#that brings back up the question of what happened to him?

[cameronsprincess]

i understand that reqs r closed and u completely don’t have to fulfill this but i thought you’d do a BANGER job at this prompt: u and rafe r married but are getting divorced and u threw a divorce party… only to end the night going home with him… a little bit of angst with some smut?? idk make it ur own 💗

zyaaaa<3 i love you for this, and thank you for trusting ME with your request!!!

CW: 18+ only! slight angst, more fluff than i intended, divorce, smut, male receiving oral, piv sex.

note: yeah yeah reader went out w her friends but left w rafe and none of them tried to stop her. in my head none of them noticed their interaction/her leaving with him. let’s pretend they’re blowing up her phone while she’s gettin’ the best dick down of her lifeee. also, i suck at endings, its my biggest flaw so yeah sorry if the ending is bad.

“here’s to finally being free of the most toxic marriage to the most toxic man!” you say joyfully, clinking your glass with three of your closest friends.

your friends all giggle, bringing the champagne flutes to their lips and taking small sips. you glance around your house, a weight seemingly lifted off your shoulders as you take in how freeing it feels to finally have your divorce finalized. you’d been married for three years, and while it was good at first, somewhere during the marriage your— now ex— husband had become cold and indifferent toward you. you couldn’t pinpoint exactly when it happened, nor could you give a reason why, but all you knew was enough was enough. you were too young and too beautiful to spend the rest of your life in a loveless marriage to a man who treated you like shit.

your friends voice rips you from your thoughts. “earth to y/n.. you okay babe?”

you squeeze your eyes shut, giving your friend a big smile before nodding your head. “yeah i’m fine,” pausing, you down the rest of your champagne, setting the glass onto your coffee table and rising from your spot on the couch. “let’s go out tonight.”

your friends all share slightly concerned looks with one another before their attention lands on you. nicole clears her throat, awkwardly shifting before she finally speaks, “i mean.. yeah sure, but are you sure you wanna put yourself out there like that right now?”

you roll your eyes, sighing. “yes i’m sure. i just spent the last year of my life going through a messy divorce process, so i’d like to go out with my girls, have some drinks, dance a little, and maybe, just maybe, find some hot guy to bring home. i’m not going out to find my next husband, jesus.”

and that’s exactly what you did, but little did you know… the man you’d go home with was your ex husband.

—

“another shot of patrón please? thank you!” you shout to the bartender, giving him a flirty half-drunken smile.

the bartender nods, moving to pour your drink before sliding it across the bar to you. you smile, grabbing the glass and downing it before setting it back on the bars top.

“a pretty woman like you shouldn’t be buying her own drinks.” a low, raspy voice says from behind you.

you bite at your bottom lip, smiling to yourself before turning to face the mystery man. your eyes widen in shock when you see rafe, standing so close to you that you could smell the whiskey on his breath.

“rafe.. what the fuck are you doing here?”

he smiles down at you, taking a step closer, backing you into the bar. “i could ask you the same question. the divorce only finalized today, trying to forget me so soon, sweetheart?”

“i’m not your fucking sweetheart, rafe. now leave me alo-”

rafe grips at your hips, pulling your body into his. he dips his head down, inhaling the scent of your shampoo, groaning as he rests his forehead on your shoulder. “i miss you. do you miss me?”

your pussy pulses from his words, the smell of him so intoxicating it had your head spinning more than it already was. you did love him, and you hated that he pushed you to file for divorce, but it’s how things were. you couldn’t mess up everything you’d fought for, not now, not ever.

you try and shove him back, but his hands tighten on your waist, not allowing you to move. “baby, stop. m’sorry, for everything. i know the divorce finalized today, but that doesn’t mean we can’t still fuck.. maybe try and just be friends, date, see where life takes us, right?”

he was trying to manipulate your drunk mind, and you couldn’t let him win. you refused to let him win. it was done. you were free of him, so why was he here and trying to reel you back in? he didn’t miss you, he missed the comfort you brought him, he missed how you’d always try and calm his mind, how you’d forgive him every time he fucked up. he didn’t miss you.

“rafe please, stop. i’m too drunk for this argument. you don’t fucking miss me, you miss the way i was for you,” you pause, your half-lidded eyes looking up and finding rafe’s beautiful blue eyes. “i can’t do this, please.”

you tear your eyes off his, knowing if you looked into them for too long, you’d be a goner. you’d go home with him, let him have his way with you, and wake up regretting it in the morning, because you and rafe could never work out. not as friends, not as a couple, not as anything.

rafe slides his left hand up your sides, reaching your face and cupping your cheek in his hand. his thumb slowly strokes the skin before he hooks his thumb and index finger under your chin, forcing your head up.

“baby.. i do miss you. please, just— just let me prove to you how much i fucking miss you.”

his words tug at your heartstrings, your body melting into his touch like it always did. tears well in your eyes, your chin wobbling as you look into his eyes, eyes that used to make your heart stop and made you feel safe and at home.

sighing, you nod your head once. “okay.. okay fine. just one night, we can look at it as… goodbye sex. right?”

a smile takes over rafe’s lips, “whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart. let’s go.”

he quickly grabs your hand, pulling you across the dance floor and out the doors of the club you were in. the warm, mid-summer air hits your skin, the light breeze sending goosebumps up your arms. rafe drags you across the parking lot, eagerly reaching his truck and unlocking it, opening the passenger door for you. you raise a brow at him, “someone’s really trying tonight, isn’t he? you stopped opening my door for me years ago.”

rafe chuckles. “i’m sorry for that… truly.”

you roll your eyes, giving him a small smile before lifting yourself into his truck, pulling on your seatbelt as he shuts the door for you. he rounds the front of his truck, hopping into the driver seat and starting the truck, putting it into reverse and speeding out of the clubs parking lot.

the ride back to rafe’s house is comfortably silent, and the second you two arrive, rafe is killing the engine and hopping out to help you out and into his house.

you barely make it through the front door before rafe’s lips are on yours. he grips your hips in his hands, squeezing tightly as his lips devour yours. he bites at your bottom lip, sucking it into his mouth before releasing it softly. he rests his forehead against yours, the sound of both your heavy breathing filling the small entryway of his house.

“fuck i missed you, i missed you so fucking much sweetheart.” rafe breathes out, his hands slowly running up and down your sides.

he runs his hands down to your ass, squeezing at it softly before running them down further, his fingers playing with the hem of your dress. he begins slowly pulling the dress up your body, exposing your black lace thong, sucking in a sharp breath, “fuck.”

your cheeks heat up under his intense gaze, “rafe.. please? ‘m so horny, just need to feel you tonight, okay? just make me forget why we split up.”

rafe bites his bottom lip hard, nodding his head furiously. he pulls your dress off completely, tossing it behind you. he dips his head down again, his lips attacking the length of your neck with sloppy, open mouthed kisses. your knees grow weak, slightly shaking when he sucks softly at the skin of your neck, pulling back and groaning as he admires the deep purple bruise he’d marked you with.

“so beautiful,”

you drop to your knees, fingers fumbling with the buckle of his belt, finally pulling it free from the loops of his khakis and tossing it to the floor before working his button and zipper. rafe is quick to shove his khakis and boxers down, letting his hard cock spring free. you moan at the sight of him, hands reaching out hesitantly to grip at his thick shaft.

a low groan spills from rafe’s lips the second your hands wrap around him, giving slow and deliberate strokes. “always looked so pretty on your knees f’me, never wanna lose this, baby.”

you dart out your tongue, licking up the precum that had leaked from his tip. you moan at the taste of him on your tongue. you missed him, and this is definitely a huge step backward, but you’d deal with the consequences later. tonight, you wanted to soak up having him be attentive and loving with you again, he hadn’t been this way in so long.

“c’mon baby, suck my cock, need to feel those pretty lips wrapped ‘round me.”

you obey, wrapping your lips around his swollen tip and sucking at it lightly, your hands still slowly stroking at his shaft. rafe groans, his head thrown back in pleasure as his cock twitches in your hands. you slowly push more of him into your mouth, sucking him down your throat until he’s buried deep, the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat. you hold him there, breathing in deep through your nose, while your tongue works at the vein on the underside of his cock.

you pull your head back, leaving only the tip in your mouth. you tease him, sucking at his head before pulling him out completely, giving quick strokes with your hands, your lips leaving soft kisses up and down his length.

rafe wraps his hand in your hair, tugging harshly at your messy locks as he groans in frustration. “baby, please? you wanna hear me beg? i’m not beneath begging, not with you at least.”

you shift on your knees, your clit pulsing at how desperate he was for you. this is what you wanted, for rafe to be desperate for your touch and attention. not wasting another second, you push him back into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you begin bobbing your head up and down, taking him all the way down your throat before slowly sliding him back out. rafe’s grip on your hair loosens, but he quickly tightens it back, yanking at your hair harshly as he holds you in place. he begins thrusting his hip, fucking himself down your throat at a quick pace, taking away your air with each push of his hips.

tears roll down your face, your throat already sore from how hard he was fucking it. you gag and moan around him, feeling him twitch in your mouth, the vein on the bottom of his shaft throbbing. you work your tongue against him, helping push him toward his release. rafe’s cock swells, low curses falling from his lips. he yanks your head back by your hair, his cock slipping from your lips, “goddamn… forgot how good you take a throat fucking, baby.. but i wanna cum somewhere else tonight.”

your tear-filled, bloodshot eyes meet his and he extends his hand out for you to grab. you hesitantly place your smaller hand in his, letting him pull you up off your knees. his lips are on yours in seconds, tongue slipping into your mouth, tongues swirling and teeth clashing. rafe listen you off the ground, pulling you into his arms as your legs wrap around his waist. he walks you into the large living room, his lips never leaving yours. he finally breaks the kiss, gently dropping you onto his couch, the cool leather chilling your hot skin.

rafe drops to his knees, his fingers digging into the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs and tossing them onto the coffee table behind him. his eyes flit down to your dripping pussy, the bright blue of his eyes drowned out by his blown pupils. he grips your thighs in his hands, roughly spreading them further apart, “you’re soaked, sweetheart. i knew you fuckin’ missed me.”

you whimper, rolling your hips in a silent plea for him to touch you. rafe chuckles, his right hand releasing your thigh and moving to cup your pussy. he slides two fingers through your slick folds, coating them in your arousal before bringing them to his lips, “mmm.. still so sweet.” he rasps.

rafe stands to his full height, lifting you off the couch and turning, sitting himself down with you in his lap. you grind yourself against his hard cock, moaning at the delicious pressure on your clit as you did. rafe lets his head fall back, his hands tightly gripping at your ass as he helped you slide yourself against his throbbing cock. you lift yourself onto your feet, hovering over him as you grasp his shaft in one hand, lining him with your entrance. rafe’s eyes find yours, his bottom lip sucked between his teeth as he waited to finally feel your pussy wrapped around him.

you slowly sink yourself down on his cock, the two of you moaning in unison. you sit yourself all the way down, burying him to the hilt, both of your hands flying to his shoulders, your nails digging into the soft skin. rafe hisses in a breath, his cock pulsing inside you, “can i move? please baby? wanna fuck this perfect fucking pussy.”

you whimper when he bucks his hips, the swollen head of his cock hitting at your sweet spot. “yes. please, rafe. please fuck me.”

that’s all rafe needed to hear. his hands make purchase on your hips, lifting you up off his cock, leaving only the tip inside before he slams himself back in. you cry out his name, leaning forward and burying your face in his neck. rafe lifts your hips slightly, allowing himself just enough room to quickly pound himself into you. your walls clench around him, tears rolling down your cheeks from the pleasure he was giving you but also because you knew, you couldn’t let him go again after this.

you lift your face from his neck, resting your forehead against his, the two of you staring into each others eyes as rafe continues to fuck himself inside you. rafe pulls his right hand off your hip, his thrusts slowing as he reaches up and swipes a tear from your cheek. “don’t cry, baby.”

you sniffle, “just feels so… fuck— so good, rafe.”

rafe slowly moves his hips, his thrusts slow and sensual. you cup his face in your hands, your eyes scanning his perfect face before falling to his lips. rafe leans forward, capturing your lips with his as the two of you move your hips in sync. you moan against his lips, your walls fluttering around his cock, “rafe.. ‘m so close… please..”

“i know baby… i know,” rafe lets out his out pleasure filled moan, his voice cracking as the next words leave his mouth, “i love you… fuck i love you, this is all about you, let it out, be my good girl and cum f’me, yeah?”

you let out a choked sob, the three small words that left his mouth pulling your heart in more ways than one. your mind is reeling, does he mean it? was losing you what he needed to realize he truly loves you and needs you? do you forgive him? your pussy clenches around rafe’s dick, your lower belly tightening as rafe’s slow strokes push you toward the edge. you sink your teeth into rafe’s shoulder, muffling your cries as you come undone around him, tears uncontrollably rolling down your face.

rafe groans, his thrusts slow and sloppy. his dick twitches inside you, a choked “i love you,” escaping him as he pushes in deep one final time, holding himself inside you as he fills your pussy with his cum.

the two of you are holding onto one another, coming down from your shared highs. heavy breathing fills the room, and when you fully come down from your bliss, you’re pulling yourself off of him, scrambling to find your panties, ignoring the wetness between your thighs and his cum seeping out of you. you’re quick to throw your panties on, turning to rush and find your dress, but rafe grabs your wrist, pulling you back into him.

you can’t look at him, “hey.. baby, look at me, please.”

a tear falls down your face, but you force yourself to look into his eyes, noticing that his are filled with his own unshed tears.

“this was a mistake.” you whisper, but rafe heard you anyways.

his brows furrow, “how can you say that?”

you try and push off of him, but he tightens his arms around you.

“rafe, please. we got a divorce. you made your bed, you chose to treat me like shit and lose me. we can’t work. we don’t work.”

rafe sighs, “listen. i meant everything i said, i’m fucking sorry. i love you, i just… goddamnit, i just suck at showing my emotions. i suck at letting people in, and because of that, i pushed you away and lost the best fucking thing that ever happened to me,” you laugh, rolling your eyes but rafe’s face never falters. “i’m not fucking joking. i fucking love you, okay? okay, y/n? i fucking love you, and i need you.”

you don’t know what to think. your divorce was just finalized, you can’t possibly go back… can you? you do love him, and never wanted this in the first place. what if you take him back and things go back to shit? you’ll look like an idiot.

rafe cups your face in his hands, his blue eyes shining as he stares back at you. “i see you overthinking this, and i understand. i do. but hear me out, please?”

“o—okay..”

rafe blows out a breath. “thank you. i know how i feel. i fucked up, and i want to prove to you that i can be better… for you. please, just, stay with me tonight, let me try and get a start on proving to you how much i need you back,” he pauses, swallowing harshly before he continues, “and if after tonight, you still feel the same.. you can leave and i’ll never bother you again.”

you think over his words, knowing that you would do anything to receive the love you once did from him again. you squeeze your eyes shut, running a hand through your hair as you let out a shaky breath. “rafe, i— fuck.. okay. fine. but if i do choose to take you back, you cannot go back to how things were. i can’t go through this again, i can’t look like the idiot who went running back just because her ex husband spewed a few sweet words after sex..”

rafe smiles hopefully, “i understand, i promise, i mean everything. i will prove to you how much i fucking love you,” he leaves a soft kiss to your lips, standing from the couch with you in his arms bridal style. “now, let’s get your upstairs and cleaned up, then we’ll lay in bed and we can talk about anything, whatever you want, tonight’s all about you, and i’m here to listen and do whatever i can to fix us.”

tagging some moots: @starkeysbabygirl @rafesthroatbaby @rafesheaven @rafesbabygirlx @sarahsangelicdoll @nemesyaaa @cherryobx @httpsdrewstarkey @rafeyscurtainbangs @oceandriveab

[mirensiart]

you’ve heard about linksmeet aus before, but today I bring you a LINKLES MEET AU

✨WELCOME TO THE LINKLE-VERSE✨

basically, an au that asks the question of: what if each Link had a Linkle counterpart? The Linkles don’t necessarily share a spirit, but they do share one thing, aka GETTING LOST! So lost in fact they end up in different eras lmao what’s better than this, just gals being pals trying to find their way back home amiright lmao

it all starts with Fauna (botw/totk!Linkle) following a story about Zelda’s whereabouts for the Lucky Clover Gazette and falling down a suspicious portal accidentally. She ends up in another era and another time, and pairs up with the local Linkle to find a way back home (though jumping through time will absolutely make a great story for the Lucky Clover!) what happens next will (not) surprise you (they get lost again and find themselves in another era, find the local Linkle and…rinse and repeat lmao)

👇 small notes and translation of their names down below 👇

they’re all sapphics cause like, I’m sapphic and I say so lol

the OG Linkle aka the one from hyrule warriors, is nicknamed atenea

fauna has no idea her coworker (botw/totk!link) is THE link everyone is looking for, cause I think it’s funny that he has the Tony Hawk syndrome lmao

hada dies to ganondorf’s forces while protecting oot!zelda in all timelines except the child timeline

brisa hates ww!link’s guts and refers to him as her sworn arch nemesis but it’s all one sided cause ww!link couldn’t care less about her lmao he keeps finding rare treasure and getting his hands on treasure maps, ITS NOT FAIR !

rosa is like brock from pokemon aka her eyes are always closed lmao

ocaso has a bitch resting face but is actually a sweetheart, she feeds the cats in castle town every day

linka is a traveling merchant in hyrule, while rava travels lorule. they both have had encounters with ravio in lorule/hyrule and hate him, they’re competitors lol the hatred is mutual though ravio hates them too since they keep stealing Mr Hero’s patronage from him lol

I like to imagine peregrina has stumbled upon loz/al!link a couple of times but has no idea who he is, like just a weird traveling kid lmao

alma likes trains and aspires to be a royal engineer like st!link but she also dreams of eventually being the captain of a steamboat lol

ever since she split, colores talks in plural sometimes

capa is mc!link’s cousin aka they both have the same grandpa :)

the translations of their names are:

Cielo = sky

Capa = cape

Hada = fairy

Rosa = rose or pink

Brisa = breeze

Ocaso = twilight

Linka is just Linka lol same with Rava

Colores = colors

Alma = spirit or soul

Fauna = same in English

Peregrina = pilgrim

[terrestrialnoob]

Damian glared at the clone as Father and Drake attempted to turn whatever they had in the cave into a machine that could analyze the clone’s DNA before it disintegrated.

“Sorry I’m late.” Nightwing said as he walked towards where Damian stood watching at a distance from the Bat-Parking Garage. “What’s the situation, Robin?”

“Did you not read the brief Father sent out?”

“I did, I just want your opinion – and to know what they’re doing right now?”

“I believe they are attempting to create a machine that will cycle the clone’s blood as it analyses. The clone seems to be marginally competent at engineering and is assisting.”

“You know his name is Danny, right?”

“I doubt it.” Damian huffed as his stare got more intense.

“You doubt his name?” Nightwing asked. “Why?”

“You don’t find it suspicious?” Damian turned so his face was more towards Dick but the clone was still within his vision. “He did everything we asked, and answered every invasive question, without hesitation.”

“He's dying, of course he's telling us everything.”

“Would you? Would any of us?”

Dick turned and stared at him.

“He’s not a civilian.” Damian continued. “He said the people who made him wanted to make a better Batman. Would Batman ever be this forthcoming?”

“He’s nothing like B, though, outside of appearance?”

“We don’t know that.” Damian managed to keep his voice down despite wanting to shout it from the rooftops. “We don’t know who he is or if he’s telling the truth. We should have brought him to an external lab. We should have been more cautious -but…” Damian forcefully motioned towards where the trio were working on their analysis machine.

Dick sighed, but his frown turned into a soft smile for just a moment before he looked serious again. “I get it.”

Damian doubted that, and his doubt was proven true when Dick continued. “It’s scary when B just decides to bring in another kid. It changes all the dynamics and we each get less attention and… Danny is also technically B’s blood son, he was literally made from B’s blood. And he looks like he’s what? A year older than you? This is big for you-”

“Stop.” Damian rubbed his face then grabbed Dick’s arm.

“Listen to me.” Damian pulled Dick down a little so their eyes were a little more even. “When the clone’s blood broke down it looked like Lazarus Water. It was – I can feel it’s the same even if it evaporated before the analyzer could identify it. And this is exactly the type of thing Grandfather would do! How could a pair of random scientists get enough of Batman’s genetic material to make a clone? The list of who wants to make a “better batman” is a short one, and my maternal family is on that list. Presenting Father with a dying clone child that has to be taken to the cave, that just so happens to have been abandoned by his parents, that went straight to Jim Gordon, is exactly something Grandfather would pull to get us to lower our guards and… try to kill us or something.”

“And you think we don’t know that?” Dick asked with worry on his face. “You think Tim, who fuck’s with Ra’s in his spare time, wouldn’t think of that?”

“Then why did-”

“Because he is dying, right?”

Damian sucked in his breath. From what he’d seen… yes, the clone was dying. They watched his blood turn green and evaporate in less than a minute. When Damian looked over the clone even physically looked worse than when Damian first saw him on the roof of the GCPD.

“Dami, we’re just trying to help him not die. We will worry about all that other stuff later. And we're going to make sure no one gets hurt.”

Damian let Dick go and turned back to the clone. They’d finished setting up their strange machine and the clone’s blood was feeding into it. Hopefully, they’ll finally figure out what’s causing the destabilization and save the clone from dissolving into Lazarus Water. Then Damian can finally figure out what it wants, who sent it, and how to get rid of it. Or, maybe they fail and the problem solves itself.

Damian looked at his father’s face and hoped that wasn’t how this ended.

Gut Feeling

DPXDC

Commissioner Jim Gordon meets an odd kid in the precinct.

--

“Come on, you really don’t have a way to directly contact Batman?”

Jim smiled. Kids came to the station and asked that all the time. Usually, it was just curiosity and showing them the signal was enough to get them to sign up for the Junior Police program. This one looked a little older than most, teenagers were often “too old” to believe in Batman, but again, give them a little faith now and they’ll never loose it.

“Lookin’ for the Bat, kid?” Jim asked, knowing he was about to make this kid’s –

Jim froze. The kid turned to face him and it was Bruce Wayne. Not playboy billionaire Bruce Wayne, but freshly a teenager Bruce Wayne. The Bruce Wayne who Jim had checked in on time and again from age eight until he ran off on a globetrotting trip to find himself. The little Bruce Wayne with too pale skin and dark bags under his eyes, and not enough love to make up for all the grief weighing him down. And he didn’t look like Damian either, where Bruce was obviously his father but there were distinct traits from his mother. This was a carbon copy of a boy Jim remembered vividly.

“I am.” He even sounded like teenage Bruce. All business, like he was on a mission.

“I might be able to help you, but it’ll take a while.” Jim said and the officer the kid had been talking too gave him an odd look. He waved her off and told the kid to follow him to the commissioner’s office. Normally, he’d be more dramatic, put on more of a show for the kid, but his gut told him this was different, this was important. He offered the kid a styrofoam cup of water then closed the door behind him. “So, what do you need to talk to Batman for?”

“It’s personal. I need to talk to him in person.”

Jim took a sip of coffee from his cup. “He doesn’t appreciate me calling for no reason in the middle of the day.”

“So you do have a direct line?” The kid nearly jumped out of his seat. “If he’s upset, it’ll be my fault, just call him, please.”

“Who should I say wants to talk to him?”

The kid hesitated. “He doesn’t know me, but I have to talk to him.”

Jim frowned. “What’s your name, kid?”

He swallowed and looked like he wasn’t going to answer for a moment. “Danny.”

“Danny…?” Jim wanted a last name but Danny kept quiet. Jim sighed, “He’s likely not going to show up until sundown.”

“I can wait, as long as you guarantee he’ll show.”

“And you’re not going to tell me why you need Batman?” Jim just got a glare in response. “What about one of the other heroes?”

“Only Batman, no one else can help.”

“You sure about that? Not even Superman?”

“Not unless Superman can get me in the same room as Batman.”

“Why’s it so important that you meet him in person?”

“It’s personal.”

Jim liked this less and less by the minute. “Do your parents know you’re here?”

Danny looked away but right when it looked like he wouldn’t say anything he mumbled. “They wouldn’t care anyway.”

After another moment to give the kid time to reconsider, Jim pulled out the Bat-phone. It was a normal Wayne-Tech cell phone, but Jim had been given very specific instructions on how and when to use it. The phone listed all the Gotham Vigilantes without visible numbers so they couldn’t be copied and handed out. He pressed the one for Batman.

“Stand outside, would you?” The kid gave him a look, but followed the request. Jim could see his shadow in the door’s window, not so subtle eavesdropping.

It rang a few times, and Jim sat there awkwardly with a teenager listening to his every move. Finally, a familiar voice picked up the other end of the line. “Commissioner Gordon.”

“Sorry to call you out of the blue Batman, but I’ve got a kid here who needs your help.”

“Who?”

“Says his name is Danny, that you’ve never met him but you’re the only one who can help him.”

“Why?”

“Refuses to tell me.”

“What’s your best guess, Commissioner?”

Jim looked at Danny’s shadow, it looked like he was straining his ears to try and hear what he was saying. Danny had given him almost nothing to work with. Just his name, that he’s never met Batman but needs to talk with him in person. But Jim was here because he listened to his gut. A feeling like when you see a random rock on your neighbor’s doorstep but you’d never go in without an invitation. A feeling like you know what’s in the present and are preparing your surprised face. A feeling like when you cheated on your wife and you know she knows.

“He looks like Bruce Wayne.”

A beat of silence. “What?”

“Danny looks exactly like Bruce when he was a teenager. Exactly the same.” Jim hoped Batman would get it, feel in his gut what Jim felt.

“And he wont say why he’s there?”

“No, and he demands to see you in person.”

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

“10-4.” The line cut off before Jim had finished saying it. He called Danny in again. “He’s on his way.”

Danny glared at him. “If he’s not, if you called some social worker or something, you’ll regret it.”

“I’m sure.” Jim sighed and downed the rest of his now cold coffee.

The sun hadn’t set, but only just barely. Jim ended up taking Danny up to the roof in the end after all, if only to save his window from being broken into. The kid had a red hoodie on, but he was still shivering in the autumn chill and it was just going to get colder by the minute as the sun made its way behind the horizon.

Jim checked his watch and, at exactly an hour from when he called, he acted surprised when Batman and Robin appeared out of nowhere. “Bats.”

“Commissioner.” Batman greeted but his eyes went straight for Danny. “Danny, I assume.”

“Yeah, I…” Danny hesitated, looking at Jim and Robin.

All it took was four words from Batman. “What do you need?”

The kid held out his hand with a flash drive in it. “I’m your clone. My par- The people who made me wanted to make a stronger version of you, but they got ahead of themselves. My DNA is degrading and I’ll die if I don’t get your DNA to stabilize me.”

Holy cow.

“You don’t expect us to believe that, do you?” Robin sneered at him.

“The flash drive has all the info on it. All the data about the cloning process and the, uh, relevant experiments after that.” Batman gave the kid a look. “I didn’t want to waste time on unnecessary data.”

“If what you’re saying is true, why are you here, alone? Are they working on a different solution?”

Danny’s shoulders hiked up. “I’ve been a failure for a while now, I’m not worth the resources and they’d learn more from an autopsy.”

Oof, kid. Jim looked at Batman who seemed to feel the same… if Jim was reading him right.

“So, you wont object to a DNA test?” Robin asked with a cocky head tilt, at least he was relatively easy to read.

“You can try.” Danny said, and then realized what that sounded like. “I mean I wont stop you, but my DNA degrades faster outside my body. You’ll have to take me to whatever lab you plan on using.”

“Then we will.” Batman said and jerked his head towards where they’d probably parked that ridiculous car of his. But then he looked at Jim with a nod. “Commissioner.”

“Batman.” Jim returned the nod. “You’ll tell me how things turn out, yeah?”

“I’ll give you a report.” Batman joked – Jim could tell, it was gut feeling.

[multific]

Between Doubt and Secrets

Emperor Geta x Reader

Summary: When Geta and Caracalla left to attend to their duties as Emperors, you stayed behind due to sickness. Geta returns he notices just how distant you are, a week passed and he thinks he knows the reason behind your coldness. 

The sound of his boots on the stone floor echoes in the quiet of the palace, each step bringing him closer to you. 

After what feels like an eternity, Geta is done with his daily duties. 

Normally, that would be a relief, a reason to smile.

But tonight, the air between you feels different. It’s heavy with a secret you’ve carried alone for far too long.

You stay by the window, watching the fading light of the setting sun. You were nervous. 

The day is ending.

The news of your child you have known for over three weeks now. The doctor confirmed your suspicion and your heart sank. 

A child wasn’t part of your plan. At least not now.

In truth, it’s thrown everything into chaos. 

But now Geta is back, and the tension in the room is thick.

When he steps into the room, his presence fills the space. 

His eyes immediately find you, but there’s something different about his look tonight. 

It’s not the warmth you’ve grown to know, not the loving look he only gives to you. 

No, tonight his eyes are sharp, suspicious. His brow furrows just slightly as he approaches.

“Where have you been today?” he asks, his voice even, too calm for the question. He was angry.

In the morning he did ask to see you, but you failed to.

For a moment, you stop. 

You weren’t expecting interrogation, weren’t prepared for it. His eyes are searching, like he already knows something.

“I was... outside. Just needed some air.”

He doesn’t immediately respond, but you can see the suspicion in his eyes.

It doesn’t take much for him to read you, to notice when something’s off. To know when you lie.

And for the last week he has been home, something has been off.

“You’ve been distant,” he says after a long pause. “Too distant. I’ve been gone for weeks, and it feels like you’ve shut me out.”

His words cut deep, though you know he doesn’t mean to hurt you. 

He doesn’t understand. 

He hasn’t seen the turmoil you’ve been living with, the fear that’s kept you awake at night.

“I’m not... I’m not shutting you out,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. “It’s just... a lot has happened while you were gone.”

He steps closer, his eyes narrowing. 

“What kind of ‘a lot,’ exactly? Have you been seeing someone else while I’ve been gone?”

The accusation hits you like cold water. 

It’s not anger that fills his voice but hurt. 

The kind of hurt that makes your stomach swirl. 

You want to tell him that it’s not like that, that there’s no one else. But the truth is so much more complicated. And far more frightening.

“Geta, no,” you say, your voice trembling. “There’s no one else. I’ve been alone while you were gone. It’s just... I’ve been trying to figure things out.”

He watches you for a long moment, and you see the doubt still in his eyes. 

You know he’s not convinced. 

But you don’t know how to explain the truth. 

How could you tell him that you’re carrying his child when you haven’t even come to terms with it yourself?

How could you tell him that you have been inside all day trying to figure out how to finally tell him?

Especially when he specifically told you he is not ready for a child. Only the senators demand such a thing. And he doesn't want to give into their needs.

He had enough to care for already, the Empires, his brother and now this.

For a long moment, the room is silent. You tried to collect your thoughts as you played with the hem of your dress.

You and Geta loved each other. Your love was known far and wide for its fire.

Then, finally, you collect yourself. You took a deep breath and realized, you needed to say it.

“Geta... there’s something I must tell you.”

His eyes shoot up to yours, but he doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t say a word. He just waits, watching you closely, as if bracing himself for whatever you’re about to say. He prepared for the worst, he is scared you are about to break his heart.

“I’m pregnant,” you finally say. The weight now lifting from your shoulders but it fills the room instead.

The silence that follows is thicker than the air.  Almost makes in impossible to breathe.

His expression shifts from one of anger to one of pure confusion. 

He was a smart man, he probably connected the events already.

“Pregnant?” he repeats, voice low. “But... how? Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” you whisper, your hands trembling as you spoke. “I wasn’t sure what to think, and... I didn’t want to disappoint you.”

“Disappoint me?” he shakes his head. “I... I don’t understand. I thought you were... I thought you were pulling away from me, that you found someone.”

“How can I find anyone Geta? I love you so much. I just didn’t know how to tell you. I didn’t expect this. I didn’t plan for it. And what you said about the senators... I was scared.”

He falls silent, staring at you for a long time, as if frozen in time. He realised it was all his fault. That day, he spoke out of anger, he didn't realise just how much pressure that put on you.

In reality, he always wanted a child with you, just on your own terms.

After a moment, he steps closer, his hands trembling as they reach out to you.

“Are you truly pregnant?”

You nod, and a single tear slips down your cheek. The weight that’s been crushing you lifts just a little.

Then, without warning, Geta pulls you into his arms. 

It’s a sudden and tight hug as if he’s afraid to let go of you. 

His embrace is tight, warm, and for the first time in what feels like forever, you allow yourself to believe that everything will be okay.

“I thought I’d lost you,” he murmurs against your hair, his voice thick with emotion. “I thought... you didn’t want me anymore.”

You pull back slightly to look at him, searching his eyes, you offer him a warm smile. 

“I do want you. I just... I was scared. This wasn’t how I imagined it would happen.”

He brushes a hand over your stomach gently. 

“You’re carrying our child, the future of Rome.” he says softly, the disbelief still evident in his voice.

“I am,” you reply, your voice catching in your throat.

His hand rests on your stomach, his fingers warm and protective. "I'm not leaving your side again. And what I said about the senators... I don't care for them. I care for you, I love you. I will protect you and our child. I promise."

For the first time in weeks, you allow yourself to breathe. 

“We’ll be okay,” you whisper, more to yourself than to him, but he hears it.

Geta presses a soft kiss to your lips, pulling you close again. His voice and heart beat fill you with hope. 

“I promise.” he whispered again. 

And you knew Geta always kept his promise.

Suddenly, your baby felt like a blessing. The future of Rome and you.

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief  

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @brevlada24

@mel-vaz @akamitrani @ange-olras @nicholaschavezslut69

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 2, Moving noises?

Masterlist Word count: 1.9 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Author's note: Haha, take this! 2 chapters in one day! Also, every time I write another chapter to this story I have to update the warnings and it isn't even that spicy yet.

Mature content under the cut.

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'Are you alright? You look tired.' Tara sounds awfully concerned and you can imagine why. The bags under your eyes might as well be down to your knees by now. Turns out your new neighbor is nocturnal. You couldn't care less about the moving noises, but the fact that they only happen past ten pm is killing you. 

'No kidding,' you sass at her. Quickly, you smack your hands in front of your face. Sure, you're known to have an attitude but never to Tara. She's too sweet. 'I'm sorry, I'm just so tired.' 

Tara frowns: 'Is it that new neighbor of yours? Kieran told me he has a tendency to stay up late.' 

'That's an understatement. He's nocturnal.' Tara lets out an annoyed groan in solidarity, but it just sounds cute coming from her. 'It's fine. I'm sure he's almost done. I mean, how much stuff can you fit into one of those units? You've seen mine, the one next door isn't much bigger.' 

'Must be a big change, considering you and Zayne were so close.' 

'We still are,' you tell her, 'we just see each other a little less now. I do miss him a lot.' She nods but her eyes have a little twinkle in them and you know where this is going. 'No, stop that. Zayne and I are just friends.' 

'Never even... you know,' she questions with a cheeky smile and a wiggle of her brow. 

'No, never,' you laugh, 'as I said, just friends. I don't know, he just feels like a brother. I mean, I've teased him before as a joke and nothing “physical” happened on his end. So I don't think he likes me either.' 

'He goes through an awful lot of effort to be “just friends,” just saying.' 

'Yeah, yeah, sure. You have a very filthy mind for the way you look.' 

'It's been said,' she responds with a gleaming smile. You lean back in your chair and cross your arms, looking her up and down. 

'About that.' Her body tenses up every so slightly. 'Your boyfriend is not what I expected at all. I mean, I've seen him pick you up before and he looks quite tough, but he seemed just as awkward as you are.' Tara's eyes flicker around the room a while, seemingly not wanting to explain anything to you, until her phone lights up. She quickly checks the notification and gasps with excitement. 

'Hold that thought, so Kieran just told me they're doing drinks to celebrate Sylus’ move. That means they must be done,' she states in a chipper tone. You raise an eyebrow at the strange change of topic. There's a freaky side to that woman, you're sure of it. 

'So?' 

'So, I'm dropping Kieran off so he can have some drinks but maybe we can have a girls' night,' she suggests. Considering Red Crow isn't posting anything today for once, your evening is completely open. Could be fun to have a quiet night in with Tara. 

'Sure, sounds fun. What are you thinking? Movie, face masks, board game?' 

'All of the above,' she squeals in excitement, 'I'll bring some snacks.' 

'Great, just let me know when you and Kieran are driving over.' 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

To be a good neighbor, you decided to get this Sylus guy a little something as a housewarming gift. Considering they'll be drinking; a bottle of whiskey can never go wrong. Lucky for you, you were gifted a bottle of whiskey a few weeks ago but you know that one is not quite your style. The Writer's Tears single pot still. It's a very nice whiskey and you've had different whiskeys from Writer's Tears before, but you're just not the biggest whiskey drinker. It's expensive too, so it might give a good impression. 

Tara just texted you she's on her way, which means you've got about fifteen minutes before she gets here. You considered waiting for her and Kieran to hand over the gift so it could be in the spirit of "oh, just dropping my friend's boyfriend off" but that’s just weird. Feels like you're a parent dropping your kid off at school and you're not about that. 

So now you're here, in front of the oh-so familiar door that you used to have a key to. Part of you is really curious how the place looks now, another part of you wants to keep the memory of how it used to be in a time capsule. Either way, you've got a present for your neighbor and this interaction could be done within a minute if you do it right. 

You press the doorbell and hear something fall followed by a string of curses. The door opens fast and the person on the other side, who you think is probably Sylus, towers over you. You look up at him with wide eyes and recognize him right away. That man right there is the reason for most of your pleasure and orgasms. Red Crow. 

'What,' he barks. Rude , and not at all what you would've expected. Still, it takes you a second to take all of him in. He’s even taller than you imagined, eyes even more piercing, face even sharper. It's like a fucking God leaning over you and staring down like you're no more than a puny peasant. 

And a switch flicks in your head. 

'Fix your tone,' you huff, 'I'm your neighbor. I thought I'd bring you a housewarming present.' His eyes widen ever so slightly. How you managed to muster up such a bratty tone in the face of who's talked you over the edge more times than you can count is a mystery to you, but it feels kind of nice to see him stunned like this. You hold out the box the whiskey is packaged in towards him. 

His shoulders relax and he does actually fix his face. His features soften a little and his eyes no longer stare at you like you're an intruder. Your heart starts racing, as if your body just now realizes who is in front of you. You beg to the Gods above that your cheeks don't get bright red. A cold shiver goes down your spine when he takes the box from you with a flicker of an amused smile, the box suddenly seeming much smaller in his hands. 'Thank you, that's nice.' 

'No worries. Tara told me you're having a party, so I thought that wouldn't hurt,' you say, trying to sound as casual as possible. He studies your face for a second, searching for the answers to a question he doesn't ask you. 

'You know Tara?' You nod. 

'She's my coworker.' Shit, your voice isn't as steady as it was at the start anymore. You've got this man on a fucking pedestal and he's here, in reach. It's a weird feeling. Your panties are soaked but you're highly put off by the way he greeted you. Still... there are very little appropriate thoughts going on in your head right now. If this was your last day on earth, you'd have this man bend you like a pretzel right here right now in the hallway. 

He nods, amused like a cat playing with its prey. 'Is that right?’ 

'Yes. Whelp, nice meeting you. I'm gonna go back to my place,' you ramble awkwardly and quickly turn to slip back into your own apartment, accidentally slamming the door. How the hell are you going to face Tara now? Your body is going into overdrive. You bet you could cum just hearing your vibrator turn on. However, you can't risk it. Tara has told you Kieran drives like a maniac and always drives if he's sober, which is now. She could be in front of your door any second. 

"Just breathe," you tell yourself, "it's just a man." Yeah, just a man, a man that could fuck you like there's no tomorrow. Shit, your thoughts aren't your friends right now. A cold shower ought to work. Hopefully. 

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

The bottle of whiskey from his neighbor was put on display on his bar cart. He knows the kind and that type of whiskey isn't for parties. Not even small parties like this. He figures it might be a regift or something. No sane person would give a total stranger an expensive whiskey like this. Never mind a stranger who has been a disturbance from the start. 

Then again, they're not really strangers. He saw the look in her eyes. He's seen it before and hasn't been wrong about it yet. It's that "I've seen you naked" look. To be fair, Sylus would've preferred to stay anonymous in this building for a little longer but considering his neighbor is friends with Tara, she probably won't tell anyone what he does. That is, if she knows what her boyfriend Kieran does since he wears a mask in his content. 

But there was more in her eyes. More than just scandal or embarrassment. There was lust. A lot of it. So much so that Sylus feared he might've caused his pants to tent if she would've bit her lip. Best for both of them that she left when she did. 

He runs his hands through his hair in frustration. Normally, he's not one to obsess like this but there was just something about her. Something about how she looked at him, about the way she commanded him to fix his tone. It's been a long damn time since a woman showed that kind of dominance to him and, shit, it turns him on like crazy. 

Maybe, just maybe, he can rub one out real quick. He sits down on his bed and looks down at the bulge in his pants. He truly hopes he didn't look like that before. He hadn't seen her look at it. Besides, would that be so bad? It looked like she wanted him to take her right then and there, and he would have if she asked. Or demanded, he isn't picky. 

A devious thought pops up in his head. He promised his followers he'd record himself getting off if they begged and beg they did. Maybe he could tease her with this as well if she really does watch him. If it wasn't just a look of attraction and intimidation, but recognition. 

He whips out his phone, puts it on his dresser across from the bed pointed at his crotch and upper body with his thighs still visible. His face is just out of frame, not on purpose but he doesn't mind his followers not seeing how flustered one small interaction got him. Not that they'd ever know why, but she would. 

He sits down on the edge of the bed once more to check if everything's in frame when he hears it. The shower. Her shower. So, her bathroom and his are next to each other, which means their bedrooms are probably also next to each other.  

“Good to know,” he thinks to himself, and that's when he hears it. The softest, most muffled of moans coming through the air extractor fan followed by a string of whimpers. Those must be connected to each other. He feels his dick twitch against his pants like it's being chocked, his ears feel like they're burning while a wicked grin plays on his lips. 

And then he presses record. 

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Previous - Next

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[fujoshirat]

Shouto Todoroki proposes with a fucking house (Be careful what you wish for ♡)

It was a Thursday night, chilly November air nipping at your nose as you walked out of the theater with your love. Shouto wanted to watch the new All Might movie, and who were you to say no to a date with your lovely boyfriend?

He seemed to enjoy it, the way his eyes lit up every time he saw his idol appear on screen. A boyish, childlike wonder present every time his eyes sparkled, he was so cute!!—wait a minute, that’s not the point!

The main point comes after this scene: after getting hot chocolate from a food stand with Shouto, you both sat down on a nearby bench. Sipping the much-needed warm drink, you let out a soft sigh.

“Isn’t hot chocolate so delicious, Shou?” Your boyfriend nods, small smile on his face as he watches your cheery expression. The cold brought a faint pink hue to his cheeks, making them rosy. He seemed contempt in the quiet moment, something you were used to with him.

But then, his gaze turned contemplative. Scooting a bit closer to you, he asked, “Can I ask you something?”

You look up at him curiously. “Sure, what’s up?”

His kissable lips pressed together firmly, like he was hesitant to say what was on his mind.

“How… do you feel about marriage?” The question caught you off-guard, and you nearly choked on your hot chocolate. “M-marriage?!?”

He nods shyly, though his expression was serious. “Yes, what do you think about it? I’ve been thinking, and… it’s something I want with you in the future—if you want that, too.” Your heart had melted at his honesty. You and Shouto have been dating for a while now, and sure, you didn’t mind marrying him, but you didn’t expect him to bring it up so casually.

Heart pounding in your chest, you turn your eyes from your drink and face him. Your breath hitches when you see his earnest expression. “Well, I wouldn’t mind marrying you, Shouto. And if we were to get married someday, I don’t want anything super fancy! I’m not into those huge diamond rings and over-the-top proposals, which all seem like a huge waste of money and a silly way to “show” that you love someone.” Shouto’s heterochromatic eyes widen at your statement, processing your words. “You wouldn’t want a ring?”

You laugh, shaking your head. “Oh, no, I’d want a ring. Just nothing extravagant, you know? I’d rather have something permanent.” Your boyfriend tilts his head confusedly.

“Permanent? What’s more permanent that a ring?” ‘Good question,’ you thought. Before Shouto brought it up right now, you never really thought about the specifics of marriage. Thinking for a moment, you decide to tease the boy and grin mischievously.

“A house,” you say proudly, half joking-half serious. No way was anyone in their right mind going to propose to you with a house oh how wrong you were babe. “I mean, it’s not something that sits on your finger until you break it or you lose it or you get too fat from aging or childbirth. It’s a place where memories are made, and…” You gently cup his right cheek with your hand, soft smile on your face, “hopefully if we do get married, it will be good memories.”

Shouto stared at you for a few seconds, as if you had just revealed the meaning of life itself. The man had already told you about his rough childhood a few years back, and you had already met his family a while ago. You knew what he feared, and you knew how to comfort him and make everything okay. Nodding slowly, Shouto gently touched the hand that was caressing his cheek. “A house,” he murmured, almost to himself.

You didn’t think of it much then. After all, it was just a silly, offhand comment that would never actually happen…

...right?

You had laughed off your “wish” not even a few minutes after you said it, and continued chatting about the movie and basking in your boyfriend’s company.

But Shouto? Shouto took it to heart. And everyone knows that Pro Hero Shouto Todoroki never does a half-assed job.

That’s why, exactly one year later, on another chilly November night, he drove you into a quiet, fancy neighborhood that you definitely had no business being in.

At first, you didn’t think much of it. You both had just finished a pleasant, fancy dinner in the heart of the city and were driving back to your shared apartment. Perhaps Shouto was just taking a detour to tour the area. Perhaps Fuyumi-san was interested in moving out to a nice neighborhood with her boyfriend? As your mind drifted away in a daydreaming cloud, the black BMW M850i pulled up to the sidewalk and came to a stop. The warm hand caressing your thigh gently squeezed it, and Shouto put the car on park. “My love,” he spoke, voice smooth and low, “Would you like some fresh air?” You quirked a brow curiously but nodded and unbuckled. Your boyfriend came around and opened the door for you, holding your lower back gently as he guided you to the sidewalk.

Curiously, you looked around at the beautiful houses around you in wonder. They were a mix of traditional and modern. It almost reminded you of Shouto’s own household, though these ones were obviously new and had a better, modern architectural design to it.

Intertwining his fingers in his, he looks down at your figure and smiles softly. “This is a new neighborhood that I wanted to show you. It was recently completed in July.” His voice was calm, a soft smile on his face—with a hint of something that you couldn’t identify. Something… deeper.

You tilted your head and looked up at him curiously. “It’s beautiful, love, but, why are we here?”

And then,

Shouto got down on one knee—

a gasp,

and pulled out a small velvet box—

another gasp,

and opened it—

revealing a delicate diamond ring.

It was simple, elegant, and exactly what you had in mind one year ago.

But before you could say anything else, he pulled something else out of his pocket:

A small, silver key.

Your jaw drops, mouth hanging wide open, as small tears prick at your eyes. Shouto smiles softly at your expression, gaze never wavering. “I remembered what you said last year and-”

“Shouto. Himura. Todoroki. You didn’t!”

He chuckles, your knees feeling week as you stared at his amused yet sincere expression.

“I did.” Warm liquid falls down your cheek before you know it, yet all you can focus on is the man in front of you.

“I know that you said you wanted something permanent, and I want to give you something permanent too.” He glances at the house that you both were in front of, and then back at you. “It’ll be a place where we can build a life together, a place where you will always be safe, a home where you will always feel loved.” Your heart cracks even further at the sound of his voice, honest and genuine and vulnerable and raw.

“My love for you is permanent, Y/N, and if you’ll have me, I want to share this with you, forever.”

Tears streamed down your face as you struggled to find words. “Shouto, hic are you— sniffle this—this house—” “I wanted you to have both a ring and a house.” Your boyfriend says that with full conviction in his voice, honesty and sincerity evident.

“Will you, L/N, Y/N, marry me?”

You nod furiously and desperately wipe some of your tears,

“Yes! God, yes Shouto!” Your new fiancé wastes no time scrambling up to his feet and sliding the ring on your pretty ring finger. Gently, he pulls you into his arms and tenderly wipes some of your tears.

“You’re sniffle incredible,” you murmur in his chest. Shouto laughs, but he is cut off by the second half of your statement. “And incredibly terrible!” He blinks, confusedly. “What? Why?”

“Shouto!” You chastize him with a huff, using your sleeve to wipe away snot that’s probably gross (Shouto doesn’t think it’s that gross). “Why would you spend 60 million yen on me!?!” (approximately $400,000 in USD)

He blinks again, confused, as if you had said something silly. “I’m a pro hero,” he says cooly, shrugging as if that and the amount of money he spent was no big deal (it really isn’t a big deal to him). “I’ve been saving, and…” Gently, he holds the hand with the ring up to his lips and kisses your knuckles gently, making your knees buckle and your cheeks even rosier.

“You’re worth it, my love. This ring, the house, nothing can compare to how happy and loved you’ve made me.” Tears well up in your eyes once again, threatening to spill over as your heart clenches. “That’s so unfair,” you murmur, voice cracking. Shouto’s lips quirk up into a smug smile, almost like a smirk, showing his blatant amusement.

“What is, darling?”

“Being this perfect,” you mutter, tears streaming down your cheeks again. Shouto laughs and presses a tender kiss to your forehead. “I’m sorry, but you deserve everything, Y/N. And I’ll spend the rest of my life making sure that you know it.” His eyes widen when you let out a whiny sob, burying your face into his warm chest. His left hand gently rubs circles on your back as he chuckles. A cool autumn breeze blows by, ruffling your hair. Shouto sees you visibly shiver and strokes your head.

“You must be cold, would you like to go inside?”

He watches your puffy yet beautiful eyes sparkle, and Shouto can’t tell if it is from your tears or happiness. Yet, he understands that the answer is both when you interlace your hand with his and use your free hand to unlock the door to the brand new 60 million yen home with a brand new diamond ring on your finger in the brand new luxury neighborhood with your brand new fiancé and soon to be husband. ♡

[wanderingwinds333]

What You Keep Hidden. Part 1

Pairing: Azriel x Reader or Eris X Reader

Authors note: First time writing anything on here! Friendly criticism and suggestions welcomed. Hope you like it!

There was nothing more beautiful than the night sky during the winter in Velaris. It’s been the one thing that’s kept you going these past 5 years.

It didn’t go unnoticed by your family that your light had dimmed expeditiously since the events with the cauldron and battle with Hybern. Your whereabouts became a common topic for them. As the days passed, the more missed holidays or family dinners only made their worry grow stronger.

Tonight Rhysand and Feyre had thrown a ball in honor of the peace that had fallen across Prythian. With Koschei defeated and Eris as new High Lord of Autumn things have finally settled and it’s been so refreshing for everyone. But with one glance at you the intense feeling of melancholy licks up their spine.

They were all congregated on the Dais with a perfect view of the balcony you just walked out onto. Gone were the nights that you were the last to leave the dance floor. Always managing to persuade Cassian, Rhysand and on the rare occasion, Azriel to dance.

Now it seems you slink off to find solidarity in a dark corridor or remove yourself from the building entirely.

Cassian doesn’t miss how you look up at the sky, back down to your hands and then let out a shaky sigh.

“She’s not getting better.” Cassian voices deep with concern.

“Just give her more time. The things she had to do is not something you get over so quickly.” Nesta says while rubbing her mates arm in hopes of bringing him some comfort.

“She’s been taking trips to Hewn City more and more recently.” Mor states.

Azriel removes his gaze from the balcony and whips his head to Mor.

“What? What work has she been assigned to do there? Azriel asked frantically.

He never wanted you to be in that place unaccompanied. He used to travel with you everywhere. But ever since he took on the responsibility of watching over Elain you told him that you’d manage and not to worry about it. He’d still try and make time for you but if he couldn’t he’d always send a shadow.

“None. I-I haven’t assigned her any work in almost 3 months.” Rhys states grimly.

At that revelation they all turn their heads back to you but there is now only an unobstructed view of the night sky.

When this inevitably always happens, there is only one question that plays over and over in their minds.

Where do you go?

[106alibi]

good graces ; bad luck

you looked up from your phone, pursing your lips as you watched heeseung order coffee from the counter, wondering why your stupid ass blurted out a cheery ‘sure!’ when you bumped into heeseung at the fitting room of a brand your supervisor, doyoung, had sent you to run errands at, and he had suspiciously innocently looked so glad to see you.

“so how have you been?” heeseung slid into the seat opposite you, handing you the coffee he had ordered for you.

heeseung had always been a friendly acquaintance, a pleasure to meet whenever he had a shoot with your magazine or was present at the dorm when you visited jake. on any other occasion, you would've been glad to see him too. but not now, not after what his best friend had done.

“i've been… okay.” you chewed on your straw, your eyes fixing on your fingers that fiddled in your lap.

“I heard what happened…between you and jake.” your head snapped up, observing as heeseung pursed his lips.

“I hope you've been coping well though, it's not anyone's fault things happened the way it did.” he sighed with a sympathy that somehow felt genuine. your eyebrows knitted. not anyone's fault? how could it not be anyone's fault, when the culprit lived and breathed the same air as him and made headlines for his new relationship?

your tongue poked the inside of your cheek as you tried to contain your raw thoughts, “I've been well. perfect, actually. I've been seeing someone.” you took a big gulp of your coffee.

heeseung’s face lit up, “that boxer, right? I saw your post! i had so many questions, like where you met him and all that… I'm surprised at how fast both you and jake moved on after your break up, but I'm happy for you-”

“wait, break up?”

heeseung blinked at your interruption, his silence making the cogs in your head whirl as you tried to decipher what he meant.

“heeseung, what did jake tell you about our ‘break up’?”

“oh… well he just said you broke up because rumours got out within your company and your boss wasn't happy with you, like, dating an idol. and like two months or so after that he started dating natty.”

things weren't making sense. while you had done your best to keep your relationship with jake a secret, the only other person who knew besides your girls was doyoung, and you knew he didn't give a damn about your love life. secondly, besides the fact that jake cheated on you, jake had also lied to his friends that he had broken up with you while you were still dating him.

while you were still missing him daily, wondering what he was up to. while you were still hoping for the day the two of you could go public. while you were still wishing him ‘good night’s and ‘love you's over the phone.

fuck. you had never felt so, fucking, played. that's why heeseung sat there, looking oblivious as shit because he was. because he was under the impression that the breakup was mutual, that no one was at fault.

you didn't have the capacity to sit in front of heeseung and explain the truth. you feared it would only humiliate you more.

“hey, thanks for the coffee. I need to get back to work.”

you hoped he didn't notice the slight tremor in your voice, or the dampness of your eyes. you crushed the empty coffee cup in your hands and tossed it in the bin on your way out as you trudged down the street as far away from heeseung as possible, your hands still balled into shaking fists as your anger seeped through your eyes and rolled down your cheeks.

you sniffled, bringing your fists up to your eyes to rub away your tears harshly, trying to suppress a sob that was bubbling up your throat, your legs still moving in constant motion as your elbow bumped into someone.

“sorry.” you muttered, turning to bow slightly, keeping your head low and timid as you turned to continue walking to god-knows-where, when a hand shot out to grab your arm.

“miss y/n?” and to your absolute horror, because bumping into heeseung wasn't quite enough bad luck for the day, you had to bump into jeno too.

prev | m.list | next

a/n: next chapter mayyy or may not also be written depending on whichever better expresses the scene I have in my mind. also I'm soooo sorry for the slow updates 😭😭😭🙏🙏

and!! I need feedback!!! do y'all think the pacing of the story could be faster/slower? or its okay where it is now?

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[jenosbliss]

pairing. gn!reader x johnny | genre. fluff | wc. 1.3k | warnings. none | requested. here

Johnny Suh was a mystery you didn’t know you cared about.

Every day at work, he was a fleeting presence—a tall, effortlessly charming guy you’d pass in the hallway or see by the coffee machine. He’d flash you that signature smile, the one that made everyone’s day just a little brighter, and you’d smile back, thinking, Who even smiles this much at work?

You didn’t know much about him. He worked in a different department, always surrounded by people. He was funny, sure—you’d heard enough laughter echoing down the hall after his conversations. But that was it. He was a fleeting moment in your day, a brief exchange that never went further than a polite greeting.

Until tonight.

The company’s annual work party was a glittering affair. The downtown lounge was draped in fairy lights, the bar serving overpriced cocktails disguised as “complimentary,” and the DJ playing an eclectic mix of hits that somehow pleased no one and everyone at the same time.

You were nursing a half-empty glass of sparkling water by the bar, the faint hum of conversation buzzing around you. Your friends had vanished into the crowd, leaving you awkwardly stationed near a decorative fern. You weren’t sure why you’d come—these events always felt like an awkward middle ground between socializing and networking, and you were terrible at both.

You were about to make an escape when a familiar laugh reached your ears. Turning, you spotted Johnny across the room, his broad shoulders and navy blazer impossible to miss. He was in the middle of a conversation, his hands gesturing animatedly as he threw his head back in laughter.

It was hard not to watch him. Johnny had this magnetic presence, the kind that made people gravitate toward him without even realizing it.

And then it happened—his gaze flicked up, catching yours from across the room.

You froze, your glass halfway to your lips. His expression shifted into something softer, his lips curving into that familiar, easy smile. He raised his drink in a casual toast, his eyes twinkling with amusement, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

Oh no.

Before you could overthink it, Johnny started walking toward you.

“Hey,” he greeted, leaning casually against the bar. “You’re Y/N, right?”

The sound of your name from his lips was enough to make your stomach flutter. “Yeah. And you’re Johnny.”

“Glad to know I’m not the only one doing the hallway smile thing,” he said, grinning.

You laughed, relaxing slightly. “It’s hard not to smile when someone’s beaming at you like they’re in a toothpaste commercial.”

“Guilty,” he admitted, shrugging. “I like making people smile. It’s my thing.”

“Well, it works,” you said, feeling your cheeks warm.

“So,” he said, turning to face you fully. “What brings you to the party? Besides the free drinks, of course.”

You glanced at your glass, then back at him. “Honestly? I almost didn’t come. These things aren’t really my scene.”

“Same,” he said, surprising you. “But then I thought, ‘What if the person I’ve been smiling at all year is here, and I finally get to talk to them?’”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “Smooth.”

“Thank you,” he said with a playful bow. “So, now that I’ve got you here, tell me about yourself, Y/N. I feel like I’ve spent the past year seeing glimpses of you but knowing nothing about you. It’s kind of tragic, don’t you think?”

You tilted your head, amused. “Tragic, huh?”

“Absolutely,” he said, his eyes sparkling. “What if you’re secretly the coolest person in the office and I’ve been missing out this whole time?”

Talking to Johnny was like opening a window in a stuffy room.

He asked questions about everything—your favorite books, your go-to coffee order, even the weirdest thing you’d ever witnessed in the office. Every time you answered, he’d respond with a quip or a thoughtful comment that made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t expected.

“So,” he said, swirling the ice in his drink. “What’s your karaoke song?”

“Karaoke song?”

“Yeah,” he said, his grin widening. “You can tell a lot about a person by their karaoke pick. It’s science.”

You rolled your eyes, laughing. “Well, if I say something embarrassing, are you going to judge me?”

“Absolutely,” he said, his voice teasing. “But only in the most supportive way possible.”

You shook your head, smiling. “Fine. You Belong With Me.”

Johnny gasped, clutching his chest like you’d just delivered a mortal blow. “Iconic,” he said. “We’re definitely singing that at the next office karaoke night.”

“We don’t even have office karaoke nights,” you pointed out.

“Yet,” he said, winking.

The rest of the party faded into the background as the two of you talked. It was easy to lose track of time with Johnny—his humor was effortless, his curiosity genuine, and his energy contagious.

“You know,” he said at one point, leaning against the bar. “I always wondered if you were as interesting as you looked.”

You raised an eyebrow, laughing. “As I looked?”

“Yeah,” he said, his tone playful but sincere. “You’ve got this way of looking like you’re solving the world’s problems while waiting for your coffee. It’s intimidating.”

“Intimidating?” you repeated, smiling. “You’re literally the least intimidated person I’ve ever met.”

“Well, now I’m not,” he said, his grin widening. “Now I know you’re secretly the coolest person in the office.”

By the time the party began winding down, you felt like you’d known Johnny for years instead of just an hour. He walked with you to the coat rack near the door, his hands stuffed casually in his pockets.

“So,” he said as you grabbed your coat. “Can I say something without it being weird?”

“That depends,” you replied, your eyebrow arching. “Is it actually weird?”

Johnny chuckled, holding up his hands. “No, no. Just… I’m really glad you came tonight.”

Your chest fluttered, a warmth spreading through you that you hadn’t felt in a long time. “Me too,” you said softly.

His smile softened, his usual playful energy replaced by something quieter, more intimate. “Now that we’re officially past the hallway smiles, what do you say we hang out sometime? Like, outside of work. No fluorescent lights, no awkward coffee machine conversations.”

You tilted your head, pretending to consider. “Are you asking me out, Johnny?”

“Depends,” he said, his grin teasing but his eyes warm. “Are you saying yes?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m saying yes.”

“Great,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Because I’ve got a karaoke duet with your name on it.”

As you exchanged numbers, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, the guy you always smiled at in the hallway was about to become someone much more. And judging by the way he looked at you, he was thinking the exact same thing.

navigation.

masterlist. nct dream | nct 127 | wayv

[maroonpascal]

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: you’re bored at home and you prepare a little surprise for your man

Warnings: 18+ smut, MDNI, age gap, no outbreak!au, soft!joel, oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), swearing, spanking, coming untouched, cursing, use of pet names (my girl, babe, babygirl, angel, my love, good girl, princess), use of “slut” (just once)

The only one you’ve ever been with and then only one you would want to be with for the rest of your life; no one knows you as much as he does, your favourite clothes, favourite drink and favourite… positions.

You came home earlier that day, and after a shower you decided to put on the blue lingerie, Joel’s favourite. Because If he knows what your favourite things are, well you definitely know his. A glance at the mirror as you’re clipping the thighs to the blue laced garter belt, and everything looks in place, biting a bit your lip thinking of how that set is gonna be stripped off of you as soon as he will set foot inside the house; it’s not that cold, so you just grab one of his plaid shirts and wear it buttoning it up, leaving though the last buttons open, part of your chest visible with a shadow of the blue lace under. You try to do everything to keep yourself occupied, but having prepared that way for him already got yourself aroused at the thought of what is gonna happen when he’s gonna see you in that tempting set; and there it is, feeling becoming already wet, not daring to touch yourself but closing your legs as you’re on the couch, trying to read but everything you can see on the pages are the words that are gonna fall from Joel’s lips. You check your phone, shouldn’t be too long before he’s gonna be home but that wait is already driving you crazy, more than once having to stop your hand from going down.

You get a tingle when you hear the keys at the door, closing your eyes for a moment and breathing deeply, trying to look composed and not like you had just slipped your hand down your panties, the book ending on the floor.

You hear the water rushing in the kitchen, Joel washing his hands, and then the steps leading to the living room. And there he is, looking effortlessly beautiful in the light of the dying day, silver hair shining and his eyes catching you there on the couch.

“Hey, how’s ma’ girl?”, his deep voice reaches you, his look softening as he sees you in that shirt of his, kissing you already on your lips, beard tickling you. “Good, you see something familiar on me?” You already tease, and the fact that he has no idea of the set makes you even more aroused.

“I see it,” he beams, a hand touching the hem of the shirt, “Looks better on you than me.”, his fingers go up, lingering on the thigh, covered by the black thighs. He goes upper, gasping when he comes in contact with the surprise that you got him. His eyes goes down, rising upper the shirt and revealing the little blue stripes clipped to the thighs, “Oh what you got here, babe?”, he asks the rhetoric question, you smirking up at him, “Find it yourself, I think you’re gonna like it.”

He smiles, you laying back on the couch, letting him start opening the buttons of that shirt. He does it with an almost painful slowness, taking in every inch of your skin that he is letting uncover, starting from the top and a low moan leaves his lips at the sight of that blue lace bra, hugging your shapes perfectly; your heart races when you feel his hand landing on the centre of your chest, smoothing it then on both your breasts, his other hand working on the rest of the buttons. His hands leave your body for a moment when the buttons are all undone, that set shimmering under the orange light of the dying day, and you see that light that you know far too well in his eyes, that light he has when he’s thinking about all the things that he could do to you.

“Fuck, look at you, takin’ all my breath away.” He lets out, you smiling knowing the power that you have on him, that power to bring him to his damn knees whenever you want to, because there isn’t anything that he’s as happy to do in his life as pleasing you in all the ways he can.

His hands smooth on your shoulders, under the shirt, making it fall so that now you have nothing but that set on you, oh and the set of thighs, which he unclips, hands grabbing your skin as he pushes them down.

You widen a bit your legs, while caressing yourself on your chest, and he takes off the jacket, remaining with another plaid shirt of his, before setting himself between your legs, the contrast between your bare skin and his clothes, jeans grinding on your delicate skin. You pull him in a kiss, hand going behind his head, getting lost in those curls, keeping him closer as he pushes his hips against you; you can feel his excitement, moving your hips back, creating a nice friction between you both. Joel leaves your lips, now going lower, hands cupping your breasts, and lips tracing them; he takes your left nipple visible under that lace between his fingertips, pinching it and you moan at that, the little pain already igniting all your senses. His kisses get lower, hands shaping your body, until he reaches the garter and pulls it down, now his look only on that lace that is barely covering you.

You see his expression changing though, and that is when you know that he’s noticed the visible wet stain on the tissue.

A hand goes directly cupping you there, your cunt twitching at that, “Touched yourself before I came home?” he starts, pushing the panties aside and looking at the tissue, and you don’t even have to answer, it is all there. You bite your bottom lip, and there isn’t even a reason to not look guilty, you wouldn’t even know how to not to, it is written all over your face, and your panties too.

“Babygirl couldn’t wait a little longer, already thinkin’ about the way I would have fucked you in this set?” His low deep voice reaches you, as you’re just able to swallow your saliva, in trepidation for what it is gonna entail. Well, you already know.

And you can't wait for that.

“Yes,” you challenge him, Joel not expecting you to answer, stopping his touching on you, you getting a little up on your elbows, “Couldn’t think about anything else, but you.” Your seductive voice feels like honey to him, but it’s not gonna sugarcoat what is gonna happen next.

“Ain’t you a little slut.” Words that are followed by a little but firm slap on your cunt, you moving your hips to that, desperate for that touch. You don’t even flinch, you just look like that’s what you really want.

“You know what to do know.” He instructs, and you twirl your hair still smiling, knowing that it is driving him crazy how you enjoy so much what is gonna happen next; you turn, elbows on the couch, knees well pointed on the couch, and ass up.

“Attagirl.” He satisfyingly says, you feeling the rough jeans on the back of your thighs, brushing on your skin. A hand goes up on your back, reaching the back of your neck, then going lower again, moulding that skin under his palm, you relaxing at that touch that you know so well, and knowing what is coming when the hand goes to cup your cheek, playing with it before a spank is delivered to it.

You whimper lightly at the sudden contact, and you would love to touch yourself to that, but you keep your hands where they are, learning the lesson (you know that you’re gonna break it other hundred times to end up in that position).

A second hit is delivered to the left cheek, the contact being followed by his calloused hands sprawling on your ass, massaging it and you feel his lips kissing each cheek, that tenderness such a contrast to the firmness he delivered those spanks with.

“Can my girl take a couple more?” you feel his voice on your skin, there on your hip, kisses all over your skin and you nod. He sees you nodding but he taps the hip with his finger anyway, “Need to hear it, babe.”

You take a big breath, “Yes, I can.” You say firmly, lips brushing more on your hips and then on your ass, “Good girl.”

The third one lands on your skin, firm as you like it, and as strong as his hand can deliver, a hand immediately massaging it. He likes doing that, but you know how much he’s always careful to not hurt you too much, always giving you breaks to prepare for the next one and you think that contrast in him is probably the thing that you love the most. You’re lost in these thoughts when the next one hit, you whimpering a little more just because of how your mind had wandered.

The familiar tender touch goes to mend the hit, soft as if that hand hadn't just spanked you.

He spreads a bit further your knees, and a hand goes again over the centre of your panties, that cold wetness sticking in the panties even more than before, now even more aroused after that spanking.

“Last one.” To which you respond with a loud yes, and where it gets delivered leaves you without breath.

His hand has landed right in the centre, on your cunt, the obscene sound of the wetness filling the room, pain igniting you even more. “Fuck.” You cry, legs almost shaking, his hand going to cup that centre, that wet tissue under his palm, and you almost squirm, trying to catch your breath.

The panties get pushed to one side, “Oh fuck me.” He exhales seeing how wet you are, dripping for him and him only.

“Like what you see?” You tease him once you got your breath back, and all you get in response is his finger going between your slick folds, dividing them, a knuckle pushing against that wetness.

Thumbs go spreading you even more open, the cold air hitting you, but it is soon replaced by his breathing, “So much, you can’t even imagine it.” He lets out before diving in you, lips kissing you there and you moan loudly, arching more your back and so you’re spreading even more your legs for him. He licks and kisses, then brushing his finger on you, touching you almost delicately until he reaches your clit, fingertip pressing there and circling it as he goes back to make love to you with his mouth, obscene kisses being left there. A high pitched scream leaves your lips when he presses his tongue into you, warm and wet, shutting your eyes at that pleasure. He twirls his tongue, as you push your hips even further, the stimulation already sending you over the edge; the shape of his nose brushes on you as he goes deeper, and it’s all so much, your heartbeat racing.

Fingers trace from your clit to your soft plush, his lips leaving you as he takes back his breath, letting his fingers moving over you, but still not inside you. And you want that, you want it so much and so desperately, that you don’t even realise you just said it out loud.

“What’s that my princess need?” He lavishly asks, his voice so much deeper, his other hand brushing on your back; “Repeat it, babe.” He insists, seeing how you’re just muffling those words against a pillow of the couch.

“Want your… your fingers.” You whimper, trying to keep up your knees, even though they’re so close to give up, too much pleasure that you could just collapse on the cushions below.

“Be more specific.” He repeats, a light spank on your left cheek, you hissing at that and your body responding by getting even more wet, if possible.

“I want your fingers inside me.” You then cry, hands grabbing that damn pillow for dear life, and you can feel Joel smirking on your back, before leaving a kiss on the small of your back.

That is how he’s slowly pushing a fingertip inside of you, stretching you and slicking in so perfectly that it lets out a moan out of him, pushing until his knuckle and then almost getting it all out before pushing all back in again. A slow but deep pace is built, a second finger getting pushed in, your folds welcoming it so well; that is when your knees start to tremble though and so, lost in the whole pleasure, mind fogged by it, you search for the words to tell him that you want to lay down. Nothing is gonna happen if you did it without asking, but you just want to make him aware of that.

“Joel, I- I need to-”

You don’t even get to finish your phrase that he’s gently holding your hips and guiding them down, then brushing the back of his hands on the back of your legs; you breathe deeply, letting your body relax, before you can see him kneeling next to your face, kissing your forehead carefully, brushing your hair back, “Thank you.” You breathe, him nodding, his features bathed in that sunlight.

Your hand reaches his beard, him kissing your palm and holding it in his, brushing his thumb over it; your hand is so small compared to his, beard tickling your palm, making you smile.

The way he looks at you, the full adoration in his eyes that makes your heart flutter and your cunt twitching as you have been postponing your orgasm.

“I still want to come for you.” You utter, killing the distance between your lips, kissing him, and biting lightly his bottom lip, your taste still there, trapped on his lips and on that silverish beard.

“Turn around for me then, angel.” And you do as asked, laying with your back against the couch, your back thanking you, and you already widen your legs for him again; panties get pushed down and end up on the floor, Joel taking in the sight of those folds slicked and your cunt getting swollen, waiting to be touched and kissed again, only to finally rose.

“Alright, so where were we?” He jokingly asks, making you giggle, as he’s getting settled between your legs, laying too on the couch.

“I think that you were eating me out so good that you brought me to my knees.” And Joel loves how you got your breath back, he loves how you respond to him, how you hold your own and challenge him.

“ ’m gonna start again from that, then.” He devilishly smiles as you see his head disappearing down there, letting out a moan when you feel again that tongue on you, now caressing directly your clit, arms going under your thighs and then anchoring his hands over them, guiding them open as much as he likes to.

You thank him mentally for that, because your first impulse was to close your legs, shying away from that touch, almost denying yourself of that pleasure that is gonna make you explode real soon. Your hand reaches his, him responding by intertwining his fingers to yours, that touch being as intimate as his tongue pushing once again inside you, letting out of you a high pitched cry.

You can’t help but let the other hand reach his dust silvered hair, letting it get lost in it, soft under your fingers and when you look down it is quite a view, seeing him there between your legs; that is when he rises up a bit his head, still working on you with his tongue, and locks his gaze with yours, you melting under that look, seeing his nose with a stain shining on it, just like his moustache looks shinier with your pleasure on it. It’s outrageous and beautiful at the same time, his tongue not giving signs of leaving your clit until you’re gonna cum over it, sounds filling the room, the light outside leaving the place for the incoming darkness.

You shiver at the way the beard brushes on the inside of your thighs, knowing that they’re gonna need some soothing cream after all of this, but it’s all worth it.

Pleasure is building more and more inside of you, still trying to postpone your orgasm, never wanting all of that to ever end. You would want him eating you out for even the whole night, knowing that Joel would give it all to you, no questions asked.

He’s breathing you all in, in fact, enjoying all of that and brushing his hips against the couch, the desperate need for some contact to ease his aching length, to give himself that release that he has been postponing, just like you’re doing with yours, because actually at the moment only your pleasure exists and he can endure that, this is all about you.

Juices have wetted his beard and all his chin, him swallowing everything that you can give to him, and he gets pleasure from that.

It’s when he’s sucking on your clit, almost ravenous, that your body can’t take it anymore and you know that you can’t hold it no more.

“Joel, Joel, Joel,” you repeat his name like a mantra, like it is all that you know, the only word that your mouth can pronounce, all your vocabulary having been reduced to just one name.

“Give it all to me, baby.” He encourages you, his voice so fucking deep that you start orgasming already that, keeping it going once he places his lips over your clit again, kissing it messily, tongue making you an even worse mess. Your moans are loud, riding that pleasure, your body igniting like it’s being shocked, shaking under that touch and all your pleasure filling his mouth, those damn lips making you scream, arching your back and seeing fucking stars behind your shut eyelids.

A series of bad words leave your lips, biting your own hand and your legs shaking uncontrollably, chest going up and down so fast, heart in your neck, your ears, pulsing everywhere.

And Joel lets his head collapse on your hip, thrusting once again against the couch and finally releasing, coming untouched and with all his clothes on, such is your power on him.

You feel light pecks all over your hips, leaving wet traces, then on your tummy and upper on your chest, finally reaching then your lips and you kiss him with so much passion, both your hands cupping his face, melting in that kiss and in that tenderness that he’s giving you.

He leaves your lips to leave a kiss on the tip of your nose, making you smile softly, his adoring eyes taking in your relaxed face and reddened cheeks.

“I love you so much.” He lets out, brushing your hair behind your ear, and your heart explode even more than before, always getting the same feeling when he pronounces those words.

“I love you too.” You exhale and you let him place his head on your chest, him laying his weight on you, brushing a hand in his hair.

“God, your heartbeat, is that all for me?” He says, brushing his hand on your left part of the chest, still that bra on you.

“Yes, all for you my love.” Words fall from your lips like the most expensive velvet and you adore how he takes in every single detail of you.

“Uhm, Joel… did you come or should I do something…” you leave the words hanging , having embraced him in a hug, breaking those moments of silence that had followed your orgasm.

You see him rising himself on his arms.

“Babygirl, you got your ol’ man coming in his clothes.”

And you try so hard to not laugh, but you inevitably burst out laughing anyway, laugh reverberating the living room, him chuckling too and soon you’re both laughin, high in that post orgasm haze, seeing him duck his head; Joel goes to hide his face on the crook of your neck, still laughing and you couldn’t be more in love with him, with this man whose laugh is the most beautiful sound in the whole world, this man that if he could would give the whole world to you.

[marstonsboy]

had another evil thought that spiralled out of control. indulge me for a moment:

over the years, people start arriving on a near empty plot of land west of blackwater. it’s uncertain who got there first: bessie matthews, beatrice and lyle morgan, eliza, isaac morgan, etc.— but more and more people show up until it’s something of a community. jenny kirk, mac and davey callander. then soon after, jake adler, sean macguire, kieran duffy, hosea matthews, lenny summers, molly o’shea, eagle flies, susan grimshaw. more and more in such a short amount of time. arthur morgan is the last, and suddenly the deaths stop.

after a sudden stretch of years with little newcomers, a house starts taking shape. soon enough the house is a home, and peculiar things can be found all over: a dog barking where no one can find it. echoes of campfire songs going late into the night. photos of john and abigail’s wedding, attended by what remained of their family. a taxidermy squirrel that appears back on the mantle no matter how many times you throw it out, wearing a very familiar hat. in just a few years a heartbreakingly young girl comes home, bearing a strong resemblance to one abigail marston.

then, gunshots. john marston and uncle are the next to arrive.

in the next few years, the house is eerily quiet. the residents see it falling into disrepair, but they can’t do anything about it. the dog stops barking, the campfire has gone cold and won’t relight. abigail marston is next, and though they’re happy to see her, the arrival brings up a question. what happens to jack now?

the livestock are gone, and the house is dusty, all but stripped of the knickknacks and personality that built up over the years, like someone found it all too painful to look at. john’s hat and guns, once tucked away inside a box beneath the bed, vanish the night after abigail arrives. newspapers come to the door, announcing the death of former government agent edgar ross.

soon after, a wanted poster, bearing the name “john marston jr.” and a sketch resembling the boy’s namesake so much that it has john himself stumbling back. jack was only a boy when he left, and now he’s wanted dead or alive, with a price over his head that could rival some of his uncles and aunts back in the day.

every year that passes without any sign of jack is a relief. the house doesn’t change much, still abandoned, but letters come in. mary-beth gaskill, tilly jackson, simon pearson, sadie adler, charles smith— old friends and family, checking in on him. none of them reach the recipient, as he is not home, but they’re filled to the brim with love, letting him know that he isn’t alone. that he always has a home with them, if he wants it.

one day, john spots a book he doesn’t recognize on the shelf by the piano, and he stops. “Red Dead” by a J. Marston. it doesn’t take much to figure out who that could be. he opens it, flips through, and reads it to abigail. the kinder parts get read to their daughter, ecstatic to learn about how her older brother is doing. their son did become a writer after all, even if everything he’s written speaks volumes of his grief, his anger. the loneliness he’s endured since losing his family, and killing edgar ross.

arthur morgan opens his old journal to find several entries and sketches from john, but also many new ones from jack. his handwriting is just as clumsy as his father’s, but his drawings are more refined. little portraits of the gang members that lived and scribbly sketches of what the world is becoming in their absence decorate the pages. war, cars outnumbering horses, and a very detailed drawing of a revolver none of them have ever seen before.

he’s all grown up, and good lord is he angry. he’s mourning, and hurt, and he’s lost so much, but he’s still undoubtedly jack marston. he draws dogs and writes about missing rufus, slipping strays some food from his bag whenever he sees them. sometimes he’ll write a dry, sarcastic joke that speaks of his father’s influence, or mention missing his momma’s cooking, “even though it was hardly edible,” which makes abigail roll her eyes. he hates fishing and prefers to lose hours of the day with his nose in a book. the best maintained part of beecher’s hope is the graves on that hill, which gain new flowers every week. sometimes, if they listen close, they can hear him talking, telling his ma and pa what he’s been up to, though he saves the grisly details for his book.

and when jack marston finally does walk through that door, much older than when anyone he knew last saw him but far too young to die, he is welcomed home with open arms. because no matter what he’s done, and no matter how much he may hate himself, he will always have a home here with people who love him, and who can’t wait to get to know him all over again.

[chrattho1]

bsf!chris x reader

summary: you and chris have been friends for the longest time,but what happens when you get to know about his fantasy of fucking your face?

warnings: smut,bj,use of pet names ( a little ), no use of y/n,slightly sub!chris

a/n: do not copy my work,but if you want you can use it as inspo whenever!!! (english is not my first language)

your tiny palms,long fingers,your freshly manicured nails,wrapped around chris’ dick pumping it slowly as you bend your head down to take him in your mout-

“chris?” you spoke waving your hands in front of chris’ face to bring him back to earth

unfortunately,for chris he was just day dreaming again. it had become a frequent thought train for him when he is around you,at first he ignored thinking maybe its just because he is a horny kid but he started questioning himself after jerking off to a very specific picture of you almost every night since the past month.

“whats up with you kid?” you asked chris as he slowly bought a couch cusion upto his lap and set it there to hide the tent in his pants that was becoming prominent with each passing second

“nothing,just alot on my mind,also can you go grab a pepsi for me thank you” chris spoke fast,catching a breath as soon as he ended his sentence

“okay…” you get up from the couch rolling your eyes at his odd behaviour

chris quickly puts a hand in his pants to adjust himself before you walk in again

“chr-” you were taken aback from the scene in front

chris quickly pulled his hand out of his pants and sit up straight,contemplating if he should make an excuse and leave or tell you that he was itchy

“i-that was-it-” chris tried to come up with something

“chris” you almost sighed

“its okay” you continued speaking,now coming closer and taking a seat next to him,fearlessly looking into his eyes

“its not what it seems like?” chris asked narrowing his eyes trying to see if he can convince you that it isnt what it seems like

“chris i can see your dick almost popping out of your pants” you chuckle,eyes wide looking at the dick print on his sweats

“god” chris groans,his face falling in his hands as he sank down the couch

“hey hey hey” you spoke trying to pull his hands off his face

“its okay” you tried assuring him

“no its not! its weird ive been having these-thoughts about you since the past month i dont know” chris laid his hands to his sides,looking down at the carpet,embarrassed.

“i thought we shared everything,why didn’t you tell me” you look at him innocently

“are you crazy why would i tell you i was having wet dreams and thoughts about you giving me head and what not” chris scoffed now looking directly at you

he cant seem to read the expression on your face currently

“and?” you asked coming closer in contact with his face

“a-and?” chris repeated dumbfounded,his eyes not moving from your lips

“and what other kinds of thoughts” your eyes flicker

“uh-um you-uh riding me” chris’ breath hitched,he can feel you breathing on his face,that alone driving him insane

“yeah? and?” you asked again slowly changing your position and getting off the couch

“most-mostly just you sucking my dick with your boo-”

chris eyes follow you,as you get down on your knees in between his legs and pull off your crop top before he could finish his sentence

“with your boobs out-fuck” chris finished his sentence groaning at the sight of your lacey black bra

“go on” you said putting your hands behind to unclasp the bra, slowly and gently removing it off of you

“fu-oh my g-yes and-um uh-you let me fuck your face” chris cannot form sentences,nor can he blink as he takes in the sight in front. he bucks his hips forward sinking in the couch,pulling his trousers off,still in disbelief that his dreams are coming true

“fuck your’e so fucking beautiful” chris says hastily getting rid of his black calvin clein boxers looking at you like you’re a piece of meat

he watches as you spit in your hand,that image alone making him almost cum

“fuck ma you’re killing me” chris has forgotten how to breathe

you slowly wrap your spit covered hand around his dick and pump up and down at a painfully slow speed

“shit-dont tease me im gonna cum like right-t now-w” chris spoke,voice shuddering with pleasure

you collect some spit in your mouth before bringing your lips to his tip and sloppily kissing it,releasing the said saliva,you tease his tip,kissing it,swirling your tongue around it,which brings out a reaction in chris

“ahhhh-fu-fuck” chris groaned rolling his head back,eyes shut as he removed the red backwards hat he was wearing and throwing it somewhere

you quickly stop what you’re doing and that makes him shoot up,his eyesbrows in a knot

“keep your eyes on me” you spoke before going back in and chris complied nodding his head several times in desperation

you finally take him whole,your tongue touching the underside of his dick and slowly swirling around it

“oh my-" chris spoke, blinking repeatedly trying not to cum right then and there,he quickly grabs your hair in a messy pony tail before you start bobbing your head up and down his huge dick,his tip reaching the very end of your throat making your eyes water and saliva collect around your mouth with each dive

chris watches in awe how your tits move rhythmically with your movements

“tha-just like that yes baby” he spoke between his whimpers and heavy breath

his words just making you up your speed,his whimpers get louder and heavier with each moment. he bucks his hips fucking your face and you take it,he goes harder with each thrust

“fuck fuck im go-nna come fuck fu-” you and him both aligning your speed with that

“shit shit shit shit-shi” chris gets louder and louder as he reaches his climax

“ahhhhhhh fu-ck” he groans loudly,shooting white ropes down your throat with one final big thrust,eyes shutting right after and thrusting into your mouth a few more times to get rid of his high

you pull yourself off of him,both of you catching your breaths.

you get up putting on your crop top,completely forgetting about your bra that is probably lying on the floor somewhere and go grab a tissue to wipe the access cum off your face. you look over at chris,looking at you in disbelief,his face tinted with a shade of red

he grabs his trousers and boxers putting them on before slouching on the couch again,you go sit beside him

“you are fucking awesome” he looks you dead in the eye.

[tranceinnumerabletabs]

When Johnny Comes Back pt11

Howdy again y'all! It's a pleasure to post another part of the story so many enjoy. I'm sorry if I diverge from canon too much?

tags: @supermegabitchboyexceptimagirl, and @beelzebee

part1, part2, part3, part4, part5, part6, part7,part8,part9,part10

His eyes shoot open “shit”

“What is it”

“….”

“What is it?” You ask more paranoid

“Nothing baby” he says quickly, eyes lost in thought

“What happened?” You ask more panicked. He looks at you and hesitates, no, looks resigned to what he must say

“It’s nothing” he insists through clenched teeth looking down, almost like it’s forced.

“Johnny please just tell m-“

“It’s nothing!" he snaps. You flinch in shock and worry covers your face. Soap looked so…conflicted.

You try to think of what to do, lost. Then you settle on just…sitting near him.

A bad silence shrouds the atmosphere. This wasn’t how you wanted to start your morning with the newly returned soldier. You feel the guilt in your stomach grow more and more. You just….didn’t think this would happen. You just snooped around a little because you were curious and…well…nervous. You never thought this would lead to this. You never knew what your roommate was up to. You, admittedly, dismissed a lot of the claims because:

a.a lot of misinformation are on these sketchy sites and b.you can never really know everything and c….you..didn’t want to believe it….silly but….unproven claims weren’t the first thing you wanted to think about when thinking of Johnny. No. When you saw those vague claims you didn’t think that the man who jokes about being in love with you was a war criminal. Those people be anyone. They could be the ones Johnny was fighting against, it the ones that shot him. Or…maybe it’s justified what they did due to unknown reasons…or…he didn’t know or it was out of his control. Can’t blame a soldier can you? Especially since Johnny tells you it’s just…well….he made his job sound boring sometimes. You’re beginning to think he just wanted to calm you down. He seemed like a calm guy so you believed him. Looking at Soap now? He’s tense, deep in thought and covering his mouth.

You reach out a hand to the pondering man and place it gently on his shoulder. “Hey” you softly say “look at me”

He tilts his head up, eyes troubled yet resigned somehow. “What can you tell me?” You offer, thumbing his collarbone. He places a hands on yours, leaning his head to it, deep in thought. He looks at you and cautiously says “it’s….something I thought I knew about someone I trust, turned out tae be true. Can’t figure out how anyone can know”

“So your friend’s secret was revealed?”

He nods “there shouldn’t be any way fer anyone tae find out fer sure….could be a lucky guess”

“Who did your friend tell about the secret?”

He shakes his head

“Not a soul to what I know.”

“Then how’d you know?”

“I didn’t. He never told me. I just….had a hunch. And it’s not like he doesn’t have his reasons”

“Was it a really bad thing?”

Silence for a moment.

“No. Bastard fucking deserved it.”

“Then why are you upset?”

“It’s….jus’….a surprise” and also no one should know, but it’s plausible to piece together.

“Does it make him worse in your eyes?”

Another silence

“….no. He did what he had to”

“Then did it make him better in your eyes?”

He thinks for a moment “aye. He took matters in his own hand.” His eyes, down and still contemplating the information, close tightly and his hand brings your hand to cup his face. He sighs, still upset about your knowledge.

“What do you think of me Bonny?”

You tilt your head in question. He opens his eyes and look at you “what do you think of me now?”

You’re silent, finding your answer. He doesn’t pressure you, feeling as if he’s telling you to take your time

“I….don’t know what’s the full truth about you. Everything I read is so vague, jumbled and confusing….” You trail off. He squeezes both your hands as encouragement to keep talking. His eyes glimmer with a sad desperation.

“….I don’t know what to make of this, Soap….even if you tell me the truth I have a feeling that’s not pretty either…” you stare off to the window somewhere. You don’t want to think you’ve entirely misjudged Johnny, and his saddened eyes just make you rethink a lot of things. You sigh “Johnny…I….” You shuffle a little “I still care for you...I wouldn’t want you anywhere in the world but here with me.”

He looked comforted by that, reassured that you’re not disgusted by him or think him responsible for some really bad shit.

“Tha’s good…” he sighs, still upset about you knowing anyway. He never wanted that hideous and cruel world seeping its stench into the paradise he’s created with you here. You lean into him more, offering your presence more fully. He looks at you with eyes that are a mix between his signature puppy eyes that always had you folding to his will and somber eyes that seem to apologize just for being here. He opens his mouth “I….” Sigh “I…”

“It’s okay Johnny….I’m sure it’ll all be okay…” He looks down, doubtful of your optimistic claim.

He stands up and looks down at you. He a big boy but he never felt intimidating to you. He was always the oversized golden retriever with a Mohawk who liked whiskey. You stand up too and hug him. “Never wanted ye tae s-“

“I know. But forget about all that. You’re home now”

He hugs back “I’ll clear yer name” he promises a while later. You nod “yes please.”

“And get rid of the agents”

“I’d like that. I’m sorry I ever got involved in this”

“I know….I’ll send this back to base…”

“Are you going to let your friend know about this?”

“Aye. If anyone should know it should be him”

“Good. He’ll appreciate it”

.

.

.

“Ye still love me right?”

You giggle bashfully at his choice in words.

“Why? Would you love me if I was a war criminal?”

“Aye, if Hitler had a wife I think I can have yer love”

“So you’re as bad as Hitler?” He groans. You lean up to kiss his cheek.

Then he grins “there’s my hero’s welcome”

[axxa-the-allikatt]

Soooooo I finally got some free time 😃✊ here’s your order of bllk characters with their short s/o with a side of some suggestive interactions 🤌. I’m making it a short series since I probably can’t finish so many characters in one sitting, so tell me if there is anyone specific you’re looking for. I’m gonna start off with my favourites, humour me.

***

1. Size doesn’t matter. I mean your height- your height doesn’t matter.

-Isagi definitely, but also anyone else who might fit this category like Bachira, Kunigami and maybe Niko + Any character from other shows that you think might fit, ignoring the mention of the bllk program <3

The first time you encountered him, the two of you were around only 11 years of age. You had been walking by the park, back home after school, when a ball had come flying at your face, knocking you squarely in the jaw. You had two broken teeth because of this, and the boy who had kicked the ball, our little sweetheart, had insisted on taking you to his home, bawling his eyes out all the way for no good reason, while you intermittently spat what blood was spilling from your gums, freaked out by the little crybaby.

Once all that confusion and worry had passed by, your parents had been given his address so that they could come pick you up.

And that was how you’d snatched a place in his life. That and the fact that once you had managed to get your hands on his address, you would randomly drop by his house on your way home, uninvited, scare the living daylight’s out of him, gratefully accept what titbits his mother would humorously provide you with, give his father a salute on your way out and never bring up the visit again.

Over the next three years, the two of you had gained a reputation as a pair, and it was a well known fact that wherever one of you were, the other was bound to be close by. So much so that your school teachers often questioned one of you when the other was absent to class.

You had grown fond of the silly boy you had met by chance and had often made him extremely flustered with your quite direct flirting conquests, while he hid behind his hands like maiden.

This was quite hilarious to due to the fact that over the years you had remained a short, skinny kid, where as the other boy had out grown you and was now both taller and more muscular due to his football training.

Your friendship came to an abrupt pause as you were to move across the world for your father’s job, with only a week’s notice to make the most of your time with the other boy.

In a moment of childish desperation, the boy had confessed to you asked you out on a date which earned him a good thwack on the head. For what joy was he asking when you were moving half way across the world in a few days and were going to return god knows when. But you had agreed nonetheless, admitting that you liked him too and that you wanted to make the most of your time with him. Ah. Young love.

Four years passed as you lived your life abroad, finishing high school, making new friends, having fun, not growing any taller, but most importantly, you had kept yourself up to date on the events happening in blue lock. Since when did your silly boy get so… egotistical? It was concerningly endearing.

Finally, you received news that you would be moving back to Japan, back into your old house, by yourself, to pursue your studies in psychology and you desperately hoped that he hadn’t moved in that time. The Blue lock program had ended a year ago, and he might have been selected for a team somewhere across the world.

Your fears dissolved into confusion then disbelief as you were met with the sight of the same boy waiting for you at the airport, with a stupid grin on his face, which was doing nothing to hide how obviously he was trying not to cry like the way you used to tease him about.

The second he laid his eyes on you he broke into a sprint, crashing into you as you tumbled over the luggage, putting your arms around him and spinning him around, bursting into laughter as his feet dragged around behind him. He had annoyingly gotten taller.

The two of you had somehow managed to get to his car before you gently pushed him against the door, crashing your lips onto his as he slid down against the door, lowering himself to your height.

Like I said, height doesn’t matter in your relationship. He’s more than eager to kneel to you. You’re the boyfriend.

***

Next up- the boys who think that since they’re taller, they’re the man in the relationship. They get put in their place 🪭. I’ll post it by next week. Probably.

[zippyskyfalls]

"Alright, my brothers, listen closely..."

Weeks of planning, all leading to this. Penelope had to admit, this was her smartest plan yet.

Who would have thunk a wooden horse could fit over 600 men?

"Tonight we make the Trojans pay..."

Helen of Sparta, Penelope's cousin, was kidnapped years ago. A series of Devine events leading up to this moment. So many lives lost because of that single catastrophic event.

"Ten years of war, they killed us slowly. But now we'll be the ones who slay..."

No Trojan would be spared this night, all that will be left is ruins that historians will one day theorize if these events really even happened.

Penelope faced her soldiers, her helmet off in a moment of transparency. She should be open with her men, the ones she will lead.

"Think of your wives and your children. Your families wonder where you've been. " Penelope didn't have a wife, of course. Her husband was back home with her only son.

"They're growing old, and yet you're still here." The soldier put on her helmet, the symbol of her patron goddess engraved on the front.

A dove.

"Do what I say and you'll see them again.'

"Yes, mam."

They were all counting on her. She pointed her sword at specific soldiers, assigning each a job they must complete so the plan is perfect.

She plans for every fight, after all.

"Diomedes will lead the charge"

"Agamemnon will flay the guards."

"Menaleus will let our mates through the gates and take the whole city at large."

So many lives will be lost.

"Trucer will shoot any any ambush attack, and little Ajax will stay back."

But that was a sacrifice she was willing to make.

"Nestor, secure Helen and protect her. Neo, avenge your father, kill the brothers of Hector."

"Yes, mam!"

The men put on their helmets, bowing at her commands. They were all counting on Penelope's plan to be a success.

"Find that inner strength now, use that well of pride. Fight through every pain now, ask yourself inside!"

Penelope wandered to the back of the horse, staring back at her men as she touched the door entrance.

There were some questions that had to be answered before Troy was invaded.

"What do you live for? What do you try for? What do you wish for? What do you fight for?"

As the soldiers repeated the chorus, reminding themselves of their loved ones, Penelope leaned her head on the door and remembered her own.

"Odysseus..." her husband. The one who'd created the agreement that no war would break out when Helen chose her own husband.

He was meant to go to war instead of her, but Penelope managed to go in his place. There was a lot of arguing when the decision was made, but Penelope easily won her husband over.

"And Telemachus..." her son. He was only about 9 months old when she left to fight for her cousin's freedom. He's about 10 years old now, he must look exactly like his father.

"I fight for us... I fight for us..."

She knew what she lived for.

"Odysseus..."

She knew who she tried for.

"Telemachus."

She knew what she wished for.

Home.

"I'm on my way..."

She cut the door open, the quick motion of her sword cutting it as if it were butter.

"Attack!"

Red. So much red.

The clanking of swords so loud it could be heard across all of Greece. Penelope ran into the battlefield, spotting exactly who she wanted to see

Ctimene.

Her sword hit a Trojan soldier as he attempted to ambush and murder her sister in law.

Ctimene was the sister of Odysseus, they'd met many years ago. She'd snuck in at the middle of the night of her husband, Eurylochus' departure.

At the end of the first night, Ctimene managed to capture her husband and forcefully bring him back to a ship back to Same-- her kingdom.

Penelope spotted a dark figure, one whose face was impossible to spot. He ran towards her, nobody else managing to see the terrifying figure in front of her, and took a stab at Penelope's chest. Causing the queen to let out a scream of hurt.

But she was still alive.

All the was left was smoke.

"...what was that?"

In front of her, a man appeared. It wasn't the same one, he reeked of Devine judgement. His eyes yellow and his beard cloudy.

Zeus. The king of the gods.

"A vision of what is to come. Cannot be outrun, can only be dealt with right here and now."

He led Penelope to Troy's Palace, to which she climbed to the third story from the walls, her armor clanking down in pain.

She finally stood up in balance, her feet on the ground in the hallway of the large castle as she began to enquire. "Tell me how..."

"I don't think you're ready..."

How wasn't she ready? Could the king of the gods not see the massacre outside she had planned?

He lead her across the hallway, his eyes glowing of divinity.

"A mission... to kill someone's son. A foe who won't run, unlike anyone you have faced before..."

Penelope nodded, grabbing the handle of the door in front of her at the edge of the hallway.

"Say no more, I know what I'm ready."

"I don't think you're ready..."

She opened the door, her sword ready to strike when--

...she heard a laugh. Not a deep, sinister laugh like you'd expect. This was a child's laugh.

She walked around the room till she spotted a small cradle, inside was...

"It's just an infant.... it's just a boy."

How could Zeus, king of the gods, ask her to murder this child who's life was still ahead of him?

She faced the sky God, her eyes filled with shock and confusion.

"What sort of immanent threat does he pose that I cannot avoid?"

The room began shifting, his face reforming to show someone else's

"This is the son of none other than Troy's very own prince Hector"

Hector... this boy was Hector's son?

"Know that he will grow from a boy to an avenger"

The whole room shifted, Penelope - an older, wiser one - sat tired on a throne. The same figure that tried to stab her moments ago was in front of her, sword gripped tightly in his hand.

"One fueled with rage as you're consumed by age."

"If you don't end him now, you'll have no one left to save."

Zeus' face shifted once again, his body now the same as her husband's

"You can say goodbye to..."

The soldier felt her heart skip a beat, no. It couldn't.

"Odysseus..."

"You can say goodbye to--"

Odysseus.

She was back in the infants room, she slowly took the child, her face dark as she cradled him and looked up at the god. There had to be something she could do...

"I could raise him as my own!"

"He will burn your house and throne..."

No. Another way.

"Or send him far away from home!"

"He'll find you wherever you go."

She stared at the infant whom she held, a small smile on his face as he grabbed her pinkie finger.

"Make sure his past is never known..."

"The gods will make him know."

Penelope kneeled to the God, tears running down her face. Could she bring herself to do this? To kill an infant and deprive another mother of his first steps? His first laugh? His first words?

"I'm on my knees for ya, down on my knees for ya! I'm begging ple--"

"This is the will of the gods."

She stared at the small child, standing up as she forced herself to look at the God one last time.

"Please, don't make me do this! Don't make me do this!"

"The blood on your hands is something you won't lose..."

He brought an illusion of her Husband, next to him was a young boy, about ten or so. His face changing between different mixes of Penelope and Odysseus' faces.

Telemachus. And the one thing that was consistent was he had her eyes.

"All you can choose is whose..."

°•☆______________________☆•°

HELLO!!! Thank you for reading the Warrior of The Heart AU's version of The Horse and The Infant.

You may be wondering what the AU is!

Well, we follow Penelope of Sparta, who took her husband's place and managed to go to war. The name of the fanfic is thanks to her Mentor: Aphrodite (specifically Aphrodite Areia)

In my original drafts, Hera was originally replacing Zeus, but I didn't want this to feel like a "we have Warrior!Penelope at Home" AU.

Our role swaps are

Odysseus - Penelope

Athena - Aphrodite (Areia)

Eurylochus - Ctimene

Polites - Helen of Sparta (I'm so sorry...)

Poseidon - Amphitrite

I'd like to appreciate a few people!

Thank you, @protagaster Aka Aster, for making my favorite version of the Warrior!Penelope AU. You're an amazing friend and have always supported my projects, and I will continue to do the same for you!

Thank you, @somereaderinblue Aka Blue for being such an awesome person! You've helped me improve my writing so much and I'm so lucky to be your friend. (I also gotta thank you for helping improve/Analyse my designs I had made for the original WOTH designs I'd made!)

Thanks @literallylink--who-tf-is-ravioli for being the chaotic push I needed to make this

I hope you enjoyed this!

[i-am-a-bad-influence-writes]

P*rn ☆  Chapter 1, a familiar stranger

Masterlist Word count: 1.2 k Sylus x Fem!Reader

Summary: You have been following a spicy content creator by the name of Red Crow for some time now. Nothing could’ve prepared you for what would happen when he moves into the apartment next door.

Warning! This story is meant for mature audiences. It contains sex, swear words, porn, smoking, intimate piercings, mentions of drugs, and other mature themes. Do not engage if you are under 18.

Mature content under the cut. No graphic content yet.

∘₊✧───────────────────────────────────────✧₊∘ 

'Did Rafayel find someone to rent my apartment yet,' Zayne questions as he puts two mugs of tea on your coffee table. You shrug in response. 

'Haven't heard anything yet, but knowing him, it'll probably be soon.' Zayne smiles at your sulking expression. He reaches out to ruffle a hand through your hair. You quickly smack his hand away and stare at him with pretend anger. 

'How have you been holding up without me?' That question is loaded, and he knows it. For the past four years, he has been your neighbor. But he has always been much more than that. 

When he noticed you were living on your own, he would sometimes bring over leftovers. Some days you would come home to a note taped on your door with a request to be quiet because he had a long shift and another even longer shift coming up. You started doing the same, but with notices if you had someone over or were doing something that could cause noise. Eventually, you two got to talking and formed a familial relationship. It always felt like you had a big brother looking out for you. 

Ever since he moved to the next city over to work in another hospital, you have missed him tons. Sometimes it hurts when you realize you can't just walk two steps from your front door and be talking to him. Meeting up is even more strenuous than it was before, and you miss him like crazy. It's not just the proximity though, no, it's also that you don't know everything going on in his life anymore. He's doing amazing things, meeting amazing people, helping to make the world a better place, and you barely know the names of his closest colleagues. 

'I'm fine,' but your voice betrays you, trembling throughout your words. Zayne's eyes look worried, and his hand moves to touch your shoulder to comfort you. 'I'm fine, really. Just getting used to being alone in the city again.' 

'You're not alone anymore. You've got Tara, and you get along alright with that new colleague of yours, right? Jeremiah?' 

'I know, it's just...' He reaches out to pull you into his chest. 

'I understand. I miss you too.' 

'I just hope the next person is nice too,' you mumble against his shirt while he gently rubs your back. All this feels so normal, so nice. You're not sure if you'll ever fully get over not living next to Zayne anymore. It was perfect, and now it's gone. You can't blame him though. This was a very important step for his career and you're glad he did it, it just makes you feel like you're stuck in the same place all over again.  

Everything just feels so stagnant, so normal. Like nothing ever changes. You can only tell that time has passed by your growing fingernails and the dust building up on your windowsill... You should really clean. It's been too long. 

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'This is nice,' Luke awes as he walks into Sylus’ new apartment. The place is completely empty and there's a bit of an echo, but he's right. The place is nice. That doesn't mean Sylus has to be happy about it. In fact, he's not even close to being done groaning and whining about being doxed for the third time. 

Sylus grumbles: 'My last place was nice.' Kieran nudges him over the threshold of the apartment. 

'Stop whining you big baby. Shit happens.' Sylus turns to him with a death glare. Kieran rolls his eyes and holds up his hands in defeat. 'Sorry man. There really isn't much else to say about it.' 

Sylus knows damn well that he's right, he's just not ready to admit it. That last place was a little bit special to him. It was the first place he moved into on his own after a long relationship. He knew his job would always be an obstacle in any relationship, but he thought she had gotten over it. She clearly hadn't.  

When his popularity skyrocketed, she left him. Told him she couldn't keep sharing him, no matter how many times he told her there was no one to share him with. She was part of the reason he started doing solo stuff. He even offered her to stop doing it. It wasn't even a big deal to him. That didn't matter to her. 

Luke and Kieran tried to get him back to who he was, yet even they couldn't ignore the fact that he became a little different. He distanced himself, became harsher, became colder. He wasn't particularly rude or anything, just a bit off-putting if you don't know him. 

'Anyway, I'm going to let your neighbor know we're moving you in this week,' Kieran states and quickly leaves the apartment. Luke gives Sylus a look. 

'What,' Sylus snaps at him. 

'Shouldn't you join him?' Sylus raises an eyebrow and crosses his arms. Suddenly, he looks a lot bigger and a lot more intimidating. 

'I just got doxed. Why would I go around introducing myself to everyone?' 

Luke just shrugs. Sylus antics don't do much to him anymore after knowing him so long. 'Fair enough.' 

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The doorbell buzzes. It's ever so slightly longer than the average person would press a doorbell, and so ever so slightly more annoying. Mayorly more annoying because you were just dozing off cuddled up to Zayne on the couch. It has been a long time since that happened. 

You groan and shift, but Zayne tightens his grip. 'Don't go.' His voice is gravelly, tired, a little strained. For a little while you're considering it, but then the bell buzzes a second time. Longer this time. 

'It's just for a second,' you whisper back. He nods and his grip loosens. You get off his chest and quickly shuffle to the front door. When you open it, you have to take a few seconds to digest the picture in front of you. 'Kieran? Why are you here? Does Tara need something?' 

It seems his head short-circuits just like yours has as he takes a few seconds to answer. 'Eh, no. I didn't know you live here. I'm just... I'm helping a friend move in. I'm doing a round to warn people about the noise.' 

'Oh, good to know. Thank you. Who's your friend?' 

'His name is Sylus but he's a pretty private person, so I can't promise you he'll stop by to introduce himself.' 

'Fair enough,' you respond while you think back to how Zayne used to be. It was a similar situation. Took more than half a year before you two would even greet each other when passing in the hallway. 'Well, give Tara my best. I'll probably see you soon.' 

'I will. See ya.' 

'Who was that,' Zayne asks from the couch. 

'Friend of the new neighbor. He's moving in this week.' You grab your phone from the coffee table to check if Rafayel send anything about a new tenant, instead you see a notification from Red Crow's socials. A new post. 

"No smutty chapter this Friday. I have a busy week.   Maybe if you beg, I'll record myself getting off." 

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