#no one expects the safety inspection

[revelboo]

Carrying the pet headcanons

IDW Megatron x Reader, IDW Starscream x Reader, IDW Wheeljack x Reader, yeah, I’m not listing them all, but just how each mech handles/carries a human.

Starscream

• Carries you cradled against his chassis, servos curled partially around you. Tucks you inside his canopy if there are any other mechs about to hide you. He’s not exactly ashamed of you, more worried about you getting hurt to spite him. With how many enemies he’s made, he fully expects treachery. When he does allow you to ride on his shoulder, one big hand is always up, not touching you, but ready to grab you. It’s easy enough to tell he’s not the happiest with you perched there despite your insistence on being able to see. His wings stay aggressively up the whole time until you take pity on him to climb into his hand.

Thundercracker

• Doesn’t just grab you and it’s honestly adorable as he kneels and offers a huge hand to try and coax you to him like you might a stray dog. You’re pretty sure in his alien mind, you are a stray dog, but the novelty of not just being grabbed makes that realization more amusing than insulting. And his expression when you do willingly come to him to be picked up is too cute. He’s not above bribing you to him with little odds and ends he finds, including food of dubious origin.

Megatron

• Cages you carefully between his hands like a fragile moth he wants to inspect without hurting. For such a huge mech, he’s shockingly gentle with you. A lot of it is guilt, that dark tide constantly threatening to pull him under. Finds your presence soothing, but because of that same guilt, will pass you off to another caretaker given a chance. Can’t trust himself to not accidentally break you. He feels he definitely shouldn’t be entrusted with fragile things when all he’s good at is destruction. But he does love those quiet moments of contact, deserving of them or not.

Ratchet

• Picks you up to almost absentmindedly move you from getting under ped or if you’re just in his way while he’s working. He’s careful about how he handles you, but uncomfortable with just holding you like a favorite pet. Gets the award for being painfully awkward when he does have to carry you, because he’s sure you don’t enjoy being carried like a sparkling. He’s sure you resent it even if you never say a word. You don’t mind when it’s him picking you up. Those clever hands are so gentle with you and the longer he has to carry you, the more uncomfortable and gruff he gets.

Skywarp

• Absolute menace. Carries you like a toddler with their first kitten. One hand too tight around your middle as you hang upside down, because why carry you right side up when you change colors upside down? The more you struggle and swear, the funnier he finds it. Plus, he’s learning so many new, fun words and phrases to use. Most likely to accidentally, on purpose, drop you.

Whirl

• Not a lot better. He seizes you around the middle with one claw and carries you hanging awkwardly face down, arms and legs dangling and your hair in your face. Sometimes swings his arms, because your miserable groaning and complaints are too funny. Won’t hurt you intentionally despite acting like a jerk. Actually pretty protective of you and by his twisted logic, no one else is allowed to mess with you. Only him.

Wheeljack

• Doesn’t really carry you around unless there are other bots about. Honestly, isn’t sure how you feel about being picked up, but you’re so tiny compared to them and he gets anxious whenever he sees you walking in a hall with other Autobots. It doesn’t matter that he knows you’re in no danger. Those times, he makes a line straight for you, scooping you into his servos for your own safety. Half the time, he scares you silly because you hear running, heavy peds behind you, then you’re being grabbed. He means well and you appreciate how much he worries, but, really, you’re fine. The others see you. No one is going to step on you.

Soundwave

• Has a fondness for small things and even though you’re hardly one of his cassettes, will pick you up place you in his chest compartment if he finds you wandering about unsupervised. Being nabbed and dropped into the dark absolutely terrifies you at first, but you can see a dim glow in front of you and hear the hum of the big mech’s inner workings around you. It’s a surprise to both of you when you manage to fall asleep inside him. That cements it for him, he adopts you.

Bonus: Soundwave’s cassettes

• Frenzy seizes you around the middle under your arms and carries you around like a younger sibling, your toes dragging as you squirm to get away. Rumble would rather grab you by a leg and drag you kicking and protesting behind him just to see how long he can get away with it before Soundwave intervenes. As protective as the huge mech is, he’s surprisingly tolerant of his cassette’s mischief. You’re not being physically hurt? He’s allowing it. Cassetticons squabble- it’s how you set your boundaries. More than once, Lazerbeak has dive-bombed you, claws snagging the back of your shirt so he can lift you a foot or so up off the ground, because your terrified yelp sliding into angry swearing is too funny to him. May have dropped you once when your shirt just tears in his claws. Ravage prefers to nudge you along in the direction he wants you to go, but isn’t above carefully gripping your arm in his jaws to firmly tug you along if you’re resisting. Oddly enough, you grow resigned to your “older siblings” fast enough. You don’t really have a choice.

[trulyumai]

an arrow of might

—synopsis: an arrow struck through the crowd, past the display of people and aimed for your head. geta was furious.

pairing: Emperor geta / Empress! reader

—warnings: violence, talk of death, protective Geta

enjoy!

The Colosseum was alive with a frenzy of noise and movement, the sun beating down mercilessly on the sand-strewn arena. The clash of steel, the roars of beasts, and the cheers of thousands of spectators created a tempest of sensory overload. Amid this chaos, you were absorbed in the delicate task of caring for your young son, who was captivated by the spectacle unfolding before him.

Geta, seated in his position of authority, kept a vigilant eye on the arena, but his gaze frequently shifted towards you and the child. The violence below, while meant to display Rome’s might, was unsettling, and you could not shake the feeling of anxiety gnawing at your heart.

Without warning, the atmosphere shifted abruptly. The roar of the crowd intensified, shifting to panicked shouts and cries. Your pulse quickened as you saw an arrow slicing through the air, its trajectory erratic and alarming. Time seemed to slow as it arced dangerously towards you.

Instinctively, you pulled your son close, shielding him with your body. The arrow whizzed past, embedding itself with a sickening thud into the wooden frame of your chair. Your heart leapt to your throat as you glanced around in shock, the enormity of the danger sinking in.

Geta’s reaction was immediate and fierce. His eyes, usually calm and composed, now blazed with protective fury. He sprang into action, his authoritative presence cutting through the crowd with decisive urgency. Each powerful stride was driven by the primal need to protect his family. His voice, usually steady, now carried a note of raw command.

“Protect her!” Geta bellowed, his tone slicing through the chaos. His personal guards, trained for such moments, formed an impenetrable barrier around you and your son, their weapons drawn and their eyes scanning for any further threat.

The world seemed to constrict to a singular focus: Geta and the peril surrounding you. You held your son tightly, his small frame trembling against you. His wide, frightened eyes met yours, and the sight of his innocent fear only deepened your own.

Geta reached your side in a heartbeat, his face etched with a fierce blend of relief and anxiety. “Are you hurt?” he demanded, his voice strained with concern as he knelt beside you, his hands carefully examining not only your face, but the space around you.

“I’m fine,” you managed to get out, your voice shaky but resolute. “But the arrow...”

Geta’s gaze followed the path of the arrow, his expression darkening with a protective rage. “Stay down,” he instructed firmly, though his voice was gentler, coaxed with honey and warmth to your scared being. He signaled one of his guards to remove the arrow while another scanned the stands, his eyes never leaving you.

The crowd’s murmur grew to a tense, expectant silence. The sudden intrusion of danger had shifted the mood dramatically. You looked up at Geta, whose normally stern features were now a mask of fierce protectiveness. He reached out to steady you, his touch both reassuring and urgent.

“I’m.. sorry,” Geta murmured, his voice breaking slightly as he looked into your eyes. “I should have been more careful.. to think I would bring you to such a spectacl—.”

“No,” you interrupted, voice trembling with a mix of fear and gratitude. “You protected us. You kept us safe.”

Geta’s gaze softened as he regarded his son, who clung to you with wide, terrified eyes. The arrow, now removed and inspected, was a stark reminder of how fragile safety could be. The danger had been real and immediate, and its impact was palpable.

With a resolute nod, Geta turned to his guards, issuing sharp commands to heighten security and ensure the safety of everyone present. His concern for you and your son was palpable, yet so was his unwavering commitment to maintaining order.

“Are you certain you’re alright?” Geta asked again, his eyes searching yours with a depth of concern that spoke volumes.

“Yes,” you assured him, though your voice was barely more than a whisper. “I’m just shaken.”

He nodded, his face returning to its usual mask of authority, though his gaze remained tender as it rested on you. “We’ll leave as soon as the games conclude. Your safety is my foremost concern.”

The spectacle continued below, but its appeal had been tainted by the recent events. Geta’s protective presence was a comforting shield, a reminder of his dedication and love. As you held your son close, enveloped by Geta’s unwavering vigilance, a profound sense of relief and gratitude washed over you.

In the midst of chaos and danger, the strength and love of your family had proven to be the greatest shield of all.

[kenjakusbraincum]

Sukuna is old. He is also weirdly cultured for the monster that he is. With so much time on his hands, he loves indulging in arts and literature, and as with everything else he tries, he's good at it. You wouldn't know this, of course, you are only his pet. The time you spend with him is limited and hardly consists of intellectual conversation. You are there to serve one purpose and you know that quite well. So when you wake up in his bed one morning, two things come as a surprise. First that you're even here. It's one of those rare occasions when Sukuna couldn't be bothered kicking or carrying you out of his chambers once your time together was up. Second, he's awake, bent over his desk and so concentrated on a little figurine in his hand that he doesn't immediately notice you've shuffled awake. Once your eyes focus, you see that he's holding a tool in his other hand. He's carving wood. You're almost hypnotized by the scene. The scene feels so private that even for a pet like you, who knows Sukuna in the most intimate way, it feels like you shouldn't be watching. But you can't look away.

"Awake?", he asks, without sparing a glance at you. You apologize for staring, and look for your clothes around the bed. You throw them on just precisely enough to cover up until you reach your chambers, just wanting to be as quick and innocuous as possible. You wait for Sukuna's approval to leave. He gives you a simple nod, once more avoiding to look at you. You leave feeling conflicted. Special, because he allowed you to stay and watch (even as little as you did), but saddened because he barely looked at you, once more solidifying in your mind that you're only interesting to him when you're naked and bent over. As long as you've been here, you could never stop wishing for his validation.

Sukuna knows when you get insecure too. He notices the way your eyes droop, the way you close in on yourself and seem absent in his presence. He justifies this excessive worry about you by telling himself he likes to be the only thing that bothers his pets. All the way until he realized he already is the only thing that can make you sad. This realization falls upon him one time he lashes out on you and sees the immediate change of heart on your face. Now, he isn't one to apologize, especially not to someone who is as low under him as his pet. But why does he feel guilty when he sees this one act of his ruin your day? When he catches a glimpse of you sitting in the garden with your head hung low, or leaving more food on your plate than you usually do. If only you knew the way you really made him feel.

He beckons you to his chambers, and you follow three steps behind him like a good pet does. You didn't expect this time to be any different than others. You've become used to serving Sukuna on days you loved him and on days you hated him. But when he tells you to close your eyes, you know something is different. You obey, of course, and listen to his footsteps as he fetches something from the room. His hand takes yours and opens it, placing a piece of wood onto your palm. You already know, but you wait for him to allow you to open your eyes. He lightly presses his thumb on your cheek under your eye, and when you look, you find a small wooden fawn, curled up and asleep in your hands.

"Master!!..", you start, but nothing else can leave your mouth. You turn the figure around in your hand, inspecting and admiring the details. He's given you gifts before, but not ones carved by his own hand. Not ones made with love.

"You don't have to squint anymore.", Sukuna says, almost jokingly. But his face is as serious as ever as he looks at you, his muse. He thinks of the first time he's exhausted you to the point of passing out right after your nightly meetings. You were relatively new and very unsure of your safety. He thinks of your small body curled up in sleep on the edge of his bed, knees pressed to your chest in a primal, subconscious attempt to protect yourself. His little pet, his fawn.

You slur on and on about how beautiful it is, how you don't know how to thank him, the usual when you receive a gift. And as usual, Sukuna shuts you up with a kiss. You welcome it and wrap your arms around his neck, giving yourself in to him and letting him take you to the bed.

And he takes things slow tonight. He's gentle and so, so giving. Every sensation is delicate, prolonged and heightened to exhaustion. You cling to him, pull him impossibly close, and come apart under the comforting weight of him. Afterwards, you hold his hand to your face and kiss it softly. His hands, so large and strong, capable of such violence, yet for you they craft gifts, cradle, caress, love... in a very subtle and distant way, of course. With these thoughts your hands slip away from his, you turn around and quickly drift off.

He looks at you now, sleeping so close to him. Trusting him with your back, and turning your curled up form to the outside world. As if he is no longer a perceived danger. He smiles to himself in victory, and plants a chaste kiss to your shoulder to wish you one final goodnight.

[im-so-normal-iswear]

HALLO! :D i saw that requests were open so i figured i'd try my hand with one! (If it's still okay w/ you ofc!)

I wanted to request a lil mini scenario with triple s & a gn! reader, where the two end up being under attack on a mission and reader takes a hit for him, but frets over him and asks if he's okay as if they aren't the one who's bloody/bruised from the attack

Hoping for a lil angst, but also a good ending! Thanks for your time! 😋

A/n: couldnt think of a title for this lol

Sonic:

The air was tense as you and Sonic sprint through the field. Chaos erupted around you, explosions lighting up the horizon. Despite everything, Sonic is as confident as ever, his cocky smirk flashing even under pressure.

"Stick close, got it?" he calls back to you, his voice full of determination.

You nod, staying close to his side as enemies close in. Everything happens too quickly. An attack is launched, a projectile racing toward him, and without thinking, you dive in front of him.

The impact sends you sprawling to the ground, pain shooting through your side. Blood stains your clothes, but your focus isn't on yourself.

"Sonic!" you cry out, scrambling to your feet despite the pain. You reach for him, panic filling your chest. "Are you okay? Did you get hit?"

Sonic is frozen for a moment, his usual bravado wiped away as his gaze locks on your injury. "Y-You're the one bleeding, not me!" He kneels beside you, his hands hovering awkwardly as if afraid to hurt you more.

"I'm fine!" you insist, brushing his concern away. "Are you hurt? You looked like-"

"You're not fine!" he snaps, his voice breaking slightly. "Why would you do something so reckless?!" His usual speed is nothing compared to how quickly he scoops you up, holding you as gently as possible.

"It's no big deal," you mumble, your vision blurring slightly.

"It’s a huge deal," Sonic mutters, guilt heavy in his voice. "I... I should’ve been faster. Don’t scare me like that again, okay?"

He rushes you to safety, refusing to let go until Tails patches you up, his usual confidence replaced by an uneasy tension, even after the mission ends.

Shadow:

The mission had gone sideways faster than either of you expected. You and Shadow were surrounded, energy blasts raining down from all directions. Shadow barked orders, his voice steady and commanding.

"Stay behind me," he muttered, moving in to take the brunt of the attacks.

But when a deadly shot targets him from behind, you don't hesitate. You throw yourself in its path, gritting your teeth as the attack strikes you.

Shadow turns just in time to see you fall to your knees, your face twisted in pain.

"Idiot!" he snaps, rushing to your side. He kneels, his gloved hands gripping your shoulders as he inspects the damage. "What were you thinking?"

"Are you okay?" you ask breathlessly, ignoring his anger as you reach for him. "You're not hurt, right?"

His eyes narrow, his jaw tightening. "You’re bleeding, and you’re asking if I’m okay?"

You offer a smile, trying to downplay the situation. "I couldn’t let you get hurt. You’re more important."

For a moment, Shadow doesn’t say anything, his expression unreadable. Then, with surprising gentleness, he pulls you against him, his arms encircling you protectively.

"You’re reckless, and an absolute idiot." he mutters. "But... thank you."

He carries you to safety without another word, his movements careful, his gaze lingering on you. Later, as you recover, he stays close.

Silver:

You and Silver are deep in enemy territory, fighting side by side. His telekinetic powers are keeping most threats at bay, but it’s clear he’s straining to maintain control.

"Watch out!" he shouts as an attack heads your way.

You don’tSilver, you just act. You shove him aside, the blast hitting you squarely in the chest. The pain is immediate, sharp and searing, but you manage to stay on your feet.

"Are you okay?" you ask, your voice trembling as you turn to him.

Silver’s eyes are wide with horror as he sees the blood staining your outfit. "Am I okay? You just- why would you do that?!" His voice cracks as he grabs your shoulders, his hands shaking.

"You could’ve gotten hurt," you say simply. "I couldn’t let that happen."

Tears well up in his eyes, his expression a mix of guilt and frustration. "But now you’re hurt because of me! I was supposed to protect you!"

"You did your best," you reassure him, your voice soft despite the pain.

Silver shakes his head, his grip tightening. "It’s not enough. You’re too important to me."

His powers flare as he gently lifts you with his telekinesis, cradling you in an invisible embrace. He carries you to safety, murmuring apologies and promises to never let you get hurt again. Afterward, he rarely lets you out of his sight, more determined than ever.

[fangswbenefits]

Obsession

Summary: Miguel tries to convince himself that his obsession with you was justified, but fails miserably as you spend the night over.

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader

18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Inexperienced reader. Breeding kink. Sexual tension and frustration. Reader has nipple piercings.

Previous parts: 1 & 2 (you may enjoy this one separately, but might miss out on some context)

Miguel tried to convince himself that adding a mic to your digital suit was purely for safety purposes.

He really did try.

But he couldn’t keep from listening in when you first wore it on your way to the spider cafeteria.

He had just briefed a squad and was monitoring Nueva York through a multitude of hovering screens, as he stood on his platform.

Tapping quickly on the flickering surface, he was able to zoom in on you through the ceiling cameras.

You looked absolutely breathtaking.

The suit fit you like a glove and left little to the imagination. He was proud of his work. You deserved wearing something of his for everyone to see.

He saw you approaching a nearby table, taking a seat. In front of you were Jessica Drew and Peter B. Parker with Mayday who greeted you with warm smiles.

The sound of your voice echoed through the walls around him, as you extended your arms.

“Mayday! Baby! It’s so good to see you!”

The little girl broke into a giggle and began wriggling forward on Peter’s lap to reach you.

You promptly took her in your arms. “Did you miss me? Did you?” your voice was slight high-pitched and you wiggled your fingers, tickling her. “Oh, I have a present for her.”

“Really? That’s so nice of you,” Peter beamed.

“I don’t have it here, but I think she’ll love it,” you said, patting Mayday’s back lightly, earning a genuine hug from her.

Miguel felt his heart clench violently.

You were a natural with kids.

You were just too good to be true and he felt his hands clench tightly.

Would he ever be able to have you? To make you yearn for him? To breed you? To have children with you?

“Wait, is that a… digital suit?” Jessica’s voice cracked through the mic.

You had your back turned to him, so he couldn’t see your face, but he felt the warmth in your voice as you spoke, “It sure is!”

He groaned lowly.

There you were… his sweet girl.

“Who gave it to you?”

“Miguel,” you said with that tenderness he had grown to adore.

He could easily get addicted to you saying his name, and he could only hope that, one day, he might hear it a much more compelling setting.

“Miguel… O’Hara?”

You nodded.

From the screen he could see her exchanging looks with Peter.

“It looks really cool!” Peter smiled enthusiastically, inspecting your sleeves. “Wish he’d offer me one, too.”

Jessica chuckled. “Well, I’ve been here with him for months and he’s never given me one.”

Jessica…

It was to be expected. She was no fool. He had scouted her precisely because she was anything but that.

You had been recruited only three weeks ago, but the hold you had on him was tight. He had never felt this way before with someone else.

You straightened in your seat, as Mayday nibbled on your thumb. “Wait… do you think I should give it back?”

Miguel felt his heart jumpstart and panic build inside him.

“No — no! Jessica,” Perer shot her a glare who merely shrugged, before offering you a kind smile. “It looks great on you. Did you pick the colours?”

“Yes! I’m really happy with the final result,” you said, helping Mayday sit at the edge of the table, as you secured her with both hands. “It was his way of showing gratitute.”

Jessica snapped her fingers after taking a sip of her drink. “You’re helping him out with the portals, right?”

“We’re working on portal stabilisation and reduced motion sickness,” you said and he could almost taste the pride and passion in your voice. “We’re making some progress.”

Miguel had gotten used to the random erections you’d awake from him throughout the day. But this one felt particularly painful.

You were so smart and so devoted. He couldn’t even take credit for the progress, because it was mostly just you.

His sweet and clever girl.

He glanced down at the outline of his strained cock, clicking his tongue.

By the time his eyes settled on the monitor, Jessica had walked away momentarily and he saw Peter lean in.

“Hey… are you and Miguel… a thing?”

Miguel froze.

Mayday proceeded to wrap tiny fingers around some of his locks, tugging lightly.

He wish he could have seen your reaction.

“Oh! No! No… we’re just friends,” you quickly said, waving your hands rapidly. “He’s like a mentor to me, really.”

Anger flared inside him. A friend? A mentor? He knew deep down this made absolute sense, but it still made him seething with rage.

Peter didn’t seem all that convinced, but nodded. “Just wondering. He’s not usually this… kind?”

Miguel felt his fangs threaten to emerge as he gritted his teeth.

There had been nothing kind about him building you a suit. He hadn’t done it out of the goodness of his heart.

He wanted to claim you and this had been the easiest and safest way for now.

“Well, I know he’s a grumpy,” you chuckled with a shrug, as you patted Mayday on the back. “Maybe he’s changing?”

You wouldn’t want him to change. Not really. The level of devotion he had for you was unmatched and nothing you could ever have from someone else.

“Maybe you’re a good influence on him?” Peter concluded, tapping his chin. “As a friend, of course.”

“Peter….” he growled lowly.

“As a friend,” you nodded. “Besides, there’s…” but your voice trailed off.

His erection nearly immediately deflated as dread took over.

There’s what?

He turned up the mic’s volume, but winced instead, as you banged on the table.

You cleared your throat. “Well, gotta go! I have work to do.”

Peter took Mayday back into his lap and chuckled. “Don’t forget her present!”

“I won’t! Wish me luck, though,” you said, crossing your fingers as you started to walk away. “I really need these chips to stop blowing and melting on me!”

“Good luck! Say bye bye, Mayday,” Peter waved his hand, which the little girl promptly mimicked with a giggle.

“Bye, baby!” you beamed.

Miguel had had enough.

He switched off your mic with a tap on his watch.

He really had tried to convince himself that his obsession for you was justified. That is was rooted in more than lust and desire, but he wasn’t so sure anymore.

After you moved to Nueva York, he had you working closely to him on portal stabilisation.

But what had started out as something innocent, soon shifted into something else entirely.

Your company brought him peace and quiet, and ticket his brain just the right way to keep him motivated.

Until it didn’t.

Until you became his torment.

He had let you in his life in the hopes that you let him in yours.

The first time you gave him a boner was when he walked in on you in the lab, wearing nothing but a tank top and a pencil pressed firmly in between your lips, as you moved from screen to screen to check on the update progress.

The worst part? You didn’t even notice how utterly delicious you looked and how he could easily bend you over and take you right there.

No.

You just offered him a sweet smile.

One he hadn’t recovered from ever since.

“Miguel?”

He jolted as the voice snapped him from his torturous thoughts. “What?”

Lyla hovered nearby, eyeing him closely. “Fangs out,” she wiggled her index finger disapprovingly. “Pavitr and Hobie are waiting for you.”

His fangs retracted slowly as he tried to gain his composure back. “Why?”

“Mission?” she quirked an eyebrow.

Right.

“Now?”

“You’re already late.”

He growled, tapping on a few screens hurriedly.

“Oh, and Miguel?”

“What?”

The hologram popped near the screen to his left. “You might want to be more subtle when using her in-suit mic.”

He gave her narrow side-glace. “What do you mean?”

“Just saying,” she said, adjusting her heart-shapped glasses. “You’re not the only tech savvy spider here.”

The door to his apartment swung open at once, and he stepped inside ready to decompress from the tiresome mission.

He had made plans with some of your audio recordings and his hand, hoping that would be enough to easy the pent-up tension that had been looming over year throughout the way.

It was a less than ideal situation, but would have to do for now.

That was until he noticed his living room was lit.

Pacing rapidly he was met with you.

In the middle of a pile of papers and electronic components scattered around the floor, he saw you sitting cross-legged with a pencil danging from your lips, his digital suit clinging tightly to your body.

“What are you doing here?”

Your bead snapped in his direction and the pencil tumbled to the floor. “Miguel! Lyla let me in.”

He was rooted in place.

Had it been someone else, he would have flung them through the window with no warning.

But you weren’t just someone.

And Lyla wouldn’t have let someone else enter his apartment, either.

“It’s quite late,” he said, pacing carefully toward you as not to step on anything. “You could have called me.”

You waved a hand dismissively and held a circular metallic object in the other. “Catch!”

Before he could say anything back, you had tossed it in his direction, which he quickly grabbed in between his fingers.

“Found what was wrong with it,” you smiled proudly. “It was stupid of me, really. There wasn’t any thermal paste in it. That’s why it kept blowing up.”

Miguel stared at the chip in his hand and blinked a few times.

“I assumed you were using it from the start,” he said, inspecting the cross section.

You rose to your feet in an instant and joined his site, excitement spilling from you. “These ion batteries should not require thermal paste — not for this amount of energy, at least. But yeah… my bad,” you said, rubbing the back of your neck.

Miguel locked eyes with yours and felt a familiar tingle in his body.

Fuck.

You were just so ridiculously attractive, and he wish he could hear you ramble about tech and science for hours.

“This is really, really good news,” he said genuinely, handing the chip back to you.

He squeezed your arm lightly as encouragement, knowing fully well he should be rewarding you in other ways.

His sweet girl…

You darted back to the floor, gathering some papers. “Sorry for the mess. I just had to figure this out and couldn’t sleep.”

A scientist at heart, you were.

Blood began to rush to his groin in no time. It couldn’t be helped. His body had been so on edge to finally fuck you, that it was in this permanent state of arousal around you.

“It’s fine. I still have those moments,” he said softly, crouching to help you out. “Sometimes I can’t sleep, and I have to do something else.”

“Like what?”

“I either go to the lab, or…” I jerk off to the thought of being buried deep inside you, he wanted to say.

You eyed him expectantly, biting your lip lightly, further hardening his cock.

“Well, it’s a bit late,” Miguel eventually said, standing tall. “Maybe you should get back to your apartment?”

He hated himself for even suggesting such option, but he didn’t want to push his luck. You being here would be fuel enough for the rest of the night as he fucked his hand.

“Oh, you just got back from a mission,” you fought back a yawn, tossing your backpack over your shoulder. “I’ll just leave.”

Miguel nodded, but was crumbling inside.

Your face lit up again. “But this was great, right?”

Please stay.

“You did great,” he said with a short smile. “Go get some rest.”

Please…

You made your way down the hall and waved at him. “See you in the morning, Miguel.”

He should have let you go.

But something took over him, before he could fight it back.

“Actually, you could stay. It’s nearly four in the morning,” he tried to sound as casual as possible, but the excitement was hard to contain. “And we have to head back to the lab early.”

You turned around and he stopped breathing.

Too much?

Then he the backpack slide down your arm, hittingbthe floor with a thud. “Oh, thank you! I really didn’t feel like swinging back to my apartment,” you voice held pure gratitude and he felt his ego soar. “Only… I don’t have any clothes.”

He shook his head as realisation hit him. “Right. Wait here.”

“Okay~”

Bolting into his room, he went through his closet, fetching a shirt and a robe.

But before heading out, he decided to change into some sweatpants and a shirt himself.

His erection welcomed the looser material, and he’d be able to better conceal it from you.

Taking a final look at his cock, Miguel decided to give it a few pumps as if trying to calm it down.

He couldn’t believe his luck.

He couldn’t believe his sweet girl would be so close to him in his clothes and apartment.

And bed.

As he exited the room and handed the clothes to you, he cleared his throat. “You can take my bed.”

You looked up at him. “Oh… no, Miguel. You just came back from a mission.”

“I’m not that tired. Just take it.”

Please.

“Are you sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Anything that was his was yours. He would give it all to you.

“Be right back,” you said, before disappearing into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

He immediately sighed in relief, adjusting his cock, feeling the first beads of precum spill from the tip.

How was he to survive this?

Not long after, you emerged again.

He glanced over at the length of you, taking in the sight of his shirt and robe on you. Your legs were still covered with the digital suit, but you looked absolutely ready to be devoured.

But he couldn’t do it.

Not yet.

His cock twitched in his pants, yearning to be inside you.

Then something else caught his attention when his moved up your body.

It couldn’t be…

Two symmetrical protuberances poked through the fabric of your shirt — his shirt.

“Are those…” his voice faltered momentarily, not trusting his own eyes.

You followd his line of sight and giggled. “Oh! Yeah. Got them pierced way back. Wanted to defy my dad and got them out of spite,” you went on, adjusting the fabric of the shirt under the robe. “But eventually kept them. They look cute.”

Cute?

Miguel was at a loss for words.

Your voice mixed with your carefree posture sent jolts directly into his cock.

“I…” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I didn’t notice them before,” he said, feeling his mouth run dry.

“I was wearing a bra,” you replied with a shrug and a tender smile.

This was almost comically painful.

You were the closest thing he had ever known to innocence as of late. Yet here you stood, wearing just his shirt, no bra, and with your pierced nipples poking through his shirt.

But none of that seemed to matter to you.

You were completely oblivious of how painfully hard he was for you.

“Did it hurt?”

“Terribly,” you said, still glacing down at your breasts and hardened nipples. “But I think it’s worth it.”

The adorable way in which you said it was almost driving him insane.

Just how innocent could one person be…

Before he could even process his thoughts, he spoke, “Can I…”

Your eyes met his and Miguel feared he had now fucked it up for good.

Brilliant, Miguel…

“Oh, you mean… you want to see them?”

Should he back down and just deny his intentions?

“You’ve never seen nipple piercings before?”

He shook his head.

Just as he was about to tell you to forget it, you lifted his shirt, revealing your breasts to him.

He nearly exploded right there and then.

“Oh, please!” she giggled. “We’re people of science, and you haven’t seen this before. Science is all about curiosity and discovery.”

Miguel, however, wasn’t listening to any of that and felt as though he was hypnotised. He could tear his eyes away from your perky nipples and the metal rods that went through them, a tiny spider danging from each of them.

He wasn’t sure when or how he had got so close to you, but he lifted his hand to touch one.

His cock twitched violently and he felt his mind hazy with lust.

“They’re cool, right?” you beamed, allowing him to swipe the pad of his thumb across the tiny spider.

“Yeah.”

Really ‘cool’.

More precum dripped from his tip and had to fight back his fangs from slipping out.

He wanted to bend over and dart his tongue out to play with them. He wanted to tug on them and wanted you to arch your back with a soft moan.

You pulled down the shirt again and he flinched his hand back instantly, swallowing hard.

“So… if — when you have a baby and want to breastfeed… will there be an issue?”

Of course his need to breed you had to surface at the worst possible time.

But he had to know. He needed to know if that would be a nuisance. He couldn’t take any risks and he wanted you completely ready to carry his children.

You shrugged, adjusting the robe around you. “I wasn’t thinking that far ahead when I got them, but I suppose I just have to take them out.”

He nodded, taking a few steps back.

You stretched out with a yawn. “Mind if I go to sleep now?”

“Of course,” he nodded.

You were about to whirl on your feet, but decided against it. “How do you say ‘thank you’ in Spanish?”

That caught him off guard and his eyes widened. “Gracias.”

Then you gave him the sweetest smile. “Gracias, Miguel.

He could cum just from this alone.

How he would teach you the filthiest things in Spanish… how he would whisper them in your ear, knowing fully well you couldn’t understand a word…

You then slipped into his room and closed the door.

He ran both hands through his hair, wanting to let out a scream.

The things he wanted to do to you…

The things you deserved done to you…

He brought one hand down to tug at his waistband, revealing his soaked cock.

Then he bit the back of his other hand.

Hard.

He didn’t even care if he drew blood.

He couldn’t take this anymore.

Engulfed with overwhelming frustration, he pressed his forehead against the tall window that overlooked Nueva York.

He had to calm down, or else he’d have to synthesise a serum to lower his levels of testosterone…

He had to find a way to stop.

As minutes ticked by, he decided to check your bio readings on his watch. Your heart rate had lowered significantly, indicating him you were now asleep.

The predator in him took control again and he paced towards his bedroom, opening the door just enough to check on you.

Fast asleep.

He walked in with careful steps, finally taking in the sight of you on his bed.

The floor-to-ceiling windows allowed for the faintest moonlight to be cast on you.

He felt his heart was about to implode as he drew near, slowly sitting by the edge of the mattress.

You lay on your back, breathing evenly and covered up to your waist with a blanket.

Miguel took a deep and shaky breath.

You smelled of him and his bedsheets smelled of you.

Such a powerful and dangerous combination, that he almost considered gripping his cock.

Bur decided against it.

Instead, he say there, staring at you, absorbing every single detail of your body.

His hand twitched as an itch took over it.

An itch he had to scratch.

He reached out to graze the back of one finger along your forearm, feeling your warmth coating his skin.

His sweet girl…

His imagination ran wild and he had hoped he could have fucked you to sleep, not sliding out of you, making sure you’d take his seed.

Pain swallowed him whole as despair settled.

What if he never managed to make you his?

What if you decided you wanted nothing more than a friendship?

How could he cope?

Suddenly, you flinched and rolled to your side and heaved a deep sigh. “Oh, Tom…”

Miguel was left petrified and his blood ran cold.

Who the fuck was Tom?

Part 4

Masterlist

[peppermint-toads]

adam sackler coded simon riley is plaguing my thoughts

simon ghost riley who starts out as your fuck buddy. you would swing by his flat when you were in the neighborhood, not leaving until he’d thoroughly fucked your brains out.

his flat was a twilight zone. he was always working on some new woodworking project. the entire place was a fucking safety hazard his neighbors must hate him.

you knew he didn’t sleep well. on the nights where he didn’t complain about your staying over, he revealed to you how he has trouble sleeping. you didn’t say much to that, just pressed your chest up against his back and spooned him, scratching your nails over his scalp.

he never complained about your extended stays after that.

in fact, he got a little needy. usually, you felt like the one intruding into his space, but lately he’s been asking you to come by. he never expressly asked, but you saw through his texts.

“you in the neighborhood?”

“send a text to—siri, operate! jesus fuck—”

*incoming call from simon*

anyways, one night you’re both invited to the same warehouse party by johnny. you honestly did not expect to see simon at a warehouse rave of all places. johnny, of course, fit right in.

you spot simon from across the hazy dance floor, leaning on the bar and taking occasional drinks from his beer. you’d never seen him anywhere besides his bedroom. it was kind of comforting to know he actually did exist beyond the walls of his home.

you smile, can’t help the laugh that spills from your throat. he seems to be at peace with himself, so you decide to leave him be for now.

you dance, for the first time in a long, long time. song after song plays, and you progressively get more lost in yourself and the liquor.

you’re pulled from your trance with a harsh tug to your arm. suddenly, simon is towering over you and leaning down to yell into your ear.

“wanna go down to the beach with me?”

you shrug. alright. why not. you need some fresh air, anyways. it’s getting a bit too stuffy in here.

you trust simon as he guides your warm, pliant body to the dock. the beach isn’t pretty, not many of those in the uk, but it gets the job done. besides, you’re too caught up in watching simon be simon to pay any mind.

he was inspecting a giant hunk of washed up wood, maybe he could use it for one of his projects. maybe he’d make you something one day.

“simon, wanna go back to yours?”

he grunts. you’ve known him long enough to know that is a no grunt. your buzz is wearing off and now you’re irritated. fine. maybe johnny is up for some fun.

you shove yourself up from where you’re sitting, promptly beginning your march back to wherever the fuck it is you’ve come from.

“where exactly are you going?”

so now he speaks. great.

“somewhere else!”

you shout back at him, already having put a considerable distance between the two of you.

“what do you want from me?” he shouts back, clearly agitated. “want me to be your fucking boyfriend? is that what you want?”

“yeah!” you scream.

“okay! i’ll be your fucking boyfriend!”

it feels childish, this back and forth. considering the two of you are fully developed adults, but it’s seemingly the only way you two could effectively communicate.

[mzzledmutt]

—GOOD DOG

starring.ᐟ dabi; touya todoroki x reader

synopsis.ᐟ you are a good dog, a good dog does whatever they're asked to do. isn't that right?

warnings.ᐟ SMUT, fem!reader, boot licking, boot worship, unprotected vaginal sex, d/s dynamics, excessive use of mutt + dog, degradation, praise, oral (m + f receiving), spanking, overstimulation, edging, multiple orgasms, collar + leash

word count.ᐟ 3.1k words

m.mutt 𐂯 this is a little nasty, i had an idea.

THERE’S no reason to look up.

You can feel the cruel, cerulean scowl staring down at your knelt, pathetic form. You don’t dare look up. Keeping your eyes focused on your hands which rested upon your thighs.

The concrete floors beneath you already beginning to bruise your delicate skin. Dabi is standing before you, the only thing in your sight is his heavy leather boots. The room is silent, only making you more unnerved.

“Eyes up.” Slowly, your head raises until you make eye contact. Dabi is clearly unpleased with you. His jaw is tense, eyes narrowed as he looks down at you. “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” His ragged voice is full of ice, something you expected.

Two weeks ago, on a Tuesday, Dabi suddenly brought up a mission. It was too casual, just relaxing on the couch before the announcement. You’re quick to begin crying, hugging around his waist as you plead with him. He doesn’t care for your cries.

Only rubbing your back with a roll of his eyes. “You act like ‘m not comin’ back.” He grumbled. He gave you the week to spend as much time with him and last Monday, it was time. He stood in the entryway, holding you close to his chest. Your fingers gripped his shirt, feeling as if he’d slip away at any moment.

With a final kiss to your forehead, Touya pulls away. “It’s only a week, dollface. I’ll be back.” Before he leaves, he runs down the list of rules he always gave you whenever he had to go.

Rule one, you were to stay in the apartment, it was too dangerous for you to be outdoors. This wasn’t a constant rule, you were allowed out alone and with company while he was home. While away, he couldn’t risk anyone getting ahold of you.

Rule two, you were to give him daily updates, at least four times a day. Although he has many ways to ensure your safety, it gives him a warmth in his chest when you send him a good morning text, describing your dream and how much you miss him.

Rule three, you were not to open the door for anyone. This rule had a few exceptions. Hawks and the league had specific knocks to confirm their identities. They were the only ones you were allowed to let in or speak to.

Rule four, you were to stay away from the ended and social media while he was away. Mainly his way of ensuring you don’t see any of the atrocities he may commit. 

Rule five, you were not allowed to touch yourself. No toys, no fingers, no pornography. Nothing.

He was incredibly disappointed when inspecting his cameras in a run-down motel room. Watching as your hips twitched and ground against a pillow, sugary moans spilling off of your lips.

The same disappointment was all over his face. “I’m sorry—!” His rough hand grabs your cheeks, startling you. “Did I ask you to speak?” You shake your head, eyes welling with tears. “So, why’re ya’ talking, dog?” You stay silent, pout on your lips and tears in your eyes.

His icy blue eyes scan over your face, smirking when he locks with your watery eyes. Your face is forced to the side as he pushes you away. “I do everything for you. Everything to keep you safe and you can’t follow one simple fuckin’ rule.”

Dabi crouched down to pick up the heavy chain attached to your matching collar. He tugs you hard, throwing you off your balance as you’re forced to crawl behind him. You’re led to your bedroom where he sits on a chair and you stay on your knees.

He clears his throat, shuffling in his seat. You look up at him wide-eyed, awaiting your order. “You’re gonna work for my cock, you understand that?” You nod. “Speak up.”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good, doggy.”

“Now, get to work.” Dabi pushes his right boot forward. You look up at him, unsure if you were misreading his command. He tilts his head down, wordlessly awaiting your obedience. Slowly, you lean further down to the floor.

The scent of earthiness, metal, and leather fills your nose. He adorned thick, black leather, steel-toed boots. Your personal favorite in his collection. The boots were intimidating on the man, making him appear taller and much rougher.

You're hesitant as you stick your tongue out, slowly swiping across the material. “Good, doggy. Keep goin’.” His praises encourage you, allowing you to become more comfortable as your tongue laps at the leather.

Dabi's expression hasn’t changed since he entered, his eyes only softened as he watched you clean his leather. His left hand creeping to squeeze his hardening cock, throbbing beneath his jeans.

“This is where you belong, isn’t it? On your knees with my boot in your mouth.” You stare at him wide-eyed. “I asked you a question.” The chain is pulled taut, squeezing your collar around your throat.

“Yes! This is where I belong, sir.” You cry out, at the sudden asphyxiation. 

You’re focused on pleasing him, trying to force away the dull throb in your panties. Tongue dragging across ash and blood, spit shining the black leather. “Off it.” You stop with a whine, sitting back on your haunches. 

You pull away, a trail of spit stuck to the leather and your lips. “Oh, look at you. S’fuckin’ pretty.” Dabi caresses your cheek before hooking his thumb into your mouth. You suck in the digit, holding blurred eye contact as your tears continue to flow. A taunting smirk is spread over his scarred lips.

“Stop your cryin’, mutt. I’ve hardly done anything to you.” That was true. Dabi could be much meaner if he truly wanted to be, he was just toying with you for a moment. Relishing in the tears that roll down your chubby cheeks.

“I want you to ride it. Take those pretty panties off and ride my fuckin’ boot.” You follow his orders, slipping the soaked fabric down your thighs and off onto the floor. Dabi’s hand cradles your cheek so he can watch your fave contort in pleasure as your clit makes contact.

Your hips twitch as you whimper, your hands gripping his hips to balance yourself. “M’yeah?” Dabi teases. Your hips swivel along the boot, stimulating your throbbing clit. Sharp quick pants leave your parted lips as you mindlessly hump the leather.

Drool beginning to spill from your lips, dribbling onto the denim-clad thigh of Dabi. “Pleasepleasepleaseplease—“ Your absentminded pleas force Dabi to unzip his jeans, pulling his cock out from his boxers. He slowly strokes himself, scarred hand languidly moving up and down.

“You like this don’t you? You love bein’ a disgusting dog f’me.” You nod quickly, your grip on him tightening. “Yes! Yes, I love being your dog, Dabi!” He chuckles at your enthusiasm before groaning as he nudges his piercing.

Your cunt’s slick, slipping easily if the material as wanton moans freely leave you. You’re getting close, the knot in your stomach becoming something you can’t ignore. Hips stuttering, nails digging into his skin and your chest heaving, Dabi knew you were teetering on the edge.

He just wanted to see what you would do.

Your ministrations don’t stop, only motivated more as you watch him jerk off. You’re so close, if you just add a little more pressure you’ll surely cum. Just a little bit more—

“Off it.” The look on Dabi’s force forces you back to your kneeled position.

You cry out at the lack of stimulation, your poor cunt clenching around nothing. “Look at my good dog. Learnin’ to listen to orders.” Dabi takes his fingers from your mouth, moving to pet your hair.

“While you’re down there, suck my cock, yeah?” He’s so uncaring as he leans back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head. So, your nimble fingers make quick work crawling up his thighs before grabbing his cock.

He hisses at your grip, head tilting back. You lean over his lap, puckering your lips as you spit onto the throbbing head. A sharp groan gets stuck in his throat as you begin stroking him, hands twisting in opposite directions as they slide up and down.

You give him a wild grin, thighs clenching each time he moans. “I said suck it, mutt.” You follow his orders, taking the head between your lips and swirling your tongue around him.

“There you go, baby. Suck that big dick f’me.” The metallic taste of his piercings and the saltiness of precum fills your mouth, encouraging you to take him deeper. You gag around him, spilling tears down your cheeks.

“Good,” His hand comes down to hold your hair, slowly moving you up and down. “You’re doin’ s’good, doggy.” Dabi pants, cursing you under his breath. Your space wasn’t enough for the man, he strengthened the grip on your hair, forcing you further down.

Your nails dig into his skin as you choke on him. Hands slapping against his thighs as he roughly fucks into your throat. “Just like that—fuck! You love it, don’t you? Gaggin’ on my fuckin’ cock.” His voice begins to sound whiney as he reaches his orgasm.

You’re forced all the way down, nose nuzzling his pelvis as he cums. Spilling rope after rope of his cum down your throat, loud groans leaving him. Dabi lets you go, allowing you to pull off quickly as you cough.

Your face is soaked in tears and spit, making you the image of perfection to him. He watches as you pant and cough, catching your breath. “You look so pretty,” Dabi strokes your hair. “You looked s’fuckin’ pretty suckin’ my cock.” He wrenches your head back, roughly tugging on your hair.

“Open.” Your lips greedily part, tongue lolling out as he spits onto it. “Don’t you fuckin’ swallow.” He snarled, pinching your cheeks together. You pull your tongue back into your mouth, salivas mixing on your tongue. “Lay down.” He pats his thigh, readjusting himself to accommodate you.

You play over his lap, head and legs dangling over. Dabi adjusts you in his lap, pulling your ass up for his comfort. A heated hand rubs over the dentin’s skin of your ass. “Such a pretty thing you are.” He grips your ass.

Dabi is quick, lifting his hand from your skin before striking you hard. A muffled shout leaves you, determined to follow his orders. He repeated the motion on the other cheek, not giving you much time to relax.

Smack after smack after smack, your nails are digging into his leg you attempt to stay quiet. The blood is rushing to your head as you hang, making you dizzy from his hits and your position.

Your ass is bright red and sore, a product of his heavy and heated hand. “How ya’ feelin’?” He leans down, entering your peripheral. “Your ass feelin’ okay?” Your eyes are blurry and unfocused, and your body still tense and shaking. “Can’t talk, doggy?” He teases with a laugh.

Dabi sits you up on his lap, holding onto your hips to steady you. “Swallow for me.” You follow his orders, sticking out your tongue to prove so. “Such a good pet, hmm?” He pets your hair, allowing you to keen into his touch.

“Think ya’ deserve my cock now, dollface?” Dabi asks, wiping the tears from your face. “I deserve whatever you give me.” You reply with a sniffle. “That’s what I wanna hear.” The dark-haired man pulls you in for a kiss, allowing you to wrap your arms around his neck.

The kiss is sloppy, full of spit and tongue. Dabi’s hands wander from your face down to your bruised ass, pinching at the sensitive skin. Your pained moans against his lips make his cock throb, leaking pre cum against his stomach.

In a smooth motion, Dabi lifts you into his arms and stands to his feet, carrying you over to the bed. You’re dropped unceremoniously, only for his lips to travel down your chin to your neck then your collarbones.

He unclips the chain from your collar, dropping it to the floor before attending to your breast. His tender kisses to your soft breast are interrupted as he bites, leaving a perfect imprint of his soft teeth. Dabi grins at you as his tongue lolls out to soothe the skin. His skillful tongue swirls around your nipples before he sucks the bud between his lips.

Your back arches in pleasure, hips bucking in desperation. He sinfully moans around your nipple, teeth grazing the hardened nub causing you to shiver. “P-please, Dabi.” Your pleading is nearly silent, voice just above a whisper.

The stark contrast of his warm mouth to the cool room is jarring. Dabi pulls away, straddling your waist as he looks down upon you. “What was that, I didn’t hear you?” The man taunts. “Dabi, please…” You pout, grabbing at his arm. He smacks your hands away, dismounting your body.

Before you can question what he was doing, you’re flipped onto your stomach, effectively disorienting you. His hands are all over you, positioning the way he wants you to be. Ass up, face down with a beautiful arch in your back. Dabi smacks your ass, admiring his work.

Your pretty soaked cunt was on full display, dripping sweet nectar down your plush thighs. “Now,” Dabi straddles your legs, positing himself behind you. “Speak up, tell me what you want.” 

Your whines are muffled by the blanket. “I can’t hear you.” He chides as he lifts your head from the mattress. “Please, I need it so badly. I was only touching myself because I missed you, I’m sorry for disobeying you!” 

“That’s a good pet.” The tip of his heavy pierced cock nudges against your dripping cunt. “So fuckin’ soaked already,” He groans pressing the head in. “Shit, baby. Take it f’me, you can do that yeah?” Tears prick your eyes again as he pushes further in, your tight heat stretching to accommodate his size.

He continues to sink his thick cock into your warm, wet walls. Stretching you out to fit him snugly. You yelp as the head of his cock smacks into your cervix, the dull pain spreading through your pelvis and stomach.

You grip the sheets, attempting to pull yourself away. “Don’t fuckin’ run from me.” Dabi rasps, gripping your waist and pulling you back. “Fuuuuck!” Your eyes roll back as you squirm in his grip. “You wanted this, take it.”

Dabi’s pace is quick, not giving you a chance to adjust. He’s pounding into you, nails digging 

“Been gone for a week and you're that like a fuckin’ virgin? She missed me that bad?” He pants, leaning over your back. “Y-yes yes, I missed you so fucking much!” A hard smack is landed across your already aching ass.

“I’m not talkin’ to you, mutt.” Dabi spat, smacking the other cheek, relishing in how you clenched around him. “I’m talkin’ to this sinful fuckin’ pussy. Creamin’ ‘round my cock.” Your slick sounds of his cock pistoning into your cunt was sickening.

The rigged feeling of his piercings pleasantly rubs against your g-spot. “Greedy little cunt couldn’t wait to get some dick, now you have it and you wanna run?” Your hands reach back to push against his stomach, begging him to be gentle to your aching pussy.

Dabi grabs your wrist, pinning them back and pulling you back to him. He rests his chin against your shoulder as he thrusts into your core in this new position. “Oh my god,” Your drawl, head rolling to the side. “You’re so fuckin’ deep.”

He breathily chuckles against your ear, your moans music to his ears. “What do ya’ say?” His hand coming up to cup your breast. “Thank you, Dabi.” You sputter between strained moans.

“Nuh uh, what’s my name?” Dabi huffs against your ear, nipping at the cartilage. “Th-thank you, sir!” You sob, bowing against him. “That’s a good, pet.”

His thrusts increase, heavy balls smacking against your ass. The splitting feeling of him inside makes your cunt throb, and your poor aching clit twitches with neglect. You were getting close again, orgasm soon approaching with his harsh thrusts.

“Shit—please! I can’t, sluh—fuck! Slow down!” You cry and he lets you go, forcing your face into the mattress. “Ya’ gonna cum? Huh? Awww poor baby, who said you couldn’t do that?” He leans over you mercilessly thrusts abusing your dripping hole.

“Nonono—please! Been s’good, I wanna cum!” The words are muffled but, the message is clear. He only taunts you further, reaching down to play with your clit. “Mmm’not yet.” 

“Wanna—shit—feel you clench on me some more. This tight cunt is fuckin’ addicting.” Dabi’s orgasm was approaching, his balls tightening as he continued his pace. “I’ll let ya’ know when you can, just enjoy it for now.”

Your walls flutter around him as his thumb circles your clit, pressing on the nub to feel your twitch against him.

“Shit—‘m gonna cum, pretty. Gonna breed this pretty cunt, you like that?” You nod, pleasure rendering you unable to speak. Dabi doesn’t punish you, too focused on pumping you full of his cum.

“You want me to breed this pretty cunny, don’t you? Make you mama, hah?” His teeth graze your shoulder before his tongue laps at the skin. 

“C’mon, cum for me, pretty. Be a good dog f’me and cum.” He growls as he bottoms out in you. A ragged groan leaves the man as he cums, spilling rivulets of cum into your awaiting womb. You cum with him, overstimulation setting in quickly from being denied for so long.

Your body spasms as he lays over you, bodies now against the mattress. He’s buried deep within you, still twitching and pumping you full of his seed. You’re delirious, eyes hazy and stuffed too full to comprehend your surroundings.

You’re left panting and sweaty, too tired to get up and move. Eventually, Dabi pulls out, whistling at the stream of white that drips out of you. He spreads your ass, dipping down to lap at your cunt. “Baby, no…” You whine with overstimulation.

His tongue delves into your holes, dripping up the mixtures of both of your arousals. Dabi licks a stripe up from your cunt to your asshole, pulling away with a smile. “God, you taste so good, baby.” You’re still limp against the bed, tired from his pounding.

“We should,” Dabi takes a deep breath. “We should clean up.” He presses a kiss to your shoulder. “You did so good. You only ever act right when I’m mean to you, huh?” You mumble something unintelligible making him laugh. He rolls off of you, pulling you to play on his scarred chest.

Your eyes are shut, breathing slowly to regulate yourself. He gently strokes your hair, smiling down at you.

“Such a good dog for me.”

[teh-tj]

Greenbelt Maryland. Or, how America almost solved housing only to abandon it.

**I AM NOT AN EXPERT! I AM JUST AN ENTHUSIST! DO NOT TREAT MY OPINIONS/SPECULATION AS EDUCATION!**

During the Depression America faced a housing crisis that rhymes with but differs from our own. It’s different in that there wasn’t a supply issue, there were loads of houses in very desirable areas, but they were still unaffordable as people’s incomes collapsed causing a deflationary spiral. While the housing supply subtly grew and succeeded demand, people simply couldn’t pay the meager rents and mortgages. Herbert Hoover failed to manage the Depression, while his inaction is greatly exaggerated, his policy of boosting the economy with works projects and protecting banks from runs failed and the depression only got more pronounced in his term. In comes Franklin Roosevelt, a progressive liberal much like his distant and popular cousin/uncle-in-law Teddy. Franklin’s plan was to create a large safety net for people to be able to be economically viable even if they’re otherwise poor. These reforms are called the New Deal and they did many controversial things like giving disabled and retired people welfare, giving farmers conditioned subsidies to manipulate the price of food, a works program to build/rebuild vital infrastructure, etc. One of these programs was the USHA (a predecessor of America’s HUD), an agency created to build and maintain public housing projects with the goal of creating neighborhoods with artificially affordable rents so people who work low-wage jobs or rely on welfare can be housed.

In this spirit, the agency started experimenting with new and hopefully efficient housing blueprints and layouts. If you ever see very large apartment towers or antiquated brick low-rise townhouses in America, they might be these. The USHA bought land in many large and medium-sized cities to build “house-in-park” style apartments, which is what they sound like. Putting apartment buildings inside green spaces so residents can be surrounded by greenery and ideally peacefully coexist. Three entire towns were built with these ideas outside three medium-sized cities that were hit hard by the depression; Greenbelt outside DC, Greenhills outside Cincinnati, and Greendale outside Milwaukee. The idea was to move people out of these crowded cities into these more sustainable and idyllic towns. There were many catches though, the USHA planned for these towns to be all-white, they used to inspect the houses for cleanliness, they required residents to be employed or on Social Security (which basically meant retired or disabled), they also had an income limit and if your income exceeded that limit you were given a two-month eviction notice, and you were expected to attend town meetings at least monthly. While the towns didn’t have religious requirements they did only build protestant churches. Which is an example of discrimination by omission. While a Catholic, Jew, Muslim, etc could in theory move into town they also couldn’t go to a Catholic church, synagogue, or Islamic center without having to extensively travel. Things planned communities leave out might indicate what kind of people planned communities want to leave out. Basically, the whole thing was an experiment in moving Americans into small direct-democracy suburbs as opposed to the then-current system of crowded cities and isolated farm/mine towns. This type of design wasn’t without precedent, there were famously company towns like Gary and Pullman which both existed outside Chicago. But those lacked the autonomy and democracy some USHA apparatchiks desired.

The green cities were a series of low-rise apartments housing over a hundred people each, they were short walks from a parking lot and roads, and walking paths directly and conveniently led residents to the town center which had amenities and a shopping district. Greenbelt in particular is famous for its art deco shopping complex, basically an early mall where business owners would open stores for the townspeople. These businesses were stuck being small, given the income requirements, but it was encouraged for locals to open a business to prove their entrepreneurial spirit. Because city affairs were elected at town meetings the city was able to pull resources to eventually build their own amenities the USHA didn’t originally plan for like a public swimming pool or better negotiated garbage collection.

These three cities were regarded as a success by the USHA until World War II happened and suddenly they showed flaws given the shift in focus. These towns housed poor people who barely if at all could afford a car, so semi-isolated towns outside the city became redundant and pointless. The USHA also had to keep raising the income requirement since the war saw a spike in well-paying jobs which made the town unsustainable otherwise. During the war and subsequent welfare programs to help veterans, these green cities became de facto retirement and single-mother communities for a few years as most able-bodied men were drafted or volunteered. Eventually, the USDA would make the towns independent, after the war they raised the income limit yet again and slowly the towns repopulated. As cars became more common and suburbanization became a wider trend these towns would be less noticeably burdensome and were eventually interpreted as just three out of hundreds of small suburban towns that grew out of major cities. They were still all-white and the town maintained cleanliness requirements; after all they lived in apartments it just takes one guy’s stink-ass clogged toilet to ruin everyone’s day.

By the 1950’s these towns were fully independent. Greendale and Greenhills voted to privatize their homes and get rid of the income limit all together so the towns can become more normal. Greenhills, Ohio still has many of these USHA-era houses and apartments, all owned by a series of corporations and private owners. Greendale, Wisconsin property owners have demolished most of these old houses and restructured their town government so most traces of its founding are lost. But Greenbelt, Maryland still maintains a lot of its structure to this day. Greenbelt has privatized some land and buildings, but most of the original USHA apartments are owned by the Greenbelt Homes, Inc cooperative which gives residents co-ownership of the building they live in and their payments mostly go to maintenance. Because Greenbelt was collectively owned the House Un-American Activities Committee would blacklist and put on trial most of Greenbelt’s residents and officials. Though they didn’t find much evidence of communist influence, the town was a target of the red scare by the DMV area, residents were discriminated, blacklisted, and pressured into selling their assets. While Greenbelt did commodify some of the town, the still existing co-ownership shows the town’s democratic initiative to maintain its heritage. The green cities desegregated in the 50’s and 60’s depending on state law, Greenbelt was the last to desegregate under the Civil Rights Act of 1964, while discrimination persisted for years by the 1980’s the town would become half non-white, today the town is 47% black and 10% Asian.

Though these towns largely integrated with a privatized and suburbanized America, they do stand as a memorial to an idea of American urbanism that died. They were designed for walkability and were planned to be more democratic and egalitarian towns, with the conditions that came with segregation and government oversight. You can’t ignore the strict standards and racism in their history, but you can say that about many towns. How do you think America would be different if more cities had green suburbs that were more interconnected and designed for community gatherings?

[2kiran]

“ 𝐊 𝐈 𝐋 𝐋 𝐒 𝐇 𝐎 𝐓 ”

pairing keegan p. russ x you genre smut reader is a male. dom!reader x sub!keegan cw uppercase typing. enemy reader. gun kink. facefucking. humiliation. handjob.

you’ve never expected that keegan, out of all people, would be into that.

Keegan P. Russ, a well-respected Sergeant and Scout Sniper of the Ghosts. He lived up to his title, his experience on the battlefield providing him positive support throughout his years in the military. A man of many things. Strong and intelligent. Never one to step out of line.

Keegan P. Russ, a man who was proficient in his work field. He was intimidating. Never one to cower in face of missions. He was suited for a respectable leader. His strength and accomplishments gaining praise from higher and lower ranks alike. The air around his presence of an authority’s.

Keegan P. Russ, an embarrassed man who was currently on his knees. The expression of shame on his face hidden by his signature mask. The same one that was once drenched in multiple enemy combatants’ blood now concealing the creeping warmth on his cheeks.

“Don’t tell me you’re backing out.”

He huffed in annoyance at your teasing words. “I’m not.” He wanted to. He really did. This was humiliating, both to his pride and to his reputation. He’d rather fucking die than to be caught in this predicament because of you. “Are you sure?” You leaned back, resting against the couch.

“I mean, I’m not saying that you can’t handle this. But don’t you feel a little conscious?” You shrugged, not waiting for a response, “Not even for your reputation?” A hint of a smirk playing on your lips as you watched his growing anger in the form of his balled fists. It was amusing to see the Keegan P. Russ crumble in need. Even worse, for his enemy.

“Shut the fuck up.” He gritted his teeth.

“Or what?” His hand flew to grab the gun in your hand, but you quickly slapped it away. “Nice try.” It wasn’t a compliment. A sarcastic response to get under his skin further. He knows you enough to realize that you weren’t going to allow him to forget this unfolding situation. There was a high chance he was going to regret this, but he wanted to indulge his fantasies of with you, at least for a little while.

He shouldn’t be down on his knees, on a dirty old carpet, in an abandoned safe house. Especially not with you, a man who’s attempted to kill him and his team several times. Not to mention that you’re the same man who has been wanted by him the police for months.

Wanted in which way, he didn’t know. All he knew was that he wanted — no, that’s not quite right — needed you right now.

“Get it over with.”

You sighed, “You’re so impatient.” Taking out the magazine, you inspected the amount of bullets inside before returning it to the chamber. Switching off the safety, you pointed it at him. His breath hitched, the muzzle centered to his forehead. You were right; he was impatient. It didn’t help that you were mere seconds away from giving him what he wants.

“Your mask,” You reminded, softly, “Can you take it off for me?” He let out a huff, like he was going to decline but his hand rose. Unsure gloved fingers dipped underneath his shirt, the digits meeting fabric as he pulled it off of his head. There he was. Identity bare for someone who shouldn’t see the real him. As soon as the balaclava was on the floor, you trailed the muzzle down his face. He tensed, eyes wide. “What are you—?”

Quickly, his lips bumped against the front sight and you pushed it inside. He instinctively swallowed around the barrel, the taste and wide intrusion leading him to gag slightly.

“Mffh- mmhf? Mhg...” He attempted, even though the gun prevented him to properly speak.

You didn’t take it out, sliding it in further. Focus intent on the way he struggled to sit still and adjust. He shifted his position in discomfort, thighs rubbing against each other to try to soothe the ache in between his legs. His body was betraying him, cock growing hard inside the confines of his pants. He could easily stop you, but he didn’t want to. He was willingly submitting.

The sound of your tongue clicking snapped him out of his short daze, “Poor baby,” you shook your head in mock disappointment. “You’re not even afraid to have your head blown off?” It was a rhetorical question, not that he was going to answer. The letters he learned were turning into complete mush. “I would’ve done this with you sooner if I knew that you were so willing to just... take it.”

Saliva built in his mouth, trickling out of the corner. He was fucking drooling. “You’re better like this.”

He shook his head the best he could. “No?” You chuckled, drawing the gun back. “C’mon. Use your words.” His gaze hardened, but his body was a traitor to his emotions. A glare set in his eyes yet he had a tent in his pants and a blush on his cheeks. Hips rutting into nothing.

“I’m not—”

You shove it back in.

“Not what?”

Deity forgive him, he didn’t know if he hated that fact about you. Unbearable — that’s what he uses to describe you. Unbearable and cruel. A know-it-all. He could never tell you that. Not with the gun harshly pushing back and forth in his mouth, at least.

It was downright sinful.

Sinful, with the sounds that his throat was making. The muzzle poking at the back. He shouldn’t have a loaded firearm on his tongue. Not with you, a criminal that should be locked behind bars, treating it like it was your cock. Your treatment was rough, giving him little to no time to breathe. It felt uncomfortable, but so disgustingly good at the same time. This was your gun. The aftermath will have him lingering on your mind.

He shouldn’t want to be on your mind.

But he just can’t help it. He does have self-control, but you seem to simply take it away. He nearly smiles at the thought of you trying to come up with an excuse to why your gun was wet at the edges, maybe you’d forget to clean it, maybe you don’t even want to. Unknowingly, his hand wandered up to your belt. Shaky fingers took it off, achingly slow.

He finally pulled down your pants. A moan slipping into the muzzle as he wished that it was you in his mouth instead. But he had to wait. He wrapped his hand around the base, stroking it in a lazy manner. His eyes were hazy, throat for sure sore, and sweat on his skin. You bucked your hips into his palm, watching as he gags on your gun. Suddenly, a loud moan erupted from him, muffled. A wet patch forming on the crotch of his pants.

Fucking hell. You pant, currently in disbelief —

“Did you just cum?”

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

[simpingforbots]

What if a human shows up in transformers one

Part 3 possibly????

Like, with sentil prime, how orian paks will act with them after being optimus prime, and how D-16 would after becoming megatron.

hold on to your heats as it will be a long ride!

What if a human showed up in transformers one.

part 3.1

Sentinel Prime

Sentinel would of course bring his little pet to the Iacon 5000. the lights flashed the little human blind and you had to hold on tight as he swooned down to his cheering "people", basking in glory. He started the race and was proud of him self and seeing how much attention he gets from your little presents. He put on his winning smile and showed his affection towards you, getting even more attention. You of course knew to behave and not make an scene or you will be punished. Though soon the spotlight was taken by two miners. He was quite upset but seeing the reaction it got, decided to let it run and see how it ends. It was quite dramatic with how this two bot supported each other, though in the end they still ended up in med-bay. He decided to visit them and after talking with them retuned to his castle. And only then he noticed that you were surprisingly quite. turning around, expecting to see you running behind, he saw nothing. he looked up at arachnid who turned aorund and shrugged. He was quite upset but also surprised that YOU managed to escape Arachnids site. Must've ran away in med bay. not wanting to much of attention to this "mess", he ordered Darkwing to find them. though he had no need as soon you were brought back along with D-16 and High Guard. He laugh out loud. You saw someone act out of line and decided to take your chance and run? And after how he pampered you, fed and kept you safe? He did not held back in front of prisoners, squeezing your body till your bones started cracking loudly and your screams becoming whizzes. he kept on going until he heard a loud pop and you simply slumped over. so he tossed you aside like a broken toy.

Optimus Prime

Orion did not had any intention on dragging you in to race, you just clung on to him so he had to improvise, keeping you safe while helping D-16 through the race, managing to let you slip in to one of the vents and in to safety, away from dangerous chase. by the end of it he was happy to see you alright, holding his hand down to let you climb and inspect him and D-16 with your little hands, which clamed D-16 a bit and helped Orion to not get any more earful. after small check up you climbed own and just waited as Ratchet knew about you very well, along with other medical stuff and they all agreed to not harm you. Same, how ever, could not be said about Arachnid. Orion had to grab you and hold to his chest before she could even hurt you. So seeing this you were deemed as no threat and Sentinel walked in. let's say he did not expected to meet a new type of fan today. He even ALLOWED you to climb on his hand. Though he had to leave and "gently" tossed you back to Orion with empty promises of better life. you were kind of forced to joing D-16 and Orion as they were tossed in to one of the lowest levels and met B-127. his first impression scared the shit out of you and you screamed, clinging on to Orion while he was scared too. Though after confusion was cleared you allowed yellow bot to pet your head. after beheading "Steve" and finding map you were told it will be best if you stayed back and waited for their return. So you did, hiding in miners room, time to time getting pets and some food from other miners, trying your best to avoid Darkwing, patiently waiting for Orion and D-16 safely return.

Once you herd that some bots were brought from surface, you snuck out and witnessed train hitting the tower and D-16 shooting Pax by accident. You cried out as he dropped Pax and then dealt with Prime, claiming a new name. You had to hide as more destruction happened, hiding until it was all calm, yet still refusing to get out from below the piles of rubble, whimpering and crying out to Pax, knowing that he was dead. So when rubble begun lifting from your hiding spot, you cried harder, though a familiar touch and word reassured you. You opened your eyes and dug your little hands in to his chest, knowing well who was holding you. Yes, changed, new name, but still it was Pax. and you knew he will keep you safe. even if he had new, more important and grilling work, he still kept you safe and time to time would just have some time to relax and spend it with you, Elita and Bee. Though you missed D-16.

Part 1

Part 2

[parker-artio]

I have a large family. A very large family.

My mother fosters and she has 8 children, but has a waiver for up to having 10 kids in her house.

But finding out Bruce Wayne is an emergency foster parent made me think: Is it as hectic at his place as it is here? Does he have a case worker come inspect the house once a month? In case of any kids coming in? How many caseworkers has he actually gone through? He’s got how many kids.

So here’s a few things that have happened at our place that I think would’ve have happened with Bruce’s emergency foster kids/ his actual kids.

So the kids he fosters and adopt probably don’t have to do chores as much as the kids in my house do, since he’s a literal billionaire with a mansion, but it’s the sense of helping make responsibilities. So a kid- let’s say Dick- was working in the kitchen next to the fire extinguisher. (Did you know all foster homes have to have one that’s easy to access?) But then he saw smoke coming from the oven when Alfred opens it, which is normal, but he just had fire safety week in school, the fire fighters came in and showed everyone how to use an extinguisher in case of an emergency.

So what does Dick do?

Well he obviously grabs the extinguisher and pulls the pin and squeezes the handle. He forgets to point and aim the nozzle though.

The entire kitchen, the hallway, and a few surrounding rooms all get doused in the powder. Thankfully it wasn’t the foam. Or else everything would need to get thrown out.

Dick is covered in it so he’s sent to the shower to wash up while Alfred and Bruce clean everything. They can still open the closet and move a small thing and see small traces of white powder laying around- even a decade later.

(This has happened in my house. No one was happy. Covered the entire hallway that circled around our whole house, went the first four feet into our kitchen, by our front door, into all of the rooms in the hallway, and covered half of the bathroom. From ceilings to the roof. So much stuff was thrown out. 5 hours of cleaning.)

This is a lot longer than I expected it to be… I don’t wanna write anymore now.

[obsidianimagines]

Stay

After he and his brothers track down and kill the men who murdered their mother, Jack returns home to find you waiting in his room, and he doesn't want you to leave.

Jack Mercer x f!reader

Warnings: mentions of death/murder/trauma, a little homophobia (Bobby refers to reader as Jack's beard), smidge of angst, comfort/fluff 🥺, cursing, a little mention of sex so MINORS DNI

Notes: This is my first try at a Jack imagine. Hope you like it ☺️ and please ignore how bad I am at titles

Jack's childhood bedroom looked about as you'd expected.

An electric guitar and amp. A stereo with a collection of rock cd's. Band and car posters plastered on the wall. And, of course, a stack of VHS tapes that you probably didn't want to inspect too closely—he'd been a teenage boy the last time he lived there, after all.

You eventually grew tired of looking around and propped his pillow up so you could sit back against his headboard. His bed was a lot more comfortable than the one in the crappy hotel you'd been sleeping in, mostly because it was Jack's, and that meant safety. It meant home.

It was already pretty late when you first arrived at the Mercer home, so you were having a hard time staying awake to greet your boyfriend. Maybe you should've just waited until the morning, but something told you that you might be needed. That was why you'd driven to Detroit with him in the first place instead of making him go on his own. To be there for him during such a devastating time.

You yawned and decided to rest your eyes for just a few minutes, not hearing the sound of the front door, or Bobby speaking a little too loudly as three of the Mercers entered.

"Seriously, Jackie. How much are you paying her?"

"I'm not paying her anything, Bobby." Like always, his brother was just trying to get under his skin. Sometimes, it really fucking bothered him, but after seeing your car parked out front, he just wanted to find you.

He didn't see you in the living room, and just as he realized where you likely were, Sofi came down the stairs and confirmed it. "She's waiting in your room."

"Thanks." Jack took the steps two at a time, passing Sofi as she eagerly went to meet Angel at the bottom of the stairs.

"Hey, she better not think she's staying here! We don't need another La Vida Loca!" Bobby called after Jack, which he ignored, chuckling as Sofi started cursing at the oldest Mercer in Spanish.

Jack opened his bedroom door, cracking a small smile the instant he noticed you dozing off on his bed. He'd had half a mind to have Jerry drop him off at your hotel, but it was late enough that he assumed you were already sound asleep. Now that he knew you weren't even there, he was glad he hadn't gone anyway because he wouldn't have heard the end of it from Bobby.

Your eyes fluttered open as Jack slipped off his leather jacket, tossing it on the chair while kicking off his boots. "Hi," you greeted with a relieved smile.

"Hey, gorgeous," he replied as he climbed into the bed with you.

Even though you'd only been together for about two and a half years, you could read Jack very well. It was clear when he was upset or thinking of painful things, showing right there in his eyes. At that moment, you saw not just the sadness and grief of the last several days, but something else that disturbed him.

You shimmied down the bed a bit and opened your arms, allowing him to practically lay on top of you and rest his head on your chest. "What happened, baby?" You gently embraced him, resting a hand at the nape of his neck.

Jack took a moment to relax in your arms, letting out a sigh as you began to run your fingers through his hair. It had taken some time and a lot of built trust for him to be fully comfortable with that kind of intimacy, and once that happened, he could never get enough. After everything that happened that day, he really fucking needed it.

"I–" He sniffled, blinking back the tears that stung at his eyes. "I saw the security footage. I saw my mom..."

"Oh..." Your heart clenched as you realized what he meant. "I'm so sorry you had to see that, Jack."

"We found the guys that killed her," he said quietly, his fingers toying with the fabric of your shirt. "Angel and Bobby took care of it, but I...I couldn't handle it. I'd never watched anyone die like that." Jack had done some dumbass shit as a kid, but he'd never gotten into some of the more extreme things his brothers—particularly Bobby—did. Not until his mom was taken from him.

The fact that he and his brothers had found and killed their mom's murderers was not a surprise to you. Jack already told you that was the plan, and he'd shared enough about his brothers in the past for you to know he wasn't just talking. While killing was wrong, you had nothing against them getting revenge for Evelyn as long as Jack still came home to you in the end.

"But it's done now, right? You don't have to see that again."

"Nah, it's not over yet. Someone hired them to kill her."

Your hand stopped moving. "What?" Random robbery to contract killing? A pit formed in your stomach at the thought of him getting mixed up with something like that. "Who would want to kill your mom? She was amazing." You'd only ever talked to Evelyn on the phone, but between the lovely conversations and everything Jack ever told you about her, you knew she was a special woman.

"We don't know yet. I'll have to stay a couple more days..." Though it was important to find the truth and get justice, part of him really just wanted to be back home in your little shared apartment. He wanted things to be back to normal—as normal as they could be without Evelyn Mercer in the world.

"I'll add a few days to my hotel," you said as your fingers resumed playing with his hair. The idea of an extended stay didn't bother you at all. You knew he wasn't leaving Detroit until his mom was avenged.

"You should check out and stay here with me." He looked up at you with those soft blue eyes, and you already knew you'd be doing just that with very little convincing. Jack was hard to resist. "I miss you."

"It's not like I'm back in New York." Even though you laughed, you understood exactly what he meant. The cold Michigan nights really made you appreciate sleeping with him. "I miss you, too, but I don't want to intrude on you and your family."

"You're not intruding. You're my family, too," he assured you with a smile, which you returned as you stroked his cheek. "Besides, Angel's busy with Sofi, and Bobby's gonna be annoyed by someone or something no matter what."

You'd only met his oldest brother very briefly, but based on Jack's warnings and Sofi's rant about him when she let you in the house, you didn't doubt that he was a prickly as they come.

Jack watched expectantly, hoping he wouldn't have to spend another night alone. He had a hard time getting rest without you already, but it got worse after finding out his mom died. And he couldn't help the worry that whoever he and his brothers were after could end up targeting those close to them. That you could be hurt or killed just for being in town and being his girl. You'd probably be safer at the Mercer home.

"Okay, I'll check out in the morning."

He let out the breath he'd been holding and moved up your body to place a kiss on your lips. As he pulled back, you gazed up at him with the sweetest eyes he'd ever seen, and he thought for the millionth time how lucky he was to meet you. That you'd happened to end up at one of his shows three years ago was nothing short of a fucking miracle. "I love you."

"Love you, too," you said back without hesitation.

Underneath the rock and roll look, Jack was soft and sweet. You had seen tiny hints of it when you first talked outside of the bar his band had just played in, and he slowly let you in to see the rest. He respected and cared for you in a way that no other guy ever had, he made you feel safe and loved. Knowing you did the same for him after everything he'd been through meant the world.

When he laid back down beside you and pulled the blanket up over your bodies, you quickly turned on your side and snuggled right up to him.

Jack kissed the top of your head and slowly rubbed his hand up and down your back, and that was the last thing you remembered before finally drifting off.

Waking up was not quite as peaceful as falling asleep had been. A loud banging on the door shocked you both awake just in time to hear, "Rise and shine, Princess! We got shit to do today!"

Jack groaned and buried his face in your chest again. Even with Bobby's interruption, he really didn't want to move. After all, that was his second favorite spot to put his face. You were just about as eager to get up as he was, realizing just how much you'd needed this the last few days.

"What a charming wake up call," you said with a laugh, your voice rough from sleep. Considering how he'd referred to you as Jack's beard the first time you met, and at their own mother's funeral no less, a lack of tact seemed to be Bobby's thing.

"You get used to it," he mumbled into your t-shirt. "Unless you changed your mind about staying..."

"Nope." You reluctantly threw the blanket off and untangled yourself from him, taking a glance at your watch. "We've got plenty of time for breakfast, but I do need to be at the hotel by 9:30 to get my things."

Once you stretched and finally got out of bed, Jack sat up and scrubbed his hand over his face, his hair sticking up even more than usual. You went over to his jacket to fish his zippo and the pack of cigarettes out of the pocket and toss them over to him.

"Thanks," Jack said before placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting it up. He took a drag and watched amused as you slipped your shoes on and fixed yourself up a bit because, unlike him, you had a problem with looking like you'd just rolled out of bed.

Satisfied, you leaned down and tenderly cupped his jaw so you could press a kiss to his forehead. "See you downstairs, baby."

Jack's cheeks heated up at the sweet affection, and he blew out a cloud of smoke as you walked away with a sway of your hips.

Yeah, he was lucky as hell.

[captn-trex]

— After the Dust Settles / Elrond x Fem!Reader

summary: Elrond finds you after the fall of Eregion. Startled by the condition he’s in, you’d do anything to bring him the relief he needs.

warnings/tags: NSFW 18+ ONLY!!! hurt/comfort, friends to lovers, idiots in love (reader is the biggest idiot, sorry), healthy dose of mutual pining, reader is an elf, some miscommunication, minor injury and blood, smut, fingering, pinv sex, reader has medieval expectations and elrond exceeds because I! say! so!

a/n: alright, first non star wars fic on tumblr, whatever whatever. it’s not gonna become a thing unless... this man has not left my mind since the end of season 2 so here, have this. I am not the most well versed in The Lore pls don’t crucify me for it. [@jetii here it is, as promised]

writing masterlist / join my taglist / read on ao3 / word count: 6k

Since the elves had been afforded sanctuary by the rings, you had been trying to busy yourself with any number of menial tasks to help ease minds, distract your own at all costs. The battle for Eregion had taken not only people’s lives, but the will of the ones who remained, and with what little of your sanity you had left you picked up where others could not face continuing.

You were inside the walls of the city when the orcs attacked, an archer on the last line of defence. The effort was futile, and it had been apparent even before the battle had begun. Watching so many of your kind fall into the clutches of death was more than you had bargained for, and something you wouldn’t soon forget. Your quiver and bow laid at your side, a piece of you unwilling to part from them still. 

Now in the safety of the valley, you had set up a small tent, where people could come to have their ailments tended to with a preferred level of privacy. You were no healer, but they were few and far between in present company, so you did what you could. The curtain of night had been drawn for some time, the first time since the end of the battle, and the amount of patients had dwindled into nothing a few hours ago while the sun still clung to the horizon. You were organising what few resources you did have, crouched to view the label of each vial in the small cabinet, and you missed the light scratching of the tent canvas as it slid open.

Your name was called from behind you in a quiet voice, almost sounding like a plea. You turned, finding your beloved friend Elrond standing rigid in the doorway of the tent, his eyes dark and unmoving from yours. His name left your lips in a hoarse whisper as you took in the sight of him. His skin was marred by dirt and blood, a gash cutting him open along the cheekbone, his posture uncharacteristically slumped and hair falling loosely around his face. He still wore his armour from the battle, painted much the same as his skin.

“I did not know if you—“ he seemed to stop himself from speaking, pressing his lips together as he hung his head. His eyes slid closed, and he took a deep, steadying breath. 

You raised yourself from the ground, taking a tentative step towards him, “what is it, Elrond?” 

His gaze raised to you once more at the sound of your voice, and he shook his head lightly, the tiniest of tired smiles lifting his lips, “I am glad you are safe, is all” 

“And you, my lord” you replied, stepping up to him properly now, and raising your hand to his chin to tip his head to the side. His hair fell across his forehead as you traced a finger along the underside of the cut, inspecting.

“Please, you know that is unnecessary” he insisted, taking another deep breath as he watched you carefully. You knew how the title irritated him so when passing your lips, the reason for its passing every time you saw him. “It does not hurt” he claimed, referring to his cut.

“I hear it’s Commander these days” you paid his comment no mind, instead taking in every small scratch that littered the surface of his skin. Your chest tightened at the sight, at the very idea of the elf before you being hurt, having death breathing down his neck. It was beyond relieving that he had made it through the battle.

Elrond’s face drew a tired expression, one of quiet exasperation at your persistence. His hand took hold of your forearm, “please, you need not fuss”

“It must be cleaned” you asserted, dropping your hands from his face and turning away. 

“Melnā, I do not need—”

“Take a seat” you spoke with no room for argument, ignoring the endearment that made your heart flutter as always, “I will return in a moment” 

Taking a step outside, you let yourself breathe in the night air. It really was beautiful here, the moon shining over the water and casting a cool glow along its surface, the trees gently swaying in the breeze as if cradled in its arms. You collected water from the stream just a short distance from the tent, your mind dwelling on the elf that stood just beyond its entrance.

You had known Elrond for what felt like lifetimes, and for any mortal it would have been. In all that time you had never ceased to be enamoured by him. It was quite impossible not to be. He was kind, giving without thought, an attentive healer and a good friend. Possibly that was why it was so odd that you found yourself in this position, or perhaps that was exactly why. He hadn’t come to you for healing, because that wasn’t what this was about, this was caring for him when he needed it most, whether he’d acknowledge it or not. 

He’d always been affectionate with you, in a way that you could face reciprocating. It was more his words than anything, which was not surprising in the least. Though proven a cunning warrior in surviving the recent conflict, his tongue had always been far sharper than his sword. He spoke with intention only, quiet when words held no meaning, avoiding pleasantries when he could, though he always took the time to spare you words of adulation that felt unearned from such a person.

No matter his insistence in speaking it, you could not return the affectionate nickname he called you; melnā. Beloved. It was too real, striking the very deepest part of your heart, where nothing but your love for him resided, festering.

You pulled aside the canvas of the tent, venturing back inside with the pot of water at your hip. Elrond sat in the chair as you had requested, his head tilted back, eyes closed, weighted down by lack of rest. You had never seen him so defeated. His back was curled against the chair, arms hanging limp against his thighs, one leg outstretched and the other falling out to the side. It was disheartening, to say the least, that this elf you knew to be strong-willed above all else was so beaten, inside and out.

You moved silently, not wishing to disturb his moment of peace. It may be the first chance he had had since the battle, after all. You retrieved a cloth, and tentatively approached his slumped figure. It was the sound of water trickling from the cloth that drew him from his stupor. His eyes opened and found yours as you stood hunched over the pot beside him, his posture straightening, more reminiscent of his usual demeanour.

“My apologies” he murmured.

“Your apologies are unnecessary” you spoke softly, wringing out the cloth, “please, rest if that is what your body calls for”

His brows pinched a little, offering a tender look that tugged at your heart. He was so unused to having kindness offered to him, being the one that so often gave it out, that you knew the simple notion had surprised him.

He slumped against the chair once again, eyes never leaving you as you folded the cloth into a neat square; an unnecessarily proper gesture that would soon be proved pointless as the white material became riddled with dirt and blood. You stepped around the pot so you stood in front of him, and took his chin between your fingers once more, tipping his head to get a better look at the wound. As the cool cloth met the warmth of his skin, all of his breath left him in a sharp exhale.

He flinched away only marginally, evidently trying to remain still against the sting. You whispered an apology, but continued on cleaning his wound until the regular hue of his skin shone through the grime. Thankfully the cut wasn’t deep, and really he was lucky to come away from the fight so unscathed where most fell. Though it didn’t stop the way your chest tightened at the simple idea of him being hurt.

Elrond had always been collected in a particularly admirable way, but now as his frustrations could be seen peeking through the cracks of his noble exterior, you were more worried than anything. Only months ago had he been the bright-eyed elf you knew, full of a certain hopefulness that seemed unending. Now as he sat before you, his grey eyes were dimmed, as if someone had snuffed his spark, the state of Middle Earth turning them cold, clouded. Where they had been the welcome mist of an early morning, there was now a storm brewing in them.

He was much changed from who he was, and your heart broke for him.

“You are hurting” he observed in a low voice. You hadn’t known he’d been watching you so closely.

You shook your head, avoiding his gaze, “I am unharmed” 

His eyebrows drew together as he turned his head, forcing you to stop your movements. “It is not your body” he claimed, taking your wrist as you tried to continue, “it is your mind”

The feel of his fingers wrapped around your skin, the unwavering scrutiny in his eyes, was dizzying. You tried to deny the way your stomach flipped, butterflies taking flight, but it was made difficult by the raising bumps along your skin, the heat that creeped up your neck.

“I did not realise you could read the thoughts of others, Elrond” you deflected, your tone light, almost jesting.

He scoffed quietly, his grip loosening on your wrist, “it was merely an informed assumption” 

“Informed” you chuckled as you resumed wiping the muck from his face, stepping forward a little, “pray tell?” 

“Your face betrays you” he claimed, turning his head away and spreading his knees wider for your ease.

You sighed, following the sharp line of his jaw with your eyes, clenched in pain of either flesh or mind, most likely both. You focused on cleaning the area, gently urging him to relax with smooth motions from his cheekbone down to his chin. His eyes closed with a soft breath leaving his lips, his mouth falling open. 

“It troubles me to see you this way, mellon nín” you confessed quietly, “it is so unlike you” 

He hummed thoughtfully, the corners of his mouth turning downwards in a deep frown, “It is just a small cut, it will be fixed in a matter of hours”

“It is not your wound that concerns me” you replied, an edge of stringency that you hadn’t intended. He looked up at you with a timidity to his gaze that was hard to ignore. His guard was up, and it was so foreign to see on his features. “May I speak plainly?”

The smallest smile reached his darkened eyes, “as if you would do anything but” 

A gentle laugh escaped you, creasing your eyes with a fondness before they grew sad. You skimmed the back of your fingers over his clean cheek very lightly, and he turned to face you once more. “I am worried for you, Elrond” you whispered, “you are much changed from the elf I once knew”

He sighed desperately, hanging his head, “it is not by any great effort of my own”

“I am aware” you returned, slipping your hand under his jaw to raise his head. The shame in his eyes was hard to bear, and you stroked your thumb across his cheek in a delicate gesture. “What can be done?”

“You need not worry about me” he assured, “wrongs will be righted in time, it is the way of things.” A long breath passed your lips as you stared down at him, worry never leaving your expression. Elrond lifted a hand to you, flattening his palm against the outside of your knee and rubbing up and down in a comforting manner, “please do not fret, melnā nín“

You could feel your cheeks burn at the endearment, and busied yourself by focusing on the task at hand, threading your fingers through the hair that fell over his forehead to push it back. “You should not call me that” you muttered, dragging the cloth over his temple.

“Why?” he rebutted softly, thumb tracing over the top of your knee, “because I am ‘changed’?” 

You frowned at him, not understanding the question, “because you do not use it for its intended meaning”

The statement made him sit up immediately, his back straightening so he drew closer in proximity, his chest almost flush against you, “why do you assume so?” 

His sudden closeness was as startling as his words, and you were left with your hands in the air, unsure what to do with them, your mouth hanging open and trying to find the right words. “I— I do not take your meaning”

”You believe that I do not mean the words I speak, why is this?” He asked lowly, skimming his hands up the outside of your thighs, resting them at your waist.

To say that you felt flustered would be an understatement. Elrond stared up at you with determined curiosity, a soft seriousness that would make anyone feel cared for, that their words mattered more than life itself. The weight of his hands on your hips was unfamiliar, yet so comfortable, though that was not surprising. This was Elrond, after all. He was impossibly kind and purposeful at the worst of times, a dependable elf beyond measure and in all your years of friendship he had not once seen fit to slight you in any way.

Yes, friendship, because the question of more had always seemed impossible to ask, and thus been unanswered. 

“We are friends, Elrond, I—”

“You are right” he interrupted, removing his hands from your body and sitting back against the chair, “Forgive me”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes as his head dropped back, sighing deeply. You didn’t know what the appropriate thing to do was in this specific scenario, but the dirt that he had smeared over his cleared skin was demanding your attention.

“Do not do that” you instructed quietly, taking the dirty hand from his face and sighing deeply as you looked upon it.

You wrung out the cloth into another basin and returned it to the fresh water, then brought it to his hand, kneeling by his side. You felt the weight of his gaze on you as you wiped the dirt from his skin, but refused to indulge in it. It was selfish to seek anything from him in this moment, when he was so broken, in need of someone to care for him.

“You are tired” he observed correctly again. He had always been able to read you far more easily than you were comfortable with.

“Everyone in this valley is tired” you deflected.

“I am not concerned with them at the moment” he spoke resolutely. You finally met his eyes, and the way they shone with intent set your stomach alive, “this is unnecessary. You require rest” 

“Please” you pleaded quietly, “just— let me do this for you, just for this one time” 

He exhaled softly, looking upon you with a pitiful expression as he raised his clean palm to your jaw. His thumb swiped across your cheek, but he pulled away almost right away. “I will…” he trailed off, taking hold of your forearm, “but I won’t have you stationed at my feet like this”

He pulled you up, and then directed you to sit on the arm of the chair, laying your legs across his lap. You obliged, your voice stuck in your throat, and his arm wound around your waist, splaying his palm against your lower back to steady you. 

He gave you a gentle smile, “you may continue, if you wish” 

You nodded, and took his other hand, quickly wiping away every inch of dirt that covered it until you reached the edge of his armour, where the skin was untouched by grime. You then raised the cloth to his neck, and much to your surprise, Elrond dropped his head back with a pensive sigh as his eyes slid closed. Watching every movement he made as you cleaned him, you became more and more entranced. His hand slid to your hip as you ran the cloth under his ear, earning another uneasy exhale, and when you reached the lip of his armour, dragging the white material just below the surface of his tunic, a small shudder wracked his body. 

You had finished your work now, the visage that was once covered by dirt was clean, shining brilliantly in the low candlelight of the tent. Elrond still laid with his head back, and the exposed skin of his neck was all too tempting, beckoning you. You ran your fingers through his hair, pushing it back from his face and drawing another shaky breath from him. With the confidence that your touch was affecting him in the way you had thought, you took a leap of faith.

His skin was soft under your lips as you pressed a kiss to the side of his neck, and Elrond’s grip on your hip tightened, his breath stuttering. You placed another gentle kiss against him, this time to the column of his throat, and you watched as it bobbed in reply. Elrond’s other hand now securely held your thigh, tracing circles into fabric of your tunic, and you continued to gently press your lips to his neck, slowly exploring the skin that was now exposed to you.

“Melnā” he whispered in a soft exhale, and you felt your blood running hot. 

“What is it, meleth nín?” you murmured against him, continuing to litter his skin with affection.

Elrond’s breath caught in his throat, and for a moment he was silent, his breath coming out in shallow pants, as if trying not to be heard. You paused your movements, and awaited his answer. 

“I am not sure you understand what you are doing to me”

You raised your head at his assertion, meeting his dark gaze head on and trying to contain the embarrassment you felt, “I shall stop, we never need mention this again”

Elrond shook his head. “You misunderstand me” he said, sitting up so his forehead met yours, “I would not want you to do this simply because you felt I needed it” 

You frowned, moving your gaze between his eyes and searching for something you weren’t entirely sure of. “I would not deny that” you spoke quietly, and watched as a flicker of uncertainty crossed his features, “but selfishly, it would not be the sole reason”

His eyebrows raised ever so slightly, and for a moment he just stared at you, as if to figure out whether or not the words had really slipped from your lips. His hand left your thigh to hold your jaw, closing his eyes as he leant into you, “it does not bother you?”

“What doesn’t?”

“That I am… different, as you say?” He murmured in reply, lifting his head so his nose gently rubbed against yours. 

“Elrond…” you sighed as you took his face in both hands, and his eyes fluttered open to meet your gaze, “you are not capable of the kind of change that would squander my high regards for you, nor quell my affections”

He exhaled, and you felt the warmth of his breath against your lips, “what would you allow me?” 

“Anything” you replied in a whisper, “everything”

Elrond’s arm tightened around you, and his other hooked under your knees as he slowly stood from his seat, taking you with him. He kept his eyes on yours as he made his way over to the bed you had set up, and finally you could see some of the darkness receding from them. If you were to serve as a distraction for him, with nothing given in return, then you would do it gladly, no matter the pain in your heart. You knew it was foolish, to allow yourself to be burned at his stake, but when he treated you so gently, as if you were precious, as if you’d break if he released you, you didn’t seem to care. 

He placed you down on the thin mattress, moving to remove his armour before you protested. “Allow me” you directed him to sit down instead, and knelt in front of him to slip off the pieces of his armour without another word. The process felt almost religious, a ritual of sorts, each piece falling away to reveal his slender form. You stacked the pieces neatly to your side, taking care not to damage the fine craftsmanship, despite it being designed for that express purpose. 

When the last piece was placed down, you finally lifted your eyes back to him. Your insides buzzed with nervous energy, but you couldn’t lose your confidence now, and so you placed your hands on his thighs, sliding them upwards as you raised to your knees. For a moment you just took him in, his weary smile, the tiredness in his eyes, slack jaw. He was so fatigued, and to offer him some semblance of tenderness in this state felt like a monumental privilege. His hands found your body, sitting comfortably at your waist, and you were snapped back into the moment.

“You do not need to do this” he reminded, gently kneading your skin to bring you closer. 

You shook your head, “I want to, if you’ll allow me” 

His expression softened further, “you need not ask, my love”

You nudged his jaw upwards with your nose, planting a kiss just beneath and making his body deflate in relief. You drew a slow path towards his ear as your hands slipped beneath the hem of his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin against your palms. Every movement you made was calculated, a precise act, aimed to release any lingering tension that he held within his body. You tried hard not to lose yourself in his presence, in the natural scent of his skin, in the feel of his breath against your own neck, and succeeded by focusing on every sensation as it arose, keeping yourself present. 

You slowly peeled back his shirt, allowing you access to the skin below, but before you could explore any further, Elrond’s voice cut through the silence.

“Stand for me” he said lowly, his lips almost brushing your ear as he spoke and causing a shiver to run down your back, desire pooling low in your stomach.

You obliged right away, pushing off of the floor to stand before him. First, he took you calf and slid one shoe from you, and then repeated the action for the other foot. He took hold of the ties that were holding your tunic up and slowly untied you from the material. The fabric slid from your shoulders with ease, pooling around your ankles on the floor. The chill of night, barely concealed by the tent, blew against your bare skin, nipping at you as the edge of self-consciousness did in the same moment. You were bare to Elrond now, and his hands traced down your sides as he took in the sight, a certain reverence to his gaze that sent your mind towards puzzlement.

As his hands reached your thighs, he pulled you slowly towards him, positioning you over him so you straddled his lap. Before you could continue the exploration of his skin, his own lips made contact with your shoulder, and he littered kisses downwards along your collarbone, languid motions that made your head spin. You breath caught in your throat as his hand skimmed up the inside of your thigh, and you let out a choked exhale when you felt his fingers dip between your folds. Your head fell forwards, resting your forehead against his shoulder as he continued his efforts, tracing circles around your sensitive bud, which only made your breath heavier and heavier.

You panted his name, disbelief colouring your tone, not expecting him to pay any attention to your needs. It would have been ample to care for him, but receiving it back, you realised just how much you needed it. The battle had been tough on you as well, and the way that your body relaxed under his touch reminded you of that fact.

A small chuckle left his lips at your incredulity. “You did not expect this?” He deduced correctly once again. You couldn’t answer, for the way his fingers expertly played against you was rendering you unable to speak. “You thought I would neglect you in this way?”

“I… n— yes?” you stuttered out unsurely, silenced by your own moan at Elrond doubling his efforts.

“Mm, as I thought” he teased lightly, his voice low as his lips drew near to your ear. You breathed heavily, trying to collect your thoughts, trying to keep your lips sealed for the fear of what sounds might erupt if given the chance. Not trusting yourself to stay quiet, you buried your face in his neck. Elrond hummed disapprovingly, “I want to hear you, pretty one”

Urging you on in his request, Elrond slowly slipped his fingers past your entrance, taking his time to coax every possible ounce of pleasure from you, and earning a shaky moan against his neck. 

“That’s it” he cooed, his other hand kneading the skin of your waist in time with the fingers that worked inside of you, “I have you”

His words reminded you I’m an instant that this was not to be the purpose of this endeavour, and your hand flew to his wrist, pausing his movements. “Elrond, this was supposed to be for your benefit”

Elrond shook his head. “That may have been your intention” he withdrew his fingers a little before sinking them back inside, “but I can see that you are just as weary as I”

“No, I—” your hips twitched forwards instinctively as he picked up his pace, “I insist”

”Do you?” He said in an amused rumble.

You tried to regain authority over your ragged breath, some semblance of control over your body, but Elrond was playing you like a harp. He strummed the strings of your pleasure like he knew the tune by heart, every movement instinctive and adept, swells in dynamic that built up towards a climax. You were getting there quickly far quicker than anticipated. The pads of his fingers pressed against your walls, the base of his palm working your clit, and you could feel everything within you pulling taut.

“Elrond—” his name fell from your lips in a needy whisper.

“What do you need?” He replied quietly, never faltering in his pace.

“I—”

The question confounded you. Never before had you been asked such a thing, not in the height of pleasure at least. Your mind couldn’t wander far given the situation, but for a moment you tried to produce an answer for him.

“Tell me” he urged again, more insistent now, “what do you want?”

“I want—” the minor difference in wording, with the added knowledge of Elrond’s cock straining against his trousers and pressing against your leg, brought the answer to you more readily. “I want… you, Elrond” you breathed out, hips buckling against him to punctuate your point.

An uneasy groan sounded in his throat, reverberating against your cheek as you remained pressed against him. He pulled his fingers from you quickly, and within the next second he had flipped you over so you were beneath him. You reached for the tie of his trousers as he did, eager to remove the final piece of clothing that restricted him from you.

Elrond slotted himself between your legs to the tune of your small whimper, but he paused. His face hovered above you, his eyes flicking between yours, searching. It was as if he was waiting for something, but you couldn’t decipher what.

“You have not kissed me” he muttered, his eyes briefly flicking to your lips before his steadfast gaze returned to yours.

Your eyes widened a little at the observation, unsure of the waters you were about to dip your toe into, “you would let me?”

The expression on Elrond's face as he pulled back was purely scandalised, his brows settled in a deep frown, “whatever do you mean?” 

“I—” you tried to find the words to express what you had previously thought, but now it all sounded ridiculous. 

“You believe I do not—” words failed him in a moment of disbelief, and then his expression softened once more, his palm resting against your cheek, “meleth nín, forgive me for such unkind words, but… you are a fool”

Your brows drew together a little. He had never called you anything of the sort, but knowing him, ever intentional with his words, you didn’t doubt that he was right.

“To doubt my deep affections for you is to deny the very rising and setting of the sun. Do you truly think so lowly of me that I would allow you this without returning your desire in equal measure?”

You could only blink up at him after such a confession, but once his words began to sink in, you realised the depth of your folly. Of course the reverence in his gaze, the tenderness of his touch, was not because anyone was giving him this kind of affection, but because it was you. The thought struck you so suddenly that you became breathless, your cheeks heating. To engage in this act, usually reserved for marriage, he must have more admiration for you than you gave him credit for. Elrond was right, you were a fool.

“I do not” you spoke resolutely, “I have only the highest of regards for you” 

“Then hear me now” he pressed a kiss to your forehead before continuing, “I have waited centuries to embrace you in this way. Every moment in your presence has been excruciating, longing for more than what I thought possible, waiting for the day that you changed your mind about me. Now that the day has finally arrived, I do not intend to spare you such an intimacy without knowing the taste of your lips”

“Elrond…” you whispered, reaching up to mirror his palm against your cheek, “my mind remains unchanged. This is the way I have always felt” 

His eyes widened, a light scoff escaping him in complete surprise, “then we are both fools”

“I believe you may be right” you chuckled at his reaction, you hand tangling in his curls with the reward of a delighted sigh. The look of contentment on his face was enough to melt you into the fabric of the sheet you laid upon. “You are so beautiful, melnā”

Elrond rested his forehead against yours, “what ever beauty I possess pales in comparison to the fortune of looking upon such fair features as yours”

“Such flowery words” you lips quirked, teasing his lyrical ways. 

Elrond chuckled, skimming the pad of his thumb across the skin beneath your eye, “you are worth the time it takes to speak them, my love”

At long last, Elrond brought his lips to yours. He kissed you firmly, deeply, every bit of his usual sincerity woven into the action, and you quickly lost yourself in him as you had aimed to prevent before. His hands roved your body in featherlight touches, mapping the shape of you as his kisses grew more insistent. 

Soon he began to explore past the bounds of your lips, traveling along your jaw. His breath ghosted over your ear, pausing for only a second, before he gently brushed his lips against it. Your breath caught in your throat, almost choking by the uneasy rhythm of it as he grazed his teeth against your earlobe. It was the first time anyone had ever touched your ears, and the gesture was so uniquely intimate, so undeniably pleasurable, that you couldn’t help the way your finger’s tightened in Elrond’s curls. 

You wrapped your legs around his waist, drawing his body closer. The both of you moaned in tandem as his hardened length came into contact with your core, Elrond whispering a curse as he buried his face in your neck. He repeated the action with more intention, taking hold of his cock to run it through your folds, slick with arousal. Your breath shortened as he circled your clit with the tip, your mind becoming hazier. Elrond lifted his head and pressed his forehead to yours, and you felt his shaky breath against your lips. The question was clear in his eyes, asking for your permission, and you tightened your legs around him to reply. 

His tip passed your entrance, stretching you open in the most pleasant way. The melody of your moans only intensified as he slowly sank into you, his hand gripping your hip tightly. His eyes were screwed shut, and he swore under his breath again, his lips brushing yours in the process. He released his hand from your hip, smoothing over the skin that he had held so tightly, as if to soothe any hurt he had caused. If he had, you hadn’t noticed.

Elrond pulled out almost completely, before he sank back in with a slow roll of his hips. He set a steady pace at first, both of you just revelling in the feel of being so connected, so close. He brought his lips to yours once more, taking his time to really taste you, to feel every movement so deeply. 

His hands smoothed down your sides as he pulled away slightly to gaze down at you, goosebumps raising under his touch. “You are so perfect” he spoke reverently, his tone nothing short of worshipping, and you could feel your cheeks flush, even now. The change in angle had your back arching, and as a heavy moan left your lips, Elrond gripped your hips tightly again. It seemed that something in him snapped after that, any restraint that he had demonstrated melted away, and letting what desire coursed through his veins take ahold of him.

His pace was fracturing then, his breath heavy against your skin as he leaned over to paint affection across your collarbone and chest. His fingers danced along the skin of your abdomen, taking a path downwards that had you already writhing at the anticipation. He drew tight circles around your clit, and combined with the feel of his cock dragging against your walls, hitting the deepest parts of you, you were ready to come undone in a matter of seconds.

“That’s it, meleth nín. Let go for me” he whispered against your ear, the added sensation of his lips against the sensitive area making your orgasm rip through you almost immediately. 

Your vision blurred, white hot bliss searing through your veins as you were pushed over the edge, and Elrond followed you over, letting out a low grunt as he spilled all of himself inside of you. He held himself over you as he regained his breath, meeting your eyes again and letting a fatigued grin lift his lips, his eyelids heavy.

You pulled him down and into a slow kiss, your hands on the back of his neck, gently tugging at the curls at the base of his head. He brought his forehead to yours as you broke the kiss, and wound an arm around your waist to hold you tightly to him. 

“You know…” he began, something playful in his eyes, mouth twitching with a smirk, “in the eyes of some, this would make us husband and wife”

You chuckled, wrapping your arms around his neck, “I think I could live with people believing that”

Elrond hummed amusedly, gently tracing his nose along yours in a tender gesture. “Do not think of this as my proposal” he murmured, “one day, I shall ask you properly” 

[explorevenus]

birthday girl ♡ yandere!leon kennedy x reader

nsfw (18+) - minors dni or i will call ur mom

word count - 3.1k

description - after months on end in captivity, your special day arrives. leon plans to make it your best birthday ever.

tags/warnings - yandere!leon kennedy, reader is in captivity (it's loosely based in the universe of my fic something permanent), no use of Y/N, pet names (puppy, princess, etc.), daddy kink, dubcon, reader gets put on a collar and leash, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), p in v, breeding kink

a/n - a birthday gift for my chaos puppy wife @nexysworld ♡

my masterlist ♡

my ao3 ♡

fic under the cut, thanks so much for reading and i hope u enjoy ;w;

-venus ♡

"Do you know what day it is, princess?"

You were a little bit shocked that those were the first words out of Leon's mouth when he came home from work that day. He didn't ask you about your day, he didn't implore you to ask about his, he simply asked you if you knew what day it was, and of course you didn't. You had no way of knowing. It almost made you nervous that this was a test.

Warily, you shook your head. "I don't know. What day is it?"

His smile widened, more than reaching his eerily warm blue eyes as answered you, "It's your birthday."

You hadn't really thought about it. By now you'd sort of forgotten that time was even real. "It's my birthday?" You tilted your head.

Leon nodded sweetly, tipping you up by your chin so he could gift you with a barrage of soft kisses. "It is, and if I have anything to say about it, it's gonna be your best birthday."

Eyeing him curiously, you said nothing, and he didn't either. He just took your hand and brought you down to the kitchen, where you were mildly surprised to find quite the spread waiting for you. Laid out on the kitchen island was a beautiful cake decorated in your favorite colors, a takeout bag from what was once your favorite restaurant when you weren't being held captive and two small boxes wrapped in pink paper. You couldn't help but wonder when he found the time to do all of this.

"What do you think, angel?" He asked, a hand at the small of your back as he watched your face closely for your reaction.

You approached the island slowly, inspecting the cake like a piece of fine art. Based on the intricacy of the decorations alone, it was obviously not inexpensive, and now you were extra curious about what could possibly be in those boxes.

"Thank you," You responded, turning around to face him, and despite how much you hated throwing him a bone, your next words weren't entirely ingenuine, "This was really thoughtful."

You never imagined something as simple as a spontaneous birthday party would be enough to make you feel a little bit normal again, to remind you that time is still real. 

Leon drew your body in close so he could plant a kiss at the crown of your head. "It's my pleasure, really. The day my princess was brought into this world is one worth celebrating."

What you weren't expecting was for dinner to feel even more normal somehow. You didn't feel like a captive as you and Leon sat across from each other in the low light, sharing casual conversation over your favorite meal from a takeout box like it was just another day. By some stroke of luck he even poured you a glass of wine. 

Out of extreme caution for your safety, of course, Leon didn't light any candles on your cake before he cut you a slice, but he did prompt you to make a wish anyway. For the first time in a long while, it didn't even occur to you to wish for your freedom. You silently wished that treatment like this wouldn't be saved solely for your birthday going forward.

When it came time to open your presents, you were intensely curious. It was long since evident by now that Leon had studied your life and your interests long before he ever took you in, so there was no telling what he might have thought up for you. As you carefully untied the ribbon on the smaller of the two boxes, your heart began to race a little bit. Leon's gaze was practically burning holes into you as you opened the box.

Inside was an immaculate ring, and you didn't even want to imagine how much it must have cost. The band was lined with small glittering diamonds that came together in the middle to wind around a specimen of your favorite stone.

"Leon..." You gasped softly, plucking the ring from the satin it was perched in, and before you had a chance to, he gently took it from your hand and slipped it on to your ring finger. Of course, it was a perfect fit. "It's beautiful... thank you."

Brushing a lock of your hair behind your ear, Leon kissed your forehead and smiled, admiring the way the stones glittered in the low light. "You deserve it, sweet girl. You've been such a little angel for me lately."

You were a bit shocked by how good it felt to hear him say that. The more you thought about it, the more you realized how hard you'd been trying lately, and as dark as it might have been, it was absurdly validating to have him acknowledge that.

Entirely of your own volition, you drew him in for a hug, pretending for just one moment that this was all completely normal, that Leon was just your boyfriend who was being sweet by treating you to a private birthday celebration. 

He granted you another kiss before pulling away, gesturing toward the second box on the table. "One more, sweetheart. Go ahead and open it."

Your eyes were mostly drawn to the shimmering ring on your finger as you pulled apart the ribbon and took off the top-- your attention, however, was quickly pulled back in to the contents of the box as soon as the lid was off. Nestled safely in a bed of tissue paper was a collar and leash, baby pink in color and noticeably high quality, possibly even custom made. Dangling from the collar was a heart shaped tag, Princess engraved in the middle. Suddenly your face began to burn and all those sweet feelings from just moments before melted away into that familiar sense of horror you'd gotten so used to.

But you knew he was waiting for an answer. Hesitantly, you looked up at him with a forced smile and said, "It's beautiful, daddy."

Leon pulled you into his lap, peppering your cheek and jaw with a barrage of kisses as he gathered your hair at the base of your neck in preparation to put the collar on you. "I'm glad you like it, pretty baby," He spoke into your ear, nibbling softly at the shell. "Gotta make sure you know you're all mine."

Your breath hitched as you felt the piece clasp into place around your neck, and only seconds later he was clipping the leash to the loop in the front and giving it a quick little tug just to test it out. Whimpering softly, you leaned back into his broad chest and rested your head on his shoulder, trying so hard now to forget about the ring on your finger.

For your birthday, he got you two presents that really only benefitted him by symbolizing your commitment. You were about to find out that he intended to make that three. 

"Now, let's see how well you train on that leash, baby."

He tugged at it again, stepping around you to begin leading you toward the stairs, and it didn't exactly take a stroke of genius to discern where he might be taking you. Your throat tightened and your face burned as you were left with no choice but to fall in line behind him. You wanted to dig your heels into the floor and resist, but you also wanted to bask in how nice he was being to you, relatively speaking anyway.

At least for your birthday, you chose peace.

Leon was impressed with your behavior as he led you into the bedroom. He honestly expected a healthy amount of resistance, and to be met with none felt euphoric. Maybe you really had come around, he thought to himself, and he couldn't help but smirk.

Walking you over to the end of the bed, Leon looped some of the excess leash around his knuckles and caressed your cheek with his other hand, guiding you forward until you were standing in front of him, your back pressed against his chest. He gave you a kiss to the crown of your head before stooping down to whisper in your ear, "Get on the bed, on your hands and knees."

His tone was gentle but his words made you frown to yourself. Still, you obeyed without question, shaking limbs wobbling to steady yourself on the plush bed. You felt especially vulnerable like this, unable to see what he was doing without making a show of craning your neck, without showing your fear. He played with your hair for a moment before tracing his fingers down your spine, cresting at your tailbone where he began to greedily tug at the hem of your shirt, pulling it up and over your head and off the leash before finally discarding it to the floor.

He leaned in over your back to smooth his hand up and down the curves of your waist, dipping forward to cup one of your breasts and tease your pebbled nipple. You could already feel his cock against your lower back, distinctly hardening in his jeans. He gave the leash another gentle pull, as if just to remind you that it was there.

"Look at the birthday girl, behaving so well on her new leash," He mused, pressing a wet kiss to the base of your neck. "So sweet for me, letting daddy play with you and make you feel good, huh?"

You nodded, melting at his touch and praises despite your better judgment. Without having to face him, it was easier than you expected to pretend this was normal. And maybe you did deserve a treat for your birthday, to be made to feel good for no other reason than as a celebration of your life.

Your life. Lately you didn't feel there was much to celebrate, but that was neither here nor there. If you closed your eyes, it was just another day. If you closed your eyes, you were back in your apartment. If you closed your eyes, Leon was only your well-meaning boyfriend who just so happened to be into kinky shit.

Now it was your shorts and panties being yanked down in one swift movement, bunching at your bent knees, but he didn't bother to fully remove them. He didn't need to. His clothed cock rutted impatiently against your exposed sex, sparking up that familiar wet heat of pleasure to begin building between your thighs. Suddenly you were the impatient one.

Lucky enough for you, you didn't even get a chance to complain before he was lowering to his knees at the end of the bed, burying his face between your legs to lap at your slick folds from behind. You let out a quiet whine and attempted to wiggle your hips closer to his affection-- he thought about yanking at your leash to tell you 'no,' but, hey... it was your birthday. So he let it slide.

His skilled tongue lapped at every drop of you, swirling and sucking at your clit and routinely wandering back to trace over your fluttering hole, determined not to let any of your arousal go to waste. Every little gasp and whine that fell from your lips served to spur him on, and now he was tugging at your leash just for fun, amused by the way you would choke a little bit and gasp for breath every time.

"Tastes so fucking good," He groaned into your cunt, the vibrations making you squirm and want for more. "Like candy. My own little puppy girl lollipop."

Eager as he was to fuck you right then and there, he couldn't stop himself from drinking you in like ice water on a hot day. You deserved it, after all, his sweet little puppy princess. So, in spite of himself, he took his time with you.

His free hand ghosted up the inside of your thigh to tease at your dripping hole, watching in awe as his own digit sank into you, and then another. He observed with stars in his eyes as your needy cunt seemed to suck him in deeper, only solidifying to him just how badly you really wanted it. More often than not, you would shy away whenever he initiated, but not today. Not on your birthday.

Leon curled his fingers up in search of that familiar spongy spot that made you cry out and go weak, your knees wobbling on the mattress as you readjusted your arms in an attempt to hold yourself up. It was cute, he thought, just how easy it was to make you fall apart at the seams.

"Daddy," You gasped out, slippery walls clenching tightly around his fingers. "Please, please..."

And again, typically he would make you verbalize what you wanted, if it were any other day. You could have asked him for practically anything right now and he would have given it to you, so he did.

"Alright, alright, sweetheart," He said, withdrawing his fingers from you to rise back up on his feet and discard his own clothing. "Can't keep the birthday girl waiting. That wouldn't be very nice, would it?"

"Mm-mm," You shook your head in agreement, trembling and wiggling your hips without even really realizing it.

He couldn't help but chuckle lowly at this, a smirk tugging at his face as his cock sprung free from his boxers with a quiet, wet slap against his navel. Giving himself a few gentle strokes just to ease the pressure, Leon pulled you up by your leash just a little bit to surprise you and ensure your attention before lining himself up at your entrance, fucking into you with an uncommon gentleness.

Your head was spinning, mouth falling open with a slow, pleasured mewl at the feeling of him splitting you open like that, every inch of him dragging deliciously against your inner workings until the head of him bumped against your cervix, giving you a little jolt. You were already panting for breath, your hair falling in front of your face and you couldn't even care enough to move it as he stilled inside you for a moment, reveling in the warm, tight cavern of you.

Then, with a soft groan, he began to rock into you. The bedroom was blooming with the scent of sex as your arousal only continued to grow, slicking his length with your juices.

"F-Fuck," You whined, head falling forward to rest lazily on the mattress and as a result, your legs spread just a little wider to accommodate the new position, allowing him to drive even deeper into you than you were expecting. Your face went red hot and you barely realized you were drooling a little bit as he gripped you by your hip and drove into you with ardor.

"That's right, pretty baby," Leon cooed, looping your leash around his knuckles a few more times just so he could see the fucked-out look on your face. "Feels so good, doesn't it?"

You nodded dumbly in place of a more proper response, knowing you could get away with it tonight. 

"Mhm, I know it does. Just look at you," He mused.

And in that moment, he decided he really wanted to just look at you. So he yanked at your leash harder than ever before, drawing you upright until your back was flush against his chest, his mouth right in your ear so he could kiss you and taunt you. The pace of his hips picked up speed as he continued to lose himself to the feeling of your plush walls and the sounds of your incoherent whining, your chest heaving for breath as the leash pressed on your throat just enough to make you feel a little tingly and weak.

His warm hand closed around your breast, kneading and playing and tugging at your nipple just to make you squirm. You were such a perfect little plaything.

“So cute… Just so fucking cute,” The words were growled out right into your ear and you clenched around him in response, face burning. “Maybe for my birthday this year, you can really make me a daddy. Give me a little baby just like you to fawn over and spoil.”

And sure, you knew it would be a terrible idea to agree to that, but… you weren’t exactly in the clearest state of mind right now. So you nodded, your head falling back to rest on his shoulder while he drove into you with a measured pace, his hand roaming down to rest on your stomach.

“Yeah? Gonna let me fuck a baby into you, sweet thing? You want daddy’s baby for your birthday?”

It was evident that he’d learned by now you could be especially pliant while otherwise distracted. You were crying out yes and please without even really thinking about it– or whole-heartedly agreeing with it, which he knew, but didn’t really care so long as it benefitted him in the end.

Your climax was fast approaching and he knew it, judging by the way you were pulsing around him and squirming in his tight hold, your breaths short and quick and your skin burning hot. With a knowing grin that you couldn’t see, he lowered his hand once more until the tips of his fingers found your engorged bud like muscle memory, rubbing tight circles with just the right amount of pressure that he knew would be enough to send you over the edge.

“There you go baby, c’mon,” He grunted into your ear, “Let go for me…”

The added stimulation had you twitching and shaking, your eyes screwed shut as you clawed at his arms for any sort of purchase. A string of curses and whines crested from your pouting lips until you began to convulse around him, a rush of arousal spilling out around his cock. The warm, wet feeling of you alone was enough to tip him over into his own end, and you were graced with the distinct feeling of his cock erupting into your waiting womb.

He rutted into you a few more gentle times, pressing a languid kiss to your cheek before dropping the leash, forcing you back down to the mattress by the back of your head. You whimpered and squirmed uncomfortably as you felt the gravity drive his load deeper into you, and it didn’t take a stroke of genius to discern he had done it on purpose.

“Better sit still like that, pup, let nature take its course,” Leon said as though it was obvious, taking a few steps back to admire the image of you. “Did you have a good birthday?”

You felt quite gross, sure, but all things considered… “Yeah, I-I did. Thank you, daddy…”

[jilymicrofics]

Our amazing writers have come together to sow a little extra love this Valentine's Day. Here to make everyone's heart blossom with joy at the astounding 19 fics!

Mia and Monty's Potion Shop by @tedwardremus for eclipsedechoesofmywords

After the death of his parents, James Potter takes over ownership of the family potion shop. He has to pass the Ministry's mandatory inspection to ensure he his following all safety regulations. Unfortunately for him, the Ministry inspector is his old Hogwarts rival and crush - Lily Evans.

Memories by @siriuslychessi for juniperpyre

James wants to show Lily a very special place in the castle but Lily is not patient enough to get surprised.

Neither Of Them by @eclipsedechoesofmywords for Constanzin

his wife by @juniperpyre for chiaraforfun

James interrupts an Order meeting to argue that Lily shouldn't be sent into the field under any circumstances. Lily is pissed, but kind of turned on. or Lily: you should be addicted to shutting the fuck up James: you wanna fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid

Castles Made of Sand by @practicecourts for Annabtg

Every single member of the noble and most ancient house of Black has to show up, however unwilling he or she might be, to any Black family event. It's the cursed tapestry. Sirius Black has tried pretty much everything he can think of to get himself off of the blasted thing, nothing so far has worked, until he meets an old friend from school. Lily Evans is absolutely sure she'll manage to turn the prodigal son and heir of the Blacks into a persona non grata, within three dates. Everything goes about as well as you'd expect.

Second Time's The Charm by @tinyluminaryzombie for @abihastastybeans

James kisses Lily and then dashes, leaving her to devise a plan. The goal? To be James's girlfriend by the end of the night.

Like I lived my whole life before the first light by @annabtg for Annasghost

The spark between them flares into life on the first day and never goes out. Lily thinks nothing of it at first — it’s just there, and he’s just a boy — but over the years, as she grows up and learns of life, there are some moments where it shines brighter. A heavenly provision, one might say; a little ray of light to brighten the cold, damp February mornings. Or: Five Valentine stories where James Potter came first in Lily Evans's heart and the one time he didn't.

Second Chances by @annasghosts for Emmathecasualauthor

Headquarters, 9 pm. For James Potter, it’s another Order meeting. For Lily Evans, it’s the crack that threatens to tear her carefully constructed world apart and force her to face the past she fled five years ago.

Something Big by @chiaraforfun for jjameslily

James wants to do a snowball fight

In Love, With Extra Credit by @livelaughlovetoread for Eastwindmlk

He's annoying. He's a nerd. He's handsome. And, He's hers. A Seventh-year Fluffy Sexy Jily

The Space Between by @jjameslily for Nena-96

Trapped at the Three Broomsticks during a snowstorm, James never expected that a night spent with a certain sharp-tongued rival would stir up feelings he hadn’t realized were there.

I Bet You Think About Me by @wearingaberetinparis for neverenoughmarauders

“Do you think about it sometimes?” Her voice was soft, shy almost, and when he looked up in surprise he noticed that her face was pinker than it had been a moment before. “About -?” He trailed off. “Yeah,” she nodded. “I mean…” he started, feeling as if he might as well lay his soul bare if he were to admit to the fact that he had never stopped thinking about what had happened between them just over a year ago, “… do you?

a woman taken by the wind by @littlefoldedpaperstars for siriuslychessi

“What?” James asked, slightly offended that he was being kicked out. “What are you guys doing?” “Performing human sacrifices,” said Marlene, heavy on the sarcasm. “Drinking the blood of men,” said Lily, notably less sarcastic than Marlene. James didn't have a vampire fetish, but if that was what Lily was into, he would be cool with it. - Or: James is immediately enchanted when he meets Lily and her one-eyed cat. Lily thinks she'd be better off alone (not counting her four cats).

In the Cracks of Light by @emmathecasualauthor for wearingaberetinparis

He blinks several times, and Lily can tell he’s trying to work out what he’s seeing. Who he’s seeing. Then, whatever has been keeping him( from registering the sight in front of him falls, because he manages to speak. “Lily?” Her heart positively plummets. In which Lily Evans is a Muggleborn street thief, and her latest target is a man she hasn't seen since she was seventeen.

Hold My Hand by @neverenoughmarauders for practicecourts

Lily Evans has spent months convincing herself that keeping her distance is the best way to protect her and James' friendship. On September 1st, her resolve to keep away must come to an end. However, the summer has only served to have her heart ache more for James, which spells trouble.

(Un)Happy Accidents by @eastwindmlk for tedwardremus

James Potter wants to ask Lily Evans something important, but it seems like the universe is against him and he regales his misadventures to his friends.

Scene from a Marriage Proposal by @constancezin for tinyluminaryzombie

A Sunday Kind of Love by @formerlympp for littlefoldedpaperstars

Lily never would have imagined moving into a flat where three men already lived together and all she could hope for were relatively tidy, non-axe murderers, who would let her live in peace. But life had other plans for her, and it all started with a simple Sunday morning.

Date Night by @nena-96 for livelaughlovetoread

James meets Richard Evans before taking Lily out on a date, but it seems that Richard wants to make sure his daughter won't get into any sorts of mischief. As always chaos ensues. or "What in Merlins saggy balls is going on here?!" Lily shouted.

[lsunstreakerl]

little darkbull carlos and max snippet! 800-900 words, kind of fluffy, all things considered.

Hi! still darkbull verse. mature content implied and all that.

Carlos is trying to review onboards at the factory when Max comes back in, strolls right across the floor and settles on top of him on the couch. There's no hesitation in it anymore- maybe there was when they were a bit younger, and Max still had Jos' voice in his head, slimy and oil slick, telling him what not to do.

Carlos doesn't really think about that Max too much. He's much different from the current Max, who's winding their legs together and propping his chin onto Carlos's chest, blue eyes blinking at him.

He gives up on the onboard review, settles the tablet down on the floor as he runs his hands down Max's back, fingers tracing the ridges of his spine.

"I thought you were with Danny?"

Max hums, bringing one hand up to carefully curl Carlos's hair around his fingers.

"I was. But he is stressed about next weekend, and I did not want him to have to pretend to feel better around me."

Carlos hums, twisting his head to kiss the inside of Max's wrist, just above the bracelets. He's more observant than he lets on, Max.

Painfully oblivious about the real reason, sure, but not stupid. He's clearly picked up on the fact that Daniel tries not to show stress around him- around either of them, really- but he's attributing it to the wrong thing.

Carlos knows Daniel is stressed because they're doing well this season. They're doing well, and they're riding the high, the whole team is, but-

They'll have to come down eventually. Max will be upset, when it inevitably happens. Daniel and Carlos have a responsibility to try and mitigate that damage.

There's a folded piece of paper in Carlos's dresser drawer, his own loopy cursive and Daniel's rough scrawl, passed back and forth and folded so many times that parts of it are illegible now.

It's their list of things Max likes. What pulls him out of a funk, what he does to let off steam, what they can do to him that turns him into liquid between them, sweet and melted and soft.

Carlos runs his thumb along the inside of Max's wrist. The decoy tracker is embedded there, a slight bump that Max thinks is a weird bone spur. It's not the actual tracker- he has one nestled next to his spine and another tucked deep into his ankle- but it still gives a signal and a heart rate. Enough to be convincing, if it got closely inspected.

Some might think Redbull is stupid, putting one so obviously in the wrist, but Redbull has a bit of a partier reputation- it's believable that it's the only tracker they have.

Nobody would expect the redundancies, even if they should- Max is Redbull's prized possession. They would never compromise his safety.

He breaths out a soft laugh.

'Never'- except for when Max is in the car. Carlos half wonders if they'll ever pull him out of it, tell him he can't drive anymore.

He wonders if Max is in too deep to notice.

He wonders if Max is in too deep to care.

Max presses a kiss to his jaw before tucking his head into Carlos's shoulder.

"Something funny?"

Carlos presses his fingers a little further into the dip of Max's back, applies pressure the way he knows he likes as Max goes liquid on top of him with a soft sigh.

"Just thinking about Danny. You know how he is."

Max hums, lips pressed into Carlos's skin. They're getting chapped again- he needs to get him more lip balm. Max doesn't believe in it- thinks it's stupid- but he'll sit still for Daniel if he asks, will patiently let Daniel press it into his lips until they're soft and shiny.

Probably because he knows he'll get kisses from them both out of it.

"I wish I could just tell him to stop worrying. The team is doing well, it will of course be okay."

Carlos rests his chin in Max's hair. He'll need to talk to Daniel sometime tonight, after Max has fallen asleep. Figure something out to sooth the anxiety. They've got a break coming up soon, and Max will go with GP and his family, so things need to be good when he leaves.

If GP gets even a hint of dissatisfaction from Max-

Carlos puts the thought out of his mind. Max isn't acting dissatisfied right now- just concerned. He's being sweet.

"He'll be alright, just needs to have some time to think it through. I'm glad you came to me."

Max hums again, but it's softer already, half dozing.

"Read to me."

Carlos feels his mouth twitch up involuntarily into a soft smile. Max likes to fall asleep like that sometimes, with Carlos reading one of his novels out loud.

It's definitely the accent thing- Max has a preference for it.

He lowers one hand to feel around underneath the couch. Pack of gum, condom wrapper, gun, Xbox controller- there.

He pulls the book out with his fingertips, patting it against the side of the couch a few times in case there's any dust on it before flipping it open, holding it in one hand while the other moves over Max's spine in slow strokes.

Max shifts a bit before falling still again.

Carlos begins to read.