feel disappointed that he’s not there anymore if Miso weren't so damn cute. It's not like you expected him to still be here this morning. After all, staying the night is another boundary you don't cross, and he respects that, which explains why he left a little while after you fell asleep.
You feel that fuzzy feeling in your chest again when you take a better look at what's on your nightstand. Your water bottle stands tall, which Jungkook filled before he left last night, along with a little note from one of the notebooks on your desk.
The note says, 'Hope you're feeling a bit better. Get lots of rest and drink your fluids. Don't worry about falling asleep, Miso made sure I saw myself out. Hope to see you at work tomorrow xx'
You read the note again, and then again. It's simple but thoughtful. He didn't have to write a note. He didn't have to come over last night to tend to your illness, but he did, and you aren't surprised because he's him. That's just what he does.
You think about last night until you have to consciously stop yourself from smiling so much because your cheeks feel a bit stiff. You grab your phone from the nightstand and scroll to his contact, your fingers quickly sliding across the keyboard.
You [10:23am]: thank you for coming over last night, kook You [10:23am]: i owe you fr
prof jeon [10:25am]: you really don't 🙄 prof jeon [10:25am]: i just wanted to be there for you prof jeon [10:26am]: it's what spider man would've done 👀
You [10:26am]: 👁️👄👁️ You [10:26am]: nerd

< Part 1 || Part 3 >

#jungkook smut#jungkook angst#jungkook fluff#jungkook x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#jungkook imagines#bts imagines#jungkook scenarios#bts jungkook#bts fluff#bts angst#bts smut#bts x reader#fic: tmhtl#kookooluvr
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A Morning Between King Nicholas and His Queen - A Sequel to « Of Love, Lust and Wasted Time »
Summary : what does a morning between Nicholas and his lovely wife look like ? Sex. A lot of it, obviously. porn with like some kind of plot but who are we kidding really.
Pairing : King!Nicholas Alexander Chavez X Queen!Reader
Warning : 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI, smut, p in v, fluff, size kink, slight breeding kink, cockwarming, morning sex, slight cum play, biting, lots of I love you, slightly mean!reader/spoiled!reader (she needs her sleep, nick needs her)
A/N : i have no decorum so I wanted to add this because why not so this is just filth. Also, you can find the ‘first part’ here :)
_______________________________________________
It was morning such as these ones that reminded Nicholas that he had grown to be a rather complicated man in terms of where he could find his happiness. Because no matter what, to wake up in his bed, in the arms of his beloved, skin on skin, warmed by morning rays of sunlight, this was a pleasure he could only find here, in his home, with her.
Duty had required his presence abroad for days now and she had to stay and rule alone in his absence. It had been the first time they were separated since their marriage and both had to suffer without the other. To see her at the door, last night, as soon as he returned, his heart could thump of joy alone.
Wrapping himself around her frame, he felt every muscle of his body relax against her, finally feeling himself ease down from days of political conversations and trades. He laid on top of her, covering her whole while his arms crossed under her. His hands were tight around her waist, pulling her so close they could’ve merged together if possible. He wondered if she was uncomfortable, the look of contentment on her face enough of an answer for him. Her own hands were draped over his back, the pad of her fingers soft against his skin.
This was it, true Love like he had learned existed as soon as he had met her.
With his face nuzzled into her breasts, he inhaled deeply, enjoying being wrapped in her scent all over. Rubbing the tip of his nose along her mound, he kissed that very same spot with a grin. Was it human to be so happy ? Was it human to love so much ? To love a human with such ease and so naturally ? Some days, he looked at her and felt nauseated from not being able to surrender every second of his remaining time alive to her every wish.
Breathing in her heat, his fingers grazed her sides up and down.
Rubbing the sleep off of his face with one hand while his other arm held her close, his lips found themselves kissing and biting the corner of her jaw tenderly while she whined in her sleep from being moved off of her preferred position.
« Nicholas… » She groaned in a voice so sweet it traveled through every pore of his body and infiltrated her bloodstream.
Looking up to meet her narrowed eyes to avoid the sunlight. Oh, how marvelous she was, his girl. The love of his life.
« I love you… » He whispered dreamily. His mind was trained on her face and how delicious she tasted whenever his lips found her body. He kept going, from her neck to her bosom, all he could reach, before dropping his body on her again.
After their first night, Nicholas had been glad to find out that his large stature made for an excellent mattress for his wife. She loved nothing more than to cover herself of him or lay on top of him. By the time she could feel him on her whole being, she was satisfied.
« Settle down, my love…» He muttered as he moved them both again to be on his side but still, half his body covering her in a makeshift cocoon.
The princess squirmed a little to position herself correctly. Her legs wrapped around one of his, her arm draped over his side while the other was kept close to her chest. She kept close to him, whining until he moved his face to lay on hers. Yes, this was perfect.
He could only chuckle, amused by her demands to be comfortable. But he lived to serve and please her, even in her sleep. So much so in fact that when his hard cock grazed the inside of her thighs, pushing against her flesh and taking up space between them both, his grin widened.
Yes, King Nicholas would still enjoy a little more sleep. And like his wife, he would need certain adjustments to be comfortable, starting with her gapping pussy, still dripping of his load from the night before. He could see it between her legs, thick and sticky, what a vision.
He moved her body slightly, nudging between her legs to part them with a smile and a kiss to her lips. He hiked her leg up to his waist, and her reaction was almost instantaneous. In a matter of seconds, there she was, looking up at him with her big beautiful eyes, less than amused.
« Must you have me twice a day ? » She asked, blinking away the sleep which had been taken from her.
« If I have to be honest, twice a day is nearly not… enough » His response was punctuated by movements, attempting not to cum as soon as his tip pushed past her folds. « Remember, an heir is expected of us, sweetness. We must be hard at work on this, it is of the greatest importance. »
They both could’ve laughed. Becoming parents was important, the gender of said heir, less, and the moment they would come even less. But Nicholas couldn’t hide that he enjoyed working to bring said heir as quickly as possible. Less for the baby and more for the pleasure of fucking his lovely wife. And that he did, in various positions and rooms of the castle. It was as if he had found a source and from then on his thirst could only be quenched by the water of that very fountain. She was but Life itself to her lord husband, the only thing he would ever need. Even so early in the morning.
After all, what was decorum if not rules that a king simply could not be bothered with ?
Nicholas rubbed his face close to hers, kissing away the pout on her face with a smile. The domestic bliss he’d been enjoying could simply not be replicated, not without his darling. To have her displeased, in his arms, in their bed, together, was a pleasure that he now couldn’t go without either. Like honey to a bee, he craved the surge of happiness from waking up next to her, hearing her chat away about her day, seeing her live life in all its grace. It was all of this and more that made him desperate for her, so much so that he would tighten his hold on her body and push himself deeper until he was buried deep as can be. And in that moment he was home.
The sigh of relief they both breathed out could lead him to believe that to stay in that position would be enough. Unfortunately and, as always, Nicholas was a selfish man who could never be content with the bare minimum. He needed to have his wife carnally and then enjoy more rest inside her.
As she readjusted on him to return to the sleep slowly evading her, the queen grew needy as can be for her husband to continue what he had started. Her nails started to run along his back, digging into his skin occasionally, when the throbbing of his cock sent electricity through her pliant body. Luckily she did not need to say a word for him to move, or take action.
Covering her body with his more, his lips found every possible area of her face to kiss with tenderness and care while she moaned in pleasure under him. It would be quick, both knew, and he chose to make it as loving as possible. His hips rutted into her with slow yet forceful thrusts, the tip of his cock digging into her guts while she failed to utter a single word. To feel her husband so deep in the morning and to be held so nicely, it was as if he invaded each crevice of her. The soft of her hand now replaced by her nails digging new marks along his wide back, she buried her face in the crook of his neck and big down on his collarbone before kissing the same space her teeth had left their marks in.
« My darling girl… I love you… I love you so much… I could never go without you… » There was generally no reason to such words from him. All were inspired by her presence near him.
She trembled under him, all the way to her toes, curling and her legs shaking from the force of his body pushing into her. With each movements that reached her pleasure point came a small, hiccup like, cry of pleasure from the queen. The sounds of skin slapping, grunts from the king and moans from his beloved merged together, resonating through the room as the only sign of life. And as it was never enough, Nicholas always the greedy man, took his girl in his large hands, holding her by the plush of the hips to flip her over and have her sat down on his throbbing cock.
« Taking me so well, my love… Keep going… » He breathed out into her ear, his lips glued against it as he groaned loudly for each movement.
Suddenly entirely exposed to his eyes and the control he had over her, she abandoned herself in his arms. He planted his feet on the mattress and started bouncing her up and down his fat cock. He was quick to see his tip push into her cervix and lower stomach, a smile drawing on his face before he pulled her close to his chest to kiss away at the tears spilling from her eyes.
« F-Fuck… T- Mmmh, s’good » Her syllables blended together in concert with both their sounds while her hands found support on his shoulders to ground her. It quickly became insufficient thought, the queen wrapping her arms around his neck and burying her nose in his hair.
« I love you… So much. I love you, my pretty girl… Tell me, tell me you love me, my love, tell me you love me too… » His voice was thick with desperation, pleading for her words and her being.
« Yes ! Yes, yes, yes ! S’much, I love you so much, my love, yes ! »
He enjoyed having her in such a state. Barely awakened mind and body trying to process the force of his desire. It was now common for her to lose her thoughts as well as her words, both replaced by tears of pleasure dripping down her soft cheeks. His hands unceremoniously grabbed at the fat of her ass to fully bounce her on top of him, never loosing focus of the tenderness he gave her. Kiss after kiss, his lips never left her. From her lips to her neck, to the spot behind her ear that made her float in his arms, and the corner of her mouth, and her swollen eyelids, every single one of her favorite places he kissed. He even made sure to have his cock kiss her cervix just right to leave no place untouched.
« I…love… you … » A groan of pleasure soon turned into a soft cry erupting out of him. Each word punctuated with a thrust of his. As she tightened around him, he couldn’t take much more himself.
She was the first to finish, as always. The moment his thumb had grazed her clit, she was done for. He watched in awe as her eyes glazed over, her mind visibly blanking before she drowned him in her cum. Of course, he was no better, following only seconds later. The most amount of focus he could muster was put into her again, his eyes trained on her lower shim and how it bulged from his load. He’d never get tired of watching it, the way her body still struggled to take him whole.
These days apart had been difficult and it seemed they both had needed a little more to catch up, not that they would ever be satisfied.
As if nothing had happened, he flipped them both again, this time laying fully on top of her like they both loved and needed. Both bathing in the post coitus glow, breathing heavily and covered in sweat, they stayed quiet for a moment.
King Nicholas’s hands caressed her side, overtaken by admiration as he looked at her. She held his face and looked into his eyes, hers softening. Her thumbs caressed his eyelids, still breathing heavily as she came down from her high. He looked so beautiful, her husband. Her sweet love. She would complain about her sleep but to have him love her so loudly and at every hour of the day. The man she had chosen, to have him disregard the customs to profess his love at ever turn, she could never really be mad at her, not when he spoiled her of his Love.
« You have ruined my sleep, Nicholas… » The tone of her voice was playful, but the smile on her face was the greatest of treasures.
Nicholas dropped on top of her, smiling as she laughed in his ear, carding his hand through his hair and kissing the spot next to her ear.
Both fell asleep for the next few hours, the maids of the castle and any knight with functioning ears and a little bit of experience knowing better than to attempt to bother them.
Life in the kingdom would wait for the rulers to wake up.
#nicholas chavez#nicholas alexander chavez#nicholas chavez x reader#nicholas chavez smut#nicholas chavez imagine#nicholas alexander chavez x reader#nicholas alexander chavez smut#black reader#female reader#woc reader
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Alright, time to share my opinions about Veilguard!! I have both criticism and praise so bear with me as I jump from one extreme to the other 😆 spoilers ahead of course!
The game has a very rough start with the dialogue being formulaic and rushed and the characters overexposing. It feels like a heavy handed attempt at summarizing all of previous games' lore for newcomers or in case you forgot but it's so overdone it feels coddling and trivializes a lot of previous events. Luckily this gets better once all of the introductions are out of the way, though the excessive hints and clarifications continue until the end sadly.
The locations are absolutely incredible and very diverse!! This is a highlight of the game for me. There is so much detail and care in every map and there are so many of them. My pc is struggling to reach medium settings and yet everything looks stunning. The verticality of the maps is so imposing and the graphics have a very dreamy quality that I love. I also enjoy the maze-like structure to the maps, it's more linear but makes everything look a bit more intentional. The color and light direction was amazing, all the visual development really!! it has to be one of the prettiest games I've ever played.
When I started I have to admit it did not feel like I was in Thedas and it all felt a bit theme-parky, if that makes sense. A lot of previously important and established world elements that made Thedas what it is were overlooked or made irrelevant. But the more I played the more it started to feel a bit more similar to Inquisition, for better or worse depending on what you feel about Inquisition. But!! this also feels like a selectively sanitized version of Thedas compared to previous games. In it's attempt to stay safe and uncontroversial in some aspects it loses a lot of substance and it changes the tone. The surface level politics, ignoring previously established major societal issues and a tell-don't-show approach makes the world seem more simple and shallow with no grey areas to explore. ( the humor also falls flat and out of place often too, and WHY is everyone always smirking, enough!! godlike beings are destroying the planet please this is not the time for Marvel banter aaaa )
The pacing at the start is a bit of a mess. It is so fast it felt like jumping from one world shattering discovery to the next with no time to process. The characters also seem to underreact to important information and major developments. It felt like the game was rushing me through all this to get to the part of the story it wanted to tell me while I was still wrapped in my shock blanket trying to catch my breath lmao. I really like all the key story points they touched upon, I just wish they dwelled more on them to give them more narrative weight. ( though blaming every bad thing to ever happen on the Elves was certainly..a choice )
I think the writing could have used more subtlety in the first half and more boldness in the second 😆 but I loved the thematic parallels between Rook and Solas and how every quest informs the main storyline. I do wish Rook was given more impossible choices and put in more difficult situations that forced them to lie or betray their own to better drive the point home though ( listen I just love a Trolley problem!! we need more of those, I'm the Trolley problem's number one fan!! ) I feel like they missed the chance to put Rook in Solas' role and be as vilified and hated for it as Solas was despite their best intentions which would make Rook's regrets stronger and in turn make their escape from the fade all the more impressive and give them a better understanding of Solas to either use against him or earn his respect. The line 'they called me the Dread Wolf, what will they call you when this is over' from the trailers was so good I was waiting for this!! But everyone just loves Rook no matter what!!
But I feel like I stated too many negative aspects in a row so moving on to some things I enjoyed!
The characters were very lovable to me. The romances weren't as long or impactful as I would have liked but I enjoyed all the companion quests. Emmrich is a delight and his quest is so wild and fun. I loved learning about Nevarra and I was awestruck by the Grand Necropolis. The mourn watch was so interesting, it showed a whole new side of Thedas' lore I knew nothing about! and I loved Manfred! Davrin is so charming, he became a favorite. I loved his quest too and learning more bits and pieces about the Dalish was great, I wish we got more. Seeing the Wardens through his quest also made me enjoy them a lot. Assan was very cute too and I'm glad he was treated as an animal and not turned into a goofy Disney sidekick too much lmao 😭 Lucanis is hilarious. The fantasy Spain/Italy was a bit silly and off at times but he is very sweet! and I love the Spite possession, that was so fun I'm glad they kept him that way! Bellara is adorable, her first backstory quest made me cry and I just love a nerd! I wish the second part of her story was written better however, and she sort of devolves into 'it's hard, I wish it was easy but it's hard' dialogues too often sadly. Anaris and the Forgotten Ones' portrayal was underwhelming and anticlimactic which was disappointing. Harding is also very cute and her Titan plotline was the most interesting to me, I bawled my eyes out in her quest!! I love the dwarven lore of this universe I'm so happy we got more of it!! ( she also fucking died in my playthrough?! I was devastated what the hell 😭 'whatever it takes' WEUEUGHHHG I'M SO SORRY) Neve was a slow burn for me because of my choices in game slowing that relationship down ( saving Treviso I mean, perdón amor 🙏 ) but I love detective novels and she is such a badass I ended up loving her. Taash was unexpected, I didn't think they would be so young. The coming of age story was sweet, though I found myself cringing a lot too at the handling of it I have to admit ( and the Lords of Fortune in general, and the Antaam...and que Qun..listen- kajshfgf ) but I also enjoyed learning more about the first expedition and the Qunari in general despite the messy writing and choices. I also loved Antoine and Evka! and Strife! And I haven't even read any of the novels they are in 😆 also Mila!!!! and her dad oh my god and Felassan haunting the narrative!! speaking of haunting, I would have loved for Cole to be in the lighthouse too I think it would have worked well 🤔 especially with the whole 'reading Solas' secret diary' thing the game had going on lmao
Everyone seems to get along except for a bit of friction that is quickly resolved at the start, which is hmm missed potential? I would have preferred more tension personally. I enjoy the drama! gives me more to work with and gives you a better grasp on everyone's personality by contrasting values. I think they wanted to speed run a found family trope for the new hero to establish some emotional stakes early on but it ended up making everyone seem like a group therapy session instead. The group meetings also have everyone either state the obvious or repeat the same opinion or conclusion to each other, I would have loved these meetings to have more bickering, have people get mad and storm out and also get to listen to different takes on a situation. Make Rook struggle more to take the reins and keep the team functional, learning how to be a leader.
Speaking of Rook! ( who in my case has a northern British accent that I loved so much 🥺) They seem to have a very established personality. I was expecting more of a blank slate but I'm lucky that the personality they went for kind of matches what I would normally choose in a first playthrough. Though the lack of range in the choices is irritating and takes away some replayability and role playing potential. Rook is very supportive and selfless, I wasn't expecting this tbh! But it all made my Rook turn into the team's weird supportive necromancer mom so it worked out in the end I guess lmao. I can't wait to draw her!!
I was so overwhelmed by the amount of information we got about Solas and his past!! I was expecting answers but not these many and not for them to be such an integral part of the plot!! The game feels like it's about him more than anything else. His arc is the best written out of all. He is mentioned in every conversation, he's the main advisor and the narrative foil, you get to talk to him often, you work for him and with him and go into his memories it all feels so surreal to me lmao I love him so I'm delighted ngl! but also making the other Evanuris so cartoonishly evil makes Solas into such an obvious choice of an ally, god of trickery or not, that it sort of takes the decision out of your hands and makes some dialogue options and companions' opinions seem almost nonsensical. I have no idea how this game would feel to someone who absolutely hates Solas' guts honestly. I suppose I will find out soon enough 😆
About Solas' story, I loved it! I somehow also feel that I knew it already, all the speculation and theories that Solavellan fans were crafting for years were so accurate that it was all very validating. Even the wildest ones! Solas as the Maker, the elves spirit origin, Mythal giving him a body, the war with the Titans, the origin of the Blight, Solas being on your side as advisor, I can go on, we knew!! Also I have to mention this I'm sorry but they made him look so hot!! unbelievable. And the bloodied teary eyed pathetic look in the end ouurghhh I'm cheering and clapping!!
The romance conclusion was so lovely 😭 the Loki and Sigyn ending we deserved to such a mythological epic!! and open ended enough for all of us to cook!! and we got to see him fight and transform into the Dread Wolf!! and whimper and cry!! and bleed and love!! that's all I ever wanted, incredible we were really spoiled what the hell I still can't believe it 😭 GDL acting was brilliant as usual! the visuals were also incredible and exactly what I had in mind when I imagined where the story may go, the eclipse, the giant wolf, the glowing eyes, the Elvhenan ruins, the statues, even the hair lmao it all aligned exactly to what I've been painting all these years but better I was thrilled 😭
Solas backstory with Mythal also offers players that didn't romance him a chance to see him act out of love and show a side they wouldn't be able to reach otherwise and I think it was smart! also very tragic and sheds more light into all of his choices and words and his relationship with Lavellan too and the parallels and reversals and uughh thoroughly enjoying the emotional distress 👌
Pleasing both the Solas lovers and haters at the same time was always going to be hard with him being such a polarizing character by design and the world states being so different but I think they did a good job! at least from my side of things.
I think my favorite part besides the Solas related stuff was the Blight. I loved how horrific and gross and threatening it was! I've always loved the concept of the Blights and I'm glad it was such a huge part of the story in this game. I also loved Treviso!! has to be the most beautiful city in Thedas ahhh and the Necropolis!! the gardens!! Vorgoth!!! Kal-Sharok!!! I can't believe we got to see it!! and a Titan!!! the giant floating face of Ghilan'nain in the clouds??? and the huge archdemons and dragons!! oh and that warden dragon trap in the shape of a griffon?? and the giant blight tendrils!! the siege at Weisshaupt was outstanding!! and the floating panopticon castle situation in Minrathous uughh there is so much I loved.
OH I also enjoyed the Varric arc even though I saw it coming since the trailer it was still played well and it was touching 🥺
The ending felt a bit jarring to me in tone though, a bit too cheerful considering...the horrors. Over half the continent destroyed and most of the problems Thedas had before the game are still there. Veil in place and all 😆
But I had fun!! I'm nitpicking really, the conclusion to Solas' story feels very satisfying to me which was my main worry so I'm happy. It is a good game!! with a sort of soft reboot feel to it and aimed at a younger audience which is probably what they were going for? You can sort of feel the struggle the team went through during production in the way the target audience seems unclear sadly. I also can't help feeling like this is an ending, so much was revealed and resolved!! but maybe I feel that way because that is what I felt after Shadowbringers / Endwalker in FFXIV once my favorite part of the story was wrapped? They can always pivot to a new continent and expand on the world and cultures we know almost nothing about, but that is always harder to sell so I have no clue where they will go from here 😵💫
Anyway I'm still processing a lot of stuff that I will probably talk (and draw) about later, this is already long enough!! for now I'll look up how to get the artbook because the art direction of this game is fantastic!! I would love to hear your thoughts too really, I'm curious about the experiences of players who made different choices and with different tastes to mine!!
#dragon age#veilguard#dragon age the veilguard#dragon age spoilers#veilguard spoilers#da4 spoilers#datv#nips blogs#I don't know what else to tag this there are so many variants#this critique is about the story and writing mostly not the technical aspects btw!#I'm aware some of these changes are unrealistic in terms of cost and time#this is a review not a rant or demand really! or it's trying to be#I enjoyed the game and will be replaying it eventually and modding the hell out of it 😌
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2019 patrick x miss honey coded/kindergarten teacher reader
In a moment of desperation from both of you, you two resort to Tinder. He was looking for a place to stay, too broke to afford even the cheapest motel. You were looking for some company, desperately lonely in your own personal life even in spite of the fulfillment you felt from your job.
When he asked you to meet for drinks, you felt somewhat wary, never one to drink much, but agreed anyways. You were too lonely to refuse. Upon meeting him, you were surprised, but you knew you shouldn’t have been. His profile told you everything you needed to know. He was scruffy, seemingly polite, though he cussed like a sailor, and he obviously wanted to sleep with you. But it had been so long since that had even happened for you… and you couldn’t deny it was nice to feel wanted.
Of course, you ended up taking him home. He let out a laugh, mostly out of surprise, when he saw the literal cottage you lived in. He marveled at the live flowers around your home and the eclectic interior. That is, before he kissed you as if he was never going to let go.
That was Saturday night. He had slept over, of course, that being his plan all along. Sunday morning you were up before 10am reading with a glass of tea while his toned body laid asleep in your bed. When he finally woke, you offered him tea and a croissant. He eventually asked you the questions that had been pressing on his mind, namely why you dressed ‘like you were going to church.’ Of course, you answered that you were a kindergarten teacher, which he said ‘made a lot of sense.’
That evening he explained his circumstances, you, of course, taking pity on him for having to sleep in his car, and offering he stay for the rest of the challenger. You told him it didn’t come with a price though. He originally was excited, thinking you meant sex, but he was disillusioned when you put him to work on ribbon garlands. “They’re for my class! I showed them a tiny one and they loved it so I said I’d make big ones to put around the classroom.”
He rolled his eyes, but his smile gave him away. He found your dedication sweet. You showed him pictures of your class and told him about all the wild, funny things the kids said, while he worked diligently on the garland. Neither of you realized but you had been chatting and working till 3am, the smoke of your cinnamon scented candle putting itself out as it drown in wax alerting you two. At one point you had dozed off, your head in Patrick’s lap, and he just didn’t have the heart to wake you. When you did wake up, immediately getting back to work, you chastised him for letting you get ‘sidetracked’ by sleep, to which he just chuckled.
When you did finally go to bed, you had thankfully finished the garland and could relax comfortably in Patrick’s arms, even if you would have to go work in only a few hours. You thought you could get used to this.
#no clue where this came from it just came to me but I hope you all like it lol#I love the dynamic of patrick with a soft sweet smart reader that makes him all soft and sweet#also revealing that I am like the biggest Matilda fan ever that was THE movie of my childhood#challengers#patrick zweig#patrick zweig x reader#cordelia writes#challengers moodboard#cordelia makes moodboards
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kinktober: frottage
tags: frottage, making out, secret relationship, targaryen incest [aemond/rhaenyra's daughter], immense pinning by aemond
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“Where is Aemond?”
“I do not know your grace,” Larys replied. Remaining calm in the Queens frustration. She had been hunting for her middle son for hours, and he was no where to be found. “I have checked with the guards and sentries, and no one has seen him leave by Vahgar or horse.”
“So, he must still be in the city.” Alicent deduced. Hoping he was still in the castle as well. “The conclave starts soon, and we need…a united front for the court.” The plan to weave her family’s place to the crown was to start today. First, but claiming Driftmark back from Rhaenyra's brood. Then, with them illegitimized, start making the case that Aegon should be king. “He knows how important today is. How could he do this to me?!”
“The prince is nothing but a servant to duty.” Larys assured her. He may not see eye-to-eye with the prince, at least with the one he had left, but the Lord did respect that he seemed committed to his family and their goal. “I’m sure he will come out of hiding eventually.”
In a further, deeper part of the castle, indeed hidden away from all those who had not truly explored it, Aemond laid sequestered with his maiden. Marveling at her beauty in the low light between kisses. Beads of sweat forming at the back of his neck from the warmth of the candles in the small space and their hot, panting breath. Bucking against each other with soft gasps & grunts in the nest he had built for them
“We have to go.” His lady insisted. For the umpteenth time, yet neither one of them had made a legitimate effort to move.
“No, no. Not yet.”
Aemond didn’t want to go back to the ‘real world’. A world where his family and hers were fighting. Where the rift between them seemed to grow every day. Separating them. Lines in the sand now a chasm that seemed impossible to overcome.
He also knew what was to happen today to Rhaenyra's bastards, and that she might not forgive him for his part in the plot of disinheriting her brothers. Aemond wanted to stay here a little longer, where she wouldn’t be mad at him.
“People will be looking for us.” She told him as he moved to her neck, which was freely given.
“They’ll never find us.” It had taken him years to find this place and even then it had been difficult to remember where the opening was until he had committed it to memory.
“Oh yes. Because you’re so clever. Ow!” His lady yipped but then moaned when he bit at her neck. A true Targaryen. Wanting a little pain with her pleasure.
“We should just leave and never come back.”
He’d made the offer before. To take their dragons and ride until they reach new land. Conquer it like their ancestors. Build a new kingdom, instead of being stuck in this conflicting one.
Yet, every time, she just laughed it off as a joke like she did now. Not realizing the seriousness of how much he wanted to leave, and never come back, and just be the two of them in the world. “You would miss the tarts too much if we left. Come on. Let’s get going.”
Aemond finally let her go, though disappointed about it, and let her right herself.
In the right light, her mused hair and clothes looked like she had been riding. No one would think where Rhaenyra's Targaryen jewel had truly been. In the arms of her scorned, much less beloved uncle. His cock throbbed in his breeches. Desperate to make her truly his, but he would not take such liberties. Aemond would not tarnish their jewel nor besmirch her honor. He loved her too much for that. That’s why he wanted her to run away with him, so they could be together. Growing up in a world beloved & adored, she does not see that her parents will never allow them to marry. Never allow them to be happy. Their jewel will be given to someone politically inclined to help secure her mother’s place on the throne, and Aemond would be unhappy & unfulfilled.
He would join the Watch before he call anyone but her wife.
Righted and upright, Aemond tucked a lock of silver behind her ear. Marveling at the affection reflected in her eyes. “Will you see me later? After the conclave?”
“Of course.” She told him. Her earnest something he wanted to hold on to. “Here, or somewhere else before dinner?”
“Here.” Where he could pretend. And if he spoke his words sweet enough maybe she would take him up on his offer to finally run away.
They exit their nook and depart. Her back to her family and Aemond to his. His mother found him readily enough, given how frantically at this point she had been looking for him, and asked where he had been.
“Day dreaming.” Was all he told her. It was a peculiarly enough answer that it halted all further questions from his mother and left him to get ready for the meeting.
After today, his daydreams where all he might have left. Let him keep them for a little while longer at least.
#;ask and ye shall receive (request answers)#;pen & paper (fanfiction)#aemond targaryen#aemond one eye#book!aemond#prince aemond#house of the dragon#hotd#aemond x reader#house targaryen#hotd imagine#hotd fanfiction#aemond targaryen x you#aemond targaryen x reader#house of the dragon imagine#game of thrones#game of thrones scenarios#got imagine#got scenarios#imagine#scenarios#hotd smut#house of the dragon smut#female reader#larys strong#alicent hightower
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Rage
Daemon x wife reader
Summary: What happens when Daemon’s wife explodes in front of everyone?
Author’s note: hello everyone, it has been several months since I wrote such a long text in such a short time. I reread the first time to correct as many mistakes as possible.
Part 2 will come soon
Tag : @avalyaaa @dc-marvel-girl96
N/h is noble house
Not that Y/n refused the idea of marriage, what she refused was to be forced to marry a stranger living on another continent. Having to make a two-month trip by boat to meet an unknown prince, if for some it would have been a fairy tale, for y/n it was the opposite.
It is true that she could not say that Daemon was ugly physically, but his behavior towards her, was lower than some commoners.
Daemon had refused to meet her, preferring to go around the taverns of King’s Landing. When Y/n heard the news of her future husband’s place of debauchery, she confronted the freshly crowned Viserys, but refrained from saying the bottom of her thoughts.
"Rumor say, that my future husband is in a place of debauchery."
"Oh don’t worry, my dear. Daemon is a man, and a man with desires and needs." Viserys' voice showed his amusement. Under the outraged gaze of Y/n and the gaze of Otto Hightower.
Yes, Otto Hightower, the hand of the king who may be trying to do his job and who understood very well the stakes of the future marriage of Y/n and Daemon.
If Y/n hoped that once married, things would work out. Reality caught up with her.
Whenever it would be at the wedding day, when Daemon looked at her with disdain, or the non-existent wedding night, during which, it was a returning guard from the city who, out of pity, confessed to her that the prince was in one of the most famous brothels and insulted her copiously with all possible words. Daemon showed only disdain towards y/n, and in all this, y/n was alone.
Alone, facing a husband who did not want her and a beautiful family that seemed more tolerating than accepting her in the royal family. Between Viserys who always made excuses for Daemon or mocked the situation, pregnant Aemma that have tried to reassure y/n even if deep down, she knowed that Daemon would not change. Rhaenys who on rare visit, did not even seem to see her. Y/n felt alone, if only the mocking came only from that side. The visiting nobles liked to make fun of her clothes, which were not the latest fashion in Westeros, but represented her kingdom. Y/n hated all the nobles, except the Starks, whom she had never met.
In all this hatred, the most came from the "pimbêche". Noble lady's who took themselves superior while they were pitiful and contemptuous.
Oh and Otto Hightower, how can we forget? Otto dreamed of seeing the marriage of Daemon and Y/n explode, that Daemon is stuck in the kingdom of Y/n and that he can never come back to Westeros. Y/n could understand Otto’s hatred of Daemon, but she didn’t give Otto a spanking, preferring not to become a pawn in the gloomy game taking place on Westeros. The Daemon case being more than enough to give her headaches.
Despite the adversity, y/n remained smiling in front of others, keeping a good figure, at home it was polite to smile softly, which she spanked at all times, even when she dreamed of throwing Daemon from the ramparts of King’s Landing, when she looked away was not due to her shyness, oh no, this technique allowed her not to cast dark glances at the many courtiers.
She could not say how, she was able to keep so calm during the years that followed. Rejected by the nobles, forced to stay in the castle, not to meet Daemon in the streets of the city. Alone against all.
5 years, it took 5 long years...
This day haved to be a day of celebration for whatever reason Viserys found good.
In the morning, the servants of Y/ n had helped her to prepare, her dress was made of a gold thread woven self, allowed to be both light and show the richness of its origins. Whether it was her accessories or the style of her hair. Everything reminded her of her home, her family, because here. That was all she had left.
---
The atmosphere was heavy, Y/n standing with a glass of wine in her hand, watching the show before her eyes.
Daemon a glass of wine in hand, whispered in the hollow ear of a blushing servant.
Viserys spoking with Lord Corlys, or rather, talked about everything and nothing so, as not to leave Corlys talking of the problems of the kingdom.
Aemma stood beside a very young Rhaenyra, a septa not far from them. Several lords looked at y/n with a mixture of curiosity and contempt. Their wives had gathered in a pack of chatterboxes, barely discreet.
"Did you see her outfit?"
"She must think that Daemon will see her."
"Or a guard..."
"She look like a slut..."
"A wild one..."
"All of them are savages."
That someone insulted her was one thing. Daemon liked to call her "My little wildling" while smiling sneakily and with a mocking voice, but that someone dares to insult her people was the breaking point.
No one could have known which was the quickest, between the glass of wine throwing at Lady Lannister or the scream of Y/n.
"Don’t insult my people, you scoundrel!"
All the people present were silent on the shots, looking in the direction of Y/n, under the shock.
"You think yourself superior to me, my people and even yours when you are just a good snake, only good at to bear children. Children who are not of your husband." Lady Lannister blushed, trying to answer but was prevented. " Oh don’t play the innocent, everyone knows you like to copulate with your husband’s guards."
Y/n pointed finger lady n/h.
"And you. You dare to make fun of my outfits while yours are made fun of by your so-called friends behind your back." One tried to escape. " Don’t move! You think you’re trying to run away?! Oh no, not today. You think yourself so superior when you know nothing about my kingdom, and how dangerous it is for Westeros."
All the nobles were put back in their places, before Y/n moved towards the Targaryen.
"Oh, you think you’re out of reach?" Y/n laughs falsely. "Viserys. King of the trash. You play deaf and blind. Not wanting to listen to the problems of your kingdom. How do you want to reign when you are not even able to put back in place your own brother. I wouldn’t be surprised if your reign ended in war."
Although Daemon did not like someone to attack his brother, he could not be against the facts. When the eyes filled with rage and hatred of y/n landed on him, he was taken with a shiver, his pants begin to seem a little small. So... this was the true nature of his wife.
"And you! Dear husband. You are the worst of all. You are a pig packing in noble fabrics. Unable to consume your own marriage, unable to talk with your own wife! Unable to show an ounce of curiosity! How can you ascend to the throne when you are no better than the most disgusting of the people in this city?!"
And so it was that the beginning, all the worst actions of Daemon were brought to light, indicating that y/n knew everything.
"Today you will behave like the husband who is destined for me." She pointed towards a door leading to the many corridors of the castle. " My chamber. Now."
She did not raise her voice, and under the surprise of all, Daemon began to walk quickly in the direction of command.
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Holding It Together
MAIN MASTERLIST / MARVEL MASTERLIST
Logan Howlett x Female!Reader
Word Count: 1,065ish
Summary: It all becomes too much and Logan can tell.
Warning(s): some angst, mental breakdown
Notes: I wrote this because I'm really struggling right now and I wish I had someone to break down to. You can really imagine any type of Logan you want.
Everything had slowly piled on. From every direction. Work. Family life. Your insecurities. The political climate. Your health problems.
On the outside, you forced yourself to seem put together, positive, and okay. But on the inside, you were breaking faster than you could put yourself together. You didn’t want anyone to know how bad it was getting, but someone was slowly seeing the cracks you didn’t know were coming through your facade.
Logan first noticed when you laughed at one of Scott’s lame jokes one breakfast. It wasn’t as loud as it usually was, more hollow. The next time, he found you zoned out in the library. He watched you curiously for a moment. And before he could go to you, Ororo pulled you out of your daze and dragged you a long to come help her.
Logan noticed that you were being pulled in too many directions. Everyone wanted your help all the time. To collaborate on lessons. To ask questions. To hang out. Or to run trainings and missions. Then there were the family events you were constantly going to when you had time. He couldn’t remember the last time you took a day off or insisted on staying in your room for the night. Logan was growing concerned that you weren’t going to be able to handle all of this much longer.
One night, on his way to bed, Logan saw you in the hall. You clearly didn’t notice him as a few tears slipped down your cheeks and you seemed to head to your room on autopilot.
“Y/N?” He called your name.
You froze and quickly wiped away your tears. “Hey, Logan,” you forced out a smile.
“Y/N,” he repeated, his tone full of concern as he stepped closer to you. “Are you okay?”
You bit your lip and nodded. “I’m fine.”
His brow quirked. “You sure?”
“Positive.”
He didn’t believe you one bit. “I’ve noticed that you been non-stop lately.”
“It’s just life,” you shrugged.
Logan shook his head. “No, it’s not, sweetheart. This is much more than that.”
You sighed. “I’m okay, Logan.”
“Y/N—“
“I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” Then you disappeared into your room.
~~~
Logan kept his distance the next day but also made sure that you were in his line of sight most of the day. You were holding yourself like the weight of the world was on your shoulders and Logan hated to see you that way. He just wanted you to be happy and relax.
As they day went on, Logan watched you continually put others before yourself in unhealthy ways. You really had no boundaries. When Kitty asked for your help with prepping dinner, Logan stepped in. He had had enough.
“No, Y/N’s going to go rest,” Logan said, placing himself between you and Kitty.
“What?” You questioned. “Logan, I’m fine.”
He turned around to face you. “No, you’re not. Let’s go.” He gently turned you around and began guiding you to your room.
“Logan—“
“Not hearing it, sweetheart.”
“Logan, please.” Tears collected in your eyes.
“I’m done watching you run on fumes. You’re going to rest and I’ll bring you whatever you need.”
“No.” You pulled yourself from Logan’s grip and spun around to face him. “I can’t, Logan. I need to keep going.”
“You’re going to get sick if you continue on like this.”
“I have to keep going. If I don’t… Just, please, Logan. I’m fine.”
He shook his head. “No. I’m not dropping this. You’re running yourself to the ground and I can’t stand by and watch it anymore.”
“There’s just so much,” you admitted quietly, allowing the tears to fall. “If I help everyone else, I don’t have to think about it.”
“Sweetheart…” He stepped closer and carefully cupped your face in his large, rough hands. “Ignoring the problems are just going to make it worse. Trust me, I’m the king of doing that.”
“I’m sorry. It’s just all too much, Logan… It’s all too much.” You broke down into sobs and Logan quickly pulled you into him, holding you close.
“I got you, sweetheart. I’ve got you.”
Gently, Logan picked you up and carried you the rest of the way to your room. He tried to set you down on your bed but you gripped him tightly. He toed his boots off as he held you before moving to lay on the bed.
“You can’t keep going like this, sweetheart,” he told you as you cried against him. “You’re wearing yourself down and it’s hurtin’ me to see.”
“I’m sorry,” you cried.
He shushed your apology. “Don’t do that.”
“Everything’s just so overwhelming… I’m so alone and I don’t know how to handle any of it.”
“I’m not goin’ to let you handle it alone anymore. I’m right here for you, sweetheart.”
You pushed yourself up to try to get off of Logan and shook your head. “No, I can’t put my burdens on you, Lo—“
“Stop that.” He pulled you back against him. “You can’t keep your burdens to yourself any longer. I’m here and willing.”
“Why?”
Logan looked at you and hesitated. How could he possibly tell you that he had a major crush on you when you were at such a low? He would have to wait and be okay with just being a friend for now.
“Because, sweetheart, I care about you,” he responded. “And I’m your friend. Let me help.”
You nodded. “And it all… won’t scare you away?”
“Never, darlin’. Nothing you could say would ever scare me away from you.”
Your breath caught at his words and the look in his eyes. You could see that he was serious and that there was something else behind it. You didn’t push though, not in the right mindset.
“I need you to stop holding it all in, sweetheart,” Logan continued. “I need you to be straight with me and allow me to help you.”
“I don’t know where to even start, Logan… Just the thought of any of it… I get emotional and I—“
“Calm down, darlin’. Breathe. We don’t have to talk about anything right now. Whenever you’re ready.” He kissed your head. “Right now, let me just hold you. Okay?”
You let yourself sink into him further, tears still slipping from your eyes. “What if I fall asleep?”
“Then I’ll hold you until you wake. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”
#james logan howlett x reader#logan howlett x reader#logan howlett imagine#logan x reader#logan howlett#james logan howlett#logan howlet x reader#logan howlett x y/n#logan howlett x female!reader#logan howlett x you#logan howlett x mutant reader#logan howlett x f!reader#logan howlett x fem!reader#wolverine fanfiction#the wolverine#wolverine#wolverine x reader#x men x reader#marvel fanfic#marvel fanfiction#marvel x reader#worst wolverine#worst!logan x reader#old man!logan#old man!logan x reader
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Black woman’s skin turns blue from powers; is this whitewashing/erasure?
Anonymous asked:
I have a character in a comic I'm hoping to write one day. She's a light skinned black woman(she's half white if that helps!) living in New York City during an 80s themed post nuclear apocalypse. The comic's main characters are all rock stars, so a lot of the character design elements revolve around the different rock genres. The character in question is in a glam rock band, so there's lots of bright, saturated, crazy colors involved in her design. The problem I'm having involves this one story beat where she gets mutant superpowers that give her electricity and sound based abilities. Her skin turns cotton candy blue as a result of the mutation. I'm hung up on whether or not this might fall under some kind of skin lightening or white-washing trope since it's a fairly light shade of blue. I designed her mutant look before her human look, so this was well before I'd even figured out what race she was, and I simply thought the shade of blue would compliment both the electricity powers and the fact that her hair is dyed pink. Is there a way I could still make this work? Or am I worrying about nothing?
Ideally, it would be nice to keep her brown skin tone. There’s a common comic and supernatural trend where Black people’s skin is covered up by a suit or Black-coded characters are an unnatural color (blue, green, purple, etc).
This is more of an issue when:
There are no other Black characters of those identities besides the covered up/ ones with unnatural skin colors.
The creator adds this change to make them "special" because they do not believe Black characters, with features commonly associated with Black people like dark hair, skin and eyes, are acceptable enough for the character to stand on their own.
The supernatural special Black people are treated well by the story. The "non-special" Black people have unhappy stories and misfortune.
Other races of characters do not get their skin covered up or changed. Only the Black ones and/or BIPOC in general.
I think a quick fix for this would be for her skin to turn blue when she’s actively using her powers, at random, or other specific times, besides constantly. If she needs to be more consistently “mutant looking” Are there other ways she could change without her skin color changing or changing completely?
People with glitter on skin, light surrounding their face, and blue braids. Images from pexels.
More ideas that keep her skin brown
Hair
Her hair color changes blue or your color of choice (which could include body hair too, which would give her a more “otherworldly” appearance).
Note: If her hair is curly or natural, please keep it so! At least, the powers shouldn't change it straight.
Eyes
Her eyes glowing brighter or colorfully during power-use.
Note: If they're usually brown, they could stay brown when powers not in use, like Marvel's Storm in some versions.
Storm by Marvel Entertainment//20th Century Studios.
Skin and body
Blue patterns appear on her skin.
Blue glow or sheen to her skin without fully changing the color.
Her skin projects color and light.
New growths or changes to body, such as ear shape, wings, etc.
No matter what you decide, please make clear in your tale that she’s a Black mixed race woman. And have fun!
More reading:
How Special is Too Special? The Politics and Characterization of Stacking Special/Abnormal Traits on Mixed Race Characters
~Colette
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Hello! If you're willing, could request dbbq ena with a gn!reader who has more self destructive stims (ex: bitting nails, skin picking, scratching at arms, ect.) Nothing too serious, just not the best or most healthy stimming methods. Kind of like her helping them break the habits and all?
It's entirely fine if not! Live your writing, keep up the great work and have a wonderful day!
No Biting
Dream BBQ ENA w/ a partner with self-destructive stims
Warning: Reader having self-destructive stims and habits (skin picking, nail biting, etc). Dream BBQ ENA being her weird little self.
As someone who also has destructive stims (nail biting, skin and scab picking, nibbling, and hair tugging) I get this so much because sometimes a really do bite my nails till I end up damaging the part where the nail meets the actual skin and pull hang nails till they hurt. So tbh thanks for this anon
Again, any and all behavior you do is a marvel to ENA. She definitely has moments where she herself stims and has her own habits. But when she notices that you do certain things like pick your skin and all that. She’s interested
Especially since some of these things seem to cause you pain but you still do it
She picks up on the fact that you sometimes pick at your skin and then show signs that it hurts, like the spot becoming red and you having small micro expressions of pain when you start doing it again
“Why must you do this repeated action if it quickly becomes unenjoyable for you? Is it programmed into you?”
You explain to her that it’s just a thing you do out of habit and that it’s just second nature to the point that you keep doing it even though you probably shouldn’t
“So you have programmed this behavior pack into yourself? Might you be able to uninstall it then?”
You agree that you could, but that it’s hard since it is in fact second nature at this point
ENA then decides that this is her duty now. To keep you from doing these stims and breaking the habit
She does this in one of two ways, respective to which side is active
Her business side just stays vigilant to anything and everything you’re doing at every single moment to be there when you start doing whatever self-destructive habit you have, and politely prevent you from doing it
Like if you try and bite your nails. She just takes your hand and gently pushes it away from your mouth stating “You are not a consumable, dearest. There is no need to have your phalanges make contact with your oral cavity.”
Or if you pick your skin she does that same, saying “There is no point to pinch at random coordinates of our form. It will only cause us semi-permanent and temporary anomalies there.”
Meanie has a very blunt approach of just telling you to knock it off
“HEY! What did we say about the biting? Knock it off before you break your membranes.”
“Quit scratching like you have fleas! We both know there’s no itch!”
It’s almost like when you tell a dog to drop something they have in their mouth. That’s the tone she has with you
She’s very happy when she’s able to watch you from the corner of her sights and doesn’t see you doing any of your self destructive stims anymore or doing more “healthy” ones that don’t involve any of the biting, nibbling, picking, or whatever
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STEAL THE STARS
── Azriel x Fem!Reader
[ witch / fairy hybrid reader ]

For as long as you’ve known them, Rhysand and Cassian have treated you like a little sister. Despite all of the joking around, you know you can go to them for anything. Rhysand made it clear from the day you came to stay with them that if you wanted anything at all, you need only ask for it.
With a certain shadowsinger, it was different. Azriel seemed to always keep you at arms length. He’d be polite if you spoke to him, but he didn’t engage with you in the same way the rest of the inner circle did. You had no idea why, and used to spend hours wondering what you’d done wrong.
Eventually, you simply stopped trying. Azriel didn’t realize just how much he enjoyed your presence, until you were basically never there. By the time he realizes his true feelings, he may not get a chance to tell you. Because the moment he comes to his senses, Madja is telling them it may be too late to save you.
TAGLIST ── 46 out of 50 spots taken!
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#acotar#acotar au#azriel shadowsinger#azriel x you#azriel x reader#azriel x female!reader#azriel x fem!reader#azriel angst#azriel fluff#cassian#rhysand#inner circle#steal the stars
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MARVEL RIVALS - Christmas time!!
Characters included: MAGNETO, SCARLET WITCH, LOKI, STORM, MOON KNIGHT.
Note(s): This includes a lot of headcanons because I'm not sure the full lore and characterisation of things like the X-Men, what version of Moon Knight they're going for, what have you. So, I'm doing it on what I prefer from various comic runs, movies, shows, etc over the years. Some are a little lackluster because of this.
MAX EISENHARDT / ERIK LEHNSHERR / MAGNETO

Erik personally doesn't celebrate Christmas, and that's due to the religious connotations of the holiday even if it's become less Christianity based over the years. But, he doesn't mind the excuse to give you a gift and spend time with his family if you do celebrate. Even if, at this point, the 'family' is just you and him.
He won't put up decorations if you're spending Christmas at his house or if you share a house, he won't wrap the gift, he won't have Christmas themed dinners or anything, but he'll always accept your gifts and give you one back if, as mentioned before, you happen to celebrate. If you don't, he most likely won't give you a gift or mention it as the holiday's existence will simply slip his mind. More of an afterthought than anything else.
Of course plenty of mutants on Krakoa celebrate, and plenty don't, and plenty have a weird in-between where they participate but don't really celebrate. So, it's not entirely out of sight out of mind. In all honesty, Erik is just happy mutants get a chance to have any holidays alive and happy with one another at all.
If you prefer to go all out for Christmas, as in all the things he wouldn't do that I mentioned before, Erik wouldn't mind. All he asks is that you leave both his room and the public parts of your home alone. Assuming you share a room, then he plainly asks that you don't decorate it, but if you must, to keep it at a minimum.
If you don't share a house and he's simply spending holiday time at your house then he politely comments on the decorations, maybe giving a bit of backhanded and passive aggressive sass if he thinks they're ugly. But, it's your home. It's not his place to say what goes and what doesn't.
Speaking of that situation, if you have family staying at your house for Christmas / you live with family, he's very awkward, and I don't believe he'd go at all if nobody in the house is a mutant. Erik doesn't doubt they know of him, it'd be strange if they didn't, so I think you two would give him a secret identity for your families safety. He'd be very silent and still during opening presents, with a dash of silent judgment.
I don't think he'd outright refuse to help you with decorations, he'd do that old man thing where he stares at you with a huffed look on his face until you ask him for help, in which case he mainly uses his powers if there's metal involved. Sometimes he'll say something like 'really my dear, did you truly need help or is this an excuse to spend time with me?' But hey, he's pretty tall so if you happen to not be tall, he's a great help!
I think he'd gift you something like jewellery, metal, but also with other things like, well, jewels. He wants something simple, but that shows heartfelt meaning. It's covered in intricate patterns, perhaps ones that reflect your place of origin to show that he loves you, even where you were born.
Erik's eyes tilt up, following your lingering gaze. He nearly lets out a laugh at the mistletoe hanging above you, but it comes out as a small huff. 'what a silly tradition.' he'd hum, before leaning close and giving your lips the most unsatisfactory peck he's ever given them. At your look, whether outwardly dissatisfied or with only a hint of disappointment in your eyes, he'll act like it wasn't purposeful, sighing as if this is some chore as he leans in for another. But you know him well, you know that hidden loving look in his eyes.
WANDA DJANGO MAXIMOFF / SCARLET WITCH

Wanda, for the reasons in Magneto's section, also doesn't celebrate Christmas. Although, I don't see her continuing on any holidays in general or family traditions, her broken connection to her father most likely created a fractured connection to anything associated with him. She just doesn't seem like a 'holiday' person to me.
However, if you two either happen to share a house or she's at yours in time for the holidays, she doesn't mind helping you put up decorations or helping you cook for Christmas. If you have family, she's doing a mix of doing what she can to impress them whilst refusing to do anything that makes her go past her comfort zone.
I absolutely think she's a good cook, and if she doesn't unintentionally hijack the kitchen, she will help whoever's in there. Whether that be you or your family. Any attempts to tell her that 'you're a guest' and 'you should be relaxing' are met with a wave of the hand and a small, awkward smile. As much as she does just love to help your family assuming they're sweet and accepting of her, she also is very peculiar with food. I think Wanda would make her own side dish just in case.
Honestly, I think she would invite Pietro and Lorna if you and them are close enough? She knows Christmas is a family event, and since that's her family, why not invite them, right? She hopes you see them as your family too, because they've spent too long without something stable. Even though deep down she does have some love for her father, although maybe not as deep down as she thinks, she doesn't want to and would never contact him for Christmas with you and especially not with your family.
Wanda loves to do that thing where she hugs you from behind, absolutely astounded that she has you. She's astounded that you love her, and that you appreciate her so much. Not many do, and she can't help but find so much comfort in that. I think she'd do it whenever she gets emotional but doesn't want to show it, a hug from behind to tell you that she's hurting, but you're helping her heal.
Wanda doesn't like the feeling she gets when opening presents in front of your family, especially if they've given her something. It's usually something they've got an idea from after asking you, so maybe a candle or something handmade, and as much as she appreciates and even loves the gifts she's given it's still a weird almost performance she needs to put on. The feeling isn't as uncomfortable as it is just a bit awkward.
I think she'd only give you a gift if she knows you're getting her one, through communication. She won't ask what it is or peek through your mind to find out, she doesn't really care what the gift is exactly, and she trusts you enough to gift her something she likes and would find useful. I think Wanda does love little mutual acts of affection, so she wouldn't miss out on an opportunity to give you something.
Her eyes flick up before yours do, and Wanda can't help but give you a small chuckle, the most amused look in her eyes that you've ever seen. 'oh? Isn't this convenient.' she purrs, her hand outstretches, capturing your own in a comforting embrace. She whispers, 'I can't believe I got so lucky, my love. You're wonderful.' before giving you a short but comfortable and loving kiss.
LOKI LAUFEYSON

Loki thinks your celebration is more than a little silly. I mean, who cares about this guy who gives presents to kids? Why not the adults? He does far more in a day than some snotty brat has done in their entire lifetime!
Oh- he's not real? Well, then where are his presents, mortal?!
He will say that even if you're not a mortal by the way. It's his personal way of saying 'you're under me and I'm perfect compared to you' without actually saying it.
He absolutely refuses to stay at your house for Christmas if you have family over, because he knows that he will cause mischief and you will get angry at him for it and he would rather you gift him your devotion than be under your wrath. Don't tell him he could kill you easily, he knows that, and he will if you keep pittering on. (He won't). Unless, perhaps, you don't have the best relationship with your family. Then he can probably convince you that it's fair game.
Loki will not invite Thor or Hela, don't even entertain the idea. He will leave.
I think he'd give you a dagger of some kind for a present, even if you're a regular Joe and don't have a use for weapons, you can always display it. And have an engraved stand that tells you your mighty lover, Loki, God of Mischief and notoriously handsome trickster, had gifted you it for your silly holiday.
He will not help you cook or put up decorations unless you literally beg him to, even then he can mainly do some pieces of meat at least decently well. It'd be best to have him do some parts of the cooking while you're preoccupied with the other. He tends to only help with the decorations he knows you'll struggle with, although he won't tell you that outright it's pretty obvious. Especially if you're shorter, less strong than he is, or have any kind of physical disability that could cause trouble with putting up decorations.
Will puff up his chest and grin when you compliment his efforts to help and or compliment his gift. He loudly proclaims that of course he'll give you something so beautiful, because he's beautiful and he very clearly has taste. But, you simply couldn't ignore the way his gaze softened a little when you were speaking. The way you could feel his eyes looking you up and down with adoration.
Loki raises a brow at your expectant look, slowly following your gaze until it reaches the mistletoe. Oh, you've explained this to him, the strange little kissing ritual you midgardians have. His expression twists into something different, his eyes sparkling with mirth, but he doesn't go right in for the kiss. Instead, he holds your chin in his hand, pulling you close until you can breathe in each other's air. 'what a silly mortal.' he mutters, making you tilt your head so he can kiss you. He doesn't intend it to be a small peck either, his kiss is as deep and passionate as you allow it to be.
ORORO MUNROE / STORM

Ororo finds amusement in your tradition, the decorations, the gifts, it makes her heart warm. It's a time for family, and she reminisces over the X-Men's past Christmas times. It's never dull, lots of mutations being used when they're not supposed to, frequent arguments and drama, it was perfect. Not to mention, always the best meals from Gambit and Rogue. She adores the look on the younger mutants faces when they receive something special.
And, in her personal opinion, she's the best gift giver in the X-Mansion.
Ororo would absolutely help make meals, and she jokes that she's not as good at it as Gambit or Rogue are, but she'll try her best. She then proceeds to make one of the best meals you've ever had. It's perfectly flavoured, the texture is just to your liking, it's absolutely delightful. And if you're spending time with family? Expect her to go all out.
Your family will adore her, no doubt about that. No matter what the situation is, whether you and Ororo share a house, you live on your own, you live with family, or you and your family visit the X-Mansion for the holidays. She charms them with her sternness and discipline, her strength unimaginable, but her warmth and friendliness is what truly seals the deal in their adoration for her.
Unwrapping presents tends to be a long process for the X-Mansion. There's a lot of people there, so it's normal to open them all at once and try to get it through as quickly as possible, cleaning as you go with trash bags at the ready to throw in any waste. With a whole family, or perhaps just you in the mix, it can be a bit awkward and even a little overstimulating if you're not acquainted with the X-Men. She's never felt the need to pretend, so she assures you that you don't need to be happy the entire evening because Logan isn't and everybody still loves him, you'll be fine.
The one thing Ororo loves to do most is listen to you. Whether it be generally your life, what you had for breakfast, a story from your childhood, it creates something easy where she can bounce off the conversation with something of her own. It continues the conversation until either of you end it, and causes the conversation to flourish where it would've died otherwise. She uses this to find out what present you'll want for Christmas, so it'll heavily depend on what you actually want.
It honestly doesn't matter what you get her, she'll be appreciative all the same. She knows just how hard it can be to afford things, to create from seemingly nothing, no matter how much effort you put in. To her, the fact you gave her a gift at all is something meaningful within itself. So, even if it's some poorly made easily breakable bracelet, she will wear it with pride.
When she finds herself under the mistletoe with you, her lips curl into the most amused smile and she'll use her powers to twirl the leaves, a teasing hint to her true might. 'was this your plan all along, my dear?' she'll ask, leaning closer, waiting for you to capture her lips. If you take too long, however, she'll raise a brow and mutter a teasing 'don't test my patience' before kissing you herself.
MARC SPECTOR / MOON KNIGHT

Marc is, well, he's not the most jolly guy, and it's been years since he's even bothered to tune into Christmas time when it happens. It's not like he has anybody to spend it with. He would much rather you spend Christmas with Steven or Jake, they're better at that kind of thing, and they're a lot more friendly, buddy buddy with you.
Of course Marc loves you, and if you really want to spend time with him for Christmas he will do it, but he isn't going to act differently for you. He will be the same edgy, broody man. He will absolutely say something like 'the Christmas lights are too bright, it ruins my outfit.' in the gruffest voice you've heard.
I think he'd be a good cook. Nothing that blows you away, but you can definitely eat enough to get full and be satisfied with it. Jake probably leaves some recipes around, and if it does end up becoming a disaster he can always take over and salvage the situation before the house burns down.
He doesn't mind the house being decorated, assuming it's either his or your shared one, as long as it's not like so many Christmas lights it's hard to see or so many decorations you get whacked on the face with them whenever you want to walk somewhere. He'd also help if you asked him to, but I don't think Marc would just hop on and help. He'd assume you have it all covered.
I don't think there are many universes where Marc would consider meeting and visiting your family for Christmas, especially not the Marvel Rivals one. If you're really insistent and passionate about it, he supposes he can. But don't expect him to stay for long if they're not accepting of you or him, he doesn't have any tolerance for that. Plus, he doesn't want to hear Khonshu complaining in his ear that he isn't committing murder while he's around your family, they don't get him or his Identity as Moon Knight like you do.
'Mistletoe, huh?' he muses, his voice would sound almost annoyed to anybody else, but you know him better than anybody else. Or, at least most other people. He crosses his arms as you look up and realise, clearly having forgotten at some point. With his expression a strange mix between a firm sternness and amusement, he pats his lips with his pointer finger twice. 'you put it up, you initiate.'
#fandom: marvel rivals#character: max eisenhardt#character: erik lehnsherr#character: magneto#character: wanda maximoff#character: scarlet witch#character: loki laufeyson#character: loki#character: ororo munroe#character: storm#character: marc spector#character: moon knight#reader: no pronouns#reader: gender neutral#relationship: romantic#marvel rivals x reader#marvel rivals x gn reader#marvel rivals headcanons
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