#she seems so fucking cool and I love her mask

[bainofjustice]

JOY IS GONNA BE IN THREE LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

[bi-writes]

Ooo ooo ooo know what I think Simon in MOB would love?? a fashion show after he picks up his girl from shopping. I mean she seems like the kinda of girl to show off what she got, cuz simply she’s just so excited and he’s just so grateful for a show from his little love

mail-order bride (18+)

it's always raining lately. the weather has been cooling as the winter months get closer, and the rain has been a constant reminder of the days coming that would be spent inside.

simon didn't mind spending time inside. he liked being inside, in his house, away from others. when he was home, it was just you there. thing 1 and thing 2 occasionally appear, but it's you that takes up the space in the kitchen watching your dough rise impatiently, you that takes up that corner spot on the couch with your favorite knit blanket with a terrible movie on. the sight of that, he'll never get over it--he'll never get used to the pretty girl that lives in his house and wears his ring and sleeps in his bed and says his last name when they ask her, "your name, ma'am?"

his phone buzzes in his pocket as he ducks his head to get into his truck. he pulls it out, sighing, starting up the car when he reads your message.

all done! waiting at the corner.

when he turns onto the main street, he sees you standing at the corner with your umbrella, waving at him with a big smile. he can't help the one that blooms under his mask; fuck, he's beaming whenever he looks at you.

he puts the car in park, coming out to greet you. you hop on your toes as he comes around the car, and he dips his head under the umbrella as you stand high on your toes and kiss him over his mask.

"simon--"

"missed ya."

"it's only been a few hours--"

"'s too cold ta be out 'ere, baby, let's get ya inside."

you hum as he smooths his hands over your jaw, giving you another kiss through the mask before picking up the shopping bags that you're holding. he takes the umbrella from you, holding it as he guides you off the curb and into the passenger side of the car. he smacks your ass gently as you hop up, and you squeak when you sit down, giggling as you push at his chest.

"simon!"

"wot? wot did i do?"

"you're a dog, i swear."

"dunno wot y'mean, baby, tha's my wife in my car, and she looks bloody lovely."

you bite your lip, shaking your head.

"get in the car, simon, jeez..." you whisper, but your mind is running, and simon is looking way too good in this leather bomber jacket get-up he decided to pull out today. fuck, his arms have never looked so big, have they? has he been working out more?

just as he leans in for more, you put a hand on his chest, smiling down at him.

"slow, down, simon..." you touch your nose to his. "i got a surprise for you. let's go home, hmm?"

simon always skirts over the speed-limit, but you hold his hand extra tight as he swerves a little more than usual on the way home.

when you make it inside the warmth of your house, simon helps you take your jacket and boots off, hanging everything by the door and ripping his mask off so he can bury his face in the crook of your neck and kiss you there, his words muffled as he tries to talk between kisses, as if not kissing you might deprive him of something as necessary as breath.

"wot's the surprise?" he whispers, and you turn around to face him, giggling as he cups your cheeks and kisses you firmly, on the mouth, feverish and eager. "taste like chocolate, buy some sweets while ya were out, did ya?"

"simon--"

"fuckin' hell, don't say my name like tha'," simon groans, backing you up until you hit the wall with a gentle thud. his hand slips into your hair to cushion it, his hand taking the weight of the wall as he kisses you again, harder this time. "so pretty, tell me--"

"simon!" you laugh, "just go sit down...sit, you're so impatient--"

he can't sit still. his knee is bouncing as he sits on the couch, and he sucks on his teeth as he watches the door of your bedroom. it's closed, and he can hear you moving around behind it. a few moments later, you open the door just slightly, poking your head out with a sheepish smile.

"ready, simon?"

"fuckin' hell, ready since the day i was born."

you swing open the door, bouncing into the living room. simon raises his fist to his mouth, biting on it, and he curses under his breath when he sees you wearing the most adorable dress he's ever seen.

it won't see the light of day for a few months since it's nearing winter, but you could wear it at home all you like (he hopes you wear it every fucking day).

it's cherry red. big fluffy skirt, made up of many layers. it's made of linen, with a sweetheart neckline and short sleeves, and it is perfectly tailored to you. simon closes his eyes for a moment, fuckin' get it together, mate, and when he opens them again, you're standing there in the living room, very sheepish, hands behind your back.

"do...do you like it?" you ask. "i...they had this dress there when i went a couple weeks ago, but none of them fit, so i...i asked if we could take my measurements, and..."

"jesus fuckin' christ," simon breathes, leaning his head back against the couch. "baby, please stop talkin'. just for a minute, olright?"

"oh...okay."

simon takes a deep breath. he raises his palms to his eyes, and he rubs them hard. he keeps his eyes closed as he shifts his hips, smoothing a big palm down his stomach before taking a look at you again. he groans a little when he sees you again, standing there all shy, timid, nervous.

"give me a spin, luv," simon murmurs. you take the hem of your skirt and do a small twirl for him, spinning on your toes in the living room. simon clenches his jaw as he watches the skirt flutter a little, the layers underneath swishing and then falling over your thighs again. simon adores a good skirt; it's his favorite thing in the world to put his hands up them, to fondle the lace or cotton of your panties underneath it, to watch your chest rise and fall in panting breaths when he takes you apart with his fingers. he's in love with the way your breasts will fill the neckline of your dress, practically spill over when you bend at the hip and present yourself for him.

christ, he needs to fuck you.

simon cups himself through his jeans, and he relishes in the way your eyes widen. he unbuckles his belt, popping the button and shoving his jeans down until they sit just low enough that he can take himself out. your knees buckle a little as you watch him, your lips parting as you stare at the way he spits into his hand and spreads his wet palm over the tip of him.

"simon," you whisper, your hands wringing together as he tilts his head to the side and smooths his hand down his length. he grunts, shaking his head.

"pull y'r dress down," he murmurs, and you grow warm all over. your toes curl a bit; he's so big, tip nice and wet and pink. the girth of him shocks you, but it's always felt so nice in your mouth. you know how good it'll feel inside you, when you sit on him finally, when he-- "pull it down, baby."

you swallow hard, slipping the sleeves down your shoulders a little. you push it down just a little, just until your tits fall over the neckline and spill out. simon groans loud, his hand moving just a little faster, his head shaking a little more.

"come 'ere, baby," he says lowly, patting his lap. "come 'ere, let me put my mouth on ya."

you walk over shakily, making your way to him. you put your hands on the back of the couch before you settle with both knees on either side of him. as soon as your tits dangle in his face, he's leaning up and sucking one of your nipples into his mouth. you gasp, arching your back, and even with your skirt covering your laps, you can still hear the wet slap, slap, slap of simon's wet palm frantically pumping his cock.

"fuck--fuck," simon croaks, letting your go. there's a bit of drool pooling along the side of his mouth, and he swallows it down before nodding towards you. "sit back, sweet'art, let me see--"

you put one palm on his knee, leaning back, and use your other hand to gather up your skirt and lift it. simon sucks on his teeth as he sees your cunt, wet panties sticking to it, and he moves his hand a little faster.

"please cum, simon," you beg, your fingers pushing your panties aside. his face falters a little, his hand moving just a little sloppier, and you whimper. "please--please give it to me--"

he lets out a low breath as he cums, aiming at your cunt and watching as he paints your folds. you use your fingers to spread it, dipping your fingers inside yourself with a whine before moving them against your clit gently. simon uses his other hand to grip your hip, drawing you just close enough that he can smooth his cock through your folds, spreading your slick and his own cum and making a mess between your thighs. he chuckles, hearing you cry out, and you meet his eyes with tears.

"just the tip," you beg, moving your fingers along your clit faster. simon grins, so mean, licking his lips. he makes no move to help you, but he doesn't put himself back in his pants, either. "simon, j-just the tip--c-can i have just the tip?"

"oh, just the tip, luvvie?" simon murmurs. "think ya can take it? just tha'?"

"please--!"

your fingers are in a frenzy. it's so close, you can feel it, that beautiful mountain, you're climbing it, clawing your way up, and you just need a little more.

"simon!"

you nearly fall backwards. if it wasn't for his hand gripping your hip, you would've, but he catches you easily, his brows furrowing together as the tip of him slips inside of you nice and easy. your hips jerk a bit, rolling as you use just that much of him inside of you to bring yourself closer and closer and closer--

"fuck," simon breathes when he feels you cum. you tighten, sucking him in just a little more as you spill around him. globs of sticky slick pool along his cock, and you use a shaky hand to grip him gently and keep him there. even with just the tip, it feels so nice to be connected to him, to have him inside you, even just a little. your brain feels fuzzy and warm, your legs feeling blissfully weak as your spine melts a little into his hand just enough. he leans you forward until you're resting on his chest, and you squeak when he slips out of you. simon wraps his arms around your waist to keep you close, and your eyes flutter shut as you mouth at his neck absentmindedly.

"can't wait for it," you whisper against his skin. he's hot there, a little sweaty, and you lick timidly up his jaw to taste him. he grips your hair tight, smiling, and he pulls you back just a little so he can look into your eyes.

"and wot are y'gonna wear when i finally have ya, aye?"

you smile back, giggling soft.

"absolutely nothing, of course."

[silverselfshippingchaos]

y'all have permission to laugh at me for being predictable

maybe i need to just.. stop playing y.akuza.

[dyns33]

Obvious

Most of the time I see him as the cool silly big bro, but I love Deadpool, so here's a long Deadpool x female reader.

Normally nothing destined Y/N to meet Wade Wilson.

A normal life, without enemies, without superpowers, without contracts on her head. She didn't fight, respected the law (at least for the most serious and important things) and she considered herself to be a good person.

The first time she had passed Saint Agnes Orphanage, she hadn't really paid it much attention. The second time, she found it a little strange that an orphanage was in this part of the city, which was not really made for children.

Then one evening, when she had had a bad day, she realized that it was a bar and she decided to go in for a drink.

Since she thought an orphanage was strange in that place, she might have thought it was odd for a bar to have such a name. She could also have been scared when she saw the other customers, who all turned towards her, indicating that she might not be welcome.

But Y/N was tired, and she just wanted a drink before going home, so she smiled politely as she sat down at the counter.

The waiter frowned, but he agreed to serve her with a shrug, muttering that as long as she was an adult, it wasn't his problem.

A tall, bald, tattooed guy then approached her, putting a hand on her arm without worrying about her private space, asking her if she wanted to follow him home.

"… No thanks."

“Come on, don’t be a slut.”

"Please."

“Come with me, you stupid bitch.”

"Now, that's really not very nice. The lady said no, a gentleman should know it's time to leave. But no Hector, not only are you insisting, but you're being rude."

"Fuck you, Wade, don't get involved in this !"

The waiter continued to mumble about cleaning, while this Wade guy smashed Hector's head against the counter. A tooth even flew close to Y/N’s face.

That might have been enough to scare her completely. In addition to the surge of violence that was happening right next to her, there was the red suit, the katanas and other guns, which could make you want to flee as quickly as possible.

But when he finished kicking Hector's ass, Wade turned to her, and despite the mask, it was obvious that he was smiling, extending a hand towards her.

"Miss, my apologies for that boor. He knows nothing of good manners."

"… Thank you."

"You're very welcome, lovely angel ! Wade Wilson, Deadpool, Merc with a mouth, at your service ! Oh, he spilled your drink… Bad Hector ! Or was it me ? Maybe it was me. Weasel, the same for the little lady, on my note !”

“You already owe me a fortune.”

“I will kill whoever you want for free !”

“I thought you didn’t kill anymore.”

"Ah yes… I'll suck you for free !"

“Here you go, two drinks, just shup up Wade.”

In the end, Wade was a bit special, but not evil. He stayed with her, partly because he loved having someone to talk to, but also to make sure no one else was going to bother her again.

And he talked a lot. Everything he said didn't always make sense, he even seemed to be talking to himself sometimes, but he was funny. It seemed to please him that Y/N laughed at his jokes. Behind the counter, Weasel was still muttering that she was doing something silly.

Among the long tirade he delivered that evening, she understood that Wade had not had an easy life. That he had done some things that could make him a criminal, but he had been trying to improve for some time.

"Colossus already wanted me to become an X-men but it wasn't for me. Wait, there are X-men in this universe ? I do not know anymore. Anyway, there's Spidey and Devy. No, he's right, this nickname isn't great, Devil. Like Daredevil. They want us to be Team Red, but only if I stop unliving people. It's not fair because they're friends with Frank, and Frank keeps unliving people, but he lost his wife and his kids, so I guess he has more sympathy points than me."

"I don't understand everything, but I guess Spidey is Spiderman ?"

"Yes ! He's super cool ! And his ass ! People confuse us sometimes, it annoys me, but it's a bit of a compliment. He's my role model."

Like a true superhero, Deadpool insisted on taking her home. He was terribly honest, saying that he could leave her a few blocks away, but that was useless, because as a former mercenary, he was very good at stalking people and he could find her address without difficulty, even if he only had her name.

"Which I wouldn't do ! Normally. I might want to see you again, and ask Weasel to find your number, but I know myself, I'll put it in my phone, and I'll hesitate for weeks, then I'll send a lousy message, you'll be scared, you'll block me, I'll be ashamed and I'll shoot myself in the head because I'm a moron."

“I can give you my number.”

"And I… Huh ? Huh ?! For real ?!" exclaimed Wade, jumping like a child on Christmas Day.

Wade called her right away, specifying that it was not to verify that she was giving him a false number but a little. Despite the mask, his face showed surprise when he saw that she hadn't lied.

"I should put a bullet in my head to make sure I'm not dreaming."

“You wouldn’t wake up.”

“Baby girl, we only just met, there are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

When Deadpool talked about shooting himself, he meant it literally. It often happened that he died, either because of an enemy, an accident, or by his own hand. But he always came back. A gift like a curse.

They became friends. It was obvious, and quite sad, that Wade didn't have many friends.

Most people around him couldn't stand him or were afraid of him. It was true that he could be quite unpredictable, especially when he got lost in his discussions with the boxes, or an imaginary audience. But he was never mean.

Weasel was more of a collaborator, Al was forced to accommodate him, and the other heroes, unable to get rid of him, tried to make him a nice guy.

And he was really nice. Crazy but adorable, funny and wanting to do well.

Very quickly, Y/N started to have a crush, and even more. Even after seeing him without a mask. He never took it off completely to eat, repeating that he didn't want her to lose her appetite or feel like throwing up.

But after landing in a trash can after a fight, and forgetting that he had invited her to watch Princess Bride, Y/N had seen him. Yes, his scars were a bit impressive, but they weren't that bad.

With an embarrassed smile, he waved his hand while remaining frozen near the entrance.

"… I can move if you want to run away. I won't follow you. I may look like Frankenstein's monster, but I only pursue young girls who ask me to. Or who deserve it. Because criminals have no gender, I don't discriminate."

“I brought popcorn.” was her only reaction.

"... Oh. Sweet ? Salty ? Caramel ? Al must have beer somewhere, hidden with the cocaine."

After that, he was a little less afraid to show his face, even though it was obvious he wasn't comfortable. It wasn't easy to reassure him, repeating that she didn't care about his appearance.

Y/N didn’t remember how they ended up having this conversation. The only thing she knew was that she was pressed against him, laughing, when she had innocently said it would be fun if they went out together.

This made Wade laugh, but a very serious laugh, leaving no chance and hitting where it hurt.

"You and me ? Ah ! No chance."

"Why ?"

"It's obvious."

A simple little sentence could sometimes do a lot of damage. Too busy making fun of the characters on the screen, Wade didn't see Y/N's look of sadness, just as he didn't feel her body stiffen.

Still, she should have expected this response. Of course it was obvious that they had nothing to do together. Deadpool was a super hero (in training), he was tall, muscular, funny, rich.

She had seen photos of his deceased ex, Vanessa. She had observed him flirting with beautiful women and men before. It was already fortunate that she was only friends with him.

So Y/N swallowed her pride, accepting the obvious, and not talking about the subject again.

But it was hard, because the more time passed, the stronger the feelings became.

It was even harder when Wade entered his depressive phases. He kept putting himself down, insulting himself and accepting insults from the boxes in his head. It took a lot of patience and perseverance to get him to put down his gun.

"Anyway, I'll come back later. Bad luck for the world. People would be happier if I wasn't here anymore. Maybe they'll miss me a little, for a few minutes."

“I would miss you, Wade.”

"Yeah… You say that because you're adorable, baby girl. But you'd be better off without me too. I'm a real drag."

“You saved me the first time we met.”

"And since then you think you owe me a debt. You know, every time we're in the street, the others look at me and they're afraid. If I wasn't there, you could be with them. You could have lots of friends.”

"I don't want lots of friends, Wade." Y/N sighed, taking him into her arms. “I’m glad we’re friends.”

“Oh, sweetie pie, me too !”

It was rarer for them to find themselves in the opposite situation. Not because Deadpool wasn't capable of empathy, but because she didn't like talking about her problems, preferring to keep everything to herself and cry out of sight.

Unfortunately, she had made the decision to become friends with a former mercenary who loved to jump from roof to roof, only to come visit without warning by tapping on the window.

Y/N had no time to hide her tears, holding back a sob as her eyes met those of Wade, who had stopped mid-movement, fist raised against his window.

He didn't hesitate before entering, terribly serious.

"Who ? Who did this ?"

“Wade…”

"Who made my baby girl cry ? I want a name. Spidey and Dev will understand. Yellow wants decapitation, White wants emasculation. Tell me who."

"It's really not necessary. It's not important."

“It’s important if you cry.” Deadpool growled as he looked around the apartment for clues.

Once he had an idea in his head, it was almost impossible to divert his attention. If it wasn't so important, it was possible with food or talking about Spiderman's butt. But this time he considered it very important.

Tired, Y/N thought that all she had to do was say that it was just a ridiculous heartbreak for him to calm down. He had no reason to kill someone just because they didn't love her back.

This actually seemed to calm him down a bit, as he patted his cheeks with his hands in a dramatic gesture.

"What ?! Someone doesn't love you ?! Someone doesn't like my sweet little angel ? Are they crazy or stupid. You deserve the best !"

"Actually… He's the one who's too good for me."

"Bullshit ! The important thing is love ! If a woman can marry a space duck, then everyone can be together, as long as it's legal and consensual !"

"… What ? No, wait, it doesn't matter. Wade, please forget it."

"A name. Let me prove to you that this fool doesn't deserve you, and not the other way around !"

"No."

"A name !"

"You ! It's you !"

For the first time since they met, Wade was silent for more than a minute, staring at her like he wasn't sure she was real. He often had hallucinations, so this happened to him.

Then he muttered incomprehensible things, probably speaking with his boxes to check that he had heard what she had just said.

"… Me ? As in, me ?"

“I know what you’re going to say.” Y/N sighed, wanting to disappear. "You've already said it, it's obvious that we're not meant to be together. You're charismatic, and strong, and funny, with powers. You save people, you have an extraordinary life, while I… I am me."

"… Baby girl. Do you have a fever ? Did you lose a bet ? Because… You saw me without a mask. You know I'm crazy and dangerous. There are several bounties on my head, I've unlived more people than the population of New York, and my favorite movie is Zoolander 2. When I said it was obvious… I meant that you were too good for me."

There had been a misunderstanding, each being convinced that the other could never want the other, because they were too different. But even though he was special, with skin problems and an inability to concentrate for more than ten minutes, Wade was much better than a space duck.

However, while she was sure of what she wanted, he hadn't clearly said what he expected next.

"I mean, if you just want to be friends, I'll understand."

"You can't tease me like that and then break my heart. Don't play with me, woman !"

“Wade…” Y/N sneered, as he gesticulated like a degenerate, declaiming his great love for her and her smile, the most beautiful thing he had ever seen.

Taking advantage of his inattention, she approached him, until he froze when he felt her hands on his mask.

With a look, she asked him if she could take it off, and as he didn't move to stop her, she took it off first up to his nose, before hesitating.

Y/N didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, but she also didn’t want him to think that she didn’t want to see him if she didn’t go further. So she took out the whole mask, she observed Wade, smiling before kissing him.

"… Don't take what comes next as a bad thing." he whispered as their lips parted.

"What ?"

"I'm going to have a heart attack…"

As always, Y/N thought he was joking at first, until he collapsed in front of her, looking delighted even though his heart had stopped beating. Fortunately she was used to seeing him die, even if it was still a little traumatic.

It took almost an hour for him to wake up. Y/N had time to take a shower and make herself some tea, sitting on the couch to wait.

"Shit !" he shouted as he opened his eyes, looking around the apartment before looking at her. “Did we kiss ?”

“Yes and you died.”

"It's weird. Normally you go to heaven after you die, not before. But I probably don't have enough superhero points for heaven yet, so the other option is that I became totally crazy."

“Wade…”

"I know, White and Yellow would have told me. They're already saying that all the time, but they would have insisted, especially for me to escape from the asylum. It's no fun fighting with fake people and hippos. Was I dead long ?"

“No, a little over half an hour.”

"And you stayed with me, it's so cute. Nurse Y/N. No, Doctor Y/N, and I'll be Nurse Wilson. Oh, Doctor Y/N, I made a mistake in the dosage of a patient, I'm a bad nurse, punish me."

"… Let's see Nurse Wilson, we're in the middle of an intervention, calm down."

"Uh oh ! You're playing along !" Wade exclaimed, pouting from the ground. "I didn't expect that ! Wait, I need a blonde wig, and a white dress. You'll see, I look super sexy in a dress. Wait, we do this now or it's quick and we should have a date first ?'

“I wouldn’t say no to a date.”

"I see the genre, like in novellas. Doctor Y/N takes me to the restaurant to talk about my future promotion, but in fact, you are going to admit to me that I am pregnant with you, before I even enter your bed !"

“As long as you’re in my bed before the hundredth episode.”

“UH !”

The small, high-pitched cry of pleasure preceded a second cardiac arrest, Deadpool's mind imagining Y/N and him in a bed, with a stetoscope.

When she asked him if he was going to have a heart attack every time, he told her that he would probably die for good the day he saw her naked, or that they made love for the first time.

But Wade was a gentleman, he ate lots of vegetables, exercised, and begged Daredevil to teach him meditation techniques.

So he had the courtesy of having the next heart attack only after they were finished, and in the toilet. And every time after that they were together, Wade would go out of his way to just get a nosebleed.

Especially on Weasel's counter, telling him everything they had done or almost everything, which annoyed the poor waiter a lot, even if he knew that it would happened from the start, the moment he saw Deadpool with Y/N.

[maybanksmusings]

THE WALLS ; JJ MAYBANK

SYNOPSIS ; when an unknown face appears in the outer banks searching for a father she's never met, she's unaware of how her life is about to be completely turned upside down.

WARNINGS ; jjmaybank x routledge!oc, strong language, depictions of violence, afab!reader, sexual content, mentions of abuse, drug and alcohol consumption, strangers to lovers, fast burn to slow burn, canon adjacent, not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE ; changes are being made! see this post to learn more. to me, this part seems a little like a filler, but i want to explore veronica as a character and develop each relationship with each character as something more than a side character, not just honing in on her relationship with jj, which of course is a huge part of the story also.

part one. part two. part three.

when veronica begins to stir, the sun had long set. there was no way of knowing how long the pair had been asleep, all she knew was the lights of the chateau were off and there was a bright pink post it note stuck to jj’s head.

‘gone fishin’. jb pissed.’

pope signed off on the note, a small smiley face drawn inside the o of his name. veronica knew the pouges hadn’t actually gone fishing, that is was some sort of code jj would decipher when he came to.

in this moment, veronica was content. wrapped in the arms of the most beautiful person she’d ever seen.

what could only be described as a war was ongoing in her head. she wasn’t exactly one to believe in love at first sight, she thought this entire ‘spark’ thing was something made up by male authors to keep women reading their shitty romance books to keep them hooked, waiting for it to happen to them.

but then she met jj, and he was like a magnet. every time veronica was in his presence she was mesmerised, whenever he was gone she felt like all the colour was drained from the world.

there was only two problems.

there was a maximum of forty eight hours that they knew each other, add to that he was her brothers best friend, then add to that said brother made it crystal clear that inter-group dating was not allowed.

oh, and then the whole ‘nobody knows i’m his sister but us’ thing.

“you’re staring, baby” jj mumbled, his voice low and tired as he stirred beneath her “can’t say i blame you”

with a sarcastic scoff, veronica sits upright in the hammock, her legs laid out across the blonds lap “just admiring the drool on your face”

“aren’t you funny.”

comfortable silence follows, jj crosses his arms behind his head and blinks the sleep out of his eyes. even though she was staring off into the water, veronica could feel jj’s eyes on her.

“can i help you?” veronica quipped, a teasing lilt to her words as she face the boy in question “use your words, you’ll get there.”

unexpectedly, jj sighs and lets his head fall back “what am i doing?”

veronica knows he didn’t intent for her to hear him, but she did. she would be lying if she said she wasn’t disappointed, but she was even more disappointed in herself at the pang of sadness that hit her.

before she can say, or do, anything, jj is sat up a little straighter and speaking again.

“listen, you’re a really cool girl,” he pauses, shaking his head and starting again “you’re hot as shit, damn it!”

barely, veronica manages to mask her giggle with a cough.

“don’t ask me how or why, but i gotta tell you i’m super into you.” he blurts out “yeah, makes no fuckin’ sense, we barely know each other, no pouge on pouge macking, you ain’t feeling me like that-“

her body is moving before her brain can even comprehend what she’s doing, chipped nail polish framing blond hair as she held his face in her hands and pressed their lips together.

then, her brain kicks in, and veronica jumps back like she’d just been burnt.

“fuck, jay i’m so sorry. i wasn’t thinking,”

seconds pass agonisingly slow and veronica can’t help but think about just how badly she had just fucked up.

but she doesn’t get to overthink for long.

a calloused hand tangled in long, brown hair. the other gripping her waist like it was a lifeline, helping her into his lap as his tongue makes its way into her mouth.

the kiss is messy, it’s desperate. like two people drowning, taking in the other like they were air. hands cling to whatever they can, afraid if they let go it would all be over.

any reservations veronica may have had about ‘the spark’ were discarded, undermined even, this wasn’t a spark, it was fireworks.

but fireworks don’t last forever, and when the sound of john b’s rickety van can be heard drawing closer. the newfound excitement being dulled by the shadow known as a protective older brother, a protective best friend.

by the time the missing pouges pour out of the twinkie, veronica and jj are in much less compromising positions, now sitting beside each other trading menial conversation about the earlier events of the day.

“welcome back to the land of the living,” kiara teases, a yellow vape coming up to her mouth as she took a hit “you two were out cold.”

instinctively, veronica’s hand shot out, wordlessly pleading for a hit of her vape. with a groan, kie handed it over.

veronica lets her head fall back against the hard oak of the tree behind her, relishing the feeling of her first hit of nicotine in two days. she had a vape when she left home, but it died before she even made it to the outer banks and being broke meant she couldn’t even go buy a replacement.

“you could’ve woke us up, y’know” jj defended, trying his hardest to act as if nothing happened, reminding himself to stop staring.

pope scoffs, not missing the longing stares sent the brunettes direction but purposefully ignoring them “we tried, it nearly cost us our lives.”

unamused, john b walks past the rest of the group in silence. when he gets to the door of the chateau he looks over his shoulder and nods for veronica to follow.

the girl is suddenly more attentive, climbing over the human embodiment of a golden retriever and padding her way into the house behind the older of the two.

“does the name redfield mean anything to you?” john b questions, passing a beer from the fridge and getting one for himself “like, the surname.”

veronica is quiet, her finger tracing the rim of the can as she goes through every crevice of her brain in search of any name even remotely close, there’s only one.

“chris redfield.” she answers with a nod, popping the tab of the can and taking a swig “but i don’t get how he’s involved.”

“why not? who is he!?”

“a video game character.”

with a huff of annoyance john b drags a chair across the kitchen to sit beside veronica, unscrewing his compass and placing it down on the table. the name ‘redfield’ is carved into the metal.

“we went back to the boat, found a motel key, whatever.” john b shrugs off the rest of their findings, more invested in whoever this redfield person was. “then i remembered when you showed me that note, the one in the compass. then i found this, figured you would know more than i do.”

veronica gently traced the carved metal, it was definitely their fathers scrawl, she’d memorised it from the note she read over and over and over.

it couldn’t be a coincidence, her fathers note asking her to meet, the matching compasses. now this?

“if i’m going to help you, i need to know..” she trailed off, biting at the edges of her nails as she wondered how to phrase her next question “does this have anything to do with dad dying?”

“he’s not dead.” john b’s voice is louder, stern. then his face softens and he tears his gaze away from the compass and to the floor “sorry, just, i know he’s out there. and this? this is proof.”

“john b, i get it.” the younger routledge speaks slowly, trying not to tread on any toes “you’re not the only one who wants him to be alive, that needs to see him. but i don’t see how this—”

“dad found the royal merchant. four hundred million dollars in gold, and he found it. he’s trying to tell us where to find it.”

veronica sighs, fingers rubbing at her tired eyes as she once again tried to think of any connection to any redfield. when it came to family, she only knew the bare minimum, her fathers name and her mothers maiden name.

what she did know, however, was the royal merchant. as a child her father sent her maps and books on birthdays and christmases without fail, until one day they stopped.

“you’ve got books and stuff, right?” she finally asked, not wanting to get either her or john b’s hopes up. a nagging feeling was telling her their dad was alive, but she knew he wouldn’t just up and abandon his son.

the walls of her fathers study feel like they’re closing in on her, john b let her inside and left her to it. veronicas hand ghosts over the framed maps and dusty books. blueprints of ships with her fathers messy scrawl written randomly around the paper.

there’s pictures of john b littered all over the office, all different life stages, a few feature jj and veronica can’t help but smile at the photo of two little boys holding a fish between them.

on the desk there’s a picture frame, immediately veronica recognises her mother, years younger and a gentle hand placed on her tummy. in the same frame, there’s an ultrasound that veronica almost bypassed as john b, but when she looked at the date it was a long time after he was born.

it was her ultrasound.

it was her in her moms tummy, framed and proudly placed right on her fathers desk.

everything comes back at once. finding the note, and in turn the years worth of letters her mother had hidden from her. the dateline special with john b pleading for information about his father, their father. the fight with her mother, packing a bag in the middle of the night and making her way to the address stored safely inside her compass.

the tears don’t register until they hit the glass of the frame, the last few weeks of pent up anger, sadness and hurt bubbling over from the flame that single photo sparked.

her dad loved her.

for years she’d heard about her absent father, then the absent father that passed when she was a baby. the father who didn’t want the responsibility of a child and ran away once he found out.

but the letters, the compass, this picture? john routledge loved the daughter he was forbidden from seeing, from the second he knew about her he loved her.

and now he was dead.

a sudden wave of anger rushes from her head to her toes, glass shattering when she throws the dusty old frame against the wall with a scream. papers fly and maps fall from the walls as she turns her fathers office into her own personal rage room.

the racket coming from the small room shakes the chateau, so it’s no surprise when the pouges come crashing through the door.

the pouges eyes briefly flash with fear when their eyes land on the destruction caused by the newest arrival, but it’s quickly replaced by a familiar sadness when veronica crumples to the ground, screaming as loud as her lungs would allow for them to get out.

they don’t know what’s wrong, but it doesn’t matter. veronica was now considered a friend, and they gathered that’s what she needed right about now.

jj is the first to enter, drawing closer slowly as if he were being cautious “it’s okay, ronnie.” he mutters softly, dodging shattered glass as he knelt beside her “we’re here, we got you.”

kiara, john b and pope are close behind, wrapping veronica in what could only be described as a group hug until her tears subsided.

taglist!

@ren-ni @marleymarleymarleymarley @miidollaasignnn @rainingcecilias @tanyaherondale @xspideyhollandx @sluterainterlude @loverofmarsss @xoxo-ada @gigistalked @genderlessmenance

[sexiestpodcastcharacter]

Sexiest Podcast Character — Unscripted Bracket — Round 4

Propaganda

Glenn Close (Dungeons & Daddies):

#Propaganda for Glenn Close: one of the other PCs mentions multiple times how hot he is #Actually several characters point it out but especially Henry #Also the only person in a podcast that has to put a disclaimer about not being a BDSM podcast to have had sex during the course of the show

We didn’t do hot Glenn summer for him to LOSE. Spoilers for his story but MORE PROPAGANDA FOR YOU:

Young hot rocker dilf

Loyal to his dead wife <3

Does in fact smoke weed

BARD!! HES A BARD. HE WAS LEAD GUITAR IN HIS BAND (that he was kicked out of)

His band was a Christmas cover band btw.

Literally the fandom had hot Glenn summer which consisted of drawing him being incredibly hot and sexy

Anti government (ofc)

Kind of cringefail (Disney adult) (was on dilfs of disneyland)

Young and sexy not your style? Then how about HIM AFTER YEARS LOCKED IN A TIME PRISON WITH A DAMN HANNIBAL MASK ??

Lost an eye and wears a fucking eyepatch

One incredibly buff arm

Has a pet rat named after his son <3

Immeasurable amounts of trauma in this man- becomes progressively more unhinged

OH OLD HUMAN BARD ISNT CUTTING IT? FINE

HE BECOMES A FUCKING DEMON

A COOL HOT ONE-EYED DEMON WHO WANTS TO KILL HIS DAD (also sexy)

HE CANONICALLY ENDS CHRISTIAN HELL VIA CHRISTMAS

IS ALSO WAY OVERLEVELED

Becomes a demon hunter for the rest of his existence

Also nonwhite !!! We are done with cringefail whiteboys !!!!!!!!!

I can’t put into words ok just know he is the best plz love him.

Listen, I don't know this other character but I've seem some good arguments for her However Consider Glenn Close winning through no effort of his own in a bullshit way despite being a dick is the most in character thing ever. He leveled up three times and got a crab mech, we GOT to give him this win, it's fitting

I don’t regulate if minors follow me or not bc I’m a pretty chill space but I hope the world is aware that’s the only reason I haven’t been downright nasty about Glenn close. I’m down bad. I’m NOT in the boat of ‘Glenn isn’t sexy but I want him to win bc it’s my fandom’. I would estimate I have 200+ drawings of Glenn on my phone that AREN’T safe for work. Way more that are. Where did they come from? That’s MY business. But I tell you this fact to assure you- Glenn IS sexy. I’m not voting to represent my fandom I’m voting out of TRUTH AND LOVE. IF YOU DON’T GET IT YOU DON’T GET IT!!! I just think my level of feral over this man is more powerful than y’all realize. If you don’t get his sex appeal that’s okay, but don’t doubt that this is my truth.

Okay but Glenn made a minivan cum by talking to her so

HE HAS A BOOK THAT HE MARKS X’S AND CHECKS FOR EVERY DAY TO SEE IF THAT DAY WAS A SUCCESS OR NOT. TO SEE IF HE DID GOOD THAT DAY. ITS ALMOST ENTIRELY X’S. HE WAS CUCKED OUT OF A SON. AND A DEAD WIFE. HE DIDN’T EVEN GET TO KILL HIS DAD IN REVENGE. There’s absolutely nothing going for him except his sex appeal in his life. Nobody he loved remembers him. He lost his eye. All he has is a pet rat and friends who admit they don’t really like him that much. He was kicked out of his own band. The band was named after him. He was kicked out of the Glenn Close trio. All he could do was deez nuts the big bad and be sexy. If nothing else, then pity him. Look in his eyes. Look at his heart and soul. Do you think pickman needs this to feel good about herself? Can she not accept a loss for the sake of a pathetic father? Can she shake hands with the minivan fucker and his human gun and just take the L on this one? He did not do the BDSM episode for this I’ll tell you what. Do this for my his sake. Do it for Nick Jr, who needs the prize money to pay for his rat snacks. Do it for his son. For Morgan. Ganbatte.

Mod Note: While I will still take "bad dads are sexy" propaganda and "bad dads aren't sexy" anti-propaganda, I kindly request no more discussion on whether or not he was a bad father. This is a sexypoll, not a parentingpoll. If you see a post you strongly disagree with, you can just not reblog it.

Mod Note 2: This tournament is about fictional podcast characters. Please do not vote for the real actress Glenn Close.

Lup (The Adventure Zone: Balance):

Is somehow the hot twin between her and Taako

Lup Bluejeans (née... Taaco? Tacco? Taco? Tako? who tf knows this is why I'm going with her husband's last name. doylistly she gets her last name from her brother whose last name is given as "Taako again but spelled differently"): Hot, funny, smart and undead. Is there anything else you could want in a woman?? Well, in case there is: she's also canonically trans

LUP IS THE HOTTEST. VOTE LUP.

[aceyalonso]

champagne & lace - LANCE STROLL

pairing : rival!lance stroll x fashion designer!reader

summary : the fashion industry has always been a dog-eat-dog world or a rival-fuck-rival world (for lance and y/n, at least)

warnings/notes : swearing, smut, nipple play, unprotected sex (always use a condom guys!), rough sex, fingering, praise kink, HEAVY degrading kink, oral (fem!receiving), spanking, biting, slight overstimulation, use of "good boy", creampie, multiple orgasms, porn with a little plot (most of the plot is after the smut), i lowkey don't understand the power dynamic here

word count : 2.3k

a/n : god i love this SO MUCH

main masterlist | kinktober masterlist

Lance stood in the middle of his opulent office, his eyes narrowed as he stared out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the sprawling city below. The sun was setting, casting an orange glow across the skyline, but Lance barely noticed. His mind was consumed with thoughts of Y/n, his rival in the fashion industry.

He had always admired her designs, even as he despised her. Her creations were innovative, daring, and always seemed to be one step ahead of his own. It was infuriating, and yet, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement every time he saw her latest collection.

A knock at the door startled him out of his thoughts. "Come in," he called out, his voice sharp and authoritative.

The door swung open, and there she was. Y/n stood in the doorway, her black hair falling in sleek waves around her face, her eyes hidden behind a pair of oversized sunglasses. She was wearing one of her own designs, a sleek black dress that hugged her curves in all the right places.

"Lance," she said, her voice cool and dismissive.

Y/n strode into the room, a bottle of champagne tucked under her arm. She let the door click shut behind her, her sunglasses still shielding her eyes. "Do you know why I'm here, Lance?" she asked, her voice dripping with contempt. "I won. I won Designer of the Year.:

Lance's jaw clenched as she sauntered over to his desk, setting the bottle down with a flourish. "Congratulations," he muttered, his voice thick with bitterness.

Y/n pulled out two glasses from a drawer and began pouring the champagne, the bubbles fizzing as they filled the crystal. "Thank you," she replied, handing him a glass. "But I'm afraid it's not just a celebration. I want to make sure you understand that this is the beginning of the end for you."

He took a sip of the champagne, the bitter taste mirroring his mood. He set the glass down on his desk, his eyes never leaving hers. "And what makes you think you've won?"

Y/n's lips curled into a smirk as she took a sip of her champagne. "Oh, Lance. You're so naive. I'm not just more talented than you; I'm redefining the fashion industry. My designs are fresh, innovative, and speak to a new generation. Meanwhile, you're just playing dress-up with daddy's money."

Lance's face flushed with anger, his hands clenching into fists on his desk. "You think you're some goddess, don't you? Just because you have some flashy designs and a few awards?"

Y/n laughed, a cold, harsh sound that echoed off the walls. "Flashy? Oh, you mean like your tacky, overpriced suits? Please, Lance. You're a joke in this industry. And now, with this award, everyone knows it."

She took another sip of her champagne, her eyes never leaving Lance's. "I'm better, Lance. Better at designing, better at business, and better at being a human being. You'll see. Soon, your name will be nothing more than a footnote in fashion history."

With that, she set her champagne flute down on his desk, the glass clinking against the polished wood. Then, she poked him in the chest, her finger jabbing at his heart like a dagger. "And I'll be the one to bury you."

Lance's face twisted into a mask of rage, his eyes blazing with fury. "You think you’re better than me? let’s see how much you can take.”

Lance's anger boiled over, his hands gripping Y/n's shoulders as he pulled her close. She gasped in surprise, her eyes widening behind her sunglasses. Before she could react, Lance crashed his lips against hers in a brutal, punishing kiss.

Y/n struggled against him at first, her hands pushing at his chest. But as the kiss deepened, she found herself melting into it, her body responding to his touch despite her mind's protests.

Lance's hands roamed over her curves, his fingers digging into her flesh as he claimed her mouth. Y/n's own hands slid up to tangle in his hair, tugging roughly as she kissed him back with equal fervor.

They stumbled backwards, Lance's desk creaking under their weight as he pushed her down onto the polished surface. Papers and pens scattered to the floor, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

"This is what you wanted, isn't it?" Lance growled against her lips, his hands already working at the zipper of her dress. "To prove you're better than me?"

Y/n's breath hitched as Lance's hands slid the zipper of her dress down, exposing her lacy black bra. "You're right," she hissed, her voice laced with desire and hatred. "I want to show you exactly how much better I am."

She reached for the buttons of his shirt, her fingers deftly undoing them one by one. Lance's chest heaved with anticipation, his muscles rippling under her touch. As the last button came undone, Y/n pushed the fabric aside, revealing his toned torso.

Lance's hands slid up her thighs, pushing her dress higher and higher until it bunched around her waist. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, tugging them down her legs. Y/n kicked them off, her eyes never leaving his as she reached behind her back to unclasp her bra.

He watched as Y/n unclasped her bra, her breasts spilling free. He couldn't resist the temptation, leaning down to take one of her nipples into his mouth. Y/n gasped, her back arching off the desk as he sucked and nibbled at the sensitive bud.

"See how pathetic you are," she taunted, her voice breathless. "Desperate for me, even though you're openly against my winning. You can't resist me, can you?"

Lance released her nipple with a pop, his lips curling into a smirk. "You're right," he admitted, his hands sliding down to grip her hips. "I can't resist you. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let you win."

Y/n pulled Lance up into a searing kiss, her lips curling into a wicked smile against his. "I'll make you a deal," she purred, her voice low and seductive. "If you can be a good boy and make me cum, I'll convince the board that the both of us will be mentioned as designers of the year."

Lance's eyes darkened with lust, his hands gripping her hips tighter. "And if I refuse?" he asked, his voice a low growl.

She traced a finger along his jawline, her nail digging into his skin. "Then you'll never hear the end of it. I'll make sure everyone knows what a fucking coward you are, too scared to even try."

Lance's pride bristled at her words, and he knew he couldn't back down. He nodded, his gaze never leaving hers. "Fine. I'll do it."

Y/n's smile widened, her eyes glinting with triumph. "Good boy," she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Now, let's see what you're made of."

He slid down her body, his hands gripping her thighs as he settled between her legs. He looked up at her, his eyes dark with desire, before leaning in and running his tongue along her slit.

Y/n's head fell back, a moan escaping her lips as Lance's tongue delved deeper, exploring her most intimate parts. His skillful ministrations sent shockwaves of pleasure through her body, her hips bucking against his face.

"That's it," she gasped, her fingers tangling in his hair. "Finally, something you're good at."

Lance growled against her, the vibrations adding to her pleasure. He redoubled his efforts, his tongue flicking over her clit as he slid two fingers inside her, curling them just right.

Y/n's moans grew louder, her body tensing as she neared her peak. "Don't you dare stop," she demanded, her voice strained.

He continued his assault, not daring to stop despite the degrading words. Y/n's insults only seemed to fuel his desire, his tongue and fingers working in perfect harmony.

"You're nothing but a leech off your dad's money," Y/n spat, her voice laced with contempt. "You're only good at tarnishing your family's company and eating me out. How pathetic is that?"

Lance ignored her words, focusing on the task at hand. His tongue flicked over her clit, his fingers pumping in and out of her. Y/n's body shook, her nails digging into his scalp as she cried out, her orgasm washing over her.

Lance continued to pleasure her, even as her body shuddered and went limp. When she finally came down from her high, Y/n lay panting, her chest heaving.

Y/n's eyes fluttered open, her expression a mix of satisfaction and false disappointment. "You know, I expected better from you," she said, her voice dripping with scorn. "You're still not good enough to be mentioned alongside me."

Lance's jaw clenched, the insults stoking the fire within him. He grabbed Y/n by the hips, flipping her over the desk so that she was bent over it, her ass in the air.

"Then I'll show you how good I can be," he growled, his hands sliding between her legs to find his throbbing erection.

Y/n let out a soft moan, her body trembling in anticipation. "Prove it, then," she challenged, her voice thick with desire. "Show me how you can be better than me."

Lance positioned himself at her entrance, his hands gripping her hips tightly. With a powerful thrust, he entered her, filling her completely. Y/n cried out, her body arching as he began to move, his hips slamming against her ass with a sense of urgency.

Lance's thrusts grew rougher with each passing moment, his hands leaving bruising imprints on Y/n's skin as he spanked her with each powerful impact. The desk creaked and shook beneath them, the force of his movements enough to dislodge her champagne flute from the desk, which shattered on the floor.

Their other champagne flute precariously balanced on the edge of the desk, swayed with each thrust. The bottle, too, began to slide closer and closer to the edge. Y/n's breaths came in ragged gasps, her body trembling with each impact.

Their bodies moved in a frenzied rhythm, driven by a need to prove dominance. Lance's teeth sank into Y/n's shoulder, his growls of frustration and desire muffled against her skin.

Her fingers clawed at the desk, her nails digging into the polished wood. "Harder," she cried out, her voice hoarse. "Show me how much better you are."

He obliged, his thrusts becoming almost punishing in their intensity. The desk shuddered and shook, the champagne bottle teetering on the edge, threatening to fall at any moment.

Y/n's cries grew louder, her body quivering with each impact. She could feel the pressure building within her, her orgasm approaching rapidly. "Don't you dare cum before me," she demanded, her voice strained.

Lance's only response was a low growl, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. The desk creaked and groaned, the champagne bottle finally losing its precarious balance and falling to the floor with a loud crash.

The sound seemed to spur them on, their movements becoming more frantic, more desperate. Y/n's nails dug into the desk, her knuckles turning white as she clung on for dear life.

As the champagne bottle crashed to the floor, the sound mingled with Y/n's scream of ecstasy as her orgasm crashed over her. Her body shook and convulsed, her walls clenching around Lance's throbbing member.

Lance groaned, his hips stuttering as he fought to maintain control. He wanted to prolong her pleasure, to make her cum again and again until she was a writhing, incoherent mess. But the feeling of her walls fluttering around him was too much, and with a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself deep inside her, his own orgasm overtaking him.

They collapsed onto the desk, their bodies slick with sweat and other fluids. Lance's chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his heart pounding in his ears. Y/n lay limp beneath him, her eyes closed, a satisfied smile on her face.

"Not bad," she murmured, her voice husky. "For a pathetic leech."

Lance chuckled breathlessly, his hand coming down on Y/n's ass in a playful spank. "I see you're still full of insults," he teased, his fingers trailing along her spine. "But you can't deny that was incredible."

Y/n's eyes fluttered open, a mischievous glint in them. "I suppose it was," she conceded, her voice laced with amusement. "But don't get too cocky. This doesn't change anything between us."

Lance leaned down, his lips brushing against her ear. "Oh, I wouldn't dream of it," he whispered, his voice low and seductive. "But I'm looking forward to our next encounter. Who knows, maybe next time I'll be the one walking away with the title of Designer of the Year."

Y/n scoffed, pushing Lance off her body gently. "You're delusional," she said, her voice laced with amusement. "But I'll be waiting to see if you can back up your words."

Lance smirked, watching as Y/n gathered her clothes, which had landed on his chair and the floor. He did the same, his movements slow and deliberate.

Once they were both dressed, Lance straightened his tie, his eyes never leaving Y/n's. "Consider this a challenge, Y/n," he said, his voice low and intense. "I'll see you at the top."

She nodded, her expression unreadable. "Until then, Lance," Y/n replied, her voice a soft purr.

Y/n picked up her phone and dialed a number as she spoke to Lance. "You know, you should probably get a janitor to clean up the champagne and glass," she said, her eyes never leaving his. "Wouldn't want anyone to slip and fall, would we?"

Lance's eyes narrowed, a flicker of annoyance crossing his face. "I'll take care of it," he said, his voice tight.

She nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "Good." With that, she turned and walked out of his office, leaving him alone with the mess they had created.

As Y/n walked out of Lance's office, the ringing tone disappeared, before a voice greeted her. She answered it immediately, "Hello? Fernando? Can I talk to you about the Designer of the Year award? I have someone in mind that... deserves equal recognition."

taglist

for all post; @nepobbylver @wobblymug @xoscar03 @irishmanwhore

kinktober taglist; @cloud-55 @emryb @sie17136 @jaimeleannavanlloman @wosof1 @wholetmewritethat @glitterbitch1 @under-seasoned-pasta @sinners-98-world

[trashytracktales]

omg omg your work is so good oml. quick request: anything for logan sargeant because i CRAVE that man in my bones frfr

Late for Logan | LS²

💌 REQUESTED by anon ──── Sorry in advance, but it's your fault for giving me that type of freedom 🤍

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

𐙚 summary ──── After being dropped mid-season, Logan returns home overwhelmed with frustration and self-doubt. Luckily, he has her, and they manage to find solace in each other, reminding him that it’s never too late to rebuild.

𐙚 pairing ──── Logan Sargeant x she/her reader

𐙚 rating ──── explicit

𐙚 category ──── F/M

𐙚 warnings ──── 18+, emotional distress, mentions of career challenges, vulnerability & emotional support, fluff & smut, descriptive language, mature/sexual content, unprotected sex, swearing, established relationship.

𐙚 word count ──── 3.5k

𐙚 date ──── Dec. 5, 2024

𐙚 a/n ──── If you miss Logan say I ☝🏻😔

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

THE AIR IS tinged with the faint aroma of Logan’s favorite cheat meal sitting under its foil wrapper. She’s set everything up exactly as he’d like it: snacks in a tidy line on the table, his favorite series queued on the TV, and a stack of games ready in case he wants to lose himself in a familiar world, just to escape the real one.

She tried her best to bring him some comfort, though it also helped her keep her mind occupied. After Logan dropped the bomb on her, her blood has been boiling ever since. She knows there is no point in being angry, because as he said, what's done is done. But that won't stop her from cursing the name of that entire garage of snakes.

The clock creeps toward 2 a.m. She's tired, but she doesn’t let herself drift. Not tonight.

Tonight is for Logan.

She perches on the edge of the couch, fiddling with the edge of a blanket, waiting for the sound of his key in the lock, while aimlessly scrolling through her feed.

When the door finally clicks open and Logan steps inside, his movements are heavy, yet cautious.

His bag slung low on one shoulder, all the lights are low, and he doesn’t seem to notice the setup she’s spent hours on. He doesn’t call out, either. Doesn’t move toward the living room. He simply heads toward the kitchen, thinking she's been asleep for hours now.

Her stomach twists when she hears the noisy thud of his bag hitting the floor. She expects him to walk back, to see the small effort she’s made to make him feel loved, seen, and appreciated, but the silence is louder than ever. Then, there’s the crash of something — a plate or maybe a glass — and a muffled curse.

Quietly, she stands up from the couch, stepping toward the doorway.

She finds Logan on the kitchen floor, his knees pulled to his chest, and his head in his hands. His frame trembles, wracked with uneven breaths that she realizes, with a sinking feeling, are sobs.

His frustration spills into his voice, sharp and broken, as he tries to keep quiet. “A failure… such a fucking failure.”

Tears burn behind her eyes as she watches him fall apart. She hadn’t imagined it would be this bad — she knew his season so far sacked, but it wasn't always his fault, and he seemed okay for the most part. Although, Logan had always been good at pretending he was fine. Tonight, though, there’s no mask. Just raw pain and anger and exhaustion and frustration.

“Hey,” she says, her voice soft, yet slightly shaking.

His head snaps up, his red-rimmed eyes locking with hers. “Shit. Did I wake you, baby?” his voice cracks, the words rushed, as though he’s trying to cover the vulnerability she’s already seen.

She steps closer the moment she sees him trying to get up, her bare feet cool against the tiles. “No, I wasn't… I wanted to surprise you,” her voice falters, and she kneels beside him, reaching for his hand. “I'm so sorry, Lo. I didn’t know you were hurting this much.”

He shakes his head. “I didn’t want you to see me like this,” he mutters, scrubbing a hand across his face. “I’m supposed to—” his words choke off, hitting his head with the bridge of his palm, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do anymore.”

“Oh, pretty,” she grips his hand tightly, pulling it away from his self-inflicted punishment. “It's going to be okay. You're home now.”

“I’ve worked so hard for this,” he whispers, ignoring her pitiful look. “And now it all went to shit, because I couldn't get it together. Everything… gone.”

Her heart breaks for him. At the same time, she's offended by his statement. After all, she's still here; there's still something. But it's not about her, so she pulls him into her arms, without thinking about the technicalities of his affirmation. His body folds into hers like a little child, his head pressing into the crook of her neck.

He tries not to cry, but it's been months since he's been suppressing those tears, thinking he wasn't allowed to lash out, because that's not what strong people do.

It doesn't matter.

She's still here, and she is holding him together when he feels like he’s falling apart.

“It’s not gone,” she whispers, her hand stroking through his hair. “Baby, it was a shitty team, anyway. You’ve still got so much ahead of you.”

“Not in F1, I don't,” he reminds her bitterly.

She pulls back enough to look into his eyes, her thumb brushing away the tears on his cheek. “So what? At least you can say you've been there. You did great things. Things that other people can only dream of. And no matter what happens, you'll always have that. Isn't that amazing?”

His lip quivers, looking at her as if he sees her for the first time. Again. As if he's falling in love. Again.

“You deserve someone who’s not falling apart at the moment.”

The girl frowns. “Shut up. I choose you, Logan. All of you. Every single day,” she says with so much conviction in her voice that he almost believes her.

He exhales shakily, his shoulders slumping. “I might need you more than you need me.”

“Is that supposed to scare me?” she asks, raising her eyebrows in confusion. “If anything, we'll have more time. More time to figure things out. More time to put everything in order. More time for us.”

Logan nods, realizing she's not entirely wrong. Though it sucks, maybe all the bad happened now to make more room for the good that is about to come.

They stay like that for a long time, tangled on the cold kitchen floor, until his breathing steadies and the tension in his body ebbs. He feels sorry she had to see him like that, but at least all the shame subsided. For now.

Next, she pulls him to his feet, their hands still entwined, and finally leads Logan into the living room.

His eyes widen when he sees the setup. “Baby, this looks amazing. You shouldn't have…”

“I wanted to,” she admits softly.

He pulls her into a tight hug, burying his face in her shoulder. “I don’t deserve you.”

“Stop with that already,” she whispers. “Or else, I'll eat all your food in front of you.”

THE CLOCK ON the bedside table reads 3:34 a.m. when they finally settle in bed, under the blanket. The TV hums softly in the background, playing Logan's favorite series, though neither of them is paying much attention.

He's still deep in thought, and she's still worried of how is all this going to actually affect him in the long run.

Logan is lying across her, his head resting on her stomach, one arm draped over her thighs. His body feels heavier than usual, burdened by the weight of the day. Her fingers move lazily through his hair, a repetitive, soothing motion that almost puts him to sleep.

No one says anything; they don't need to. She knows Logan. Knows the storm raging inside his mind despite the quiet exterior. And he knows her — patient, calm, and supportive.

Everything he's not, at the moment.

Suddenly, he tightens his grip on her thigh, his knuckles brushing the soft skin. The motion is unconscious, but the pressure betrays the frustration that's still boiling inside him. She inhales sharply under the force of his hand, the pressure taking her by surprise, a little sound slipping from her lips before she can stop it. It’s enough to make his head lift slightly, enough to draw his attention.

Logan freezes for a moment, but then something in him snaps. His heart starts racing, his blood travels faster throughout his body, and his mouth goes dry. He shifts, sliding his head beneath her oversized shirt — his shirt, that she chose to sleep in for the night. His lips find the soft plane of her stomach, planting warm, deliberate kisses against her skin.

“Logan,” she whispers his name, half a question and half a plea.

He doesn’t respond, not with words. Instead, his hands trail upward, gripping her waist firmly, his thumbs brushing just beneath the curve of her breasts. When his mouth moves higher, kissing just beneath her ribs, his hand slides under the shirt, fully cupping her flesh. The touch is possessive, almost reverent.

“My everything,” he murmurs against her skin, his voice raw. It gives her goosebumps, but she doesn't have time to process his words too in depth, because feeling him like that occupies her entire brain capacity. “The perfect design. Smooth, precise, so responsive, baby. I should’ve been able to handle you better.”

Her breath catches in her throat. She understands pretty quick that he’s not just talking about her body, and knows he’s still thinking about everything he feels he’s failed at. “Logan, stop—”

“No,” he interrupts, his voice an octave deeper. “No one gets it, but you. If I’d just had the right tools, the right… Fuck. If I’d been allowed to drive you the way I wanted to, I could’ve done it. I could’ve taken you further than anyone else ever could.”

On one hand, it's hard for her to hear him talking like that — as if he's gone mad. But Logan is right about one thing: she understands. She does, because she's been a first row witness since day one. So, even if it hurts, she lets his words sink in, lets him vent the pent-up frustration in his own way. It's the least she can do.

His hands tug her shirt over her head, leaving her bare before him. His gaze darkens as he looks at her, his lips parting slightly.

“You’re so beautiful,” Logan whispers, acting like it's the first time he sees her naked. His hands run over her sides, mapping her curves as if committing them to memory. “The perfect design,” he repeats, “And I’m the only one who gets to race you. Is that right, baby?”

She feels the weight of his words in her chest, the underlying desperation beneath his need for control. She nods, because there's truth behind them — they belong to each other, a silent pact they made right at the beginning of their relationship. Besides, he needs it — not just her body, but her trust, her willingness to let him take the lead. It’s his way of clawing back the confidence that’s been stripped from him so prematurely.

“I’m here,” she whispers, her voice steady. “I love you. I’m proud of you. I'm with you.”

She would stop talking, but Logan moves with a hunger she’s never seen before, his lips tracing a path down her body; it makes her head spin with things she should've told him sooner. His hands grip her thighs, spreading them wide as if he’s opening the doors to a new track, one only he has the right to drive on.

“You feel like silk,” he mutters, mostly to himself, gently tracing his palms over her skin. “So warm, so smooth… God, the handling is unreal.”

She arches into his touch, her fingers finding his hair again as his mouth moves lower, claiming her inch by inch. He’s precise, knowing exactly where to push, where to pull back, where to accelerate — he's so good at it. Why did they think he wasn't?

“It’s like you’re built for me, my love.”

She’s lost in him, in the way he talks, and the way he makes her feel like the most coveted machine in the world.

Logan’s frame hovers over hers, his weight pressing her into the mattress as he captures her lips in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s raw and unrestrained, his need pouring into every brush of his mouth against hers. She doesn’t fight it, doesn’t hold anything back. She lets him take her in every way he wants, surrendering completely because she knows he needs this.

His hands are firm on her, no longer tentative as they roam over her body. Her breath hitches when his fingers curl into her hips, holding her so tightly she knows she’ll find faint bruises by the time they're done. But she doesn’t mind — she loves the unfiltered and unapologetic Logan, the fire in his touch telling her everything he hasn’t said.

“I'm glad you finally see it,” she whispers against his lips, her voice soft but encouraging. “Who you truly are.”

Logan pulls back just enough to look at her, his chest heaving, his blue eyes darkened with intensity. “Yeah? Who am I, then?”

Her fingers trace along his jaw, tender even as her words cut straight to the heart of him. “My strong, beautiful boy,” she says without hesitation, “You’re everything I’ve always seen in you.”

It's her honesty that gets to him, making him tightening his grip on her thighs and pulling her legs around his waist as if to anchor himself. He peels off her panties, discarding them on the floor, and she wastes no time helping him get rid of his sweatpants. His skin burns as their bare chests touch again, making her moan softly at the contact with his hard muscles.

She feels his hand traveling down between their bodies, so she breaks the kiss to look at him. Logan hesitates, his grip loosening for a fraction of a second as he shifts his weight.

“What's wrong, baby?” he asks, confusion evident in his voice.

In response, she reaches out to grab his cock, pumping it deftly before guiding it to her entrance. She lets out a short whine at the initial contact, feeling him hard and leaking at the tip, as she helps him sink in slowly, savoring every inch.

“No foreplay tonight. Please,” she whimpers the words out, wrapping her legs tighter around him.

“Are you su—fuck,” he breathes against her shoulder, his body suddenly on fire.

“Promise,” she moans, feeling him stretching her pussy wide in ways she didn't experience before.

Logan grunts, pushing deep inside her, full and heavy, exhaling in gasps the moment he's all in. He feels her so tight around him that he can't help but thrust a couple of times, pulling only halfway out, just to spread her wetness all over his length. The thickness of his cock takes her breath away while it keeps her open for him, and she makes a mental note to let him take her like this more often from now on, even though she expects to be sore in the morning.

“You're so good to me, baby,” he chokes out. “So tight, I just…” his words die in his throat when she raises her hips to meet his.

Logan needs tremendous self-control, but that doesn't translate into how his slow, hard thrust make her body slide against the sheets. The image displayed under him is rather obscene, his eyes following her breasts bouncing up and down as a result of his powerful movements. It makes his mouth water, so he attaches it on one of her nipples, taking the other one between his fingers.

“Lo…” she exhales sharply, arching her back against the mattress.

His thrusts grow rougher, more insistent, his hips snapping against hers with a force that sends shocks of pure pleasure through their bodies.

She cries out, but it’s not in protest. Her nails dig into his back, her head falling back against the pillows as she lets herself drown in him. “That’s it,” she gasps, her voice shaky but full of want. “Don’t hold back, baby, yes. I want all of you.”

Her praise spurs him on, his pace quickening as if he’s trying to make up for every moment he’s spent doubting himself, every ounce of self-restraint he’s forced upon himself this season. Each thrust is deliberate, punishing in the best way, and she meets him halfway, giving herself over completely.

“Shit, you like this, don't you?” he growls, his voice rough as his hand slides up her body, gripping her breast more firmly.

“Mhm, yes... yes, you feel so good,” she moans, tracing her palms over his back. “I love every part of you, Lo. Every damn part.”

Her words push him further, and he leans down, capturing her lips in a kiss so fierce it leaves her breathless. His hand moves to tangle in her hair, tugging just hard enough to make her whimper, and he groans at the sound.

“And I love your pretty noises, baby. Keep making them for me, and I won't last much longer,” says Logan, breathing wetly against her skin, his cock dragging against her walls, and thrusting back in full force to show her that he means it.

She squeezes her eyes in pleasure, the pressure building rapidly inside her stomach.

His pace becomes erratic, every movement driven by pure emotion — frustration, need, love — all colliding in a chaotic duet of moans and whimpers. He’s rough, but not careless, every touch and thrust a declaration of everything he feels but can’t put into words.

That just makes her clench her involuntarily around him, dripping wet every time he pulls out only to shove himself back in. The slick sound is accompanied by their heavy breaths blending together, and the final result almost pushes both of them over the edge.

Except Logan's movements are getting restrained, his grip on her hips tight but trembling as if he's holding himself back. She feels it in the way his body hesitates, the tension coiling in his muscles but never fully released. It’s like he’s afraid to lose the last ounce of control, afraid to let go of the last thread of composure he’s clinging to.

“Lo,” she whispers, her voice cutting through the haze between them. He doesn’t stop fucking into her, but his eyes flicker up to hers, confusion mingling with the intensity in his gaze.

She cups his face with both hands, her thumbs gently brushing against his cheekbones. “It’s okay,” she says softly, her voice laced with reassurance.

His brows furrow, his thrusts stalling for a heartbeat. “No, baby.”

She tilts her head, holding his gaze steady. “Please. Whatever you’re feeling, let it out. I can take it, love. You know I can.”

He buries his face in her neck, his breath hot and ragged against her skin as he drives into her harder, rougher, with an urgency that leaves her gasping.

Her fingers slide down his back, nails scraping lightly against his skin as she holds him closer. “My perfect boy,” she murmurs, her voice small but encouraging. “I’ve got you.”

The sound he makes is guttural, almost pained, as if her words are the final push he needed. He drives inside her with a desperation that’s raw and unfiltered, pouring every ounce of frustration, anger, and self-doubt into fucking his girl. His girl, who was always there. His girl, who loves him, needs him, trusts him enough to let him ruin her.

No questions asked.

Suddenly, it's too much. All of it.

Logan stills inside her, wrapping his hand around her neck as their eyes meet.

Watching him come while his hand tightens possessively around her becomes quickly her favorite thing in the world. He looks like a dream, all drenched in sweat, floating above her like an angel, his chest heaving rapidly. His mouth falls open, letting out a noise so melodious, that she is sure it has the power to wake her up from the dead.

At that, it doesn't take much for her to follow him, coating them both in their release. He thrusts a few more times, lazily, before crashing on top of her, his face buried in her shoulder.

Right after, she feels the first shuddering sob escape his chest.

“Lo? Baby, look at me,” she whispers, her arms wrapping around him instinctively.

“I’m sorry,” he chokes out, his voice muffled against her skin. “I’m so sorry.”

Tears prick her eyes, and she strokes his hair gently, her own voice shaking. “No. Don’t ever be sorry.”

His sobs grow quieter, but they don’t stop, and soon she’s crying with him, their tears mingling in the quiet intimacy of the room.

“It’s going to be alright,” she whispers, her lips brushing against his temple. “I'm with you, baby,” she reminds him all over again, determined to keep doing it until he believes her. “And it's never too late to start over.”

He clings to her like a lifeline, his fingers digging into her sides as if afraid to let go. “I don't… know where to start.”

“We'll figure it out,” she says firmly, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye. “You’re not done, Logan. Not by a long shot. Yeah?”

He stares at her, his eyes red and glassy, but there’s a flicker of something else there now — hope, gratitude, and so much love.

“Thank you,” says Logan, his voice cracking under the weight of his own doubts.

She presses a kiss to his forehead, holding him as close as possible. “Always, my love.”

Thank you for reading!

None of my works are available for reposting on other platforms. Reblogs, likes, and comments are deeply appreciated ♥︎

© trashy track tales, 2024

[marvelwinchester67]

I’m gonna need 5-10 business days to recover from the Hazbin Hotel season 1 finale.

Hazbin Hotel episode 7 and 8 spoilers (because I’m going feral) and my thoughts/unhinged feelings about it because no one else can understand quite like tumblr can

Read at your own risk

What. The. Fuck. Guys.

WHAT DOES IT MEAN?!

IT WAS NIFFTY WHO KILLED ADAM?!

AND SIR PENTIOUS?! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?! IM NOT OKAY BUT IM GLAD HE IS

Lucifer “now I’m gonna fuck you” Morningstar everyone (plz I love him so much)

So Carmilla knew who Vaggie really was and just, didn’t give a shit? Love her for that

I love Rosie. Her design, her personality, she’s amazing. She was so sweet to Charlie when she didn’t have to be and actually listened to her and encouraged her (points for the relationship advice)

So Alastor is on someone’s leash and he’s trying to wiggle his way out of it, the Vees are plotting (of course they are), and LUTE KNOWS LILITH?! THEY MADE SOME KIND OF DEAL?!

I’m so so curious about how Lute and Lilith know each other and why Lute would want her to deal with her daughter

But this implies that Adam had a previous deal with Lilith regarding something we don’t know yet, since Lute said she was in charge now that he was dead and that their deal pertained to her now

ALSO?! You’re telling me that’s what Adam looked like under his mask?! (I still loathe him but lowkey he was hot I’ll be honest right now)

Sir Pentious telling Cherri he loved her was so sweet

I soaked up every single scrap of Huskerdust I could within those last two episodes they own my soul and I’m so excited to see more of them in season 2

So it looks like Vox thinks Alastor is missing again which is why he’s plotting with the other Vees, but Alastor showed back up at the hotel during repairs so that might not last long

Alastor’s fight with Adam was so good holy shit omfg plz give me more of Alastor’s powers that shield was so cool and his verse in that final song gave me chills like, oh my god he was so mad and I’m here for it

And Lucifer showing up and telling Charlie she changed his heart and mind about the sinners? He is so precious plz protect this duck loving man at all costs

Charlie and Vaggie’s More Than Anything Reprise? Please I am sobbing they love each other so much it hurts

To top it all off- Alastor having beef with literally everyone will never not be funny. Fucking Susan? Are you kidding me. I was laughing so hard. Rosie seems like she deals with Susan a lot and Alastor calling her an Ornery Bitch was so fucking funny for no reason.

Everyone has beef with Susan now.

There is so much I have to say about this show and I could literally talk about it for years but for now I will be repeatedly listening to the soundtrack and impatiently waiting for season 2 because I no longer have the will to live after I sobbed on my bedroom floor over this show. VIVIENNE I AM IN YOUR WALLS-

[dantakeyoman]

pls part 2 to neteyam defending you 🫡🤍 but this time i'd love a continuation to motherly neytiri tending to reader!! and her hinting at the fact she had seen them and their son share a kiss after trying to find out all the commotion once hearing overprotective jake lose his cool at ao'nung!

Jake Is Pissed At Ao'nung, and Neytiri Talks To You About Your Kiss With Neteyam After All the Commotion (SFW)

Part 2 of "Neteyam Defending You"

CW: my dude Jake goes crazy, starts talking really freely to the Olo'eyktan, Neytiri is so nice and caring, best wing-woman ever, jake x reader (platonic; father-daughter-ish)

"What the hell is the matter with you, boy?! I oughta fight you right now!" Jake shouted as his eyebrows furrowed, the boy doing his best to try and understand the angry, English words.

Jake always switched to English when he was mad.

It was instinct, and English had more expressive cuss words than Na'vi anyway.

"Mawhey, My Jake," Neytiri whispered, quietly stepping in front of her husband and resting her hands on his chest, her eyes flicking to the crowd of village people that started to form.

"Please. The people are watching."

The entire Sully family stood behind you and Jake, on one side of the walkway, while Ao'nung, his friends, and the rest of the Metkayina stood on the other.

It looked as if both sides were warring.

"Let 'em watch. This shit needs to be dealt with," Jake growled, carefully moving her out the way and getting ready to scream at Ao'nung some more.

"What seems to be the problem here?" Tonowari asked calmly, him and Ronal breaking through the crowd and stepping to the front.

His tone was calm, but you could see on his face that he was clearly angered with the fact that his on was injured, and the outsiders shouting at him.

"The problem here? I'll show you the problem," Jake whipped his head over to you, giving a firm nod.

You nodded back with a sigh, stepping in the middle of the clan divide and lifting your arms, putting all of your injuries on display.

The Metkayina gasped, and Neteyam had to be held back by Lo'ak and Kiri.

He hadn't realized the extent of the damage when he was carrying you, but looking at it now, he should've hit Ao'nung twice as hard.

You had hand-shaped bruises all over your arms, and one on your ankle from Ao'nung's demonstration.

Your face had a large bruise on it's right cheek, and a bloody nose from being dropped on your face.

And the statement piece of it all, the nasty, pillow-sized bruise on your side, which was leaking blood from Ao'nung's toenails.

"Your words. Treat these Forest people like brothers and sisters. I don't see this shit as very familial," Jake spat, pointing roughly at Rotxo.

"That little shit managed to squeal about everything done to (y/n). The grabbing! The kicking! THE KIDS DROPPED HER ON HER FACE FOR FUCK'S SAKE!"

Your breath hitched, silently thanking Eywa that the Metkayina did not have good English.

Ronal and Tonowari quickly turning to their son in anger, their gaze practically burning holes into the boy.

"Is this true?" the two hissed, no longer masking their rage.

And the look of absolute fear on his face was the icing on the cake.

It almost made you feel sorry for him.

....Almost.

"ANSWER!" Tonowari shouted.

"YES! It's true!" He admitted, hanging his head.

The entire crowd gasped, and Tsireya did her best to hold back tears as she looked at your injured form.

You were a very nice girl, and an incredible friend. You didn't deserve this in the slightest.

She could not believe her brother for doing such a horrible thing.

"My kids come back to me nearly everyday talking about how this kid is constantly harassing them-." "He calls us all freaks," Tuk sadly chimed, glassy eyed as she tucked her face into her mother's side, Neytiri taking deep, full breaths to keep her composure.

"But for the sake of peace, I let it slide. Well all that stops tonight! I want it to be made perfectly clear that if your son, or ANY of his little friends so much as lift a finger to ANY of my children, they will have to answer to me!" Jake finalized, resting a hand on your shoulder at the word children.

It almost brought you to tears.

You felt so loved, and protected, and safe. It me your heart swell with joy.

"Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!" Rotxo and the other boys frantically agreed, terrified that, not only did they witness Toruk Makto's anger, but were the direct cause of it.

Everyone turned to Ao'nung to hear his response, but he stayed silent, dazed.

"SPEAK, BOY!" Tonowari shouted once again, pushing the boy forward with his staff.

"Understood!" he cried, turning his gaze down to the floor.

"Good," Jake huffed, un-puffing his chest.

"You have brought shame to this family. Go to the marui. You are grounded," Tonowari glared at his son, pointing his staff back to their home.

Ao'nung nodded, quickly turning around and speed-walking over, Tsireya following behind, ashamed.

Jake scoffed at the display, before turning to you with a softened face. "Now you. Are you okay? Wanna go get patched up?"

"Yes, sir," you nodded with a smile, quietly wincing from the pain of your bruised cheek.

"If you would accept, I could heal your daughter for you," Ronal stepped forward, apologetically bowing.

"I believe your family has done enough for tonight. I will handle this," Neytiri glared, stepping in front of you.

Ronal clenched her jaw, but nodded, turning around to follow her husband home.

"Come, child," Neytiri smiled at you, carefully taking your hand and leading you to the marui, Tuk and Kiri following close behind.

They entered, and the boys tried coming in after, but Neytiri stopped them.

"We must talk. Alone," Neytiri knowingly looked up at Jake, who nodded.

"That's alright. I gotta talk to these two, anyway," he agreed, resting his hands on the brothers' shoulders and leading them to a more secluded part of the island.

When Neytiri turned around, you were already sitting down, Kiri preparing the salves for your bruises.

She walked over and sat criss-crossed in front of you, picking up a special leaf to clean off your blood.

"My (y/n), are you alright?" she calmly asked, lightly swiping the blood from your nose.

"Yes. It looks worse than it feels. Truly," you assured, the loud wince you let out when Kiri touched a bruise quickly debunking your statement.

Neytiri sighed, carefully lifting your arm to wipe the blood from your side.

She needed to lift your spirits.

"You know," she started, a smile growing on her lips. "You and Neteyam remind me of me and his father when we were young."

You practically choked on the air you were breathing, the coughing fit you were sent into not feeling the best on your ribs.

Though it seemed like perfect entertainment for Kiri and Tuk, whose uproarious laughter could be heard from the next marui.

"I am serious," Neytiri politely laughed, halting her swipes on your side with a smile so you could catch your breath.

"He may not act like it, but your father used to be just as reckless as Lo'ak, maybe a little more."

"Really?!" Tuk asked, amazed.

"No way," Kiri scoffed with a smile.

Out of all the times he had scolded that boy, he was just as bad.

"But he was strong. He had a strong heart. No fear. Almost never hesitating to fight if needed," Neytiri continued, starting to smooth the salve over your rib.

"I see this in Neteyam."

She glanced up from her work, looking you in the eyes.

"For me, I was always calm. I wasn't as quick to fight as he, but I was still strong, and determined."

She looked back down.

"I see this in you."

Your cheeks turned a dark blue hue, despite the splashes of purple and red alredy there.

"The Great Mother knows all, and I feel she did not make this resemblance for no reason."

Was she saying what you think she's saying?

"Neytiri, what are you-?" "I am saying you and Neteyam have my blessing," she smiled.

Your breath hitched.

"Oh! I didn't....we weren't.....I wasn't-!" "No sense in denying it, (y/n). The whole clan saw you swapping spit with the boy as you came over," Kiri shrugged with a smile, teasingly poking you in the cheek, wary of your injuries.

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands, embarrassed.

"Oh, stop," Neytiri chuckled, tucking a stray braid behind your ear. "I think it is cute."

bonus !!

Jake sat down on the sandy shore, Neteyam and Lo'ak sitting on either side of him, concerned.

"You two listen, and listen good," he started seriously, his tone leaving no room for games.

The two nodded, and the man continued.

"I want you two to watch that Ao'nung kid, and his little group of friends, too. Be nice for the sake of peace, but keep your heads on a swivel. If they say anything to your sisters or (y/n), you tell me, I'll sort it out."

Jake did a quick perimeter check, making sure no one was listening in.

"But if any of those little shits so much as touch a hair on their head, I give both of you full permission to beat the living shit out of each and every one of them. Don't worry about the repercussions, I'll take the heat. But that's gonna be the new protocol from now on."

The two boys nodded firmly, giving their father a serious look.

"Understood," Neteyam agreed.

He was glad his dad was giving him permission, but to be honest, he was going to end up doing this anyway.

Today, he made a silent oath that he was never going to let you get hurt on his watch ever again.

"Alright," Lo'ak smirked, cracking his knuckles with his fist.

"And as for you," Jake started up again, turning to Neteyam.

The boy gulped, bracing himself for a scolding of some sort.

"Who taught you how to kiss like that?" his father smiled, giving his son a proud pat on the back.

"Oh, yeah! Those two were going at it! They were like-." Lo'ak jumped up from his seat, hugging himself and making kissing noises.

"Aye!" Neteyam waved off with a smile, that familiar heat rising to his cheeks.

Jake chuckled at his boys' antics, throwing his arms around each one and pulling them into a hug.

This was what a family was for. Protecting one another, caring for one another, healing one another.

Jake had no doubt in his mind that his family was, and truly is, his fortress.

[voxboxturnedghost]

Hi, I would like to ask for a smut from Adam x fem Reader, he takes Lucifer's wife so he can get back at Lucifer I love your posts

THANKS ANON

warnings: previous lucifer x reader. unprotected sex (don't do this). degradation if you squint? like a brief mix of both degradation and praise.

- Lucifer's pretty ex-wife, almost looking more like an angel than a demon, which was one thing that Adam found pretty appealing. The attractive appearance, with the subtle demonic features? Badass. He was into it.

- Puts his plan into action. He knows usually he can get any girl he wants, he's fucking Adam, but you're gonna be special. You were Lucifer's bitch (affectionately), so he wants to make this BIG.

- He plays it real cool. Lucifer almost hands you over himself, sending you to a meeting Adam had requested instead of showing up himself. This was the second time Lucifer had bailed like this now, what a little bitch. He can't help but feel lucky that even after splitting, you were still on okay enough terms for Lucifer to ask you such a favour.

- You have a little chat, and he plays a few harmless little jokes on you. It's been a while since you've laughed this way, and you confide in Adam that Lucifer wasn't the most social. You missed him. He stayed locked away in his room, and you got a small "hi, sweetheart" now and again, but it just wasn't the same. Not compared to how he used to hold you in his arms, sing songs to you, like a fairytale type of love. You missed that. Which was why you left him.

- Adam couldn't help but scoff at this, he should've expected as much from Lucifer.

- "Y'know, he missed out on some good shit. You're a fuckin' hottie. I don't know what he was doing ignoring a babe like you." He says. It's meant to be... comforting? Maybe? In his own way. You're a little confused, but also a little flattered?

- You two start to gossip like friends would, and you become more comfortable with the man sitting a few seats away from you, completely forgetting about the business portion of this meeting (a.k.a. the bullshit Adam made up to even get the meeting in the first place).

- He brags about himself a bit, and you can't help but find it the littlest bit charming, in a funny way. He talks about his band, how he "fuckin' shreds like a badass" on the guitar, and how the fangirls go crazy for him.

- "I'm not too interested in them though. I have my eye on someone else. I mean- yeah, they're cute 'n all, but nothing compared to this one chick I've been thinkin' about lately. She's somethin' real special." he explains.

- "A cute little lady whose shitty ex-husband left her feelin' so lonely... and unsatisfied too, I bet."

- That's when you catch on, taking notice of the subtle flirtatious smirk that plays on his lips. You feel your cheeks burn the slightest bit, and you turn your head away, a bit speechless.

- Adam knows he has you now.

- A few sweet words later, and steps closer that you didn't even really seem to notice him taking, too busy focusing on his (slightly vulgar) flattery, you now feel each other's breath against your faces. The moment is tense, and his lips, now exposed after he removed his mask, ghosting over yours.

- The mask was quite the reveal. But you had to admit, he was not at all bad looking. He wasn't exceptional, but he didn't need to be. You liked him just the way he was. In this small meeting he had shown you more kindness and attention than your husband had in a while.

- One thing led to the next. A flirtatious glance, a gentle brush against each other's hand, and next thing you know, you're laying on your back on the meeting table, Adam between your legs, his lips on your neck.

- He can't help but leave you absolutely covered in hickeys. It's nice to be possessive over something. Someone who's his now. He finally turned the tables on Lucifer, and that thought can't help but bring a smug grin to his face.

- When he was joking around earlier, calling himself the "dick master" you thought he was kidding.

He was not.

- He fucking pounds you into the table, one hand on your waist, the other on your tits, feelin' you up and teasin' you to get you all flustered. He wonders how long it's been since you felt this good, but don't worry, he'll make you forget all about that.

- He can't deny that you feel (ironically enough) fucking heavenly. It's like he can't get enough of it. Not only is the sex itself amazing, he just can't get enough of the victorious feeling of getting back at Lucifer.

- Trust me when I say he has you SCREAMING. He's so fucking glad he didn't use the hologram, instead taking the risk of going down to Hell himself, just for the opportunity to feel that cunt on his cock.

- "That's a good fuckin' bitch."

- He honestly can't even quite help the filth that just comes out of his mouth so naturally, his language vulgar but.. kinda hot?

- He can't help but cum inside you and fill you up, groaning a drawn out "Fuck yes." as he hovers over you on the table.

- He's pretty happy with his new badass demon bitch by his side, and his visits to Hell on "business" become a lot more frequent. The business in question is just him fucking you in every possible position, leaving you covered in hickeys, kisses, and bite marks. You're all his now. Suck it, Lucifer.

THATS IT

it's almost 4 am so this is not at all proofread

so if it's shit

i'm sorry

edit: the cheating part made me feel bad so i switched it up

[orangeaurora]

Steve Harrington | Spidey 🕷️

Summary: You get stuck with Steve Harrington as your lab partner in your college biology class but he never seems to show up to class or make time for important homework assignments.

Imma call this aaaaa “people who love to bicker but actually love each other” fic because reader and Steve aren’t mean enough to each other to be considered enemies. :p ALSO! I will GLADLY write a part 2 of this so lemme know 🥰

Author’s note: I haven’t written anything in so long but I love this idea and had to write it myself. I hope you enjoy. 🧡

Warnings: getting cat called, and slightly grabbed (a man grabs your wrist hard but that’s as far as it goes), slight angst, cussing, uhhhh I think that’s it??

Word count: 3.9k

You sat in the cool air of your dorm room, focused on the biology homework in front of you as your roommate Robin was quickly flipping through channels on the TV to find something to watch. “-and Spider-Man!”, you hear quickly before the channel is changed again and your eyes are adverted to Robin. “Hey! Go back!” You say excitingly as Robin shrugs and goes back a few channels. “Okay, stop!” Your eyes light up as J. Jonah Jameson is going on another rampage about the city’s new hero.

“What… this?? I hate this guy.” You shake your head and laugh. “No, not the news guy! Spider-Man!” Robin rolls her eyes and smiles slightly, like she knows something that you don’t. “Ew. You know, there could be a complete weirdo underneath that mask and you wouldn’t even know it.” You shrug and go back to doing your homework. “Doesn’t matter to me.”

“Oh suuuure…” Robin says under her breath. “Huh?” You say with your eyebrows furrowed not actually sure of what Robin had said. “What? Oh, nothing!” She smiles and quickly fills her mouth with a handful of popcorn so she can’t talk anymore.

A few hours later Robin had left the dorm room to go take a shower and you hear a quick, melodic knock on the door. You sigh and stand up from the comfy spot in your bed and shuffle yourself to the door. As you approach the door you hear the sound of small items hitting the floor, followed by a mumbled, “oh, shit, fuck… SHIT!” You swing the door open to reveal Steve Harrington dropping a bunch of boxed candy and bags of popcorn on the floor. His fit frame bent down, picking up everything quickly. “Sorry I’m late, Robin, I got caught up with Spi- OH!” He jumps slightly before finally gathering himself and looks up at you, his smile dropping. “It’s you.” He stands up straight and shrugs, and scoots past you into your dorm room.

“Yeah, come right on in!” You say with a scoff as Steve lays all his stuff on Robin’s bed. “Hm… finally here to do our biology lab, Harrington?” He scoffs and starts pulling out a bunch of movies from his backpack. “Hell no. It’s horror movie night for Robin and I.” His back stays turned away from you as he talks, your eyes burning into the back of his head the whole time. Your arms cross over your chest as you lean your back against your bed. “Soooo, lemme get this straight, you don’t show up for class, you never show up to our study sessions, and now you can’t even help with the lab that YOUR name is gonna be on… even if you didn’t do any of it?” He shrugs and finally turns around to look at you. “Yeah, sounds about right.” He takes a step towards you. “Look, I’m sorry. I’ll figure out how to be included in the lab somehow, okay?” Your eyes narrow at him as you process what he’s saying.

“No you won’t.” You say flatly. Steve’s eyebrows furrow at you, his eyes looking a little bit shocked. “Wh-what do you mean?” You roll your eyes again before grabbing some of your stuff and a blanket. “You say that every homework assignment. I’m tired of picking up the slack for you.” You slug your backpack over your shoulder before walking towards the door. “It’s almost midnight! Where are you going?!” Steve says as he slightly raises his voice, annoyed with you. “To finish our lab, ya know? The one that’s due in…8 hours.” You look at a fake watch on your wrist before opening the door, revealing Robin only a few feet away from your dorm room. “Hey, idiot, where are you going?” Robin says with a smile as you walk right past her. “Enjoy your movie night.” You say to both of them as you make your way to the library.

As you reach the library, you couldn’t help but feel as if there were eyes on you the whole way there. It was a Sunday night on a college campus, lots of kids were finally returning to their dorms after a weekend of partying, but there was no reason to feel unsafe. You shake the feeling before finally finding a study room to finish your lab in peace. Thankfully you get super focused, not allowing your mind to wonder about the interaction you had just had with Steve or about the anxious feeling you had felt only a moment before. Only an hour later, you finished your assignment and smiled. Though, as you look at the top of the page where your name was written in nice, neat handwriting, you freeze for a second, tapping your pencil on the table as you think before sighing, and quickly writing, “Steve Harrington”, right next to yours.

You quickly close your notebook before you can change your mind and shove it into your backpack. The anxious feeling suddenly comes back as you realize you’re the only one in the library. You shake your head and quickly grab your things and start to make your way back to your dorm. Before you can make it to your dorm building you hear a whistle and freeze. “Hey, pretty thing!” Someone yells out and you continue walking. “Oh, come on, I just want to talk!” The voice is getting closer and closer to you as your feet start to move as fast as they can. Unfortunately, you weren’t walking fast enough as there is now a very drunk college boy walking parallel with you. “What? A guy can’t compliment a girl anymore?” He takes a slug of his drink before turning towards you. “Hm, thanks but I’m not interested. Have a good night.” He scoffs. “Come on! It won’t hurt to give me the time of day.” “It might…” you mumble under your breath before feeling a tight grip on your wrist. “What did you say?” He says between gritted teeth. “N-nothing!” Your voice gets louder but before he can respond, another voice is heard from above.

“Now is that any way to treat a lady?” Both you and the man, who’s grip on you loosens, look above you to reveal a figure perched up on a light post. The voice is sarcastic but playful as he shoots his hand out and releases a silk like substance from his hand, throwing the man away from you onto the ground. You stay frozen in your place, not sure if it’s out of fear or confusion. “Wha-?” You can’t even finish your sentence as the perched figure stands and jumps down besides you, your eyes going wide. “S-spider-man?” Your eyes light up as a smile appears on your face.

“Oh! Seems I have a fan?” The tone of the masked man is fun yet comforting, and it reminds you of honey. “Don’t get too close.” He says with a laugh as he walks towards the drunk boy who is still plastered on the ground. The masked man makes his way to the boy and webs him to the floor before crouching next to him. “Now, let’s use our big boy words and tell the girl you’re sorry? Okay?” The boy quickly nods before shaking and looking over at you. “S-sorry.” He looks over at Spider-Man, who’s shaking his head at him. “Hm… one more time. Like you mean it.”

“I’m really sorry, ma’am.” The boy looks back at Spider-Man for approval. “Much better.” Spider-man pats him on the shoulder before standing up, “Enjoy your time outside tonight!” He says as he looks down at the boy still webbed to the ground before turning his attention to you.

“Do me a favor, princess?” You nod your head, mouth slightly agape as you stand in shock still. “Go get to your dorm safely.” He points behind you as he walks backwards, never letting his back turn from you until you start walking away. You clutch your books to your chest before quickly turning around again to see if he is still there. Your heart is beating so fast that you can feel it in your throat, but you still manage to yell a clear, “Spider-Man?” In his direction. He turns back around and looks at you, walking backwards again.

“Thank you…” you say with a small smile. “Anything for you.” He yells back before swinging into the shadows. As soon as you turn around to walk into your building, you bite your lip and smile. “Oh Robin’s gonna love this.” You mumble underneath your breath.

As soon as you open the door to your dorm room, you feel an anxious energy flood over you. Your smile fades as you look over at Robin pacing back and forth and chewing on her nails. As she makes eye contact with you, her eyes light up. “Oh my god, you’re okay! I mean…” she puts her hair behind her ear. “Of course you’re okay, why wouldn’t you be okay? You were just at the library. At the library… in the dark! And I’m really scared of the dark so… in reality I’m just projecting my own fears!! I’m just being silly.” Robin laughs nervously as she sits on her bed. Staring at you with an awkward smile.

“Ooookay.” You say with a small laugh as you sit on your bed that’s across from her. Your smile grows bigger as you two sit in silence. “Oh, god, what??” Robin says with an amused but also grossed out tone. “IsawSpider-Mantonight.” You say under your breath super quickly. Robin squints her eyes at you. “I can’t hear a word you’re saying.” She says as she leans her head in closer to you. “Spider-Man. I just saw him… right now. He… he talked to me, Robin.” Your voice grows louder and louder as you speak, excitement spilling from your body.

Robin rolls her eyes as she lays back into her bed, slamming her back into the mattress. “Oh Jesus Christ, that’s what’s got you all riled up?” If only you could see the smirk on her face. “Robin, he saved me from this super creepy guy… and then called me princess.” Robin sits up from her parallel position and looks at you. “Ew.” She frowns.

Now it was your turn to roll your own eyes as you laugh and throw one of your pillows at her. “Whatever.” She laughs now too and throws one of her pillows back. “I’m happy for you, idiot.” She smiles as she lays down and pulls her blanket over her body. “Now go to bed and dream about your little spider boy.” She giggles and lays her head on her pillow, you mirroring her actions. “Oh I plan on it.” You mumble and fall into a deep sleep, every dream including the masked man who saved you tonight.

When you wake up in the morning, you quickly check your phone to see what time it is, and it immediately puts you into a panic. “Shit!” You say as you throw your blanket off of your body and pick up a pair of dirty jeans off of the floor and tug them up your legs. “What… are… you doing?” Robin grumbles as she covers her face with her pillow. “My stupid lab is due today and class starts in like…10 minutes.” You scoff as you pull a t-shirt over your head. “And lord knows Steve isn’t gonna show up and present anything so if I’m late that means both of us are going to get zeros.” Robin groans as she turns over in her bed. “Good luck.” She says as she throws a thumbs up over at you. “Mmhmm… thanks, R.” You quickly run your fingers through your hair as you shrug with approval and grab all your things, making your way quickly out of your dorm and to your class.

You had never walked faster to a class in your life. Your feet were moving a million miles a minute as you approached your classroom. That is until you hear a voice from beside you. “You look like you’re in a rush.” You stop in your tracks as you look at the boy and scoff. “Wow, decided to show up today, huh?” You look up at him, Steve. He shrugs and puts his hands in his pockets. “Decided I had enough time for you today I guess.” Your eyes squint at him for only a moment before you scoff. “Okay, Harrington.”

You shake your head as you quickly dig through your backpack and pull out the notebook that had your lab written in it, slapping it in Steve’s hands. “Review that as we walk.” You say as your feet start moving towards your classroom again. “You have a lot to catch up on. Come on, looks like we are both in a rush.”

Steve quickly follows behind you as he looks down at the lab in his hands, a smile forming on his face. “You know you really don’t have to give me credit for any of this… you shouldn’t.” You shrug as you look up at him. “You’re smart, Steve. I know you are. You just… are occupied. It’s okay. I’ll cover for you.” You smile up at him as he looks down at you with a glimmer in his eyes, the sun hitting off of the rim of his glasses perfectly.

“We could make a deal? I’ll do the next lab by myself. I promise.” You can’t help but laugh at Steve’s words as you shake your head. “Yeahhh not holding you to that promise, Harrington. Though, I do appreciate the offer.” Steve stops walking for a second, softly grabbing your wrist. “No, I’m serious, please, let me make it up to you.” Your eyebrows furrow as your eyes meet his, seriously considering his offer. “Fine. Pinky promise me, Steve Harrington.” Steve rolls his eyes as he holds out his pinky. A sweet smile on his face as a curl falls down into his face. “Pinky promise.” He slightly whispers as you two lock fingers. As your fingers lock and your eyes meet one another’s, you feel a flutter in your chest. It feels like time is frozen until you both get knocked out of whatever trance you’re in with each other when Steve looks down at his watch that’s on the hand that is currently interlocked with yours. “Okay but seriously we should probably get to class.” You release your hand from his as you nod quickly. “Mhmm, yeah. Class.”

As you and Steve are waiting for your turn to present, you can see Steve getting antsy. His leg shakes up and down as he chews on his thumb nail, his eyes staying in one place, his face showing that though his body is in the classroom, his mind is not. “Hey…” you whisper over at him. “Relax. We’re gonna do fine.” Steve looks at you confused. “Hm? I know that.” He shakes his head and goes back to chewing on his nails, his eyes darting down at his watch over and over again. You start to grow nervous that Steve might walk out on you right now. It wouldn’t be the first time. Finally, your names are called to present your lab and Steve sighs in relief, quickly standing up.

You guys present your lab almost perfectly, besides the fact that Steve could not slow down his speech, making it known he was in a rush. As soon as you said the last word of your presentation, Steve darted out the door. You smile at your professor awkwardly and then to your classmates. “Thank you…” you say quietly as you make your way back to your seat. The seat next to you now uncomfortably empty.

As soon as class is over you close your books and make your way to your dorm. You are incredibly thankful that you have no more classes for the day as you walk through campus. You can feel your throat start to close as tears brew in your eyes. Just once you wanted Steve to actually care. So many missed homework assignments, so many missed presentations, and now, finally when Steve shows up, he reminds you once again that none of this matters to him. Did you matter to him? Why would you? He’s Robin’s friend. You’re just his lab partner. You somehow wished you were more. After almost a whole year of being put on the back burner by Steve Harrington, you still expected more from him. Wanted more from him. You quickly wipe the tears that fall down your cheeks before a voice is heard from above.

“Hey, princess!!” The voice yells down. You jump slightly before looking up and seeing your favorite masked hero looking down at you. “Why the long face, sweetheart?” You laugh softly, wiping your tears clean off of your face. “I think you have better things to do than help a girl with her feelings.” You yell back with a smile. Spider-Man quickly jumps down and takes up the space right next to you. He shrugs, “my job comes with many responsibilities.” He starts to count on his fingers as he speaks. “Beating up bad guys, helping old ladies get their cats out of trees…helping old ladies cross the street, OH and watching pretty girls walk home.” One of your eyebrows goes up as your face contorts into amusement.

“Oh so I have a stalker now?” Even though the man has a mask on, you can feel the worry on his face as he gasps. “What? No… no! That’s not what I meant! You know that’s not what I meant!” He says awkwardly and in a panic as he puts his hand on his head. “I just mean… you know, you never know what could happen because of that… creepy guy the other night.” He leans his back on the wall of the building you guys are standing next to, trying to be slick and cover up what he had said. You can’t help but laugh as you step closer to him. “Well then I guess I’m honored.” As you look at the masked man, you can’t help but feel a longing for him. You want to know his secrets, what he looks like. His favorite color and favorite movie. You want to know him. Not Spider-Man, but the man in the mask. Your smile fades as you look toward your dorm building.

“Well, I shouldn’t keep you. It’s uh, it’s sweet of you to check on me.” You start to walk backwards, making your way to your dorm. Spider-Man sighs as he throws out his hand and swings back up to the light post he was on only minutes ago. “Don’t be a stranger.” He yells down. “How could I be??? You’re stalking me, remember??” You yell back at him as he shakes his head and laughs. “In your dreams, princess!” He yells one last time before swinging away. Oh if only he knew.

You spend the rest of the day longing for another interaction with Spider-Man. Just from the two small interactions you had, he made you feel like you mattered. As you sit cuddled up in your comforter, you can hear laughter approaching your room before Robin walks in with Steve. “Oh, sorry dingus number two! I didn’t know you’d be home yet.” You sigh as you sit up and look at them both. “No problem.” A small smile forms on your lips as Steve looks over at you. He waves and scratches his neck nervously. Robin looks at you both and rolls her eyes with a loud groan. “Oh get over it already you two. I can not have my two best friends be this awkward with each other all the time. It’s killing me!” She grabs a few popcorn bags and walks towards the door again. “I’m going to the lounge to make this. You two…” she points at you both back and forth, “work this out right now. She’s joining us for movie night tonight.” Steve looks at Robin with furrowed brows and slumped shoulders, almost begging her not to leave. Like they both know something you don’t and they are communicating with their minds.

Robin tilts her head at Steve and he rolls his eyes with a quiet, “okay, fine, fine…” leaving his lips, his hands going up in surrender. Robin quickly makes her way out of the dorm room, slamming the door behind her. You can’t help but laugh at her dramatics, Steve joining in right after. “Awkward? Pft… we aren’t awkward.” Steve says as he leans against Robin’s bed, arms crossed over his chest. You smile at him and roll your eyes before pointing between the two of you. “Oh, this isn’t awkward?” He shakes his head with a smug smile. “Nah…” he laughs before sighing and looking down at the ground. “I’m sorry… about earlier. I wish I could make it up to yo-,”

“Don’t worry about it.” You quickly cut him off, not wanting to get upset, but Steve shakes his head. “No, I am worried about it. I’m sorry.” You frown slightly at him before speaking. “I just want to know why, Steve. I know I’m just your lab partner, but…” you shake your head at your own words. Steve squints slightly at you, wanting you to keep going. “But what?”

You scoff again. “Nothing. Seriously. You have better things to do, I understand that.” Steve frowns back at you now as he glides his hand through his hair. “I just wish I could explain…” you shrug at him. “There’s nothing to explain, Steve. You have your life, I have mine.” Steve pushes his glasses up his face before sticking his hands in his pockets. “Whatever you say, princess.” You smile as you look down in your lap, but suddenly a voice in the back of your head repeats the word princess back to you. It’s not the word, it’s the way he said it. It’s not mocking you, it’s sweet…like honey. You freeze, mouth going slightly dry as your head shoots up to look at him, eyes going wide in shock. The nickname, of course you’ve heard it before.

“What?” Steve says with a small chuckle, noticing the way you're suddenly studying his face. The chuckle that leaves Steve’s lips suddenly sounds familiar to you. He’s busy all the time because he is Spider-Man. A voice says in your head before you shake it away. “Nothing…nothing! We’re good, Steve, I promise.” Your mind is still running wild. You try your best to hide your thoughts, not wanting to look crazy. Steve smiles and holds out his pinky, just like earlier. “Pinky promise?” You take a deep breath before locking fingers with him again. “Pinky promise.” You smile and just as you’re about to say something else, Robin barges in the room with two bowls full of popcorn, she smiles wildly as she looks at your fingers interlocked. “Awwww… dingus one and dingus two just needed some alone time!” She says as you and Steve both roll your eyes and let go of each other’s hands. You look over at Steve one more time, his curly hair dangling in his face, his glasses perfectly framing his face, and you can’t help but smile.

Maybe your connection with Spider-Man ran deeper than just having a crush on a masked superhero. Maybe he’s been in front of you this whole time and you’ve never realized it. Whether your sudden realization was real or not, Steve Harrington had his secrets, but so did everyone else. Maybe you’d never know who was behind the masked hero, but suddenly, it didn’t matter.

[monkepawbz]

Scars

A Deadpool x (female) Y/N oneshot about Wade hating his body and Y/N comforting him through the self hatred and heartbreak of losing Vanessa. (This takes place somewhere after Deadpool 3!)

"Let me see your face...take off the mask, Wade..." she pleaded, wanting to see Wade's real face. For years he had always kept the mask on, as well as the rest of the suit, and Y/N had finally grown tired of her friend/crush never letting her see the real him.

Wade's eyes fluttered closed as he hesitated for a moment, his hand reaching up to remove the mask. As he slowly removed it, he winced in shame.

"Y/N... You're really going to make me do this, aren't you?" Wade laughed joylessly, shaking his head slightly. He slowly lifted his gaze, revealing the gruesome extent of his disfigurement. His light blue eyes gleamed with a mix of vulnerability and intensity as he gazed at her. "This is what I've become. This is who I am now." The man frowned, not able to look at the woman in front of him.

She smiled softly at him, her eyes full of love and sincerity.

"You're wonderful..." she breathed, reaching up to softly caress his cheek. The mutated skin was rough against her softer fingertips, the contrast sending electricity through her veins.

Wade's expression faltered, his eyes searching hers as if trying to understand her words.

"Y/N..." The merc trailed off, his voice caught in his throat for a moment. He continued to look at her, expecting this to be some sort of trick.

"You're not supposed to say things like that. I'm a fucked up freak, remember? A walking disaster with a face only a mother could love. Shit, not even a mother could love this dumpster fire!" He looked away, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Promise me this isn't some fucked up prank or something...okay?" He pleaded.

She nodded. "I promise it's real, Wade. I think you're incredibly handsome. I just wish that you didn't hide your face away from me for so long..."

She heard him let out a long sigh, leaning back on the couch and slumping a bit dejectedly.

"I know...so much for being a good buddy, huh?" He muttered.

Wade had been friends with Y/N for a few years now, the two of them meeting when he ended up saving her from one of the people he was hired to kill. They hit it off afterwards and found comfort in one another's weirdness. It was a friendship that was deep, however...Y/N eventually fell in love with him. Watching Wade be with Vanessa was one of the hardest things she had to go through, however the relationship seemed to end as the two of them seemed to want different things in life.

"Wade...how are you doing? Are you doing okay since she..." Y/N trailed off, her throat constricting with anxiety. She looked up at him, expecting Wade to be upset. He made a small noise, his lips pressed into a straight line. After a moment, he attempted to smile.

"I'm fine, Y/N. I couldn't be better, actually! I saved the world recently! Got a cool new roommate! I call him Wolfy but he fuckin' hates it. I also have the cutest little puppy in the world now!" He beamed. Despite the happiness he tried to convey, there was something deeper in those baby blues. She looked at him, scrunching her face in concentration as she tried to read him. His eyes darted around the room, confused.

"What's all this about?" He pointed at her with a gloved hand. She shook her head and shushed him.

"You're lying. There's something else." She retorted, not convinced.

"Fuckin...alright FINE, Y/N, you got me!" He threw up his hands in mock surrender. "I like you, okay? And I've been trying to figure out whatever the HELL I'm feeling so I don't drag you down to the firey pits below with me! I mean, shit! You're a decently normal person and I'm a ticking time bomb waiting to ruin some other person's life." Wade rambled, hurt apparent in his eyes.

Y/N gently pulled him into a warm hug, and he froze.

"What is...?" he was shushed by her as she gently rubbed circles into his back, the Deadpool suit's texture feeling good against her skin.

"You don't have to be okay right now. You are hurt, and you loved her. I'm not asking you to love me right away, or even at all. However, I have to admit I have loved you for many years now. And I think you are incredibly handsome, charming and funny to be around." She explained. Wade hesitated, pulling away and standing.

"What are you saying, Y/N...?" He asked, eyes wide in shock. She looked up at him and smiled.

"I love you, Wade Wilson. I always have, and if you ever want someone to help mend that broken heart...I would like to volunteer. And I love you, scars and all." Y/N's words were soft and sweet, and Wade felt how genuine she was being.

"I...need some more time...but...yeah. I think I would like that, peanut." He gave her a lopsided smile.

"Then...how about this. We can start slow. I can try to give you healthy if you try to give me the same. We can figure this out together, even if it's messy." She held his hand in her own, giving it a light squeeze. Wade nodded.

"Deal." He said, and for once he seemed to actually believe that maybe, just maybe, someone didn't mind his scars.

[trendywaifus]

↳ not in love, baby it’s just lust!

always look both ways and behind you when you walk at night.

↳ featuring, michael myers! jingliu

—cw, sub! fem! reader, jingliu has a cock, face fucking, murder mentioned, gagging, cursing, size–kink, death of a character, dub-con

the sounds of your heavy breathing and wheezing echoes through the narrow walls of the horribly lit alleyway. your limbs burned with exhaustion and you were on the verge of passing out from nonstop running. the hot tears you desperately tried to wipe away, continuously runs down your flushed cheeks. you meet face to face with a dead end, your blood runs cold. “ o-oh my fucking god!” you slammed your palm against the cold brick wall in frustration. “ i just did a dumb white girl move, why did i even turn into this alleyway?! “

you whipped around, hoping to scramble out of the narrow space before your pursuer comes. you halted after a few steps in upon seeing the tall shadow of a silhouette steadily approaching towards your only escape route out. “ o-of course the motherfucker shows up. .! “ you muttered harshly, watching in horror as the looming figure stands tall at the entrance of the alleyway. your eyes trails down to what looks like to be a knife in their hand. “ oh fuck, i’m going to die because i wanted to buy a bag of shitty candy from the shitty corner store at night. .”

they began to approach, taking slow, calculated steps towards you. the knife twirls in their hand almost playfully as you backed up, frantically looking around for a weapon to use. “ last w-words of advice, if you’re interested in a woman, h-how about you not follow them and try to kill them, mister i. .—miss?” you were at a loss of words as her appearance became more visible under the shitty flickering lights. she had on a familiar worn–out fox mask, rivers of white hair flowed down her shoulders from underneath it. she wore a grey coverall jumpsuit that shaped her fit body.

“ th-this somehow got worse—you were the one who was following me? i seriously just heard about you on the news last night. god, i’m so fucked! “ you sobbed, forcing yourself up against the wall. a man by the name of yingxing was brutally murdered in his own home yesterday in broad daylight. it’s so happen that a witness caught a few glimpses of the masked killer somewhere outside the home after the murder and was able to give the police a distinctive description of her. why did you have to be the one to confirm it’s accurate in the worst way possible?

swallowed by her presence as she now towers over your figure, her dull red eyes peers down at you through the slits of the mask, amused by your pathetic mental breakdown. she raises her knife up and you instinctively closed your eyes shut, waiting for the sharp pain to come. instead, a cool metal gently brushes against your cheek, wiping away stray tears. you flinched, opening your eyes to stare at the masked woman with confusion.

“ d-did you just. . .? “ she tilts her head, letting out a low chuckle at your cute reaction. your brows furrowed, she’s either fucking with you or—she actually took your advice? “ maybe i won’t die tonight if i play my cards right. .” you whispered. taking a deep breath, you mustered up a tight-lipped smile. “ i-i heard a lot about you, including your name. jing. .liu, correct? “ she stares at you for a moment before slowly nodding.

“ you have such a beautiful name and you seem like a. .reasonable woman, jingliu. i actually want to go home since it’s like late at night and i think my mother is worried about me. you wouldn’t mind stepping aside so i can go, right? you’re kind of blocking the way—n-not to be rude. .”

jingliu says nothing, nor did she move aside to allow you to pass. instead, she takes a step forward, practically sandwiching you between her and the wall. you yelped, placing your palms against her stomach. it’s safe to assume that she did not want you to leave nor was she interested in killing you. her calloused hand cups your cheek, caressing the skin tenderly. you laughed nervously, “ i-i guess you already taken a liking to me. fucking perfect. “

your breath hitches as she leans down to your face, the rough texture of the mask grazes your cheek. you shifted uncomfortably against her, earning a soft groan. “ s-sorry? why did you make that—oh.” a soft bulge rubs against your thigh, causing you to stiffen up. jingliu swiftly tosses the knife to the side, the metal object hits the asphalt with a loud clang. her hands lands on your hips, forcing them to grind against hers. “ e-easy, easy, jingliu! “ you gasped, holding back a soft moan. fuck, a small adjustment easily triggered her?

she grunts, easing her grip on your hips but her movements doesn’t falter. “ sh-shit. . “ arousal shamelessly stirs in your belly, slowly dragging you into a mess of dirty thoughts about the feral woman. she hastily pulls up her mask, just enough to free the lower half of her face and smashed her lips against yours. the searing kiss was nothing but tongue and teeth. she easily overpowered you, not caring about bruising your lips. her hands journeys up your sides, wishing to explore every nook and cranny of your body.

her tongue hungrily explores your warm cavern, swallowing your whimpers. lust consumes you whole, trapping you in its hold and starts plucking away at any rational thought you had about the reality of the current situation. without hesitation, your hand slides down her stomach and squeezed at the hardened bulge. a deep growl emits from jingliu’s throat, she rolls her hips against your palm. “ god, it went from wanting to go home to wanting to fuck a suspected serial killer. ” you breathed, unzipping the jumpsuit from under the waistband, freeing her cock from its restraints.

jingliu’s lips parts as she laughs huskily at the irony. she firmly sets her hand on your shoulder and easily pushes you down to your knees. she hooks her hand on the back of your head, urging you to open your mouth. you complied, allowing her length to slide inside. her breath hitches, taken aback by how good you feel. your jaw tenses as jingliu fully pushes herself in until the tip was kissing the back of your throat.

suddenly, she jerks her hips forward, forcing her cock down your throat causing you to gag. she pulls back before doing it again. each time, it gets deeper and sloppy until she’s repeatedly fucking your tight throat without a care in the world. series of throaty moans and sounds of wet squelching fills the empty night sky. drool runs down your chin as you struggled to accommodate her size and pace. your palms pressed against her thighs to at least cease her speed but she was far more stronger than you.

her cock twitches in your mouth, signaling her inevitable climax. throwing her head back in pure ecstasy, she thrusts into your mouth one final time before loads of cum shoots down your throat. jingliu doesn’t pull out until she’s sure you’ve swallowed everything. once she was satisfied, she releases your head, finally allowing you to cough and breathe properly.

“ fuck. . “ you cursed, massaging your tense jaw. jingliu snatches you up by the forearm and pulls you up without warning. she presses you back into the wall, peppering your face with feverish kisses. her deft hands find themselves unbuttoning your jeans and pulling them down to your ankles for you to kick off. her eyes looks you up and down hungrily, gaze lingering on your bare legs and panties. she places her hands on your sides and easily lifts you up from off the ground. you yelp, circling your legs around her waist.

she smirks at you, sliding your panties to the side to push her drool—covered cock inside your cunt. you both moan in sync as your walls clamp around her. “ l-let me adjust—nngh! “ ignoring your request, jingliu sinks you down to the hilt, completely filling you up. she pants heavily into your ear, retracting her hips back before thrusting right in again. “ s’big, i-i c-can’t! “ you moaned, pushing at her shoulders.

she holds you tighter and moves away to send you a threatening look. her once blank ruby eyes were wild, glistening with unadulterated lust. the masked woman finally uses her tongue to speak, her voice was raspy and low as she growled,

“ don’t. .push . .me. .away . ! “

[archangeldyke-all]

Omg omg reader doing skincare on Sev? (Forgot to put my emoji lmao)

-🥨

GOD this is such a cute fucking idea oh my god.

men and minors dni

sevika knows that she has a simple skincare routine. she watches silco get ready every morning, mildly amused by the fact that the man uses more products than even she does-- so she knows that there's all kinds of lotions and potions out there she's never even heard of.

when she meets you, she finally gets a peek into that world.

who knew there was so much shit for your skin? sevika's only ever used bar soap and body lotion-- yes, for her face too-- and she's been fine.

but, through you, she learns there's so much more. there's muds and masks you can plaster on your face, there's serums and spfs, acids and exfoliates and moisturizers-- it's a lot.

still-- each time she presses a kiss to your soft, smooth cheek, sevika can't help but sigh at the flowery smell that clings to you.

and when she's sitting in bed beside you, reading while you watch a show and let a sheet mask soak into your face, sevika wonders what it might be like if she upgraded her skincare, a bit.

"baby." she mumbles. you turn over to look at your girlfriend.

"yeah, love?"

"does my skin need all that stuff yours does?" she asks.

you shrug. "i don't think my skin really needs a face mask once a week-- but it's fun. makes my skin all shiny and plump for a few days. you might like it babe, it's really relaxing."

so, the next time you swipe on a mud mask, you call sevika into the bathroom. "babe, come here!"

"what?" she asks, shuffling into the bathroom as she pulls her sleep shirt on.

"wanna try a mask?" you ask.

sevika smiles.

you paint it on for her, and she can't deny that she likes the cool feeling of the mud on her face, and the warm way you gently move her face with her chin pinched between your fingers.

"what now?" she asks, looking at your matching green faces in the mirror. you giggle.

"wait for it to dry 'n we'll wash it off. i can slice some cucumbers to put over your eyes, if you want the full salon experience." you tease.

but sevika seems interested, smiling and nodding sweetly. "okay."

you grin, then rush to the kitchen to scour the fridge for the veggies.

that's how it starts. it snowballs from there.

in the morning, sevika stands right by your side as you wash your face, apply your spot treatments, and rub in all your skincare for the day.

you'll do one step on your face, then turn to sevika and do the same on hers.

you guys don't have the same skin type, so some of the steps you skip on her. but it becomes both of your favorite part of your morning routine.

sevika loves feeling your hands gently massage her face, you love the sweet, trusting, way she closes her eyes and leans into your hands.

for her birthday that year, you buy her her own pots and jars of products-- things specified for the little dry patches on her nose and the pimples she gets between her boobs.

she loves it-- but she still refuses to apply it herself. half the reason she's getting into skin care in the first place is so she can feel your hands on her each morning and evening.

your night routine is a lot slower-- neither of you have anywhere you need to be.

you'll gently sway in one another's arms, sipping on whiskey or wine as you slowly, sweetly massage away the little furrow in her brow, the tension she carries in her jaw.

she sleeps like a fucking baby after-- all coated in her perfumed creams and relaxed from your touch, smushed right against you in bed.

within a year, sevika becomes a skincare expert. at work, she starts recommending products to her goons. she starts wearing the little star pimple patches you wear-- out in public and everything. she doesn't care that it contradicts her badass appearance-- she's matching with her girl. that's all that matters to her.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie

[moonstruckme]

idk if u listen to taylor swift but her song mastermind (which is kinda like maneuvering things around to get together with someone) would be so cool to read with TASM! Peter !! Maybe the reader realizes Peter is Spiderman after recognizing his voice and then tries her hardest to become Peter’s friend in school and kinda puts all the pieces together herself (+ the line ‘to assess the equation of you’ is so peter coded) also I feel like smart reader deserves more rep 😞 like no way she wouldn’t recognize his cocky ass voice

Again this is just like. Me spilling out my random thoughts 🤭 -🍁 (sorry for spam)

Hi lovely! I didn't stick to this very faithfully, but it did inspire an idea that I'd be remiss not to give you credit for! It's established relationship, where reader has figured out Peter is Spiderman (I agree she's not dumb and that needs to be regonized). Thank you <33

cw: a whiff of harassment (more of an attempt really, but if that will upset you please don't read)

tasm!Spiderman x fem!reader ♡ 1.3k words

It’s hard to feel totally vulnerable walking around the city at night when you know you’re never really by yourself. Peter thinks he’s so stealthy, but he can’t always avoid casting shadows on the street ahead of you; you were bound to catch onto his well-intentioned stalking eventually. You’re not totally sure why he doesn’t just walk you home as himself (you’re coming from his apartment, it’s not like it would have been so difficult to ask), but your boyfriend seems to prefer stepping into his alter-ego when he thinks there’s any possibility for danger. 

It turns out this time, he was right.

It’s not that you don’t see the man walking in the opposite direction of you (you’d have to be blind to miss the slow, performative up-down he gives you) or notice his mouth moving in your periphery, but you’re city-trained; you keep your eyes ahead, hoping he’ll see that you’ve got your earbuds in and leave you alone when he doesn’t get the attention he wants. 

The man passes you, and you’re thinking you’re in the clear when there’s a forceful tug on your elbow. You very nearly pitch forward in your haste to get away from the unwelcome touch, but then the hand is wrenched away, and you turn to find the man stuck to a newspaper dispenser with one wrist covered in a familiar white filmy substance. A second later, and his other hand is webbed to the car behind him. 

You pull out your earbuds just as Spiderman lands in front of you, the tilt of his head indicating that he’s looking you over for damage. 

“Hey, what the fuck!” The man sputters. “I was just trying to pay the bitch a compliment—”

“Alright, thanks for that, pal.” Spiderman webs his mouth shut, and your harasser continues his muffled protests. “Maybe we just have different styles, but most of my compliments don’t start with unsolicited commentary on a stranger’s boobs.” 

You curl your lip, and the man looks like a dog on its leash the way he’s tugging against his restraints. Your rescuer webs his feet in place, stopping their scraping against the sidewalk.

“You know,” he says, turning to you, and he’s not even trying to disguise his voice, “you should really have at least one earbud out if you’re walking by yourself at night. That’s just the first entry in the Pretty Girl Guidebook.” 

You grin at him. “I think the first entry in the Pretty Girl Guidebook would really advocate more for playing damsel in distress to lure charming heroes your way. Walk me home, handsome?” 

You start back on your way, and he follows you like it’s all he knows how to do. He’s quiet, and though you can’t see his expression behind the mask, you wonder if you’ve actually startled Spiderman into silence. If he expects you to be bashful and awestruck, he’s got another thing coming; you’re typically a bit shy around new people, but Peter isn’t new people. 

“Yeah?” he asks after a second, and you wonder if you’d be able to detect the slight pitchiness to his voice if you didn’t know it so well. “So was that the plan all along? Get yourself attacked to get yourself rescued?” 

“No.” You shrug, casting a disdainful glance back toward the man who’d grabbed you. “I don’t go out looking for trouble, but I know that if it finds me,” you say, looking up into the mask with a simpering smile, “I’ve got Brooklyn’s friendly neighborhood hero to protect me.” 

You think he actually gulps. “I’m flattered you think so highly of me, sweetheart, but you really should take some precautionary measures too.” 

“Well, I suppose I could’ve asked my boyfriend to walk home with me,” you muse, “but he seemed like he was eager to have me gone. Better things to do, apparently.”

“What?” It’s a squawk, and then Peter clears his throat from behind the mask. “I’m sure if your boyfriend’s a sensible guy—which, I mean, anyone who managed to snag a girl like you must not be totally airheaded—I’m sure he didn’t mean to rush you off.” 

“I don’t know.” You frown, looking off in front of you contemplatively. “He’s book smart for sure, but he can be kind of dense sometimes.” You can feel your companion’s hesitation like a prickle at your side, his uncertainty of how to go about this conversation with you, and it catches him offguard when you stop to look up at him with coy, wide eyes. “Do you think you’re a sensible guy?”

His voice is strangled. “Me?”

“Mhm,” you hum, slowly moving into his space. 

“I—I like to think so, sure.” 

It’s all you can do not to giggle at how easily his cocky persona has come undone. You’re having too much fun to even feel bad about the torment you’re inflicting upon your boyfriend. “Maybe I should be with you, then,” you say. 

He actually takes a step back. “But—but—uh, listen, you’re really pretty, but didn’t you say you had a boyfriend?” 

“Yeah,” you say softly, batting your eyelashes up at him, “what about him?”

You’ve got your hands on his shoulders, lips so close to his face you can feel the warmth of his breath through the mask, and you actually think he’s going to do it. He’s going to let you kiss him. You shove playfully at his chest, unable to contain your laughter anymore.

“Pete, c’mon,” you say, careful to keep your voice low. “You must think I’m an idiot. You really thought I wouldn’t recognize you?”  

There’s a few moments of wordless sputtering which you can’t really hold against him, and then Peter’s whisking you into an alley, pulling his mask off. 

“Sorry for fucking with you,” you say while he’s still getting his bearings. He runs a hand through his hair, eyes wide. “It was just so easy to flirt back. You made it too much fun for me.” 

“Jesus, babe.” Peter fists a hand in his hair, already fluffy from being handled so much. “When did you figure it out?” 

“I mean, before today, but not very long ago,” you admit. “I knew something was up for a lot longer, but I didn’t put it together until you helped me with that mugger a few weeks ago.” You quirk a playful eyebrow. “You should at least try to distort your voice if you’re going to be Spiderman around people who know you in real life, you know.” 

“Never had to with Flash,” he mutters. “Why didn’t you say anything to me?”

You turn a bit more sheepish, unsure if you should feel guiltier about keeping your realization from him. To be fair, though, he’d kept a whole crime-fighting secret identity from you. “Is there ever a right time?” you ask him with a little shrug. “I guess I eventually wanted you to tell me on your own. I get why you didn’t, but it’s not like you’re exactly choosing to trust me here.” 

“I do,” Peter says immediately. He takes your shoulder in hand, like he needs to keep you steady to make sure you’re hearing him. “I do trust you, honey. It was never about trust.” He passes a hand over his face, shock melding into something more like dread. “It just, it could be dangerous for you, if you’re ever seen with me and it's obvious you know who I am, or something. I didn’t want to drag you into anything. There are…not everyone thinks of me as the friendly neighborhood hero you do.” 

He gives you a little smile, and you return it, stroking his jaw in an attempt at comfort. “I know,” you say softly. 

“We’re going to have to be careful.” 

“I know. Pete?” 

“Yeah?”

“If we’re being careful, you should probably put your mask back on.”