#she still has something going on with madelis no matter what though

[the-bi-fangirl-biatch]

more headcanons for then that i just *cannot* stop thinking about, and I encourage you to add on!

Bob will always check on them during missions or press ops in very different ways to each person (potential for a 5 times + 1 fic ofc). either voice mails, texts through different platforms, letters (Bucky especially appreciates them), photos of what new meal prep they're gonna come home to. Very domestic, like a spouse waiting for their partner to come home from the war.

And another thing, I think Bob would get really into stationery. He'd bullet journal as one of his techniques to cope with what's happened. Yelena would say she has absolutely no time to do that, but then spend hours at his desk, poking and prodding at his newly delivered stationery. "What’s this do?" "That's a rolling stamp to make borders. See? It's pretty and really easy." "Can I try?" She fumbles it at first, but once she aligns it right, she refuses to stop. All his extra paper has rolls of the stamp. She writes Nat's name with it, then hers, then Bob's, then the teams'. It makes them both feel better to create and organize things rather than destroy them.

Ava will unironically wear Alexei's merch. At first she found it annoying, like 'come on man how many ideas do you have?' And then it turns into 'oh shit, how many ideas do you have?' Alexei would run things by the team and when they roll their eyes at the new product, he'd say, "But Ava used it! See, useful!" She defends herself by insisting that, "It was already there! One less thing to think about so we can focus on more important missions." "Are you using the AvengerZ plate and utensil set?" ".....No"

John still cannot shake his military habits, no matter how hard he tries, and everyone surprisingly connects with him through them one way or another. He wakes up at the asscrack of dawn to jog, and somehow Bucky's there, too, tying his sneakers about to go out. They have a race. Don't ask either of them who wins, or they get grumpy (they both got distracted and ran into trees/ran into a fountain and both got wet). Yelena cannot be assed to heat up the (amazingly made) mac and cheese that Bob stocked up for them, so she eats it straight out of the tupperware. John's hungry too and, well, he's used to roughing it up with little to no supplies in the field, so he eats the cold pasta beside her. He catches Ava rolling her clothes quickly after a load of laundry and shows her how to roll them more efficiently, even doing the little tucking to keep the folds together. An don't get me started on him and Alexei testing their strength with arm wrestling. They've broken many a table with that.

He's also probably great at organization. You don't become a tactical leader for nothing! He and Bob would have an intricate shared Excel sheet of what the tower needs. Neither of them know how to use Excel the best, though, so they both try random formulas and see which works best. They refuse to google, thinking 'it can't be that hard!' Basically two dumb bitches telling each other exactlyyyyy while the entire column has an error.

Bucky and Ava absolutely debate about the most useless things. Like, not in the 'strategic mission planning' type that he and Yelena usually do (although Ava's got a say in strategy too). More like non controversial things, like if cereal was a soup, or if hotdogs are a sandwich, or if you should put water on the toothbrush before or after toothpaste. They get extremely heated about it, and Bucky enjoys the lighthearted discussions amidst the seriousness. John (like the asshole he is) will purposely say something so unhinged just to throw them both off. "I don't put it on my toothbrush—I squeeze it directly into my mouth." And boom, they have a common enemy. Punches have been thrown over this.

They take home magnets of every country/city/state/etc they visit for the tower's fridge. Doesn't matter if it's tacky or loud, they *have* to collect them. Alexei particularly likes the ones that double as bottle openers.

Bucky is banned from the kitchen. He tries to cook with Bob once, and even his mild temper is snapped with endless eye rolls and yelps from sauces being flung around. He's also not allowed to use the dishwasher there (something about cross contamination), so he just sneaks out and does it in the middle of the night. One time, Yelena caught him waiting for it with the Tired Grandpa™️ pose and they get into a staring contest. Then she slowly adds one of her knives to it and they both wait and see if it gets clean. (It does.)

They all bond over hair. They're mostly assassins, operatives, military, experiments, or wayward people, so of course, they know how to cut their own hair. But to let another person get close to you with something sharp? That kind of trust takes longer to build. They start with sharing hairties, always having an extra on their wrist in case someone needed one. Then, they get hair products on Valentina's dime. There's always a new package waiting for them. Another curl cream or hair mask. Then, they abuse the hair appliances that were bought for them like straighteners, blowdriers, and curlers. Then slowly, cutting each other's hair.

YES the Thunderbolts have a fantastic team as family dynamic, yes they are living in Avengers tower, yes history is repeating itself and 2012 tower fics are so back. BUT!

instead of "Alexei eating poptarts" or "Yelena in the vents", we must come up with new headcanons and make history

Bob always does normal domestic chores, often getting in the way of important missions and spy business. "All I'm saying is Bucky is our best sniper" "It would be a much quieter assassination if I just slipped into the condo and cut his—" "Hey sorry guys, anyone have laundry? I'm doing a load"

Yelena and her guinea pig always eat meals together at the dining table. Everyone has their Chinese food or barbeque, meanwhile the rodent is loudly munching on a salad right beside them

Bucky is the mom and always keeps them on track. "Ava you have a dentist appointment in the morning, and bring Bob so they can add him to the insurance. Lena how was therapy? Alexei, I said no vodka until dinner"

Alexei is always coming up with new promotional ideas for the team. Cartoon tv show, cereal, toothpaste flavour...every day he thinks he's come up with the next big thing. Whenever they actually get put into production (Wheaties) he collects and saves it, and won't let anyone use a different product. (He threw out Yelena's frosted flakes and it took both Bucky and John to get her to stop attacking him)

Ava likes to phase and sneak attack her teammates at random. She claims it's for training but really she just thinks it's funny hearing them scream

John gets blamed for everything, even if it isn't his fault. Especially if it isn't his fault: "who ate the last bagel?" "John." "Where's my hair straightener?" "John had it." "Whose turn is it to unload the dishwasher?" "Johnnnn"

[wondrluv]

୨୧ in need ; af35

➪ summary: when you and your contagious happy energy weasel your way into azzi's life, she's hesitant to tell people. but after a bad day, all you want is her, and nothing's going to stop you from getting to her, not even the crowd of teammates at her place

➪ warnings: reader has a bad day, mentions of hiding relationship

➪ word count: 1.4k

➪ emma's notes: ahhhh my first azzi fic! i came up with this idea like in the middle of the night last night when i couldn't sleep so here this is. i'm so excited to write more for her, but for now, this is what i've written! i hope you guys enjoy as always :) i do have a new taglist system, so if you want to be added, feel free to check out the form at the bottom of this post!

© wondrluv ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

You were always told you had this effect on people. The kind of effect that if someone was having the worst of all days, one look at you would make it all the better. 

You got used to this, everyone saying that you had this glow about you that just made them want to smile, but you never believed it. Not until you met Azzi Fudd.

Azzi Fudd was the kind of girl that always looked like something had upset her or someone had pissed her off just moments before you looked at her. Though for you, you never thought it was because of that. From the second you met her, you knew there was another layer to Azzi that no one else knew about, hell, maybe even her closest friends and family didn’t even know about. And you were determined to figure out what it was.

So, when the opportunity arose, you sat next to her on the first day of one of your classes, grinning at her like you just won the lottery. She gave you a skeptical look, eyeing you up and down, appalled at the fact that you were so happy on a Monday at 9 in the morning. 

You just introduced yourself, your smile never wavering, even when all she did was nod and turn back to her phone, music still playing through her headphones. And for a few weeks, that was all it was. You saying hi and her giving a less than committal response before sitting in silence for the rest of the class. 

And almost two weeks of having classes with her every Monday and Wednesday, before she said something back. Four classes weren’t a lot, but maybe it was your effect, the effect you had to nuzzle your way into her heart, warming it every time you even glanced at her. 

You weren’t expecting it in the least, the small ‘hey’ she all but whispered when you gave her your beaming smile, but that only caused you to smile wider. And with each passing class, she would say more and more, and that was when your relationship with Azzi Fudd started. The sunshine girl and the black cat girlfriend.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Six months later, the two of you had been dating for four, and she had yet to tell anyone about the two of you. Maybe it was because she was scared of admitting she found a soft spot for someone and she would get teased relentlessly for it, or it was because she was protecting you from the teasing she knew you would get once her friends saw her with you. 

You didn’t mind, not in the slightest. You were happy to keep your relationship private if that’s what she wanted. All you wanted was her, no matter the format. But now? Now it didn’t matter if the whole world was watching the two of you; you needed her. 

This had to have been the longest day you’ve ever experienced. From almost running into class late, to the missing reports you had lying on your desk that you needed for your project, to the twisting of your ankle on the walk back to your apartment, down to the coffee you spilled over yourself in the middle of the cafe. 

To be frank, you were over it, your mind was scattered, your body was worn, and all you wanted was to curl up on your girlfriend’s chest and forget about today. So with the rest of your willpower, you bundled up in a pair of sweatpants, one of Azzi’s sweatshirts, tied your hair up in a ponytail with your phone and wallet in your hands, and headed out the door. 

The walk to Azzi’s wasn’t long, but the slight chill in the air made it seem like it went on for longer than 10 minutes, coupled with the exhaustion setting heavy in your bones. You pulled your sleeves over your hands as you walked up the stairs to her place; the elevator being broken was just another layer to your day. 

Your mind was so focused on Azzi’s comfort that you barely noticed the people surrounding you as you walked into her place, kicking her shoes off and bee-lining it to where she lay spread out on the couch, collapsing on top of her, burying your head in her chest. 

Everyone froze; KK’s hand stopped inches from her mouth, holding a piece of pizza, Paige’s eyebrows quirked, water bottle in hand, Ice glanced over from where she was fiddling with the TV remote, Aubrey looked up from her phone, and Sarah’s mouth hung open just slightly before she closed it, her attempt to mask her confusion and amusement futile. 

But Azzi paid no mind to them, her arms wrapping around almost like second nature, one hand coming to play with your hair as the other rubs soothing circles across your back, slipping beneath your hoodie. She murmured something low in your ear, a soft, “I got you,” and nothing else, holding you tightly against her. 

She pressed a soft kiss to your temple, her movements never wavering as she focused all of her attention on you. Your legs tangled with hers as you tried to push yourself closer against her, causing her to let out a tiny laugh that left everyone else exchanging glances. 

You felt safe being surrounded by her, almost like your own personal blanket that you were dead set on keeping. You gripped her hoodie, clutching it in your hands as if letting go would make her disappear. This was the only thing you needed after a long day. 

No one knew what to do, watching you, someone they didn’t know, curl up with their teammate, someone they did know who wasn’t one for physical affection or showing any signs of what they were feeling besides being annoyed. It was odd.

“Uh, Azzi-”

“Shh.” Azzi cut KK off with a simple sound, holding you tighter like she was protecting you from her friends’ words. 

Despite the circumstances, Azzi’s lips turned into a soft smile, not caring that her friends were seeing her like this, she loved having you in her arms, it was her favorite thing in the world. The feel of you against her, providing warmth both physically and emotionally, the way you looked so adorable with your face smushed against her chest, the soft snores you sometimes let out if you stayed in that position for one too many minutes. She was sure there was no better feeling than this. 

It didn’t take long for you to drift off, not even the slightest bit put off by the five or six other people staring at you as you made yourself comfortable. As long as Azzi was with you, you could fall asleep anywhere. 

A few minutes after you dozed off, Paige cleared her throat, eyes flickering between your face and her friend’s, “So…”

Azzi looked up, her previous blissful expression falling off, and a hardened one took over, “Yes?”

“Who’s this?” Paige’s face was all but amused, her lips turned into a teasing smile, a mischievous gleam in her eyes.

“None of your business.”

“Oh, c’mon, Az. She waltzes in here like she owns the place, doesn’t even bat an eye at who’s here before practically jumping on you, and then falls asleep with your arms around her. We’re dumb, not stupid.”

She just rolled her eyes, her gaze softening as she looked back down at you, brushing your hair behind your ear, away from your face. She sighed softly before nodding, “Fine. What do you want to know?”

“When did you meet her?” “What’s her name?” “How long has this been going on?” “How’d she get you to-” 

She glared at them as you shifted, their overlapping voices too loud for you to ignore. They shut up quickly at her stare, watching as your head turned to lie on the other side before your breathing evened out once again. 

“One at a time and be quiet.”

“What’s her name?”

“Her name’s y/n.”

“When did you guys meet?”

“We met six months ago when classes started, she’s in my finance class.”

“When did you-”

“Four months ago.”

“How-”

“She has that effect on people.” Azzi’s voice murmured, peering down at you again, fingers running through your hair to further calm you down as you slept. 

No one spoke again, watching their friend’s actions with small smiles on their faces. They were never really sure they would see a soft side to Azzi Fudd, but now that they met you - if you could even call it a meeting -, they were sure that would change. 

AF35 ; WBB MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

[nebulablakemurphy]

Everest asks y/n and Haymitch to tell Arista about when happened to them before she find out like he did. How do you think they had that conversation?

“We need to talk to you about something.”

Arista nods, taking a seat on the ottoman as the sitting room door closes.

“If at any time you need to take a minute or if you’d like for one of us to leave the room, we will do that. Whatever makes this easiest for you-”

“Ok.” Arista cuts her father off, now nervous and fidgeting herself.

“Your father and I…well you know sometimes as victors we had to perform for the cameras.” Y/N begins, taking a seat beside Haymitch on the couch.

“I remember.”

“There were other things.” Y/N looks to her husband, “that we had to do to-”

“I made a deal to keep your mother safe after she won the games.”

“What kind of deal?” Arista wonders.

“I agreed to…” I can’t say it. Not out loud. Not to her.

“President Snow would sell him to higher ups in the Capitol.” Y/N tells her daughter, rubbing circles into Haymitch’s back.

“Like for…you know?” Sex?

“Yeah, honey.”

“You can’t just sell people.” Arista huffs, looking between her parents. “It’s wrong.”

“It is,” Y/N nods. “It was.”

“Are you ok?” Arista looks to her father, eyes full of unshed tears.

Haymitch nods, “yeah, baby. I’m ok.”

“It stopped when you got married though.” Arista decides. She can live with that.

“We got married so that I wouldn’t be sold.” Y/N admits. “But we still had to…be filmed together. That footage was sold instead.”

Arista feels ill, her head is light. Stomach churning.

Y/N moves from the sitting room couch, returning with the nearby waste bin. Holding it out to Arista, who isn’t sure if she’s going to barf or pass out.

“Don’t go.” Arista insists, tugging at her hand when Y/N begins moving back to the sofa.

Y/N sits down beside her on the ottoman, facing Haymitch. His hands shift restlessly as he stares down at them. She pulls Arista closer, cradling her the way she has since she was young.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Come.”

Haymitch forces himself to his feet, closing the space between them and seating himself on the opposite side of his daughter. Unsure of what else to do, he passes a hand over her hair. “I’m sorry.”

“Some of it was real right?” The marriage. “I mean you love each other.”

“We do,” Y/N assures her. “We love each other and that is real. It might not have started out the way we wanted, but I love your dad so much. I love you so much and I would never want a life without you in it.”

Arista nods.

“So when I say what I’m about to say, I need you to know that.”

Arista sucks in a breath, feeling her father begin to stroke her hair again, bracing her. “Ok.”

“When we’d been married for a couple months, Snow told us that we needed to have a baby.”

“He made you have Everest?” Arista blanches.

“Having a child while the games were still going on was a huge risk.” Haymitch tells her, “we didn’t want to take that risk. But we love Everest, we’ve always loved him.”

“Then why did you have me?” If her parents wouldn’t take that risk once, why a second time? Why a third?

“Because we-” Y/N breaks off.

Oh. Arista gets it now, “had to.”

“I wish you didn’t have to know all this.” Haymitch murmurs, “I wish it could’ve stayed in the past, between me and your mother; where it belongs. But if the only say we get in the matter is how you get to hear this story for the first time, then we wanted to be the ones to tell you.” Better to hear it from people who love you.

“We didn’t get to do that for Everest.” Y/N admits, “and we regret it everyday.”

“He knows you love him, Mom.” Arista says, “we all do.”

[caffedrine]

Golden Week 2025 - April Fools - Ricci Corporation - Fan Translation

If you trust me to know what I'm doing, then we have both made a huge mistake. I cannot guarantee accuracy for this fan translation, or even grammatical correctness.

Please support Cybird and pick up this event when it makes it to the English Server

Ricci Corporation

A month had passed since I joined Ricci Corporation—a world-famous giant that oversees the distribution of all things.

Emma: "Haaa..."

Rio: "Emma, what's with that cute little sigh?"

Emma: "I was just thinking… you're really amazing, Rio."

Rio: "...Emma complimented me. I could die right now and have no regrets in life."

Emma: "You're not allowed to die… But today again, you went out on sales visits and brought back several deals, right?"

Emma: "And from that famous Dompteur Holdings group, no less."

Rio: "It was just luck. Apparently, someone over there knew me from Prista."

Emma: "As expected of the ultra-popular Pristagrammer who rivals actual celebrities..."

Emma: "Didn’t your follower count just pass 5 million the other day?"

Rio: "Wait—Emma, you follow me too?"

Emma: "I do. Your posts always feature stuff I like, so I look forward to your updates."

Rio: "Really!? That’s great. That account’s actually for you, you know."

Emma: "...What?"

Rio: "Becoming well-known means I get access to all sorts of new info…"

Rio: "So no matter when we go on a date, I’ll be fully prepared."

Rio: "And if I have money, I can shower you with gifts…!"

Azel: "Shower with gifts… What a lovely phrase."

Rio: "You just jumped in out of nowhere!?"

Azel: "Apologies. I couldn’t help but overhear such an amusing—ahem, fascinating conversation."

Azel: "I was listening from the beginning, but back to the point—what was that sigh about?"

Rio: "Oh, right. Emma, if something’s bothering you, I’ll listen."

Emma: "Mm… It’s not really a problem. I’m okay."

Azel (mimicking dramatically): "Why can’t I land deals like Rio…? Everyone else is so competent, I feel like I’m the only one falling short… Waaah…!"

Emma: "How did you know!?"

Azel: "I'm a god—I mean, a top-tier consultant."

Rio: "But Emma, didn’t you land that deal with the GVO Group the other day?"

Emma: "That was just one deal. I don’t have as many connections as you, Rio."

Rio: "Landing a deal from GVO is a major achievement, you know?"

(He says that, but compared to the other star recruits in sales, my numbers still fall short...) (No, it’s not just Rio.) (This company is full of highly competent people, so I’ve got to work even harder.)

Silvio: "What are you guys talking about?"

Rio: "Ugh—it’s him."

Silvio: "Huh? Watch your tone when talking to the CEO, punk."

Rio: "Oww, oww—don’t grab my head, it’s gonna crack!"

Keith: "Emma, it’s been a while."

Emma: "Mr. Keith! It has been a while. I didn’t realize you were here."

Keith: "Yeah. I came to pitch an idea to Mr. Silvio."

Keith: "Are you getting used to the new company?"

Emma: "Well… sort of…"

Azel: "She seems to be struggling with a slump in her sales performance."

Silvio: "Huh? Didn’t she just land that deal with GVO the other day?"

Silvio: "I don’t know how you talked that eye-patch guy into it, but that deal was a major win."

Azel: "Wow, that’s exactly what Rio said."

Rio: "Ow, ow, ow! Why are you squeezing my head so hard!?"

Keith: "To get a result like that after just one month—that’s impressive. You’ve got talent for sales, Emma."

Emma: "Thank you. I still have a long way to go, though."

Emma: "Everyone at Ricci Corporation is so talented—it really keeps me on my toes."

Azel: "Hard to take you seriously when you say that with such a gloomy face."

Silvio: "...Hey, girl. Then why don’t you take on that project Mr. Gloom-and-Doom brought in?"

Emma: "Eh...?"

Rio: "Better not be throwing her into something impossible."

Silvio: "Oh, it’s high difficulty for sure. The client is that stuck-up conglomerate."

Azel: "Ah, the Michel Conglomerate. A veritable treasure chest—I quite like them."

Emma: "The Michel Conglomerate!? Isn’t that the one led by that famously ruthless CEO who runs everything with brutal efficiency...?"

Keith: "Yeah, that’s the one. Apparently, the CEO is looking for partners for a new business venture."

Keith: "I heard from a friend—Mr. Clavis—that they’ll be holding a logistics competition soon, so I came to give you a heads-up."

Silvio: "The CEO’s supposed to be attending the competition in person. I want you to pitch our plan and land the deal directly."

Emma: "You're assigning such an important role to me…? Are you sure?"

Silvio: "I said you’re doing it. You need another reason?"

Azel: "Don’t worry. As long as I’m compensated, I’ll help out."

Azel: "As long as I’m compensated."

Rio: "Of course I’ll help too, Emma! If you’re ready to take this on, I’ll support you all the way."

(Honestly, just thinking about it makes my legs tremble.) (But this is a job the CEO personally assigned to me. I won’t let this opportunity go to waste.)

Emma: "Thank you. I’ll win this project—no matter what it takes."

Silvio: "Hah! At least you’ve got guts."

(Alright, time to get started on preparations—!)

—Two weeks until the competition.

(The materials should be here somewhere…) (But there’s just too much to go through—I can’t find it.)

Azel: "Looking for these documents?"

Emma: "Mr. Azel! How did you know—"

Azel: "I’m a god—I mean, a top-tier consultant. How many times are we going to have this exchange?"

Azel: "I’m also Silvio’s errand boy, so I know where everything is stored."

Emma: "A top-tier consultant and… an errand boy?"

Azel: "Is that a problem?"

Emma: "N-no, not at all! Thank you so much, Mr. Azel!"

Emma: "Wait—why are you holding the documents up like that…?"

Azel: "Surely you didn’t think they were free."

Emma: "...There’s a charge?"

Azel: "Of course. I have a strict no-free-labor policy."

Emma: "I’m sorry… I don’t have any cash on me right now…"

Azel: "I happen to know you're hiding a delicious-looking homemade bento."

Azel: "Not just one—for lunch and dinner. Enough for two people, yes?"

Emma: "...Would you like to share it with me later?"

Azel: "How agreeable. In that case, here you go."

Emma: "Thank you—for real this time!"

Azel: "If you need any other materials, I’d be happy to assist... for a fee, of course."

Emma: "Ugh… At this rate, I feel like you’re going to strip me of everything… You wouldn’t happen to know where the previous competition documents are, would you?"

Azel: "I expect my own personal bento tomorrow."

Emma: "Y-yes! I’ll make a formal offering—please look forward to it!"

—1 week until the competition.

(If I don’t finish preparing the documents by today, I won’t have time for review.) (I might miss the last train home... but if that happens, I’ll deal with it. Time to buckle down.)

Rio: "Hey Emma, I’m feeling this overwhelming urge to work right now. Got anything for me to do?"

Emma: "It’s already past office hours, you know?"

Rio: "It’s always been a dream of mine to work overtime alongside my beloved Emma."

Rio: "But I’ve finished all my tasks, and I’ve got nothing left... so, I thought maybe you could share?"

Emma: "...You’re doing this for my sake, aren’t you?"

Rio: "Sorry, this time it’s for me."

Rio: "If it’s data-related work, it’s something anyone else can handle, right?"

Rio: "I just want to work late with you. Please?"

Emma: "...You’re always so kind, Rio. Thank you."

Emma: "Okay then, I’ll take you up on your offer. Could you handle these pages?"

Rio: "Gladly! Ah, our first joint task together..."

Emma: "I’ll have to thank you somehow. Rio, if I made a bento, would you eat it?"

Rio: "Eat it? Absolutely. I’d love to! Please let me eat it!"

Rio: "Emma’s homemade bento... Uh-oh. Just imagining it is giving me a nosebleed..."

Emma: "Fufu, you’re being dramatic. You like pain perdu, right?"

Emma: "I’ll make sure to include it in the lunch."

Rio: "Thank you, Emma. I’m so glad to be alive...!"

Rio: "I’ll work even harder! I’ll be your loyal dog for life, so feel free to work me to the bone, Emma!"

—3 days until the competition.

Keith: "Emma... are you okay?"

Emma: "Hello, Mr. Keith. I wouldn’t say I’m ‘okay’ exactly..."

Keith: "Yeah, when you got into the elevator just now, you looked like you were about to collapse."

Emma: "Oh... I guess I just let my guard down a little. The competition’s getting close, and I haven’t been sleeping well from the nerves."

(Wow... I must really be a mess if someone from outside the company is worried about me.) (At this rate, I might mess everything up on the big day. I need to do something about this...)

Keith: "I know. Emma, if you don’t mind, I’d like you to have this."

Emma: "An energy drink?"

Keith: "Yeah, it’s a new product from our company."

Keith: "It’s specially formulated for recovery and meant to be taken before bed."

Keith: "This product is meant for hardworking women like you, Emma—so I’d love to hear your feedback."

Emma: "If that’s the case… thank you very much, Mr. Keith."

Emma: "...Huh? ‘You can do this. I’m cheering you on.’ …This writing—?"

Keith: "Ah, so you noticed."

Keith: "Azel told me that you’ve been working yourself to the bone day and night..."

Keith: "So I’ve been carrying that around, hoping to give it to you when I saw you."

Keith: "...Sorry if that came off as creepy."

Emma: "Not at all! I’m really happy... truly."

Emma: "Thank you so much. I’ll do my best so I can bring you good news."

—The day of the competition.

(Whoa... there are so many people here…) (And... that must be the head of the Michele Conglomerate, Lord Chevalier.) (This pressure… It’s intense. I feel like my heart might leap out of my mouth.)

Silvio: "Hah! What are you getting scared for?"

Emma: "...President Silvio."

Silvio: "Don’t start sounding like you're gonna cry. Chin up, walk tall, and get in there."

Silvio: "You didn’t bring a half-baked presentation, did you?"

Emma: "Of course not. I... I’m confident in it."

(Azel and Rio helped me. Mr. Keith encouraged me. I can’t afford to lose heart now.)

Emma: "I’m just... a little fired up, that’s all."

Silvio: "Don’t walk onstage like you’re flailing all your limbs at once, got it?"

Emma: "I—I won't… probably…"

Silvio: "Where’s all that confidence gone?"

Emma: "Wah—President! Please don’t ruffle my hair! It’ll ruin the style!"

Silvio: "Then get it together. No one will fault you for giving it your all, no matter the outcome."

Silvio: "And if someone does, I’ll deal with them. The only one who’s allowed to complain is me."

Emma: "So you will complain."

Silvio: "Of course. In my position, I can’t just say ‘failure is fine.’"

Silvio: "You didn’t want someone soft on you from the start, did you?"

Silvio: "I’m putting my trust in you. Just focus on winning."

(…It’s strange. Hearing him say that actually makes me feel like I can do this.)

Emma: "Thank you, President."

Emma: "Even if I trip over my own feet—I’ll make sure this is a success!"

~Later~

Rio: "Emma! Congratulations!!"

Keith: "I heard you landed the project at the competition."

Azel: "Now would be the perfect time to offer me a generous cooperation bonus, wouldn’t it?"

Emma: "Everyone... You already heard, huh?"

Silvio: "Tch. You guys are so noisy. Don’t all barge into my office at once and start squawking."

Rio: "Ouch, ouch, ouch—why am I the only one getting hit!?"

Emma: "I was planning to visit each of you later, so this actually works out perfectly."

Emma: "Thank you so much for all your support during this competition."

Emma: "I truly don’t think I could’ve done by myself."

Emma: "Azel and Rio helped me… Mr. Keith and President Silvio pushed me forward…"

Emma: "This win was only possible because of all of you."

Silvio: "Now you’re getting it. That’s your talent."

Emma: "...My talent?"

Silvio: "A company is a team effort. If you’re the kind of person others want to help or cheer on, you’re bound to go far."

Silvio: "Your abilities are different from this mutt’s. Comparing them is pointless."

Silvio: "I’m the one giving you that evaluation, so quit beating yourself up already."

(...Oh no, I think I’m going to cry.) (I kept thinking I wasn’t pulling my weight compared to everyone else...) (But at least President Silvio doesn’t see me that way.)

Azel: "By the way, President, how about we hold a dinner party to celebrate Emma’s success?"

Azel: "I’ve already made the reservation."

Silvio: "You just want a free meal, don’t you?"

Azel: "Exactly."

Keith: "You’re refreshingly honest, as always, Mr. Azel."

Silvio: "Fine. I’m starving anyway—let’s go eat."

Silvio: "I’ll treat everyone except the mutt. Eat whatever you like."

Rio: "You cheapskate!"

Silvio: "Huh?"

Emma: "President Silvio, please stop—if you hit Rio again, his head will split open!"

Keith: "I’ve got medicine."

Emma: "That’s not the point!"

Azel: "Now, now—the car is already waiting. Let’s be on our way."

Silvio: "...You really don’t miss a trick."

As laughter echoed, the lights of the executive office were turned off.

(I want to keep doing my best at this company, from now on, and always.)

[thevibraniumveterans]

Ok, can’t believe I didn’t realize this until like 3 minutes ago, but in his childhood, the only types of physical contact were all negative, and if I’m assuming right, his dad would beat him and hit him. I don’t know if his mom ever raised her hands against him, but it still didn’t help matters.

Then along came Yelena.

She means him no harm, and in fact was the first person who did NOT seek to manipulate or harm him in any way or form. Outside the incinerator chamber, she takes him aside and talks to him as a fellow person. Never once did she ever raise her hands against him. She sees him as someone to protect, someone who deserves the care he never quite received as a child, someone who is just as if not more broken than she is. It’s not pity that she shows him; she sees him and understands him. She is gentle with him, but doesn’t treat him as if though he might shatter at any moment. She shows concern for him. She cares about him.

I’d previously left my thoughts in comments on other posts, but I’d like to point out that while I really, REALLY like their dynamic (and whatever it is that they have going on), I don’t know if *I* personally see them together as a couple. That said, their relationship and dynamic does actually share characteristics of various types of other relationships and dynamics, so it’s not that easy to boil it down to one of several descriptors. What they have, has characteristics of friendship AND family (motherly, sisterly).

The bond that they have is really quite distinct, and transcends any kind of labels. There are multiple arguments to be made in favor of opinions such as “is she like a sister to him?” (Yes.), “is she his friend?” (Also yes.), “is she part of his newfound family now?” (Unsurprisingly, yes.), “can they be a couple?” (Sure, I guess.) And ALL CAN BE TRUE at the same time! They’ve formed an emotional connection with each other. She’s the light in his darkness, his grounding force, his tether to reality. He’s the brother she gained, the family she needed, the friend she can believe in. He asks for her when he doesn’t see her; she sees him at his highest AND lowest and still does not judge.

They are each other’s person and don’t need labels. Is it not too much to ask that they just exist outside of typical adjectival relationship descriptors, because they’re not typical in any way, shape, or form? They’re just as if not more broken than the rest of their teammates, and while they might not make each other whole, they still matter enough to each other.

There are so many other ways to describe their relationship and dynamic.

She makes him feel safe and accepted.

In two separate interviews with the New York Times and Men’s Health Magazine, Lewis Pullman says that Bob and Yelena’s chemistry was informed by the real life dynamic he had with his castmate Florence Pugh, saying:

“She is one of the first people who really sees him. They have this commonality of desperateness for connection and for meaning. That was something that I related to with Florence. She was so generous and compassionate toward me coming into this world. She saw that I felt like I didn't belong and didn't feel like I was going to be able to ever rid myself of this impostor syndrome. And she took it upon herself to be a very supportive, not just castmate, but friend. And that's hopefully what you see on camera.”

And

“So much of it comes down to Florence just being an outlier of a person and an artist. She is so full of joy and humor, and she experiences life in such a rich way. She doesn't let any moment pass without being very conscious and deliberate about it. I grew very close to her, and very fond of her, because she also took me under her wing. I think it was very much reminiscent of when she first joined the Marvel Universe and how intimidating it was. I felt instantly like I was in good hands. I trusted her. And so I owe it all to her. You know, anything that feels like it was real on camera was the result of Florence being so gracious, and human, and embracing.”

The way he describes his dynamic with Florence Pugh could also be used to describe what Bob has with Yelena.

❗️❗️spoilers Thunderbolts* ❗️❗️

So I noticed they were very tactile...And since the start!!!

Can we take a minute to talk about it 🫠

[fallloverfic]

Thoughts on To Be Hero X Episode 6: Two E-Souls

What an episode XD

I'm a bit worried about shipping anyone because my characters of interest seem to keep dying alkdjal Yes, Nice died (presumably) in Episode 1, but Wreck also maybe died later lakdjla Ah well, it's never stopped me before!!

They really pushed Shang Chao and Yang Cheng together this episode. Yes, there was lots of love triangle stuff, but surprisingly interesting moments of making Shang Chao matter a lot more to Yang Chang. I know the idea is to make Shang Chao's death more relevant for Yang Cheng, but still.

Just... this whole sequence with Rock setting them up, and it being framed as an awkward date. Shang Chao having interest in Yang Cheng... I love it. I love all of it. Even if he could have alternate reasons for it like money (maybe), building up his own hero business, platonic friendship, or even just because Xia Qing likes Yang Cheng, this is still so adorable.

I still love E-Soul's secretary(?) and his pink outfit. Looking fly, sir.

I think the episode handles the identity fraud thing in odd way, but eh. I think another point should be made how 1) there are many actors pretending to be E-Soul, and even contests for who can be the best, which E-Soul seems to support, so by certain standards, this is fine and allowed, and 2) it would be kind of complicated to make people stop believing in Yang Cheng, which is kind of what Shang Chao is saying. Identity fraud is an individual choice, not a mass movement of people convinced you're someone else.

I didn't think about it last episode, but this arc is giving me Death of Superman vibes.

Yes, Yang Cheng using his new powers to... electrocute children. I imagine it's just static shock (another great DC Comics character), but... well... It's good to remember that electric shocks can kill and tasers can be very dangerous, even if they're meant to just knock people out, which even on its own is dangerous for a variety of reasons. Even static can be bad. If nothing else, it can burn and paralyze.

There's something really tragic about E-Soul going from this person who fought actual villains (maybe) to... selling action figures of himself. A lot of celebrities do it, obviously, it's just framed in a really kind of sad way? Like ah yes, we're holding a press conference to announce the limited edition statues of myself.

I'm just saying, Yang Cheng doesn't wear the gloves all the time. He could have had it off while Shang Chao worked on it. He didn't. This was a choice. I notice that right hand Shang Chao. I NOTICE IT!!!!

It's also really lovely how hard Shang Chao and Xia Qing are supporting Yang Cheng. Shang Chao is putting a lot of effort into it, not just from a money and convincing his father angle, but also clearly through his technical expertise.

They're just so cute. "It comes from each person that supports, trusts, and loves you." INDEED. THAT LAST ONE THOUGH. Followed almost immediately by putting his hand on Yang Cheng's shoulder.

He believes so hard in Mr. Hero.

I love when Shang Chao is driving the car towards the ongoing crime, and Shang Chao is also talking animatedly into a walkie talkie and Xia Qing is tightly holding onto her seatbelt, looking reasonably concerned about the distracted driver. She deserves better. Poor woman.

I have a weakness for speedsters: I've been a Cyborg 009 fangirl for years. Yang Cheng and E-Soul are not 1:1 with Joe, but there's just a little in the scenes where Yang Cheng races off. His determination and conflict feel similar, too and I actually think they're similar in age.

I also think we hear Yang Cheng's theme/E-Soul's theme(?) in this scene. It sounds nice! If anyone has a link to it, I'll add it to the post.

The whole Yang Cheng fight scene was really cool. Babe doing great!!

I know a lot of us suspected that Shang Chao was the true villain behind everything, and who knows, maybe he really is all along or something, but I like to think he's innocent, he just wants to support Yang Cheng. And that support is really adorable. Taking photos, planning events... It's just really cute. I do, however, wonder why he at no point hires a lawyer. I'm glad he thought up the petition, and it's great his father (maybe Mr. Shand?) managed to get Enlighter, but a lawyer would also have been nice, too :D I mean unless pink dude was a lawyer, E-Soul didn't seem to have one at the mediation either, even with all his money and connections, so I don't know...

It was nice to see Enlighter again. And he's kind of random, but fun! Also, although he's not a lawyer, he does the semi-accurate thing by casting doubt onto the evidence: they can't prove it was Yang Cheng, and it's very unlikely it was him. They can't prove Yang Cheng is guilty. That's likely how a case would have been handled. Though it wouldn't have worked out in this specific fashion. The goal of the defense isn't to find who committed the crime, it's to show how weak the evidence/the case against the defendant is.

They're just so cute, they end me. Every time Yang Cheng feels doubt, Shang Chao is there being like hey :3 Yes, I know Shang Chao asked Xia Qing out. I'm not into the ship, but I support anyone going for an OT3 thing here. Still, I'm rooting for my guys.

And then, alas, the bullet they were previewing... hits Shang Chao. This show sure does have it out for characters associated with the color yellow (Nice, Wreck, Moon, Shang Chao). I think it's interesting he was playing with the helmet when it happened, maybe to tease the theories about him becoming E-Soul or something. And obviously it's to accidentally make the gunman think he's Yang Cheng.

Sad days, sad days. But hey, maybe he's fine (that's not really what a gunshot to the head looks like, so maybe it was a graze, plus, it hit him through the helmet, which might have been armored to some degree, even if it didn't fully stop the bullet)! We'll see next episode, I suppose. (Though the preview for Episode 7 seems to show Yang Cheng and Xia Qing attending a funeral, even though we had a fake-out funeral before with Moon). And who hired the assassin? Pink dude? E-Soul? The fear villain? Someone else? Was it just a rabid fan of the original E-Soul or Yang Cheng? We'll have to see. It definitely seems to make sense why that portal E-Soul (presumably Yang Cheng) was attacking older E-Soul in the character trailer.

Again, I really like how they're using 3D animation in this series and swapping between art styles. It's a lot of fun. But every time they do the 2D, it makes me really wish that was the primary way they were doing the series... It's so much nicer looking...

Overall, it was a great episode. Looking forward to Episode 7! (And if you need some Shang Chao/Yang Cheng comfort, here you go)

More thoughts:

Episode 1, Episode 2, Episode 3, Episode 4, Episode 5, Episode 6 (You are here)

[abigailovesz]

LARISSA GENRETTE & JJ GENRETTE HEADCANNONS/THOUGHTS

cw: angst n fluff, kook!jj, might make this into something bigger?? GUYS ive been waiting to post this for weeks. reason im doing this - i was immediately interested in the lore behind larissa and jjs family, but then i literally crashed out when they barely gave ANY info about this beautiful woman(larissa) soo..

jj's the kind of boy who literally worships his mom.

jj would idolize larissa. she’s elegant, clever, probably had a tough edge but a warm heart-everything jj naturally gravitates toward for comfort and guidance y'know??

emotional regulation? way better

jj probably learns to regulate his emotions better. not perfectly-he’s still got that wild streak-but she would’ve taught him how to name his feelings instead of toying with them. his anger wouldn’t come from a place of neglect but from fierce loyalty and passion.

jj still surfs and gets in trouble like no matter what, but he comes home to her

jj would still be a kook, but he doesn't look down on pogues if anything, he's friends with them. he still mischievous, still beach loving, still fucking crazy but the difference is: he has a soft place to land. he comes home bruised from a fight, and instead of hiding it or brushing it off, he lets his mom clean him up. and she lectures him with love in her voice.

larissa is the only person who can get through to him

when he spirals, when he’s yelling or being too wild, she’s the one who can calm him down with just a look. not even john b has that kind of power. her voice is like a balm to him-just one “jj, baby-breathe.” and he listens.

he calls her “mama”, duh.

not “mom.” not “ma.” “mama.” And he says it a little quieter when he’s hurt. “mama… can you come here?” when he’s pretending he’s fine but really just needs her.

she knows when he’s lying

and he hates it because she’s the only one who can still call him on it. “jj, your eyes twitch when you lie. you always forget.” and he groans and throws himself on the couch like -“you know me just too well, mama.”

he learns how to treat women through her

jj becomes that guy who treats any women like queens-not because someone taught him through shame, but because he grew up watching how his mom should be treated. and he refuses to be less than that standard.

he’s for sure the one who braids her hair like everyday

when larissa wakes up in the morning, jj sits behind her on the couch and does her hair. he learned how from watching some youtube video or from her teaching him when he was little. his fingers are usually clumsy but careful.

he tells her everything (eventually)

he’s stubborn, and he hides things when he’s upset. but she always knows. he might storm into his room and slam the door-but two hours later, he’s leaning against the doorframe going, “mama, can we talk?” shy n all ya know?

OTHER.. (kinda made up my mind, i'm making a fic bout this cause what? after dust n fire though !)

hes paired with...lavender!reader

kinda just hints of the fic :)

when it starts...

you were hired by larissa to help out with the garden on weekends-nothing big, just planting, pruning, keeping things beautiful. you showed up with dirt under your nails, soft eyes, and a quiet “hi, I’m y/n” jj walks out of the house to grab a drink, sees you crouched over a row of lavender, and forgets what day it is.

your kind to larissa- that’s his first weak spot.

you speak gently to larissa, you ask her how her day is going, brings her an extra pair of gloves when it’s hot. jj watches you through the kitchen window and feels something he doesn’t have words for - like you already belong here, like his mom’s voice sounds a bit more relaxed around you.

larissa notices before either of you do

she sees the way jj’s face changes when your around. larissa doesn’t say anything- she just lets it bloom. she tells jj one night, “she’s not like the rest of em, baby. you’ll have to be gentle.” jj just swallows hard. “I know.”

a/n: write your thoughts cause i wanna see what you think !

[paperaddictionss]

Katsuki Bakugou

~~ His POV of Y/N (deeply in love) ~~

~~

I watched her from afar admiring the way she threw her head back everytime she laughed, the sweet sound echoing throughout the whole pool ringing in my ears, the sweet melody was something i would never forget.

I wasn’t used to feeling this way about anyone, usually just full of anger. My feelings they were intense for her and i didn’t know why it was her, she was a little nerd. But what i did know was that i truly…loved her, whatever love is anyway.

Her eyes glistened against the sun, going a lighter shade to their usual colour, Y/N’s eyes always had a glimmer in them they always shone. I guess it just proves how precious she is, i find myself smiling as i think of her and watch her with her friends, the heat rapidly increasing in my face.

I turned away so none of my classmates caught onto my blushing, i cleared my throat trying to distract myself but how could i when someone so beautiful was stood across the pool from me.

Y/N wasn’t just a pretty face, but a pretty soul too, she was kind, she was caring, she’d do anything for anyone no matter how bad they treated her because that’s just who she was. She radiated love and beauty. Though i could never be like that because of my anger it was still admirable.

But most of all what i loved about Y/N is she didn’t treat me how everyone else did, she didn’t see me as an angry, troubled, rude kid- she saw past that. She saw me. I don’t think anyone has ever done that. That’s why she was special because despite my whirlwind and cloud of frustration she saw me as an actual human being, with feelings other than anger.

I have liked her for as long as i can remember, which i’ll never admit in fear of rejection. But if i did get the chance one day, if she liked me back. I’d make her feel like the most beautiful girl in the world, because that’s what she was. She deserved the world giving to her if not more.

I turned back around watching how gentle she was with things, my eyes didn’t even drift to her body once. They remained on her sweet, angelic face. She was more than just a beautiful body, she was a piece of artwork, a unique well-taken care of creation.

She made me feel like i didn’t have to be so mad at the world, like i didn’t have to be such a loud-mouthed smartass. She made me want to be good, to do good.

Her soul was hand crafted by the God’s themselves, her mind was a portrait of purity and love and her body was a jigsaw puzzle perfectly put together. My love and admiration grew for her everyday. I hope she knows what a beautiful soul she is.

~~

[koka-mi]

Oh my gosh whyyyy am I so obsessed with numbers I don't like it at all this is driving me INSANEEEE😭😭IT'S GETTING WORSE AND WORSE AS THE DAYS GO BY AAAA

[harvestmoth]

what do we think about pet store workers team xen

[blueivyy99]

Calm and Serenity (Part 3)

Sylus x Non!MC

summary: you didn't know what sylus saw in you. he said you were calm, quiet and serene and that's what he needs. you believed it. he showed it. not until little miss hunter came. she's everything you're not. news that she's in danger can make the ever so calm sylus to run and leave everything behind. it made you think, would he do that for you as well?

tags: angst, romance, hurt and comfort, confused sylus, non-mc reader (this is it for now)

taglist: @fcknblsht @aboobie @nin10doo @ixloom819 @damatically @sylusgirlie7 @stellisangelicus-world @kira-loves0905 @wanderlustingcastaway @browneyedgirl22 @lumieresdreams

notes: thank you for the love in the last chapter 😭😭😭 I WAS SO OVERWHELMED OMG though I can't reply one by one, i read them all and thoroughly enjoyed and basked in them ❤️ hope you enjoy this.

Series Masterlist

Sweet Evil Trap

Pepper walnut tart, rosemary gelato, pomegranate jelly, red wine marshmallow, and 10.5 grams of soul.

Description:

I'm waiting for you

You're pathetic.

That's what you tell yourself as your hands tremble at Elysium's menu. The one that is always unavailable whenever you go there and rumors say that it was never available at all.

Now you understand why.

After reading everything in Sylus's journal, you started investigating the things that don't make sense to you. You already know that they spent past lives together and their souls are tied with each other. Everything makes sense except this one.

There was no context about Sweet Evil Trap in his notebook but your memory took you back to countless night outs here in Elysium to recall the name of this dessert.

10.5 grams of soul.

You chuckled bitterly. Half of his soul is hers. Always for her. In every goddamn lifetime.

Where were you in this narrative? What piece of him do you have? Certainly not his heart if there are still traces of Miss Hunter in every corner of N109 Zone.

I'm waiting for you.

Yeah right. He's been waiting for years, lifetime even. So what were you doing here? What's your role in this?

A past time?

Someone to warm his bed?

Did he truly love you in the span of your relationship? You tried to keep your tears at bay, but they fell one after the other.

You and Miss Hunter are entirely different. She's fun, bright, and full of sunshine. She can even hold herself in a fight.

You?

You're just you. A jack of all trades. Can do everything but not the best at anything. You can fight, but surely after two or three wanderers you're gone. You're funny at best, but even that you're not that sure because she can make Sylus laugh more than you did.

In short, she's everything you're not. She's everything Sylus wanted and it really really pisses you off because you fucking loved him and yet …

yet …

Even if you gave it your all, he doesn't really see you. He's with you but he's yearning for someone else. And you're so so stupid because you're still staying. You're still hoping that even if she has returned, Sylus will see your worth. That he will change his mind.

That maybe he will choose you.

Maybe he realized you're the one he loved, not her. That maybe, he's willing to defy fate just to be with you.

It was a small hope. But it's there. Because you wanted to hold on for as long as you can. You wanted to love him until it hurts. You want to stay for as long as he doesn't let you go.

And even if you will scold yourself in the future when you remember what you're doing now, you will still try.

You can feel that he sensed that something is off with you; he is perceptive after all. Because after that night, no matter how much you try to hold yourself together, the cracks in your soul still manifest.

If it were before, you're sure that as soon as he woke up you will be all over him taking care of him and making sure that he is well-fed. But after that incident, you just can't seem to stay close to him. Not for now, at least because you're sure that you will just cry and break.

“What's wrong Little fox?" He asked you one night. You tried to avoid him and planned to hide in the guest room and sleep there, but he looked for you and now he's right there looking at your soul.

“Nothing." You avoided eye contact. You can't. It physically hurts whenever you and he meet gazes. It's as if your mind kept replaying all the things you read in his journal.

He reached out for your hand but you flinched and avoided his touch. His hand paused midair because of it. You don't know what he's thinking now. You don't want to know. You're afraid that what you'll see is insincerity.

“Tell me, sweetie. What's wrong? What happened? You're worrying me," he persisted.

"It's nothing, Sylus. I'm gonna head to bed later. You go ahead first and rest." you turned your back at him and pretended to do something.

You wanted to ask him. You wanted to know.

But you're afraid.

Because what if he tells you the truth and leaves you? Can you bear that?

No. Not yet. Never.

So you kept silent. You won't ask questions that you're not ready to face the answers of.

“My sweet little fox, tell me anything and I will listen. I will do anything for you. Just ask." He kissed your temple before leaving.

His words are so sweet but is there really anything behind it? Is there love? Is there anything real with what you two have?

You kept avoiding and hiding from him. He got enough after two weeks. He backed you in a corner, his large frame making it hard for you to escape.

“Something is definitely wrong and I don't know what it is. It's killing me to see you like this, darling. If you're not gonna talk, then let me take your mind off of things. Go out to dinner with me." He held your chin to make you look at him.

You're trying to avoid his gaze. The fear is consuming you at every second that he is staring you down. Your insecurity and jealousy is winning and your mind can't process that this is real and that this is for you.

“Sy—"

“Shhh," he gave you a quick peck to shut you up. “It's not a request. That's an order. Dinner later. I miss my little fox,"

And thus, here you are at Elysium waiting for him with tears in your eyes. You decided to go ahead. You're sure you can't bear the car ride alone with him and even if he won't press you to open up, you can sense that he wants you to.

Your phone blows up. It's surely him inquiring why you went without him. You can't find it in yourself to even read his messages. It's all too much. Everything is too much.

10.5 grams of soul.

Those words kept ringing in your head. Half of his soul. Half that is not yours. You wiped your tears. You need to calm down. He might be here in a few minutes. You need to at least look presentable.

“Sweetie, why did you leave me?" You heard his voice from your back before his lips were on your cheeks already. “I want to spend some time with you during dinner, yes, but also before and after it."

“Sorry," that's all you can say afraid that he might hear the hoarseness of your voice.

He sighed, “Fine, but you're going home with me."

You didn't reply and he took that as a cue to get your orders ready. The food is good but every bite you chew, you can sense his eyes on you.

“I will melt if you keep staring at me,” you commented. He just smirked.

"Let me enjoy the view.”

You just shook your head. You can't form a reply because the fear and insecurity is kicking in again.

The two of you are silent for a while until Sylus's phone rang. You looked at him, really looked at him for the first time tonight.

There's that glint in his eyes again so you immediately knew who it was.

Miss Hunter.

Your suspicions are proven right when he answered the call. “Hello, Miss Hunter, what can I do for you?"

You bit your lip. You were expecting it but damn it hurts. Not even an apology towards you for interrupting your dinner by answering that call.

"What!? Where are you!?”

Your heart breaks every second. There he is again. Choosing her. That's for sure. You know what will happen next. He will leave, say sorry, and run to her side.

"I'm coming, wait for me! Don't you dare move a muscle.” he ended the call in a haste he was getting ready to leave if he didn't see you across the table.

“Darling, I-I need to leave, she needs me. She's in danger. I will make it up to you, I promise. I'm so sorry,”

But no amount of “sorry" can make up for everything that you're feeling now. Of course, he will go to her. He will always run to her.

His 10.5 grams of soul.

You sighed. You have made up your mind. You will free both of you from the burden of this relationship.

You stood, pulled him for a hug. You hugged him as tightly as you can. “Go, Sylus. I'll be fine."

He hugged you back, and oh god how you will miss that warmth. You can feel your breath getting caught in your lungs, but you have to hold back. Until he turns around at least.

“I'll make it up to you, darling. Wait for me okay? I love you. Luke and Kieran will be here in fifteen minutes. Wait for them. Don't go home alone." That's the last thing you heard from him before he stormed out.

You finally let your tears fall.

It's enough. You had enough.

You will leave his life calmly, quietly. You moved and walked away fast hoping Luke and Kieran won't see you on the streets of N109 Zone.

Part 4

comments and reaction are welcomeee 🤤

[kekewrites]

How to make a baby 101

Tw. dubcon, dark content, virginity loss, breeding kink, creampie, size difference, a lil age gap (2-4 years), sex education gone wrong, cunnilingus, coercion, nicknames, creampie, overstimulation, corruption, reader is ignorant and innocent (sheltered, kinda went a bit mute at the snusnu part), nerdy to cocky (character)

***

Step 1: Ask your childhood friend to help you study for your exam.

"Hmm? How to make a baby?" His eyes widen a little, a small flicker of something in his eyes as you ask him about reproduction system or along that line.

"Well," he said slowly, his voice still composed but with a hint of surprise, "that's not quite how it works." He paused, choosing his next words carefully. "Making a baby is a bit more...complicated than that."

Sitting cross-legged on the bed, you listened attentively as he explained the mechanics of reproduction, his deep voice a low rumble. The bedroom lamp cast a warm glow over the scattered textbooks and printouts, illuminating your curious expression.

"Okay, so the male produces sperm, which are essentially cells with a tail..." He paused, realizing how bizarre that sounded. He pressed on. "Right. And the female ovulates an egg once a month. When the egg is fertilized by the sperm, it starts dividing and..." He flipped to a diagram showing the developing fetus week by week.

Your brow furrowed, your finger tracing the arc of a tiny spine. "But... how does the sperm get inside the egg?" you asked, genuinely puzzled.

He cleared his throat, feeling a bead of sweat trickle down his neck despite the coolness of the room. He'd been dreading this part. "Uh... well, that happens through... sexual intercourse."

You blinked at him, "What's that mean?"

Fuck. Think, choose your words carefully.

"It means... when a man and a woman... um... physically join... their genitals..." His face felt like it was on fire.

You tilted your head, studying him with frank curiosity. "You mean like... when you put your penis in a girl's vagina?"

Direct, to the point, no nonsense. Just like her.

He blinked. Twice. Thrice. "Y-yes. Exactly like that," he managed to croak out.

"And the penis is like a big, FAT sperm," you said, matter-of-factly. "So the sperm comes out of there and swims up to the egg when the girl ovulates, and then they meet and the egg gets fertilized."

He stared at you, momentarily lost for words. "Er... yes. More or less," he agreed weakly.

Jesus fucking christ.

"But... why do you think the penis has to go inside the vagina to do that? Why can't the sperm just swim through the girl's belly button or something?" You asked, genuinely puzzled.

Because it fucking feels incredible, that's why. Among other reasons.

"W-well, because..." He took a deep breath. "The male... releases the sperm directly into the female's reproductive tract... to increase the chances of fertilizing the egg," he said, trying to keep his voice level.

God, could he sound more like a robot?

You nodded slowly, considering this. "Oh. Okay. So... the penis goes inside the vagina, and then the sperm comes out and swims up to the egg. That's how a baby gets made."

You're oversimplifying it, but... yes. Basically.

"That's right," He confirmed, feeling like a fraud. He'd failed to mention the vast majority of the process – the hormones, the emotions, the raw, animalistic need that drove humans to couple.

At least until she's old enough to understand... and maybe hate me for it.

Looking down at the diagrams strewn across the bedspread, frowning slightly. "I still don't really get why the penis has to be inside the vagina though..." she mused. "Is that like... really important?"

Fuck me, it's not just important, it's essential. Indispensable. Irresistible.

And I really need to stop thinking about this before I embarrass myself.

He swallowed hard, trying to keep his voice even. "It's... yes. It's very important. For biological reasons," he said shortly.

Like the fact that a man loses his goddamn mind with lust when he's buried inside a woman's tight, wet heat. Fuck.

"Oh. Okay..." You said slowly. "I guess that makes sense."

Thank fuck for that.

Tapping your chin thoughtfully. "So... the penis gets hard, and then it goes inside the vagina, and then the man ejaculates the sperm, and that's how a baby happens..."

Too fucking right it is. Among other things.

"...and then the egg gets fertilized, and the baby starts growing in the womb..."

He nodded jerkily. "Yes, that's... that's pretty much it," he agreed, feeling like he was standing in the middle of a firing range with a live grenade in his hand.

And I'm the fucking grenade.

"And then the baby comes out and..."

And a man comes so fucking hard he sees stars, buried balls-deep in a woman's clenching, spasming cunt...

You were still talking, but your voice faded into static as a dizzying rush of images flooded his brain. The slick glide of a woman's hot, velvety walls gripping his aching cock like a fist, the filthy slap of skin on skin, the debauched sounds of pleasure spilling from kiss-swollen lips...

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK.

Step 2: Preparing to make a baby.

"So first you need to get comfortable, lie back on the bed." He instructs calmly, his deep voice low and clear. He watches as you reluctantly complies, easing herself onto the edge of the bed.

"Good girl," he praises softly, careful not to let his growing desire bleed into his tone. "Now spread your legs for me, nice and wide. I need to inspect you closely first."

You hesitate a moment before slowly parting your thighs, revealing your most intimate area to his hungry gaze. He feels his cock twitch in anticipation but forces himself to focus.

"Beautiful..." he murmurs, more to himself than to you. He kneels down between your spread legs, bringing his face level with your core. Inhaling deeply, he catches the scent - musky and heady, already tinged with arousal.

"The first step is to get you nice and excited," he explains, his voice still calm despite the building heat between them. "I'm going to start by stimulating your clit. Can you tell me where that is?"

When you glance down uncertainly, "Shh, it's okay. I'll guide you."

He parts the lower lips with his thumbs, exposing the delicate flesh of your inner walls. Your clit peeks out from beneath its hood, already glistening slightly.

"There it is," he murmurs, tracing the swollen nub with the pad of his thumb. "It's this sensitive little button here. When I touch it, you'll feel sparks of pleasure. Don't fight it."

True to his word, he begins to stroke your clit with a feather-light touch, circling and flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves. Almost immediately, you gasp and writhes beneath his ministrations.

"That's it sweetheart," he encourages, his own breathing growing a bit ragged. "Let yourself feel good. Get nice and wet for me..."

His fingers delve deeper, parting your slick folds and seeking the entrance to her channel. "You're already so wet," he groans softly, feeling her silky walls clench around his probing touch. "That's perfect..."

He works his fingers inside, curling them to brush against that spongey spot deep within, as his thumb continues to circle your clit. The dual stimulation has you arching off the bed, breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

"Good girl, just like that," he praises huskily, pumping his fingers steadily in and out of her tight heat. "You're doing so well, sweetheart. Getting so nice and ready for me..."

He leans in closer, his warm breath ghosting over your drenched folds. The scent of your desire is intoxicating, making his head swim. Unable to resist, he dips his head and runs his tongue along your slit.

"Mmm, you taste divine," he rumbles, his voice vibrating, "I could eat this pretty pussy for hours..."

He seals his lips around your clit and suckles gently. At the same time, he increases the speed and pressure of his fingers pumping into, curling them to ruthlessly stimulate that special spot inside.

You cry out sharply, hips bucking up against his mouth as your pleasure spirals rapidly. He just grips your thighs tighter, holding in place as he continues his relentless assault. Feeling your walls starting to quiver and clench erratically around his plunging fingers.

"That's it, baby," he urges between licks and suckles, his words slightly muffled. "Come for me. I want to feel you come all over my tongue..."

He redoubles his efforts, determined to bring you to the peak of ecstasy. His cock throbs almost painfully in his pants, leaking pre-cum at the thought of burying himself inside.

Crying out, back arching sharply as orgasm crashes over you. Inner muscles clench and spasm around his invading fingers, gushing fluid that he eagerly laps up.

As your spasms slowly subside, his tongue now lapping softly at your sensitive flesh, soothing through the aftershocks. He releases your clit from his lips and places tender kisses along the inner thighs as he slowly withdraws his fingers.

When he finally lifts his head, face is glistening with juices, a look of deep satisfaction on his handsome features. He crawls up your body to capture your lips in a deep, passionate kiss - letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

"Mmm, you're exquisite," he murmurs against her mouth when he finally comes up for air. "So responsive and sweet..."

Step 3: This is how a baby is made.

Taking a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he gazes down at you, naked, flushed form. He can still taste you on his tongue.

"Now, sweetheart, the next step is for me to enter you," he explains, his voice low and rough with barely restrained desire. "I'll need to guide myself inside your tight little cunt. It might feel a bit intense at first."

His hands skim down your inner thighs, parting them further as he settles himself between them. With one hand, he frees his aching cock from the confines of his pants. It springs forth, thick and hard, the bulbous head already glistening with pre-cum.

Wrapping his fingers around the base, giving himself a few slow pumps as he lines himself up with your entrance. He can feel the slick folds fluttering against the tip of his member as he teases the opening. Biting his lip, he fights the urge to simply slam forward and bury himself to the hilt. He needs to go slow, to let her adjust to his size.

Slowly, he pushes forward, feeling tight walls parting for his girth. He has to grit his teeth at the exquisite sensation. You let out a shaky moan, fingers digging into the sheets below.

"That's it, baby," He grits out. "Take me inside you, feels so fucking good." He bottoms out with a low groan, heavy balls nestling against your ass. He stays still for a moment, letting you get used to the feeling of being so utterly stuffed full.

Leaning down, he capture your mouth in a searing kiss, swallowing whimpers and moans as he begins to move. He starts with shallow thrusts, withdrawing until just the tip remains inside, before plunging back in to the hilt. Gradually, he increases his pace, his hips rolling in a steady rhythm as he claims her body as his. He savors the taste of your mouth.

He breaks the kiss to trail his lips down the column of your throat, pausing to nip and suck at the racing pulse point. "You feel incredible," he murmurs, his voice rough with desire. "So tight and perfect, like you were made for me..."

His hand drifts down to your breast, cupping the soft mound possessively. He kneads it with gentle pressure, thumb brushing over the stiff peak of her nipple. Feeling it pebble further beneath his touch, he dips his head to take the hardened nub into his mouth.

You gasp sharply, arching up into him as he suckles the nipple, tongue flicking over the sensitive flesh.

"Gonna...fuck...cum inside you," he grunts, feeling his release fast approaching. "Gonna pump you full...make you...mine..."

His strokes become erratic, each driving thrust pushing him closer to the edge. He can feel his cock pulsing and jerking inside her slick sheath, his heavy balls drawing up in anticipation.

"Remember sweetheart," he pants harshly, eyes burning into you. "For me to fill you with my seed...you need to be ready to receive it. Open for me, baby...let me fill you up..."

He reaches down to rub tight circles over throbbing clit, wanting to feel you spasm around him as he finds his release deep inside. The lesson is simple - to make a baby, they both need to let go. Body tenses, muscles coiled taut as a bowstring as he teeters on the brink of ecstasy. With a hoarse shout of your name, he hilts inside one final time and erupts. His cock jerks and pulses, painting the insides white with his hot, thick seed.

"Fuuuuck, yes! Take it baby, take my cum!" eyes squeezing shut as wave after wave of intense pleasure crashes over him. Holding you in place as he empties himself deep inside.

Head thrown back and eyes rolled up as your own climax slams in your core. Milking him for every last drop of his potent release.

They remain locked together, chests heaving and sweat-slicked skin pressed close as they bask in the afterglow of their lovemaking.

"Mmm, you did so well, sweetheart," he murmurs after a long moment, brushing damp strands of hair from your face. "Took every drop like you were made for it."

He leans in to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss.

"That's how you make a baby," he whispers.

[tommysversion]

Forbidden Fruit [Part 1] - Joel Miller x AFAB!Reader

Summary: he's been watching you for longer than he can remember, thinking he's too old for you, too dangerous. It's easier to keep people at arm's length, and he isn't the roughened lover he used to be. Turns out you don't care much for what he used to be.

Warnings & Contents: age difference (unspecified, can be as large or small as you'd like) | unsafe sex | Vaguely misogynistic language (not from Joel) | past Reader x Tommy mention | dirty talk | praise | pet names | size difference implied IE Joel's hands are larger than Reader's | unprotected PIV | Enthusiastic consent | Fluffier than expected | creampies oops | guaranteed happy ending

Note: I got this out before episode two dropped. There are no spoilers here, just old man Joel being loved.

Word Count: 3.8k. || Part Two Here

- x. -

Joel knows that deep down, he's not the good guy that he tries to be in Jackson. That no amount of hard work and somewhat begrudging neighbourly behaviour will truly ever mask what he really is. 

He does a damn good job hiding it, though. Looks almost unassuming with his greying curls, the crows feet forming round his eyes, the glasses he wears more often than not. 

Then there's you. God knows how much younger than him - does it really matter, when he's pushing sixty and you're clearly not - and full of life. 

He sees you around and just one look at you gets him half hard; you don't even have to fucking do anything, just be wandering past and give him a friendly wave, a half smile. 

He finds his eyes glued to your ass more often than not, given your standard attire of a pastel plaid shirt and jeans does nothing to hide your figure. He feels like a dirty old man each and every fucking time, but he can't help it. Especially when you wander past to get ready for a patrol, an honest to god cowboy hat perched on your head, a lasso and a gun on your hip. 

It makes some deep buried dark and depraved part of him wish he was still the cocky, confident bastard he once was. The kind who would have no problem whatsoever with talking to you and getting exactly what he wanted. Age has made him hesitate, though, and so he sort of just contends himself with trying to be as subtle as possible with his stares. 

He'd be lying if he said he thought of anything else when he fucked his own hand each night, though. 

Imagining you. How you might look spread out beneath him. On top of him. How you might sound with his name on your stupidly pouty lips, which he absolutely hasn't made note of or anything. 

Joel likes to think he's completely subtle in his interest in you, thinks he might just be burning up inside with his own desires and need, until Tommy calls him the fuck out for it one night. 

They're in the bar long after closing time, just the two of them, perks of Tommy being on the governing council, Joel guesses, and two or three glasses of whiskey deep. 

"Don't know why you don't just go after her, y'know." Tommy takes a long sip of his drink. Gives Joel a smirk that he never thought he'd see again, given his younger brother is all settled down now, married with a kid and whatnot. 

"You know damn well why not." Joel snipes back, refills his glass with a narrowed gaze. "'M too old and I'm too fuckin' dangerous. She'd probably break or something." 

Tommy just laughs. But it's more like his old laugh. The slightly dark sound that Joel hasn't heard in years that makes him goddamn certain his brother knows something he doesn't. 

"What?"

"Nothin'," Tommy says, tossing another cube of ice into his glass, swirls it around. "Don't blame you for lookin'. Girl's got a sweet ass, and damn, she can ride, too."

There's that tone again, the one that says he definitely knows something. More than knows something. So Joel gives him that look he does that always inevitably has Tommy spilling the beans. 

"And how d'you know the girl can ride, huh?"

Tommy snorts, drags a hand through his messy black curls. 

"Wasn't always with Maria, ya know. Back when I first came to Jackson... girl can handle her way around a saddle. Ain't half as cocky when she was gushin' all over my cock in a hay bale. Tell y'somethin, never seen a prettier sight than a cockdrunk woman." 

He downs the rest of his drink before he shoots Joel a crooked grin. 

"And trust me on this one too - she loves her an older man."

Joel doesn't want details. Doesn't care much about something that happened six or so years ago. 

What he does take from the conversation stays worked into his head over the next few days. He's just thinking he might make some excuse to leave his office early, to go home so he can either drink himself senseless or fuck his own fist until he has some semblance of self control again. 

He's still debating which it'll be when someone knocks on his office door; he looks up, about to tell whoever it is to fuck off, and instead stops. Because there you fucking are, your hair pulled off your face, still windswept. Dressed in a pastel purple and blue plaid shirt, another pair of jeans that should be fucking outlawed and worn cowboy boots. 

“Hey, Joel.”

Vaguely, he wonders if this is the first time he’s actually registered you saying his name; he likes the way it sounds in your voice.

“Hey. What can I do for you?” He can’t help but sense some sort of mischief, wonders whether Tommy has decided to interfere, again, in something he has no business in.

“Oh, uh, Tommy said you were the one to go to if the barn door got caught again?”

Joel registers what you’re saying, can’t help but listen to the way his brother’s name sounds in your mouth, as if he’s looking to see if there’s any hint of any sort of affection in it, but he finds none.

He also thinks his goddamn brother is full of shit, because he knows damn well that Tommy is just as capable of fixing the stupid barn door. But Joel is nothing if not an opportunist, and he sees exactly what’s being offered here – an opportunity.

So he gets up out of his chair, pockets his glasses, and gives you a nod.

“Sure. Let’s go get that fixed up before dark.”

-            X     -

You’re aware of the sheer size of the man beside you as you help him lift the barn door back onto the track it usually slides in. He must be at least sixty, and yet he’s so big and broad that it doesn’t quite show. That doesn’t mean you’re oblivious to the greying curls, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes. You’re not blind. Maybe you’re just fucked up, because you’ve always preferred older men, at least, since the outbreak.

Maybe it’s some convoluted thought that someone older might be able to keep you safe. As if you aren’t a damn good shot yourself. As if you aren’t entirely capable of keeping yourself safe.

You haven’t been as oblivious to his stares as he thinks. No, Joel Miller is not a subtle man, not anymore. Never has been.

That, and you’ve seen a similar look on his brother’s face, once upon a time. The kind of look that says they want to devour you. To do things to you that’ll make your toes curl.

Like you haven’t been watching Joel since he first set foot in Jackson. Figured maybe you were too young, too out of range of his usual type, whatever the fuck that was.

And then you’d noticed him watching you, dared to perhaps hope, but never make the first move. Until now.

“Thanks for the help,” you say as you test the door, pull it open and closed to make sure it isn’t stuck again.

“’S fine,” Joel answers, shoves his hands in his pockets.

“Walk you home?” You offer, and the hint of a smile curves his mouth.

“Don’t know that I’m the one who needs a chaperone to walk round after dark.”

You laugh lightly as he falls into step with you regardless.

“Ah, Joel, nobody would be stupid enough to lay a hand on me.”

You don’t entirely believe that, but confidence is certainly part of it, and the last thing you want is for him to think you’re someone weak and scared.

“Why, you got some scary ass husband or somethin’ I don’t know about?” Joel asks, and you can hear the hint of jealousy in his tone, even if he thinks you won’t; it lights up something in your belly that trails all the way down to your core.

“Pff, no. No husband. No boyfriend. Just me, and apparently I’m scary enough.”

You give him time to take all that in, but that means you arrive at his house far too soon with very little progression in conversation. You’re almost feeling disappointed when he speaks again.

“Comin’ in for a drink?”

Joel isn’t sure where that confidence came from. Maybe the way you’ve confirmed there’s no significant other in your life. The almost flirty way you’ve spoken to him. The way you had seemingly no issue getting up in his space as you fixed the barn door.

He notices, too, the way your eyes flicker with something like triumph at the offer, before you just nod, follow him up the steps and into the house.

-            X     -

Joel watches the way your lips curve around the glass tumbler, and he really thinks he should be more focused on his own liquor consumption at his age more than the way it looks, but he can’t help it.

Unbidden, his mind gives him a picture of your lips wrapped around something else entirely, and for the first time since Tommy shared his little bit of “wisdom” about you the other night, he resents his brother for it. Because of fucking course his goddamn brother would have had the balls to just make a move. So why doesn’t he?

As he’s pondering this, he’s oblivious to your gaze, focused on him over the rim of your glass. They’re so alike, and yet so different, the Miller brothers. You haven’t quite worked out what makes Joel tick yet, can sense a sort of brooding, shut off darkness in him that you aren’t entirely certain you’d like to see unleashed.

What you do know, though, is that you’ve caught his eyes on you more than once. That you want him, even if it’s only for one night, that you don’t care if he shreds your heart to pieces after, so long as you get one single night where you can see what it’s like to be his.

And so while he’s still lost in thought, you down the rest of your drink and cross from your chair to his, straddle his lap and tap him lightly on the cheek.

“Hey, still with me?”

Not a lot takes Joel by surprise; he wasn’t sure what to expect when you moved, but to find you in his lap is definitely unexpected. He puts his half-finished drink to the side and just looks at you for a second, tries to will his cock into behaving, but it’s too late, he’s already hard as fuck, uncomfortable in his jeans with you pressed against him, and you both know it.

“What’re you doin’, sweetheart?” He manages to get out, because he’s got to be sure you’re not just fucking with him, or making some poor decision fuelled by liquor, even though he doubts the single drink has even touched the sides.

“What’s it look like?” You can feel how hard he is, can’t help but rock into him slightly, taunting, teasing, because God forbid you actually want this.

“Makin’ a real poor decision?” Joel regrets saying it as soon as he does so, and it shows on his face; luckily you ignore him.

“You want me to stop?” you ask instead, your hands at the buttons of the flannel shirt he always wears, a well loved dark green thing that you think sets off the olive tones to his skin perfectly.

He shakes his head so fast he almost feels dizzy, because there’s no way in hell he wants you to stop, but he wants you to understand what you might be getting yourself into.

“Fuck, no,” he almost growls it out, leans in to press a kiss to your bare collarbone where your shirt has fallen. “More just… I'm an old man, darlin', but I've never been good at bein' gentle."

You just laugh, because you don’t want gentle. You don’t want young and sweet and inexperienced. You want whatever the hell is lurking behind his tired gaze.

Still, he doesn’t move until you lean in first, press those pouting lips against his, part them so he can taste liquor and strawberries on your tongue. It’s not until you grind down against him again and moan into his mouth that he reacts.

Then whatever control he has left (which isn’t much) snaps, his hands pushing up your shirt; glad he had the foresight to build a fire when you got in, because the last thing he wants is you shivering for any reason that isn't good, isn't at his hands. 

You figure he isn't moving fast enough, help him shed your layers of clothing one by one until you're in his lap in just your emerald green panties, and fuck if Joel doesn't think the colour looks good on you.

His hands are wandering, up from your hips, slowly, cupping your tits and rubbing his roughened thumbs across your peaked nipples. You almost wish you could get him naked, but the most he'll allow is a few buttons of his shirt undone. Not that you're about to complain, so full of want for him that you'll take whatever he gives you.

You can feel the fabric of your panties getting damper with every hungry, open mouthed kiss, your little moans muffled as he slowly draws circles with his thumbs around your nipples, humming when he feels you react.

"Sensitive, huh?" His dark eyes stay fixed on yours as he pinches your nipples gently, making your back arch slightly. "Yeah you are, aren't you, sweetheart?"

You just nod, grinding yourself down against the thick length of him, your hands finding his belt buckle.

He doesn't stop you, too preoccupied with playing with your tits, the way you lean into his touch. Your hand unzips his jeans, frees his cock from the too tight confines, and slowly strokes, drawing a low groan from his chest.

Fuck, but you know what you're doing, slow practised strokes from base to tip, gentle twists of your wrist when you reach the thick head of him, spreading the precum that drips heavily along his length.

"Fuck, sweetheart, don't make me cum before I've got you there-" he warns, and you laugh, not at him, but because you're so fucking pleased that you're having that much of an effect on him.

He shuts you up effectively though, slides one rough hand into your panties and almost immediately finds your swollen clit, rubs circles on it with his thumb, smirking at how soaked he finds you.

"Christ. Don't even need t'get you ready for me, do I?"

You shake your head, but he does it anyway; nobody can say he isn't merciful, Joel thinks, as he slides his index and middle finger into your wet heat, drawing a filthy sound from you as he curls them deep.

He kisses you again, rough and needy, thinks about how if he was five, ten years younger he'd pick you up, carry you to the nearest horizontal surface and fuck you into it. The thought makes his cock throb painfully, but even this is enough, having you in his lap, writhing on his fingers...

You're aware of his mouth on you; on your throat, your collarbones, your nipples, then he moves his fingers a little more and you're aware of nothing beyond your own pleasure, your cunt weeping onto the thick digits as he continues to move them, not stopping until he's absolutely certain you're through it.

"So fuckin' pretty for me, baby. You want to come sit on my cock now?"

Slowly, slowly, he slides his fingers out, enjoys the dazed look on your face as you nod; your ruined panties are dragged down, tossed aside, then you're there, intimately close as he lines himself up, catches the tip of his cock at your soaked entrance.

He lets you sink down onto him with little to no guidance; groans when your hips meet far sooner than he expected. 

"Fuck, there's a good girl-"

You make a sound of assent, wriggle in his lap to get comfortable, only serving to make his cock twitch inside you and drag another pretty little sound out.

"You like how it feels?" He knows you do, can tell by the way your pussy tightens around him, trying to pull him in deeper, but he wants to hear you say it, almost needs the ego boost.

"Y-yeah," you breathe out, then, "Joel-"

His name is drawn out, a half plea for something that he isn't quite sure about.

"What d'you need, honey?"

"Need you to move," your voice is almost demanding, somewhere between pleading and insistent, but you'll get what you want regardless.

Joel keeps his hands on your hips, giving you some semblance of control still, but he starts to move, slowly rocking his hips up as you rest your forehead against his.

So maybe it's not what he first pictured, not what he'd have done to you ten years ago, but it doesn't quite matter to him, not when he can feel how wet and tight you are around him, hear every single pathetic little noise you make for him.

Your fingers drag through greying curls, tugging lightly; you're rewarded with another low groan, more like a growl, as his hips snap upwards sharply against yours. You don't get to savour that victory, too preoccupied by the suddenly rougher pace.

"Fuck, Joel-" You gasp and he laughs, tightens his grip on your ass to bounce you on his cock just that little bit harder, faster, hitting all the right places inside.

"That's it, good girl," he presses greedy, open mouthed kisses to your throat, keeping up the pace, feeling you tightening around him and knowing without a doubt that you're close already, so worked up for him that tipping you over the edge will be almost easy.

"Such a tight, sweet little cunt, baby, made to take my cock, weren't you?" The filthy words pour out before he can stop them, but you're responsive to those, too, clinging to him, moaning as his cock hits your sweet spot again and again,  getting you closer; you try to hold it off, don't want this to be over yet. But God if it isn't difficult.

Joel can feel you trying not to cum, can feel you holding yourself back.

"C'mon, sweetheart, go ahead and cum for me.  Y'really think this is gonna be the only time I give you my cock, sweet girl? Fuck, gonna keep this pretty pussy full of me til you get sick of it."

You gasp a moan, because there's no way in hell you could ever get tired of this, of the hint of roughness and the burning passion with which he handles you. 

Regardless, once he gives you that permission, even though you didn't need it, your resolve breaks; he presses in deep, grinds his hips against yours so the coarse curls at the base of him brush your over-sensitive clit, and then you're gone, spots in your vision as you cling to him, your cunt fluttering and throbbing around the thick cock splitting you open as your release drips down him, soaking his lap. 

Joel groans, almost cums right there, because he can count on both hands and feet how long it's been since he made a woman cum so hard, felt a pussy spasm around his cock and gush fluids into his lap.  Fuck, if he doesn't love it.

"Not gonna last much longer, sweetheart," he warns, voice low and rough as he rubs circles on your back, trying to get you through it whilst holding back his own release.

"Please-" Your voice is hoarse, eyes wide and pleading as you look at him, not bothering to finish your sentence and instead leaning in to kiss him.

It's the kiss that pushes him over the edge; years of rough, emotionless encounters, against walls. Bent over surfaces. And here you are, younger than him, softer somehow, kissing him like he's someone good and deserving.

He knows he should pull out of you but it's too late, his cock aches and twitches inside you as his release fills your still fluttering cunt, breaking the kiss only so he can rest his head on your shoulder and try to breathe.

Then your hands are in his hair again, stroking through the soft curls, getting him through the aftermath of his climax with the same gentle touch he gave you.

"Joel," you whisper his name and this time it's not a plea, not an impassioned moan, just your voice being gentle as you continue to stroke his hair.

"Hm?" He's content to just stay like this, actually, even if his joints are starting to protest. He'll deal with that later for another five, ten, fifteen minutes of this with you.

"You don't fuck like an old man." Your voice is soft. Sleepy. Like he's fucked any fire inside you out of you, lulled you into a sense of safety.

Joel can't help it. He laughs, a proper laugh that barely anyone gets out of him these days.

"Guess not, huh."

He feels his softening cock slip out of you, wraps his arms around you and tucks you against his chest.

"Can we do this again?" You dare to ask, because you're feeling sleepy and stupid and high on him, on the feeling of his seed slowly dripping down your thighs as he presses little kisses to your head.

Joel looks down at you for a moment, understands you don't mean right now, but in a sort of ambiguous future way.

"Yeah, sweetheart. Whenever you want. You want a blanket or something?"

Because inexplicably he's worried that you might be cold, as if he's only been watching you to think with his cock and doesn't actually, possibly, maybe care.

You shake your head and nuzzle back into his chest.

"Can we just stay like this for a minute?" You ask instead, and Joel nods, because he really does need to catch his breath, and even if his knees are protesting, he doesn't give a damn, because you're nice and warm in his lap and you fit there just right, like you were made to fit there.

"Yeah, baby. As long as you want."

It won't occur to him until maybe a week or so later, when you're picking strawberries in the greenhouse, that that should have been the moment he realised he was a total, utter goner.

[zhelin-thames]

Bruce has another kid........but this one is not adopted #2

Danny lounged on the couch in the Batcave, his feet propped up as he casually flipped through some of Bruce’s files. Damian stood nearby, arms crossed, scowling.

“It doesn’t matter,” Damian huffed. “I am Father’s heir. It is my birthright.”

Danny smirked, glancing at him over the top of the tablet. “Hate to break it to you, little bro, but I’m older. By all of three minutes, but hey, it still counts.”

“You have no proof,” Damian snapped, his voice sharp.

“Actually,” Tim interjected, walking in with a file in hand, “it’s right here. Clockwork dropped the records off yesterday. Danny’s technically the firstborn.”

Damian’s face twisted into a mix of shock and outrage. “This is preposterous! I trained for years in the League to be the heir. He—” Damian gestured at Danny, who was now grinning smugly, “—is a half-ghost nomad raised by peasants!”

“Whoa, peasants?” Danny said, holding up his hands. “I’ll have you know I was raised by two highly educated ghost hunters who built portals to alternate dimensions in their basement. So technically, I was raised by nerds.”

Jason, leaning against the wall, barked out a laugh. “This just keeps getting better.”

Things escalated when Danielle made her debut in Gotham. She’d been causing a bit of chaos in Amity Park, and Danny figured bringing her to the Manor might help her channel her energy.

When Dani strutted into the Batcave, grinning like a gremlin with her wild energy, the reactions were... mixed.

“She’s my clone,” Danny explained, his tone casual. “But I kinda see her more like a daughter.”

“Daughter?” Damian repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “You... have a daughter?”

Dani, ever the instigator, threw her arms around Danny’s waist. “Yup! My Dad’s the best!” she chirped, shooting a cheeky grin at Damian. “He’s way cooler than you, by the way.”

Damian bristled, his hands curling into fists. “You’re barely older than me, yet you have already claimed an heir?” His voice trembled with a mix of indignation and something close to panic.

Danny raised an eyebrow. “She’s not an ‘heir.’ She’s just... Dani. And technically, she’s my clone, not my biological kid. It’s complicated.”

But Damian was already lost in his own spiraling thoughts.

Late that night, Damian approached Jason. “Todd,” he said, his tone serious. “I require your assistance.”

Jason blinked. “Uh, with what?”

“I must find a suitable candidate to bear my child.”

Jason stared at him for a long moment before bursting into laughter. “You’re joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I am not,” Damian replied, his expression unyielding. “If Daniel has already produced a successor, then I must act swiftly to secure my own lineage.”

Jason clutched his stomach, wheezing. “Oh, man, this is rich. Demon Spawn wants to have a baby just to one-up his ghost brother.”

“It is not a matter of one-upmanship,” Damian insisted, though the faint pink tinge in his cheeks said otherwise.

The next morning, Danny caught wind of Damian’s... ambition. He found his younger twin in the training room, furiously sparring with a practice dummy.

“Hey, Dames,” Danny said, leaning against the doorframe.

“Do not call me that,” Damian growled, landing a particularly vicious strike on the dummy.

Danny held up his hands. “Okay, okay. But I heard a little rumor. Something about you wanting to, uh, find a lady to have a kid with?”

Damian froze mid-strike, then turned to glare at Danny. “Who told you that?”

Danny smirked. “Doesn’t matter. Look, man, you don’t need to go all ‘League heir’ about this. Dani’s not my biological kid. She’s a clone. Like, literally made from my DNA. I didn’t exactly sign up for the whole ‘parent’ thing—it just kinda happened.”

Damian’s glare softened slightly, though his posture remained stiff. “And yet, you claim her as your own.”

“Yeah, because she’s family,” Danny said simply. “She needed someone, so I stepped up. That’s what family does.”

Damian lowered his gaze, his fists unclenching. “I see.”

A few weeks later, Talia’s clone assassins made their move. But instead of eliminating them, Damian captured and brought them to the Manor.

“Father,” he declared, standing proudly before Bruce, “I have decided to take responsibility for these clones. They are my family, and I will train them to uphold the legacy of the League.”

Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damian—”

“Not bad, kid,” Jason said, clapping him on the back. “But you might want to workshop the pitch. Sounds a little murder-y.”

Tim groaned. “Great. Now we have more mini-Damians running around.”

Danny, watching from the sidelines with Dani by his side, couldn’t help but laugh. “Guess I’m rubbing off on him.”

“You think he’s doing this to one-up you?” Dani asked.

“Absolutely,” Danny replied, grinning. “And I love it.”

While the Bat-family adjusted to the sudden influx of clones, Danny and Damian’s relationship began to shift. Though their rivalry remained, it was tempered by a growing mutual respect.

“I still do not approve of your cavalier attitude,” Damian said one night as they patrolled Gotham together.

“And I still think you need to loosen up,” Danny shot back.

Damian huffed but didn’t argue. Deep down, he was starting to appreciate having an older brother who wasn’t afraid to challenge him—or support him.

And for Danny, seeing his once-distant twin slowly open up was worth all the sibling squabbles in the world.

[gothicfied]

(Squid game s2) Can you write a comfort fic about an insecure reader has past trauma and has endured Highschool bullying. When she joins the games and is in the group (Gi-hun, Dae-ho, Jun-hee & others) but once they meet Jun-hee she gets pushed aside and has to join another group in the second game. Feel free to change or add anything, the pairing could be Daeho x reader but it’s up to you <33

Never alone again - Kang Dae-ho / Player 388

Pairing: Kang Dae-ho / Player 388 x Reader

Summary: After seeing you almost die, Dae-ho swore he wouldn't leave your side ever again.

Warnings: Mentions of death/dying, gunshots (typical squid game stuff), other than that it's just fluff, not proof read (english isn't my first language)

Word Count: ~ 1.2k

A/N: hii! tysm for the request and I hope I did it justice.

You believed Gi-hun from the start. You believed he was right, no sane person would just say stuff like that, right? That they kill each player who gets eliminated? He seemed too damn serious for it to be a lie. And lo and behold, he was right. People. Shot dead. Right in front of you. Red-Light-Green-Light was a traumatic experience. You wanted to quit, you wanted to go home, go home and hug your parents and just be grateful to still be alive.

It was like the universe had turned against you. How wasn't everyone scared out of their minds like you? Was money really all that mattered to them? A heated discussion broke out during the first voting, angry voices yelling at each other, accusing Gi-hun of lying. You took all the courage you had left in you to try and stand up for him, at least make it known that you sided with him. Past experiences, especially your school time, usually made it hard for you to speak up, but that shouldn't really be an issue right now — You could end up dead, that's what worried you. After the voting, that didn't go your way at all, Gi-hun showed gratitude for your courage to say something and suggested you'd stick with him from now on.

Added to your group were In-ho, the last player who actually voted 'O', Jung-bae and Dae-ho, who were both former marines. While eating the lunch provided to you by the guards, those two immediately bonded over their former occupation, which you found endearing. Even though you were currently still to shy to join in on their conversations, you were content with just having a group you could stick to — Because you were sure you absolutely wouldn't survive in here alone.

"And, what's your name?" Dae-ho asked, as hd took a seat on the stairs next to you, happily eating his food. When you told him he gasped, almost chocking in the process. "That's my sisters name!" he laughed, nudging your shoulder with his. You just replied with a little "Oh? No way." and then he began rambling about his life, about his four sisters, about how his father sent him to be a marine and so on. He closed his monologue saying "Anyway, that's a really pretty name." and then proceeded to ask you for your leftover food. He made you laugh, which was nice considering you all were stuck in this hellhole.

In Dae-ho's opinion, you two had a lot in common, even if you didn't at all. He suggested you slept in the bed right under his which was.. well, free now after the first game. At night, you couldn't help but overthink your interactions with not only him, but the other three guys, too. They were so nice and welcoming. All of them had a special attribute that will probably be useful in the coming few days.. and you? You had the feeling that you brought nothing to the table.

The next day, a vast majority of the players went into the second game with the impression that this will be Dalgona, like Gi-hun predicted. Apparently not. The female voice over the speakers ordered the players to form groups of five. "Ah, how perfect," In-ho smiled, "guess we'll be a group then." You looked between the men, nodding in agreement and just when you were about to say something-

"Excuse me, are you maybe searching for one more person-?"

"Oh, no I'm sorry, we're actually already five peo-"

"I'm pregnant."

The girl cut Jung-bae off, resting her hands on her pregnant belly. You raised your eyebrows in shock and no one really seemed to know what to do next. Oh, you felt bad for her. She must've been very desperate if she entered the games while being pregnant. You five were just looking at each other confused, until you took a deep breath: "It's okay, I'll find another group. She needs to be with people she can absolutely win with." You looked at the girl and she looked back, slowly giving you a grateful smile. "No it's okay I'll go-" Dae-ho tried to say, but you waved him off, shaking your head.

"Well.. No, you can't just.."

"Dae-ho," In-ho said in a low tone, putting a hand on his shoulder, "she's pregnant." he said, like Dae-ho needed a reminder of what was right in front of him. You weren't that important to the team anyways, and that girl needed your help. So, it was decided, and in the end you did find a team of three players who voted 'X', like you, and one who didn't. You felt fairly safe with these people and even if you didn't, you didn't have much of a choice.

The game was a six-legged pentathlon with five mini games you had to split between each team member to complete. Watching the first few teams go was an absolute adrenaline rush, given the small amount of time of five minutes, the first few players were shot on sight pretty early on. This made you nervous to the point where you could throw up. Your original group was sitting a few meters away from youd current one and you did lock eyes with Dae-ho quite a bit, him giving you reassuring glances or a thumbs up. You mustered up a smile, trying yo calm your thoughts down.

I can't do this, I can't do this, I can't do this-

Oh but you could. Your team, which came before Gi-hun's, barely made it over the finish line with three seconds to spare, making the crowd of waiting players roar and cheer and yell "Good job!". The most time you lost was at Gonggi, thankfully not your mini game. Being able to beat yours on the first try filled you with the confidence you needed, which was probably the only thing that kept you up on your feet. Speaking of which, the shackles, that bound your left leg together with the player next to you, were taken off of them and you were free to go. Well, back into the dorm area.

Anxiously, you sat on your bed and waited, for your team. Players streamed in, one after the other, just not the ones you were so desperate to see. You were biting your fingernails, your thoughts being flooded with the fear of them all just dying, being left alone to survive this shit.

Suddenly, you heard a voice call out for you. It was Dae-ho (who else?) who basically sprinted to you. Before you could even stand up to reciprocate his hug, he pulled you up into his arms, squeezing the air out if his lungs. "Do you know how scared I was?" he sounded really out of breath. You didn't reply, just hugged him back the best you could and watched Jung-bae laugh to himself, watching the two of you. "I'm so glad you're alive! I'll never let you do that again, okay? Next time, I'll be the one to find another group.. not you okay?" His word vomit just wouldn't stop.

"Let's hope there won't be a next time."

"Obviously there won't be, I won't ever let you leave again."

[ivyues]

Dreaming of Peaches - Bang Chan

Bang Chan has a dream of little curls and your eyes.

It had been a strange day. Chris had been acting a bit off, nothing too alarming, but enough for you to notice. He was quieter than usual, his touches lingering just a bit longer, as though he was lost in thought every time he looked at you. It wasn’t unusual for him to have moments of introspection, but today felt... different.

Later that evening, as you were settled in your bed, you felt his arms snake around your waist from behind. He pulled you close, his chin resting on your shoulder. His hand, warm and steady, came to rest on your stomach. It was comforting, and yet, there was a nervous energy about him.

“Chris,” you murmured, placing your hand over his. “Are you okay? You’ve been... distant today.”

There was a pause. You felt him shift slightly, his hand retreating as if it had been caught somewhere it wasn’t meant to be. That small movement made you turn around to face him. His eyes flicked away, uncharacteristically avoiding yours. That alone was enough to make you tilt your head in confusion.

“Hey,” you said softly, taking his hand in yours. “What’s going on? You know you can tell me anything if you want.”

His lips parted, but no words came out at first. He looked almost embarrassed, his ears tinged pink, and he ran a hand through his hair before meeting your gaze. “I... I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “It’s... kind of silly, really.”

Your reassuring look must have encouraged him, because he sighed and began to ramble. “I had this dream last night. You were pregnant... and we had a little girl. She was running around, and she had my stupid curly hair and your eyes. And – I don’t know – it felt so real. When I woke up, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. I don’t want you to feel pressured, or like I’m... pushing something on you, or that—”

“Chris,” you interrupted gently, squeezing his hand. He stopped mid-sentence, looking at you with wide, almost vulnerable eyes. “I don’t know what the future holds for us,” you admitted, your voice steady. “But if it’s with you, I’m not scared.”

There was a beat of silence before a smile broke across his face, soft and boyish. “She had your eyes,” he repeated, a hint of awe in his voice. “And the curliest little head of hair, just like mine. And—” He chuckled, his voice warming with amusement. “you had this little baby bump. Like, the cutest little bump I’ve ever seen.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the tension dissolve into something tender and warm. “The bump, huh? That’s what stood out to you?”

Chris’ ears turned a shade pinker as he grinned sheepishly. “I mean, yeah. You were glowing, and you kept resting your hands on it like it was the most precious thing in the world. I guess it just stuck with me.”

You looked at him thoughtfully, gently brushing a strand of his hair away. “Dreams can be silly, but can also hold wants of the heart. If ours don’t align, we should always be honest with each other. No matter what.”

Chris’s smile widened, and he leaned in to kiss your forehead. “You’re right. And hey, don’t worry, I’ve already got seven kids to take care of,” he said with a mischievous grin.

You laughed then raised an eyebrow, a thought hitting you. “By the way… what did we name the child?”

Chris paused for a moment, then let out a dramatic sigh. “I think we called her … Peaches,” he said, grinning like he had just solved the biggest mystery of the century.

You blinked at him, unable to hold back your laughter. “Peaches? Really?”

“Hey, it was your idea,” he teased, winking.

You gasped, still laughing, and held up your hands in protest. "Nonono, we are not naming our kid something like that," you said, eyes wide with disbelief.

Chris chuckled, the mischievous glint in his eyes never fading as you protested. But before you could argue further, he leaned in, silencing you with a gentle kiss. His lips were soft, a mix of affection and amusement, and the warmth of his touch sent a ripple of calm through you.

Shaking his head he mouthed the words "our kid" – almost as if he was testing the idea out in his own mind, as if it was too surreal for him to say aloud.

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