#okay okay I think I'm done this got a little out of hand I'm just like

[shouyuus]

Hear me out on this🤚🏼 vi and reader arguing over something stupid and reader says something sideways that’s like Loki kinda freaky and vis like oh yeah mf and then boom freaky time but a bit of rough talk so vi can get reader to admit she’s right???

hahahahahahah /gunshots/ this grew legs and ran off on its own omfg; hope u enjoy!!! also credit where credit is due i immediately thought of this textpost when i saw this ask so. 18+, mdni dom/slightly mean!vi, college roommate!vi cinematic universe

"fuck you."

"no fuck you -- y'know what -- why don't you just edge me into next tuesday -- that'd be less painful --"

"i --" vi blinks, staring at you as you run your hands through your hair, still mumbling to yourself, apparently entirely unaware of the change your words have just wrought in her.

a spate of desire twists knife-sharp in her gut as vi imagines pressing you in half, a hand wrapped around your throat the other teasing between your legs, the way your hips might jump if she curled her fingers just so.

she wonders how quick she could get you begging; she wonders, a second later, how quick it'd get her on the edge when here she is, careening towards it at the mere thought of taking you apart.

"ugh -- whatever, i have to get back to my research paper -- i don't have time to --"

vi's arm shoots out and she's got her fingers wreathed around your wrist before she can stop herself. your alarmed look catches like a spark in the dry-grass tickle of her stomach and suddenly there's heat pluming up the back of her neck like smoke as she backs you into the apartment wall, licking her lips as she watches confusion and the hazy sheen of unmistakable want flicker to light behind your eyes.

"v-vi?"

she almost shivers. she thinks it's a testament to how well she's always treated you that you don't sound frightened -- only curious, and a little surprised.

"we're not done here, princess -- and i don't really think i like it when you try to walk away from me like that," she whispers, leaning in close enough to feel the way your breath stutters in your chest.

"vi -- i don't -- this isn't --"

but her questioning smirk as she pulls back silences the stumbling words on your lips as your cheeks go dark and your eyes cut away from hers.

"aww, c'mon princess --" and this time, she leans into the word like it might be an insult, doesn't miss the way your lashes flutter or the way your breathing's shallowed out to small little hitches, or the fact that you're stock still against the wall, even though her grip is light and there's nothing to stop you from pulling away.

"where's that fire from a second ago? weren't you just calling me a bad roommate for always forgetting to run the dishwasher before i leave?"

you swallow, the bob in your throat making her heart skitter up her ribcage like climbing up monkey bars.

"that... okay fine -- that was mean -- but it's not like i was lying about the --" your voice pitches as you look back up at her, and for a second, the hard light in your eyes catches again, only to sputter out as you meet her gaze for the second time, a guttering candle to a winter's breeze. vi bites back a grin. this is too easy.

"mm, but it still hurt my feelings, princess..." vi coos, leaning in to brush her lips by your cheek, reveling in the way you tremble beneath her, "and really, i don't think i'm that bad of a roommate, right? i take care of you, don't i?"

the moment her lips catch the lobe of your ear, you let out a soft whimper that makes vi's vision tilt sideways. and before she knows it, she's sucking a dark hickey into the skin of your neck and your fingers are fisting in her hair, making her groan.

she sinks her teeth into your skin, pulling back to pin you bodily to the wall, pressing a leg up between yours just to hear you keen.

"admit it -- don't i take good care of you?"

you whine through pursed lips, your eyes glazed out as you frown up at her, nodding faintly. she grins, feeling the heady, full-body rush of knowing she's got you right where she's been wanting you for weeks, for months.

"c'mon, say it --" she teases her free hand down the length of your body to flip up the hem of the large t-shirt you're wearing (it's one of hers; the thought catches her off-guard like punch to the side, the knowledge of it wringing through her with a bell-toll of desire) to skim along the hem of your cotton panties.

"y-you're -- you're not a bad roommate -- vi --" you twitch as she dips her fingers into the waistband of your panties and slicks a finger between your folds, hissing out at how wet you already are.

vi's grin is sour-candy-cyanide as she pulls back, her gaze half-lidded as she watches you chewing on your bottom lip.

"god, princess -- did that turn you on?" she asks, though both of you know the question is useless and purely rhetorical. she swallows down a thick moan as she inches a finger between your messy cunt lips to tease at your entrance. your answering huff only makes her chuckle, and this time, she does groan out when she finally eases her finger into you, feeling your hot, wet walls flutter around her, making her own cunt twinge with want.

"mm... i think i'd still like a formal apology -- tell you what," she says, putting on a false, considerate air even as she teases her finger in and out of you, nice and slow, almost thoughtlessly as she cocks her head, "admit that you were wrong and... we'll call it even, yeah?"

immediately, she sees you stiffen, feels you clench down around her as your eyes snap up. you've always hated admitting you were wrong, and even when you have apologized in the past, you've always danced around the words. and vi had thought it was just a cute little quirk of yours, chalked it up to your massive brain -- it must be so hard for someone so smart, so used to be in unequivocally correct all the time to admit, out loud, that they'd been mistaken.

a rush of heat crests into her chest at the thought, and she quirks her finger inside you to brush against the tender spot she knows will get your eyes rolling.

and it does, but not before you give your head a tiny, obdurate shake.

vi sighs, licking her lips as she brushes her thumb against your clit and watches, with a thrumming satisfaction, as your mouth falls open around a silent moan.

"just three little words, princess -- and then... i promise, i'll make you feel so good..." she croons the words into your ear, shudders at the thought of making you cum, of how good you'd look shaking over her fingers. "unless," she hums, "you really would like me to edge you into next tuesday, which --" she makes a noncommittal sound, "saturday afternoon and i've got early morning practice tomorrow, but i'm sure something can be arranged."

you let out another debauched moan as she bullies a second finger into your wet heat, still fucking them into you at that mind-bogglingly slow pace. you try to arch your hips, but her other hand slams you back against the wall.

she tuts, leaning back ever so slightly.

"uh-uh, i don't think so."

you scowl and try to shove at her shoulder, but there's no strength in the motion and the hand on your hip flashes up a second later to grab both your wrists, pinning them above your head in a single fluid move.

it happens so quickly you barely have time to gasp before she's leaning forward again, her words hot as she murmurs into your ear --

"go on, princess, try to fight back -- give me a reason to get rough with you."

at once, you still, but the you give both your wrists an experimental tug, only for vi to tighten her hold. you can't quite stop the moan that works its way out of your throat, nor can you control the way your pussy slickens impossibly around her fingers as she laughs, the sound caught somewhere between amused and mocking.

"gonna admit that you were wrong, princess?" she asks, crooking an eyebrow.

you press your lips and whine, looking away. her fingers pump a few more times inside you, her thumb finding your clit with truly disarming ease.

"vi -- f-fuck --!" you yelp as she flicks her thumb and your whole body jolts, electric tendrils of pleasure ricocheting through you, harsh as a loose bullet.

"there y'go... c'mon -- be a good girl and say it --" vi can't quite stop the way her voice frays around the edges as she leans in to ghost her lips over yours, her vision tunneling as she starts to fuck you with her fingers proper, working them into you in tandem with the rhythm of your hips, watching as you expression falls slack.

"mm -- nnngh -- please, vi -- i --"

"ah... that's pretty good but... still not an apology," she muses, slowing her pace again, dragging both her fingers along your inner walls, pressing them up, watching as your eyes squeeze shut, your entire body jerking as she massages your clit from both ends.

"i -- i'm s-sorry, 'm sorry, i -- i was wrong -- fuck -- oh -- shit, that feels -- v-vi --!"

"thereee you go... that wasn't so hard, was it?" vi soothes, picking up the pace, grinning as you keen, your knees nearly giving out, but she's got you held up by your wrists, her thigh still slotted between yours, her fingers plowing into you till you're almost writhing against her.

she lets out a long groan, low and thick, a panting gasp working out of her as she fucks you through your orgasm, watching with soft-eyed wonder as you whimper, your whole body twitching with the aftershocks.

"hey, hey, princess -- you still with me?" she asks, letting go of your wrists in favor of cupping your cheek, swiping a tender thumb along your skin. you lean into her touch, your head lolling ever so slightly as your lashes flutter and you fight to focus your eyes.

"y-yeah -- think so..."

vi laughs, slowly tugging her fingers from you, unable to keep a grin from twisting at the corner of her mouth as you shudder at the loss.

"jesus, princess..." she says, holding up her hand -- there's wetness slicking down the back of her hand all the way to her wrist. you blink at it for a second before a tiny, embarrassed scowl digs itself between your brows.

"i -- you --"

vi laughs, shaking out her hand and reaching for an errant napkin on the dining table to wipe down her fingers.

"no, no -- i'm not makin' fun -- it's actually kinda hot."

you purse your lips, cheeks stained damson as she watches you readjust your panties, tugging on the hem of her large t-shirt.

"still think i'm a bad roommate?" vi asks, biting back a smile, her heart caught somewhere in the back of her throat.

you look up, eyes bright, your head already shaking.

"no! i -- that was --" your head drops back down even as your shoulders shrug up, "i... i was just annoyed but i -- i didn't mean it --"

a beat, in which vi finishes cleaning off her hand and strides over to throw the wad of napkin in the trash.

"i... i'm sorry," you say, your voice small.

vi looks up to find you watching her from beneath your lashes.

"'s okay, princess. apology accepted." she smiles, and this time there's no poison hidden in it's corners, only the steady sweetness you've come to know her for.

"i -- uhm --" you clear your throat, still worrying at the hem of the shirt. vi cocks her head.

"i can make it up to you... if you want --" you say, barely meeting her eyes.

vi pauses, her eyebrows kicking up. a second later, she's grinning again, rolling back her shoulders and leaning into one of her hips.

"yeah? and... how'dyou propose you do that?"

you bite down on your bottom lip and jerk your head towards the open door of your bedroom, even as vi's stomach gives an unruly lurch at the clear implication.

she fights to keep her expression flat as she looks you over.

"damn, princess -- you really weren't kidding about that tuesday-thing, huh?"

you crinkle your nose, sniffing slightly, even as vi brushes by you, breezing into your bedroom and plopping herself onto your bed with a satisfied sigh. you follow her in a moment later, climbing on after her and giving her shoulder a tiny shove so that she's backed up against the apartment wall and you've got room to straddle her lap.

"well... i have been thinking about it for... for a while," you admit, your voice soft as you thumb at the collar of her shirt.

vi groans, her palms settling around your waist, fingers digging into the plush of your ass.

"yeah? oh fuck -- ah --" she jerks as you trail your hands down her front, pausing to tease her nipples over the material of her shirt.

"mhm..."

"what else have you been imagining in that big, beautiful brain of yours, hm?" vi asks, breath hitching as you tug the shirt from her and lean down to ghost your mouth over her hardening nipples, tongue flickering out to tease at the cold metal piercings.

"lotsa stuff," you say, almost casual as you wiggle down to settle yourself comfortably between her legs, glancing up at her with what can only be called a chesire-grin --

"w-wanna tell me about it?" vi asks, reaching up a hand to run her fingers through your hair. you hum, laving a tongue against her nipple before sucking the entire thing into your mouth.

a groan punches out of her as she shudders, her head tipping back with a dull thunk against the apartment wall.

"i could... but it'd be so much faster if i just... showed you, no?"

[pearlofthewoods]

Oh OKAY JANE ESPENSON with After Life!

So the beautiful scene that begun this whole thread… was written by a woman?

Sounds about right. ↕️🙂

(Thank you thank you Jane Espenson for all you gave to us Spuffy girlies 🥰, we are forever in your debt.)

But honestly, I never even considered that there would be such a gendered split between the healthier Spuffy writing and the more toxic-ish Spuffy writing. I just thought it might be a change in writers in general that created some of the more inconsistent-with-previous-episodes characterisation.

But now I realise it that was that, but it was also probably something to do with the men.

So I now feel very vindicated in questioning it in my earlier post.

Thanks so much for doing the research @aphony-cree. 🙏 This was a very enlightening read.

p.s. And in honour of Jane Espenson, I’m including the two scenes that first made me truly fall in love with Spuffy, all those years ago.

(snippet from the gorgeous Buffyverse Wiki ‘After Life’ transcript since Tumblr won’t let me add 2 videos at once 🥲)

DAWN: Spike? Are *you* okay?

SPIKE: I'm ... what did you do?

DAWN: Me? Nothing.

Buffy clutches the top of her shirt closed, looks up at Spike a little fearfully.

SPIKE: Her hands.

Buffy lowers her hands, puts them behind her back, looks uncomfortable.

DAWN: Um, I was gonna fix 'em. I don't know how they got like that.

SPIKE: I do. Clawed her way out of a coffin, that's how. (to Buffy) Isn't that right?

BUFFY: (quietly) Yeah. That's ... what I had to do.

SPIKE: Done it myself.

Throughout this, Spike continues staring at her as if he thinks he's dreaming. Now he snaps out of it.

SPIKE: Um ... We'll take care of you. Come here.

He puts out his arm and guides Buffy into the living room.

SPIKE: (to Dawn) Get some stuff, uh, mercurochrome, bandages.

DAWN: Okay.

Dawn goes off. Spike follows Buffy into the living room. She sits on the sofa and he sits on the coffee-table facing her. He takes her hands in his and looks at them. Then he looks up at her face and their eyes meet.

BUFFY: How long was I gone?

SPIKE: Hundred forty-seven days yesterday. Uh ... hundred forty-eight today. (smiles a little) 'Cept today doesn't count, does it?

And secondly;

“But I want you to know I did save you. Not when it counted, of course, but ... after that. Every night after that. I'd see it all again ... do something different. Faster or more clever, you know? Dozens of times, lots of different ways ... (softly) Every night I save you.”

So thank you Jane Espenson, for giving me the version of Spuffy and of Spike that I’ll always carry in my heart.

The gentler, kinder version that I always hoped they’d find their way back to. This was the goal. This was the aim. And by the end of Season 7, I think they were finally getting there again. They just took the long way round.

Buffy wanting some time alone then telling Spike "That's okay. I can be alone with you here" is one of the most romantic lines ever, but then they followed it up with Spike telling her "Buffy, if you're in … if you're in pain … or if you need anything… or if I can do anything for you.." and they really expected us to think they were bad together and shouldn't be a couple

[nubiawrites]

chapter five

Pairing: Aaron Pierre x Black Original Character

Warnings: Slow burn. 18+. Smut. oral (giving and receiving). alcohol. talks of safe sex.

Summary: Aaron and Iriye have a nightcap, tensions being released as new connections are formed.

Notes: Everyone say thank you to GQ and Aaron's sleeve. I told you all the next chapter would be worth it. Enjoy and let me know what you think

MASTERLIST

Aaron's fingers drummed steadily against the wheel as he drove Iriye and himself back to his place. The Bluetooth in his card played some Sade as Aaron drove them in comfortable silence. 

This was not Iriye's first one-night stand, but it was with someone like Aaron—a collaborator, an artist, an actor. As they inched closer to his place, her anxiety got the best of her.

"I've never done this before," Iriye blurted out. Aaron had parked the car in the parking garage of his apartment, and he paused.

"Like had sex?" Aaron raised both eyebrows, and Iriye swatted his arm. 

"I've had sex. Trust me," Iriye sighed. "I don't sleep with talent. I never have,"

"Okay," He nodded.

"Because I respect you. And I love my job. And I love this project. And I don't make this a habit," Iriye rambled.

Aaron just smirked as she kept talking, seeing the defenses fall. She was always so sharp and on it, and he liked that, but this made her more endearing.

"What are you thinking?" Iriye asked. "Because if it is and I'm crazy, I will happily Uber home, and we can just—" He cut her off by leaning in for a kiss. The movement took her aback, but she ultimately relaxed into the gentle and sweet kiss. 

Iriye pulled back once fully relaxed and hummed, her eyes opening to look at Aaron's face. 

"Well, if you're wondering what I'm thinking, I don't care if you've never done this or have done this a million times," Aaron stated. "As Nelly and many other women I know would say, you're a grown-ass woman,"

"Please say that again. I need to hear it with your accent and all," Iriye teased. Aaron rolled his eyes before leaning in. 

"Grown-ass woman," Aaron repeated, and Iriye giggled. "Let's just see what happens. No pressure,"

Iriye nodded, and Aaron got out of the car. Iriye would do the same when he rushed to her side to open the door, holding his hand out for her. She took it and got out of the car.

"Thank you," Iriye said. Locking up his car, his hand never left hers as he guided her inside the apartment building.

They entered his apartment, and Aaron let her step inside first. She smiled at the place once he switched on the light, which matched Aaron's energy. 

"Your place is nice. Very homey," She moved to sit on the couch.

“Thank you,” He said before stepping into the kitchen. “You want anything?”

“I’ll have whatever you are having,” Iriye said, looking around at the record collections under the TV. She saw a few books stacked neatly on his coffee table, her eyes peeping at a familiar title. She smiled to herself when Aaron came back with two glasses.

“My whiskey sours may not be as great as yours,” he said, placing the glass in her hand. She chuckled. 

“I’ll be the judge,” Iriye sipped the drink and hummed. “Just a little bit more lemon,” She moved to pull the book on the top of his stack. “How are you liking the Last Days of Ptolemy Grey,” 

“Interestingly enough, I like it. I figured I would read it first before watching. Someone has great taste in literature,” Aaron tilted his head towards her.

“I mean, I do know some things about writing,” Iriye shrugged playfully. Turning to him, she moved to make herself more comfortable but realized her boots were still on. She was about to reach down and take them off, not wanting to seem like she didn’t have any home training.

"I got you,"  Aaron said, his British accent with that deep timber of a voice. Her stomach clenched deliciously, trying to be demure. He moved to lift her legs into his lap. “May I?” Iriye was too distracted by how smooth he was, nodding her head along.

Aaron kept his eyes on her before unzipping the first boot, his thumb smoothing over the revealed skin along the way. Iriye let out a soft breath, feeling him pull the boot off. He did the other, and she kept her legs over his lap.

“Was that an excuse to keep me close?” Iriye raised a brow at him, Aaron rubbing her legs.

“Would that be so bad? To want you close, love,” Aaron questioned.

“No,” Iriye felt his hand moved to her cheek. 

“Come here,” Aaron stated, pulling her closer by her chin. She leaned in and kissed him softly for a moment. Getting reacquainted with the soft, full lips on hers, the feel of his trimmed mustache near her face. When she pulled back, he leaned his head against hers. “I’m taking this however you want to,”

“That might be the hottest thing I ever heard,” Iriye admitted, pulling him close again and kissing him. His hand moved to stroke her legs as they were on his lap. She hummed, his fingertips sending shivers up her spine. They fell into a comfortable rhythm, her hands moving to his neck and cheek. His tongue looked for permission to lick into her mouth, and she gave it to him gladly.

They continued kissing that way, tongues clashing as they moved in sync. Aaron pulled away, moving his hands to pull her closer. But Iriye stopped him, lying back on the couch.

“You look so good like this,” Aaron stated.

“I’m still in my clothes,” Iriye stated.

“Imagine what you would look like splayed here without them,” His words made her press her legs together. 

“Then get me out of them,” With those words, Aaron advanced on her, legs falling apart to fit his hips against hers. Her jean dress pushed up some, and she let her hands fall to his neck as she connected their lips again.

Aaron placed one hand by her head, not wanting to settle too much weight on her as they made out. She felt his hand trail to her thigh, and she pressed herself closer to his chest as she arched her back. 

“Aaron,” Iriye moaned against his lips, her clothes feeling too suffocating. He pulled back, and his hand went to the zipper on the front of her dress, pulling it down till the dark brown bra she wore came into view. Iriye sat up to shimmy out of her sleeves, sitting confidently as she felt Aaron’s eyes take her in.

“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron’s eyes trailed over her breast. 

“I know,” Iriye giggled. She had soft curves from pilates, and her body had changed over the years, but under his eyes, she felt even sexier. “Your turn,” She pulled at his black shirt. Aaron smirked before lifting his shirt. Iriye was trying to stop herself from watching her eyes pop out at his muscular body. His broad chest, the tiny speckle of hair leading into the dark corduroy pants he wore. It didn’t help his left arm was covered in tattoos, and Iriye needed to know how it would look around her neck in the worst way.

Aaron moved to lean down and kiss her as he pulled her closer. Her hand went between them, and she found the button to his pants. He pulled back to give her some space, her fingers quick to get the button off and his zipper down, her hand brushing against his length through his boxer briefs.

“Shit,” Aaron breathed, a grin appearing on Iriye’s face. Hearing him curse was all she needed. She brushed her hand against him again, feeling his length twitch a little. 

“You want me to touch you?” Iriye teased. Aaron kissed her again, Iriye moaning softly into his mouth. She teased her hand against him, and he pressed into it.

“Fuck yes,” Aaron stated, his resolve slowly slipping. Iriye tried to wiggle her hands into his pants, but she needed them out of the way. Aaron moved off the couch to remove his pants, the bulge even more apparent in his briefs. Before she could even marvel at it more, his hands were on her dress, pulling it down her body.

Aaron groaned as he saw how her boyshorts had a wet spot, a telltale sign of how turned on Iriye was for him. He was about to take them off when Iriye stopped him. 

“Last time, it was about me. This time, it’s about you,” Iriye stated. “Do you have condoms?”

As much as Aaron was a giver, a woman being straightforward and dominant with him was attractive. It made him want to just bend Iriye over and fuck her into the couch. But patience was key. So was protection.

“Let me go check,” Aaron got up, kissing her deeply and letting his tongue slide into her mouth, needing to after taking her whole body in. She let her nails drag against his neck, and he groaned before moving away and heading towards a door.

Iriye laid back against the couch, trying her best not to let her hand slip down between her legs and keep working herself up. But the way her clit throbbed in anticipation, she rubbed her legs together to try and calm herself down, only making it worse.

After a few minutes, she heard Aaron come back into the living room, sitting up at the frown on his face.

“I don’t have any…” Aaron rubbed his hand over his chin.

“None,” Iriye asked again.

“None,” 

Aaron gauged her face for her reaction, seeing her chuckle. 

“I don’t know if I should be happy you have none or nervous because you used them up,” Iriye shook her head. A grin went to Aaron’s face.

“I’ve been busy with work. Plus, when it comes to matters of the heart, it takes me a bit to open up,” He said as he moved to sit by her. Iriye leaned into his side. “I can go run for some,”

“It’s too late to be driving around for protection,” Iriye scratched at her scalp softly. “Honestly, maybe this is just what we needed. Let us think straight for a minute,” She said.

“Right,” Aaron agreed, even if he was looking at her lips. He leaned in to kiss her, and she let her hands slip to his neck. “There are other things we can do that don’t need condoms if you want to,”

Iriye purred at the temptation. “And what’s that?” She teased. Aaron’s hands moved to cup her ass with one big hand, and the other slipped between her legs. 

“Open up for me,” Aaron stated, and Iriye slipped her legs open as he asked. He let his hand tease the hem of her panties. 

“I was trying to take care of you first,” Iriye moaned as she felt him toying with her panties. 

“There’s this thing called doing it simultaneously,” Aaron said cheekily, and Iriye gasped at him, slapping his chest playfully. “Some even say the same time or mutual,” Iriye grasped him through his boxer briefs, and he groaned. “Shit,”

“What were you saying?” Iriye asked as she got a hold of his length and stroked him. She felt his head go on her shoulder, and then she was pushed back onto the couch. 

Aaron crawled over her till he was right between her legs, and she kept her eyes on him as she felt him finally slip his hand into her panties, his middle finger already slipping past her folds and her back arching into his hand. 

“That’s it,” Aaron moaned, slipping the finger to press against her entrance before he dipped it in, Iriye rolling her hips toward his hand. “Oh god, Aaron,” Iriye whined. She felt him thrust a single digit into her a few more times, going slow as her body worked itself up. She was getting even wetter as he watched her face, moving to kiss him deeply.

"I wanted to get you off," Iriye gasped against his lips, his finger sinking into the fleshy spot inside of her.

“Trust me, watching you get off turns me on,” He moved to kiss down the side of her neck. Those words went straight to her core, gasping as she felt him pressing a second finger inside of her, and she tried her best to recover. She loved how his fingers and hands were so big, remembering how he gripped her ass.

Iriye needed a bit more control, so she slipped her hand into his boxer briefs and was met with the leaking head of his length. She let her hand wrap around him, stroking him slowly, trying to keep up with the rhythm he was setting inside of her. She stroked her hand up upward towards the head, feeling a vein against her palm, and he groaned, his fingers stopping. Iriye giggled, seeing Aaron, who was very calm and collected, lose his cool.

“You good?” Iriye smirked. Aaron’s eyes grew darker, groaning into her mouth as he kissed her deeply. “Please Aaron… I wanna make you come,” She had ground her way to bliss, and god damn it, she needed to see what he looked like when he came. He heard her pleading and pulled his fingers out of her. 

“Afterwards, I’m tasting you,” Aaron stated matter-of-factly. “I’m clean. I can show you,” 

“Aaron…” Iriye giggled as she pushed his chest so she could get up. She moved to her knees, taking the pillow he handed her. She got herself adjusted and caught sight of him licking his fingers that had been inside of her. So, of course, she leaned up to kiss him, moaning as she tasted herself on his lips.

Iriye adjusted herself until she was comfortable, her hands going to his boxer briefs and pulling them down till his length popped up, her seeing the heavy length twitch against his stomach. She leaned forward and licked the tip, hearing the breathy moan that left his mouth as she teased the tip.

Iriye wouldn’t say she was a dick-sucking enthusiast for just anyone. She had to be comfortable with the person before she would show them how much she loved sucking dick. And it should have freaked her out that she hadn’t let Aaron take her on a proper date before she was on her knees, teasing the tip and tasting the pre cum his tip pushed out. 

Iriye played with the tip, realizing Aaron was very sensitive there quickly. She allowed herself to take the tip further into her mouth, sucking softly as she didn’t want the moment to end. There was a sweetness to his taste, and she hummed as she bobbed her head on his length.

“Fuck,” Aaron breathed, feeling her beginning to slide deeper. He knew he was slightly above average, but he didn’t want to hurt Iriye even then. His hands squeezed the couch respectfully, wishing he could grip her head. But he groaned as Iriye pulled from the tip, him looking down at her eyes as one hand focused on the tips as she began to mouth at the sides, tongue licking him like a popsicle that she wanted to melt. He saw that sparkle in her eyes as she licked back up his length. He let his hands move to the goddess locs, carefully grabbing some in his hand and guiding her when she took his length back in her mouth. He felt her trying to tease the tip again, and he tightened on her hair, not wanting to pull too hard.  

Iriye’s eyes met his, preening at how Aaron was looking. 

“Take that cock deeper, Iriye,” Aaron spoke, that South London boy coming out. She bobbed her head again, working him deeper and using her hand to stroke whatever she couldn’t fit in her mouth. She moaned around him, feeling his length twitch at the sensations. “Fuck, love,” He said. “You look so good sucking my cock,” He breathed, his eyes focused on her.

Iriye could feel her panties soaking through as she continued sucking Aaron’s dick. Hearing him groan and moan, his words turned her on as she worked herself up to relax around his length. She let the tip hit the back of her throat some, finding when she gagged on his length, his hips thrust up as he wanted to get deeper. She gagged a few more times, the gaps and moans coming out more, his fingers tightening and flexing in her hair.

Iriye pulled back, a string of saliva attaching to her lip from his length. She stroked him, looking up into Aaron’s eyes.

“Don’t hold back. Take what you want from me,” She playfully winked before moving to suck his length back in, gagging twice around his length before she swallowed him, sucking on him. Aaron let off grunts and whines as he thrusts up into her mouth a few times, gasps coming with every movement until she felt the warm cum spill down her throat. As much as she wanted to choke on his cock, Aaron pulled up, his length twitching and coming a little on her lips as she stroked him. 

“Iriye,” He moaned as she attempted to clean off the tip of his cock, Aaron still sensitive. She let her tongue out, hoping to catch some more spurts of cum on her lips before she swallowed.

Aaron watched on as the woman who was so confident and could command a room swallowed his cum, feeling so satisfied as she did so. It was so fucking nasty and hot.

“You’re gonna be the death of me,” Aaron breathed before kissing her, licking into her mouth to catch a taste of her and his cum on her tongue.

Iriye moaned into the kiss, whining as she was so turned on for more. 

“Come up here,” Iriye felt him manhandle her up off her knees and turn her to suit up against the couch. She couldn’t help but giggle as Aaron had to push the coffee table back across the floor so he would have more room on the ground. “Something funny?”

“Not at all,” Iriye said, the man a giant in his home. He grinned up at her before kissing the inside of her right thigh, playfully biting at her. She let out a moan. He kissed down till he made it to her center. He then moved onto the next thigh, kissing up till he pulled back, his hands tucked into her panties.

“Yeah, you’re not gonna need these,” Aaron chuckled, moving to pull them off. Iriye’s most delicate parts of herself were revealed, and she moved to lift her legs so she could take her socks off. 

“I’m not gonna need these either,” She teased. But she quickly shut up as Aaron sniffed her panties.

“You smell so good,” Aaron chuckled, throwing her panties into his pants. Iriye figured she wasn’t getting them back, and honestly, she wasn’t mad at it. Panties were replaceable, but Aaron smelling hers was not.

Iriye let Aaron hook his hands under the back of her knees, propping her open for him like a feast.

“Let me know what feels good,” Aaron said as he looked at her. Iriye nodded. He kept her eyes on her as he swiped his tongue slowly through her lower lips, collecting the sweet juices, a moan rolling out of her.  He repeated the motion a few more times, every swipe causing her back to arch and her moans to float in the air, but it wasn’t enough.

“Aaron,” She whined softly. “I need more,” He heard her words, and she felt the two fingers he used inside of her teasing her slit. She pressed her hips down, wanting to slide onto them, but Aaron held her thighs back.

“I let you have your fun. Now let me have mine, sweetheart,” Aaron spoke. She saw his smile and let him get away with talking to her like that. His fingers slipped into her pussy, and she arched her back, almost shutting her legs around him. “Nah, keep them open for me,” He said. 

Iriye was holding them, but Aaron guided one leg to his shoulder and then the other, caging him in. His fingers began searching for that fleshy spot inside of her; Iriye whined as she felt him hitting spots along the way.

“Oh my god,” Iriye moaned as she realized he wasn’t going to stop, especially as he found her g spot again. She rolled her hips against his fingers, hearing how wet and gushy he was making her pussy for him.

“That feels good to you, Iriye,” Aaron asked, his lips kissing her thighs. Her moans were enough answers for him, the tiny twitches in her thighs. But he knew she needed more. “Tell me, baby,”

“Your mouth,” She cried. “I need your mouth… this is not enough to make me come… please,” She said between breathy moans and gasps.

Aaron obliged her, his lips sealing around her swollen clit and sucking it to find the proper pressure. It took him a few moments to try to see what Iriye wanted. What sent her hips surging to his face or gave him nothing, but he loved discovering a lover’s body.

“Oh shit,” Iriye knew when she cursed during sex, something was being done right. She moved to look down, seeing his lips sucking her clit as his fingers rubbed a path inside of her. She moved to let her hands run over his scalp, her nails dragging up and down his scalp.

“Aaron,” She cried, his name a mantra she would repeat if it meant he never stopped. She felt him stop sucking her clit before she caught a peek of his tongue beginning to flick at her clit; short cries left her body as he moved his tongue with precision, almost pornstar levels even. “Oh fuck!” She whined, more words falling out as he moved his fingers in tandem with his tongue. She would gladly pay the toll if this were payback for the teasing.

Iriye continued to roll her hips toward his hand as he fucked her with his fingers, tongue flicking and sucking at her clit. He pulled back for a moment.

“You’re gonna come for me?” He asked her, almost a plea for her. She looked into the darkening hazel eyes and nodded. 

“I will! I will!” She wanted to scream. She would do anything for him.

“Good,” Aaron moved his to flick and suck at her clit as his fingers moved to usher her orgasm forward. At first, it felt like a tug-o-war, a push and pull for it to come forward. She let herself fall into it, the first crescendo warning her of what was to come, quite literally. She threw her head back before focusing on him, licking her lips and whining out as another thrust of his fingers and the gates flooded. Short cries became gasps and moans as her orgasm rushed in, and she came, her juices flowing down her pussy, and she felt her walls sporadically tightening around Aaron. 

Instead of letting her enjoy the fall, Aaron continued to work her through it, seeing how good she tasted and how she reacted to being overstimulated. It was almost too much as he sucked her clit, rubbing at her g-spot. She wanted to close her legs, but Aaron had her spread and locked in with his shoulders.

Iriye whined as he prolonged her orgasm, her nails scratching at his bare shoulders until she tapped him.

“Aaron,” She whined, feeling him finally let up off of her clit, and she felt him work her down with his fingers, her juices sliding down his fingers and wrist. She sighed as she slumped against the couch, his fingers sliding out of her. Aaron trailed his hand, wet with her juices, up her body until he teased her lips with them. She grinned and opened her mouth, letting him slide them in so she could suck her juices off of him, mimicking how she suckled his dick before. 

Aaron straightened up, their lips connected passionately as Iriye let her hands wrap around his neck, him leaning into her. She giggled as she could feel him and her pussy clenched, 

“How you feel, love?” Aaron asked her, pushing one of her goddess locs behind her ear.

“Good,” Iriye hated that she had no words except that, but he gave her the feeling. She couldn’t wipe the grin from her face. 

“You sure you’re a writer cause good,” Iriye swiped at Aaron’s face. 

“You play too much. To think I wanted to give you morning head,” Iriye leaned back, and he followed her, his head leaving between her clothed breast.

“You want to give me morning head?” Aaron questioned her.

“I did, but that’s only if we head to sleep,” Iriye challenged him. Aaron moved to hoist her in his arms, Iriye giggling as she wrapped her arms and legs around him, letting him carry her towards his room.

After cleaning themselves up in his bathroom, Iriye was currently in one of his shirts; her five foot eight stature and curvy waist had his shirt hitting right at the top of her thighs and giving a little peek at the bottom of her ass. She forgone her underwear as Aaron repeated that he wouldn’t give them back. She threatened to take his underwear but knew if she took them off of him again, the snake between his legs would not be going to bed. Tangled up in each other arms in his bed, both talking about whatever came to mind

“I honestly haven’t had a reason to need condoms,” Aaron mentioned, Iriye looking up at him. 

“Really?” Iriye said. “I would think it was being thrown at you,”

“It is,” Aaron admitted, and Iriye raised a brow. “But that’s not me,” He stated honestly.  Iriye propped herself up on his chest some. 

“Pussy being thrown at you doesn’t suit you,” Iriye teased, hoping a red flag popped up. Because he was so unreal. “You have an arm tattoo, Jamaican, and a Gemini. You could have anyone dropping the draws with just one look,” Iriye joked, and Aaron looked at her.

“I could have anyone, but at the end of the day, I want someone who wants me. Who chooses me. Not just anyone,” Aaron stated. There was a truth and a depth there that she loved seeing. Iriye leaned forward and kissed him softly.

“I’m sure you’ll find that,” Iriye yawned. 

“What are you looking for?” Aaron asked her. She thought about it for a moment. 

“Someone who can love my ugly parts,” Iriye explained. “Someone who can be around me not only during the good times but the bad times,” 

“Well, I hope you get that,” Aaron stated, his hand rubbing her back some. They lay in comfortable silence, Iriye hoping that what he said was true. That she would ge tit. She hoped for a second… she would have it with Aaron. @wildwomanalereyia @teenage-aria @skvrpion @absentmindeddreamer @blackpinup22 @liv10002 @styleismyaddiction @jungwonsgfs @hooliemooliedonutshawp @hippiesandpeacesigns @blowmymbackout @justagirlwho-believes13 @caribbeangyalsworld @melovedorks @moihasarrived @ashanti-notthesinger @xx-mintyxx @iluvchrisbrown @ash-ketchumzzz @deijalee @pyramidlight @xosharieee @kaylaahisthebestest- @chaniceandrea @kimmivlixx @saveadanc @kaylalb @queenbritbrat @kceeee @naughtynolly-blog @myawesome56 @chainingxday @nononoks-blog @kinginwithbreezy-blog @apple123cg @jazziejax @lauren1000000 @withoutmusiclifewouldbflat @venusincleo @loveschrisbrown20 @brwnskingirlll @iamfredtina @cozyashhh @modelmemoirs @kimiasinterlude @rpayn22 @mscarter123 @lolola22267 @thesweetestdrug @valarghoulis @nyifly22 @zimsilandela @teheeboo @blveeeeeee @5starsirl @yassbishimvintage @23jammy @prettiegal @vadeadiugularis @gabbywontlose @pinkkycherrish @slashervalley @aqueenwasmadehere @lee-jennie @wuzzzgoood

[pricegouge]

Gougie, I saw your little post about fairy!reader caught in a spiderweb and being found by Soap - and I didn't think I was in to microphilia but holy shit that one post sent me down a rabbit hole. Hot damn. Like.

I just wanna be a lil fairy, small enough for the boys to carry me around in their pockets when I'm sleepy.

Soap pries this cute lil fairy from the spiderweb but ooohh no it looks like a wing was broken in your struggle - those things are so delicate what a shame. And you look up at Soap all wide eyed, maybe a little teary bc ouchies, and he's like well he can just leave you there, flightless and injured.

Maybe there's a language barrier, so you don't really know exactly whats going on, BUT WHO CARES, this handsome human just saved you from a far worse fate than just a broken little wing. Freak matches freak, Soap wants to keep you bc your so small and sooooo cute sitting in the palm of his hand like that - and you don't want to leave! Not when this human is giving you all the attention in the world!

Basically never leave his side when he's not on a mission. If he is gone on a mission he leaves you with Kate to look after you and you are INCONSOLABLE. WHERE DID YOUR HUMAN GO?? BRING HIM BACK!!! THAT'S MY HUMAN!!!

When he comes home in one piece you get to pepper his face with tiny, sweet kisses. He can't help but laugh a little, its rather ticklish to have your little lips on his cheek. He makes sure to return the affection tho, picking you off his shoulder and cupping you gently in his palms, and then kissing you up and down. His kisses are downright smothering, but they still leave you giggling and flushed, hair a little disheveled, breathless and aching for more.

And then riding around on his shoulder while he's home from being deployed, watching every little thing he does, content to lean against his neck bc he's so warm and always conscious of you.

When he's doing paperwork you're basically a little fidget toy for him, which you are more than pleased with. He keeps you laying on your belly in his free hand, idly running his thumb up and down your back - free massage! And you just fall asleep all warm and soft until he's done. Sometimes he puts his thumb on your cute little ass and wiggles you around just for fun. Maybe if you've been well behaved and not a mischevious little shit, he'll let you grind on his finger until you're satisfied. Mumbling praise and sweet nothin's at you - you don't fully understand what he's saying, but you don't care, you love the sound of his voice and you know he's being sweet on you, and that's all you need to finish.

Ofc whatever mess you made, he can just lick clean, he has no objections there.

When he's relaxing on the couch, watching TV, you can just curl up on his chest - maybe he buttons down his shirt just enough so you can lay on his hairy chest, and keeps his hand cupped over your little body like a blanket. Feeds you bites from whatever candy or snack he has with him - he doesn't let you have any of his alcohol tho, last time he let you try a strong drink, you got drunk after just two or three sips of the stuff and you were cranky and hungover the whole next day. As lightweight as you are small.

So.... yeah.... I might just be into that shit now....

this was so unexpectedly fluffy my god :')

imagine being that small and trying to take care of him in kind. you want to help out where you can, return the favor as much as you're able because he's been so good to you, but it's so hard! chores are right out because everything is so big! and you're just a little thing :( but you can help with his person, usually. feeding him chunks of strawberries that make you sweat when you go to pick them up, breathless with effort and laughter when he snaps his teeth at you playfully. he's never taken care of his nails before you and it shows, but that's okay, you like knowing his fingers better than anyone - better even than him, probably, as you doubt he can see well enough to spot that thin, silvery thread of scar that covers his knuckle, the one you think he must've gotten when he was still young judging by how fully it's healed. you like to imagine what had caused it, almost prefer being unable to ask because this way, it could be anything. maybe he'd even gotten it while taking care of another scary spider!

and you're more than happy to help when he has... different needs.

most of the time he just likes watching you, gets himself off as you writhe on his palm or balanced precariously on the mountainous bulk of his thighs. he likes comparing you to himself when you're there, makes your face heat as he chuckles, seeing how you're barely taller than his cock. sometimes, he lubes himself up copiously and cradles you in his palm as he strokes himself, careful to let you do all the squeezing with your limbs wrapped tight around his shaft lest he accidentally crushed you. it's nice, feeling the strong pulse of his vein throbbing against your clit, your nipples catching on the ridge of his glans with every upstroke. it's better yet when he doesn't drag you along, though, lets you stay put with your mouth working against his cockhole, kissing it the way you've seen humans kiss each other, with your tongue darting in to steal quick tastes of his cum.

unfortunately, he tends to drench you when he does cum, the sticky fluid catching in your hair and blocking off your airflow until he wipes it off with a gentle thumb. he's always so sweet after though, you can't be mad at him - coos as he helps you wash it all off because he knows it's too thick for you to properly scrub. he always lets you sleep in the big bed after, something that usually gives him pause because he's so afraid of crushing you. but it seems he needs you close just as much as you need him after nights like this, even going so far as to button his shirt around you just to keep you warm and close.

[jedi-luca]

Squable Up Incorrect Avengers

Avengers fighting off Hydra soldiers

Cap: Is- Is Y/N dancing?

The Avengers stop fighting to watch you dance and fight off hydra soldiers.

Tony retracting his helmet: It’s called crip walking but yeah I guess you can say that.

Natasha: I didn’t think they would use Rockets Christmas gift. 

Thor bobbing his head along: I quite like this Midgard music. What is this called? Rock? Pop?

Natasha watches you in amusement unsure if she finds this cute or annoying. 

Sam landing besides Thor: It’s called Rap.

You turn towards the group.

Y/N: If he hatin', disrespect, you better follow up with hands. Losses to the neck, but now I'm trophied up, I'm sayin', like-

You turn around knocking out the opps Kung Fu styles.

Y/N: Bing-bop-boom-boom-boom-bop-bam

You turn around towards the group after knocking them out.

Clint: Ohhhhhh! That’s where that’s from! I thought it was just a TikTok trend.

Tony: You’re on TikTok? 

Clint: Tony I have 2 teenagers.

Y/N: The type of shit I'm on, you wouldn't understand. The type of skits I'm on, you wouldn't understand. 

Natasha: Detka, we’re done you got them can we go now?

Y/N wagging your finger as you dance around her: Big dog business, I would not hold your hand. Broke bitch business, I could not be your man. Never got his ass whooped until we open up that can. Damn, alley-oop me bands, I'ma slam.

Hulk: I prefer Chappell Roan.

The Avengers look over at the Jolly Green Giant.

Hulk: What? I can be a pop girly.

*Bonus*

Suddenly more soldiers busted through the doors.

Tony sighed: This was supposed to be an in and out situation.

Y/N grins hearing the next song: Ayyyyyyy!

The Hydra soldiers stop looking at you in confusion.

Y/N: Reincarnated, I was stargazin'. Life goes on, I need all my babies (gyah, gyah)! Woke up lookin' for the broccoli. High-key, keep a horn on me, that Kamasi. IP, ownership, the blueprint is by me. Mr. Get Off, I get off at my feet.

Hydra Soldier: Vat, vat is this?

Nat looks over at Thor who is currently trying to copy your moves.

Sam cringing: Thor I love you man but that is not it. 

Y/N: I feel good, get the fuck out my face. Look good, but she don't got no taste. I walk in, walked out with the safe. Mando, let me know what the play.

Tony: Y/N, stop playing with your food.

Y/N: Squabble up, squabble up, Squabble up, squabble up, Squabble up (mh-mh), squabble up (mh-mh), Squabble up (mh-mh), squabble up.

Cap: You know what this is actually really good. I mean look at them, they took them all down on their own! I might just thank Rocket.

Thor: I would not do that Cap, he shall never let you live it down.

Bucky: I need to find that little raccoon he keeps stealing my arms! 

Y/N: Hol' up!

Sam: hol’ up

Y/N: Where you from? 

Sam: Where you from?

Nat lifting up the boom box: Okay Detka let’s do this on the way to the jet.

Y/N: Bye, bitch! 

Sam: bye, bitch! 

Y/N: I'm finna go dumb!

Sam: Finna go dumb!

Y/N: Sideways!

Sam: Sideways! 

Bucky: I will buy you both iced coffee if you please stop.

*Bonus #2*

Sam turning towards you and stopping you from getting too excited: Not yet we can get more.

You nodded towards Sam and turned towards Bucky: No.

Bucky sighed: Fine one iced coffee and one item of your choosing at the lego store.

You turn towards Sam about to burst. Sam nods and you quickly turn around towards Bucky: We accept.

Bucky sighed in relief as you let Natasha turn off the boombox.

Y/N sits between Natasha and Sam: I’m getting Barad Dûr.

Sam cackling: I’m getting Jabba’s Sail Barge

You both laugh maniacally. 

Natasha kissing your cheek: You two are such dorks!

Bonus bonus bonussss

Bucky grumbling holding everyone’s iced coffees.

Steve: Oh come on it’s not that bad!

Bucky: Steve they’re hundreds of dollars. I thought Lego was like 7 bucks.

Y/N carrying two sets: Okay I’m ready! 

Bucky trying to hold in his anger: Y/N, I said one thing.

Y/N: Awww, babe?

Natasha looking up from the build a lego: Barad Dûr.

You toss the other one behind you only for Natasha to catch it.

Bucky: Nat, are you serious? 

Natasha shrugging: They’ve been really good. Plus they’re so cute when they make their surprise face it’s like 😱🫨😵‍💫😍

[sennenpharaoh]

---

"Let me go! Get me out of here! What do you want with me?!"

Atem kept trying to reach out to Roy, who appeared to drift further and further away, out of his reach and almost out of his sight. Looking around he noticed something. He was neither in his Soul Room nor was he in the other's Throne Room. His body was still on the blanket in the quiet meadow, but his mind, or rather... both minds were in this limbo of darkness, the figure of his Colonel barely in view now.

"You..." He turned to glare at his "attacker", eyes showing a flicker of red. "You have one chance to bring me back to my Colonel before I execute you myself, or better yet have him set you ablaze!"

The other, a figure looking remarkably close to Atem's visage, save for one glaring difference: the highlights in his eyes and the corrupted circle upon his head, did nothing but scoff and release his grip on Atem.

Hmm. Swearing your life to him and already making him your attack dog. Funny, I thought you said you weren't going to compare him to your magician.

"Can it, you Monster! What is it you want from me?!"

Always with what I want... when you really should be asking yourself... if this is what you want.

"I said yes. How much more clear do you need me to be?"

Hmm. You did. Then I shouldn't have to tell you just who it is you said yes to, now do I? You and your little sob story about your own crimes... you never once thought of his own crimes, now did you?

"There's nothing to think about, no crime that he-"

So... what you're saying is you're okay with what he did to that nation. Is that it?

"That's not..." Atem began to approach the other in rebuttal before stopping, placing a hand to his chest.

"Don't... even bother trying to bring that up. I've said it to him and I'll say it to you. My thoughts towards what he's done are irrelevant. It doesn't matter what I think. I'm not the one he's... that got hurt."

The other raised an eyebrow.

So... all those people... all those families. A nation full of innocent people. They don't matter to you, do they... Pharaoh? The only ones that matter to you are your own people.

"Stop... saying that. I have... no right..."

All of those families. All of those children. You even dreamt it that very night, didn't you? To your own former Kingdom. Dreams are one thing, what he did actually happened. All those innocent lives gone in one... simple... snap.

A simple fingersnap from the other caused the area around Atem to light up in flames, forcing Atem to shield his eyes from the bright light. It wasn't just the light he had to shield himself, though. From out of nowhere he could hear panicked screaming, but it was not just one... it was many. Tens. Hundreds. Thousands. Tens of thousands. The screaming sounded so familiar, as he had heard it only one other time: when he heard it through a certain archive.

"Stop it." Atem covered his ears. "This changes nothing. Make it stop and give me back my Colonel!"

He's right behind you. Do you not hear him calling to you?

Atem...

That voice! He recognized that voice immediately. That was Roy's! He had to be calling out to him, trying to snap him out of this! He just had to!

"Colonel, I'm right h-" Atem turned around in the direction of the voice, seeing his Colonel... but froze when he saw a differently dressed Colonel. No longer in his fancy casual attire, this Roy was in his blue military outfit, a white overcoat covering his uniform, along with white gloves on his hands, one of which was raising and reaching towards Atem.

"C... Colonel...?"

Look upon him, Pharaoh. This is who you said yes to. This is who you decided to spend the rest of your life with. He says he wants to have a family with you, but who is he to ask of that when so many other families have been burnt to ash with his own hands? Tell me, Pharaoh! Who are you looking at right now?

"Stop it." He grasped his chest, that uncomfortable feeling beginning to creep up yet again. "I have no right to..."

Tell me who you're looking at right now! The Colonel of yours who wants to start a family with you... or the one who has put to death countless families with his blood soaked hands? Colonel... or...

---

"Stop it... I... I have no right to..."

Atem, still motionless, was completely unaware that his hand was being held or that Roy was anywhere near him. His gaze was blank, it was as if he was in a trance. The only semblance of consciousness was his soft muttering that if leaned in close one could hear him.

"C... C... Col..."

His voice seemed to be in a struggle, vacant violet eyes showed no signs of any emotion. However... amongst the violet... a flicker of red began to take them, a familiar flicker of red. His body once again began to stiffen and bristle up. Though as he opened his mouth, his body seemed... in conflict. His hands seemed shaky but were also still, and despite the growing flicker of red in his eyes... two of the smallest droplets slowly ran down his barely dried face. All as he sputtered one simple word.

"...M..."

"Murderer..."

Kiss after kiss, the moment seemed so beautiful. His heart feeling happy and full from the fact they were now engaged to be married, to take the next step in life together.

Roy knew that this was going to be its own adventure in and of itself, but he knew they could do it together. "You don't have to apologize, Atem. You know I'll accept you for all that you are. I would always wait for you to catch up and catch you." He assured him, cupping his cheek softly before pulling away.

Roy noticed him shakily about to reach out for the ring when he noticed his body stilled and his eyes didn’t look bright or emotional anymore. Roy wasn’t sure what was going on, but it worried him it was in his features and he grabbed his hand feeling him not really react but all he could hear was the soft words continuously mumbling.

“Atem, are you okay? Speak to me please.” Worry in his voice as he waits for something to happen. He wasn’t sure what was going on, but he would be here to ride everything out regardless.

This was familiar, if he remembered correctly this happened when Roy told him that he wasn't being honest with him about his feelings and that's when he acted completely different and was telling him things that he himself would never say, as if he was completely separate from Atem.

Roy knew that was Atem though, it seemed that side was a darker side to him, at least that's what he said himself. One that he knew he didn't want Roy seeing when he did and that was when he ran all the way to the park with Roy running after him and then they confessed to each other at the park.

What was he going to do? He would just have to do his best to prepare himself mentally for what was to come.

[spideysbruh]

Tattoo

a/n- i would NEVER get my bf or gfs name tattooed on me… unless it was him.

~~~~

They’re watching a movie together when she brings it up, “Hey, Timothée.” She says, and his head turns from where it's her laying on her lap to look up at her.

“Yeah?”

“I wanna get your name tattooed on me.” She says, meeting his eyes, his eyebrows raise at her words.

“Really?” He smirks, she nods.

“Would you be okay with that?” She wonders, he quickly nods and sits up all the way.

“Can I ask why?” 

She shrugs, “Cause I love you. I've got other tattoos, y'know. So what's one more?” 

They’ve been together four years, she feels like that’s enough time to get his name on her forever. She knows that this is it for the both of them, all she’s waiting for now is a ring.

He laughs, “If you really, actually, deadass want to then, no bullshit, I'll pay for it.” He says enthusiastically. 

“Really?!” She surprisedly asks, and he nods.

“It’s only fair, it’s my name on my girlfriend… and I can’t return the favor, but believe me, if i could baby… I would. Asap.”  He answers, she smiles and leans forward to kiss him, “Actually, I probably would’ve done it already. Cause I love you so much.” He says against her lips, she giggles and presses her lips to his, wrapping her arms around his neck.

So that's how they ended up in a tattoo shop two weeks later, Timothée excitedly sitting next to her.

She's getting his name tattooed right underneath her collarbone in a cute cursive font that they both liked.

“Are you nervous?” He asks, holding her hand.

She shakes her head, “Not really, I just hope it doesn’t hurt too much here… and that it looks cute.” 

Timothée chuckles and caresses her cheek as the tattoo artist preps her shoulder, “You’re adorable. It’s gonna look amazing, baby.”

The tattoo artist makes sure she likes the placement before she starts, Y/n grips Timothées hand whenever it stings a little too much. He admires how well she sits there, and can’t help but love that she’s doing this for him. He knew they were in love, but he didn’t think she would get this permanent thing for him.  

It makes him happy knowing that other people will see this and know that it’s because she’s all his. Whenever they go on a red carpet together and she wears a strappy dress, his name will be visible for all to see. He smirks as he pictures people's reactions to it, will they be angry? or happy? Will they think it’s stupid??? 

Well, who gives a fuck what they think.

His thoughts are cut short by y/n staring at him, analyzing his face, “You okay?” she wonders, running her thumb across his hand, he nods and leans over to kiss her hand.

“Yeah, just thinking.” He smiles at her, “It looks really good.”

When the tattoo is finished, Y/n stands up and looks in the mirror, “Oh my god, I love it!” She squeals and turns to let Timothée get a good look, he leans forward and smirks.

“It looks amazing.” He grins, reaching out and pinching her cheek, “You look beautiful with it.” 

She smiles and turns to at least tip the artist but Timothée stops her, “I got it, babe… Dune did well.”

She snorts, “Shut the fuck up.” he's been making that joke for weeks whenever they go anywhere. 

She loves it though. 

“I can't wait til you show it off.” He says as they walk out the shop hand in hand, he looks at the plastic now covering it as she looks up at him.

“Me either, it's so cute.” She giggles, running her thumb along his knuckles.

“I'm gonna find a way to repay you, baby.” 

She laughs, “You don't have to repay me, babe. Our relationship is repayment enough.”

He smiles and kisses her head as they walk.

A few weeks later, Y/ns tattoo has healed and it looks great, she likes it a lot. She's been wearing tank tops whenever she goes out because she wants to show it off. Whenever Timothée is with her, his arm is always over her shoulder, subtly attempting to draw attention to her tattoo.

She tries not to look at what people are saying about it, but Timothée took a peek on twitter a couple of nights ago when she had already fallen asleep. The handful of tweets he saw were positive and excited about it, saying how cute they are. He smiled and shut his phone off, pulling Y/n closer to him before drifting off. 

She's at home, working on her laptop when Timothée lets himself in (he has his own set of keys) and kisses her cheek before he sits next to her at the table. 

“Hi, my love.” He mumbles, resting his head on her shoulder.

“Hi, baby.” She smiles, reaching down with her free hand and intertwining their fingers, “Give me one second babe, I'll be done in a bit.” 

“No rush, honey.” He sighs, closing his eyes and sitting patiently as she finishes.

She closes her laptop a few minutes later and looks down at him, his eyes shut as he quietly breathes.

She smiles, “What a nice surprise, baby! You okay?” 

He nods and picks his head up, smiling and gently kissing her lips. “Yeah, just wanted to see you today.” 

She nods and gets up to get him something to eat, he closely follows her, opening his mouth to say something and then stopping.

“What's up, babe?” She giggles, he shrugs and pins her against the counter, connecting their lips once again.

“I love you.” He mumbles before kissing her again, brushing his tongue along her lips.

She hums and parts her lips to let his tongue in, caressing his face in her hands. He sighs harshly against her mouth, “I did something.” 

She opens her eyes and laughs, “What'd you do, baby?” 

“I got a chain.” He says simply, she chuckles and raises an eyebrow. She doesn't think this is extraordinarily groundbreaking news.

“That's cool, babe. You wearing it?” She wonders, moving her hands to his neck to feel for it. He steps back, letting her hands slide over to his chest, the chain hides under his shirt, and she sees an indent poking through it and smirks. 

“Yeah, I'm wearing it.” He replies softly, “You wanna see it?” 

She nods and his hands move to pull the chain out. 

She gasps as she sees that the silver chain has her name at the end of it in the same font as her tattoo.

“No way!” She giggles, running her fingers along her name, “You gonna wear it 24/7?” She teases, her fingers moving up to his neck, across his birthmarks. She smiles at the marks and meets his eyes. 

He nods, “Mhm. For you. For me. I love you so fucking much. Seeing that tattoo on you every day is a dream. To know you're mine. I'm yours too, baby. All fucking yours.” 

She smiles and admires the chain, she imagines him walking around with her name across his chest for everyone to see. 

Timothée eyes her, “Do you like it?” He timidly asks, looking down at his feet.

Y/n tuts and moves her head to make eye contact with him, “Timothée… I fucking love it. Now we're matching.” She giggles and leans up to kiss him. He grins and attacks her face with little kisses.

“I'm so obsessed with you, baby.”

She feels herself heat up at his words, a shy smile gracing her face as he kisses her cheek. 

“I love you.” She sighs, holding onto the chain, its coldness somehow soothing her fingers.

Timothée smiles and kisses her lips again, lifting her onto the counter and going to make out with her again.

At his next red carpet event, Timothée keeps the chain on and insists that Y/n joins him on the carpet. She was hesitant but agreed because he pulled out the cutest face as he begged, the one that almost always gets him whatever he wants from her.

“You’re a piece of shit.” She had joked as he celebrated in their car on the way.

“Yeah yeah, you always remind me.” He teased, reaching for her hand as the car pulled up to the entrance, a crowd of fans waiting to catch a glimpse of all the celebrities attending.

*

She takes his hand and he squeezes it for a second, “Please don’t let go of my hand.” He says before opening the door to constant flashes. All of them capturing his chain and his wide smile as he's holding onto her hand.

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Can I make a angsty hurt/comfort request ?

Okay, so it’s like male!reader who’s a father to a kid, and he has the team over for dinner after a case.

Then his kid decides to come out to him by saying like “I’m gay, I like the same gender” or whatever (but obviously not like that but similar??)

And then reader goes like “you’re not gay, silly! Everyone likes the same gender a little bit! Maybe even more than the opposite gender!” But could you please add this dialogue in because I think it would be funny!! And he’s like: “I sometimes fantasise about being in a relationship/having sex (whichever you want to write) with your friend’s dad, but that doesn’t mean I’m gay!”

And the team and his kid look at him with shock/horror/confusion and he’s just standing there like… “what..? 😅” because he actually thinks this (his parents were homophobic and took him to conversion therapy when he asked if everyone like the same gender in that way)

Then someone from the team takes his kid out of the room to tell them that they’re valid and stuff and the rest of the team explain to reader that no, not everyone likes the same gender and that he might need to try and discover himself.

Plus whatever else you want!! Happy or sad ending is up to you!! (I think happy would be nice but maybe it can be a sad ending and a part two ??)

No pressure!! This is all up to you and you don’t even have to write it!!!

Love you !!!

- 🎀

Hiya, thank you for sending this in, this is an amazing idea! I hope I've done it justice (and sorry it's taken me so long)

Warnings: homophobia, internal homophobia (saying these just in case)

"I, um, I wanted to tell you all something." You watched as your son, Ethan shifts nervously for a moment. "I'm gay."

You shake your head, "No, you're not." And just like that, everyone around you freezes. "Everyone has a crush on the same gender." You wave your hand, dismissing him.

Ethan's face drops slightly, pushing the food on his plate around with his fork. "Look, I'm just saying it's normal to like the same gender, even more than the opposite gender. Take me, for example, I have crushes on men all the time. Like your friend Nathan, his dad? I have thoughts all the time about how I'd want to be in a relationship with him. That doesn't make me gay."

You look around, sensing everyone's eyes on you. A variety of different emotions are going around the table, shock, horror, disbelief, hurt.

"What?" You ask, taking another bite of pasta.

Garcia looks at Ethan, "Come on, let's step out for a minute," She gives him a kind smile and they both leave the room, Reid following them.

You look at the remaining members of the team, "What?"

"You know that's not true, right?"

"What's not true?"

"Not everyone is attracted to the same sex," Morgan said, you rolled your eyes.

"Yes, Morgan, they are." You shrugged, "Ethan's just confused. He'll come to terms with it."

"I don't think Ethan's the one who's confused." Prentiss chimed.

"What do you mean?" You ask, giving a soft scoff. "Of course he is."

"I think you're confused." Reid spoke up.

"Everyone has those thoughts." You stated.

"No, they haven't." Morgan argued, "I have never once found another man attractive."

"Not one?" You asked, finding that hard to believe.

"No."

You blinked. None of thise made any sense. "You're joking, you've got to be."

"What makes you think it's normal?"

"When I told my parents about it, that's what they said."

"They told you that?" Prentiss asked, sharing a look with Morgan.

"Yeah," You nodded. "So, I carried on with my life. And Ethan will do the same."

Morgan frowned, before sighing. "It's not something everyone thinks or feels, (Y/N)." He paused.

"Wait. No, hold on." You said, rubbing a hand over your face. "Does that mean that-?"

When you don't finish the sentence, Prentiss does for you. "That you like men?"

"Yeah." You said awkwardly at the question.

"Probably." Was her response.

You frowned. That quite literally went against everything you thought you knew about yourself. Your relationship with Ethan's mum before you separated, as well as every relationship with a woman ever. As well as the bond you had felt growing up with your best friend.

"That changes things." You said, blinking slowly. "I should probably go speak to Ethan."

The team gave soft nods and you headed out into the lounge, where Ethan was, leaning against Garcia, eyes red with Reid on his left. Your heart sank, you looked a lot like that after the conversation with your parents actually. You swallowed, trying to ignore the twinge in your stomach at the thought of passing this confusion onto your son as your parents had you.

"Ethan?" You asked softly, he looked up, quick to wipe the tears from his eyes. "Can I speak to you quickly?"

He only nods when Penelope squeezes his hand in reassurance. "We can stay here, if you want." She says to him softly, and he nods again.

You swallow heavily once again. "I'm sorry." You stated, carefully sitting in the seat opposite him. "I... I wasn't aware that it wasn't something everyone experienced. I repeated what my parents told me and in doing so, I hurt you."

Ethan watches you for a second. "It's not your fault-"

"You don't need to try to make me feel better kid." You said, "I told you what they told me, and in doing so, I invalidated you and your feelings. I dismissed you, and that's not okay."

When he opens his mouth to argue, you give him a firm look and he sighs slightly. "But you also didn't know any better."

"I should have." You reminded, "But I do now. So, I'm so sorry for how I reacted. And I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to talk to me about it, and I'm sorry my original reaction wasn't what you were expecting, or what you deserved."

"That's okay dad," Ethan smiled, a split second passed. "So, Nathan's dad, huh?"

"I will ground you."

"That's a hate crime."

[into-fiction]

HYGTG snippet: gelphie dates

The first date Elphaba takes Galinda on is…rather a disaster actually. 

Not on purpose of course, she just didn’t plan as well as she should. Elphaba had tried to take them out for a nice dinner in the city, similar to the first date Galinda had taken Elphaba on. Except…she’d not accounted for the weather. 

The sky turns grey and starts to grumble almost immediately after they set out. The pair turn around early, but still end up getting absolutely soaked on the boat ride back.

Shit, Elphaba thinks, shucking her jacket off to sling around Galinda's bare shoulders as if that would help stop the deluge at all. Galinda's gonna hate me. 

But contrary to Elphaba’s initial fear, Galinda doesn’t seem to mind at all. She clambers out of the boat and takes Elphaba’s hand, tugging her to the courtyard, where she throws her arms out and twirls in a circle.

It's late evening, and most of the other students are either in their dorms or already in the city, likely hiding out until the rain stops. There are just a few lamp posts still flickering, a gentle orange glow that reflects off Galinda's pale hair.

“Come on!” the blonde calls, squealing as she turns and wet ringlets fall into her face. 

“Aren’t you worried about your clothes?” Elphaba asks. And your face? She wipes her thumb under Galinda’s eye where her glittery makeup has started to run.

Galinda pauses briefly, peering up at her. “Do I look terrible?” she asks.

“You look beautiful.”

The grin that spreads across Galinda's face is like sunshine all itself. “Then who cares? Now dance with me!”

Galinda takes her heels off so she doesn’t slip, her once-pristine curls plastered to her head as she giggles and whoops and spins. Elphaba has so rarely seen her like this, as if she doesn't have a care in the world and is no longer scared of who might see her.

When she presses her lips to Elphaba’s, she tastes like pure joy.

***

Determined to make up for it on their second date, Elphaba plans a simple picnic in the fields beyond Shiz. She packs up everything they need in a large wicker basket, buzzing with excitement as she waits for the afternoon sun to rise.

The girls make their way out of Shiz right on time, not a hint of clouds or rain in sight. They chatter back and forth about various things, Galinda trying to steal snacks out of the basket. 

“Where are we going?” Galinda asks, walking confidently in front despite not knowing the way.

It’s a warm autumn day with just enough breeze to ruffle the edge of Galinda’s pink dress. She's got her sketchbook tucked under one arm, and her face is shining as she glances around at the view.

Which is, of course, why she completely misses the dip in the path. Elphaba has to drop the picnic basket in order to lunge for Galinda, but in the end, both things end up tumbling to the ground. Their carefully planned lunch scatters into the tall grass as Galinda yelps and collapses. 

“Galinda!” Elphaba cries. She hovers for a moment, worried about her girlfriend and her girlfriend’s pride and her girlfriend's clothes (and her girlfriend’s pride over her clothes)…all reasonable things.

And the food, too, of course.

But Galinda is laughing, dusting her palms off on her dress even as she gets to her feet with a wince, ankle already swelling. Elphaba gives her a hand, holding her arm tightly when she wobbles.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m fine!”

Galinda looks around, finally spotting her sketchbook where it's splayed across the grassy floor. A noticeable boot print stains the open pages, the edges wrinkled and the drawing underneath smudges and ruined.

“Oh no, Oz, Galinda, I'm so sorry.”

Elphaba rushes to pick the sketchbook up, but the damage is already done. Her heart sinks a little as she realizes yet another date has gone wrong.

“It’s okay!” Galinda leans up to give Elphaba a peck on the cheek. She takes the book from her with careful hands. “It's just one spread, Elphie. No big deal.”

Elphaba ends up carrying the blonde back to school, Galinda a warm weight on her back as she hums in her ear, her arms wrapped around Elphaba’s shoulders.

“Are you sure you’re not upset?” Elphaba checks. Galinda presses a kiss to Elphaba’s temple and then knocks their heads lightly together. 

“Stop asking that, Elphie!” she says. “I think this was still a wonderful date. And look- I got you right where I wanted.”

Despite the teasing note to her girlfriend’s voice and the second kiss placed on her neck, Elphaba can’t help feeling a little disappointed in herself. Oh well. Third time’s a charm?

***

The third time is somehow the worst yet. 

By the time they return to the dorms, mud splashed up their legs and leaves falling from their hair, Elphaba is starting to think she’s been cursed.  

“Maybe it’s a sign that I’m not cut out for dating,” she grumbles, her hands fidgeting with the blanket on top of them. Galinda's hair is slightly damp against her shoulder as the girl leans against her.

“Oh, Elphie. Don’t be so dramatic! I still had plenty of fun.”

“Dramatic? Galinda, every date I’ve tried to plan has turned into a disaster.”

“That’s not true! I think they’ve all been perfect.”

Elphaba feels her chest clench, a little guilty and a little in love. “You’re just biased,” she says softly. She sighs, feeling her shoulders slump. “I keep trying to set up fun things for us to do, and they just keep backfiring.”

Galinda shakes her head, giggling softly in that adorably breathy way of hers. 

“That’s just it, silly. We don’t have to do anything or go anywhere to make it a perfect date.” Galinda rolls over until she’s fully in Elphaba’s lap, smiling fondly at her as she gives her a kiss on the lips. “Just being with you is already everything I need. I mean it.”

“You do?”

“Always.”

A bubble of warmth spreads through Elphaba’s chest, loosening any of her previous worries. She sighs, leaning in so her forehead rests on Galinda’s.

“Well,” she says softly. “I guess I must have some luck.”

“Hm?”

Elphaba grins, wrapping both arms around Galinda’s waist and pulling her even closer, ducking down to press an open-mouthed kiss to the girl’s jaw just to watch the way her cheeks flush bright rosy pink. 

“After all,” she finally says. “I did manage to get the prettiest girl in school.”

[beef-brisket]

Verosika: That was amazing!

Adam chuckled as he walked off stage and hugged Verosika.

Since he started working for Ozzie in his clubs, he's found that he's gotten even more popular. He hasn't felt this safe in years, even in Heaven. Things were starting to look up, which is why something had to ruin it.

Verosika: The Princess is in your dressing room.

Adam: I- What?

Adam pulled away and looked lightly terrified. Looking past Verosika's shoulder and down the hallway to the dressing rooms, he felt his heart rate speed up.

Verosika: Hey. No.

She cupped his cheeks and forced him to look at her.

Verosika: You know I don't give a fuck about authority figures, if you want her gone, just say the word. I don't give a shit who she is.

Adam sighed and petted Verosika's hand: No, it's okay... I'll see her.

-

Adam stood outside his dressing room door. He was beyond pissed off. And scared. How dare Charlie think she can just invade his space and wait for him. Like some hunter.

Opening the door, Adam couldn't help but glare at her- and glare harder at Vaggie. Because of cause the princess couldn't leave the hotel without her guard dog.

He's never felt much anger towards Charlie, but now? Since everything that had gone down with Lucifer? Yeah, no. Fuck her. It was her fault.

Adam: Oh look. Two lesbos invading my personal space. Again. And I'm not even being paid this time.

Adam walked past the girls and sat down at his makeup table, spinning his chair around to face them. He did his best to look unbothered, but judging by the way Charlie flinched and looked down, he wasn't doing very well.

Vaggie: You're lucky we paid you the first time.

Adam glared: Sorry. I don't talk to dogs. And in fact, their not allowed in the dressing rooms. They shit everywhere.

He smirked as Vaggie growled: Watch yourself mouth, whore-!

Adam: See, there it goes. Shitting. Either treat me with respect, or get the fuck out! I'm done dealing with assholes who think they can treat me anyway they fucking want.

Charlie: Adam- I swear, that isn't what we're doing-.

Adam: Really? Before you showed up, I only had one freak to worry about, but all of a sudden, I got attacked by some short asshole, who THEN came to my fucking house- the only safe place I had, and tried to fuck me! So, I don't care what you're doing. You're lucky I'm even agreeing to speak eith you.

Vaggie: Not like you get a choice, she is the princess-.

Adam: I don't give a shit who she is. So, hurry up. The fuck are you hear for?

Vaggie: Ad-.

Adam: I wasn't speaking to you. Or are you Charlie's voice as well? Little princess can't speak for herself now?

Charlie: I can. Sorry, Adam. I uh... I'm here to see you about... dad-.

Adam: Ha! Nope. I have a restraining order on him for a fucking reason. Let me guess, the short king depressed because he didn't get his way? Typical.

Charlie: Adam- please. He's... broken.

Adam: Good. No one gave a shit when I was fucking hurting! Why do I have to put down everything and stop my life, to comfort people who didn't give a shit about me?! You don't even know the shit I've fucking been through, not only in Hell, but Heaven and Eden as well!

Adam folded his arms: Short king finally got a taste of his own medicine? Fucking good. Don't bother me about it.

Charlie: He loves you, Adam!

Adam: Yeah? And I loved him in Eden. He didn't care, in fact he fucking laughed at me! Both if you shit hole parents did. So, fuck. Him. And not in the good way.

Charlie sighed, only smiling when Vaggie rubbed her back. She had no idea how to convince Adam.

Succubus au

@beef-brisket

@fanofstuff01

(This au was originally on @things-aren't-what-they-seem66blog and was originally thought of by an anonymous ask)

The roaring of the crowd and the playing of his guitar deafened his ears but the incubus didn't care. He loved the way they cheered his name while he shredded on his axe. With one final strum, his song was done. He raised his arms and gave the horns, to which his fans reciprocated, and bid them all goodnight. He walked away his hands still raised until he was out of sight from them. Adam sighed heavily and wiped the sweat with his forearm as he made his way to his dressing room.

Once there he flopped onto the couch and groaned. Though Adam loved being a rockstar and having adoring fans, he wouldn't lie to himself, each performance, especially concerts, can be quite draining since he always had to prepare with mic checks and making sure he sounded right. Steve, his producer/manager/on-and-off-again fling, always assured him that these were mandatory. Just one of those sacrifices that come with being a star. Still, Adam felt a little like shit and he needed a drink, a hard one. Unfortunately, his evening wasn't quite over yet as knocking was heard from the other side of the door then a voice called out.

Assistant: Excuse me? Commander? I'm sorry for bothering you but I brought the VIP guests here with me.

Adam sighed completely forgetting about that. Almost all VIPs get access to meet him after every show. Though he loved his fans coming to him and saying how much they loved him, maybe even getting some head from the older crowd, tonight, he didn't want to. However, he knew that he didn't have much of a choice. Unless he wanted Steve up his ass, and not in a good way. Letting out a long groan he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and yelled out to her.

Adam: Bring them in.

He closed his eyes and sighed once again as he heard the door open and feet shuffle in. He prepared himself for the immediate responses of squealing and clamoring over to shake his hand. However, he was not prepared for a familiar voice to call out his name.

Charlie: A, Adam?

He opened his eyes and standing in front of him were Charlie, Vaggie, and a one-eyed sinner.

[scificrows]

i like to make fun of murderbot for being all "i hate everyone, i don't care about anything or anyone, fuck off" while simultaneously caring very much about the people around it and the situations it finds itself in. i love how it "accidentally" ends up caring quite a lot about the friends it makes along the way. but i think something that i tend to forget is that murderbot actively decides to care - at least at some point in its story.

idk, as a person that struggles with depression, this paragraph from artificial condition really resonates with me. prior to all systems red, murderbot had contracts. it had routine and it had protocols. it knew what it had to do to just get by, how to perform so no one would notice it had disabled its governor module. it was deeply depressed, yes, but it was functioning (for lack of a better word). in artificial condition, murderbot's routine is gone. it cannot go on in that state of numbly going-from-contract-to-contract, putting in as little effort as possible, consuming media to cope. that option is gone because it escaped (and note that escaping the company was not an active choice, it kinda happened to it). murderbot has two options now: it can either gather all its energy; actively do something new and difficult and distressing; change something in its life and try. or it can let the numbness and the emptiness take over and stop trying. if murderbot wants to survive as a rogue secunit, it has to try. no matter how difficult that is. the wording in that paragraph really hits home for me. the way the non-caring sees an opportunity to slip in and to take over. does murderbot even care? does anything really matter? is anything really worth the hassle? wouldn't it be so much easier to just let your mind slip away a little, to go numb, to be passive, to watch media and wait for things to happen to you? wouldn't it be nice to stop thinking and struggling and feeling complicated things? to stop making an effort? you've been dealing with a lot lately and maybe it's time to just shut down. maybe you'll just take a little break. just slip deeper into this chair and start the show. time flies when you're not paying attention. trying is exhausting. who cares if you don't do the things you wanted to do, you were supposed to do. it'll be fine. let's just ignore those things for now. just let the non-caring take over. just stop thinking. you can deal with the aftermath later. just watch your shows. who cares. but murderbot cares. it decides to care. it decides to fight with all it has and i think that is so brave. and i think in the later books caring is less of an active decision for murderbot. once you start caring, it's easier to keep going than to stop; and murderbot, for all its "i'm a grumpy rogue secunit, leave me alone" behavior, knows just how important caring is. so it's not that it doesn't know what's happening; rather, it lets itself care. tl;dr: caring is not the default for murderbot, it's just the more difficult of two options. and it decides not to take the soft option. it decides to struggle. it decides to care. and so it does.

[xiii-e]

//ooc posting: I NEED to find more fun/silly things to do with my two they are Not meant to be all agony all the time I swear- I just have a penchant for the dramatic and they're a little in the torment nexus o(-< but on god they will Have Fun too

[bylertruther]

moodboard for when you lose the idgaf war. or something. again

[aesethewitch]

When I was a kid, we moved into a house that had a huge lilac tree out front. It was mostly rotten, and it needed to be taken down before it fell. It took a while, but eventually, it was gone.

Mostly. A couple years later, little lilac babies popped out of the ground in its place. My mom was determined to get rid of them, because she'd planted a beautiful flower garden there, and the lilac trees would overshadow and kill the whole garden. I insisted on saving at least a few saplings. She said fine, but I had to dig them out and put them in pots myself.

So, I did. I spent days digging little lilac bushes out of the ground and putting them into pots. Some couldn't be saved, but some could. When all was said and done, I had five brand-new lilac saplings. Seven or eight years old, and it was my absolute pride and joy.

Three died due to sun scorching, severe drought that no amount of watering could save, and perhaps just being moved from their place in the ground. But two survived, and I was awfully proud of them! I'd go out and talk to them every single day. I watered them by hand and made sure they were fertilized properly. I learned all about their favored environments, and I was determined to make sure they lived.

One of my mom's friends saw what I was doing with the lilacs. She asked if she could have one to put in her backyard, and I agreed on the condition that she take very, very good care of it.

It's now fucking enormous. I'm talking ten feet tall and bursting with beautiful purple flowers every spring. My mom still gets updates each year as they start to bloom, which she forwards to me. And all I can think is, "That's my friend! Thriving some twenty years on, there it is."

The other tree nearly died, too. It lived in a pot for far, far too long. I wanted to plant it somewhere in my parents' yard, but my mom was reluctant. Eventually, we agreed to put it in the far back garden. It grew okay for many years, despite the shade, but in all these years, it's never bloomed.

Last year, the massive tree casting massive shadows over the lilac and the garden cracked in half and fell. It tumbled into the garden, crushing part of the nearby shed and destroying a few plants beneath it.

It missed my lilac by inches.

The clean-up is long done. The rest of the tree has been cut down, and my lilac has full sunlight for the first time in fifteen years. It won't bloom this year, I know. But it's got new shoots up. It's taller than ever. I spent half an hour a few weeks ago praising it for surviving all this time, dreaming about its future and telling it how I believe it'll become the tall beauty it's always been meant to be.

I think next year, I'll see flowers.

[bi-writes]

how would arguments go between simon and MOB? i imagine he would never dare raise his voice at her.

simon does not argue with his wife. if you are in danger or something is wrong, i could see him using a little bit of his lieutenant's voice just to get you to listen to him. to "get behind me" or "i'll take care of this, you go." otherwise, there's no resistance. none at all.

"you know, simon, i..." you stop at the door, swallowing. you rub a hand over your forehead, shaking your head. "i...i-i really don't want to go."

he shuffles in his boots, staring at you carefully. you're all dressed up; you've got a new dress on (that he bought you, eagerly), and you've done your makeup. you clutch your purse with clammy hands, and he narrows his eyes when he sees the tremble in your bottom lip. he clears his throat, taking his jacket off. he removes his boots quietly, scratching the back of his neck as he comes close to you to take your bag and hang it up by the door again.

"okay," simon murmurs. "then we won't go."

he doesn't tell you about the cancellation fee.

"'ello?"

"simon!"

he startles awake this time, holding the phone closer to his ear. the sheer anxiety in your voice cuts his gut sharp.

"wot? wot is it? wot happened?"

"i--i totally...i screwed up, simon--oh, god, i'm so sorry--"

"oi!" simon says firmly. "wot happened?"

"i...i'm at the shop, someone was going to back into me, so i swerved, and--"

"fuck," simon breathes. "are ya olright?"

"the car, it's--"

"not wot i asked," simon interrupts you. "are ya hurt?"

"w-what? i..." you sniffle. "no. i'm okay. just a little sore, i guess..."

simon lets out a deep breath, shaking his head.

"i'm coming," simon says lowly. "you stay there, baby. don't move."

"but, simon, the walk is--"

"i'll see ya in twenty."

"oh, no, no, no, no!" you gasp. the orange tabby's head perks up at the sound of your voice at the door. she's got one of simon's masks in her mouth, and even from this distance and without the lights turned on, you can tell the fabric is shredded to bits. it's all over the floor, scattered across the couch, flecks of lint in her fur.

"oh, god, how could you?!" you panic a little. she must have gotten into some kind of drawer or basket or the laundry, because as you start towards her, she darts away, leading you across the house where you can see shreds of more masks and simon's socks strewn about the house. "oh, no!"

the front door closes heavy. when you come into the living room, simon is there, dropping his gear onto the floor. he looks tired--his shoulders sag, and you can see his eyes half-lidded and barely opening.

"simon, i'm...i'm s-sorry, she--"

you're holding his tattered clothes, but before you can say anything more, he grabs you by the shoulders and hugs you so tight. you nearly lose your breath from how he crushes you to his chest, and you let out a quiet whimper when his knees buckle and he falls to the floor with you, cradling your head to his chest and kissing your forehead through the mask over and over.

you're here. you're real. you're alive.

you drop the shredded fabric and hug him back, closing your eyes as you breathe him in. he tips your head back finally, ripping his mask off and kissing you hard.

he doesn't care when he sees the orange cat take a bite of his thrown mask and run away with it.

he can buy a million masks. but his girls--he pulls back from your kiss to stare down at you, intense. he hasn't slept in days, and he hasn't had a decent meal in weeks, camping on different rooftops just to track a shipment, and when that bullet whizzed past his head, all he could think about was you. the cat-bitten plants. the warm food. the cherry dress. some things cannot be replaced.

some brides cannot be ordered again. they don't make them like you.

you are one of a kind.

[imaginedisish]

I'm Not In Love (Logan Howlett x fem!Reader)

A/N: Okay, so this if my first fic in over a year, and it's also my first Wolverine fic...so please be kind. I'm just getting back into the groove. Expect it to possibly be a little rough. This is big time inspired by "I'm Not In Love" by 10cc. This fic is also thanks to a request I got from an anonymous user! Thanks for the idea, anon! Hope it's okay! Enjoy guys.

Summary: After harboring a crush on Logan for months, things finally come to a head while on an overnight mission.

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. There's like no plot here just smut, Unprotected PIV sex (wrap it up), Oral (f!receiving), AFAB reader, Sizekink!(this was a specific size kink request, and so the reader is therefore described as being smaller than Logan/his shirt being big on her), cursing, praise kink, OOC!Logan (just putting this out there because I haven't seen the X-Men movies/read X-Men comics in forever and I'm probably giving him terms he doesn't use/having him act in ways he might not typically), feelings, cocky!Logan, softdom!Logan, one bed muahaha, probably grammar errors, think that's it?

Word Count: 3,162 I got carried away

He was driving you absolutely crazy. Logan. Logan fucking Howlett, with his cocksure attitude and self-satisfied smile. Maybe it’s the way he thinks he’s always right. Maybe it’s that stupid stubbornness, that prowl he does when he walks across a room to meet you. To mock you. His whole being towering over you—his musky, pine-scented cologne filling your lungs. He’s everywhere—and not just metaphorically—literally and physically. His giant frame shadows yours, and you can’t help but admit that there’s something about it…something about him. 

You want him. Bad. And although you won’t admit it, you’ve wanted him for months. And so, as of lately, he’s not so much a nuisance as much as he’s a distraction. 

You just had to be sent on this mission with Logan—this ridiculous two-day stake-out that you could have done on your own. You’re certainly strong enough; your telekinetic powers and regenerative abilities are enough to handle any situation. And yet, here you are, walking up to a motel with Logan fucking Howlett. 

His frame practically consumes yours as he stands behind you on the sidewalk. You swear you can feel the ghost of his fingertips against your waist, impatient and ready to guide you forward. You silently wish he would—wish he would grab your hips and take you down that alleyway and—

“You okay, darlin’?” His voice is gruff against the shell of your ear. “You seem awfully distracted.”

You swallow your embarrassment and hope he won’t pick up on how fast your heart is beating. “I’m fine, just tired,” you mutter, lying straight through your teeth. You can feel his smirk against the side of your head. He has to know what he’s doing. He has to know how much you want him. 

He chuckles and his chest vibrates against your back. “Too tired for the mission, bub? We’re almost at the motel, don’t worry.” The condescension in his voice is palpable. He knows exactly how to get under your skin. You’re putty in his hands. 

He steps out from behind you, and before you can mourn the loss of the contact, he grabs your hand and leads the way through the doors of the motel. “This okay?” He whispers in your ear, his massive hand giving your smaller one a squeeze. All you can manage is a nod as you approach the front desk. You know it’s just to support your cover—you and Logan are posing as a married couple—but you can’t help but hope it means more. You need it to mean more. 

God, you are so fucked. 

You’re so distracted thinking about how close Logan is to you that you almost miss the moment when the worker at the front desk says the only room left has just one bed. 

You crane your head to look up at Logan, who you find is already looking down at you. 

“That’s perfect,” he says, his eyes still on you. His stare doesn’t budge as the man behind the front desk slides the key towards the two of you. Logan grabs the keys and finally breaks the moment. His hand is still holding yours as he navigates the two of you toward your motel room. 

The room is…small. There’s one queen bed in the center, a bathroom on the other side of the room, and an old box television resting on an even older-looking oak dresser. On the bright side, the place appears to be clean. 

“I should freshen up,” you say, taking off your shoes. Your hand slips out of Logan’s as you pad over to the bathroom with your bag. 

The bathroom isn’t horrible either. Dated, but clean. You brush your teeth and wash your face before undressing and searching for your pajamas in your bag—which, naturally, you forgot to pack. 

“Ah fuck,” You mutter louder than you meant to. 

You hear Logan stirring in the other room, his footsteps quickly approaching the door. “You okay?” You can sense the concern in his voice, and you can’t help but smile. 

“Yeah, just forgot to pack something to wear to bed.” There’s more shuffling on the other side of the door. You hear Logan’s bag zip. 

“You want my shirt?” He asks, standing just outside the door now. 

“I’d feel bad, then you—” Your protests are ignored as he opens the door just enough to toss his Calgary Flames t-shirt onto the bathroom sink, closing it tightly once the shirt lands. You smirk as you walk over to the shirt and put it on. The hem lands at the middle of your thighs. Logan really is massive, you think to yourself. 

You take a deep breath, slowly twist the knob of the bathroom door, and head outside. Logan is lounging on the chair next to the dresser, his eyes on you as you place your bag down on the floor at the foot of the bed. 

“Th-thanks for the…” You stutter, trailing off as you nod down to the shirt. 

Logan smirks as he pushes himself out of the chair and makes his way toward you. You think you see him take you in, look you up and down, but that can’t possibly be.

He shakes his head as he stops at your side. You swear you hear him mutter a low fuck under his breath. “You look good.” But he doesn’t stop for long. He pushes forward and into the bathroom. “I’ll sleep on the floor,” he mumbles as he shuts the door behind him. 

“Let’s just share the bed,” you shout back, unsure of where the confidence to say that came from. But there’s no response, just the running of water from the sink. 

You sit on the edge of the bed, waiting for what feels like forever, but Logan doesn’t take long at all. After a few minutes, you hear the sink shut off and the door creek open. 

You shake your head as you stand from the bed to face him. “By the way, you’re not sleeping on the floor, don’t be ridic—” You’re too stunned to say another word. You’ve seen Logan shirtless before, sure, but not like this. Not in just his boxers. Not in a room with him, alone, for an entire night. You need to relax, to calm down, but there’s nowhere else to go, and nothing else to look at. You know he can your heart beating out of your chest now. 

 He steps toward you, engulfing you with his presence. You stare up at him. “Am I really that scary?” He closes the distance between the two of you. 

You try to play dumb. “W-what are you talking about?”

“Every time I get close to you, that little heart of yours practically explodes.”

You swallow roughly. “I d-don’t know what you’re talking about, Logan.” But your shaky voice gives it away. You know exactly what he means. 

His arms snake around your waist, resting on your lower back. “Yeah, you do, darlin’,” he says. “You afraid of me or something?” God he is so fucking cocky, you think to yourself. 

“’M’not afraid of you,” you whisper. “Could never be afraid of you.” 

He smiles and walks you to the edge of the bed, your knees threatening to buckle under the pressure. “What is it then, hm? You like how big I am? That it?” Your eyes frantically search his face for some sort of excuse, some sort of denial. But he can read you like a book. “Yeah, I think that’s it.” He’s towering over you, caging you in. 

“It’s more than that,” you admit. 

He cocks his head to the side. “Oh yeah? What?” He won’t let that be enough—you know he won’t. He’ll tease it out of you. His presence is dizzying and distracting. You’re not even sure you can form another complete sentence. 

“I-it’s just you,” you finally choke out. 

But it’s not enough for him. “What about me?”

Everything, you want to say. You want to tell him how you feel. “Logan, I…” But you can’t. I’m not in love, that’s what you’ve been trying to convince yourself of for months.  

“Go on, say it. What’s got you going?” He tightens his grip around your waist, his thumbs rubbing gently along your back. He leans down, his lips brushing against your forehead. “Use your words, sweetheart.” 

Your eyes flutter shut, and you take a deep breath. He’s everything and he’s everywhere. He’s in your head and in your hands. You can smell the musk and the pine and a hint of mint and that extra thing that is just distinctly him. He’s warm and his breath ever-so-lightly tickles your ear as his forehead rests against yours. 

And then finally, it comes out.

“I want you, Lo.”

You open your eyes and immediately notice the change in his expression. That cocky grin is gone. He isn’t teasing anymore. This is something else. Want. No, stronger than that. Desire. Adoration. Longing. Like those four words undid something in him. Untangled some knot that had been there for far too long. Almost like he thought you maybe wouldn’t want this. That maybe someone wouldn’t want him. 

So, you say it again. “I want you, Logan.” 

He shuts his eyes. “Fuck.” 

And then he’s pushing you down onto the mattress. His lips find their way to yours, crashing like the world is about to end. You can feel his hunger, his desperation. He rests one hand next to your head for balance and slips his free hand underneath the shirt he lent you. He’s exploring the curves of your body, the dips and turns, eventually pulling the shirt up and over your head. 

He comes up for air as his fingers play with the clasp of your bra. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “This okay?” He asks, waiting for your approval. You nod and the hooks are immediately undone. You arch your back so he can slip the bra off. “Fuck, pretty girl,” he mumbles. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” 

His hands find their way to your chest, his thumbs brushing over your nipples, teasing you, pinching lightly. 

“Lo, please. Need you,” is all you can say. 

He trails a line of kisses down your jaw, your neck, your collarbone, the center of your chest, his mouth traveling achingly slowly until finally landing on one of your tits. He kisses your nipple before taking it into his mouth, biting lightly and licking the hurt away. 

“Please,” you beg again. 

He comes up for a moment. “Please what?” He asks before moving on to the other side. 

“Need you so bad,” You whimper. But he doesn’t stop. “N-need you to touch me.”

He pauses again. “Think I’m already doing that, darlin’. Gonna have to be more specific.” 

“Fuck me, please.”  

He shakes his head. “Wanna make you feel good first, pretty girl.” 

You sit up a bit, ready to protest. “But you are. You’re making me feel so—” You’re cut off by the sight of him staring up at you as he trails kisses down your stomach, stopping at the top of your panties. He grabs your hips and pushes you further into the center of the bed. His fingers slip under the hem of your panties, waiting for your approval. You nod, and he practically tears them right off you. 

Logan kisses the inside of your thigh, slowly charting a path toward your core, his thumb tracing circles on the other thigh. You’re already squirming under his touch. “Lo,” You whimper. “Please—Fuck!” Without warning, his tongue licks a long stripe up your folds to your clit. His lips lock around it, sucking softly, his fingers suddenly teasing your entrance before slipping a finger inside.

“So tight darlin’. Gonna feel so good,” he mumbles against you, the vibrations of his deep voice sending a jolt up your spine. 

He’s taking his time, tasting you, savoring you. His tongue laps at your cunt, licking slow circles as his finger pumps in and out. You need more.

“Lo,” You call out, your back arching in pleasure. But he doesn’t answer. He keeps going as if he’s gotten lost in you, as if there’s nothing that can possibly be said to bring him back. “Lo, please,” you moan again. 

He chuckles against your core. “Please what, pretty girl?” He mumbles. You can feel his smirk against you.

“M-more,” you beg. You can feel his smirk grow wider as his motions stall. “No don’t stop, please don’t stop.” 

He looks up at you, his finger buried deep inside your cunt, his lips just inches from your clit. “Wanna take my time with you, darlin’.”

“Y-you c-can,” You stutter. “W-whatever you want. Just need more.”

“More?” He repeats, arrogantly tilting his head. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight. 

“Yes, please.” But you know by the look in his eyes that you’re getting more than you bargained for. 

He adds another finger, pumping in and out faster than before. His lips latch onto your clit, sucking roughly. It’s overwhelming, and you know he isn’t going to let up. His tongue draws circles around your core, flicking harshly before ruthlessly sucking again. You can feel a third finger prodding your entrance before slipping in and stretching you out. 

“This what you wanted?” He teases.

“Lo, I—” It’s too much, you can’t speak. 

“I’ve got you darlin’. I’m right here. You’re doing so good for me.” His words by themselves practically send you over the edge. 

“’M’so close Logan,” You whimper, spurring him on. His pace quickens; his circles become harder. You can feel your walls tightening around his fingers. 

“I know, pretty girl. Wanna feel you come on my fingers. Can you do that for me?” 

You can’t even speak anymore. All you can manage is a hum that passes for an affirmative. He pumps in and out of you, still alternating between sucking your clit and circling it with his tongue. 

“Look so beautiful like this darlin’. So fucking beautiful,” He husks. And that’s all it takes to make that liquid heat, that tension building in the bottom of your stomach, cut like a knife, pouring out of you. Your vision blurs as you let yourself go. You chant his name like it’s a prayer, a spell, something otherworldly. He finally slows down, letting you ride out your orgasm. 

He pulls out and away from you, crawling up your body so that he’s on top of you. He’s absolutely huge; his arms rest next to your head, caging you in. “You alright sweetheart?” He asks, one hand coming up to cup your cheek as he presses a chaste kiss against your forehead. 

“Hm,” You hum. “Like you like this.”

There’s that cocky smirk again. “Like what?”

“O-on top of me,” You admit freely now. Your arms come up to wrap around his shoulders, but he quickly pins them above your head.

He smiles widely, his forehead coming down to rest on yours. You can feel his erection press against your core through his boxers. And—fuck—he’s big. “Gonna fuck you like this then, okay pretty girl?”

“P-please,” you stutter. 

He sits up, pulling his boxers down, revealing just how big he is. You swallow harshly, sitting up and watching as he casts his boxers to the side. He doesn’t let you watch for long. He pins you down again, one hand keeping your hands above your head and supporting his weight, while the other guides his cock to your entrance. His slides against your folds before slowly sinking inside you. You can’t help but arch your back to meet his chest. 

Everything is slow. He’s taking his time again, letting himself feel every inch of you, giving you the chance to adjust to the size of him. His free hand reaches in between your bodies and finds your clit, drawing slow, gentle circles. 

His forehead rests against yours as he thrusts into you. “Wanted this for so long,” he confesses, his thrusts growing faster. “Always wanted you, darlin’.” You can feel your heart burst in your chest as his lips meet yours. You can feel his hunger, his desire. 

“Wanted you too,” You whisper against his lips between kisses. 

His cock rubs against your walls, hitting that sweet spot every single time. He’s massive, stretching you out with each pump. He builds speed, his thrusts growing rougher as his fingers circle your clit faster. 

He whispers praises in your ear. “You feel so good, pretty girl. So fucking tight. Need you, darlin’. Always.” 

Always. 

It’s all too much. The words, the vulnerability, the feeling of him rutting into you with no end in sight. The promise of something else, something more. 

“Logan, I’m gonna…” You trail off, your walls tightening around him. It’s all so overwhelming. But if you’re being honest, you never want it to end. This. This feeling. Him inside you. Him around you. 

He curses under his breath, his thrusts becoming sloppier and faster as he chases his orgasm. “I know darlin’. Wanna feel you come on my cock.” He keeps his fingers steady on your clit, circling roughly, chasing your orgasm too. 

“Lo,” You mumble. “It’s so good. Y-you’re so good, so b-beautiful.” You’re a bumbling mess, but you want him to feel good too, to know what he’s doing to you, to know that he deserves this. Deserves to be wanted. 

You feel wetness on his cheeks as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. “Always wanted you,” he whispers again against the shell of your ear. “Always gonna want you.” 

The tension snaps, and you feel blaring white heat ripple through your body. Logan somehow buries himself deeper inside you as you come, your walls squeezing him tighter. 

“F-fuck,” he groans. “Where do you want—”

You cut him off this time. “Inside, please,” you pant. “Safe.” He curses under his breath and calls out your name as he fills you up. 

“So perfect,” he whispers. “So fucking perfect.”

His thrusts slow down as he finishes, and he slowly pulls out of you. But he doesn’t pull away. He keeps you close, moving you both towards the headboard. It takes a minute, but he manages to keep you close to his chest as he undoes the covers and gets you both inside them. 

Logan holds you tightly, peppering kisses against your temples every now and then. 

He’s the first to speak. “When I said always…” He trails off. You brace yourself for the worst. It was just the heat of the moment, bub. ‘M’sorry I said it. This shouldn’t happen again. It was a one-time thing and I—

“I meant it.”

You look up at him, eyes wide. He smiles. But it’s not that cocky smile, not that self-satisfied shit-eating grin. It’s that other thing again. Longing. 

“I meant it, too.” 

tags: @cypherpt5fttaehyung