#old stubborn cigars

[themsource]

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Featuring Stanley Pines as 'Andrew "8-Ball" Alcatraz' repping his favorite cigar brand! I caught the name of them while rewatching gravity falls for the third time and had to make it lol

Grunkle version and screenshots beneath the cut

I'm still coming into how I really want to style everyone ^^;

As you can see there's no 'since 1933' on them, but that's because that's more just my headcanon. I like to think these are the cigars he saw his father smoke, and so the ones he got started and hooked on when he started smoking them in his youth at 16 (the legal tobacco age for New Jersey in the 60s-70s according to google). Stan having a smoker's voice is a major idea I subscribe to lol

Filbrick I headcanon was somewhere in his twenties when he and Caryn had the twins, so I made the cigars a bit older to where maybe he saw his own father with them. A generational thing maybe? If Stan and Ford were ten in a TOTS then I can see them having witnessed Filbrick smoking regularly in his thirties as public smoking was trendy back then.

[nanivinsmoke]

❥ Chauffeur .

❥ old!manlogan x fem!reader

summary: mean old logan can’t help but to push the best thing away in his life. and you can’t help but to let go of your worst.

❥ tags: stubbornness, age gap (readers in her late 20s), reader is a mutant, old man logan having a wet dream, car sex, riding, creampies, possibly pregnancy, reader is very rich and established, brat taming, reader’s boyfriend is an ASSHOLE, logan is an asshole but that’s nothing new, etc…

note: we all wanna ride, old man logan. also, stepping away from jjk for a bit. wc: 4.9k

Everyday was the same when you got into the car. There was a smile on your face and you greeted him, even if you didn’t get a response most of the time—you still treated him with kindness. He was your driver after all and you were trusting him with your life.

“45th and Madison, please.” You placed your purse into your lap and buckled up as he pulled off from your house, keeping his eyes on the road.

“How was your night Logan? Get any rest?” You stared at the side of his face, taking in his rugged features. “Good.” Was all he grunted, hands gripping the steering wheel as he navigated the busy streets of New York. You didn’t bother to question him anymore, not wanting to piss him off on this beautiful morning.

The car ride was silent on the way to your company, the only thing that couldn’t be heard was the soft hum of the car and the sound of the air conditioner blowing its cool air. And when he pulled up to your job, you opened your mouth to speak, “thanks, and here—.” you leaned over and handled him an envelope full of money, the scent of cigars and cologne invading your nostrils; making you swoon.

He muttered a thanks and you quickly got out of the car, “I’ll text you what time to pick me up! Later Logan~” You waved and smiled, watching the old man pull off into the nearby traffic—before you entered the double doors to your million dollar company.

You were one of the top businesswomen in the world, employing the most mutants and paying them fairly. You started this company when you were just a teen, not seeing any jobs for mutants when you were growing up—so you decided to make that change. You wanted a safe place for mutants to be able to work in, something like your mentor; Charles Xavier wanted.

You had to do it for your people, especially when the whole world was against you all.

Even though you were a multimillionaire and you owned a license, you didn’t have time to drive yourself around. You hired Logan after a friend recommended him. They praised him for everything that he did for them, he was more than a driver, and when got the chance to meet him in person—you were sold.

You grew very fond of the older man as time passed. He plagued your mind as you worked, his face clouding your thoughts while you were in important meetings—driving you insane. It was clear as day that you had a crush on him, however despite how you felt; you knew he would never think of you like the way you thought of him.

“Will you have dinner with me tonight? Wear that red dress that makes you look like a fucking supermodel?” The voice of your business partner and boyfriend broke you out of your daze, while the two of you ate lunch in the high-end lounge your company acquired.

Eric, was a guy you met at a press conference that supported you when you wanted to have more mutants employed and treated as normal in the world, when the public was against your kind. He was intelligent and an all around amazing person, and when he asked you out one day—the two of you immediately hit it off. You were happy to have him…..but there was something you didn’t like. He would put himself first before you.

He did this a couple of times, putting him and his buddies before you; and you called him out on it—but he always apologized and told you it wouldn’t happen again. Liar.

“Will it just be us this time? Last time it was me and your frat brothers. And I hate that night, you left me all alone.” You pouted and he chuckled before leaning over to kiss your lips. “It’ll just be us this time, I promi—hold that thought,” his phone started to ring and he quickly pulled it out; talking to whoever was on the other end. You sighed and continued munching on your food, before you headed back to your office; alone.

Logan was already outside of your office when you finally exited your company’s building. You hopped into the truck and he pulled off once you buckled up, heading into the direction of your house. “How was your day Logan?” You looked at him through the mirror, studying those hazel eyes of his, which connected onto yours as he answered you.

“Good.” You smiled and relaxed into your seat, enjoying the ride back home. “Oh, Eric’s and I are going out to eat. You can come inside while I get ready, it shouldn’t take long.” You beamed and he tensed up in his seat. You couldn’t see it, but Logan rolled his eyes and gripped the steering wheel at the mention of your boyfriend. He wasn’t fond of him, thought the guy was an asshole from the moment he met him. He felt like you deserved better, he knew you did.

But, who was he to judge? He was no saint himself.

After he pulled up to your house and the two of you entered, you were immediately greeted by your calico—Persia. She purred and rubbed against your leg before she spotted the tall man a few steps behind you. The cat inched over to him and sniffed his pants leg, before she rubbed herself against him; purring once more. Logan grunted and you smiled, reaching down to rub the soft furred animal, “she’s never don’t that before, she usually hisses at strangers. she must really like you.”

As you stepped deeper into your house, putting down your things and slowly stripping out of your work clothes, before turning to the grumpy old man standing at your front door, “He wants me to meet him there. I’m going to get ready, in the meantime are you hungry? Food’s in the fridge.”

“I’m good.” His voice was gruff and his face was blank, when he connected eyes with you, moving away from your cat. You unbuttoned the last black button to your matching button up, leaving you in your deep green matching underwear set—causing him to look away. “I have a huge liquor cabinet, help yourself.”

He watched as you ascended up the stairs before shaking his head and entering your kitchen. He admired your boldness, comfortable enough to undress in front of him, but he felt like he didn’t deserve to see you like that. No one did. Especially that fucked face motherfucka, Eric.

Logan took a look at your cabinet, impressed with your collection of wines, cognacs and other strong liquids; but he was more impressed to see this thirty year aged whiskey you had. Hibiki Whiskey, his favorite. He smiled to himself and grabbed it along with a glass, pouring a nice bit into it; before downing it—the smoothness flowing down his throat beautifully.

He sat on your couch, sipping on the dark liquor, while taking a look around your house. He found comfort in the decor, your home felt….safe. Something he hadn’t felt in ages. It was so safe that he couldn’t help but drift off into sleep, something he hardly did lately.

He must’ve been sleeping for a while, deep into his dream; this one a little different from the one’s he usually had about you.. You had frequented his dream world on occasion when he did sleep. Your warm smile was something he saw on a daily basis; when you were cooking for him or sometimes the two of you appeared in a field of flowers—your smile overshadowed the sun. But, this one was a lot different. You were on top, riding him.

Everything felt and looked so realistic. The same emerald green set you wore was glued to your body. The panties were pulled to the side, your essence sticking to them and his cock; while you bounced. Your body looked so beautiful and he knew he shouldn’t be dreaming about you like this, but he couldn’t help himself—especially when you turned around; face contorted in sheer arousal. And then he lost it, when you opened up your mouth and moaned his name.

“Logan~” fuck, he could feel you clench down on him, as you brought your ass down on him again—moaning his name once more. But this time you were louder, repeating his name over and over again; his tired hazel eyes shooting open, staring at your own. You were standing in front of him, wearing a beautiful ruby red dress; which clung to your body and accentuated your curves, smiling at him.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. But, I need your help zipping up my dress—please~.” He nodded, shifting in his spot to hide the boner that was poking through his black corduroy pants—reaching over to help zip you up. His rough fingers melted into your soft skin, as he held his hand on your upper back for support; his mind going right back to his dream. Fuck, he was going to hell for dreaming about you like that.

You looked beautiful, standing a little taller than usual—thanks to your gold heels that matched your jewelry. You decided to curl your natural hair, which framed your soft made-up face. He could stare at you all day.

“Thanks. I’m ready to go!” And there you go with that smile, that slowly melted his cold heart.

You waited outside of the restaurant in the car, waiting for Eric to show up. It had been ten minutes since you arrived and he still wasn’t there, wasn’t answering his phone either. Your gut told you to leave, but you couldn’t bring yourself to it—you were hoping he would show up. So, to get your mind off of him, you sparked a conversation up with Logan.

“Hey Logan, tell me about yourself. What do you do besides driving?” He clenched his teeth and kept a grip on the car’s steering wheel.

“Nothing.”

“Really? I heard you were a bodyguard and a hitman. What was that—“ He turned around and glared at you, cutting you off as he spoke. “Listen. I’m not one of your fucking girlfriends you sit and gossip with. Got it?” His voice was deep and scary, while his eyes told a different story. However, you nodded and looked away, blinking back the tears that wanted to leave your own.

Then, your phone rang and you immediately answered. On the other end of the line was Eric, apologizing about not showing up and begging for the two of you to reschedule. You swallowed the lump in your throat and told him that it was alright, saying you were tired anyways; before hanging up and slumping into your seat. “Take me home.” Was all that you could muster up to say, before a stream of tears cascaded down your face—ruining your makeup.

The car ride was silent, besides the sounds of your sobs—which slowly broke the old man. He kept glancing at you through the mirror, feeling like a dick because he played a part in your sadness too. But, an apart of him felt angry, he wanted to kick Eric’s ass for standing you up. How could he not see what was right in front of him?

As the car halted in front of your house, you immediately got out, slamming the door behind you before you sped walked to the front door—not looking back—too embarrassed to speak to him. And one he saw that you were safely inside, he drove off and headed into the direction of the nearby bar—ready to drink the night away.

This was one of the worst nights ever and neither of you would forget it.

The following days were like a blur for you. You hadn’t been to work for a week, taking some time off to try and understand your mental.

That day played in your mind over and over, you were hurt twice that night. But, the look on Logan’s face haunted you. You could tell there was more behind those eyes, besides all that anger, something else laid behind them—and you wanted to know more. No matter how much he tried to push you away.

Currently, you were sitting on your couch with Persia by your side, eating ice cream and watching whatever was on tv—ignoring the spam calls from Eric; when you were startled by a loud pound on your front door. You looked at the door then at Persia, fists clenched as your powers started to surge; before you started to creep towards the door. You swung it open, ready to pummel whoever was on the other side, until you saw who was standing on your porch.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped, looking at the older man who was covered in blood and holding onto his arm. “Logan! What the hell happened?” You asked, helping him into your home and shutting the door afterwards—to hide him from any nosey neighbors; before you ushered him into your downstairs bathroom. He sat down on the toilet with a clang, before he started to remove his clothes; with your help.

“Whose blood is this?” You asked, putting his bloody beater into the hammer behind you before inspecting his scarred face. “Most of it was someone else’s. Don’t worry, I’ll heal.” He moved away from your touch, but you immediately pulled him back; your eyes piercing him.

“I know, but until your healing factor kicks in, im gonna help. And i'm not asking.” He chuckled and nodded his head, before you used your powers on him—stopping the blood from leaking out until his own power’s kicked in. One of his thick eyebrows raised in confusion, before you answered him.

“Blood manipulation. Now let’s put that shoulder back in place. Here, bite down on this.” You handed him a washcloth, but he declined.

“Just do it, princess. I can take it.” He reassured and you stared at him for a moment, before whispering an ‘okay’. Without warning, you gripped his arm and pushed it back into his socket, making him yell out in pain—his claws unsheathing in the process.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” You apologized, making him shake his head in response. His claws retracted and he pulled you in by your waist—his body heat warming you as you stood next to him. His hazel eyes searched all over your face, lingering on your plump lips before backing up to your soft irises, “need a drink, right now.”

The two of you sat in your kitchen, sharing a bottle of ten year old cognac, while Logan shared stories about what he did—answering your question from last week. “I also take care of Charles….Charles Xavier.” You swallowed the smooth liquor, before responding.

“Oh, I knew that already.” He raised an eyebrow and you giggled, continuing. “He accidentally called on your phone, thinking I was Taco Bell, until I spoke with him. He’s a funny guy, I’ve always imagined he was……I was a big fan of his when I was younger.” There was some silence, as he thought about the Professor and his current state.

You got up from your spot and put your glass in the sink, done drinking for night, before going into the fridge for a snack—until his deep voice made you stop moving. “Look, princess….about the other night—“

“It’s fine. No need to apologize.”

“No, but I need to. I was a jerk and you just wanted to get to know me. So, I'm sorry.” He was now standing in front of you, towering over you, still shirtless from earlier. Your eyes trailed over his hairy, toned abs, before you looked up at his beautiful rugged face—pressing your thighs together as you felt that familiar pulsing between your legs. You nodded and turned on your heels to leave, but his rough hands pulled you back; making you stumble, before he caught you.

“What happened to you and what’s his face?” He spoke and you snorted, rolling your eyes at the thought of Eric. “He’s an asshole, who likes to waste my time.“

Logan clenched his teeth, feeling himself get upset at the mere thought of him mistreating you. “Dick can’t see what the hell he has right in front of him?” You blushed, and bit your bottom lip, your smaller hands reaching up to toy with his platinum dog tags. “Neither can you.”

He froze and you stopped moving, eyes slowly looking up at his, until he leaned down and pulled you in a wet, sloppy kiss. His hands immediately went down to your ass, squeezing the soft fat through your tiny black shorts; something he thought doing for a while now. You squealed when he picked you up and placed you onto the countertop behind you, never breaking his lips from yours. Despite being an old man, he still had the same strength he did when he was younger.

He kissed down from your lips to your chest that was hidden behind your hot pink beater, nipples standing at attention. He circled the imprint of them with his tongue, making you moan out, before he made his way down to your clothed cunt; your arousal plaguing his nose.

“Knew you wanted this since earlier, could smell her calling out for me~” He swiped his tongue over your clothed slit, slick already staining the dark fabric. He pulled the shorts down with ease, hazel eyes growing darker as he was met face to face with your bare cunt; your essence making your puffy lips glisten.

“Shit.” He cursed, loving the sight of your pretty pussy dripping just for him, he couldn’t help but to dive in and enjoy the meal you had set right in front of him. The sensation of his beard and his tongue rubbing against you, made you moan out; back arching off of the counter and your hands tugging on his salt n pepper colored hair—grinding against his face.

He worked wonders on your clit, sucking on the sensitive bud, forcing more and more of your sweet translucent arousal from your aching hole; building up your orgasm. Logan spat against your soaked cunt, using his fingers to rub it all over soft lips; before pushing a thick finger into your hole—making you yell out a series of curse words.

“Gonna cum—f-fuck! Just like that Logan!” He continued to lap up your juice and pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them—making them punch your spot over and over; making you gush all over him. The grip you had on his hair was tight as you came, but he ignored it and continued to draw out your orgasm; before pulling away and pressing his wet lips against yours.

The kiss was sloppy, filled with nothing but hunger as you licked every inch of his wet face, tasting yourself; a low hum leaving his lips. And as your hand reached down to feel the bulge in his pants, he pulled away—making you whimper. But, when he backed further away and wouldn’t look at you, you noticed something was wrong.

“Logan?” You started, slipping off the counter, legs wobbling as you stood and walked over to him; only for him to back away once more.

“Gotta go. This was a mistake.” And before you could protest, he made a beeline to your front door, opening it and shutting it behind him; not bothering to grab his shirt or turning to look at you.

What the actual fuck?

You returned back to work the following day. Logan dropped you off of course, but he barely acknowledged you—evident he didn’t want to talk about what happened yesterday. But, you needed to talk about it, wondering what made him stop. Surely he didn’t think you would just be alright with him eating your pussy and making you cum, and not feel something about him?

However, you would deal with the grumpy old man later. Today, you had to face the asshole of the year, Eric. You left the car with a simple ‘bye’ to Logan, before taking the elevator ride up to your office’s floor, trying to push yesterday’s events out of your mind.

Your baby blue heels clicked on the wooden floor as you sashayed down the walk way, making heads turn and people cheer; excited for your return. However as you approached your office, you were stopped by your assistant, who had a look of worry on their face.

“What’s the matter?” You questioned, looking at your office before going back to your assistant. They gulped and prepared themselves to tell you what lies in your office.

“Mr. Eric’s in there...and he’s not alone. He’s with another—“ you cut them off and storm past them, opening the wooden door, eyes glued to the horrific sight in front of you. Your boyfriend was balls deep into your new intern, having her bent over your crisp white desk.

The sound of the door slamming shut startled them and the girl screamed, scrambling to pull her skirt down, while apologizing to you frantically. You held up your finger and shushed her, motioning to the door so she could leave. And once she did, you immediately sauntered over to the guilty male—body temperature increasing by the second.

“How long?” You questioned, your tone flat and emotionless. He stuttered, but then he looked down and looked back up—a devious smirk on his face.

“A good couple of months now. Why’d you think i pushed for you to hire her? What, did you think I’d actually love someone like you?” He chuckled, circling around you, while you raised an eyebrow. “And what does that mean? Someone like me?”

“Your kind! A fucking mutant! I’ve been using you from the beginning, I just wanted to get my hands on this company—have you mutants under my control. Starting with you—“ You set him flying back with a punch to his cheek, making him fly through the door; knocking it down.

All you saw was red as you marched over to him, your employees shocked at what was going down, but none of them dared to step in. “This….this is what I expected from you people! Pure chaos and violence.” He smirked, blood pooling from his mouth as he spewed his hate.

Using your powers, you were able to make more blood flow out of him; making a wound in his lung—which caused him to cough up some more blood. And as you raised your fist to punch him once more, your wrist was caught—stopping your movements. You turned to see Logan, his hazel eyes begging for you to stop.

He smelled danger when he was on his way up to your office, since you had forgotten your phone in the car he wanted to bring it to you. Only to be met with you about to kill a man.

“He’s had enough. Let him go.” You knew better than to protest, so you used your powers to close the internal wound on Eric; calming yourself down as Logan pulled you back into his arms. “Get him out of here, he’s fired!”

You were fuming in the car. Angry was an understatement, you were pissed. You were humiliated. You were hurt. Logan couldn’t stop checking on you through the rear view mirror, until he decided to pull over to the side of the road—putting the car in park. He hopped out of the car and opened up your side door, nodding for you to get out.

“Logan—what are you—“

“Let it out. It helps to let everything out.” You squinted and chuckled. How ironic of him to try and help you not keep things bottled inside.

“You can’t be fucking serious! You of all people, trying to give advice on their feelings? You’re the fucking king of keeping things in!” You stepped closer to him, but he didn’t budge, letting you get it all out of your system.

“You pushed me away from the beginning! Then you come in my fucking house like a wounded dog and then on top of it all—you made me have the best orgasm of my life and let me fall in love with you! Who does that!” Hot tears rolled down your pretty face, while you poked into his broad chest with each word.

You were right. He did push you away. He couldn’t open his heart, his stubbornness would allow him. But, he couldn’t let his past haunt his future, not anymore. So, he decided right then and there to finally open up and let you in.

Logan pulled you in close, the smell of his cologne and the cigar he smoked earlier was soothing; it warmed you—which made it easier for you to accept his kiss. All of that anger washed over you while your tongues danced with one another. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck; while gripping your hips and picking you up—making his way over to the car and placing you in the seats, laying you on your back.

He wasted no time and tugged off your clothes, your grey dress falling to the floor; along with your panties and bra. He stepped back, taking a moment to bask in your glory. You were beautiful and he was going to cherish this moment forever.

His slacks dropped to his ankles and you watched with lidded eyes as he pulled his cock out, making them widen. “Knew you were huge~” you said, your slick pooled and dribbled down your crack, making the black leather seats glisten underneath you.

Logan grabbed his girth, rubbing against your swollen clit; eliciting moans from your sweet lips—coating himself in your fluids. Angling himself at your entrance, he pushed himself in; stretching you as he eased himself in.

“Good—…..girl. That’s it, princess—take all of it” He grunted, praising you as you were able to take all of him in one go. You winced, his tip pressing into your cervix, making you inch away from him—only to be pulled back in. He wanted you to sit there and take it. He was going to give you exactly what you wanted. Some dick.

He held your hips, your legs wrapped around his waist, as he began to move inside of you—his strokes were deep and powerful; making your eyes roll back and your lids flutter. The more he moved, the more you grew aroused—making you a moaning mess while he fucked the shit out of you.

You clung to him with each stroke, making the older male grunt. Your tits bounced and clashed against each other as the two of you moved, hypnotizing Logan. He leaned down and plopped one of them into his mouth, sucking on your nipples like it was a peppermint. You moaned out, hands clawing at the back of the seat right next to you—pleasure too intense for you.

He was fucking you so good, splitting your pussy open with each movement; orgasm rising inside of you. “Please! Logan, I'm gonna cum! Wait—slow down—fuck!” He ignored your pleas, his pace increasing by the second. Who knew that this old man could have that much stamina?

Continuing to make a mess out of your pussy, he continued to rub against your g-spot—making your orgasm course through you. You clung to him and clenched around him sporadically, creaming all over him. He growled, feeling his own orgasm creeping up on him—but you pulled out, causing him to groan.

“Sit. Wanna ride you.”

His hands clung to your waist, helping you bounce on his dick—filling you up completely. You gripped his shoulder for support, as the car rocked with your movements. The sound of your pussy and the clapping of your ass against him, made him feral and he couldn’t help but to grip your ass—hard, pushing you further down on him.

“Fuck, princess. Where do you want it?”

“Inside! Deep inside of me.” You didn’t care what would come afterwards. You just didn’t want him to stop fucking you. Logan pressed another kiss to your lips, rough hands smacking your ass as you moved wildly—walls getting ready to milk him dry. And with a few more hard bounces, he spurted deep inside of you, inner walls being painted a nice shade of white.

Rocking your hips against him, another orgasm made your body shake; cheeks jiggling against him as you came—moaning his name repeatedly.

The two of you stayed like that, his cock softening inside of you, while he continued to bottom out—before he pulled out, tip hitting your ass. You kissed him once more, content with how the night ended; finally with the man you deserved to be with.

“I love you….promise to not push me away?”

He smiled, the first time you saw it on his face, and nodded.

“I love you too.”

[dood-itsradical]

Girlfriend? (repost)

Pairing: Samuel Seo x F!Reader

Summary: Samuel? In a serious relationship? Yeah right.

Genre/Tropes: Drama, angst!! Slow burn, friends with benefits, rivals/hookups to more.

Details: sex toy mentioned, workers!reader, Jake being a wingman. A hint of Jake Kim x Reader (romantic or platonic doesn't matter), not proofread I'm tired.

A/n: He's not my fav but he's such a kinnie help???? I canNOT write action scene 💀💀 As always, I DON'T do requests.

Masterlist

It all started when you asked him out of nowhere about that particular question. Samuel would looks at you weird then baffled a no. Besides, you two are just fuck buddies. Nothing less, nothing more. He made that clear. Showing how less he cares about your well-being, how he makes fun of you, mocking you and shit. The lists goes on.

For some reason instead of pointing out his obvious character, you oddly let him dish you as much as he want. Not to prove him right. You just never find the appeal to bark back snarky comments. It's a total waste of energy. He notices this though. But the fact doesn't let him stop himself from continuing. Saying how you're such a try hard to prove you're better than him.

Working as the Workers meaning you either get to see him alot or kept stumble on each other by coincidence. There's no such thing and rather he believes you followed him. Which isn't false but not exactly the whole true either. Though you never care enough to correct him and secretly find it hilariously cute. But more of a mocking perspective. You wish you could do something to shut him up for once.

Another night was spend later on as two bodies ignites, desperately yearning for that pleasure. He broke most of your cuffs you have without any effort. You weren't shocked but just slightly salty that he refused to submit. Even for the sake of the roleplay. You tried a ball gag on him but he's still loud and stubborn. He's like a damn dog.

You folded your arms, tilting your head as your hair fall to the side. Your gaze roamed with full observation while he spread like a star fish, occupying the whole king sized bed with his calloused tattooed body.

"Can I just top? Just once, please." You begged casually. Testing the water with puppy eyes.

He didn't even nudge, scoffing as his eyes glued on the ceiling. "Like hell. You gonna keep bringing that stupid ass question again, I'm getting pissed off."

Your lips twitched, "So you're mad because I wanna date you?"

"Cut the shit. You don't wanna date me."

You raised a brow, "You said 'you'. Isn't it supposed to be 'I don't wanna date you'? Are you insecure?"

"Fuck you." He spat. You rolled your eyes, "That's exactly what I'm trying to do. Forget about that. I do wanna date with. " You insisted.

"No the fuck you don't."

You frowned. "What? Like it's hard?"

His eyes moved towards you without moving his body parts, "You're asking something you can't get."

"But you're right here."

"That's not my point you bitch." He sighed.

"Sam, you're afraid of commitment." You reasoned. He sneered, "I don't want committment. There's different, get it right." He sit up, using his elbow as support. "Besides, I don't give a fuck about you."

"You said that before. You never try." You played with your fingers while he's getting enough of you. "I don't need to try. I just don't. For fuck's sake." He reached for the cigar and light it up.

That same day you decided to meet an old friend. Hoping for a guide regarding your situation.

"I'm in love with Samuel." You spoked bluntly, making Jake spit out his food with surprise. He coughed, hitting his chest couple times before swallows. "I feel sorry for you."

You punched his side. He winced slightly, rubbing the spot, "What?? It's true. He doesn't looked like the type of guy. Ask anyone!" "But you could at least pretend to be helpful!" You argue back, bringing your knees up your chest.

He wiped his mouth with his wrist, "Hey, I'm protecting you. He's my friend as much as yours. I get it. You like that douche. I'm not against the idea. Hell, if anything I'm happy that it wasn't so hard to imagine you and him together. You're like a sister to me. I want you to be happy too." He ruffles your hair. Although you are unfazed by the affection, your mind continue to ponder elsewhere for solution.

You aren't bound to give up just yet. You just need a small gap to slip inside his- okay that sounded weird. You mean his heart of anything. Even if you admit he has none. So shortly after the visit you texted Samuel for his location, only to be left on read. Typical. You never took it personally. Instead you busy yourself shopping online for new toys to test on him. (Which then you are sure to be tested on you back in the end).

The next few days you see him you were quick to try your new trick under your sleeve. "Hey boyfriend!" You beamed while skipping towards him.

"Fuck, this bitch again." Samuel mumbled to no one. His ass clenched when you gave a good smack on it. His glare goes unnoticed by you. "Say, you avoided my calls. I thought you already find a new side chick." You humoured him.

Goo chimed in, "Ohoho? Scandalous. Seems like you're not so loyal, my friend."

Samuel pushed your head aside harshly, "Don't flatter yourself. We're not together."

You added smugly, recover quickly by the push. "Eh? I said side chick. Nobody said anything about being together though. You brought it up first."

Getting the memo, Goo finger gun you. You mirror him, "Eyy~"

"Fucking bastards." Samuel clenched his jaw.

That same night Samuel let his frustration out of you. Four round or so. You lost count. And by the time he finished, he was quick to get off the bed and pick up his clothes. You sit up, wanting to stop him.

"Hey, stay for awhile." You groaned softly, still very much sore from the previous activity. He ignored you as he put on his shirt. You looked defeated. You slowly starting to realise that maybe you did pushed him too far. You laid your back on the headboard.

"Look, I'm sorry." You sighed, eyes facing your front. "I won't ask again."

Your words were left hanging as you hear the door opens and closes. That night you finally decided to end your routine entirely, knowing he didn't worth the catch at all. You still see each other and act like nothing happens. If only Goo can shut the hell up for once.

So like a month or two, you were on your way to Big Deal street to meet Jake, only to hear from Jerry — who were kind enough to even speak to you after changing side with Samuel — that the boss himself was absent. Claiming that he lack the information you require so you leave with no lead whatsoever.

You tried to text Jake, only for your messages to be left unread. Your calls then went straight to his voicemail. You actually beginning to worry because supposedly he would've noticed by now. Unless he was occupied by something else. Very much occupied. So without thinking twice you picked up your feet and go anywhere your instinct tells you to.

Samuel gritted his teeth, so hard he can hear they're about to chip. He been asking Jake the question over and over. Yet he won't budge and continue to give Samuel a beatdown, not that he'll complain. The fight is fucking random. But both know he got score to settle anyway.

Somewhere in the city — the park actually. Two kids — two grown men, mind you. Playing — beating the shit out of each other more precisely. A very happy wholesome sight of two brothers bonding — very much not.

Samuel grasped the chain on the swing, pulling it off from its metal screw. He charged at Jake, wrapped him with the chain. "I'm loving this! Just like old times, ey?"

Jake choked, his eyes turned white at the force of the chains as he was pulled back harshly. Samuel brought Jake back, slamming him onto the ground as the park echoes. But Jake can't lose now. He had a mission. His true purpose of beating Samuel. And it's not just about their usual beef.

Locking his legs around Samuel's neck, he pull him to the ground with him with the same force.

Jake got up on his feet, looking down at Samuel as he wiped the sweats of his face. "If I win this- egh!"

Samuel was fast to cut him off by knocking Jake off with the back of his foot, sending him back. "What was that? I couldn't hear y- agh!" Karma hit him fast when Jake tossed the whole wooden bench towards Samuel, also knocking him back but wasn't enough for him to fall.

"What the fuck?!" Samuel fumed, veins popping from his neck. "You really asking for it now, do you?"

"You didn't let me finish." Jake exhaled. "I said if I win this, I can date (Name)."

Samuel went tense at Jake's words. But he quickly recover as a sneer appeared on his face. "Is this what it's all about? For some girl. That bitch?" He pointed behind him with his thumb mockingly, his postured relaxed.

Jake narrowed his eyes, wrinkled planted on his forehead at Samuel's mockery and utter disrespect about you. Now he really prays you to do better. This won't do. Jake going to make sure you're worth loving. He went back to his stance, forming both of his first to his front. This make Samuel excited.

Back to you, out of breath looking everywhere your stupid instinct telling you to but so far you found nothing. Until you noticed at a small family of a couple holding a child somewhat in a hurry.

"Excuse me!" You jogged over to them. "Have you seen a guy? About this tall and have a handsome face?"

The husband shook his head, his face slightly distressed. "Sorry. But please keep yourself away from that park. There's two grown men fighting." He points.

Oh?

"Thank you!" You quickly scattered to the said park while your mind ponder. Two? Well it's worth investigating.

"Why do you hate (Name) so much?! She's amazing!" Jake blew another punch towards Samuel. "She cooks good food!" And another. With each punches, Samuel blocked with his bulky arms. His teeth gritted with frustration.

"You wanna know?" Samuel grins sadistically, tackling Jake to the ground and raises his face to return his own series of punches. "She's annoying, a pain in the ass. She's just a good fuck." And just like that the two was tackled into the nearest lake. Jake's eyes burn with determination. He's really going to unalive this guy.

Jake held Samuel down in the water, keeping him with his fingers digging into Samuel throat while he struggled violently for air. "I'll kill you. I'll fucking kill you!"

"Jake!!" You shouted from afar, eyes widened at the commotion. You quickly raced down to the lake to meet him and whoever he tried to drown.

The moment Jake's grip was slightly loosened, Samuel seek the opportunity to pull Jake down with him, rising panic over you. "Hey!!" You quickly jumped inside, running towards the two. But you then paused. Looking at your surroundings. You groaned and rolled your eyes. Picking up fistful of rocks and throw them at them both. "Yah! Stop! It's not even that deep, you idiots!"

Feeling the impact of hard stones, they gained your attention and stop their rackets. They both looked at each other before standing up in syncs, realising the scale of the water only above their knees.

"Sam...?" You squinted your eyes when you got a good look at Jake's opponent. Slightly surprised by the revelation but you brushed if off passed you, thinking they were having their own usual beefing routine.

You looked between the two men, soaked in their attire. "Should I even know?" You sighed. Samuel rolled his eyes, already quick to turn on his heels to leave the scene. But Jake was quicker, kicking Samuel's bottom as he fall to his front back into the water. The action even made you surprised.

"Dude!" You exclaimed, giving him a face but Jake ignored you. His eyes still on Samuel. He have yet decided to let him go until he is satisfy. "Get up. I'm not done with you."

The water boiled from Samuel's heating head with anger. He got up, "If you like her so much," swinging his fist and aim it to Jake's face. "Just take her!!"

But it never arrived. Not when you stood to block his punch from hitting your friend.

"I can't." Jake spoke firmly. "She loves you."

Samuel's face loosened slightly before lowering his fist. He fixed his posture and stand up properly. He looked at you with unreadable face to which you return with the same poker ones.

"But look who she's protecting." Samuel's eyes never leaves you. A hint of vulnerability was quickly dismissed but doesn't go unnoticed by you. You speak nothing of it.

Samuel looked back at Jake. His index finger raised to point at Jake, his jaw clenched with dissatisfaction. Yet no words were spared. His finger hanging before brushing you both off and turned on his back. The water splashed harshly as he stomped away. You and Jake watched in silence until he was out of view.

You exhaled through your nose. The tension is even more palpable. You didn't know where to start, nor you think it was your place to ask. So you let it hanging and let yourself suffer with curiosity.

Jake noticed the somber look on your face. The same look you have from the previous days. His fists clenched lightly on his sides before releasing them with defeated expression.

[constantcrisis19]

Peer Pressure - Part 1

Simon "Ghost" Riley x GN S/O

AN: I originally wanted this to be a oneshot, but the premise kinda got away from me and I ended up having to split it into two parts. Hope you enjoy reading about two stubborn idiots dancing around each other! Will their mutual pining be resolved in the next part... stick around to find out!

Word Count: 2,372

You howled with laughter as you leaned back in your seat on the couch, clutching at your aching stomach and wheezing when Soap shot you a glare that wasn’t nearly as effective as he probably would’ve liked due to how watery and bloodshot his eyes were. The Scot was seated across from you on the other couch, his body practically vibrating as he tried to breathe through the pain of chugging hot sauce straight from the bottle.

Gaz’s own pleasant laugh joined yours as Soap slammed the glass bottle down onto the coffee table between you and pushed it as far away from himself as he could manage as he coughed, the sound quickly followed by a sniffle miserable enough that you pushed yourself to your feet in order to go and grab the box of tissues that was on the table where Ghost and Price where playing cards.

“Hey, Ghost. You winning or losing?” Ghost turned his head just enough to watch you as you approached, his dark eyes still as intense as they were when lined with coal despite the fact that the man was wearing one of his worn blaclavas as opposed to his usual skull mask, the bottom half rolled up to reveal his mouth and the lit cigarette that he had pinched between scarred lips.

“You tell me.” Ghost muttered boredly as he angled his cards in a way that allowed you to see his hand without revealing his cards to Price, who was lazily puffing on a cigar as he watched the two of you interact with an amused quirk to his mouth. 

“Hmm. I don’t know, sir.” You mused as you leaned in closer to speak directly into his ear in order to avoid being overheard by Price. “I think you might have to make your peace with the fact that you have a shit poker face without your mask.” 

You watched with barely concealed glee as Ghost’s brows furrowed in confusion for a moment before widening in shock, his mouth snapping shut and cutting off whatever –no doubt– scathing response he was gearing up to dish out when you brushed your palm over his arm and up to his shoulder, the solid muscles hidden underneath his oversized sweatshirt flexing at the teasing contact.

You flashed him a toothy smile when he didn't shrug off the touch and left your hand on his shoulder as you leaned forward in order to reach for the box of kleenex with your other hand, giving him one last friendly pat on the shoulder before pulling away and making your way back to where Gaz and Soap had devolved into throwing crude barbs at each other.

You carelessly flopped down onto the couch next to Soap and lazily tossed the box into his lap, the Scot pausing his petty squabbling with Gaz in favor of roughly pulling several tissues from the box before shoving the wadded up kleenex under his running nose.

“I thought ye two were about ta save us the fuckin’ misery of watchin’ ya dafties continue ta dance around each other an’ finally kiss.” Soap stated as soon as he had cleared his sinuses, the Scot leaning forward with the intent to place his disgusting tissues onto the coffee table, the movement promptly halted when you placed a hand on his chest and shoved him back into the cushions with a dirty look.

“Read one too many bodice rippers have we, Suds?” You snapped back as you pointed over to the trash can located in the tiny kitchen space like the twenty-something year old Scottsman was just a child, much to Gaz’s amusement if his barely muffled chuckles were any indication. “Wash your hands. And eat some butter while you’re over there, it’ll help with the pain.” You recommended as you released him from his seat, the Scot pushing to his feet with the used tissues in hand.

“Piss off.” Soap grumbled petulantly as he wandered away toward the kitchenette, briefly pausing his trek and tossing the tissues that he was holding into the wastebasket before continuing on to the sink. Your eyes tracked his movements as he flicked the water on and pumped a sizable dollop of soap into his hands before scrubbing rigorously.

Once he was finished with that, instead of using a paper towel like a normal person, you watched as the Scot wiped his hands off on his jeans like a heathen before moving over to the  fridge, the man bending over slightly in order to rummage through its contents, presumably for something to help with his burning throat and tongue like you’d suggested.

“You started it.” You called after him before turning your attention over to Gaz, who had a wide smile on his face as he watched you and Soap bicker like siblings. You raised a brow as you met his smug, all-knowing stare and he subtly nodded over to where Ghost and Price were sitting, the latter dealing both of them into another round of what you were pretty sure was Omaha. 

“He’s got a point you know.” Gaz said quietly and you whipped your head back around to face him so fast that something in your neck popped and went warm. “Come on, it's glaringly obvious that the two of you like each other. You already have everybody’s blessing, I say just go for it.” Gaz shrugged, his smile going from shit-eating to something softer and encouraging.

“Alright, I’m solid.” Soap declared cheerfully as he vaulted over the arm of the couch and landed onto the cushions next to you with a grunt, jostling you hard enough that you slammed into his side. Soap took advantage of your closeness and threw an arm over your shoulder in order to trap you next to him, his keen eyes darting between you and Gaz for a moment before his brows furrowed. “Did I interrupt something?”

“Nope, not at all. Let's get back to it, yeah?.” Gaz stated, the other Sergeant sounding impressively convincing as he shook his head. “Soap, it’s your turn to pick who goes next.” He said in order to redirect Soap’s suspicions by reminding him of where they left off in their game.

“So… Elf…” Soap said conversationally as he slung an arm over the backrest of the couch behind your head –his frankly ridiculous bicep flexing with the movement– as a mischievous smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You glanced at Gaz when the other man snorted, shooting him a half-hearted glare before turning your attention to Soap and leveling his faux innocent gaze with a flat, unimpressed look at his not-so-subtle attempt at revenge.

“You are so fucking petty.” You groaned as you rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to stab the Sergent when Soap merely ignored you, continuing on as if you hadn’t even spoken with all the bull-headed stubbornness of a true Scotsman.

“I dare you to convince Ghost to join our game.” Soap finished with a mischievous smile, his eyes practically twinkling with mirth as he turned his head to stare down at where he had you tucked under his arm.

“First of all, you didn’t give me the chance to pick between truth or dare.” You stated while reaching up over your head in order to take his arm and move it away from you. “And secondly, seriously? I have more of a chance growing gills and living out the rest of my days in the ocean than getting Ghost to agree to play fucking Truth or Dare.” You scoffed, the very idea of Ghost engaging in such a childish activity was ludicrous, and Soap shifted on the couch until he could turn his body to face you head on.

“Not up to the challenge then? That’s alright.” Soap shrugged agreeably and you felt your eye twitch, your expression twisting into a scowl as Soap leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs and getting comfortable. “We can just consider your turn over on account of you being a lily-livered milksop and you can do my laundry for me for the next-”

“Shut the fuck up. I’m not pussying out, I’m just saying that if it comes to blows, I’m sending him your way.” You snarled, cutting off Soap’s tirade as you abruptly pushed to your feet and stalked away from the two snickering shitheads still occupying the couch and armchair respectfully.

“Fair ‘nough.” Soap called after you, the smile obvious in his voice, and you didn’t bother giving a verbal response, merely settling for flicking him off over your shoulder without bothering to turn around. 

You shook your head with a reluctant smile when the cackling behind you grew louder with the gesture, your determined march slowing some as you approached the table for a second time, Price and Ghost right where you’d left them, only this time Price was puffing on a cigar and the two were locked in the midst of a new game.

“Price, sir, I need to borrow Ghost for a bit.” You said, shamelessly interrupting the two as you brought your hands behind your back, your left hand gripping your right wrist in a lazy mimicry of parade rest. Price looked up from his cards, raising a single brow at you from under his stupid hat before he reached up with his free hand in order to pull the cigar away from his mouth in preparation to speak, but Ghost beat him to it.

“What for?” Ghost asked, reaching out to take the cigar when Price offered it to him. You tried and failed not to stare as Simon rolled up his mask until it was bunched up over the bridge of his nose before taking a puff and slowly letting the smoke trickle out from between his full lips.

“Need a fourth player.” You said after clearing your throat and shifting your weight from foot to foot, fighting the blush that wanted to brighten your cheeks when Ghost's eyes lazily slid down your body to stare at your scuffed up boots at the restless movement before the corner of his lips quirked up into a smug smile.

“Seemed to be doing just fine without me.” Ghost said, his tone giving away none of his obvious amusement –as if he'd forgotten that his mask wasn't hiding his face from view– and you shifted position in order to cross your arms over your chest as you breathed a deep sigh of defeat.

“Well, looks like I owe Soap a favor then since I couldn't complete my turn.” You mused solemnly as your previously confident expression melted into one of faux resignation, and you had to resist the nearly overwhelming impulse to give up the charade and laugh when you saw Ghost visibly perk up at your statement, his sudden interest in the proceedings obvious enough that even Price cracked a smile at his expense.

“That so?” Ghost drawled with a disinterested tone, completely contradicting the intense way that he was watching you, his keen eyes searching and serious as you spoke.

“Yeah.” You said, drawing out the word as you frowned, forcing your gaze away from Ghost’s in favor of staring at the wall just behind his broad shoulder. “And you know how much of a flirt he is, I can only imagine what he might choose as his prize.” You said suggestively, silently reveling in the way Ghost’s dark eyes narrowed at the implications behind your words, the man carefully setting his cards face down onto the table.

You resisted the urge to grin or pump your fist in victory at Ghost taking the bait, aware of how intently the man was watching you, and instead settled for staring back, careful not to give anything away cause while you knew that you would most likely only end up doing Soap’s laundry like he’d said, Ghost didn’t know that, and you could use that to your advantage.

“S’pose I could use a break from cards.” Ghost finally said before he rose from his seat, some of your triumphant smugness dissipating once the Lieutenant stood in front of you at his full height, his imposing stature causing him to loom over you somewhat threateningly.

“That's great, Lt. You're really doing me a solid by…” You trailed off mid sentence, planting your feet and swallowing against the growing urge to back away as Ghost slowly approached until he was standing in front of you with only inches of space left between the two of you, the man using his full height in order to loom over you in a way that usually had recruits wetting themselves in fear.

“Can’t leave you to suffer Johnny's depraved whims.” Ghost murmured softly as he leaned down into your personal space, the hot breaths fanning out over your face smelling of tobacco and mint. You swallowed audibly as you realized how close his face was to yours –your lips mere centimeters from touching–and you flushed with embarrassment at the turn your inner musings had taken when Ghost pulled back, allowing you to catch sight of his teasing smile before he rolled his mask back down over his face.

You were frozen in place for a few moments, Ghost moving past you in order to make his way over to the sitting area where Soap and Gaz were impatiently waiting for you to return, before you were able to shake yourself out of your daze and glare daggers at Ghost’s wide back.

“My hero.” You muttered under your breath before releasing a deep, long-suffering sigh, only bothering to pry your furious gaze from Ghost when you heard Price snort from where he was still seated at the table. You reluctantly turned to meet Price’s neutral gaze, rolling your eyes in exasperation when the man lifted a single brow, his smile the same one he wore when he knew something someone else didn’t. 

You shot him an irritable scowl and flicked him off, ignoring the sharp bark of laughter that your childish antics earned you in favor of pivoting around on your heel in order to follow after Ghost without a word, quickening your step until you caught up to the Lieutenant.

Prompt: Truth or Dare

[1dmonthlyficroundup]

— 1D Monthly Fic Roundup —

Hi, and welcome to the 1D Monthly Fic Roundup for October 2024! Below you’ll find 1D fics that were all published this month. We hope you’ll check out these new fics! If you would like to submit your own fic, please check this post on how to submit or visit our blog @1dmonthlyficroundup​. You can find all our other posts here.

Happy reading!

＊ Impactful by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou [T, 2k, Louis/Harry]

Having “packs” sort of belonged to the past, but it wasn’t entirely unheard of to move in with a bunch of friends as adults. It was practical in many ways: there would almost always be somebody home to receive packages, they could divvy up the house work and share living costs, they would always have friends around and if any of them had children, their aunties and uncles could look after them!

So. It wasn’t unheard of. But it was definitely a thing they would be called hippies for. In fact, almost all of them had already been called hippies and weirdos for it.

＊ Travel Blog Entry #28 by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou [G, 89 words, Harry/Louis]

Harry and Louis return home from a holiday. The last post on their travel blog is this poem.

＊ Hold Me Like A Grudge by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou [G, 890 words, Louis/Harry]

You can press your lips to someone’s skin and know this is the last time.

＊ And Now I'm Falling For You by @enchantedlandcoffee [T, 711 words, Harry/Louis]

“What did you do?!” Louis exclaimed as he waded out of the water, Harry hot on his heels. “I tried to save you! You know, this is the part where you tell me I’m your hero, and then you-” “And then I what, Styles? Shower you with kisses? Get a freaking grip, Harry. We’re not in one of your ‘old-school musicals’ with cheesy background music and full on choreographed dancing! This is reality and you just ruined my chances of riding one of the biggest waves the town had ever seen!” “Well, I’m sorry for not wanting to watch my best friend drown because he was too stubborn to admit that the bloody sea was too dangerous for him to surf in.” “That’s not what was happening and you know it.”

OR Snapshots of A Teen Beach Movie Larry AU with a twist

＊ I regret you all the time by @disgruntledkittenface [E, 3k, Louis/William Prince of Wales]

Louis’ friends don’t understand, and they wouldn’t even if he explained. But every time William texts, Louis drops everything to go see him.

＊ I'm the Big Fish by @lululawrence [NR, 5k, Louis/Pedro Pascal]

Pedro laughed with the man in front of him who… oh god. Was that Oscar Isaac? Louis wasn’t going to survive if he was left in this room with those two for long. He should probably make his exit, except then Pedro started doing some sort of freestyle it looked like while Oscar cheered him on. Louis couldn’t help but chuckle and was trying to hide his smile as he watched on when Pedro turned and looked directly at Louis, freezing when he did so.

After an awkward moment at a party he wasn't actually invited to, Louis keeps running into the incredibly attractive Pedro Pascal. Somehow, it's Pedro who manages to keep making a fool of himself, causing Louis to grow increasingly more confused at his behavior while also feeling more drawn to him. Maybe someday they'll be able to manage a moment that doesn't end in one of them feeling the need to run from the room in order to escape the other.

＊ Glammer, Top Hats, Cigars and Suits by @rockstarlwt28 [NR, 3k, Louis/Dominic Harrison | Yungblud]

Based in the 1920s - Alternate Universe.

When Isla found a love for the melody formed by a strumming of strings, Louis didn't expect to fall equally in love with his daughter’s guitar teacher, Dominic Harrison.

＊ Bouncing off the Wall by @signofcomfort [G, 34k, Louis/Harry]

Harry Styles is Louis' self-declared enemy, but it doesn't help that they are neighbours and their families are friends.

＊ Spirits by itsraininginengland / @ilovellama14 [E, 4k, Louis/Oscar Isaac]

A one shot set in and Edwardian music hall. Prompt from and written for the Louis rarepair fest. This was a challenge and a pleasure to write.

Edwardian music hall performer Louis Tomlinson meets the newest act in the show, the American magician Oscar Isaac. Romance, smut and a seance ensue. Also featuring best friend wing man Harry Styles.

＊ That's Happiness To Me by @louislittletomlintum [E, 24k, Zayn/Liam/Louis]

“Seems we’ve got a little conundrum on our hands,” Louis murmured into Zayn’s ear, feeling his hands settle back on his waist and pressing a little closer.

“Mm. Seems we do,” Zayn responded, and Louis liked to think his voice was at least a bit intrigued.

Louis’ mind was whirring. He’d wanted to try and get with Liam tonight, but now a new, better idea was forming. Getting Liam with Zayn, if possible, would be something of a dream come true. It would maybe blow Liam’s tiny brain, but sometimes you had to make sacrifices for good things to happen.

“Do you wanna try pull him together?” Louis asked Zayn curiously, grinning against his skin when he felt his hands grip tighter.

＊ It’s a Craving Not a Crush by LetTheMusicMoveYou / @letthemusicmoveyou28 [E, 9k, Liam/Louis]

All around him, his coworkers have started pulling out their chosen lunches. And Liam does the same, reaching down to the backpack at his feet and pulling out the Tupperware of leftover spaghetti he’d packed this morning.

When he sets it on the table he notices a little neon pink post it note on the lid that he didn’t remember being there before. Written on the note in messy scrawl it says: Have a wonderful day husband! Can’t wait to suck you off when you get home!! XOXO -Lou.

Liam feels his face go bright red again as he hastily rips off the note and crumples it in his fist. He glances around the table, but thankfully no one seems to be paying him any attention. They’re all wrapped up in their own food items or listening to whatever their boss is talking about.

(Or the one where Liam and Louis are best bros who end up getting married so that Liam has the insurance he needs to go to rehab. Now that he’s sober, they can get divorced. But do they want to?)

- Fic Fests -

＊ 1D Alpha Louis Fest / @1dalphalouisfest / Masterpost

Fics that involve Alpha Louis Tomlinson

＊ 1D Flower Fest / @1d-flower-fest / Masterpost

A fest dedicated to inspiring fics and artwork about flowers in the 1D fandom.

[kyraisdead]

Secondo x Reader - Merry Christmas (MENTIONS OF NSFW)

"We have enough fat guys in red in this place, agnellino. We don't need to lure in any more." The light jab at Copia wasn't lost on you, but you brushed it off as you gently tugged on his sleeve, silently asking him again. In response, he groaned.

Secondo was a phenomenal cook. A cook, not a baker. He'd whip up classic Italian dishes in less than an hour and still manage to make them taste like something out of a 5-star restaurant. The only thing he baked was bread because the bagged and frozen garbage at the grocery store tasted like sand. (According to him, at least. You still snuck the frozen Texas Toast into the Ministry now and then as a snack.)

"Will it shut you up?" he asked, grabbing your face in his hand and smushing your cheeks together until you were forced into doing duck-lips. Despite his harsh words, there was no malice in his tone. Only begrudging affection. When you nodded, he released you, allowing you to follow him into the fancy kitchen of his chambers.

"Get me the flour from the cabinet, if you can reach it. All-purpose, not the bread flour," he specified quickly. Last time, you'd accidentally handed him cake flour. It resulted in quite the mess. You took your time as he got a few bowls from underneath the sink, arranging them on the marble countertop.

He turned around, watching you carefully with mismatched eyes, like marbles stolen from a child's jar. "Well?" he asked, crossing his arms, black sleeves rolled up as he waited expectantly.

"Coming, Papa," you said quickly. Although you'd been dating for some time, it still felt improper to call him just Secondo. It was always Papa instead.

Despite your hesitance towards informalities, it didn't stop you from admiring his arms as you handed him the heavy bag of flour. As far as you were concerned, the most attractive thing a man could do was to roll his sleeves up to show off him forearms. Sometimes he thought you'd rather him keep his shirt on like that in the bedroom.

"Pre-sifted, unbleached," you read the label on the bag as unraveled the rolled top, standing on your toes to place your chin on his shoulder. "I've only used it for white gravy, or to bread chicken. Why does it matter?" You were certain you were about to spring him into a four-page rant about the different types of flours down to the grain used to produce them, but to your surprise, he kept his explanation short.

"It means you're buying proper flour. Not that cheap, bleached stuff from the grocery store." He ruffled your hair and patted you on the head, a smirk slowly forming on his lips.

He began measuring out the exact amount of flour that the recipe called for, pausing every few seconds to weigh it on his kitchen scale. "This is my kitchen. I need to make sure you're not poisoning me, agnellino." His arm curled around your shoulders, tugging you against his side.

"So, low quality flour is poison... but chain-smoking cigars with a glass of wine in the other hand isn't?" you ask him, pressing your cheek against his chest as he pulled you closer. He chuckled gruffly underneath his breath, the faint rumble sending a shiver through your body. His chest pressed against your ear, muffling all sound until all you could hear was the faint beating of his heart.

"I think the cigars cancel it out. Two wrongs make a right, dear," he responded, a smirk on his lips. Taking your hand, he brought it up to his mouth and nipped on the tips of your fingertips, his mustache scratching your palm. He'd grown it out a little bit, no longer required to don his paints all the time. "It's too quiet in here. Put some music on."

You were about to protest, to point out that no, alcohol did not cancel out tobacco, but he was truly the master of changing the subject before you could scold him for anything. Secondo, for all of his good intentions, was a stubborn old thing that never listened to reason. He knew that his cigars were going to be the death of him, but that same knowledge somehow never managed to stop him from lighting a fresh one.

You frowned slightly, lightly flicking the tip of his nose before walking over to the old 1960's record player he kept. In his chambers, if it wasn't at least 20 years old, he had no interest in keeping it.

"Can I pick the record?" you asked politely, shuffling through the old box of vinyl.

"No, bella," he said, shaking his head. "I don't trust those terrible tastes of yours. You'll turn on the ABBA again."

"Insulting ABBA is like insulting Swedish Dolly Parton," you said under your breath, noticing the hint of confusion on his face before you just waved your hand, dismissing what you said before he could question it. "I'm not putting on Frank Sinatra. That record is going to snap in half the next time you use it."

"Frank Sinatra and The Supremes are musical legends, I'll have you know," he said, pressing the forming dough a little harder with his hands. If he had the nerve, he'd throw you out of the room on your ass. Unfortunately, though, he found your ass too cute for that.

After a few minutes more of digging, he huffed like a petulant child, shaking his head. "Just put anything on. But I swear, if I hear the song Waterloo one more time-"

I really can't stay...

Baby, it's cold outside...

The sweet sound of the soft tune caught him off guard, silencing him abruptly and softening the hard lines at the corners of his seemingly permanently downturned mouth. He lifted his head again, hands becoming gentle as he carefully greased a baking sheet.

You smiled, slipping away from the record player and back to your original spot behind him, arms snaking around his waist as you squeezed him firmly.

He grumbled something under his breath, pausing in his work to glance down at your small hands hugging tightly around his middle, pressing yourself against his back as though you were a parasite, leeching heat from him like a damn lamprey.

He grunted quietly and continued kneading the dough, careful not to dig his fingers in too hard. He'd accidentally made that mistake before, leaving a permanent print in the dough when pressing his fingers into a shaped cookie. Primo had laughed his ass off, more at Secondo's frustration than anything.

He sighed and leaned back against you, resting the back of his head on top of yours. "What are you doing back there, tesoro?"

"Convincing you to dance with me," you responded, slowly swaying from side to side, your breath cool on his skin, a stark difference from the heated air of the room, additional warmth emanating from the preheating oven. You pressed a soft kiss to the back of his neck. "Is it working?"

He hummed like an old machine, turning until his nose was buried in the crook of your neck, breathing against your skin. He nipped on the sensitive skin just beneath your ear, feeling your body shudder against him.

"It's working a little," he admitted after a few seconds, wrapping his hands around your hips and pulling you snugly against him. "Keep going."

You held him a little tighter, continuing the soft sway. It wasn't often that Secondo was this soft with you--- even when he was soft, he wasn't entirely too sweet. Pacified was a better word. Content.

You led him for a moment before he seemed to remember he did in fact exist. He shifted his hand to sit just above your bum, supporting your lower back while his other intertwined with yours.

His movements were graceful, gentle, and slow, the way one would expect a man with the title of 'Papa' would move. He pulled you effortlessly around the kitchen, guiding you through the space like you were made of glass. He knew you were strong, but it didn't stop him from wanting to take care of you.

He dipped you gently under the dim lights of the kitchen, a slight smile spreading across his lips. "What would you do if I picked you up right now, hm?" he asked, his lips brushing against your ear once more. "Take you upstairs, into my bed, where it's all nice and warm... never let you go." His smile turned into a grin as he brought you back up, already bending at the knee to fulfill his suggestion. *Ding!* The sound of the oven's little song-like chime snapped him out of his focus, alerting him that no, he shouldn't leave balls of raw egg on the counter to collect dust and E-Coli. He groaned, as he stood back up, pressing his face into the front of your top, a kiddish expression of his frustration.

"Cookies first," you told him, gently caressing his head with soft fingers. The man was a fiend, but he never failed to make you smile. "What comes after is your decision." He lifted his head again before tilting it to the side, giving you a grain before his arms went under your ass, hoisting you up suddenly and placing you on the counter, standing between your legs as he kissed you suddenly.

Despite your initial focus on the cookies, it was hard to say no to him. He breathed like an old dog, pressing firm, quick kisses against your mouth after that first long one, before he suddenly pulled away, returning to the stove. "Secondo!" you said breathlessly. Secondo, not Papa. The sound of his name from your lips made him smile. "Cookies first, agnellino," he reminded you with a smile. "But we can do something else after, if you want to?" Bastard.

[trixter-god]

Classical Conditioning

Paring: Bruce Wayne x Logan Howllet

Summery: Logan and Bruce play a game of cat and mouse or is Bat and Wolverine?

Warning/tags: smut, 18+, one shot, mlm, gay, old man yaoi, cursing/profanity, jealousy, crack ship, self indulgent, oral (male receiving), I gave Bruce normal friends

Chapters: 1/1 (completed)

Words: 4572

An: Merry Christmas and happy holidays you filthy animals. Everyone thank MCR for keeping me up long to finish this lmao.

How did he even end up in this situation? That question had become a staple in Logan's everyday life as of late. It certainly didn’t help that he somehow found a home in the worst city on the east coast. Gotham city for all its mysteries and ever rising crime rates was at its core just some shitty new jersey city. Yet only this one kept Logan coming back like he was out of cigar’s needing a nicotine fix. He’d normally blame his old age for making him circle back to old haunts wondering if anything he remembered stayed the same but he’d also be stupid to admit he was sticking around for merely nostalgic reasons. He could still hear Scott’s laugh ringing in his ears thinking about the call he made what felt like forever ago telling Scott he was staying in this hellhole for a bit longer than originally planned only to find increasingly dumber excuses to not head back upstate. No he was here because he somehow found someone who understood him before they even said two words to each other. Someone that he could relate to without having to hide the darker parts of himself. A fact that still made Logan uncomfortable if he thought too hard about it but luckily his thoughts don’t normally linger. Plus he hasn’t made a run for it yet so he assumed this was going well. Logan would never say it out loud because it would make him sound like one of Rouge’s shitty romance novels but he was stuck in Gotham because of a man. A paranoid, stubborn, hypocritical, annoyingly charming, and very pretty man.

Which is why Logan was now sitting at the bar of some overpacked, overpriced club he swore he wasn’t gonna be at. With a dark whisky in one hand and his other digging into the meat of his thigh so as not to leave dents in the dark wood in front of him. The deep crease in his brow and the almost permanent frown on his lips gave out the obvious signs he didn’t want to be here. Though that didn’t stop the occasional drunk girl who was dared by her equally drunk friends to talk to him. Thankfully they were easily shooed away with a raised eyebrow or a firm no to their advances. Not like he wouldn’t be interested if it was any other night he just had a very specific itch he needed to scratch that only could only be done by the only other person in this room who probably had every exit mapped out in his head just in case. He was just about to ask for a new drink when that fucking addictive smell hits him again. Leather, citrus, pine, something else that Logan didn’t know but made the crease in his brow deepen. Sharp brown eyes cut through the crowd of drunks to the vip lounge where sat the reason why Logan was sitting in a hard ass barstool in increasingly uncomfortable jeans.

Bruce Wayne.

Orphan, playboy, millionaire, pain in his ass, and dressed like the fucking Holster store mannequin he was. Sleeves rolled to the elbow accentuating his arms in that dark blue practically see through button down which was unbutton to an outrageous degree. Bruce’s synthetic second skin worked overtime to cover up the miles of scarred and torn flesh that only Logan had memorized like the back of his own hands. Giving anyone with a pair of eyes the view of his tone physique. All tucked into those fucking pants.

Where the fuck did those even come from? Logan wasn’t one for keeping close attention to someone’s fashion choices but he would have definitely remembered tearing those in two. black slacks made from some expensive fabric just tight enough to accentuate what Bruce woke up at unholy hours of the morning to train for. If the place wasn't packed in like sardines Logan would have dragged Gotham’s sworn protector by his perfectly disheveled hair back home to that obnoxiously big bed of his. Finally get to sink his canines into that teasing smell that has been following him the whole night. Just a hint of that disgusting concoction of scents it was over. Logan was hot wired to it like the good hunting dog he was and he wasn’t leaving without his prey. Yet why did it feel like he was the one being hunted?

Bruce was barely listening to whatever the story was being told to the table. He’s been barely participating since that pissed off Canadian took a seat at the bar. Giving a nod or a laugh when it was appropriate but studying the way Logan’s shoulders would tighten when the air vent perfectly positioned above his head would turn on in ten minute cycles knowing with that enhanced sense of smell that Lo possesses could pick him out even in a room full of sweat and alcohol. Bruce normally hated the feeling of being quietly tracked but it was different when he was asking for it. That rush of adrenaline he’d been normally numb too thanks to his nightly escapades now crawled over his skin. The bat did have a reputation of killing the mood. He just wasn't aware how much it had bleed into his personal life. That was probably why Bruce has gotten increasingly attracted to danger over the years and what's more dangerous than willingly being stalked by an apex predator.

It was a simple case of classical conditioning, something that Bruce found increasingly more entertaining even if it was an accident. Who would have known Logan's mutant genes made him more susceptible to being easily persuaded by just a bit of cologne. Now Bruce knows he isn’t absolutely innocent that his instinctually inclined friend seemed to want to jump his bones the moment he got even a single inkling that Bruce was gonna touch that bottle that sat in the back of his bathroom cabinet let alone wear it out anywhere. Sure it was “brucie’s” signature scent and maybe it's the only strong cologne he wears in general but he did have no intention of turning Logan into a Pavlo’s dog experiment. Happy accidents and all that.

A hard glare was shot his way after only five minutes of Logan pretending he wasn’t sitting roughly 13.65 feet away. Not that Bruce cared all that much, Logan can stew at the bar for as long as he wants. He doesn't assume that that will be much longer, coinciding Logan's right hand having been firmly drugged into the thigh of his well-worn jeans for an hour now. Not to mention that prominent vein just peeking out of the collar of his flannel. Wonder how long it would take before Bruce finally got to see it pop.

Now Bruce did ask if he wanted to come out with him tonight. Maybe finally meet the few people he considers his normal friends but no. Logan said he was quite content staying home watching tv and loosely keeping an eye on the kids while Batman was off duty for the evening. Which Bruce was fine with even if he did intentionally rummage in the “what happens in boring school stays in boarding school” section of his closet. Squeezing his now built frame into pants that used to be baggy on him. Getting an ego boost that he could in fact still fit in them yet increasingly more humbled as he struggled to button them for longer than he’d say aloud.

Bruce’s calculated thoughts were broken up by a soft hand against his chest bringing him back to the party he was supposed to be participating in. The semimonthly gathering of his old college friends. Michael, Ben, both his college roommate at Gotham Academy for the five months of pre-med he took before realizing there was no fun in being his father. Michael’s wife Michelle who hasn’t looked up from her phone since they arrived, and Nicole, an old fling of his, highly intelligent woman, sat pressed against his side batting her heavy lidded eyes at him innocently as if her stiletto nails hadn't been not so subtly tracing any portion of his exposed skin all night. He gave a smile that wasn’t meant for her catching the sudden hard scrape of a bar stool from the other side of the room.

Logan can’t tell what’s pissing him off more, the shitty DJ that doesn’t believe in too much base, the cheap ass whiskey he was forcing down that was more bite than burn or the way those famous steel blue eyes catch his glare just long enough to tell him what he already knows. He’s being played like a goddamn fiddle. Actually it was probably that pretty little blonde who’d been hanging off HIS billion dollar baby the whole night. Sitting so close she was practically in Bruce’s lap.

The blonde makes a bold move which makes the glass in Logan’s hand threaten to crack under his grip. Her hand slipped down the front of that deep navy button up, ghosting over the very open front of Bruce’s shirt to get a feel of what Logan’s knows first hand is well trained muscle. Logan bites back the growl that wanted to crawl out of his throat when Bruce— no not Bruce. Brucie cracked a shit eating grin at the bold blonde. Well truly it was a gentle charming smile but Logan knew fucking better.

He should’ve been embarrassed of how fast he succumbed, It was probably a new record honestly, if his brain wasn’t busy imagining the way he wanted to become front page news for Vale’s gossip blog. He could see the headlines now. “Bruce Wayne bent over in front of the crowd” maybe she’d make some shitty pun that he’d have no choice but send it to Wade, that's if that loud mouth wouldn’t already be blowing up his phone with those fucking emoticons that somehow mean something suggestive. Why did he even mention that walking ball of cocaine and cancer? He’s not even here and yet the mere thought killed his very small buzz. Logan rubbing his face before downing the rest of his whisky hoping it would keep him satisfied for now. He had a point to prove. A point he didn’t know but peeled himself out of his favorite recliner to follow Gotham’s Prince downtown to some shit club anyway. Logan gave his head a shake before getting back up, keeping his back to temptation to go sneak a smoke outside.

Bruce gave a pout watching Logan head out the front and not towards him. Looks like Wolverine is finally getting used to his tricks. Bruce noted that for next time already thinking of the needed adjustments.

“What’s wrong Bruce? Is Michael boring you as bad as he is me?” Ben’s voice cut through his thoughts making his pout turn into an awkward smile. Bruce couldn’t even think of an excuse before Michael’s heavy old Gotham accent butted in.

“Oh piss off benny boy, everyone loves my stories.”

“They love your stories all right. Everyone at this table knows that after you took that fist to the face Kevin had to pull you out.” Ben crossed his arms leaning back into his chair. His signature smirk landed on his lips.

“Tomatoes, tomatoes. So I took the first hit. It doesn't matter who actually finished the guy off, we all won.” Micheal tried to wave Ben’s comments off.

“If I remember correctly we all got detention for a month.” Bruce finally found his footing picking up his barely touched glass of champagne. Giving the glass a small swirl in his fingers just keeping busy. “Not to mention you got a concussion.”

“Yeah, but we won. Which reminds me of another story.” Micheal retells some story about his football years. Snapping at the young waitress who was checking another table. Earning him a solid hit in the shoulder by his wife, Michelle, making Ben let out a snort.

“Eyes in the back of her head.” came a much softer voice to his left. Nicole made her quiet presence known with a hand on this thigh looking out in the direction Logan disappeared from. She rested her chin in her hand giving him a knowing glance.

“Who’s the cowboy?” She asked, amused.

Bruce gives her his best shifty eyed confused expression as he made sure no one else was listening. Luckily Ben was too focused on correcting everything that’s coming out of Micheal’s mouth and Michael is just trying to yell over him that they don’t notice. Michell never looked up from her phone.

“What?” Bruce breathed out pretending to be flustered in confusion.

She only narrows her eyes looking him up and down. The woman used to be an analyst; she could smell tension before she knew there was tension. Dangerous skill to have so close to you, one he had even closer at one point in the past. He Should have known better than to date a physiatrist but you live and you learn.

Nichole drums her well kept nails on the top of the table. “Oh please, you’ve been pining all night.” She lowered her voice taking a long sip of her martini.

“He’s a good catch, how’d you get him?”

Bruce chuckled, his eyes couldn’t help but drift over to Logan’s now empty seat at the bar. How did he do it? Bruce remembers how it started, a rather intense argument over something he couldn’t remember that turned into an event that The Hall of Justice had seen before. Yes, those tapes were deleted and yes, it did end up happening again. Far too many times until it evolved into whatever it was now. Too serious to be a fling yet they were far too old to be boyfriends. Maybe partners was the correct word even if it made Bruce feel very old. He didn’t like to linger on a title and Logan ever cared to name it.

“Just picked him up one day, haven’t let him go yet.” He shrugged at the blonde. “I have a problem with picking up strays.” That earned him a small chuckle even though he was serious.

“I understand that.” Nicole tipped her glass to him and he in turn did the same. The soft clink seemed to echo between them.

・・・・・

The night air in Gotham was always cold. Something Logan found oddly comforting about the city. The end of his cigar bloomed in the darkness of the alley as the music from the club thumped quietly through the wall behind his head. He rolled his shoulders back hearing a rare pop from his spine. The tension in his neck released, making a string of repetitive words tumble out of his mouth on instinct. “I'm too old for this.”

He debates with himself again, that urge to leave, another to just throw his patience out the window. Logan watched the smoke disappear from his lips into the dark night around him as the sound of rusty hinges echoed in alleyways. His nose twitched. Leather, citrus, and pine. A dangerous combination and yet he didn’t make a single effort to leave. The sound of expertly polished shoes echoed in the small alley until that smell turned into heat by his side. Logan picked up his head to look over at his… at Bruce. Bruce didn’t return the gesture instead staring off at the door he just snuck out from. How he managed to get away from a crowd without worry was something only he could pull off. The tension was softer than it was inside.

“Does this mean i win?” His voice was rougher than intended as he talked around the cigar on his lips. Logan mentally thanked the cold for that as he took one last puff before snuffing out his cigar against that palm of his hand. That burn was welcomed as the action made the heat beside him scoff. “Got something to say princess or you just gonna play mute?’

Bruce hummed softly in response. If Logan didn’t have such good hearing he would have missed that almost mocking sound. “Thought you didn’t want to come out tonight.” Bruce’s words teased him just an octave higher than normal. That pretty boy persona got harder and harder to slip from when he was being smug. Logan could knock his perfect teeth out right now and not feel bad.

“Changed my mind.” Logan shrugged, pocketing his cigar in for later. “Not that i had much choice” he gave the taller man a well deserved once over. The glow of the moon above mixed with the club’s neon casted the dark knight in a familiar way. It was honestly unfair that one man could look good no matter if he was pretending to be an urban legend or slumping with the first class. Now closer Logan could see that Bruce decided to wear his earrings for the first time in who knows how long. Little black studs glistened in the low light. And was he wearing eyeliner? It was smudged to an unrecognizable degree but it was there. Detailed oriented his bat was, which only solidified that he was set up from the start. Logan ran his tongue against the inside of his cheek as a poor attempted to silence himself but since when has that ever worked. Logan unconsciously leaned closer, his senses burned. “Can't have you walking around like a cheap whore, bub”

The smallest of smirks formed across Bruce’s lips as his eyes dropped to watch that vein in Logan's neck finally pop. Letting out a rare chuckle as he pulled his gaze away shaking his head. “Please, I'm anything but cheap Lo.”

His nickname felt like velvet in winter as it rattled around in the night. It was the same unoriginal name he’s had for years but it alway sounded different from him. It sounded right. If he wasn’t already so stupidly obsessed with that man next to him. Bruce would have caught him off guard just enough to shut him up.

“So you’re a rich whore?” Logan didn’t miss a beat with his comeback as they somehow got even closer.

“Why? Want one?” Bruce countered with a skilled practice. It was instinctual, the joking comment slipped from his lips like a bullet in the chamber even as the shot rang out it left a heavy weight behind.

There was a stand still then, as they stared silently at each other. The sting was pulled so thin between them it didn’t take much for the snap. This time it was Bruce’s callused hands making their way into Logan's hair pulling him into a heated kiss which pulled a deep growl from the other as thick fingers dug into the artificially perfect skin he forced himself to wear in public. Teeth clacked against each other as animal instincts kicked in. Logan took advantage of his strength and pressed that intoxicating smell into the cement wall. Not caring as the noticeable smack of what had to be Bruce’s skull hit the brick. Logan’s knee slotted between Bruce's legs pressing into his harding cock. The whine that slipped his lips was like a well deceived award for having to put up with his well planned torment all night. Reasoning thrown out the window as their bodies gilded messily across each other like horny teenagers practically devouring the other until those dangerous hands tighten in Logan’s hair pulling another growl.

“Fuck, Lo.” Bruce broke the kiss, sucking in the cool night air into his lungs felt like fire. His hips not stopping in their attempts to basically hump Logan’s thigh. His already uncomfortable attire rubbed just right against his cock. Logan wasted no time to dig his canines into his throat. Biting just hard enough to leave an imprint yet he didn’t break skin. Not now anyways.

“What, bub? Ain't this what you wanted?” Logan dragged his teeth over his neck, marking over that pale expanse of his throat. “Huh? Wearing that fucking collone like you don’t know what it dose it me.” His voice was nothing but rasp. Teetering just close enough into Logan's feral territory that Bruce couldn’t help the groan that slipped his lips. “Dressing like fucking sex on legs. Do i even want to know when you got these fucking pants?” To further push his point home Logan hands cupped a fair amount of his ass through the tight fabric. Bruce bucked his hips in retaliation. The friction makes both of them hiss.

“Fucking brat.” Logan spat, grabbing a fist full of Bruce's thin shirt to force him down to his knees. The playboy silently cures his choice in fashion when he feels just how tight his pants pressed back into him. Bruce swears he can hear the stitching against his thighs screaming for help not to mention the actual crack his knees make. He cursed under his breath as hands found Logan’s waist for stability.

His eye flicked from the bulge he was now eye level with to Logan's blown wide pupils. Bruce's hands popped off that obnoxious belt buckle Logan loved to wear with a practice ease acting like he wasn’t the one on his knees. His lips dragged over dented denim making Logan choked out a curse from above. Bruce continued to mouthed Logan through his pants until he felt a hand grab a fist full of his hair tugging a pained moan out of him. Bruce popped off the button of Logan's jeans, unzipping them and pulling him free from his flannel boxers.

Logan’s cock stood proudly now free from its confines. Its reddened head weeped pre-cum from the slit. Bruce smirked, wanting to say something snarky only to look up to meet pleading brown eyes. Okay so maybe he was being too much of an ass all night. Though this was hardly the worst he could have done, still Bruce took the hint and took pity on him. His hand slowly wrapped around the thick base of Logan's cock giving him a couple good strokes. Nuzzling into his hip as he used the leverage to keep Logan from bucking into his hand as he stroked him dry. Not breaking eye contact as Logan's eyes rolled back into his head briefly just from such a touch. The friction makes Logan's head spin just enough to not to complain.

“My poor darling.” Bruce cooed as he pressed a few kisses at the base. Bruce shifted on his knee to straddle Logan's boot so that he could please his own needs.grounding his hips down against worn leather as he nipped at that prominent vein down Logan’s hip, up the underside of his cock.

“Shut up” Logan spat out when Bruce”s tongue flicked the head of his cock before trailing back down the underside only for his hand to replace his mouth again. His hand retreated from Bruce’s hair as his claws fought to make an early appearance.

“Make me” echoed in Logan's ears as his eyes opened in surprise. He stared down at the smuggest person he’ed ever seen on their knees. Logan tried to memorize this exact moment in his very shitty memory. Bruce Wayne on his knees in an open alley, looking at him like a kid during christmas while he stroked his dick actively taunting him. No. Asking him to let go. If Logan believed in a god he'd probably be thanking him right about now.

As Logan's brian took its time to process his request Bruce took no time to wrap his lips around his throbbing cock not stopping into his nose brushed against that tufted of hair against the base. Everything about Logan was thick. His skin, his skull, his fingers but most importantly his dick as it took up most of his mouth. Bruce used his breathing skills to good use not to gag when Logan seemed to finally get the idea bucking into his throat suddenly. Logan’s hand curled back into Bruce’s hair pulling him somehow farther down his cock so he could fuck into the wet heat of his mouth.

“So good baby.” Logan muttered his praises through his teeth.

“Good fucking boy.”

Bruce’s hands dropped to finally free himself from his own pants. Moaning around Logan as he stroked himself to the same hard rhythm that was set in his throat. It didn’t take long for either of them to get close to the breaking point.

“You gonna take it baby? Huh? Be my good fucking boy and take everything i give you?” Bruce was too far lost as he moaned out his agreement. Trying to nod around Logan's brutal trust of his hips into his mouth. “Here it comes baby, here it comes.”

An inhuman noise escapes his lips as Logan’s hips halt suddenly making sure to pull Bruce all the way down around him as he releases down his throat. Bruce followed close behind, spilling out of his fist onto the ground and Logan's boot below. The two of them just stay there for a moment before Bruce finally frees himself with a cough. His lungs felt like they were on fire as he breathed in lungs full of cold air.

“Shit, you okay?” Logan tucked himself back into his pants before kneeling down to Bruce's level.

Bruce nodded between coughs waving it off. “I’m fine. Just forgot to breathe for a second.”

Logan shook his head gently pushing Bruce's now actually messy hair from his face. His eyes now soft and concerned as he gave Bruce a good once over just in case knowing Bruce isn’t one to complain about pain.

“Come here.” Logan muttered pulling Bruce gently into a soft kiss which was pleasantly returned without hesitation. The taste of himself on Bruce's lips didn’t go unmissed.

“You are the worst”

“You love me for it.” Bruce chuckled cupping his jaw, running his thumb across his cheek before pressing another quick kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, I do.” Logan got back to his feet giving Bruce a hand up as they both fixed themselves to be less disheveled. Logan takes another shameless look over Bruce hooking his fingers into one of his belt loops pulling him closer. His voice dropped an octave giving him a weak glare.

“Seriously though, were these fucking pants come from.”

“My first year of college. ” Bruce gave him a little pose looking down at his somehow still intact pants. “I didn’t make it through pre-med but I did party like I was. Honesty impressed they still fit.”

Logan hummed letting him go. “oh, they fit alright.”

Bruce gave him a slap to his arm which Logan overreacted to making Bruce crack a smile. Logan threw an arm over Bruce’s shoulder pulling him down to his height. “Wanna drink? I still have a tab open.”

“You just want me to cover the bill.” Bruce rolled his eyes leaving his grasp to pull open the metal door letting out the loud music spill out into the quiet night for the two of them.

“Promise to repay you when we get home.” Logan smirked, slapping Bruce on the ass as he headed back into the noisy club. Bruce, not too far behind, shakes his head amused as they find two empty seats at the bar.

“Yeah, yeah.”

[aimbutmiss]

Buggy sighed in frustration as he clenched another important document that he absolutely couldn't care less about as he tried to make sense of the words on it. Crocodile rolled his eyes at his "dramatic theatrics", as he put it. And while Buggy did indeed hold the sigh a bit longer than necessary, he could argue it was a very justified reaction. The words on the paper were basically alphabet soup in his brain as it completely shut down, unable to process any more information.

He rubbed his eyes as if that would somehow fix the problem. He felt closer to death with every second he spent inside the dreary office tent. The room was suffocating, filled with the smoke of Crocodile's never ending cigars. Buggy desperately needed fresh air and exposure to direct sunlight, or a poor crew member was going to find his corpse under all those papers by the end of the day.

"Croccy, it's been hours... How many more signatures do you need from me?"

Crocodile puffed out the smoke in his mouth as he spoke, making the air in the tent even heavier. Buggy had to hold himself back from coughing as he kept his eyes locked to the other man's unimpressed ones. "You're the one who insisted on reading all the documents when I already had done so. You could have just quickly signed all of them and left by now if you weren't so stubborn."

"Of course I have to read them! How can I trust you? You could be making me sign away my life to the slave trade for all I know!"

Crocodile laughed menacingly, the only way he knew how, as far as Buggy had seen. "No one would pay good money for you, clown. And if I wanted to sell you off I would have done it by now."

Buggy crossed his arms with a frown, ready to argue with his business partner, but he was cut by a low-ranking worker entering the tent reluctantly.

"I'm saved." He thought as Crocodile got up to talk to the poor man. He took the moment to sneak outside, limb by limb. As he put himself back together outside of the tent, he took the sunlight in with a sigh and cracked his back in relief. He was unfortunately too old and certainly too sexy for an office job. Being an Emperor was supposed to be more flashy than this god dammit!

He locked eyes with the shaky man as he left the tent, and gave him a reassuring smile. The man visibly relaxed, smiling wide as he bowed down before leaving Buggy's presence.

Buggy hated how much Crocodile ruled by fear. These were his men! He was responsible for their well-being and happiness! Well, he couldn't even protect his own well-being so how could he do the same for his enormous crew...

"Don't think so hard, your head will explode."

Buggy jumped in his place as Crocodile spoke in his ear. Too close! When had he snuck up on him? He was too tired to deal with this.

"I'm gonna go now."

"Not before you sign the papers."

"I'm tired..."

"Then don't read them."

"But I want to!"

"THEN GET BACK IN THERE!" Crocodile pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to keep his cool after his outburst. "Okay, you either go in willingly or I'll drag you in there myself if I have to." He moved his hook at an angle, making the light reflect off its sharp edge menacingly. And Buggy probably should have listened, but something snapped in him.

"Stop threatening me with that damn hook of yours! You know I can't get cut."

"But you can get pierced, can't you?"

Buggy gulped, sweat forming on his forehead but not daring to drop. "... You wouldn't dare."

"And why's that?"

"Because..." Buggy stared the scary man in the eyes and was somehow overcome with boldness he couldn't explain. "Because this" he gestured to his face with exaggerated motion "is what sells your shitty personality to everyone!" He was spitting out the words like venom, emphasising every word slowly. "You need me. Certainly more than I need you. You're just an overgrown accountant, but I'm a fucking Emperor. I leave, and the thousands of men under me also leave. You are nothing without me. So stop acting like you can get rid of me without consequences. I dare you to pierce me with that hook."

"..."

Buggy smiled smugly. "I'm gonna take a nap now."

He was lighter than a feather as he made his way to his tent, the smile never dropping from his face. He did it! Well, he wasn't quite free but it was certainly a step in the right direction. And sue him, he was fucking proud of himself.

As he left with his head in the clouds, he was completely unaware of the scene he left behind him. Crocodile was fuming. He felt hot with anger and another annoying, sticky emotion eating at his insides. He completely ignored Mihawk, who had been a witness to the whole conversation.

The swordsman raised a brow in question at the man's silence. "What are you gonna do now, go masturbate?"

Crocodile stared daggers at the man before turning into sand and flowing away. And he absolutely did not masturbate to thoughts about the clown. Ridiculous Hawk Eye really thought he knew everything...

(and he did.)

[cristaq]

Price slowly raises the cigar to his lips and lights it up. Even breathing seems to hurt. Before his eyes, Makarov’s hanged figure swings left and right, like the pendulum of a clock. Tick tock, how much time is left for him on this earth?

“Hey, old man…”

Behind Makarov’s corpse, Price spots Soap. Of course he would be here.

“Hey…” Price greets him with a whisper and takes another drag. Soap moves around the hanged man and sits on the ground, next to the Captain. He looks up at Makarov with a smirk.

“You stole my kill.” Soap says.

Price snickers at the comment but he immediately hisses at the sharp pain caused by it. “Someone had to finish the job.”

“Of course. It had to be you.”

Price places his other hand on Soap’s.  “I couldn’t let him get away with it…”

Soap squeezes his hand. “I would have done the same for you…”

A stubborn tear manages to escape the corner of Price’s eyes. He rests his cheek on his late lover’s shoulder. “Stay with me? Please?”

“I am not going anywhere, love. It’s over. It’s finally over…”

They sit like that for a couple of minutes, passing around the cigar. Price can hear sirens ringing somewhere far away.

“Come on now.” Soap rises with a swift motion, offering Price a helping hand. He rises too, without any difficulties, without any pain. “There are other people that can’t wait to see you! We have to get Yuri first though.” Soap winks and places a kiss on his Captain’s cheek. Hand in hand they start heading towards the exit.

When authorities arrive at the scene, Nikolai manages to infiltrate inside alongside them. He finds Price’s body resting against the wall, eyes closed and maybe it's his imagination, but the Captain seems to have a smile on his face. His skin is already a bit pale and a unfinished cigar rests discarded on the floor.

“I hope you two found each other.” He pays his respects and pushes Makarov’s body for another swing.

They did find each other. And so much more.

[layce2015]

The Boys (Soldier Boy x Female!Supe!Reader)

Chapter 4: Glorious Five Year Plan

Chapter 1 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

Present Day

*(y/n)’s POV*

"It's Solid Gold, starring Marilyn McCoo. With Solid Gold recording stars Kim Carnes, the Oak Ridge Boys, Waylan Flowers and Madame, the Solid Gold Dancers, and our first very special guest of the night, Soldier Boy!" The announcer from the show said as I sit there in my living room, watching, Bethany sitting next to me.

The camera pans down on the stage to show Ben, wearing his superhero suit including that helmet, standing on the stage as he begins to sing.

Fab Five Freddy told me everybody's fly

DJ spinning, I said, "My, my"

Flash is fast, Flash is cool

François c'est pas, Flash ain't no dude

And you don't stop, sure shot

Go out to the parking lot

And you get in your car and you drive real far

And you drive all night and then you see a light

It comes right down and lands on the ground

And out comes a man from Mars

And you try to run, but he's got a gun

And he shoots you dead, and he eats your head

And then you're in the man from Mars

You go out at night, eating cars

You eat Cadillacs, Lincolns, too...

As he sings, he did dance a bit then walked across the stage as the female back-up dancers surround him, all of them placing their hands on any part of him they could touch. And even watching this old rerun now, I still felt a bit jealous of seeing this just as I was when I was there on that show. I remember being a bit annoyed while I was standing backstage watching this from a TV screen.

"Weren't you on this episode as well?" Bethany asked me. "Yeah, I was." I muttered.

Sure enough, when Ben's song ended the camera switches to show the disco ball hanging from the ceiling as the announcer said. "And now for our second special guest, Mystic Shade!"

And the camera pans down to show me, in my superhero suit, on the stage, leaning against a tall white platform and I hold the microphone up to my lips. "Oh, there you are!" Bethany said, in a teasing manner, and I rolled my eyes.

Girls! Girls!

Watch out! Watch out!

I turn my head to look out at the crowd and I stand up, straighter.

There's a two legged animal running about

If it smokes a great big cigar

And it hangs around at a bar

If it tells the biggest lies, wears the loudest ties

It's a man

If it acts just like a crossed patch

Has a face with whiskers that scratch

If it's stubborn as can be, mean and ornery

It's a man

I watched myself saunter across the stage as I sang this old song, I raised a finger as if pointing out to the crowd before I lowered my arm, continuing to sing. "Wow, look at you go." Bethany teased and I scoff out a laugh.

It if walks, if it talks

If its habits are a little bit peculiar

If it brags and tries to make you think it's wonderful

Be on the lookout, don't let it fool ya

But if it makes the moon up on high,

More than just a light in the sky

If it kisses you and you find you like it too

GRAB IT!

It's a man

At the point I sang GRAB IT I raised my right hand up and clenched it into a fist then unclenched it and placed it on my hips as I do a bit of a dance with a smile, continuing to sing the song.

"Good God, I look so ridiculous." I muttered. "No, you don't. You're now sounding like an old woman." Bethany said, a bit of sarcasm, and I look over at her, she of course had aged a bit, wrinkles had appeared on her face and her hair was turning gray but I could still see that young girl I met back in the 70's underneath all those wrinkles.

"Well, you do realize I'm a little over a hundred years old. I think I deserve to sound like one." I said, smiling. "And yet you still look like you're in your early 30's." Bethany said and I chuckle. "Yes, bathing in virgin's blood does have its perks." I joked and we laugh.

"What? That's the secret? Why didn't you tell me?!" Bethany asked me, in a fake offended voice. "It's a curse I must bare." I said, dramatically, and we laugh and go back to watching the show as I continue to sing the song.

It if walks, if it talks

If its habits are a little bit peculiar

If it brags and tries to make you think it's wonderful

Be on the lookout, don't let it fool ya

And then one of the male backup dancers, dressed in a suit, comes up next to me and gets down on one knee.

But if it's kneelin' down on one knee

Sayin' darling please marry me

Then don't hesitate, better name the date and then

I had walked over to the man and caressed his cheek for a moment then lowered my hand to his tie as I sang the next few lines.

GRAB IT!

HOLD IT!

HANG ONTO IT! 

I grabbed the man's tie, yanked on it to make him stand up and pull him close to me. The guy looked surprised but also seemed to like it as I give him a flirty smile.

For It's a man

I belted out that last line then I pulled the man down towards me and I kissed him. I face-palmed at this while Bethany said. "Ooooohhh."

The music stops and the guy and I break the kiss and we share a smile before the camera switches to a different guest. "I'm gonna guess Ben wasn't happy about that kiss, was he?" Bethany asked me and I shake my head. "No, he wasn't." I said. "He didn't hurt you, did he?" Bethany asked me, concerned, and I shake my head as the memory of what happened after I left the stage came to mind, a smile slowly forming on my face.

"No, he didn't. He, uh...he did something else." I said and Bethany looks at me then noticed my smile. "Oh, I know that smile. Give me details!" She demanded and I shake my head. "A lady never kiss and tells." I said and we share a laugh again. We look back at the TV and my mind began to wander back to that night of the filming of this episode.

Flashback

I walked backstage after the performance and a few people smiled and congratulated me as I walk past them. Then I look over at Ben, who did not look happy. “What the fuck was that?” He asked me, angrily. “What was what?” I asked, feigning ignorance. I start to walk past him but he grabs my arm and I turn to face him.

”You know damn well what I mean.” He growls and I smirk at him. “Ease up, Soldier Boy. Jealousy is not a good look on you. Besides, it was all an act.” I said. “You sure? Because it didn’t look like an act.” He said and my smile grew. Honestly, I was having fun messing with him. “So what if it was?” I asked him then I lean into him. “What are you gonna do about it?” I asked and I see his eyes darken as he glares at me.

Most people would’ve backed down from this glare but I didn’t. Because I could see the lust and desire in his eyes, which told me I was in for it.

I let out a moan that really sounded like it could've come out of a porno as Ben shoved me up against the wall of his dressing room, thrusting roughly into me, my legs wrapped around his waist.

"Fuck, Ben!" I exclaimed. "That's right, you better say my name! Not that asshole you kissed! You are mine!" Ben growls as his thrusts become harder. I let out a strangled moan as I started to feel drunk with how good Ben was making me feel until I felt his thumb rubbing my most sensitive spot.

I cried out again as Ben said, with a low growl. "This is mine! No one else's! Say it. Say that this pussy is mine!" Then his thumb works faster and my walls clench around him even harder. "Y-Y-Yours...always....I'm..yours..." I was able to say in between gasps and moans I was letting out.

"You damn right you are!" Ben growls in my ear as he pounds into me and rubs that sensitive spot even faster and harder.

And at that moment, I shut my eyes and felt them roll back as a very powerful orgasm washes over me. "BEN!" I screamed out in ecstasy and then he growls out my name in my ear as I feel him release himself inside of me.

The both of us stilled and catch our breath until we hear a knock at the door. Both of us look towards the door, lazily, when the voice of the producer of the show calls out. "Soldier Boy, you and Mystic Shade are up in ten minutes."

"Okay, thanks. We'll be out there." Ben said and we hear the guy leave. Ben turns to look at me then gives me a soft kiss on the lips. "Looks like round two is gonna have to wait." He said as he pulls out of me. I hiss at this and set my wobbling legs on the floor before he walks over to his table that was next to us.l

"There's more?" I asked, breathlessly, as he goes to grab a towel and wipes himself clean, puts his pants back on then zips it up. "Yeah...gotta make my girl know who she belongs to." He said as he comes up to me and cleans me up as well.

"Well, in that case...I should be punishing you in round two." I said, smirking, and zipping up my pants once he finished. "How so? I didn't go kissing anybody." Ben said, tossing the towel aside. "Oh, but you did let all those girls touch you, let them run their hands all over you." I said as I sauntered over to him, my legs still feeling a bit like jelly.

I get up close to him and I grab his crotch, he tensed up at this and he let's out a small sigh through his nose. "If my pussy is yours then this dick is mine. And no one else can have it, no other woman should be touching you, understand?" I asked him and I could hear a low growl coming from him as I tightened my grip on it.

"Yes, ma'am." He said, lowly, and I give a seductive smile. "Good boy." I cooed and I kiss his cheek then let him go and go towards the door. "Where you going?" He asked me and I turn to face him. "Gotta go clean up my face and hair. Probably look like a used whore." I said and Ben looks me up and down. "More like properly fucked, in my opinion." He said, with that cheeky grin, and I rolled my eyes.

"I'll see you out there, Soldier Boy." I said, in a sultry voice. "See you later, Mystic Shade." Ben said and I walk out of the dressing room.

Present Day

I sighed a bit as Bethany pats my arm and points to the TV. "I forgot you two did a duet!" She exclaims and I look at the screen as it showed me and Ben back on stage, I must've being off on la la land in my head for awhile cause I remember our duet was at the ending of the episode.

The music intro to Endless Love began to play as Ben starts to sing first, both of us facing each other.

My love

There's only you in my life

The only thing that's right

I smiled at him as I bring my microphone up to my lips.

My first love

You're every breath that I take

You're every step I make

Then we sang together.

And I want to share

All my love with you

No one else will do

And your eyes (Your eyes, your eyes)

They tell me how much you care

Oh, yes, you will always be

My endless love

"You know, even though you told me about the crap you two went through, I still think you two made a good-looking couple. Better than him and that, what was her name? Crimson Countess?" Bethany said, thinking. "Yeah..." I muttered as I look down for a moment then back to the TV.

Two hearts

Two hearts that beat as one

Our lives have just begun

Forever

I'll hold you close in my arms

I can't resist your charms

And love

I'll be a fool for you, I'm sure

You know I don't mind

'Cause you, you mean the world to me, oh

I know

I've found in you my endless love

I felt this great wave of sadness overcome me and I get up and head to the kitchen. "(Y/n)?" Bethany called out to me as I head to the fridge. "You okay?" She asked as she follows me while I grab a beer bottle.

"Yeah, I just..." I stopped then opened the bottle and started to chug down the beer. "Hey..." Bethany said as she comes up to me and places a hand on my shoulder. "I know I should be over it but....fuck, Bethany, it's hard." I said and Bethany nods. 

"I know, I mean, I wouldn't know how I'd feel or do if Steven died. Let alone forty years after the time." Bethany said. "I know he was an asshole and a bastard but he was the only one that knew what I was going through, what I had been through. He was mostly good to me; couple of things he did, did annoy me. But I still love him." I said then she hugs me.

*3rd Person POV*

Maeve was swinging her sword around, like she was getting ready for battle. She jumps, rolls and swings the sword around until she hears a knock at the door. She opens it and sees it was Starlight. “Hi. Can we talk?” she asked. “No.” Maeve said, flatly, and she goes to shut the door but Starlight stops her. “Maeve, please.” Starlight pleads and Maeve sighs then lets her in and Starlight closes the door.

”I heard that you stopped training.” Starlight said as she noticed that Maeve had moved her furniture around where there was a large space in the middle of the room. “Yeah? You also hear that I wake up six days a week hungover, tits-deep in some random fսck pile? People think what I want them to.” Maeve said as she walks over to the kitchen island. “Okay, listen. Have you ever heard of something called B.C.L. RED?” Starlight asked her as Maeve gets a drink.

”You mean a weapon that can kill Homelander, if Butcher can find it?” Maeve asked her, knowingly. “You know?” Starlight asked, surprised, and Maeve smiles. “Who do you think sent them down the rabbit hole? Actually, I should say I had help with that but still…I brought it up to them. It's why I'm training. Or haven't had a drink in four awful, shit-eating months. Maybe I can buy Butcher a second or two to get a good shot. At the very least, I'll get a couple of licks in.” Maeve said. “Wait, so who gave you the information about this weapon?” Starlight asked and Maeve glares at her.

”Why should I tell you that?” Maeve asked her. “Well, whoever this person is, could join us. I mean, this person obviously wants to help.” Starlight said. “She only wanted to give out the information about the weapon and that’s it.” Maeve said and Starlight furrows her brow. “She?” She said but Maeve doesn’t reply.

“Okay. Okay, okay. So there's you, me and your mystery friend. Maybe we can find some others.” Starlight said. “Right. Yeah. I'm sure you and Duluth's Most Mighty would really get the job done. And I told you, my mystery friend doesn’t want any part of this. This is my problem. I'm the one who was with the asshоlе.” Maeve said.

“Maeve...you cannot do this alone. He'll kill you.” Starlight pleads and Maeve rolls her eyes. “You really care that little about yourself?” Starlight asked her. “I got it coming.” Maeve said before she walks over to her sword and starts to swish it around again.

*(y/n)’s POV*

“Okay, here is one scotch for the pretty lady.” Steven said to me as he hands me a glass of the drink. “Thanks, Steven. I said as I accepted it. I had gone over to Bethany’s and Steven’s house for the night to just have something to keep my mind occupied. Steven is Bethany’s husband for almost forty years and he always had this cheery carefree attitude, even at the age he is now.

“And, of course, for the lovely lady…bourbon!” Steven said to Bethany as she takes it. “A man after my heart.” Bethany said. “I should be the only man!” Steven chuckles and Bethany pretends to think. “Hmm, I don’t know..there is that cute young man at the coffee shop…” she said. “Well, then I better go pay him a visit, show him what happens when you try to get my girl.” He said and the two laugh and I smile and shake my head as I take a drink.

”Oh, and how are you gonna do that? Hit him with your cane?” Bethany asked him, teasingly, as she gestures to the black cane leaning against their couch. “Nah…I’ll just send (y/n) after him.” He said. “And what makes you think I’ll agree to that?” I asked him. “I’ll let you keep beating me at poker!” He said and my jaw drops.

“What do you mean by that?” I asked him. “Well, not to brag but…my superpower is that I am really good at poker. I just didn’t want to show off and let you win so you wouldn’t feel bad.” Steven said and I scoff out a laugh. “Oh, really? Well, c’mon, sonny, put your money where your mouth is!” I said and Steven claps. “Alright, grandma!” Steven teased as he goes to grab his deck of cards but then Bethany looks over at the TV.

”Whoa, whoa, wait a minute! Look!” She said and Steven and I look at the screen to see that there was a news broadcast. It said Neuman Holds FBSA Press Conference on the news banner and Neuman gets up to the podium. “Good afternoon. Thank you all for being here. I'm Congresswoman Victoria Neuman, the director of the Federal Bureau of Superhuman Affairs. For the last year, the Bureau has been working with Vought International under one guiding principle. The most powerful among us are not above the law, including the most powerful man at the company.” Neuman said then she pauses, looks to the side and takes a breath.

”Homelander...has bravely come forward as a whistleblower and provided evidence of crimes committed within Vought by CEO Stan Edgar.” Neuman said and the crowd gasps while mine, Steven’s and Bethany’s jaw drops at this. “And in the coming days, the FBSA will be investigating charges of blackmail, perjury and obstruction of justice against Mr. Edgar. Vought International must be held to the highest ethical and legal standards. The people are entitled to the truth about their heroes...” She said while Bethany and Steven share a look.

”What the hell?” Steven mutters and I furrowed my brow. “I don’t like this. Especially if Homelander is the one that gave that information to her….” I said. “Why do you hate Homelander so much?” Steven asked me. “I don’t know…there’s something…off about him. And I know how things went there at Vought…” I replied. “Plus, Homelander dated a Nazi, isn’t that bad enough?” Bethany asked.

“But he didn’t know…I mean, didn’t you know her as Liberty, (y/n)?” Steven asked me. “Not really well, course I thought something was off about her too back then.” I said and he sighs. “Look, I’m not defending him, I mean, I’m not a huge fan of the guy either but…some men make mistakes when they love a woman. I mean, it came out earlier he and Starlight are a thing now.” He said. 

Bethany hums at this while I stay quiet about this. I don’t know but I think that whole Starlight and Homelander paring is a load of crap and trying to deflect his whole thing with Stormfront.

*3rd Person POV*

Meanwhile, in Russia, Butcher, Frenchie, Kimiko, Hughie and M.M. went to infiltrate a military compound to find the weapon, thanks to Nina. Nina was Frenchie’s old associate and he got tangled back up with her was because his old girlfriend, Cherie, begged him for help to get her out.

So, for that, the boys had to a job for her then she would have her people help them get to the compound. They were able to cut the power out at the compound to make the Russian soldiers leave and they make their way inside.

“Any idea what this Supe gun is supposed to look like?” M.M. asked Butcher. “Ain't the joy in the discovery, eh?” Butcher said and they look around until they see a large metal tube. What is it?” Hughie asked as they look at it then Butcher looks over some papers nearby while Frenchie looks at this large glass case.

“Hey, there's something here. Look.” Frenchie said as he shines his light into the case where he sees a small hamster inside. “Look, look. Oh.” Frenchie said and M.M. comes up next to him to see the hamster. “Hey. What does it say?” Frenchie asked as he shines his light at the label that was written in Russian. “Says his name is Jamie.” M.M. said before he chuckles. “Jamie. Hi. Are you okay, Jamie?” Frenchie asked the hamster as he taps the glass. “No, no, no, don't fսck with it. Just leave him alone.” M.M. tells him and Frenchie chuckles.

”Aw. Jamie. Who's a handsome, petite, little gerbil?” Frenchie said as the hamster scurried around in the cage and Kimiko comes up and smiles. “It's a hamster. My daughter went through three of them.” M.M. clarifies then suddenly Jamie rapidly pounds around in the case, scaring the others. “Oh, shit! Motherfucking V'd-up hamster.” M.M. said, surprised.

At that moment, alarms start blaring. “told you not to fսck with him. Damn it.” M.M. growls at Frenchie and Butcher turns to them. “Look lively!” He shouts and every pulls out their guns and get ready for a fight.

Immediately, the Russian soldiers come in and start firing at the team and the boys all take cover and fire back at them. One soldier was able to corner Frenchie but Jamie, who had gotten out, flies up and burrows into the soldier’s eye, making him scream out in pain before falling over dead.

“Merci, Jamie.” Frenchie said as he nods to the hamster.

“I'm out!” M.M. shouts and Butcher fires his gun but he stops and looks at the others as they try to take cover. Butcher looks over at Hughie, who was hiding, then smiles at him then walks out. “Oi! Evening, cսոts.” He shouts at the soldiers and he walks out. The soldier firing at him but no damage was done to him, thanks to the Temp V.

The others watch this in shock and disbelief as Butcher uses laser eyes to take out the Russians, then he grabbed the nearest one and breaks his neck. Hughie then noticed a soldier coming up behind M.M. “M.M.!” Hughie shouts and he starts to run then teleports to the soldier and punches through the soldier.

”Oh! Oh! Oh, shit. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Uh...” Hughie grunts and pants then pulls his arm out of the soldiers body, revealing him to be completely naked. Butcher glares at Hughie, realizing that he had taken some Temp V without him knowing, and everyone stared in shock. Kimiko covers her eyes as Hughie chuckles softly. “Your dіck's out.” M.M. said, plainly, and Hughie looks down at himself then goes to grab his clothes and puts them on.

”Butcher?” M.M. asked, angrily. “All right, all right, look, hang about.” Butcher tries to defuse. “You and Hughie both took Compound V? What are you two, fսcking Supes now?” M.M. asked. “Temporary V.” Butcher said then Kimiko signs at him while Hughie picks up the busted cast he was wearing, smiling.

”Oh, she say, Why do you do this to yourself on purpose?" Frenchie translates. “Only lasts 24 hours, all right? Break glass in case of emergencies, you know, like this one.” Butcher said. “And you give this to-to Hughie?” Frenchie asked. “I didn't give it to him. The thieving git must have broken into the case and nicked it.” Butcher said as he glares over at Hughie, who looks at him then stammers.

”Let's just find this thing and get the fսck out of here, all right?” Butcher said and M.M. turns to Hughie. “You're better than this, kid.” He said and Hughie scoffs. “Butcher, I'm...Look...I'm s...I'm sorry, okay? It's just, I...” Hughie said then he laughs softly and everyone walks away from him.

Butcher walks up to the large container and he grabs at the edges of the panel and pulls it open. Smoke billows out of it and everyone steps closer to it to see there was a person inside of it. The smoke starts to clear up and they see it is a man with long hair and a beard, a breathing mask was over his mouth and nose and he was restrained inside. The man lets out a breath which is filtered through the mask and he opens his eyes to look at them, Butcher recognized the man.

“Soldier Boy.” Butcher whispered, shocked. Soldier Boy moved his arms to break the restraints off of his arms then takes off the wires then the mask and starts to walk out of the tube, naked as the day he was born. He looks around at everyone then turns as Frenchie stands in front of him. “Ah... It's okay.” He tries to assure. 

Suddenly, a bright orange glow appears in his chest then bursts out of him, Soldier Boy yells as Kimiko runs to Frenchie and pushes him out of the way as she gets hit with the blast and crashes through the wall. The glow dissipates and Soldier Boy grunts then he stumbles through the hole in the wall and walks away.

“Kimiko. It's okay. Huh? It's okay.” Frenchie said as he goes to Kimiko, but she had a barbed wire through her abdomen and she wasn’t healing like she normally does. “She's not healing. Why she's not healing? Kimiko. Why does she not heal? Kimiko. She's not healing!” Frenchie panicked and the boys gather her up and carry her to their van.

@winchestergirl1720 @deans-spinster-witch @mimaria420 @wirdbeimaufhebengebunden @kitsun369 @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld @deangirl96 @demodemo909 @cassiecasluciluce

[moxfirefly]

Oohh Bestie you've done it this time!!!

Girl you already know... our trash gremlin man of metal ⚙️ *daddy* ⚙️

"You know I'm your right? I only have eyes for you."

"I choose you, and I need you to trust that my decision is final. Trust me."

[Stake] and [Remind]

Girl. Do your magic!!

Friend you’ve got it 🫡

Rated Explicit (18+ only)

The tavern was a staple of the village. On most nights it would usually be crammed to the brim with the drunken laughter of the locals. On specific nights it was borderline empty due to it only being inhabited by one of the lords.

On this specific night you had sat down with every intention of enjoying just that.

Much to the dismay of a stubborn and foolish man.

Perhaps he’d forgotten his place? Perhaps the calm sounds of cups and bottles from the barkeep had lulled him into the tavern.

Either way, his most fatal mistake was to take the seat opposite you in a weak attempt to strike up a conversation.

“Quite nice when this place isn’t filled with the village drunk, eh?” He thought he was being coy, his smile flashing stained teeth and not so innocent intentions. “I wish it be like this more often than not. What’s such a pretty lady like you doing out this late?” His hand slid across the table, to which you smoothly retreated by placing yours in your lap.

“I believe it’s best for you to leave, sir” Your tone wasn’t malicious but you sure knew this man had about two minutes to live if he didn’t haul ass outta here.

“Leave? Well only if you leave with me, how bout it?” His grin spread across his cheeks.

You heard a door open not too far off behind you. The man turned, lifting two fingers in motion for the barkeep to pour two more drinks.

The second you felt hands on your shoulder and that cigar scent that naturally accompanied who’d just walked in, it took all your resolve not to stifle a laugh.

“Make that three, Elijah” Heisenberg’s voice was liquid smooth, a tone you’d come to enjoy greatly in your time spent with him.

The man before you quickly turned and his gaze was worth more money than you could ever fathom.

Heisenberg’s hands massaged your shoulders, the tingling they provided instantly made you shiver. The man before was caught between wanting to stand up and run or to keep perfectly still.

“My lord-“ He stammered out.

Heisenberg busied himself briefly by cupping your chin, he moved your head to look up. You were met with a handsome face, and a wolffish grin. Naturally he leaned down and whispered something to you that only made your smile spread and your cheeks tint pink.

The barkeep approached and settled the ordered drinks on the table. The man before you didn’t dare lift to grab his own and something about the way his face broke out in a sweat only served to make your grin more noticeable. Behind you Heisenberg had now began to play with your hair, he hummed before lifting a brow. “It’s rude to not drink when a lord has so humbly offered” His status had always meant jack shit to Karl but it never got old watching the villagers cower when he put his position above them. With shaky hands the man scooted close to lift the drink but the sudden notion that perhaps his drink could’ve been tampered with had him now all the more worried.

He stumbled and quickly bowed his head in shame. “My lord please if you could find it in your heart to forgive me, I was not aware that she-“ The sharp end of blade hovered in front of him. The shiny tip just close enough to have him cross eyed. All it would take would be a flick of his hand, jut out his chin, a bored movement and it would be the end for him. He held his breath, a whimper dying in the back of his throat. “Listen let me stop you there pal, as much as fucking with your peace of mind has entertained the two of us I can tell you that fucking her is a thousand times more entertaining” You felt leather finger tips on your scalp, a slightly more possessive hold. “I think he has learned his lesson Karl, as well as soiled himself” Your words fell from your lips like a honey, leaning back into his determined hold, you smiled up at him. “Take me home” And with that and a gentle shove of his hand the knife fell on the table.

As you gathered your things and Karl helped into your coat, you didn’t spare the man another glance. His tearful expression wasn’t enough to make him realize just how lucky he had gotten. While he wouldn’t admit it, you knew whatever your said would go with Karl. A simple request as being taken home would not be fought nor questioned.

The walk back had been surprisingly quiet, the cool air perhaps could’ve been reason enough. The icy winds had picked up now as night fell and much to your surprise Karl hadn’t continued his banter.

Something was very much working in his brain, and those pesky thoughts he tended to seal off would now have to be painstakingly cut open if you were you find out what exactly was running amok in his head.

At the factory, as you hung up your coat and scarf you took the second to reach for this own coat before he could. Delicate fingers brushing across the lapels of worn fabric as you slipped it off his shoulders. “You know I’m yours right? I only have eyes for you.” It was honest, scattered across the hairs on the nape of his neck. Whispered so delicately it made his skin breakout and something metallic clang against its surface. Those eyes of his sought you out, cold and calculating and too beautiful for his own good. “Is that so?” His voice felt just a tad soft, questioning the authenticity of your confession. Your lips found a scar on his throat as you moved around to stand before him, your lips tickled by the scruff of his beard as your lips found his ear. “I choose you, and I need you to trust that my decision is final…” You pressed a tender kiss to the lobe, before catching his gaze in an intimate stare. “Trust me.” Was all you needed to write the final period of your confession. There was something tortured that briefly flashed in his features, a haunting ghost that always lingered whenever the eyes of the villagers weren’t on him. You often caught it, felt that ghostly presence in the early morning hours when he would fuse his body to yours and feed the famished parts of his soul that had been neglected for so long.

Your hands cupped his face, thumbs caressing the scar on his lip as you stood on the tips of your toes to kiss him with a tenderness that broke him all over again like the first time it happened.

Naturally this led him to press you against the desk in the garage, and sit you there as he deepened the kiss and felt any ounce of doubt melt away with something so simple as your urgent words for more. Karl felt everything humanly possible surge though him as he hiked up your dress and undignified whatever garment in his way. He wanted your warmth on this cold winters evening. He craved nothing more than to swallow you whole and selfishly keep you like the diamonds found in the mines.

It was so achingly simple to slip inside of you, to feel that warmth engulf him and destroy him all at once. To say love was the word wasn’t enough, he needed something much stronger, more defined and new than love to describe how you set his soul ablaze. It was somewhere between the way your small hands untucked his shirt to feel at the scarred flesh of his back that he wanted to tell you he would keep you here forever. Because how could something so beautiful as you, equally ache and fight for him?

Your hand found his throat as he gently rocked against you, stretching you so deliciously it could make your head loll in dizzying pleasure. You gripped his throat, made his eyes open and land on your own.

‘I’m yours’ you mouthed at him, lips parted as a moan escaped you. You watched what those words did to him, made him sink deeper and harder into your heat and fuck you so slow and yet with so much meaning. His forehead pressed against your own, a groan so broken and needy exiting him.

His hands tighten around your thighs, as he watches obsessively with how you lose yourself around his cock. It guts him, it makes the slow rocking against you all the more meaningful as he watches your hands find his pecs and dig into the flesh as the first wave of release consumes you. He fucking loves how your eyes can’t stay open enough with how atrociously satisfying this is to you, because it’s in the way your thighs shake and cramp and your mouth hangs open in deliverance. Karl has to watch it even as the vice grip around his cock makes him light headed from the way it yanks his release as well. Make him push his sweaty forehead against your own and rub like a starved animal for affection.

He can’t keep his eyes open when he says it, runs the words against your lips like a ghostly lover would.

“I’m yours too…”

And when your hands find his chest and dig into the skin of his pecs, eyes unable to remain open because he’s making you cum so hard its earth shattering to witness it. Karl feels the vice like grip yank his own release out of him, makes him feel hazy and so atrociously satisfied.

“I’m going to stop you right there pal, mostly because at this rate fucking with your peace of mind doesn’t hold a candle to fucking this delightful

[mywifealhaitham]

꒰ - the wild wild west. part I

cowboy! yuuji itadori, megumi fushiguro, nobara kugisaki x reader (seprate)

◟a/n◝ ok so I was gonna add gojo and geto to this but I didn't really want to write them tonight so I just did these 3! also I plan on making 4 parts (part 2: gojo geto toji nanami part 3: maki inumaki yuuta part 4: sakuna mahito and choso) also I jsyt um love cowboys !!!

◟warnings ◝ fem!reader in nobaras, gun mention in yuujis and injured!reader in megumis also they all are probably ooc

yuuji itadori

cowboy!yuuji who is just starting off as a cowboy, barely fitting in the hat given to him by the sheriff.

cowboy!yuuji who spots you, also training to fight curses in the wild wild west with the gun on your belt, loaded up and powered with cursed energy.

cowboy!yuuji who immediately jumps off his horse and greets you with a handshake and a bright toothy grin. you giggle and extend your hand out, starting this new friendship.

over time you and yuuji grow closer and closer along with the other newbies, megumi and nobara. it was simple how the small town taught its students, shift the cursed energy you have into your guns and ropes. you and yuuji share a deeper bond than the rest since both your techniques are similar, both your strength is extremely boosted.

cowboy!yuuji who begs sheriff gojo to put you two on missions together since you both work oh so well... gojo originally doesn't oblige until both you and yuuji are tugging at his shirt with puppy dog eyes. he tips his hat and gives you two an easy mission... rounding up the locals cows.

cowboy!yuuji who helps you onto his horse by gently grabbing your waist and pushing you up just enough so you can swing your leg over the saddle. if you can easily slip onto the horse then he still rests his hand against your waist to make sure you don't fall.

cowboy!yuuji who internally fangirls when he finally hops onto the horse and feels your warmth behind him. he turns his head to meet your face which because of the close proximity, is a soft blush red. he gives you another of his sun challenging toothy grins and a thumbs up before grabbing the reins of his horse and trotting into town.

cowboy!yuuji who does the lamer parts of the job like running through the mud and almost slipping to grab the cattle that broke free from its owners fence and pushing the stubborn cow that refuses to move, insisting that it should spend its cow life mating with the cow in the other farm just across town.

you and yuuji finally sit down on a old wooden bench in the local farmers barn, both of you dripping with sweat and covered in mud and grass. yuuji leans his head back while you fan yourself off with your hat. the both of you stare into the distance admiring the orange and pink hues in the sky fading down near the earth and the new grey and blue rays filling the sky and you notice the gleam and glimmer of the stars finally awakening. finally after what seems like a still eternity yuuji swings forward and stands up on his heels, raising his arms above his head loosening his sore muscles "say... think it's time to get back, yeah? sheriff must be worried sick" he says with a light yawn before holding out his hand for you to take. you nod while grabbing his hand and standing up but as luck would have it you stumble over your boot a bit causing you to almost lose your balance. luckily for you yuuji reacts instantly and grabs onto your forearms saving you from a nasty fall but also shortening the distance between both of you. glancing up to look at his face you realize just how pretty he is, his brown eyes that seem so deep yet hold a fondness for you and the light brown freckles which scatter across his skin illuminated by the setting sun. you both dont realize how long you've been staring at eachother until a gunshot rings out across the barn. you both jump up and turn towards the sound only to see the local farmer with a lit cigar in his mouth and his rifle in one hand cursing at you both about leaving his property and something about young bastards in love. needless to say you both quickly hopped onto yuji's horse giggling all the way back to the sheriff's office.

megumi fushiguro

cowboy!megumi who's been a cowboy longer than his other comrades and was personally raised by the sheriff.

cowboy!megumi who catches the eye of all the teen girls in town and who desperately flock to his sister to befriend her all for a chance with her handsome brother.

cowboy!megumi who turns them all down in favor of you, a clumsy fighter who's new to the whole fighting curses and riding horses but sheriff gojo thinks you have major potential.

cowboy!megumi who coldly scolds you after yet another cut to your knee or feeding your horse too much or too little.

cowboy!megumi who always makes sure that his scoldings are softer than when he scolds yuji or nobara in which they notice and understanding get pissed and jealous.

cowboy!megumi who stays silent as the sheriff assigns you two a mission of clearing out some curse bandits in the west side of town.

cowboy!megumi who tells you to treat the injured and make sure everyone indoors is safe while he handles the dirty work, it's not that he doesn't trust you it's just always breaks his heart when you get injured.

cowboy!megumi who fails to notice the stray arrow flying towards you, grazing your thigh just enough to leave a deep cut and draw blood. quick on his feet, he leads you inside a empty tavern for some quick medical treatment.

the west side tavern which was normally known for the drunk bards singing folk tales and the gossiping ladies telling tales about their love affairs was extremely quiet at this time. for starters it was midday, not a ideal drinking time for the people and secondly most of the citizens have flocked east to avoid the bandit attack that happened just moments earlier. luckily for the people you and megumi arrived and with you treating the injured and megumi fighting off the curse the problem was swifty delt with and gone however a new problem arose, the tension between you and megumi is this empty tavern. You were dead silent and he gently patched the cut in your thigh. his hands barely applied any pressure on your skin as he took the bandage and wrapped it around the plush of your thigh, his eyes so fixated on his work. your heart was beating so fast and you felt like he can hear it from his place crouching down on the floor. finally he stands up from the floor and brushes any stray dirt from his pants before finally looking into your eyes. "you alright?" he says scanning your body for any stray injuries. you nod frantically, a slightly red coating your face. he holds out a hand for you and you hesitantly grab it. you shakily stand up and limb over to him, once in reach his other arm finds it way around your waist before leading you out of the tavern. when you finally got outside you notice how he winces at each uncomfortable step you take. you think to yourself that maybe he thinks of you more than just a clutz.

nobara kugisaki

cowgirl!nobara who absolutely has the attitude to be a threatening cowgirl but is still just in training.

cowgirl!nobara who clings to you from the start, the only other female student amongst the first years.

cowgirl!nobara who really enjoys doing missions with you, cleaning the stables with you, training with you and basically doing everything with you.

cowgirl!nobara who blows up at any of the town boys who tip their hat toward you and send you a coy wink. she believes they should know better than to charm someone on duty, you and her are very focused on a mission.

cowgirl!nobara who denies the fact she's protective over you with some curses and a slight red to her face.

cowgirl!nobara who tells you when you're both alone that you remind her of someone she used to know and they slipped through her fingers so she's just kinda projecting but you don't mind.

cowgirl!nobara who appreciates when you offer to ride over to the richer neighboring towns to see the beautiful and unaffordable dresses in the tailor shops.

giggling could be heard as a beautiful grey and white horse rides into town, only slowing down as more and more people walk around. since this is a richer neighborhood the local folk stare you both down, in your dirty shirts and ripped and worn down skirts. finally you and nobara hop off the horse and gently guide it to walk along you too as you stroll through town. it's peacefully silent between you both since no more words needed to be said. you subconsciously shift closer to her as you walk further into town, normally a experience like this would be terribly nerve wracking but it seemed like you and nobara were in your own little world. finally you both arrived at a tailor shop with some dresses on display on a dusty glass window. as you both stare into the display you barely notice how nobaras gaze isn't focused on the silk creation but instead on you, a soft smile formed on her face.

[pricescigar]

Vincent Saar Bowman

Cw: Mentions of murder & violence

Born: 5th November 1884

Age: 75 (Deceased in 1959)

Nationality: British

Gender: Male

Height: 182.88 cm (6ft)

Parent(s):  Unknown

Siblings(s): Unknown

Wife: Clara Jones (Deceased)

Hair colour:  Brown

Eye colour:  Brown

Nicknames:  Vin, Vinny _________________________________________

Personality:

Strong headed, stubborn, yet kind and caring on the inside. Vincent is protective of the family he made, and prone to violence when necessary when it comes to protecting mutants.

Likes: his family, wife, smoking cigars, travelling, protecting mutants, his club, music

Dislikes: Humans, loud spaces, disloyalty, Being late to things, his paranoia getting the best of him,

_________________________________________

Backstory:

Vincent Saar Bowman grew up in London, coming from a well to do family. He had the highest , most private education that was offered to him. The oldest of eight siblings, Vincent was the most intelligent put of them all, he was the role model, most responsible and the back bone of the family.

At 14 years old in 1894, Vincent suffered a traumatic accident which caused him great distress, what kind of accident remains unknown due to him to have never spoken about it.

What truly happened was that his parents and siblings died in a freak accident, leaving him the only sole survivor. Now the only surivor of the Bowman family. All inheritance was left to him.

Vincent began to hear voices a day after the accident. Voices that weren't his own, he thought he was going crazy but he always ignored it. Whenever he focused on people. He could hear thoughts, their deepest, darkest desires. Everything about them.

With his new found mutation. He didn't know what to do with himself, other than to try and keep it under wraps the best he could. Discovering that he could read peoples minds, make them do whatever he wanted was a great thing. Something he needed to control.

At the age of 18 in 1902, Vincent met his wife Clara who was also a mutant with the most beautiful wings he'd ever seen. Though Clara was always seen as a freak, after she was recently disowned by her parents he took her in and the two quickly fell in love. Truly it was love at first sight. By the end of the year the two got married.

The two moved out of London and moved to East Hanningfield for a new chapter of their life, and a better life for the future.

In September of 1903 , Clara gave birth to her daughter Harriet. Both of them were surprised that they managed to have a child, as they struggled to reproduce

Though Vincent was disappointed over the years that she didn't show any signs of her mutation. Yet, part of him was glad that the teo could have a normal child, without the curse of a mutation.

With Vincent determined to find other mutants like he and his wife, however he didn't know where to start. But part of him always knew, he would find someone like him one day.

Summer of 1928, Vincent met Sebastian Shaw, the two grew a close bond with one and another. Again, I feel glad that he and his wife went alone, Vincent proposed a deal to create am underground club for any other mutants they find. So that they could feel safe and protected.

August of that same year, Vincent formed "The Ministry." His own personal gang, or club however you may perceive it. Which included himself, Clara, Sebastian Shaw and five other mutants who joined in the later years.

With Harriet now an adult at the age of 25 and watching her get close to Sebastian Shaw. He approved of the marriage when Shaw personally asked Vincent for his daughters hand in marriage. He accepted of course.

1930 Vincent's daughter got married to Sebastian shaw, and in 1932 Harriet gave birth to Harper making Vincent a grandfather.

In the early year of 1939 , Clara got murdered by humans when they discovered she was a mutant. She died of injuries that were too severe, heartbroken by the news... It didn't take long for Vincent to track them down, and kill the humans with his mind.

Now more paranoid than ever thinking humans were constantly after him and his family. Any human that found out about his club, were killed instantly. Without a second thought. After what happened to Clara, he rarely trusted any human that he came across.

In 1940, Harriet ran away with Harper when she was only eight years old. That only increased Vincent’s paranoia knowing that humans aren't so kind when it came to mutants.

But no matter how hard Vincent looked, he was never able to find them. Leaving it to Sebastian shaw to try and find them.

At the height of the Second World War, his club got disbanded due to the increasing threat of the war. Sebastian Shaw went off to do his own thing, the other mutants disappeared to keep themselves safe. Leaving Vincent more alone than ever.

Over the years he grew more insane, spending so many years alone got to Vincent badly. He began to hallucinate, seeing things that aren't really there.

As he got older, he got sicker. Eventually he got diagnosed with dementia, and prone to having seizures sometimes he had such little time left.

In 1959, at the age of 75. He came across Harper again who was now and adult, but he had forgotten who she was. After suffering another severe seizure, losing control of his powers while accidentally hurting Harper.

Harper put herself and him in the astral plane, while the two had a heart to heart. With Vincent finally remembering Harper in his last moments, he used the last bit of strength he had to enhance Harper's telepathy to help her become stronger, to protect herself before he passed away.

[franciskirkland-deleted]

Hetalia Headcanons - Cuba 🇨🇺🏝️🌺

his full human name is carlos ángel machado ruiz, or shortened to carlos machado. i don't have a set physical age for him but maybe around 30?

he's a marxist-leninist. very intelligent, intellectual but unpretentious, and politically active. he's an academic, probably has degrees in political science and/or economics. i could see him being a medical doctor as well, as cuba is renowned for its advanced healthcare.

he's friendly and generous with a laid back personality, loyal to his loved ones and passionate about social/environmental causes. he can be impatient, and does have a temper but it's hard to provoke and reserved for rude and ignorant people. very much a beliver of respect being a two way street.

his canon bday is may 20th and i honestly love that for him. classic stubborn taurus with a touch of unbothered gemini swag.

he's an ambivert, he throws a great party and likes to socialize but also keeps his circle small and needs a lot of alone time. i think he'd be old friends with russia, though they're not as close as they once were and ivan can get on his nerves. he understandably has beef with america, but is slowly becoming more civil with alfred.

he loves to read, particularly history and political theory. some other hobbies are swimming, fishing, playing the tres (a type of guitar) or afro-cuban percussion e.g. tumbadora (aka conga) and bongós.

his sense of humor is dry with a goofy side that comes out around people he's closer with. he has a quick wit and is always telling dad jokes. also very much a softie for kids, animals and nature.

i headcanon him as gay/demisexual, cucan is an essential ship for me personally so they're a package deal. he is so gentle with mattie, so giving and protective. they treasure each other selflessly and understand one another better than anyone.

he loves to eat and cook, especially loves when matthew cooks for him or they cook together. his favorite dish is black beans and rice with tostones. he also loves strawberry ice cream and tropical fruits.

he's afro-latino + mixed race, with yoruba (west african) taino (indigenous carribbean islander) and spanish ancestry. his skin tone would be a medium warm brown, maybe a 5 on the fitzpatrick scale. once again the canon design is kinda colorist.

he has a distinct accent and is mutlilingual, and speaks quite a bit of quebecois thanks to matthew.

his body type is buff and chubby, he's wicked strong and built like a tank but doesn't have that much definition bc the chub is hiding it. dad bod.... chest hair and moobs. he's about 6 feet tall. he has long dreadlocks that he's been maintaining since he was young.

i could see him being a lapsed catholic/culturally catholic but personally atheist. he's much more material than spiritual in terms of philosophy.

he smells like coconut, cinnamon and cigars (in a pleasant way)

he mostly dresses casually (hawaiian shirts and cargo shorts lol) if hes just chilling at home he's probably shirtless. earth tones suit him well, so do orange, yellow, pink, and jewel tones. bonus; he wears a gold chain and sometimes rings.

he partakes in alcohol occasionally, when he does he loves rum and fruit-based cocktails. sipping a lil drink on the beach is one of his favorite ways to relax and he deserves it. he does smoke weed recreationally but honestly i think matthew is way more of a stoner.

[missrandomdreamer]

Apple Pickin'

~Smoker x (OC) Beatrice Snippet~

(Note: Vermouth is the owner of the pub Beatrice works at and is a father figure to her ;3 also reference of Smoker's outfit form the One Piece Grand Collection thanks to One Piece Grand Collection for archiving this photo because oof i love this outfit) Also pretty much wrote this and didn't look back so sorry if there is a bit of erros >>

A bear claw reached up and plucked an apple from the branch before it was placed in a wicker basket. A soft song came from the woman as she picked apples one by one. "Beatrice! You have company!" Vermouth called from the farm house yards away. Beatrice felt her lips twitch into a smile before she peaked through the large boughs of the apple tree in time to see her visitor: Vice Admiral Smoke, come down the steps of the weathered farm house. Today he wasn't in his marine attire perhaps trying to blend in more wearing a leather jacket, olive green button up with tight jeans. She watched him from her hidden spot before bringing up her legs completely hiding her from view. Her hazel eyes could still see Smoker who now looked confused as he looked from tree to tree. She had to admit-it was a very cute look on him. She suppressed a giggle as she still walked around confused.

"Bea?"

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Smoker thanked the older gentleman who gestured to the backdoor of the farm. "Beatrice should be out there picking apples-somewhere. I haven't seen her in awhile, but the basket of apples is growing." Vermouth shrugged and gave a tired smile, "That girl doesn't know when to take a break, make sure she gets one, Admiral." He patted Smoker's shoulder causing the Vice Admiral to crack a smile, cigars hanging from his lips.

"Ill try, you know how stubborn she can be." The old man laughed shaking his head,

"Don't I know it. Good luck with her." Vermouth hobbled back into his home leaving Smoker to attempt to find the bear woman hiding in the orchard. The air was crisp, somewhere close by someone was burning leaves. Smoker took in a deep breath, his body feeling at ease. This had started occur since coming to visit Beatrice-he started to feel less uptight. Speaking of which-

"Bea?" Smoker eyebrows furrowing slightly looking from tree to tree, peeking up into the bows, "Bea? Where are you?" He kept looking from left to right until suddenly heard a hush of leaves behind him. He had just turned around and look up when something-someone jumped down from the tree. Smoker let out a yell in surprise as he felt a weight on him, knocking the breath out of him and crushing his bits---a bit. He grunted in pain as he looked up to see Beatrice sat on top of him, a large grin on her face,

"Boo!" She giggled as she took an apple from the basket on her arm, taking a bite out of it smirking. "Good to see you Smoky."

Smoker just laid there, wind knocked out of him, and his nether regions crushed just looked up at her with wide brown eyes and his face burning with a mix of embarrassment and anger, quickly spreading across his face: his cigars had fallen out of his mouth which he held agape. There was Beatrice straddling him as if it was the most normal thing to do, her smoky mousy hair cascading over her chest in waves, hazel eyes full of mischief, and maroon colored lips smiling down at him. She was wearing dark brown turtleneck sweater and patched up short overalls but the most endearing part of her appearance were the leaves stuck in her hair form being up in the tree.

"Beatrice!? What-what the hell was that for?" he breathed. " I could have hit you!"

Beatrice just laughed, "But you didn't and anyway I would have dodged it." taking another bite of the apple. He watched her swallow the piece of fruit before his brown eyes flickered away from her throat up to her hazel eyes, they were shining. "I actually wanted to jump on your back but this works to. Your lap is very comfortable." Bea laid down on his chest, still straddling him, chin resting in her hand, Smoker's face flushed, " I wanted to surprise you. Are you surprised?" Smoker grunted, he wanted to move his legs but he was to afraid too. "Y-Yes, very." Beatrice grinned again and put the apple she had been eating to his lips.

"Good-have a bite. These apples are absolutely delicious." Smoker nodded and took a bite, making the the bear woman smile, her soft ears twitchy cutely, before she slid off of him. Smoker sat up quickly, as she removed the apple from his mouth swallowing the piece of fruit looking away sheepishly, also trying not to choke. The bear woman looked down at him, head cocking like a curious bear cub before taking another bite. " I'm glad you are here. I'm almost finished up here, care to help, you can take some back to your boat?"

Smoker sighed, taking out two cigars then lighting them. He suddenly reached out and removed the leaves in Beatrice's hair eliciting a small blush from the woman. With one of the leaves he bopped her on the nose, her hazel eyes widening at him causing him to grin. " Yeah I'll help ya, Bea, but no more tricks."

Beatrice grinned and put out her bear claw of a hand, "All right deal." He just shook his head before shaking her hand. The two then took to it, Beatrice scurrying up the tree with ease while Smoker held the basket. The vice admiral watched her and couldn't help have a smile on his lips. With each time they met-she too seemed to let down the dark and intimidating facade.

It didn't mean she still couldn't be scary as hell but when it was just the two of them like this, doing the most mundane things, she seemed a lot happier and playful-sweet: attributes Smoker didn't want to admit he found endearing. Smoker just watched her move with ease in the tree trying not to stare at her backside and the little cute nub of a tail, nor the way he saw her muscles move or the way her hair look incredible soft in the afternoon light. Smoker coughed, shit, he didn't want to admit...maybe he had it bad for the woman...maybe.

"Smoker do you need some water?" Beatrice looked down from the tree eyebrows furrowed in concern, but he shook his head and waved his gloved hand in front of him,

"No-no I'm fine."

"Okay..if you are sure."

The two worked on, mostly in silent but comfortable in the silence of each other. By the time they were done, the sun would be setting in an hour or so. Vernmouth came out and waved them in,

"That's enough for the day you two. You both did more than enough." The old man grinned, "Feel free to take a basket home with you-each of you. "

"Thanks Vern-" Beatrice came up and gave him a hug and he just patted her head before she pulled back. Smoker just gave the man a handshake,

"Thanks, appreciate it." With that the two set off, each with a basket of fresh apples. They walked side by side-Beatrice flexed her bear claw and attempted to rush Smoker's hand but the man seemed to be lost in thought. She cleared her throat, Smoker's soft brown eyes looked over to her,

"You know-it will be dark pretty soon. You could stay at my place for the night."

Smoker laughed, "I ain't afraid of the dark, Bea. I could make it to the ship just fine." Beatrice frowned and looked away,

"Well-I thought you would be tired after all that labor and you might want to stay in a nice little cottage, with a warm fire and a good meal for the night." She tossed her hair over her shoulder, pouting. Smoker didn't answer her. "Not to mention, a comfortable bed to sleep in, better than that hammock you are used to on the ship."

Smoker furrowed his eyebrows, "You only have one bed." He turned to look at her and she met his gaze and smiled, her eyes looking a bit mischievous again,

"Oh I know-I don't mind sharing." Smoker nearly choked on his cigars and looked away, "I have a couch too, but it might be just a tad less comfortable then the queen size bed, and all those warm blankets." She shrugged.

Again Smoker couldn't answer her, his face felt heated. Silence again, came between them. Beatrice would steal glances at Smoker, trying to gauge his mood but his face was unreadable, except maybe for the blush now on his cheeks but that could just be the glow from the setting sun. Smoker didn't turn to look at her even though he felt her eyes on him. He heard her make a small noise before she bumped up against him causing another shiver to run through him.

" Smokey?"

"Hm?"

"Can you give me a piggy back ride?" Beatrice's voice came out a lot softer than her usual tone, perhaps she was embarrassed at the request. Smoker turned to look at her, eyebrows furrowed , cigars forever puffing, had he heard her right?

"What?"

Beatrice looked at him, perhaps a tad shy. She twisted a piece of her soft mousy hair around one of her bear claws, " Piggy back ride...Can I get a piggy ride back please."

"Do your feet hurt?" She shook her head no. Smoker furrowed his eyebrows more, " Did you hurt ankle?"

Beatrice felt her face heat up, "No- I just thought...

"Then why would I-?" Beatrice looked away blushing and lips pouted,

"Oh never mind." she snapped, her tone not angry just tired and perhaps a bit sad.

Once more silence, before Smoker just huffed and stomped in front of her, "All right Bea, get on, and stop that pouting." He grumbled, hiding his face from her. He heard a little excited 'eep!' before she scampered up onto his back. He felt her weight against him and her face rest against the back of his head. Her lower bear arms and claws draped over his shoulders while he held on to her legs.

He then felt a soft kiss flutter on the back of his neck causing another shiver to race up his spine, "Thanks Smoker." her breath warm and gentle against his skin. Smoker just grunted and cleared his throat,

"Hm. Whatever. Don't get used to it though, I'm not going to be letting you do this all the time."

Beatrice laughed, "How about only on special occasions?" "This isn't a special occasion."

"It's special to me." she said factually. "And you never answered my question?"

"What question?" Smoker adjusted his placement on how he was holding her, shifting his weight slightly, adjusting the basket of apples on his arm along with still holding on to Beatrice.

Beatrice sighed exasperated, "Are you staying over or what? Or am I going to spend a lovely fall night all alone?" He could practically hear her pouting. "Hmph." Smoker let smoke out through his nose, he chewed on his cigars a bit harder. He didn't want to admit it but he really wanted to. Not just because yeah, sleeping in a home would be nice instead of sleeping on the ship but he wanted to be with her. Though in his heart he knew it would be not wise. He couldn't -he shouldn't. "I can't keep seeing her like this....I should just cut ties now. I don't want to hurt her." He sighed to himself, he felt her lean more on to him, perhaps trying to turn her head to see his face.

"Smoker?" her voice was soft in his ears.

" I want to though...I want to be with her but I know with her living here and me being a marine-I don't know how long it's going to work out for us." "Hey Smoker...are you okay?" Smoker felt a gentle touch on his exposed skin, the skin that was peaking out from his button up shirt. He jolted and his grasp suddenly tighten on her as if she would suddenly disappear from him.

"Yes... I'm fine." he paused exhaling a breath, releasing his touch ever so slightly on her. "I'll stay over...if it isn't trouble." he muttered. He shouldn't but he would. Who knew how long he would get to be with her, might as well take all the time he could get.

"Wait what really!? You will?" Beatrice gasped and hugged him his neck causing him to choke.

"Be-Beatrice choking!"

"Oh-oh sorry I'm just happy!" she nuzzled her nose into the back of his neck causing that little tremor through his body, "I'm so happy you are here, Smoker." her voice going softer. Smoker just huffed a laugh, gently patting her legs, his chest tightening.

"Yeah...me too."

~The End~

[averysexyleon]

in which heisenberg explains why he stole rose

“Made my factory look like a resort.  Old town hospital they bought.  Had the full lab, shitty place.  Had known about it from…anyway.” 

He was struggling to continue, but Heisenberg soldiered on despite Ethan’s gaze.  “So I knocked all the power, backup power too.  Figured she was cryin’ from the dark.  Gonna just destroy the samples, be on my way.  Goal was you, Ethan.  Not her.  She was with her mom. I’d never. But then I heard ‘em talkin’.  The docs, not security.”   

Karl paused once more, heavy weighted silence draping over the two men.  Ethan thought back to the memory: the dark hall, the wheelchair.  Whoever was in it seemed almost sedated, slouching forward.  After several moments, Karl cleared his throat.  

“Mia wasn’t..she wasn’t, well.  I’m guessin’ that bitch, bein’ in the lab….”  Karl’s agitation grew, and he shivered in the sun, willing the energy away.  “Anyway.  Heard they were separatin’ her, gonna run tests on Rose while Mia wasn’t well enough to….” 

Ethan’s widened gaze dropped from Heisenberg’s scarred face, to the wildflowers at his feet.  The lonely, Gothic setting of this cliffside, rose-laden garden, and the country home beyond it, suddenly made more sense than anything had in awhile.  It was bleak, cynical, and wove loss together with love as if they were one entity.  

Family was supposed to be forever, a promise, a solidarity.  Something as permanent as the stare on the face of the granite angel that peered down at them now.  

It was what had kept Ethan going, what felt safe and indestructible.  More often than not, it was the only thing that kept him going, through the darkest days he’d ever experienced.  Days that should have ended with his death, Mia’s death.  Rose’s death.  But they’d all come through.  And he thought, stupidly, it had been because they were family.  That wasn’t why.  

Since Dulvey, the only thing that Ethan had truly learned was how truly ephemeral family could be.  From the Bakers, to Eveline’s longing, all the way across the world to this godforsaken spot, where family seemed synonymous with decay .  

He’d always known, hadn’t he?  Ethan’s stubbornness was truly just denial of what he’d always bore witness to.  Family was a house of cards, a rotting foundation that could go away at any time.  He thought it gave him strength, but it wasn’t family.  It was the Mold all along, making all of them superhuman, but still broken.     

He’d given Rose to Chris.  Handed her over to the only man he’d trusted, at one time.  The BSAA saw them all as nothing but experiments after all of it.  Ethan hadn’t known his own wife was sitting in a cavern while Miranda was with him…an entire village slaughtered, and he a last-minute witness to the end of even more families.  All of it caused by the dreams and ambition of a broken mother.  

The person Miranda sought never appeared to her, after all this time.  

Ethan’s breath was loud in his ears.  Tears stung his eyes and for the first time since she’d reappeared, he lost sight of Rosemary thanks to his blurring vision.  Ethan had never openly sobbed in front of Heisenberg, or anyone else, but he buried his face in his hands and heard his own ragged breaths turning into hiccuping sobs.  

If Heisenberg thought this emotional display inappropriate, he didn’t comment on it.  Instead his hands danced around his coat pockets, finding the winning combination of cigar and lighter.  

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