#they match so well with what I have in my head for them!
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willowed-wisp · 3 days ago
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NSFW ALPHABET [ simon ‘ghost’ riley]
Just my opinion based on how Simon comes across in the games. It was quite fun to interpret it. Hope I didn’t do too bad of a job 🤞
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)
Ghost would be more closed off to a one night stand, so it’s lucky if you even get his name let alone for him to stay after the sex.
As for in a relationship, he cares so deeply that if he’s jackhammered you he’ll find himself gently massaging your sore pussy- you did take him ‘so well’ after all (his words)
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
He used to hate his arms, all the scars he had endured but he paid good, well earned money on his sleeve tattoos. And with encouragement from his partner- he likes them.
As for you, your face. He rarely gets to see all of his own, so seeing your face in any sense is a blessing. For intimacy it’s a luxury to see your brows screw up and lips parted. He knows you don’t have the same benefit of seeing his ALL the time.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)
He likes the idea of claiming you by coming inside but the idea of children in a world like this… it scares him. Even if you’re on birth control… too much of a risk.
Simon loves seeing you on your knees, lips pink and raw after finishing down your throat. And you better be swallowing- he doesn’t like tryna get stains out of the bedsheets.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)
Wants to fuck you in close quarters to the rest of 141, and use his balaclava as a gag to shut you up.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)
Simon is said to be in his earlier to mid-30s and doesn’t have as much experience as the others but you’ve never complained about his skill before. He’s a quick learner.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)
ADVANCED MISSIONARY; As said before, he loves your face. So something front facing but spicier than missionary- legs on his shoulders… laid flat on the edge of the kitchen table with him stood ploughing into you.
AGAINST THE WALL: Simon loves knowing it’s all him giving you pleasure- you clung to him for dear life. Nails cutting into him and limp from the waist down, he’s not shy when it comes to pain… not that kind anyway.
DOGGY: The only exception to him not facing you is when you’ve been teasing him all day long. He loves the roughness and how much of you he can feel at that angle. Intoxicating.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)
Simon goes Ghost mode during sex. It’s a scale of kinda serious to don’t talk kind of serious. Depends on how long he’s gone without it. If he’s on leave and it’s on the couch during movie night and you clash teeth- he’s so serious about it but when you start laughing, his eyes go puppy dog and he joins you in hysterics.
He can be very goofy so he has that side when his guard is down.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)
He likes to keep in tidy down there, not completely shaven but nothing to stop you from giving him sloppy head.
He has light eyelashes but the hair is so short you can barely see the true colour - a blondish brown colour.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)
Like most things with Simon, he truly depends on what mood you catch him in. He’s a chill guy, he’s the type to get you gifts without making a big deal about it.
He just wants your sole undivided attention, that’s romance in his eyes. Having a connection with you, spending time with you. So he’s kissing up your body, and eating you out like there’s no tomorrow without expecting you to return the favour.
Simon is all about eye contact, kissing and making you feel special in the moment. So I guess you could call him a pinch romantic.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)
Being away from you is a death sentence, but the mission is work. That doesn’t mean LT doesn’t jack off, to images of you riding him or panting beneath him, when he’s in the shower.
Off duty he has you, he doesn’t need to jack off.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)
BONDAGE: Hands behind your back, tied with his belt. Or he doesn’t mind, he knows how to break out of ties anyway.
VOYEURISM: Loves watching you masturbate, revels in it because he knows he’ll have you coming on his cock in the next few minutes.
DOMINANCE: Not in an unhealthy way, he’s a BIG guy (and he uses it to his advantage). Caging you in and hitching you up at his waist, repeating the words, “Who do you belong to?” “Who makes you feel so good?”
And the answer every single time is ‘you, Si.’
L = Location (favorite places to do the do)
Nowhere public, there’s a reason he wears a mask in public let alone being caught with his dick out.
His favourite may be a wall, especially if Soap is staying in the guest room… because the master bedroom is beside it. Ghost is territorial like that, you’re his.
The bed is too comfortable for him when he’s initially back. Simon will hold your hips and watch you bounce on his dick while his back is on the fluffy carpet. Carpet burns were worth it.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)
Kissing his tattoos- man this guy gets pent up when you do that. All the way up his arm, through to his chest. Do this and you will find his trousers tented and tight.
Ghost is very susceptible to touch, he spends so much time trying not to get hit by stray bullets or by fists that when he lets his guard down- he really gets turned on by crotch palming or kissing. Makeout sessions quickly become a night long sex fest.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)
Hates being blindfolded, absolutely despises it. Even when relaxed it’s difficult for Ghost to just be Simon. He likes being able to see you, his PTSD comes in play there.
Also, another no no, is you wearing a skull mask or himself wearing it in the bedroom. When he’s at home, he doesn’t even want to remember what happened in the field. Let alone bring it into the most vulnerable position he’s gonna be in. He may even draw the line at face coverings in general.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)
As said before, he couldn’t care less if he receives. Only that he makes you cum at least once.
Don’t mistake that for him not liking blowjobs, he loves it- again, a touch thing but he would rather watching you come undone.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)
Like a lot of things with Simon, it depends on his mood and it you can handle it at the time.
Simon is a kinda soft dom because he cares about his significant other and doesn’t want to hurt you but if you can take it… you’d better find something to hold onto. Legs and abdominal muscles galore- he is a tyrant if you wish it.
But he doesn’t need to do that ALL the time, he can do soft and gentle just as well. Deep, powerful thrusts… letting you adjust after a couple of rounds.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)
If you’ve been teasing him, he will pull you into a restroom and have you drooling and seeing stars.
He prefers to have his time with you, to get you well adjusted for his size by fingering and then eating you out. Dragging out orgasm after orgasm to get you to relax.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)
He doesn’t normally like fucking in public, but as said before- if you touch him in the right places and tell him how hot you are for him… let’s say he will find a dressing room or bathroom stall (within reason) to stop his hardness.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)
Have you seen this man? 6’5” and muscles for days… Simon has a LOT of stamina.
The first week he gets home you’re lucky when he’s not inside of you. He can go multiple times a day for an average of two hour sessions. He likes to take his time with you.
Quickies wise about 6 rounds in a row.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)
Simon’s not a fan of toys. Doesn’t own any and doesn’t plan on buying. He’s sure in his abilities and when you a moaning mess impaled on his cock- he’d say you’re quite satisfied.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)
Edges you from time to time and make you beg for some release. But that’s only when he’s in one of his sarcastic moods- mostly after he’s hung out with Soap.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)
Not obnoxiously loud, but not quiet. His voices get a bit higher or goes lower when he says your name. Holding your hair while you’re on your knees, choking on his cock. It’s kind of addictive.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)
Your smell. Purposefully buries his nose in the crux of your shoulder in general. Especially when so close to his release- you’ve been squeezing his size continuously for the past five minutes and the scent of you, not your perfume or shampoo, can toss him off that cliff.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)
Above average at about 7.5 inches, but thick. No wonder he indulges in extensive foreplay before fucking you. He’s the perfect size, nothing too extreme but hits the correct spots.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)
He’s touch starved on missions and doesn’t fancy asking the boys for that, so he’s pretty horny. You don’t help dressing all pretty in white lingerie the day he gets back.
On a scale of 0-10, Simon is an 8-10.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Simon finds it difficult to sleep in general, only after a day’s fuck fest is he worn out enough to sleep soundly. Next to his partner.
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porcalinecunt · 2 days ago
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Omg I love ur works!!! Please post more stuff with Oliver and kaiser
𝐉𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐘!
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🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩 oliver & kaiser catching you masterbating in their jerseys! <3
⋆˚࿔ FEATURING . . 𝜗𝜚˚⋆ OLIVER AIKU & MICHEAL KAISER X GN! READER
° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . cw — afab!reader. fingering. doggy style. rough sex. hair pulling. creampie. cockdrunk! reader. a fuckton of ego stroking.
[・:。author’s note ! 「 ✉️ 」・𓂃 ࣪˖ ] oh boy, so this one was rotting in my inbox..but im finally back despite seasonal depression kicking my ass! (send help) i hope this was worth the wait charkvc </3 enjoy!
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𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐀𝐈𝐊𝐔 !
ᥫ᭡. — ugh, this man..
ᥫ᭡. — his ego is already inflated to the max by the time his match ends in victory, so seeing you fingering your needy cunt in his jersey? you shouldn’t have been shocked when he pounced onto you.
ᥫ᭡. — this man didn’t even let you speak. no “hey babe!” or “i missed you!”, NAH. his tongue was halfway down your throat and his hands were fumbling the band of your shorts. no way he was gonna let his slutty partner have all the fun when the both of you knew damn well he’d do you so much better then your stupid fingers. in fact, why not his fingers?
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° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . where were you again? ah right, lying on your side as your boyfriend finger fucks you until veins carved into his forearm. his neglected yet ragingly hard cock poking against your thigh as he was too busy watching your face twist and contort in pleasure.
“aah—not too rough oliver..” you sighed while he clearly ignored what you said, rather latching his mouth onto any patch of unmarked skin.
“nah baby, can’t get off in my jersey and expect me to do nothing..” oliver chuckled, and was unfortunately right. the sight of you masterbating shamlessly in his oversized and sweaty jersey stroked his already massive ego, his pretty little partner fingering their cunt as his match played on live television was practically an invitation to him.
“c’mon..cum all over my fingers, you love me don’t you baby?” his tone switched into a faux sweetness that he doesn’t try to hide in, yet you couldn’t help but start kicking your feet and whine like a bitch in heat. you could beg through weak little humps and you’re shaking thighs as he pumps his fingers faster. a shit eating grin formed on his face.
“you’re so cute—fuck, i missed you so much babe.”
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𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐊𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐄𝐑 !
ᥫ᭡. — him seeing you get yourself off in a jersey is the same as stroking his dick in blind worship, if only you didn’t spoil it by acting so stupid when he caught you.
ᥫ᭡. — no amount of babbling will ever save you from this horny bastard as he immediately went to work on your pretty self. flipping you onto your stomach as he shimmies whatever bottoms you had on while you attempted to wriggle out of his grip. kaiser doesn’t take any more of your attempts, oh no no no! instead, opting to grab a fistfull of your hair and wring your neck like he’s tugging on a dog leash.
ᥫ᭡. — kaiser would stare down at the huge ‘10’ on your back as he fucks you doggy style while you can’t even moan thanks to how hard he was tugging. a testament on why you should never even try to touch yourself when you’re boyfie isn’t home to take care of you! <3
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kaiser is so much meaner, more greedy. so much so, you couldn’t even greet him when he busted through the bedroom door and caught you red handed. pathetically humping a pillow in his jersey while imagining his cock nestled in you.
you certainly got your wish. on all fours while kaiser fucks himself into your poor pussy as he used your hair as a leash. his knuckles are near white with his iron grip on your scalp, his eyes glued onto your bruised ass from how hard his hips slam against them.
“fuck—‘m gonna cum already..right inside you, sounds good love?” kaiser groaned with his smile practically heard as your head was forced high up while you babbled incoherent nonsense.
“m’ gonna take that as a yes.”
you mewled almost in defeat as his dick began to twitch, grunts and groans filled the room while you remained silent with your jaw agape from his harsh thrusts. the smell of sex and his jersey melts your senses until you were completely cock drunk and falling apart on your boyfriend’s girth. you didn’t even notice he was already cumming inside you until he flipped you onto your back, wet dick in hand and on your clit.
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© porcalinecunt 🪽ᯓᡣ𐭩ྀི do not steal, translate, or use my work and claim as your own.
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imtherain · 2 days ago
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Smeared Lipstick
Still on my Logan nonsense (thank god) and had a round of Patch!Logan feels. I know nothing about him other than what I saw in Deadpool and Wolverine, so sorry if I messed him up somehow.
This is for @likedovesinthewnd because she's the one who told me I should write it lol
Also shout out to @bpmiranda for posting the best/nastiest smut fics that inspired me to go ham and not hold back for once. If you need some more Logan, read mine first but she's got a lot more!
Warnings: Casino, basically pure smut with only a sprinkle of plot, oral (male receiving), some light conartistry, mutant reader, bathroom smut, fingering (both receiving because I'm a feminist lol), sugar daddy but only kinda, Patch!Logan, a touch of 'getting caught', and probably some other stuff. Let me know if I missed anything important.
Word Count: 3473 (don't look at me)
[More Logan]
[Main Master List]
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“Hit me,” 
The dealer passed Logan another card and he concealed his joy easily. He’d hit 20 for the third time at this table. Lady Luck always on his side.
“You win again, sir,” The dealer said, pushing the new stack chips across the table to him.
“I’m afraid it’s time we close this table, sir,” Your voice always soothed something in him. You’d been working at this particular casino for a few months, and so, Logan always found himself at your tables. No one suspected the truth of why you both were there.
“Pity, I was doing so well,” Logan looked up at you with his one good eye, drinking in the way your glittery red dress hugged every single one of your edges just right. How your hair was done up with sparkly bits to match the shine on your dress. How your lipstick was the exact shade of red as your dress.
You looked good enough to eat, if he were being honest.
“I’m sure I can find you somewhere else to play,” You smile, half customer service, half something naughty.  Logan put the cigar he’d been chewing on away into his pocket. He had a feeling he’d find himself with something better to put in his mouth shortly.
“Lead the way, sweetheart,” Logan stood, leaving his chips all on the table. “Cash those into my account,” This was directed at the dealer who was just cleaning up his station.
“Please, Mr. Locken,” You urged the dealer. He was a clever young man, one of your best dealers. He’d caught three different cheaters in his time at the casino, and you were impressed that he was so good at catching them. Even the team upstairs, who’s entire job it was to catch cheating, had missed one of the three Locken had spotted.
“Of course, Miss Y/N,” Locken replied, gathering Logan’s chips.
“Thank you,” You said, taking Logan’s arm and leading him away. 
Logan had been staring at the skin exposed that showed over the slinky material of your dress. You knew poor Locken likely knew exactly what you and Mr. Logan were about to get up to. Locken didn’t really want to know, but it wasn’t exactly a secret that you and Mr. Logan, the high roller with an eye patch, were an item. Most of the staff knew, and the rest likely suspected.
But Mr. Logan, being a high roller, got away with all kinds of things. Fucking the floor manager was hardly a big deal or a surprise at that point.
“And where are you taking me, Miss Y/N,” Logan mocked Locken’s tone and you smacked his chest with one hand. “As I recall, there aren’t any tables this way, and the hotel is the other direction too,” 
“I was thinking you needed a little more luck,” You told him. “I heard that another big fish was headed in to drop some cash, and he’s luckier than most who walk through the door.” There was something about you that no one in the building, other than Logan, knew about you… and that was that you were a mutant who could control a person’s luck. You could also see how lucky someone was, just by touching them. It came in all kinds of handy working in a casino, and extra handy where Logan was involved. The two of you having a sort of arrangement in regards to luck.
“What did you have in mind for me?” Logan mused as you led him down another hallway and into a single stall bathroom. It was one of the large single stall bathrooms, where several people could use the two sinks and spacious counter during a wedding or other event, usually to get ready. This particular bathroom was out of the way of the main space though, less likely to get interrupted.
“Lock the door,” You told him with a saucy smirk. 
You and Logan had met originally in a different casino, and he’d figured out that his string of bad luck had been tied to you. He thought, originally, that it was because he’d gotten so distracted by you that he’d lost his edge. You knew it was because you’d turned all his luck to bad and all your own luck to good, hoping to clean house well enough to eat for the next month.
“Yes, ma’am,” Logan turned to lock the door and when he turned back, you were sitting on the counter, skirt hiked up to your knees. Logan took a deep breath through his nose that quickly dissolved into a growl of pleasure as he smelled your arousal. “Never will get over how good you smell, honey,” He stepped between your thighs and tipped your chin up so that you were looking at him.
“Only for you baby,” You purred back, leaning up so your breath brushed his lips sensually.
“No kissing,” Logan reminded you, and you pouted, but you knew the deal. After he’d found you out as a mutant, you’d both struck a deal. You would give him better luck, and he'd take good care of you, effectively becoming your sugar daddy. Only, if you called him ‘daddy’ he’d bend you over his knee, so you saved that for special occasions. 
“Please?” You begged, knowing that was the only line left in the sand between you. You’d done everything else, had sex in every direction you could think of. But no kissing. Never kissing.
You didn’t like it, but it was easy enough to complain around.
“You know the rules,” Logan growled softly. He ran his tongue along the exposed skin at your throat and you moaned. He chuckled, feeling your vibrations against his tongue.
“Rules are made to be broken, I thought?” You pressed as he stepped forward to bump the hardness in his pants against you. Your hips moved against him as if there was ever any question to what was going on between you.
“I can walk away,” Logan warned and you whined, but nodded to tell him you’d stop asking. “Good girl,” 
“Wait,” You said, suddenly having a sordid idea. Logan rocked backwards on his heel far enough to peer questioningly into your face. “Let me take care of you this time,” 
“You wanna take care of me?” Logan asked skeptically. You reached down to palm him through his slacks. His eye fluttered closed at the contact and he had to brace himself on the counter on either side of you.
“Please, baby? Since you won’t let me kiss you, at least let me taste you?” You batted your eyelashes at him and he knew he was a sucker for giving in to you anytime you did that. Hell, he’d kill a man no questions asked, if you batted your lashes at him.
“Get to it then,” He moved back only far enough to let you slide off the counter and to your knees. You made short work of undoing his belt and pants. You pulled his slacks and boxers down just far enough to allow his cock to spring free. He was already rock hard and leaking for you when you cooed happily and kitten licked the warm tip of him.
He had to grip the counter again to remain in control of himself. You smirked as you did it again, tasting the salty tang of his precum before you wrapped your lips around just the head of his cock.
“Fuck,” Logan grunted, trying his best not to slam his dick straight down your throat. He knew you could take it, but he wanted to let you get there on your own.
“Want me to stop?” You pause only long enough to ask before you licked a long stripe up the underside of him, tracing the thick vein there from balls to tip.
“Don’t you dare,” Logan pants, cursing again when you go back to the small licks along the very tip of his cock. You always seemed to know exactly how to drive him out of his mind. Maybe that was why he’d give you anything you wanted. Diamonds, jewelry, gold, silver, hotel rooms, a car if you asked for it… He’d give you anything his money could buy. 
Anything but the heart he was pretty sure you weren’t even aware you’d already stolen.
You pressed a small kiss to his angry red tip before sticking out your tongue and sliding him into the warmth of your mouth.
Logan cursed again, his hips bucking once before he could stop himself. You adjusted your knees on the hard tile floor, loosened your jaw, and slid your hands lovingly around his thighs.
With your eyes fluttering softly and the end of his dick in your mouth, Logan was surprised he didn’t cum right there on your tongue.
You looked up at him and gave a slight nod, telling him you were ready for him to take control if he wanted it. Logan felt his heart rate spike as the animal in him begged to claim you. If he wasn’t careful he’d bury his fist in your hair and throat fuck you until you couldn’t speak. But he’d promised to be careful when you were at work, because you needed to look nice for the casino.
When Logan didn’t immediately take over, you leaned forward, taking more and more of him into your mouth, slowly, until he just barely touched the back of your throat. Your throat constricted on a gag and the feeling of your throat closing was all it took for the animal inside him to break free.
Logan’s strong hand cradled the back of your head, trying to avoid pulling out the glittery baubles you’d put there this morning before he’d driven you to work. You leaned back into his palm, trying to ease the sensation in your throat, and you got relief for about two beats before that same careful hand pulled you back along him until your nose was pressed flush with the rough hair at his base.
You knew it was his turn to have his fun now, and you couldn’t help but grin for a moment before you remembered how hard it was to breathe around the girth of his cock.
Your nails dug into the meat of his thighs as you focused on breathing while he jerked his hips. The drag of his cock along your tongue made heat pool in your stomach as he abused your throat over and over again.
Meanwhile, Logan was making the most guttural noises while he used your throat. His grunting and groaning echoing in the empty bathroom, occasionally punctuated by a soft curse or two when your throat squeezed him just right. All paired with the wet sound of his cock sliding in and out of your throat.
But as much as you’d love to let him stay there in your mouth until he came, you needed a break. You reached up and tapped on his stomach, your agreed sign that you needed air. 
Instantly, Logan pulled back and caught your eyes with his one good one.
“You alright?” He asked and you nodded with a slight cough.
“Just needed to catch my breath,” You admitted. “I’m out of practice,” 
“I know one way to fix that,” Logan said with a cheeky grin.
“Give me five more seconds,” You said, adjusting on your knees again. You took a second to pull his slacks down to his knees. You lean in and give some attention to each of his beefy thighs, kissing the strong muscles and nibbling the soft flesh.
“Don’t tease me,” Logan grumbled, his hand coming back to your head. “Finish what you started,” 
“Yes, sir,” You batted your lashes up at him and his cock twitched next to your face. You took another moment to lick the side of him, rubbing his length against your face, showcasing just how long he was compared to your head. It was a wonder you could fit him all down your throat.
You kissed the side of his dick a few times, preparing you both for another round, and with one last kitten lick to his slit, his dick slid back into your throat.
The second time was always easier for you, and you’re always happy to help when it means he would let out those grunting noises you love so much.
And you knew exactly what would make him whine for you too.
You slid your hands up and around the back of his thighs until you could grip both of his taught buttcheeks in your hand. This distracted him enough from his movements that you were able to swallow around his tip and make him groan again. You bobbed your head as you kneaded his flesh and he got lost in the sensation the exact same way you did when he was face down between your legs. And just like he always did, you carefully slid a finger into his waiting hole.
The noise Logan makes is something you wished you could bottle up for a rainy day. It’s somewhere near a whine and too gravelly to be a whimper. You withdraw only long enough to add some moisture to your digits before working yourself back into him, stroking at that spot deep inside that makes his thighs tense and his knees shake.
Having discovered how stroking him like this made him feel, you understood why he liked to finger-fuck you so much. Making him experience such pleasure, pleasure that only you have brought him? Heaven. Heaven on earth, about to cum down your throat.
Logan never lasted long with your fingers in his ass.
You hold your breath while he comes undone in your mouth, bucking his hips against the swirling of your tongue. You try to swallow it all, but it’s difficult when he’s moving still, so you just hold on until he’s pumped every last drop into your mouth.
Before he can be overstimulated too much, he pulls your hand away from him and slides himself from your soft mouth.
“Fuck, baby, thought you were going to suck me dry for a second there,” 
“I would if you’d let me,” You smiled up at him. He reached down and gently rubbed his thumb under your bottom lip, catching a drip of his cum that you hadn’t managed to swallow. At first you thought he’d press it into your mouth, but instead he brought it to his own and you felt your face flame with unexpected heat.
“Maybe next time sweetheart,” Logan helped you to your feet before adjusting himself and pulling up his slacks.
“Wait, you’ve got lipstick all over,” You tried to stop him from tucking himself away hoping you could clean him up properly, but he just chuckled and did up his pants.
“Something to remember you by,” He teased and you rolled your eyes before turning to the mirror to see the state of your own face. It was about what you’d figured but also you didn’t mind in the slightest.
Your red lipstick was smeared all across your cheek, your eyes were wet so your eyeshadow had mostly rubbed off, but luckily your eyeliner had stayed put. You wore super waterproof eyeliner for that reason after all. There was still some of the sticky release of Logan’s painted on your lips and tongue from where you’d failed to swallow it all.
“Look at that,” You mused. “You smeared my lipstick,” Logan chuckled at that, turning you around so that he could see.
“Seems so,” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a silk handkerchief. He gently took your chin and held you steady while he soiled the white silk with your red lipstick and the remains of his cum. After fucking your throat like that, you almost forgot he could be gentle too.
You liked it when he was gentle.
When Logan was satisfied with his work, he put his handkerchief back in his pocket and leaned down to kiss your cheek, you froze when you felt his lips at the edge of yours. Almost a kiss. 
But he knew better than that. 
You both did.
You whined softly for him, wanting more, but you also needed to get back to work.
“Turn around for me,” Logan said. You raised an eyebrow at him but did as he asked, gasping when he pressed himself against your ass.
“Logan,” You chided. “I need to head back,” 
“Just give me a minute to return the favor,” Logan was smirking at you over your shoulder as you watched him in the mirror. “I promise I won’t smear your lipstick this time,” You bit your lip at the thought of him getting you off here too.
“I really should be getting back,” You tried to say, but it was half hearted at best. He smacked your ass and you whimpered at him, terribly needy and terribly turned on.
“Spread your legs for me and lift your skirt,” He commanded against the shell of your ear. “Now,” You jumped at the authority in his voice and moved to do as he asked. You hoisted your skirt up to your hips and let your legs shift apart so that he had room to slide his knee between your thighs.
You gasped as he bounced his leg into your sensitive folds.
“I’ll repay you properly when we get home tonight, but until then,” He pressed a soft kiss to the side of your neck. “Let me make my baby feel good,” You could only nod as he reached down and slid his hand into your already soaked panties.
“Logan,” You moaned as his finger traced circles around your bud. “That feels so good,” 
“Good,” He nibbled on your earlobe. “Just relax,” 
You were about to give in entirely when the handle to the bathroom jiggled and it reminded you all at once that you were still at work.
“Fuck… Logan…” You tried to stop him, but he just dipped his fingers deeper and you mewled instead.
“Don’t worry about that, focus on me and what I’m doing,” Logan purred. The handle rattled again and this time you heard someone curse about the bathroom being occupied too long.
You jumped when the person outside banged on the door.
“Find another bathroom, bub!” Logan growled loudly as he kicked the door angrily in return. Another curse from outside the door and Logan slowed his movements until he couldn’t hear the person outside anymore. “Now where were we?”
You were gripping his arm, which was wrapped around your waist to keep you in place.
“I don’t even remember,” You admitted with a laugh, which shifted into a moan as he moved his fingers against you again and all at once you remembered. “Fuck,” You moaned.
“That’s it,” He sped up his fingers, watching your face in the mirror as your closed your eyes in pleasure. “Come on, baby, give it to me,” He grunted against your shoulder, his teeth teasing your skin.
It didn’t take much more for you to cum around his fingers, fluttering and shaking in his arms as he held you up.
“That’s it pretty girl, that’s it,” Logan purrs against your ear, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. “That’s my pretty girl,” 
You turned, wanting to kiss him, to thank him for this, but you remembered his rule, so instead you pressed your forehead into his jaw and whined at him.
“I really do need to get back to work,” You whisper. “And you need to go make enough money for that trip we’ve been talking about,” 
“Yes ma’am,” Logan chuckled in your ear as he finally pulled his fingers out of the tight embrace of your cunt. You groaned at the loss of him, but hummed in pleasure when you watched him lick his fingers clean. “Need me to carry you to your desk?” He teased.
“Oh shush,” You stood and adjusted yourself. “I was just enjoying the moment for a little longer,” 
“Could always play hooky and use your key to get us into a room upstairs,” Logan said, like he was nothing but serious. You shove him playfully.
“Yeah, and then I’ll get fired again,” You chided. “We’re going to run out of good casinos if we keep doing that,” 
“So?” He pressed his lips to your temple. “Maybe when we run out of casinos, I’ll make an honest woman out of you,” This makes you pause. Could he be serious? 
“Only once we’ve run out?” You asked, trying not to sound too hopeful. 
“And if we get married, I’ll have to kiss you, won’t I?” It sounded almost like a tease, but there was nothing but joy and mirth in his eye.
And maybe, just maybe, love was sparkling in there too.
[More Logan]
[Main Master List]
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cherrycranes · 3 days ago
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Real Cowgirls Ride (Emmett x Fem!Reader) [+18]
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Pairing: Emmett (A Quiet Place 2) x Fem!Reader Summary: When you go to a bar in upstate New York with your girlfriends for a bachelorette party, you encounter a hot rugged man who´ll teach you how to ride like a real cowgirl. Word count: 4,248 Contents: (Minors DNI). No apocalypse AU. Age gap (Reader is 24, Emmett is 39), Oral sex (fem receiving), a little bit of ass licking (fem receiving), fingering, P in v, protected sex! Author's notes: Once more, a collab with @fuckiingloser cause that's my wifey. Mandatory "english is not my first language" disclaimer. Enjoy the ass licker.
It was the first time you ever stepped a foot in this rural upstate New York town. Certainly an interesting choice for a bachelorette party, but your friend: the bride, and her future husband had grown up here. It was nice, though. A very appreciated change of scenery from your busy downtown New York City life. It had been a 3 hour drive to get here, and you planned to just have a good time.
The party had a cowgirl theme and you had gone all out: a borrowed pair of red cowgirl boots that you had never imagined wearing in your life, a pair of dangerously tiny Daisy Duke jean shorts and a white cropped t-shirt that said “Budweiser” across the front. All topped with a matching cowboy hat sitting on top of your head. Your girlfriends showered you with compliments, you played the part so well.
It was around 11:30 pm now, and after several stops of the bar crawl, you all walked into a smoky, dark dive bar. The neon signs gave the entire room a dull glow. It was moderately full, mostly with old blue collar men tired from a long day's work. Some of them gave your group a few stares that only your tipsy state managed to ignore. You had come here for fun, and that’s what you would have. 
You got a big table, ordered some drinks and shots and cheered for the bride, wishing her all the best with the love of her life. And, in secret, you hopelessly wished that you would find yours too… You were painfully single at 24 and your only one previous boyfriend had cheated on you after a year of dating. You were still young but loneliness stung.
To distract yourself, you ordered a few more shots and just went along with the vibe of the bar and your friends’ laughter. Some moments later, you wandered over to the old school jukebox that sat alone on a dark corner to flip through the endless pages of song options. Some you knew, some you didn’t, and one you picked before a rugged voice behind you interrupted you:
“Excuse me, miss...” You turned to look. “I just have to have a look at these fancy red cowgirl boots up close...” The man in front of you said with a charming little smirk and with his baby blue eyes looking down at your feet, then at your legs, your body and, eventually, meeting your eyes. 
You looked him over too, with his plain white t-shirt, blue wrangler jeans, dusty work boots, scruffy beard with a few silver strands in it and a ball cap with some brown curls peeking out underneath it. Quite handsome. His little excuse to come over and talk to you was pathetic but cute, it had made you smirk a little. And when you looked into his beautiful eyes and saw that pretty smile again, you decided to give him a shot.
“Honestly… My buddies over there were givin’ me a hard time and said that I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t say something to the pretty girl in the red cowboy boots...” He gestured over to his friends in the booth in the other corner who gave you a wave and smile. You turned back to look at him, and gave yourself the luxury of eyeing him up and down again. He was definitely older than you, but not exactly old enough to be your father. He must have been in his early 40’s at most. He was sort of rugged, most likely a blue collar man. Some tattoos poked out from under the sleeve of his t-shirt. He was not the type of guy you were used to encountering in New York City. “I'm Emmett..” He smirked, and you chuckled a bit at his words.
“Hate to break the news but I borrowed these from a friend… I’m not a real country girl.” You admitted with a smile. Emmett laughed softly and leaned against the almost forgotten jukebox.
 “Well… They look good on you either way… That’s for sure…” He looked over your body once more, shameless infatuation irradiating from him. His boldness made you smile again, and admittedly, it also turned you on. Like clockwork, the first notes of the song you picked started to play and Emmett gave you an approving smile.
“Good choice… You’ve got good taste obviously… Would you like to dance, beautiful?” He asked, his voice like velvet in your ears. You felt a sweet heat rush to your cheeks and you nodded.
“I'd like that.” You smiled and he took your hand with a gentleness that was to die for, pulling you closer and wrapping his strong arms around your waist. In return, you wrapped your arms around his neck and followed him along. Butterflies flew in your stomach like they hadn’t in so long when his arms tightened around you.
You chatted a little, dancing slowly in the middle of the dive bar with his rough hands rubbing the exposed skin of your back. In the background of the slow song, you could make out the voices and giggles of your friends who must have been staring in amusement and support. 
In between the small conversations and the dance, you found out Emmett owned a farm nearby. Mostly horses and some crops. You also found out he was 39 years old. Never married, currently single. Then it came time for questions about your life, your work, your age, where were you from…
“Ahh, so you’re a city girl, makes sense… Never seen someone as hot as you around here before...” Emmett whispered, still swaying with you and still holding you tight. You blushed, something not everybody did to you, but there was something about him. His looks, his charm, his rough hands. You couldn't help yourself.
Guided by that feeling, you kept talking. Now telling him about your failed relationship, your cheater ex-boyfriend and your 8 month-long singlehood. Emmett’s brow furrowed upon hearing that.
“Fuckin’ asshole… Who would ever wanna lose you? You need a real man… Not a little immature boy..” He whispered, shaking his head gently and tightening his tattooed arm around you ever so slightly, just for the butterflies in your stomach to go even wilder. 
Your song ended and the jukebox went silent. Emmett immediately asked to buy you a drink, and how would you even say no? Next thing you knew, you were sitting on a barstool with him standing in front of you, a hand on your thigh making you swoon. He leaned over to order, the scent of his almost worn-off cologne sending more heat towards the right places.
“Two miller lites please, thanks.. ” The bartender cracked open two beers and pushed them towards Emmett. He handed you one along with a sly smile, his other hand still on your thigh.
“Well… Cheers to a good night that I'm hoping gets even better.” Emmett held his drink up to yours and clicked them together with a nice melodic sound. 
“Cheers.” You chuckled, arousal pooling in your lower abdomen and burning steady for the entire time you and Emmett talked and flirted in between sips. Some guilt crept up on you at having practically abandoned your girlfriends, but every quick glance towards them made you find them winking and putting their thumbs up. So you focused back on Emmett, laughed at his jokes, touched his arm, gave him your best smile…
“Can’t believe a pretty girl like you is interested in an old man like me.” He rubbed his hand softly on your exposed thigh, and you couldn't help but let out a sincere chuckle.
“You're hotter than any guy I've met in the city by a million honestly… A real man who works with his hands and knows what he wants and isn’t shy about it…” Every word of yours was soaked in a sensual tone and your eyes never looked away from him now. He had the most beautiful pale blue eyes you had ever seen, his pupils were long dilated from looking at you, and they seemed to get even more when he heard you talking like that.
“Well, you sure know how to flatter a guy… I’ve gotta say you’re one of the sexiest things I've ever seen.” Emmett leaned in to whisper into your ear, his lips giving you a featherlight touch. “My hands aren’t the only thing I’m good with…” His warm breath sent a satisfying shiver down your spine. “And I do know what I want… I wanna see what’s underneath this little crop top and these tiny jean shorts…” 
Your breath hitched ever so slightly, the hairs at the back of your neck stood up. His rough hand gripped the soft flesh of your thigh firmly, the sensation, along with his words, going straight to your core and now dampened panties. 
It was 12:45 am now, the clock upon the wall ticked in front of Emmett’s eyes with an eager question. 
“It's getting pretty late… Whaddya say you come home with me tonight… And I can teach you how to ride like a real cowgirl?” He whispered through a seductive smirk, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear and effectively making your clit pulse. You bit your lip, took in the pale blue of his eyes and leaned a bit closer.
“You wanna be my teacher?” You asked him, holding his gaze. Emmett nodded before taking a swig of his beer, finishing it and putting it on the bar.
“I'm sure a girl like you could teach an old dog like me a few tricks too…” 
Your smirk turned into a grin before his eyes and your wet pussy fluttered again. God, he was so smooth and beyond sexy. The kind of man you needed.
“Take me home cowboy.” You whispered, ripples of arousal traveling around your body as you watched Emmett pull out his wallet and slap a 20 dollar bill on the counter to cover for your drinks and tip, before taking your hand like a gentleman.
Your girls cheered when they saw you walking out with him, and you so graciously gave them a playful middle finger that made them laugh out loud.
Emmett held the door open for you and all the exposed parts of your body felt the cool summer breeze of the night air. Not for long though, his truck was just a few steps away, and as the gentleman he was, he opened the passenger seat door for you and helped you in. The inside was rather cozy, an air freshener hung from the rear-view mirror along with a, quite fitting, tiny cowboy hat charm. You flicked it with your finger as Emmett got in the driver’s seat. 
“Before we leave...” He started, leaning over the center console. Before you could ask him anything, his lips met yours in a hot, sensual kiss. Inevitably, your hand reached up to touch his beard, and you delighted with the taste of beer and faint mint gum in his mouth.
“Wow… All this is yours?” You asked softly, admiring the vast space bathed in starlight.
 “Sorry, I just had to… Couldn’t wait another minute.” He whispered against the softness of your lips, forming a smile. He sat back in his seat and started the truck up, making it roar to life. His left hand held the wheel and his right hand found his new favorite spot: your thigh. Soft rock born from his radio barely made noise as he drove you down the mostly empty country roads to his home nearby. You raised both eyebrows when an old farmhouse and several barns came into view.
“It is indeed, pretty girl.” Emmett smiled, pulling up next to the house and getting out of his truck, this time helping you out of it, upholding the true gentleman behavior. 
His arm wrapped around you once again, his body warmth fighting for you against the chill summer night’s breeze. You smiled when the front door opened for you and you were the first to step foot inside the cute little farmhouse. It was rather lovely, perhaps too minimally decorated but it was to be expected, he was a 40 year old man living alone. You seemed to be the most feminine thing in this house. 
“I love it… So cozy.” You leaned against the kitchen counter, attracting Emmett to you. His hands found your hips and he looked down at you with that flirtiness that made your pussy wetter. 
“You haven’t even seen the bedroom yet.” He whispered, closer and closer to you until another sensual kiss captured your lips. Your mouth gave his skillful tongue entrance and with a delicious groan he picked you up easily. Your legs wrapped around his hips and his hands supported you by holding your ass. He swallowed a moan from you and walked you both across the house, towards the stairs and into his bedroom. There, he laid you down on his big bed, his lips reluctantly leaving yours for air.
You propped yourself up to your elbows, granting him a visual feast for his eyes to devour. Your exposed midriff, your little shorts and those cute little red boots. Since your cowboy hat had been lost somewhere on the way to his bed, your hair was slightly messy, and your lips glistened from his saliva. He didn’t know where to begin with you. 
“Fuck, you’re sexy…” He admired you, reaching down to pull one of your boots off, then the other one. Both joined his wooden floor. “I need to see this perfect body naked for me…”
You giggled, his hands now occupied themselves with your jean shorts. In a couple of seconds they also met the floor.
“Would ya look at that…” Emmett let out a flirty whistle upon seeing what you hid underneath the denim: a little red thong that made his cock twitch in his jeans, another reminder of how painfully hard he was. His calloused thumb didn’t resist and ran over your clothed pussy, slowly making its way between your folds and marveling at the feeling of the damp fabric. He growled in approval. 
“Someone’s wet…” He looked into your eyes and you felt a rush of blood divide itself to reach both your cheeks and your needy cunt. You bit your lip, your body ablaze.
“Flip over for me, baby… Face down ass up.” He ordered after playing with you over your panties a little bit. You, incredibly turned on and obedient to any sexy command he could throw your way with that deep voice of his, didn’t even think about it twice.
“Yes, Sir.” You played along, flipping over for him with your ass in the air and your cheek against the duvet cover. 
“Fuuuck…” He groaned at the sight. You knew very damn well your little thong was covering absolutely nothing from behind. “I wanna make sure this little pussy is prepped for my lesson…” he said, peeling the thong off you slowly. 
Anticipation pooled at your cunt, the flimsy red fabric left your body with his help. Once you were free, Emmett palmed both your asscheeks and spread them slowly. He moaned at the sight of your glistening pussy and tight asshole, all fully waxed.
“Jesus Fuckin’ Christ…” He breathed out, feeling his heart skip a beat. “I could come just looking at you…” He whispered just inches away from your needy cunt.
You moaned softly at his words, feeling completely exposed yet so turned on. Nothing else could matter to you anymore.
“Please...” You whimpered so needily, he couldn’t resist leaning in and letting his tongue slide between your slippery folds. A guttural groan of his made your pussy reverberate, the taste of you on his tongue so addictive, so divine.
“Oh my god…” Now, you moaned. Emmett’s hot tongue licked a fat stripe from your clit all the way to your ass, flicking against it. The sensation was so good you could barely comprehend it.
You moaned over and over, his thick fingers pumped in and out of you in a slow but firm motion. He watched hungrily as your tight cunt took them in so easily and so greedily.
“You taste like honey…” He purred to our flesh before spitting on your pussy, his saliva slowly dribbling down between your lips and making him groan in approval. Two of his fingers gathered some of that spit on them before circling your aching hole, slowly pushing inside of you from behind. 
 “Fuck… Feels so good…” You spoke in between moans that only got louder when Emmett curled his fingers inside you, hitting that special spot. “Holy fuck…” 
The louder you moaned, the faster his thick fingers moved and curled. Your eager pussy had his index and middle fingers completely wet and glistening.
“That feels good, pretty girl?” He asked with a smirk. “Gotta make sure this little pussy is ready to ride my big cock…” he growled hungrily. 
“I-I’m ready… Please…” His pumping fingers had you bucking your hips in desperation and stuttering, almost out of your mind. Emmett loved every single detail about it, you looked just so beautiful when you were this horny and needy. Mercifully, he pulled his fingers out of your begging cunt and slowly brought them to his mouth, groaning at the taste of you.
“Flip over, baby.” He commanded, the sound of the zipper of his jeans making your ears perk up. You did as he said, catching the glimpse of his pants hitting the floor and his shirt being pulled over his head. He tossed it aside, the view of his toned, hairy chest and arms, along with those sexy tattoos of his made your pussy feel even more needy. Your eyes feasted on him, from his chest to his hard on in his briefs.
“I think you’re ready for your lesson…” Emmett crawled onto the bed and laid on his back, dark curls resting on his pillows. Right away, you sat on your knees, watching the way his arm flexed as he reached over to the side table and opened the drawer. Touch guided his way to a gold wrapper.
“A little help?” He smirked, looking down at his hard cock still tucked in his underwear. You smiled and nodded, your fingers hooking on the gray waistband and gently peeling the fabric down his legs. His big hard cock immediately sprung free for your eyes to devour. A throaty groan resonated from him. It was much bigger than what you had pictured, it was impossible to not stare at it in all its veiny, throbbing glory. 
Emmett ripped open the condom wrapper with his teeth, rolling the latex down his thick cock and looking up at you with a sexy smile.
“You ready to be my cowgirl?” 
Immediately, you snapped out of your trance and nodded.
“Yes, sir…” Your voice came out sweet and so lovely, his hand motioned towards him.
“C’mere, baby…” Emmett cooed and you moved to stand above him. You lowered down slowly on him until your sensitive folds felt the covered tip of his cock, making him groan a little at the friction.
“Mmm, slow baby…” He coached you in a soft voice, putting his hands on your hips and guiding you. “Sink down slowly…” And slowly you did it. His cock slid inside your tight hot ready entrance easily, with all the time in the world. You sank down further, each of your knees on either side of his thighs almost trembling at the stretch. Loud moans escaped you both in unison as you adjusted to him and he adjusted to you. You felt so full, for a second you even doubted if it all could fit, but, as if his cock was designed for your tight little cunt, he fully slid right in with ease. 
“Oh, fuck…” You breathed out, looking into his beautiful eyes through your fluttering eyelashes. “So deep…” Words came in soft whine. Soft, clingy hands supported you by touching his broad, hairy chest. Emmett smirked, a perverted gleam in his eye from watching you adjusting to his thick cock.
“You feel me in here, baby?” He whispered, voice thick and heavy with lust. One of his calloused hands moved from your hip to your lower belly, pressing into your soft flesh and creating an erotic pressure that you could only moan and nod to. You felt him so deeply, all over and inside you.
“You feel so fucking good around me…  So tight and warm. I think this pussy was made to ride my cock.” His voice was low and rough, both hands moved to your hips again, ready to begin.. 
“Now, just go with the flow and get into a good rhythm baby… I’ll help…” He coached you with a sly grin that made your cunt clench around him. He was just so sexy, and he knew and reveled in it. “Just relax and enjoy the ride…” 
After exhaling a needy breath, you started to swivel your hips a bit, riding him slowly. Emmett groaned, his eyes closed in utter pleasure. His hands stayed glued to your hips and guided the slow rhythm your rolling hips set. You both moaned. His hips moved a little under you, encouraging you more and more.
“Look at you cowgirl...” His voice was already a little breathy, his groan took over the last letters of the word “girl”. His cock throbbed inside you at the sight of your pretty tits moving under the Budweiser logo. He helped you out with that, pulling your cropped shirt off your body and hungrily taking in the view of your bare chest as you bounced on his dick.
You moaned more when the tip of his cock hit that deep spot, and the more you spent riding him and earning yourself the title of cowgirl, the more he entertained an idea. 
After a minute or two, Emmett pulled you down, making you chest to chest with him and wrapping his toned arms around you. A searing, sloppy kiss entered your mouth while his hips pistoned from beneath. Your sweet tongue melted into his before he whispered against your lips.
“Now it’s time for you to relax and I'll do all the work baby…” His hoarse voice tickled your skin and he planted his feet on the mattress, gaining the support he needed to immediately pick up the pace and pound into you relentlessly from underneath. No thoughts registered properly in your brain from that point forward, it was all just a hot, wet pool of pleasure. A series of curses left your lips with no particular order and with no respect for anything.  
“Oh-fuck… Oh my fucking god... Fuck!” You cried out into the skin of his neck, the sound of your voice mixing with his low groans and the slapping of skin.
“You fuckin like that?” He panted into your ear, his hips never stopping as you moaned non stop.
“Yes... Yes... Fuck, yes!” You cried out as his hands moved to spank your ass, hard. You almost screamed, the sting nearly sending you over the edge. It was so overwhelming, you didn’t fully realize just how close you were until that moment.
“Jesus… I think I'm gonna come…” You whimpered and his hand came down again hard on your ass, definitely leaving a red mark. Emmett held you so tight against his chest, holding you in place for his thick cock to slam into over and over.
“Come for me..” He looked right into your eyes with pure want in the blue of his irises. And as if on command… You did. 
Eyes squeezed shut so tight you saw lights, a whiny moan was born from the depths of your chest and your sweet, slick cunt clenched around him tight. Your legs couldn't stop shaking and your orgasm took over every single sense. All your being was just a giant orgasm that still could feel him pumping hard into you.
“Holy fuck..” He breathed out in awe watching and feeling you succumb to all the pleasure. 
“Good girl..” He whispered, praising you right before capturing your lips in a hot kiss. “I'm coming too..” Even in your state, you could tell. His thrust had gotten sloppier and his breathing was much heavier. He wasn't able to hold back much longer. Inside the transparent latex, you felt him pulse and fill the material with his warm cum. He groaned, his arms held you tight and kept you there until the last drop was out.
Panting like you had just ran a marathon and with hearts beating fast, you laid there chest to chest. You put your forehead against his in a sweet moment, in response, his hand rubbed your back slowly.
 “Jesus… that was...” He whispered, still a little out of breath looking right into your eyes. You couldn't help but blush and put on a shy smile. 
“...the best sex i’ve ever had…” You softly finished his sentence. 
He pulled out slowly and sat up with you still pressed against his chest. His eyes studied your face for a minute before speaking. “I think you may be a real cowgirl after all…” There was that sly smirk once more, one that made you return the sentiment and lean in with him for one last soft kiss.
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Pinterest board with our visual inspo for this fic, made by @fuckiingloser
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novvabee · 2 days ago
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More Jegulily x reader pls 🙏🙏
so... ask and you shall receive.
Guess
poly!jegulily x reader
cw: so this is smut, MDNI (18+), oral (f and m receiving), slapping?, hair pulling, unprotected sex, swearing
word count:2.9k
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You and Lily loved to rile up your boys. You played games, you teased, you taunted, you knew how to get your way. They were both easy to get riled up in different ways.
James was easy in the sense that if you dangled something in front of him, something he wanted, he would instantly forget what he was doing and drop everything for it. All it took was a lingering touch, a simple look, a suggestive comment, and he was putty in your hands. For Lily, it was often the first and last, for you it was usually the second. All he wanted was attention at the end of the day. 
Regulus was much harder, but after practice and trial and error on both you and Lily’s part, you found exactly what to do. Regulus liked to get what he wanted, all the time, so when either you or Lily would test him in a way that he couldn’t get what he wanted right when he wanted it, it would break him just a little bit. This often led to teasing comments in front of friends, suggestive whispers in class, hot and heavy kisses right before a quidditch match.
Tonight, you and Lily had a plan for both of them.
As the party raged on in the Gryffindor common room, you set your sights on James, setting your plan into motion. You found him lounging on one of the big squashy couches in front of the fireplace, talking with Marlene and Remus. You walked up to him and sat across his lap. He wrapped his arm around you and kissed your cheek sweetly.
“Hi love. How's your night been going?” He asked.
You smiled at him, sweet as sugar, “Not as fun without you.” you replied.
He chuckled and kissed your cheek again, then turned back to his conversation with his friends. They were talking about something to do with an upcoming hogsmeade weekend, and you were getting bored. You rested your head on James’s shoulder, but he didn’t seem to notice anything. So you decided to amp up your antics.
You huffed and looked around, pretending to be upset to get him to fall into your trap. Looking around you noticed Lily working on Regulus and tried not to smirk. James did indeed fall into your trap, attention snapping to you. 
“What’s wrong, my love?” he asked.
You sighed and spoke in a low tone so the music drowned out your words to anyone else but James.
“I just want the end of the night to come sooner.” you said, still pretending to be upset.
James’s brow furrowed. “Why’s that? Are you not having fun?”
“I am,” You assured. “It’s just…” you leaned in to whisper in his ear, noticing the goosebumps spreading along his neck, “me and Lily wanna play a game with you.”
James stiffened under you. “What do you mean? What kind of game?” he asked.
You smiled at him. “One I think you’ll like.” you giggled, then kissed the spot right below his ear, just along his jaw. The spot you knew set him off. “You wanna play?” you asked, pulling back to see his reaction.
He was locked into the trap completely. His pupils were blown and there was a flush across his face and neck. You smiled, knowing you accomplished what you set out to do. Words seemed to fail him, he just nodded.
You stood and pulled him along with you, heading toward where Lily and Regulus were talking in the corner of the room. Lily was smirking, Regulus looked pissed. Looks like she accomplished her mission as well. 
You didn’t stop to talk to them, just continued pulling James along through the crowd of the party, aiming for the dorms. You did this knowing that Regulus would follow, knowing it would piss him off more. 
You reached James’s room and pushed open the door and dragged James through, keeping it open for Regulus and Lily. 
Regulus stormed into the room right up to you. You sat James down on his bed and turned to face Regulus. You put on the most innocent, angelic face you could muster.
“What is this?” he asked sternly, very close to you.
“I don’t know what you mean Reggie.” you said, honey coating your words.
He shook his head and scoffed “Not Reggie, not when I know you two are up to something.” he said, looking between you and Lily. 
Lily replied for you saying, “I told you, we have a fun game to play.” She pulled you away from Regulus’s dominant presence and into the middle of the room. “Now, sit.” she ordered. If he wasn’t pissed before, he definitely is now. He hates when anyone orders him around, but he listened and sat next to James, arms crossed and eyes shooting daggers at you and Lily.
“We have a game for you,” you said cheerily.
“Yes, you said that,” Regulus snapped. You gave him false puppy dog eyes and he seemed to relax, not meaning to snap at you.
“We will do anything you want,” Lily said walking up to James, taking his face in her hand. He nuzzled into her palm and kissed it. “All you’ve gotta do…” she dropped his face and walked back to you, “Is guess what color panties we’re wearing.” she explained at last.
James looked like he was going to combust.
“That’s your game?” Regulus scoffed.
“Should be easy, right?” you said, pushing your luck. If he did guess correctly… there would most likely be hell to pay.
His gaze darkened but he smiled, leaning forward, forearms resting on his knees. “Fine. Let's play.” he said, sending chills down your spine.
“W-wait,” James chimed in, “what if we guess wrong”
Lily again walked up to him. She bent at the waist and whispered in his ear, “Then you get nothing.”
He let out something that sounded like a whimper. His gaze following her back to her spot next to you. 
“Still wanna play?” she asked. James seemed to snap out of a daze and nodded. You could tell he was thinking back to every pair he had ever seen on you two, trying to prepare his guesses.
“Ok Jamsie, you first.” you said to him. 
He took a moment, looking Lily up and down, seeming like he was trying to activate some type of x-ray vision. He took a stuttering breath and said “Red.”
Lily shook her head. “Wrong.” She answered him.
His face fell, desperation radiation off of him.
“It’s ok baby,” you said, “You still have one more chance. You can still guess mine right.” you explained gently to him.
He took another moment before blurting out “The black ones.”
You squinted at him, “Which black ones?” you asked, goading him. You needed him to clarify.
“Uh, the ones with the little bows.” he guessed, sounding almost out of breath.
You frowned at him, shaking your head. “Oh baby, I’m sorry but wrong again.” you flicked your gaze to Regulus who was now smirking.
“Your turn.” you said sweetly.
He looked at you, then at Lily. He was still smirking as he said, “You’re not wearing any.”
Lily smiled and walked towards the winner, tuning out the whines from James about the unfairness. She just asked the victor what it is he wanted. Regulus stood from the bed and stalked over to where you stood. 
“Y/N. Knees. Now.” he said, each word clipped and laced with a tone of anger. 
You listened not wanting to anger him further, especially if he was about to be in control of restricting your breathing. Regulus was mean, and when he was using your mouth, it was best to follow his orders so that he would go easier on you. 
You waited for him to undo his belt in front of you, but he instead squatted down to your level. “I do love your mouth, but I’m going to need you to use it on Jamie, ok?” he ordered you. 
“But-” you began to protest, but Regulus was quick to cut you off by grabbing your jaw, not enough to hurt, but enough to get you to shut up.
“I won your little game.” he said, no amusement in his voice. “And you said that if I won, I would get anything I wanted.” he explained, your jaw still held firmly in his grasp. “And I want you to take care of James before I have my fun with you. Got it?” he asked. You nodded the best you could, then he pushed you towards James.
You crawled between James’s legs, smiling up at him. “Hi baby,” you say, sliding your hands up his thighs. He shifted with your touch, practically begging you to give him something, anything. “You gotta help me out here.” You say, tugging on the waistband of his pants.
He wasted no time, undoing his belt and pulling his pants down along with his underwear. He only managed to shove them halfway down his thighs before giving up and pulling you by your hair closer to his red, leaking tip. 
“Please, please,” he begged breathlessly.
You took him in your hand, squeezing the base of his cock, before licking a stripe along a vein that ran the length of him. His breath shuttered and his hips bucked up into your hand. Before taking him into your mouth, you glanced over to where Lily was on her knees, doing the same to Regulus.
You did not envy her, you knew Regulus tended to hold back with you ever so slightly. But Lily? He never held back, but that is exactly how she liked it.
James whined above you, forcing your attention back on him. You licked and kissed his tip before taking it into your mouth and sucking. The noises that James let out were downright unholy. The moans and whimpers heading straight to your core.
James lost control fairly quickly, starting to buck into your mouth. He fisted your hair and used it as leverage to fuck into your mouth. You relaxed your throat, allowing him to fuck deeper, and breathed in time to his movements. If Regulus was mean, James was desperate. 
He continued his assault on your throat, until you felt another hand in your hair, yanking you back and away from James’s cock. You gasped and finally caught your breath. You looked up at the person holding your hair, neck straining from being pulled all the way back.
Regulus was looking down at you, nothing but lust in his eyes. “Bed.” he commanded.
You scrambled to your feet and climbed onto the bed, wasting no time, ready for your turn with Regulus.
James once again whined. “But, wait”.
Regulus’s attention snapped to the boy. “You lost the game.” was all he said to him before stalking up to you on the bed. Your heart was racing, you noticed your whole body felt like it was warm, too warm. Regulus took your face in his hands and kissed you gently. His lips were soft against yours, but you wanted, needed more. You threw your arms around his neck, attempting to deepen the kiss. Regulus pulled beck, looking down at you. 
“These stupid fucking games you play,” he said, tutting and shaking his head. He gripped your thighs, right under the hem of your skirt. “You were walking around that party,” he slapped the back of your right thigh, making you gasp, “in this tiny skirt,” he slapped the other, the sting making tears brim your eyes, “and nothing underneath. Did you want someone else to see?” 
You shook your head.
He slapped the back of your thigh again, “words.” he demanded.
“No,” you responded. “I-I just wanted to play the game.” you explained.
He nodded. “Ok, well now you’re going to play my game. Turn around.”
You felt your heartbeat in your throat, in your dripping core. You spun around, kneeling now on the edge of the bed, Regulus standing behind you. Your back to his chest, he was supporting some of your body weight as he kissed your neck and down your shoulder. 
You were now facing Lily leaning back against the pillows at the head of the bed, clothes completely discarded. 
“James,” came Regulus’s voice from above you. James’s attention left Lily’s tits and landed on Regulus long enough for Regulus to give him an order. “Why don’t you eat Lily out? How does that sound?”
“Perfect,” Lily answered for James, pulling him into a kiss.
That is as much as you saw before you were shoved down, knees still on the edge of the bed, ass in the air. Regulus flipped your skirt up, bunching it around your waist. 
He slid a finger through your slick, circling your clit, brushing over it lightly. You gasped, hips jolting back asking for more. Regulus chuckled above you. His hand reeled back and slapped your core. You let out a squeak, jolting away this time.
“So wet,” he said above you, “why?”
You felt like you were on fire, you needed him to do something, anything, and soon. You would take anything he gave you. “Want you.” you said, becoming incoherent. 
Another slap landed right against your wet cunt. “Where are your manners, huh?” he asked, he was toying with you now, knowing that you were getting desperate for him. This was his game, you liked to tease him, and he liked teasing you back, except his form of teasing bordered on torture. 
“Please! I'm sorry, please. I want you please.” you corrected yourself, hoping that it would appease him.
It seemed to please him enough that he ran the head of his cock through your wet folds. You moaned at the feeling, trying to push yourself back onto him. He gripped your hip with one hand and lined himself up with the other. He pushed himself in, ever so slightly. The moan that you let out was borderline pornographic, finally feeling something.
That something was not nearly enough, satisfying you for a moment before you tried your luck in pushing back onto him again. No luck, his grip on your hips too firm.
He gripped your hair, pulling you back up to his chest before muttering in your ear “You’ll take what I give you.” before releasing your hair and dropping you back to the mattress.
It was you who was whining now, squirming in place, trying to get some sort of relief. 
Regulus suddenly pushed all the way in, bottoming out and loving the sounds you made. He set a relentless pace, not allowing your body time to adjust to his size. You felt the sting, the burn, the stretch. It added to the pleasure Regulus was set on giving you. 
“Fuck,” you cried out as Regulus pounded into you, seemingly taking all his aggravation out on your cervix. 
He was so incredibly deep. You could have sworn you felt him in the pit of your stomach. You gripped the sheets below you, trying to anchor yourself to something. You felt another hand in your hair, this time more gentle. You looked up to see Lily brushing hair from your face, moaning as James worked his tongue along her core.
You did envy her now, James was a god with his tongue. You turned your face to where he was connected to Lily, his tongue masterfully working her clit. He was feasting on her, his own hips rutting against the mattress, trying to chase his own high.
You moaned at the sight, taking it all in was too much, Regulus, Lily, James, it was all too much. “Reg-gie” you moaned out, voice breaking in between his thrusts, “please.”
Regulus sped up, hips snapping to yours, the noise of skin slapping mixing with wet squelching and both James and Lily’s moans making you lose control.
“Please can I cum,” you moaned, feeling your release quickly approaching. “Please Reggie,” you started begging, knowing that finishing without his permission would leave you in a worse position than you were in currently. 
He granted you permission by reaching around you and rubbing your clit with the same vigor he was fucking you. 
You cried out as your orgasm washed over you, feeling every nerve in your body surge. You moaned Regulus’s name, your cunt spasming around his cock, you felt him twitch inside you, continuing his pace until he released hot ropes of his cum inside your walls. He halted, pulling out slowly.
You heard Lily reach her orgasm, looking in time to see her back arch off of the bed. James, too, reached his high cumming on the sheets just from eating Lily out. He laid there, trying to catch his breath, just like the rest of you. 
Regulus eventually stepped away to grab a wet cloth and ran it down your thighs. He reached your used cunt and you jerked away from him. “I know baby, I know. Just gotta clean you up, then you can rest,” he said gently. You laid still for him and once he was done he leaned down and kissed your forehead. “You alright?” he asked.
You nodded a little fucked out. 
He pulled one of James’s shirts over your head, kissing the tip of your nose, the dominant and mean Regulus gone, melted away into the sweet and gentle Regulus again. You all piled into the bed, curled up with each other and enjoying the afterglow of your stupid game.
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so this is my first time writing smut... idk if it is good but I had a vision and I needed to put it put into the universe so...
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vxnuslogy · 5 hours ago
Text
— what does it mean to be a star?
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pairing: sunday x gn!reader
premise: sunday has stayed with you and the stellaron hunters for a few years. your lives has been filled with many adventures, both good and bad. but like any other story crafted by elio, they must come to an end eventually.
– warnings: slight angst if you squint, implications of committing suicide, not proofread that much.
– author’s note: one final (?) stellaron hunter!sunday fic before he gets released. ive missed writing for this man. art credits to 冒火锅海台 on Weibo for the art. | 1.9k words.
— tags: @ryescapades @mitsvriii @https-sourlimes @dazaisms ; if you'd like to be tagged, please let me know by sending an ask off anon or filling out the forms in my pinned !!!
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“what do you think makes a star, a star?”
elio asked you that question decades ago. and only now have you arrived at one final answer. out of curiosity, you asked each hunter the same question over the years that have passed, each of them giving one answer that didn’t quite match the rest.
“to be the top player of course!” silver wolf exclaimed, her tone in a matter of fact manner as she didn’t even look up from her console. you only shook your head in amusement, jotting her answer down in a new journal your boss had given you as a present.
“a star you ask,” kafka tilted her head curiously at you. eyes freed from her usual contacts and makeup followed your movement as you stirred the coffee in your cup. “well, a star for me would be something that captures the attention of others without much effort. stars often piqued your interest, didn’t they?” you only smiled in response and nodded. you made a mental note to write it down later before you went to bed.
firefly took a little longer than the last two to answer. you patiently waited, spooning pieces of cake to your lips as the girl in front of you was deep in thought. “a guide. even in your darkest moment, a star will shine as a guide for you to follow so you don’t stray from your path.” she answered in a whisper. eyes wistful as she played with the dessert on her plate. 
“a star,” blade’s gruff voice cut through the night like a knife. a few bottles of local xianzhou wine separating you two as you sat on the roof overlooking the stars above. you hadn’t expected blade of all people to humor your questions, but here you were, grateful in his presence. “it means to burn. so brightly you are unrecognizable, to others and yourself.”
“you have a sad answer,” you mutter, taking a sip of the wine from the small cup as the man huffs. 
“time takes a heavy toll for both you and i,” the wind sways his hair in a deathly dance. he brings his cup to his lips and drinks in one go. you don’t mention how you can barely finish a cup with how strong the drink was—blade could not feel the pain of it in his throat, and he never will. “you’ve already burned through the remains of your past self. it won’t be long before you look in the mirror and be unable to recognize your reflection.”
you frown at his response. “you’re pessimistic.”
“and you’re hypocritical.”
you have no rebuttal to his accusation, after all, at the very core of your character, the word “hypocrite” hangs like a thorny crown. 
“tell me, starcatcher,” red eyes reflected the conflict you’ve been massing deep within the columns of your bones. they crash onto your being like how the oceans do to the shores—unrelenting and loud. “are you that afraid of losing another that you love them as if tomorrow they’ll die?”
you fled the roof that night. unable to face your hopelessness head on after a fresh wound of death lingers by your heart. another attempt, another reminder of the welling darkness that swells from the tip of your fingers and slowly corrupts your entire body. it drowns you and you can’t help but fear that time is clutching your shoulder, weighing you down to the ocean floor as it laughs at your predicament.
“so it’s decided then.”
but that’s no longer the case. no, not anymore. it's been decades since then, and you’ve changed.
elio sits by his office chair, typewriter moved to the side as he personally penned the final bits of your songbird’s script. you were elio’s editor and proofreader. you don’t exactly remember when it started but when you were still an unwilling understudy—an actor who refused to acknowledge the stage—he would trap you in his office and force you to read over his script to make sure there were no errors.
a small and sad smile tugged at your lips as you read the pages of inked fate. “this is for the best.”
“the best, yes,” elio ceases his writing. compiling the papers into one bulk and staring right at you. “but it's not the ending you wanted.”
you shook your head, “my preferred ending isn’t relevant to how the story ends. it’s not my story to tell.”
“yes, but it's a story you’re meant to read,” there was pity in his eyes. your heart felt too heavy with realization to even feel offended by such a look. “you have the right to feel dissatisfied.”
“thank you, elio, truly,” you only gave destiny’s slave one final smile before standing. you quietly made your way to the door, forcing your steps to sound quiet and lacking sadness. but you can’t do that, you never will. building up walls will only prove to be a waste of effort. not when elio knows every brick by heart.
with a heavy sigh, you linger by the office door before making your way to your workshop. memories from years ago flood your mind as the halls fill your senses. photos from vacation, missions, and simple outings hang by the walls while certain trinkets and relics from bygone travels litter the many desks and drawers. time did take a heavy toll just like blade said. kafka’s skin started to wrinkle a bit, silver wolf started growing taller, firefly grew paler and paler, and blade looked more like death with every breath he took.
time was a painful thing to remember—it’s not infinite. and even if it was, it's never always kind to everyone. and you? you are worse than time and death itself. you were the inevitable–finality. 
“good morning, [name].”
a voice from behind greets you like a new sunrise–a reminder that a new day is here. you couldn’t help the smile that tugged on your lips. seeing sunday in blade’s shirt hang over his body like a blanket, firefly’s hair ties on his wrists and a spare console from silver wolf in one hand brings you so much joy. 
“sunday, good morning!” you sounded breathless. tucking both hands behind your back to hide your shaking as he joined you on your way to the workshop he’s made as his makeshift nest.
sunday smiles—filled with all the hope you’ve craved and lost. it stings your heart like a needle but you don’t show it. you’re first to look away, like all the other times in his presence, unable to face the way his wings flutter and smile twitch in concern.
when you reach the workshop, you flicker the lights on and sunday makes himself at home. sitting by the windowsill as you sat down by your table. scattered fabrics for sunday’s final mission lay in your hands, and you’d be damned if you messed up now. even with a heavy heart, you willed your hands to work, all the while ignoring the concerned stare of the angel sunbathing by the window.
the two of you spend the first few hours of morning in each other’s quiet presence before your tongue itches to ask him a question. “sunday,” you call his name and you curse the flutter in your chest when he immediately looks at you. he noticed his overly quick response and covered half of his face with a fist, pretending to hide a cough instead of his coloring cheeks.
“yes?” he asks, attention solely on you as you pin the needle back on the cushion and smooth out any creases.
“what does it mean to be a star?”
he blinked owlishly at your question. a soft hum escaped his lips as his fingers tapped on the rim of his cup in contemplation. “is there…” he tests the waters—seeing if it's too hot or too cold. “any particular occasion for you to ask me a question?”
you shake your head in amusement when his more formal tone slips out. “no, not at all. just a little tradition is all.”
“well, then,” the words die out on his tongue. every once in a while, sunday would peer at you like a lost child but you’d only nod encouragingly. “a star means to be remembered.” he looked out the window, watching the clouds pass by in a blur. “even if they aren’t always there, you know they exist.”
sometimes you wonder if it's possible for sunday to look at himself through the lens of your eyes. he was beautiful like the praise of idrila, happiness like aha’s laughter, and the curiosity for adventure like akivili. sunday wasn’t just a star, he was the entire universe. and he remained blissfully unaware of it.
“[name], is everything all right?” 
you’re snapped out of your daze when you feel his hand on your cheek. lost in the replays of sunday’s image in your mind, you didn’t notice the stray tears that had betrayed your image of an unbothered editor. 
“please, don’t cry,” he whispers, pressing your foreheads together. his thumb gently wiping away the tears that escaped your eyes. you can’t help but chuckle. sunday truly was like a sponge when it comes to others’ habits.
“what hurts you so?”
“what makes you think i’m hurt?” quite frankly, you were hurt. so incredibly hurt by his eventual departure but your heart knows his stay was only temporary. but that didn’t mean you never hoped. 
hoped. over the course of a few years, sunday had succeeded in the mission the other hunters failed at. he made you hope again.
“kafka is cooking everyone’s breakfast. it’ll surely brighten up your mood.” he states taking your hand in his and tugging you in the direction of the dining room and kitchen. sunday maneuvered through the headquarters with such ease your ribs began to clamp on your heart again.
this was his home, his respite. but only for a short time.
when the two of you enter the room, you notice his frown. the emotions of everyone were palpable—it felt suffocating. your eyes met blade and you just smiled. one deep breath in and you snapped back into your joyous self. bringing temporary light to the room.
even as you ate and chatted, there were undertones of sadness. sunday nudged your side and quietly asked you, “are you quite sure everything is alright? everyone seems sad today.”
you look at them one by one. kafka’s eyes are slowly being accompanied by eye bags and wrinkles, silver wolf is nearing blade’s shoulder, firefly looks paler, and blade’s hand shakes as he holds his chopsticks. you look at sunday’s eyes, and smile. even he was a victim of time with the way his hair grew longer and face filled with more life.
“they’re just worried,” you look away first like always. meeting blade’s gaze halfway and smiling to yourself when you see him huff in denial. “your next mission is here.”
what does it mean to be a star? elio asked you that question a long, long time ago. and you only found the answer in the form of an angel with wings behind his ears and eyes that shined like the sun. the star you’ve grown to love burns brighter than the sun but still requires rest when night falls. 
to be a star means to be remembered, even in the face of departure. you remain bright and unforgotten. left in the care of a conductor and an express you’ve once loved.
to be a star means to face the inevitable that sunday was meant for greater things than being just a fugitive venturing the universe.
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© vxnuslogy 2024. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works.
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the-kr8tor · 3 days ago
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Hii I have short drabble prompt how about the reader makes plushies of them and Hobie similar people making hello Kitty of themselves and partner hope having good day/night
Hi, lovely! I hope this is what you meant! Thank you for requesting ❤️❤️
Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader
Word count: 1.6k
Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, subtle talk of marriage, lovestruck! Hobie, fluff
ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ
The ribbon in your hands is soft and silky to the touch. Your music blares in your ears as you wrap his anniversary present, you still can't believe that you and Hobie have been going strong for a year now. A year full of love and annoying each other with teasing remarks. You smile at the fond memories flitting through your mind like a film roll showing you all the best bits.
Finally tying the ribbon to perfection, you stare proudly at how well you packaged his gift. The box is covered in checkered wrapping paper with the ribbon in the same ruby hue. Now that you're staring at it, the present looks more like a Christmas gift than an anniversary present.
Your pride takes a hit, shoulders slumping down at the thought. “Shit.” Now you gotta start all over again, preferably with new wrapping paper. Maybe something that has hearts on it will be better? Or something that matches with the gift you've painstakingly worked hard on for weeks will fit better? Or will that be too on the nose?
Thinking very hard on a very hard decision, you don't hear the sound of keys outside your flat, and the unmistakable jiggle of the doorknob as it opens with a squeak.
“You need some oil on this, lovie—” he stops in his tracks when you don't immediately greet him with a hug or a loud ‘Hobie!’ the second he enters. He finds it…weird to not be cuddled right away. You've spoilt him.
Hobie tilts his head to the side, peeking through the open kitchen only to not find you whistling a tune while making something sweet. Pocketing the spare key you gave him so that he stops popping up from your fire escape, he crosses the modest flat in hopes of finding you. Lest his surprise goes to waste, or worse, eaten by London pigeons.
Knocking on the bedroom door, he calls your name sweetly with a sing-song lilt. Of course he didn't forget what day it is today. How could he when it's been marked on his calendar since the day you said yes to him being your boyfriend? He has been counting down the days, annoyingly so to the gang at spider society, who are probably waiting for the news on how the day went.
“Love?” He peeks inside when you don't answer, he knows you're in there when he can hear the blaring music from where he's standing. A grin spreads across his pierced lips, seeing how your hips are gently swaying to the music, arms crossed in front of you like you're in deep contemplation.
Sneaking in, it doesn't take much for him to go unnoticeable by you when your music is ear burstingly loud. He looks over your shoulder to look at what's got your pants in a twist, his eyes widens when he sees the finely wrapped gift, grin getting bigger at how excited he is to open it.
But before he could surprise you, hoping that he'll hear you screech so loud that the neighbours would complain about the noise, you're unfurling the ribbon already with a gentle tug.
“Wait— oi!” He immediately wraps his arms around your middle, effectively stopping you from opening his present. Your shocked scream pierces his eardrums more than your music.
“Holy— Hobie?!”
“That's right, lovie.” He smirks at your shocked expression. When you tilt your head to look at him, he presses a surprise kiss on the tip of your nose, effectively flustering you in his arms.
You swear your legs would've given out if not for his arms around you. “What— you're early!”
“Y’know what they say, early bird gets the present.” He chuckles at your forced laugh. “‘sides, I think ‘m late because you're already openin’ my present.”
“How presumptuous,” you lean against his warm chest, mirroring his grin. “Maybe this isn't yours.”
“You sure that's not my name on the card?”
“I'm pretty sure it's not your name.” You tamp down a chuckle.
“Who’s it for then?” He raises a brow, a teasing smirk on his lips. “Ned?”
“Close, it's for James.”
“That bloody wanker doesn't even know your last name!” He squeezes you tighter, lifting you up from your feet, and face nuzzling the crook of your neck, effectively tickling you.
“And you do?!” You say in between laughter, riling him up further.
He stops for reprieve and air, still squeezing you in his arms. “Fuck yeah I do!”
“What is it then, Mr. Brown?” You raise your chin at him like you're challenging him.
“You just said it, love.” Your cheeks feel like it's on fire, smile faltering for a second before it's replaced with a lopsided grin. “Or it'll be in a few years I bet.”
You bite your lip to tamp down any giddy laughter from escaping. “Care to bet good money on it?”
“Nah, it'll be cheatin’ because I already know I'll win.” He winks at you all suave like, and pressing another chaste yet affectionate kiss on your searing cheek. Letting you go, and fixing your balance once his arms aren't around you anymore, he walks towards his gift. “What's this then?”
“It wouldn't make sense if I told you now, Hobie.” You sigh out, completely lovestruck with him that your legs refuse to stand up as you plummet down on the bed with a squeak.
Hobie picks the box up gingerly, “why were you openin’ it?”
You shrug on the mattress. “I thought it looked too Christmas-ssy. I was about to change the wrapping until you shocked me into a near heart attack.”
“‘cus of all the red?” He's trying incredibly hard not to rip the wrapping open to see his present. He sits down next to you with your gift gingerly placed on his lap.
“Mm-hmm,” you lay on your side, cheek squished on the bed. “You can open it, you know.”
“Thank fuck, I was holdin’ back.”
He's much more gentle at opening the gift even though he's itching to see what's inside. In the end the wrapping is still intact and the ribbon is wrapped around his head like a bandana, courtesy of a playful you.
“Fuckin' hell, is that me?” He looks at the inside of the box then to you, “and…You!” His childish giggling echoes around your room. You smile as he lifts both plushies up from its cardboard confinement. “Did you make these?” Hobie holds them up side by side.
His plushie is as soft and cuddly as the real one, complete with his regular spiky and leather fit. His eyes are buttons that are in the same shade as his hazel ones, you've even captured his signature smirk through the stitching. Yours is just as accurate as the real one, you're wearing your favourite outfit, the one you wore on your first real date with him. But with the added touch of his spiked bracelet that he gave you on your third date with him. All made by you from scratch.
A sudden shyness envelopes you like a blanket. Hands clammy and chest heavy. “Do you like them?”
“Love,” he makes a face, wordlessly saying 'really?’ with his handsome face. “I fuckin' love it!” Pouncing on you, he embraces you as he lays atop you. Calloused hands cradling your cheeks whilst he peppers your face with warm and affectionate kisses. “You're a bloody wizard, how the fuck did you make these so perfectly?” He says as he lifts himself above you, beaming down at you with endearment.
“I had to stare at your picture for hours on end.” You act like it was a tedious task. You loved making the plushies with all of your heart.
“A win win then?” Tilting his head, he can't help but smile even more that his cheeks are starting to hurt.
“Absolutely.” You say with a chuckle, “I also started on a Spider-Man suit for plushie you, but I haven't finished it yet.”
“You goddamn angel.” He coos, “don't finish it yet, let me help you, yeah?” You nod as he leans closer to etch his lips upon yours. But he stops halfway, paused as he stares at your blissful face while your eyes are closed and lips pursed in waiting. “First…” you crack one eye open, lips still puckered together. He squeezes your lips together playfully with his index and thumb before letting go as you fake a pout. “You need to see your present.”
Hobie lifts himself off you in one swift motion. “What is it?”
“That beats the purpose of a surprise, innit?” In one fell swoop, he pulls you off the bed, standing you back up. “C’mon then.”
“Wait, hold on!” He's already walking out towards the fire escape. Picking up the plushies, you connect their hands together. The magnet you've stitched inside pulls the soft hands together like they're holding hands. “Ta da! I almost forgot I did that.”
Hobie looks at you in awe. “You never fail to surprise me, lovie.” He says it so sweetly that you almost melted into a puddle right there and then. “Bring them with.”
You take a step forward, arms full of the mini Hobie and you. “Wait, we're swinging to get there?”
He shrugs with the familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “There's traffic.”
Meeting with him, he immediately pulls you towards him with a strong sturdy arm. “You better not fake drop me, Hobie.” You say as he gestures for you to wrap your legs around his hips.
Standing up, he climbs over the balcony, feet precariously perched on the thin metal. “That was one time, love.” With one hand, he holds you in place, the other is raised and aiming towards the nearest building.
“One time too many—!” He jumps off and you feel your stomach leave your body. His cackling can be heard above the rushing wind kissing your cheeks.
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merakiui · 8 hours ago
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a little scenario that’s been floating around in my head for a bit (◕ᴗ◕✿) soft non con with hybrid wolf Jade and a bunny girl darling…
Jade who’s going into rut, delirious and no way to properly relieve himself without a mate… maybe a walk through the forest will help him clear his head! He’s barely managing in his condition ;( all hot and stumbling over himself… this was a bad idea. maybe he should just find someplace to lay down. But he spots a little bunny girl in the bushes and next thing he knows his legs are working again and he’s chasing her through the forest!
The poor thing is trembling and kicking at him, but she’s no match for Jade’s strength! Surely she’s about to be eaten! But he’s more horny than hungry orz and she’s only slightly less fearful when he’s suddenly burying his face between her thighs. He’s not gonna eat her but he still wants a taste! She’s so small and soft and warm… and smells SO good. He won’t listen to her protests but is being surprisingly… gentle… doing his best to prep and stretch her out with his fingers (。>﹏<) but it’s still so much when he’s finally inside!
Jade’s cooing sweet praises at her for taking him so well between pathetic whining and panting ( ;´ - `;) he wants to be slow but he can’t… it’s the sweetest relief he’s known! He passes out soon after knotting her, and after the swelling went down enough she took her chance to escape! He’s disappointed to see that she’s already gone when he wakes up :(
It’s a relief for her to still be alive after that encounter, but not so much in the following months… She better pray that she never runs into him again, cuz if Jade sees how pregnant she is with his pups he’s sure as hell not letting his little bunny girl escape a second time (๑-﹏-๑)
👁 👁 AAAAA THIS IS A FEAST!!!!! Anon, you have no idea how down bad I am for bunny x wolf dynamic…… orz and with wolf Jade as well,,, it’s over for me. OTL small bunnygirl with a belly full of pups… so heavily pregnant that all of the other bunnies in your village marvel over how you’re able to hold so many, all of them assuming those are baby bunnies. No one knows anything about the wolf you encountered and you won’t tell anyone because you’re too scared, fearing that the others in your village will panic if they think you led a wolf into your safe, peaceful home. >_<
But sometimes it really is so difficult to stand for long periods of time or do lots of work without breaks, and you have the appetite of a wolf now with so many pups!! You’re only a few months along, but you look like you’re at the end of your pregnancy, fit to burst and give birth any moment. You avoid doctor appointments because you worry they’ll be able to tell what really happened even though everything is completely confidential and Dr. Rosehearts would never do such a thing!
Aaaaa imagine instead of encountering Jade again it’s his twin brother…… Floyd who only finds you because you smell familiar (like a wolf or maybe like his family), so he’s confused when he parts the bushes to find…a bunny??? And you panic because you think it’s him—the wolf who chased you down and fucked into you like a mindless beast. Floyd who tries to speak softly and sweetly to get you to calm down. You’re so pregnant. He doesn’t want to stress you out. :< maybe you can come back to his home and he can make you something nice to eat as an apology for spooking you. You must be starving, right?
Wolf Floyd who unintentionally leads you right to Jade. :)
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vanillarosekiss · 2 days ago
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His pink roses.. ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ part 1.
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I saw an instagram reel that inspired me to write this. Listened to Lana del Rey the entire time i was writing…
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A/N: Was originally meant to be smut with no plot, but part 2 will have smut.
His pink roses.. ˖ . ݁𝜗𝜚. ݁₊ mood board!
Pairing: Afab!reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley.
Summary: Gaz asks Simon to be one of his groomsmen at his wedding (along with the rest of TF141), but he has to walk down the isle with another woman as Gaz’s wife doesn’t know you as well. You and Simon are in an established relationship, and he doesn’t realise how much this makes you jealous.
Warnings: language, hints of angst at some parts?, alcohol consumption, afab!reader, dismissive and slightly argumentative Simon (at first), reader is insecure.
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You turn your head as the groomsmen walk down the wedding isle, each with a bridesmaid hanging on their arm, each man sporting a tux that matched the pretty pink dress that the women wore. Every bridesmaid had a small bunch of dusty pink roses, all bundled together in the end to make the bride's bouquet. It was beautiful, a sight to be seen, and you were so happy for Gaz, he was always so nice to you since Simon had - reluctantly - introduced you to the rest of the task force. But you couldn't help but bite the inside of your cheek as you saw him, your Simon, walking down the aisle with a dainty woman hanging off his arm. The ugly green monster had poisoned you, it was inevitable. You didn't know why you were so deeply jealous, your stomach threatening to flip at the sight. You knew it wasn't as if Simon had chosen for this to happen, he would much rather have you on his arm if he could. It was just that you had barely met Gaz's fiancé before, so didn't have enough relations with her to be a bridesmaid. You didn't hate her for it at all, it was just a bit annoying that Simon had to step up for his own role, never letting down his team for anything, war or not.
You watched as they made their way down the isle and, finally, separated to their opposing sides. The wedding was pretty, the bride looking like an angel up there with her gorgeous white dress, frilled lacing around the hems and a long train that delicately laid on the floor. The couple exchanged vows and kissed once told to, everyone cheering for them in high spirits. You tried to cover your previous feelings of jealousy and bitterness by smiling, managing to catch Simon's eye as you did this. Your smile faltered a little, and he raised his eyebrow slightly, as if he was asking 'what?' from the opposite side of the room to you. You just smiled slightly at him before getting up like everyone else to see the newly married couple out to the after party reception.
As you walked, unknowingly looking gorgeous in your light pink evening dress, a few of the supposedly single men near you gave a few looks and compliments which you begrudgingly yet kindly accepted. Not even a few moments later you felt the oh so familiar feeling of Simon's hands snaking around your waist, his larger figure guiding you instinctively.
"What did they want?" He asked instantly, already feeling protective over you.
"What? Oh, they just said they liked my dress." You say, twisting their words a little to save an argument.
"Bullshit." He replies with a flat tone, his hands still possessively round your waist.
"Don't." You say gently, almost warning him, both of you walking now into the main room where all the guests mingled and socialised whilst Gaz and his wife prepared to cut their cake.
"Don't what?" He says, almost sarcastically. Too sarcastic for your liking. So you decide to change the subject in means of retaliating.
"You two looked nice together." You say, referring to him and the bridesmaid whom he had to walk down the isle with.
"Who?" He asks, oblivious.
"Her." You say, pointing her out, she was talking to a few of the other groomsmen near the buffet table.
He laughs a little, not picking up on your subtle tone of annoyance. But when he doesn't hear you laugh, he looks at you, your facial expression neutral.
"Oh come on, love. You can't be serious." He scoffs, his hands not on you at that moment, "You know I couldn't change anything, it's Gaz's wedding for God's sake. You know I didn't choose to do this myself."
You don't say anything, deciding you didn't want to argue, watching as the cake was cut. Simon takes note of this, his eyes following yours.
"She's pretty, isn't she?" You say, admiring the bride's dress and appearance. Simon immediately picked up on a hint of self depreciation, knowing that you were probably comparing yourself to her. It wasn't a secret that you weren't always confident in yourself, but you didn't like to talk about it with Simon. He always respected your wishes, still aware of your issue though.
Simon hummed in response, not really concentrating as he wrapped his arms around you again, his head resting on your shoulder.
"You're pretty. Unreal." He mumbles into your skin, pressing a few kisses on your collarbone and neck.
You didn't really react, just whispering a small 'thank you', before pulling away slightly. He didn't force you to stay in his arms, knowing what you were like sometimes.
You both ended up talking to lots of people, socialising for a while before you decided to get on the dance floor, tipsy after downing almost 3 tequila shots and a small handful of mixed drinks before that.
Simon sat and watched you from a distance, keeping an eye to make sure no one would try anything, and to make sure you wouldn't hurt yourself by accident. He loved watching you, not in a creepy way, but just admiring how lovely you were. Your dress complimented your figure perfectly, fitting tight like a glove. He was disheartened that you put yourself down so much. He saw that you were beautiful, but he could never seem to get you to believe his words when he complimented you.
After an hour or so, Simon decided that you were getting a little too unstable for his liking, and got you off the main floor, his arms holding you steady under your ribs. He sat you down on a chair gently, asking if you had had fun as he carefully undid the straps of your heels, his hands caressing your calves as he took your shoes off and carried them for you. When you said goodbye to everyone, he carried you outside to his car and put you in the passenger seat, doing your seatbelt for you, although you protested, pouting and saying that you could 'do it yourself'.
He laughed softly at you, "Whatever you say, baby” he kissed your lips sweetly.
He got in the driver's side and started the car, to drive you both back to his apartment.
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antianakin · 2 days ago
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Someone mentioned in the notes that Obi-Wan would have already done this with Anakin by taking Anakin on after Qui-Gon's death. The idea that he might have to attempt it TWICE is very depressing.
I do think that this would be an interesting dynamic in a lot of ways because Ahsoka I think would be FAR less receptive to Obi-Wan taking on thaat role than Anakin was, and than Obi-Wan would've been to Qui-Gon. Anakin barely spent all that much time with Qui-Gon before his death, so the switch from Qui-Gon to Obi-Wan isn't quite as difficult, and Obi-Wan would've likely spent quite a lot of time with BOTH Feemor and Qui-Gon before Feemor died and was still on good terms with Qui-Gon when Qui-Gon took over his training.
Ahsoka, by contrast, hasn't even fully decided she wants to become a Jedi by the time Order 66 happens and is on somewhat rocky ground in her relationship with Obi-Wan at the time (she's relatively friendly in their last conversation, but she's still distant and she was pretty quick to jump down his throat when he didn't immediately tell her what she wanted to hear earlier). There's also the issue of Obi-Wan knowing that he's taking over for Anakin because Anakin BETRAYED THEM ALL. Depending on when in the timeline Ahsoka actually met up with Obi-Wan, Obi-Wan may not know that Anakin survived (and also depending on which canon you ascribe to about when he discovers that information), but if it's after he DOES know that, then he's taking over for a master that ISN'T ACTUALLY DEAD.
And we all know how attached Ahsoka is to Anakin and how unwilling she is to accept the truth about what he did, her guilt surrounding what she believes to be her part in Anakin's ultimate fate and how that hinders her. I don't get the feeling that Ahsoka would take this information well, and I could EASILY see her turning on Obi-Wan and blaming him for not trying to give Anakin more of a chance and for either killing Anakin or leaving him to die.
The history that Ahsoka and Obi-Wan have together and their shared connection to Anakin COULD be helpful in allowing Ahsoka to face those feelings head-on and heal from them and return down the path of becoming a Jedi, but it could also go the exact opposite way. That history and their shared connection to Anakin could become a wall between them, something that just causes more pain and misunderstandings.
It would be the MESSIEST transition of them all since it involves having to heal individually from the pain that Order 66 encompassed on its own, as well as having to get over all of Ahsoka's issues stemming from the Wrong Jedi arc, and likely having to UNDO some of the bad training Ahsoka got from Anakin in the first place before Ahsoka is even willing to admit she wants to return to being a Jedi and even once she reaches that point, she and Obi-Wan might both feel like this isn't a particularly great match anymore and that Ahsoka would be better with literally anyone else. They MIGHT choose to stick it out together, but I think they'd have to be pretty careful around each other and couldn't necessarily fall into the more typical Master/Padawan dynamic. They can't just go back to who they were, they're both irrevocably changed by what's been done to them.
There's potentially some healing that could happen between them, but my instinct is to believe that even if they DID help each other heal from Anakin's betrayal, they still can't slot into a Master/Padawan relationship and would need to start fresh with other people in order to let go of that desire to cling to the past that just continues to cause them pain. (I also think Ahsoka would probably chafe at being stuck on Tatooine the way Obi-Wan has committed himself to and needs someone more willing to go out and be more active in the rebellion.)
One of the reasons that the headcanon that Qui-Gon "repudiated" Feemor post-Xanatos really bothers me is that the characterization we get of Qui-Gon really lends itself more to the idea that he might've CLUNG to Feemor rather than pushed him away. There's zero indication that Qui-Gon has cut off all contact with the people he had relationships with prior to Xanatos (Yoda, Mace, Tahl) and one of the reasons he's so disinclined to take a new apprentice is the fear that he'll make the same mistakes he did with Xanatos and cause their fall. But if he has a whole other apprentice that he WAS successful with, wouldn't he instead cling to that proof that he's not actually a failure? Even just as a comfort?
I propose an AU where Qui-Gon actually ends up partnering with Feemor post-Xanatos in order to always have that comfort nearby. Feemor wants Qui-Gon to get back into the saddle of teaching but knows Qui-Gon well enough to understand that throwing him into that saddle won't go well for anybody, so he decides on a trickier plan and takes a Padawan of his own (his first Padawan since he became a Knight) and ask for Qui-Gon's assistance. Since Qui-Gon is partnering with him, it's inevitable that they'd end up basically sharing the responsibility of teaching any Padawan that Feemor takes, but Feemor intentionally makes sure Qui-Gon knows that he's nervous about it and will want his Master's guidance.
So instead of becoming Qui-Gon's Padawan, Obi-Wan ends up becoming FEEMOR'S Padawan. Qui-Gon sees right through all of this of course, but he can't really do anything about it and he doesn't really mind helping Feemor with a Padawan the way he would if he had sole responsibility. He bonds with Obi-Wan relatively easily and the three of them become an incredible team.
And then you can get real angsty with it and say that Feemor died before the events of TPM, so Qui-Gon obviously took over Obi-Wan's apprenticeship on his own afterwards.
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sweetbunpura · 2 days ago
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Was there a point in Yuu’s life to where she lost a fight with someone who was out of her league in boxing. To make it more interesting, make it another female boxer who had years of experience but is the same age as her? How did she take it? How did the rest of NRC found out? How did Ramshackle and Rollo found out or felt?
In her world, it was too someone in her class with more experience than her despite being the same age. Yuu got cocky and lost as a result. She wore that angry chip on her shoulder for a few months before meeting the girl again, where she lost to another fight, but got closer that time. Yuu decided that girl would be her rival from then on.
This actually spurred Yuu into working hard to best her and actually managed to win against her rival before her dad died and she left for Japan.
That story would only come up if one of the boys asked about it and Yuu would casually talk about the girl like what had happened was no big deal.
Grim: Of course it's a big deal! You lost! You can't be the greatest cause someone was stronger than you!
Yuu, making brownies: Do you guys have rivals...outside of RSA? And whatever rival you had, Rolls?
The boys and Rollo shook their head.
Fellow: Gidel and I never had any rivals, well, not ones we took personally. Living on the streets, everyone was your rival.
Gidel, nods:
Yuu: Well. How do you think I got like this? *takes a boxer pose as she quick weaves around* That speed I have isn't natural. I had to develop that to deal with her. Learning to read how you guys throw punches and the works also came from fighting her. You don't learn anything from winning all the time.
Sebek: She's right! Lilia-san would often pit Silver and myself against one another! We learned from each other and adapted out fighting styles accordingly!
Ortho: Nii-san does that....sometimes. He tends to grumble that he lost to an overpowered weapon set.
Rollo: I've never thought of it like that.
Yuu: Leona has one in Malleus. Riddle and Azul have one. Vil and Neige. Of course, Leona and Vil tried killing their rivals, but that's a story for another time.
Fellow and Rollo: They did what?
Yuu: ANYWAY. The point is, you can't learn anything from winning. You don't learn your weaknesses and it's gonna hurt when someone comes along and does know them.
Jack: Hmm. I haven't thought about it like that.
Epel: Then is that why you don't have a tell when you fight?
Yuu: Oh, nah, I picked that shit up from getting into way too many street fights with my girls.
Boys: You what?
*Timer goes off*
Yuu: Brownies are done!
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The boys are stunned that Yuu could ever lose, but Yuu is used to it so she never has any issues.
And the same would go for her older years when she's starting to pick up her boxing career. She actually lost two matches in the minor leagues to the same woman, but Yuu ended up beating the woman 3 times. Yuu had found a new rival.
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laswells-ashtray · 16 hours ago
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It's me yet again. I need me some slightly tipsy Kate and John in a lighthearted sparring match while her wife and Nik stand off to the side and gossip about their respective partners. (Again, take your time. Don't burn yourself out )
Now, because I can't describe movement for shit. I'm an internal dialogue like the Green Goblin voice or a banter typa muppet this interaction will mostly be between Nik and Laswell's wife. and I'm using my interpretation of her whom I have called Sarah if only because typing out Laswell's wife so many times makes the words stop looking real
"I cannot see this going well in the long run." Sarah Laswell, very proud wife of a certain Kate Laswell. It's not often she sees Kate get tipsy in front of anyone who isn't her, she'll indulge in a drink or two but never to the extent of this. However, it'd be dumb to assume that combining Kate, John and alcohol that Nikolai, bless that man, was paying for would lead them anywhere else.
"And yet you make no move to stop it." Nikolai doesn't bother pretending that he isn't amused, it's deeply humorous to watch two of the most fierce people he knows spar each other.
"Neither do you, don't think I can't see you staring at his ass."
"You haven't stopped looking at your wife's chest since she took off her jacket."
Okay, they're both deviants.
John is in what are probably his nicest jeans, not very suitable to a lot of movement given that they must've been painted onto his arse.
Kate is wearing a dark blue tank top that Sarah bought her absentmindedly last week and for the briefest moment, she considers just dragging Kate to the nearest closet and hoping it's soundproof.
The two move in such fluid ways that it's clear they've sparred together before. Even with a few drinks in both of them, it's the most gracious violence she's ever seen.
When John narrowly avoids Kate's elbow to the face Nikolai does little more than chuckle, he clearly isn't worried about his partner and he enjoys the smug grin on the other man's face.
"Tempted to video this." Sarah mutters, watching them both in awe. Even if her main reason for watching was to shamelessly admire her wife in all her glory, she can't deny how impressive Kate is. She throws a hit with enough force that Sarah almost pities John and she takes an equal hit with such little care. God, if there was to be a walking advertisement for lesbianism it would be Kate Laswell.
"That would involve taking your eyes off of them."
"Nevermind."
Nikolai understands, he truly does. His three favourite Johns are fucked senseless John, John when he's asleep and purring against Nik's chest like a cat and John when he's fighting just for the fun of it. Watching his biceps flex, testing the tight stitching around the sleeve of his t-shirt is a damn near biblical fucking experience.
Maybe the greatest bit of their little sparring match is how happy the two look to be there, throwing hits at each other while simultaneously muttering their banter in a way that neither Nikolai nor Sarah can hear. Carefree for once in their lives, it's no secret that their jobs weigh down on the both of them and to see them in a position so laid back, it's endearing.
"Those the socks Kate bought him for his birthday last year?"
"Да."
"Thought so, I picked them out."
"I assumed so."
"What gave it away?"
"The word cock printed on the soles." Sue her, she thought it was funny and given the expression on Nikolai's face so did he.
She watches John swipe out Kate's legs from under her and feels pride settle in her chest when the other woman immediately pulls the Englishman down with her.
She spares Nikolai a knowing glance, it would appear the both of them are going to be enjoying their nights when they head home.
Kate moves so quickly that Sarah can't help but think of one of their cats back home as she pins John to the mat, their sparring might be lighthearted but she wouldn't make the mistake of thinking Kate would let herself move.
Her muscles are taut as she holds the struggling Englishman in place, her back arched and a downright gleeful smirk on her face. Strands of hair fall into her line of vision, fallen loose from her typical bun and they frame her face in a way that can only be described as angelic. If angels were the single most fuckable woman that Sarah has ever interacted with in her entire fucking life, Jesus Christ.
As much as John is losing, he does so proudly. Who better to lose to than Kate of all people. And Nikolai isn't complaining, John's t-shirt is riding up and he's offered the perfect view of the happy trail he has every intention of running his face over later.
Their little sparring match comes to an end, with both participants walking over to their respective partners before heading to grab their shoes and the jackets that had been dumped carelessly on the floor.
It's only when Nikolai catches the two sharing a look that he realises they've been played. Kate and John are both too smart to start a friendly spar for no reason. And it isn't a coincidence that both Sarah and he are desperate to drag their partners away for the night.
They were putting on a show. Sly bastards.
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730architect · 15 hours ago
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picture your face - L4B (1.2)
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part 1
part 2 yay!! i started writing parts of this all the way back in february and finally got around to fixing it up into a completed work. This takes place the night of the october 11, 2024 episode of smackdown for context :) this will be the final part of picture your face but i will def write more l4b because i miss them dearly </3 enjoy my sweets 
── •✧• ──
wc: 7.8k
tags: liv4brutality, hatred, conflicted feelings, past liv morgan/rhea ripley, angst, cunnilingus, face sitting, light dom/sub, strap-on sex, dirty talk, it's sweet at the end
── •✧• ──
It had been exactly one week since Rhea had been laid out on her hotel bed, scrolling on her phone mindlessly when she got a notification alerting her that “yaonlylivvonce and 82,385 others liked your photo.” Rhea blinked hard, rubbing any sleep from her eyes that had collected from the long day she’d had. She couldn’t register what she was feeling. Disbelief would be an understatement, but so would confusion. Was this another one of Liv’s pranks that she had pulled with the encouragement of the rest of the Judgment Day?
Well.. if she wants to play games, let's play. Rhea thought to herself as she opened up her contacts. She scrolled until she found the one she was looking for and pressed “message”. Rhea pondered her options. What should she send? Eventually she decided on something simple. A smirk formed on her face as she finished typing out her message.
 “I guess you really were watching me.” Perfect. 
Rhea hits send and turns her phone off for the night, images of another plan brewing in the back of her mind before her body finally allows sleep to overtake it. 
── •✧• ──
Rhea stormed from the ring back to the backstage area after finally getting her hands on Liv and her pathetic posse of sorts with several referees following after her, ensuring that she would leave the premise. Fading fan chants and the enraged yells from the referees fell on deaf ears as she navigated the maze that was the Bon Secours Wellness Arena to where she had hastily parked her rental car. Her body was hot from the adrenaline but her attack wasn't enough to satisfy her ever-increasing lust for revenge. She wasn’t sure what she wanted more, her title or to make Liv suffer under her hand. 
Rhea knew better than anyone that the odds were stacked against her, especially now that Raquel has aligned herself with the one woman she hates the most in this lifetime. She needed to think smarter. All this hostility and aggressiveness hadn’t done her much good and her patience was running thin. She may have Liv beaten physically, but psychologically? That was a whole different playing field. 
She ponders her options to herself as she makes her way to the parking lot after narrowly escaping a scolding from Nick Aldis for her invasion of his show. She gets into her rental car and lays her head back onto the headrest, drumming her fingers on her thigh while taking a couple deep breaths to calm down before she drives back to her hotel. 
She eventually buckles up and goes to put the car into drive but stops abruptly when she sees the top of a familiar blonde head hurrying from between the cars in the parking lot just a few rows in front of her, followed by two taller brunettes. 
Rhea watches as Liv and Dominik are ushered into a large black SUV by the latest addition to their group, Raquel, who has been serving as a bodyguard and now apparently a chauffeur of sorts to Liv since her interference during Rhea’s match at Bad Blood. Rhea’s heart rate increases, blood rushing in her ears. She can feel herself growing more belligerent at their fright. 
She observes as Raquel climbs into the driver's seat and reverses out of the parking spot. Rhea ducks her head a bit in an effort to remain hidden from them as she debates on whether or not she should follow them to wherever it is they’re staying, thankful for the tint on her windows. She debates for a solid 15 seconds until finally putting her car in drive and peeling out behind them, making sure to keep a healthy distance in order to not blow her cover. 
Rhea discreetly followed the trio all the way back to their hotel and watches as they give up their car to the valet service as quickly as they can before they rush inside. She decides to call it a night, not in any mood to hunt them down all the way to their hotel rooms, at least not at the moment. She circles back and merges back onto the highway leading to her hotel, mind still racing. She spends the rest of the drive lost in her thoughts, in a trance over all the ways she can make Liv pay for all she’s put her through over the past 7 months. 
Rhea wanted her to suffer. She wanted to make Liv feel the same hurt and betrayal she felt while she was sitting at home, icing her shoulder for hours on end until her skin was blue and numb to the touch. The thought of Liv on her knees, begging for mercy as she looks up at her, blue eyes glassy with tears and terror has Rhea shifting in her seat; searching for at least a little bit of friction to relieve the familiar ache she felt in her gut whenever she thought about her. Rhea pulls up to the front of her hotel sloppily, tossing the keys to the attendant hurriedly before rushing inside. 
── •✧• ──
Rhea makes it to her hotel suite, deadbolting the door behind her before making a beeline for the bathroom. She tears her clothes off of her body hastily and jumps into the shower, letting the cold water run through her hair and down her back as she takes some much needed deep breaths. Rhea runs her tattooed fingers through her hair, trying to focus on the chill of the water on her skin, or anything else really. Anything to get her mind off of the women’s world champion. But despite being doused in cold water, it does nothing to cool the heat building in her core that she's been fighting since she left the arena. 
She runs her right hand down her body, her left still running through her dark hair. Tattooed fingers dancing lightly over flushed skin, feeling the groves of the goosebumps that formed beneath them. Her fingers make their way to her breast as she thumbs over her nipple piercing, feeling the sensation shoot straight to her aching cunt. Low whimpers spill from her lips as she lightly pinches and twists at the piercing, the sensation making her delirious. 
Rhea allows her head to fall back against the glass walls of the shower while her fingers trickle down her figure, allowing them to ghost over her most sensitive parts. Visions of Liv dance behind her eyelids as she slips a finger inside of herself, moaning quietly at the intrusion. Rhea shifts her hips forward slightly, jaw going slack at the feeling of her fingers curling up inside of her due to the adjustment. 
Rhea cries out Liv’s name. She imagines Liv seeing her like this, getting off at the mere thought of her. How she would drop to her knees just before Rhea could reach her climax to finish her off. Rhea lets out one last pathetic whimper as she gushes around her fingers, heart hammering in her chest while she rides out her orgasm. This wouldn’t be the first time she’s pictured Liv while touching herself and she was positive it wouldn’t be the last. Rhea finally pulls her spent fingers out of her cunt and brings them up to her lips, sucking them clean. She sighs contentedly around them as she sinks back against the glass propping her up. 
Once her heart rate had returned to normal, Rhea reached for the soap and finally began to wash her body, getting lost in the scent of tea tree and steam. She washes her hair and turns the shower off when she finishes, stepping out and grabbing a towel to dry herself off with. She hums to herself as she dries off and pumps lotion into her hands to massage into her skin. 
She had changed into sweatpants and an old band tee she wore religiously back in Australia. The fabric was soft and worn from years of use and had a bleach stain on the collar. Rhea was drying her hair with the complementary hair dryer the hotel provided when she heard a pounding on the door. She turned off the hair dryer and unplugged it, storing it away before going to answer the door. She assumed that it was just housekeeping making their rounds and asking if she wanted any clean towels. 
Rhea turned on a lamp to provide some more lighting before swinging the door open. She hadn’t checked through the peephole of who it might be, face going blank when she sees a blonde at her door. It was Liv.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Rhea demands, glancing around in case Dominik or Raquel had been hiding around somewhere ready to attack. 
Liv rolled her eyes at the hostility. She knew Rhea would be borderline impossible to talk to, she had spent at least half of their former partnership trying to get her to just make small talk with her until they had finally warmed up to each other. A whole lot of good that did her. “I’m just here to talk.” Liv replies calmly.
“‘Talk’ my ass. Do you think I’m stupid?” Rhea scoffs, still wary of a potential attack. “Why are you here? How did you even find where I was staying?”
“I asked around. Not like it was all that hard. Now are you gonna invite me in so we can talk or are you going to force me to stand out here like an idiot?” Liv retorts.
Rhea narrows her eyes at her. “How do I know that this isn’t an ambush?” 
“Rhea, if I wanted to attack you I would’ve done it already. Now suck it up and let me in.” Liv snaps, fed up with their banter. 
Rhea takes one final look around and sighs, stepping aside and granting Liv entry into her hotel. “Don’t mind the mess, I just finished showering.” Rhea comments, suddenly confused as to why she was asking her rival to disregard her mess. This was her hotel, she could do whatever she wanted. And she definitely didn’t owe Liv of all people an explanation. 
Liv disregards her statement, looking around and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, facing Rhea. She’s dressed in a sweatshirt, shorts, and tennis shoes. All neutral colors. It seems that joining the Judgment Day had stripped her of her usual fun and flirty color palette. Her blonde hair spilled over her shoulders and down her back and her tortoise Prada frames were perched on the bridge of her nose. She watches as Rhea shuts the door behind her, locking them both inside. 
The silence is deafening. It’s been over 2 years since they’ve been in the same room as one another without ripping each other’s throats out. Rhea stands in front of Liv, looking down at her with her arms crossed over her chest, making her muscular 5’10 frame look even larger. Liv swallowed hard as she looked up at her, trying to look as unfazed as possible. 
It had been one week since Rhea had posted that photo on Instagram that had her in complete shambles. Liv had spent the past seven days trying to forget it even happened, so much so that she had even deleted Rhea’s unopened text message from her phone. And she had to admit, she was doing a pretty damn good job at distracting herself. That was, until today. After Rhea’s attack, Liv found herself consumed by her yet again, this time even more. The fact that Rhea was willing to do everything in her power to find a way to get her hands on her, even if it meant crossing over to another brand for a night, it all just made Liv so lightheaded. Well, that along with the repeated blows to the head she had taken in the ring.
“So… what was so important that you needed to come to my hotel to talk to me?” Rhea questions, her glare never wavering. 
Liv looks down at her sleeve and picks at a loose thread in the fabric. “I wanted to talk to you about…” her words trail off. Rhea cocks an eyebrow at her, impatient. Liv peeks up at her through her glasses and sees her visible irritation before taking a deep breath and blurting out, “I wanted to talk to you about what happened last week.” She says the sentence so fast it almost sounds like one long word. 
Rhea’s face doesn’t change at the admission, remaining frozen in permanent annoyance. “What about last week?” she asks despite knowing exactly what Liv is referring to. She wanted to hear whatever pathetic explanation she had to offer up. 
“Listen, what happened was a complete accident. I didn’t mean to press any wrong buttons or anything, in fact that would be the last thing I would want to do.” Liv explains, eventually looking up at Rhea as she twists her hands. She seems genuinely agonized over the whole situation which Rhea finds hilarious considering it wasn’t even that big of a deal anyways. Maybe Rhea had finally knocked some sense into her during her attack earlier that day. 
“Yeah, I figured it wasn’t on purpose. I posted that caption in order to get a reaction out of you, which I knew I would and I did. So why come all the way over here to plead your case? Was it the beating I gave you earlier?” Rhea chuckles, honestly humored by the circumstances. 
Liv huffs in annoyance. “No, it was not the beating. Fuck you for that, by the way. It was the text you sent afterwards.” she admits.
Rhea nods in understanding, uncrossing her arms and sticking her hands in her pockets. “So you came all this way because I confronted you? That’s a new one.” she replies. “I still don’t understand why you’re here though. You could’ve just responded to my message. Hell, you could’ve even attacked me on RAW. So, why here? Why now?” Rhea presses, determined to get an answer.
Liv seems at a bit of a loss for words. She didn’t imagine their conversation lasting this long while still somehow remaining civil. “I don’t know. I guess I just thought it would be better to talk in person about it.” she shrugs lamely.
Rhea lets out a harsh laugh. “Talk? All of a sudden you’re focused on talking after over 2 years of hating each other? I knew you were dumb but not this dumb, Liv.” she smiles, canines flashing. She shakes her head in amusement. “Why even stalk me on social media? We beat the shit of each other every single week.”
“Since when do you regulate what I can and can’t do on my phone? Your account is public, people are going to check it. If you don't want that, maybe consider hitting the private button.” Liv snaps, her usual sharp attitude returning. 
“Oh, Liv, obviously people are going to look at my account. I just didn’t expect someone who had successfully taken quite literally everything away from me to be so obsessive.” Rhea replies, leaning down so she and Liv are eye to eye. 
Liv pushes herself off of the bed, standing before Rhea in defiance. “I think that’s really fucking rich coming from you, Rhea. Especially considering you haven’t left me or my family alone for months. But sure, I’m the one who’s obsessed.” She challenges.
“Here you go with this ‘family’ bullshit again. You know just as well as I do that they’ll never really be your family. You’ll come to learn just as I have that they’re all a bunch of conniving, selfish lowlifes who don’t care about anyone but themselves-” Rhea begins to taunt her but is cut off by a hard shove to the chest that pushes her back a mere couple of inches. Liv is nowhere near as strong as her but Rhea appreciated the effort regardless. The woman had guts, that was for sure. 
“Don’t talk about them.” Liv hisses. “You’re just jealous that they love me and not you.”
“And what have they done for you? Besides occasionally hold your hand up after a victory? That’s not love, Liv.” Rhea argues.
“Oh, but you know what is? You have pushed away and betrayed every single person who has ever loved you and you can’t even bring yourself to own up to it.” she retorts.
“Very few people have loved me, Liv.” Rhea dismisses, not allowing the harsh honesty to penetrate her heart.
“I did.” Liv professes, her eyes overtaken by sorrow and hatred after her confession. “I loved you more than anyone else in this business and what did you do? You ruined my fucking life in front of the whole world. So excuse me for wanting to rub my victories in your face.” Liv laughs harshly, despite finding nothing funny about the circumstances. She had spent so long convincing herself that she had moved on from what Rhea had done to her that she couldn’t realize that with each passing day she cared more than she ever did. 
“Do you have any idea how hard it was for me? Sitting at home, barely able to move my arm at all, being forced to watch you and Dominik every single week?” Tears brim Liv’s eyes, a sight that makes Rhea’s heart ache horribly. “Did I really mean that little to you?” she whispers, unable to stop the tears from falling down her cheeks. 
The sight in front of her makes Rhea’s chest hurt. She had always imagined having Liv a crying mess at her feet but not like this. “Please don’t cry.” she says while reaching out to brush away the fallen tear but is stopped by Liv’s hand pushing hers away. 
“Don’t touch me. You don't get to comfort me after what you’ve put me through.” Liv asserts softly, wiping away the tears herself. 
Rhea nods in defeat. She may not like Liv but she understands where she fucked up, regardless of not being able to admit it. God, why couldn’t she just fucking apologize? Maybe it really was too late. 
“If it hurt you so bad to see me with him, why even choose Dominik?” Rhea asked quietly.
Liv smiles softly before answering. “Because I wanted to hurt you, why else? Hurting you will always give me a satisfaction that no championship ever could. Yours was just a bonus.” she winks. 
“You sure you’re still not obsessed?” Rhea cocks her head to the side, looking at Liv with a smirk. 
Liv leans in even closer. “So what if I am?” she questions defiantly.
Rhea decided that she’d heard more than enough. Throwing caution to the wind, she snaked her hands behind Liv’s head and entangled them into her hair before swallowing her words into a heavenly kiss. Her movements caught Liv so off guard but she managed to move perfectly with her, melting into her touch. Liv couldn’t ignore how fucking good Rhea felt against her mouth. With Rhea’s hand behind Liv’s head, she tilted her face up so she could deepen the kiss. Liv kissed her back with the same feverish passion, gently coaxing Rhea’s mouth open with her tongue, further intensifying the kiss. Rhea groaned against Liv’s mouth, feeling the other woman’s plush lips smile against hers at the sound. 
 Liv felt an unmistakable heat flicker between her legs as Rhea’s large, calloused hands explored her lithe body. She let out a blissful sigh into Rhea’s mouth, which only increased her frantic desire even more. Rhea redirected her lips to Liv’s neck, kissing and sucking like there was no tomorrow. Liv knew that there would be marks left in the morning but she couldn’t care less, not when she had finally gotten what she had been craving for years on end. 
Rhea clumsily guided them back a few feet to the bed, refusing to part lips with Liv even after they almost tripped over each other. Rhea gently eased Liv down onto the bed, her mouth never leaving her neck. Liv’s hands had found their way under the hem of Rhea’s t-shirt and softly scratched her perfectly manicured fingers against Rhea’s muscled figure, enticing a soft groan from her. 
“Fuck, Liv…” Rhea whispered, her breath hot on Liv’s skin. 
Liv let out a soft giggle and tugged at Rhea’s top, a silent plea for her to take it off. Rhea paused her movements for a moment and complied, pulling the fabric up and over her body agonizingly slowly. Liv sat up on her elbows, making out the soft imprints of Rhea’s nipple piercings through the fabric of her bra.
Liv found herself rendered speechless, staring up at the mountain of a woman standing in front of her. Her eyes followed the lines of black ink that were embedded onto Rhea’s torso, imagining how they would taste on her tongue. Her breath quickens as watches Rhea run her tattooed fingers over the material of her bra strap before hooking onto them and pulling them off of her shoulder. Rhea tugs at her bra with one hand while the other unhooks the clasps behind her back. Rhea allows it to fall off of her figure, exposing the top half of her body to Liv like she once did in the locker room all those years ago. A moment Liv finds herself replaying in her head more often than she’d like to admit. 
“Holy shit.” Liv whispers, feeling almost lightheaded at the situation she had found herself in. She feels her face heat as Rhea chuckles at her reaction. 
“You gonna keep staring or are you gonna get to work?” Rhea teases, hands reaching up to palm at her tits, thumbs grazing over her piercings. Rhea hisses softly at the sensation and rolls her head back. 
Liv’s mouth immediately waters at the sight before her. She takes Rhea’s words as a challenge, pushing herself off of the bed and standing before her once again. She takes off her glasses and places them on the bedside table before kissing her lips softly once more as her hands find themselves gripping the flesh of her breasts. She feels the cool barbells of her piercings under her fingertips. Rhea’s breath caught in her throat at the the sensation of Liv’s hands roaming her body, her own hands gripping the blonde’s hips tightly. Her breathing grows ragged as she watches Liv trail her lips from her lips to her collarbone to finally her sternum and the flesh surrounding it. 
Rhea watches wide-eyed as Liv’s tongue laves at her breast, her fingers toying with the other in order to stimulate her as much as possible. She fights as hard as she can from allowing any noise to escape her throat, knowing that it would do nothing but inflate Liv’s ego even more but she can’t help the mewl that slips past her lips. Liv glances up at her, releasing her now swollen nipple with a pop. Her mouth forms into a satisfied smirk, kissing where her mouth just was before before asking a satisfied “you like that?” 
Rhea rolls her eyes, that same familiar annoyance she usually felt around Liv sinking back in. “Shut the fuck up and put your mouth back on me.” she says irritatedly.
 Liv cocks her eyebrow at her, the mischievous glint never leaving her eye. “I think you could ask a little nicer, don't you? Especially after all you’ve put me through?” Liv taunts with a pout, her fingers tracing hearts on Rhea’s skin. 
Rhea huffs before letting out an exasperated “please.” She lets out a groan when Liv shakes her head stubbornly, not impressed by her lack of enthusiasm. 
“Please what?” Liv doubles down on her stubbornness. 
Rhea eventually swallows her pride, which she almost chokes on before finally pleading with the blonde.
“Fine, fuck, please just touch me.” Rhea borderline begs, looking down at Liv through her eyelashes with an anguished look painted across her sharp features. 
A dangerous smile appears on Liv’s face at the sound of Rhea’s desperation. “Much better.” she hums in approval. She palms at Rhea’s breasts a bit more, feeling her skin heat beneath her hands before sliding them down her body. “This what you wanted?” Liv asked, unable to conceal her wicked smile. 
Dominance was not something Rhea was willing to give up easily and she knew that. Liv didn’t know how long she had until Rhea could regain her composure and slip back into that commanding persona she never seemed to step down from, so she knew had to make the most of the time she had. Rhea nods hopelessly. She was usually such a giver but she wanted nothing more but to be taken care of at the moment. She was positive she would return the favor later on but right now, she craved the opportunity to forfeit her ability to think for the time being. 
Liv gently lays Rhea down onto the bed, her raven hair fanning out around her head. Liv’s nimble fingers make their way to the waistband of Rhea’s sweatpants, fumbling with the waistband for a moment until she successfully unties it. Rhea lifts her hips off of the mattress so Liv can pull her pants out from under her and down her legs as she inhales the scent of the cashmere lotion Rhea had massaged into her skin earlier. Liv runs her hands up and down Rhea’s thighs, each caress creeping closer and closer to the waistband of her gray boxers. Liv allows her fingers to creep between Rhea’s legs and run along the small wet spot that had formed there. 
Rhea whimpers and shifts at the contact, causing Liv to tut at her, feigning disapproval at her squirming. Liv hooks her fingers into Rhea’s waistband and pulls them down and off of her figure, exposing her dripping cunt to the soft light of the room. Rhea’s clit peeked through her swollen folds coated in her arousal along with the piercing that adorned it. Liv grows hungry at the sight, heat beginning to pool below her hips as well. However something catches her eye. 
Liv squints in the dim lighting, her eyes taking a moment to focus since she didn’t have her glasses on anymore. She is able to make out a tattoo, no smaller than half of her thumb. The black ink had been manipulated in the shape of an eye with three dots below it. Her logo. Memories from years ago flood her brain like a tsunami. When she and Rhea had gotten so stupidly drunk together after a show that they had somehow stumbled into a shitty tattoo parlor and demanded matching tattoos. They decided on each other's logos on their bikini lines. They were so drunk that they didn't even feel the needle of the tattoo gun penetrate their skin, holding each other's hands as they got them. The exact details of that night were still hazy even now, as the Don Julio had gotten the best of them both that night but one thing remained: the tattoos served as an unspoken promise. No matter what happened, whether they loved or hated each other in the future, they would always be linked to one another. For better or for worse. Like wedding vows, almost. 
Liv traces the tattoo lightly. “You kept it?” she whispers, eyes finally meeting Rhea’s.
Rhea smiled softly, immediately understanding what she meant. “Of course I did. Why wouldn't I?” 
Liv attempts to smile but can't quite bring herself to do so. “I don’t know… I figured you would’ve had it removed or covered up or something. You know, after everything that happened.” she confesses, her eyes falling back to the tattoo. 
“That doesn’t change what we had together. I was a dick, I know that. Removing it would’ve only further cemented that.” Rhea replies, slightly ashamed to look at Liv as she says this. “Do you… do you still have yours?” she asks timidly, afraid to hear the answer.
Liv’s eyes brighten at the question as she nods. She slides her shorts and underwear off before crawling onto the bed next to Rhea. Rhea’s eyes soften at the sight of the two R’s embedded onto Liv’s skin, leaning in to kiss it softly. Her strong hands grip Liv’s hips as she distributes kisses all over her stomach. 
“I want you on my face.” Rhea professes, accent taken over with a soft rasp. 
Liv clenches at her words as her hands cup Rhea’s face. “But I wanted to take care of you.” 
“You can take care of me by shutting up and getting on my face.” Rhea grins. She doesn’t allow Liv to protest, using her strength to place her right above her face so Liv was hovering right above her mouth, just centimeters away from her lips.
Rhea flits her tongue over Liv’s now aching clit, almost in a lazy manner it was so slow. Liv let out the breath she had been holding and laced her fingers into Rhea’s hair, desperately fighting the urge to just shove her face into her dripping cunt. Luckily, Rhea understood Liv’s anticipation and began to dip her tongue into Liv’s sweet folds, the ball of her tongue piercing catching on her clit. Rhea began to use a finger to gently stretch her out. Liv’s chest heaved and her heart raced as Rhea flattened her tongue and ran it along her clit before gently enveloping it into her mouth and beginning to suck.
“Mmf- fuck.” Liv whined above the dark haired woman, tossing her head back in bliss. She felt the familiar warmth in her stomach begin to ignite and grow and spread all over her body, touching each of her nerves and setting them ablaze. Liv gripped onto her hair tighter and pushed Rhea’s face even deeper into her heat, ultimately giving in to her desires. 
Rhea let out a muffled moan both at Liv’s actions and at the taste of her, sending vibrations through Liv’s already trembling body. The sensation caused Liv to let out a choked moan as she began to babble praises that she couldn’t even verbally finish. She was a mess. She felt Rhea’s piercing swirl around her clit, enticing desperate moans from the depths of her soul to rip from her throat. Liv could feel her orgasm approaching quickly, her legs beginning to shake around Rhea’s head as a result. 
“You gonna cum for me, sweetheart?” Rhea hummed into Liv’s folds as she continued the assault with her mouth, drunk off of the taste of her. 
Liv nodded dumbly, unable to even form a coherent thought. “Yes- yeah… oh fuck, Rhea.” she babbles, hips stuttering with every grind. 
“Go ahead, baby. All on my face… every last fuckin’ drop.” Rhea slurs, her words melting into one another. She gripped the flesh of Liv’s ass tighter while holding her against her face as she intensified the motions of her mouth, determined to make her cum in ways Dominik could only dream of. 
Liv does exactly as Rhea asks, eyes rolling back into her head and jaw going slack as she cums. One of her hands released Rhea’s hair and began to strangle the bed sheets surrounding her, twisting and wrinkling them in her vice-like grip. Rhea continued to lap at Liv’s clit as she re-inserted a finger into her, pumping at a steady pace. Liv could barely think as her legs spasmed from the aftershocks of her orgasm. She clenched around Rhea’s finger, hot white lights beginning to blind her vision as Rhea continued to stimulate her. 
Rhea finally removed her fingers from her still leaking hole before Liv rolled off of her and sank into the plush pillows of the mattress. She looked over to Rhea who had brought her fingers up to Liv’s lips which of course she opened welcomingly. Rhea watched in admiration as Liv sucked her juices off of her fingers with closed eyes. She had entered a euphoric state as her mind began to settle. Liv opened her eyes after hearing the soft groan Rhea had let out at the sight of her fingers down Liv’s throat as she continued to clean her up, not wasting a single drop.  Liv nearly orgasmed again when she saw the entire lower half of Rhea's face absolutely soaked with her sweet juices. 
Rhea leans in to kiss her deeply, allowing Liv to taste herself one last time before pulling back with a smile. “Stay here.” she says, mischief blooming in her eyes. Liv nods obediently, she would probably do anything Rhea asked after an orgasm like that. She watches Rhea roll off the bed and walk into the bathroom, enjoying the view as she walks out of the room. Liv hears Rhea rummaging around her belongings softly and wonders what she may be searching for. She had almost fully recovered from her orgasm when Rhea walked back in. Liv turns to face her and feels her jaw drop when she sees what sits on her hips. 
Rhea walks in with a purple silicone strap-on attached to a black harness strapped to her hips. She pauses at the foot of the bed and nods her head at Liv, a silent is this okay? Liv’s face breaks out into a smile and nods back eagerly. 
Rhea grabs her legs and pulls her closer to the edge of the bed before climbing on. She kneels between Liv’s legs and spreads them wide, positioning the tip of her strap to just barely tease her entrance. She runs her cock up and down Liv’s slit, collecting her essence. Rhea leans down and spits right where she and Liv meet. Liv’s breath hitches when she feels it hit her pussy and looks up at Rhea with pleading eyes. 
“Please.” Liv  begs. She almost sounds like she’s on the verge of tears with how desperate she is. Rhea feels her pride swell seeing her like this.
“Please what?” she asks cockily, throwing Liv’s earlier question back at her. Her thumb slides up Liv’s thigh and settles on her clit and begins to rub slow circles, almost in an attempt to coax the answer out of her. 
Liv’s chest heaves at Rhea's ministrations, her mouth falling open slowly and her eyes glued to where Rhea stimulates her. “Fuck me. Please just fuck me… I’ll do anything.” she pleads as she rips her eyes from Rhea’s fingers and returns them to her piercing blue eyes. 
Rhea smirks in satisfaction. She removes her fingers and Liv whimpers at the loss of contact. Rhea decides to compensate by slowly pushing her cock into Liv’s aching cunt, letting out a strained exhale as she does. It takes all of Rhea’s willpower not to fuck into her like an animal at the sound of the prolonged whine Liv lets out as Rhea’s strap stretches her out. Rhea thrusts into her at a slow pace, allowing Liv to adjust to the feeling of having herself filled to the brim over and over again. 
“Faster, please.” Liv breathes. Her nails dig into the skin of Rhea’s biceps in almost painful anticipation. The arousal Rhea felt while seeing her like this couldn’t be compared to any other sentiment on the planet. The way her blonde hair unfurled around her hair like a halo, she looked like an angel. An angel that Rhea couldn’t wait to ruin. 
Rhea increases the speed of her thrusts, bottoming out in Liv’s cunt with each one. Liv’s eyes rolled into the back of her head, mouth agape with the most sinful noises spilling from her parted lips. The backs of her thighs began to ache with the constant slapping of Rhea’s skin against hers, her speed never slowing except to torture the poor woman. The squelches of Liv’s juices dripping from her weeping hole from each thrust made her head spin as they stained the sheets below her trembling body. A sheer creamy ring of white forms at the base of Rhea’s strap. How long has it been? It felt like an eternity, the way the pleasure seemed never-ending as Rhea continued to ravage her body like a woman possessed. 
Liv couldn't do anything but moan Rhea’s name and make pitiful attempts at forming sentences, her words dissolving into whimpers in a matter of seconds. It should be embarrassing, really. And part of her was embarrassed. Embarrassed that she had let mortal enemy have her like this after 2 years of denying herself what she knew would be a destructive paradise. 
“This was what you wanted, wasn’t it?” Rhea sneered down at the blonde, her voice dripping with malice yet adoration. Her thick accent overtaken by a harsh rasp, sweat forming on her brow and dampening her hair slightly. “You came all the way over here with your stupid little fucking apology prepared just to end up like this, didn’t you?” she pants. Her muscles bulged and glistened with sweat, her back adorned in angry red scratch marks, courtesy of the woman underneath her, to accompany the ink on her skin. 
Liv made another measly attempt at responding to yet another one of her degrading comments but her mind seemed to short circuit as Rhea pressed into her even more, nearly folding her in half the same way she pinned her opponents in the ring. Liv cried out in pleasure, causing Rhea to laugh at her. Her sharp canines were on display, looking as happy as ever knowing that she was the only person who could get Liv like this. Liv could lie and pretend all she wanted with Dominik but they both knew that he couldn’t hold a candle to how Rhea made her feel.
Liv looked over at the mirror beside the bed, seeing exactly how fucked out she was folded up beneath the very woman she swore that she hated, watching as she let her do whatever she wanted to her. Rhea grabbed her face with a heavily inked hand, forcing Liv’s face in the direction of the mirror. 
“My god, look at you… look at how much of a slut you are. Just a stupid, needy fucktoy for Mami to use whenever she wants, aren't you baby?” she cooed, leaning down to kiss and lick at Liv’s neck. She’ll never get over the taste of her. Sweet, tangy, carnal, hers. All hers. 
Liv’s eyes meet Rhea’s piercing blue ones in the mirror, her body aching with pleasure and fatigue but still managed to nod along pathetically to her words. “M’all yours, Mami… all yours.” she whimpered. 
Liv watches Rhea’s eyes light up at her confession. “That's right babe… this is all for you, I’m doing this all for you. Fuckin’ love this body… this pussy… this face.” Rhea says, her words slightly slurred. Her thrusts began to stutter, the piston of her hips becoming erratic as she chased her high the same as Liv did. Her strap fills Liv to the brim and stretches her out until she's delirious while the back of it hits Rhea’s clit just right with every stroke, her moans and pants mingled with hers. 
“Fuck m’gonna cum…” she whispers, not trusting her voice because she knew that it would come out as a whimper pathetic enough to rival Liv’s as she replies with a strangled “me too”, gripping onto Rhea’s shoulders for stability, biceps flexing as she holds herself up. 
“Wanna ride you.” Liv mumbles. Her words are almost impossible to understand with the way her moans overpowered them but Rhea was still able to somehow comprehend her. She nods and pulls out before being quickly shoved back against the pillows. Liv mounts her lap and sinks back down onto her cock in a frenzy, a mix of whimpers and Rhea’s name spilling from her lips uncontrollably. 
“Shit, baby… look at you. So fuckin’ worked up over me, aren’t you? Taking my cock so fucking good… like you were made for it.” Rhea praises, looking up at Liv in awe. Liv’s head was tossed back, tits bouncing as she rode Rhea fiercely. She slows her movements to grind down on Rhea’s hips. The back of the toy rubbed against Rhea’s piercing, making her almost incoherent. Rhea grips Liv’s hips and fucks up into her, matching her movements. 
“That's it baby, give it to me. Come on… show me how fucking bad you want it.” Rhea grits, kissing at Liv’s neck as she does. Liv intensifies her movements at Rhea’s words, her face contorting in pleasure. 
“Fuck, Rhea, right there… god, I’m so close.” Liv whines. Her thighs ached but she deemed it worth it with the amount of pleasure she was experiencing. 
“I know you are, baby, I know. You’re being so fucking good for me, angel. C’mon, give it to me… cum all over my cock.” Rhea purrs, her accent like velvet. 
Liv’s eyes roll back as she feels heat bloom in the pit of her belly. Her second orgasm hits her like a freight train. She cums with a loud cry, her body spasming as she curls herself into Rhea’s arms, burying her face into her neck. Rhea strokes her back and smooths her hair, kissing her shoulder softly until Liv finally stops shaking. Rhea gently lifts Liv up off of her lap just enough to pull the strap out of her and returns her to her previous position. 
They sit there for a moment, holding each other. The silence around them isn’t deafening like it once was, but is now tranquil. It lulls their racing heartbeats and sharp breaths as they melt into each other’s embrace. Liv pushes herself off of Rhea’s body, eyes heavy with fatigue and something else Rhea can’t identify. 
“You okay?” Rhea asks softly, hoping she wasn’t too rough. 
Liv nods with a gentle smile. She was more than just okay, really. She tilts her head slightly and gazes at Rhea, a realization having hit her. “You didn’t get to finish.” she points out. 
Rhea smiles, touched by her thoughtfulness. “That’s alright. I’m more than satisfied.” she reassures her. Sure, she was very close earlier but the contented bliss she felt at the moment made up for the lack of orgasm in her mind.
Liv shook her head in protest. For the first time in a long time, she felt like she actually owed Rhea something. “Please let me.” she says in a soft voice, her index finger following the tattooed lines on Rhea’s forearm. She doesn’t need to specify what she wants to do. Unspoken communication had been one of the things she and Rhea had been the best at back when they were a team.  
Rhea sees the genuine tenderness painted across Liv’s features and agrees. Liv rolls off of her before Rhea attempts to undo the harness around her hips before she’s stopped by Liv’s hands. Liv motions for her to shift down the bed and lay back completely before she unfastens the harness with ease, sliding it down Rhea’s legs and tossing it to the side of the bed. She positions herself on her stomach between Rhea’s legs, bringing them over her shoulders so they could rest there. Rhea’s cunt is coated in her own arousal accumulated from being inside of Liv for so long. Liv plants a sweet kiss right on Rhea’s clit before beginning to devour her. 
Rhea’s back arches up off the bed when she feels Liv’s tongue swirl over her swollen clit and the jewelry that embellished it. Her fingers found themselves gripping Liv’s hair, pulling lightly as she moaned her name sweetly. Liv inserts a finger into her hole and pistons in and out of her gently while sucking on her pearl. Every move she makes is meticulous. Every lick, every suck, every penetration isn’t without intention. Liv isn’t in any rush to make Rhea cum, in fact she wants her to savor it for as long as possible. However, she isn’t surprised when she does in only a matter of moments. Rhea mewls Liv’s name and nothing else as she climaxes around her fingers, like her name is the only thing she can think of when finally arriving to a state of everlasting ecstasy. She’s far quieter than Liv but Liv feels that her noises mean so much more than her own do. 
Liv remains between Rhea’s thighs, placing small kisses here and there until Rhea finally catches her breath. She crawls back up to join her where she lay and places her head on Rhea’s chest, kissing it when she does. Liv listens to Rhea’s heartbeat slowly return to its normal steady pace. This all feels so intimate. 
“You wanna spend the night?” Rhea asks quietly, her voice almost a whisper. She doesn’t really even fully understand why she’s asking, considering she and Liv technically still hate each other. But she would be an even bigger asshole if she made her cry, fucked the everloving shit out of her, and then kicked her out. The last thing she needed was to give Liv yet another reason to want her dead. 
“Sure.” Liv replies, equally surprised at both the question and her answer. She rolls off the bed and follows Rhea into her hotel bathroom, unable to ignore he dull ache in her thighs from the vigor which Rhea fucked her with. 
Inside the shower, they take turns washing each other. Nothing else in the world seemed to matter besides them in that very moment together. The warm water washed away the soap on their bodies and any residue the kisses they were unable to stop giving each other had left behind. After they had dried off, Rhea let Liv borrow another one of her shirts for the night before climbing into bed together. 
Liv nestles herself into Rhea, inhaling the smell of laundry detergent and body wash as she did so. Rhea wraps her arms around her as well and holds her close. They lay in the dark room quietly for a few minutes before Rhea breaks the silence. 
“So… are we ever going to talk about this?” she asks, a bit apprehensive of what this would mean for not only their relationship but Liv’s relationship with Dominik as well.
Liv thinks to herself for a moment, unsure of how to go about things as well. “I’m not sure, to be honest. But don’t think this means that I forgive you for everything you’ve done.�� she says.
Rhea chuckles, and the sound warms Liv’s heart more than she’d like to admit. “I know. And I still want my title back.” she responds, unable to hide the smile in her voice.
“Oh, I’m sure you do.” Liv giggles. 
They sigh, feeling satisfied and fulfilled. They both knew that this was only a matter of time coming. It was honestly a miracle they were able to hold off for as long as they did because one thing was for sure: they would never stop coming back to each other. 
── •✧• ──
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robinsegghead · 2 days ago
Text
Danny's Daycare Part 16
Masterlist
Jason had been planning on waiting to call Phantom until a bit later in the day, he had, really! But after a few hours of trying to sleep and a few dozen more muffins, Jason was bored out of his mind and fighting the urge to storm Danny’s apartment and ask him what the fuck he wasn’t telling. So instead of freaking out the only kind of normal person he’d kind of befriended (and really wanted to have the chance to get to know better) he decided to get answers from someone who’d basically offered them.
That’s how he found himself standing in the alley beside a coffee shop (the same one he’d met Danny at to discuss tutoring the boys) in full gear in the middle of the afternoon holding out a piece of paper with a summoning circle on it. The directions on the back said to just hold it out and say his name three times and he shall appear (was that real or was Phantom making a stupid ass joke?) like bloody mary or some shit.
But it worked and only a few moments after he’d said ‘Phantom’ for the third time there was a glowing, blinding light.
“I thought we were going to get coffee, eh sugar?” The ghost’s voice was strange, it sounded layered and loud and yet…. Something about it was soothing, gentle, like he was meant to hear it.
Jason snorted. “Didn’t think summoning you inside the coffee shop was such a good idea.” He looked in the general direction he thought the ghost's eyes would be but his glowing was making it difficult to see.
The ghost floated closer to the ground until he landed gently and the light emanating off of him dimmed enough to really see what he looked like. He wore knee high white boots with loose fitting black pants tucked into them (Jason did not note that the pants were tighter around his hips- he didn’t- he most certainly was not checking out this stranger), a white belt that helped break up the black pants from the black undershirt he had tucked into the pants, some silver chains hanging off his belt, a cropped black sweatshirt that hung just below his ribs with the sleeves tucked into white gloves that matched the boots, and a symbol on his chest. The symbol wasn’t something he recognized.
“Fair enough. I actually slept well for once so I’m not in desperate need of coffee like usual.” smirking, as if he’d just remembered something, Phantom side eyed Hood. “I can think of a few other things I’m in desperate need of.”
Rolling his eyes and ignoring the butterflies in his stomach (what was he- a twelve year old girl?), Hood crossed his arms. “I was unaware a king could be desperate for anything.”
Waving a hand dismissively, the Ghost chuckled. “Believe me, there are many things I desperately need as a king, one of them is to not be the king but, well, what’re you gonna do? But you didn’t call me here to talk about that, what can I help you with, hot stuff?”
“You wanted coffee, I have questions, seemed like a good enough reason.” Hood shrugged.
Phantom pretended to pout. “I’m hurt. You didn’t just call me here for a date?”
“You don’t even know me.” Hood responded flatly.
The king shrugged. “I know you’re a hero in the eyes of my people. I know you’ve got a bit of a dead thing going on.” he wiggled his fingers at Hood. “I know you’re hot.” He smirked as Hood clenched his jaw, Danny flashing through his mind for some reason. “I know if you weren’t curious about me you wouldn’t have called me here. So, I’ve got a couple of hours, and I believe I promised you coffee.”
The looks they got when walking into the coffee shop were admittedly hilarious and Jason vowed to go out a little more often as Red Hood in broad daylight just to see it. Although it might not have been the crime lord walking around midday but the glowing ghost who floated beside him that earned them so many looks. They placed their orders quickly and got their drinks even quicker.
Hood gave him an inquisitive look as he headed for the exit. “Best not to talk about all this around civilians.” He paused before offering another smirk that Hood was growing far too used to. “Unless you like when others watch.”
Jesus Christ Phantom was going to be the death of him. This time he wouldn’t come back. Would he be a ghost? If he were a ghost and Phantom the king of ghosts- 
Jason cut that line of thinking off with a firm shake of his head.
The pair made their way to a nearby rooftop and sat on the edge in silence. Only for a moment though while Phantom was drinking his tea, then he broke the silence.
“Well? Let’s hear your questions.” 
Hood didn’t know where to start. “Why are your eyes green?”
Phantom gave him a strange look. “Why… are my… eyes green? That’s what you’re going with? Why are you built like a brick shit house?”
A brick- what?
“Huh?” 
“You can ask me- the ghost king- anything you want, and you ask about my eye color?” Phantom scoffed.
Hood stared trying to figure out how to ask about their matchy glowing green eyes without outing himself. “No I- fuck, listen- I have a friend.” He finally settled on. “Something happened and he was angry and beating someone- someone who deserved it, mind you. When I pulled him offa the guy he was beating up, his eyes were green like yours. Like, glowy neon green.”
“Is this a ‘I have a friend’ situation where you're actually talking about yourself?” Phantom asked slowly and wow, okay. Sure, it was kind of, but not really either. How the fuck did Phantom manage to read him like a book?
“If I say it’s not?”
Phantom smirked. “I’d say you’re lying. But whatever.” He shrugged, setting his tea down beside him and clasping his hands together. “My eyes are green like ectoplasm- kinda like the lifeblood of ghosts in a sense. Anyone whose eyes glow green like mine have likely been around ectoplasm and- more likely- have died. Not all ghosts' eyes are green, but that’s my best guess for why this ‘friend’ of yours has glowing eyes.”
He supposed that made sense. He and Danny had both died but- “But why does it come and go?”
Phantom eyed him for a while, oddly quiet, before responding. “This friend of yours. What’s his name?”
And- okay, that wasn’t information he was sure he should give out. Danny had told him in confidence about his death and all of the ghost things that came along with it so he didn’t want to go around spreading his business. At the same time this was the ghost king- he could probably figure out who Jason was talking about if he really wanted to. But still! He didn’t want to do anything that would hurt Danny-
As if sensing Hood’s discomfort, Phantom spoke again. “I’m just going to take a guess and say it was Danny Nightingale?” When Hood neither confirmed nor denied, he continued. “Danny’s a bit of a special case. The guy is kind of dead, kind of alive. Sometimes his powers flare up even in his human form. It’s… disturbing to hear that he lost control of his powers while hurting someone, but it’s not unusual for his eyes or hair to change color. Especially if emotions are high.”
“You mean emotions being high makes him lose control?”
“Eh, not exactly. Ghosts are created through emotions. Ghosts are formed when someone dies with a lot of emotions attached to their death. That means ghosts tend to be pretty emotional, they feel things stronger than normal people and emotional pain is worse than any other kind. Emotional pain can even cause serious harm to our cores.” Phantom explained casually, as if they were talking about the weather.
That made sense. For the short time he’d known Danny he had noticed that the man seemed to feel emotions a lot more than others. He was still affected by killing the Joker despite being fine with the man's death, he flew into a blind rage when someone was going to hurt people he loved, one thing he’d noticed about Danny a long time ago was that he emoted so much more than others.
Though, Hood’s understanding of normal emoting was based on his family and they were... Probably not a good comparison for that. Either way, he liked that he could read Danny through his emotions that he had no problem displaying for anyone to see. It was refreshing for someone who hid behind a mask fifty percent of the time.
“So… if someone came back from the dead and… all they felt was… blinding rage… would that just be a normal ghost thing?” Fuck that sounded stupid.
Phantom tilted his head, considering. “Um. Depends I guess. I’m going to assume this is another ‘my friend’ situation. Do you mind if I check something real quick?” Thinking it was going to be like a phone or something, Hood nodded. “This will feel weird.” He didn’t expect the fucking ghost king to reach his hand into Hood’s chest and root around.
Hood let out a very undignified squeak as the feeling of someone poking around inside his chest overwhelmed his senses. Just as he was growing accustomed to the feeling and taking the time to examine Phantom’s face up close (Holy fuck his freckles were stars and they were glowing and when he bit his lip his fangs dug into it and this man had been flirting with Hood and he hadn’t been flirting back because of Da-) he felt the hand leave his chest and involuntarily exhaled.
“Okay, so- that’s… not great.” Phantom started, holding his chin in one hand in deep thought. “I think I know what will fix it so that’s good at least.”
“What’s wrong with me, doc? Give it to me straight, am I gonna live?” Hood asked sardonically.
Phantom rolled his eyes, amused. “I don’t know how, but you’ve been- for lack of a better word- infected with toxic ectoplasm. Not sure how, or even where you came across it but that stuffs nasty. Luckily the fix is easy enough. You need to be getting healthy ectoplasm- you aren’t going to find stuff good to fix what you’ve got going on in Gotham- But! Hanging around myself or someone like Danny Nightingale will help filter out the toxic stuff and replace it with a healthier version.”
Was that why he hadn’t been feeling the pit as strongly recently? He’d been to the manor willingly, he’d been feeling good- happy even, was that because he’d been hanging around Danny? If so, would he be able to hang around Danny more without having to explain himself? They did still need to have a conversation about what they’d talked about last time, but things had gotten busy and he hadn’t had the chance.
“Just tell Danny what I said and he won’t have a problem with you hanging around.” Phantom shrugged.
“I can’t just crash into the guy's life and make him fix me- that’s rude.” Hood growls. Who was Phantom to think he could just decide what Danny did and didn’t do? 
Giving Hood a hard look, Phantom repeated himself. “He won’t have a problem with you hanging around. He likes helping people.” He paused before thinking of something. “I’m not saying this as like, the king ordering one of his people to do something. I know Danny- personally. Not everyday a kid dies, comes back as half ghost, and becomes a teen vigilante who stops ghosts- my people- from disrupting humans’ lives. Obviously, I know Danny.”
Oh. Well that…. Kinda made sense actually. Obviously Phantom wouldn’t know every subject but if there was one subject who was keeping a bunch of other, more unruly, subjects in line, the king would start to take notice. “Like you know him or you know of him?” Hood asked.
“I know him, Hood. Is that good enough for you? Now let’s get any other questions out of the way, I wanted to enjoy our date before I have to go back.”
Hood pushed past the fact that Phantom had called this a date again (why would you push that aside you fucking dumbass a voice in the back of his head screamed, he’s hot, he’s interested in you, you’re single, what more could you fucking want?) and continued with the questions. “How’d you know to show up at the Daycare yesterday?”
“Danny obviously has one of my personal summoning cards.” Phantom shrugged. “He used it before tackling that scarecrow guy- which, by the way- your city’s rogues are fucking crazy.”
Letting out a genuine laugh, Hood agreed. “Yeah, they are.”
“Like I’ve dealt with so many weird things- but they’re ghosts with powers- scarecrow’s just a fucking weirdo! Thank god Joker’s gone cause I do not fuck with clowns.” Phantom held his hands up in a giant ‘X’.
But- wait…
“How did you know the fuckhead clown’s gone?”
Phantom froze for a millisecond. “Danny may have mentioned it.”
Danny mentioned it? The same Danny who said he didn’t want anyone to know about it? The same Danny who’d said he had barely slept since accidentally killing the Joker? He hadn’t realized that Danny was so close with the ghost king. It made a negative emotion boil in his stomach but he wasn’t sure why. Why would he be upset to learn that Danny had someone he was close to that he could tell about the terrible and traumatic things he’d gone through? 
That’s probably how Phantom knew he was talking about Danny earlier too- Danny told Phantom about beating the shit out of Miguel and Santiago’s sperm donor and the rage he felt. He told himself to be happy that Danny has someone to talk to- he and Phantom must be really close if they talked about things like murder. So why wasn’t he happy? 
“Hood?” Phantom prodded.
Snapping out of whatever daze he’d gone into, Hood focused on his date. “Just out of curiosity… did that fucker become a ghost?”
“No- fuck no.” Phantom shuddered. “He’s for sure in hell though, don’t worry, that guys never going to hurt anyone again- I’ve made sure of that.”
That made Jason feel a bit better. He tried to think of his next question but it seemed to be Phantom’s turn.
“Have you heard of the GIW, Hood?” The humor in his voice was gone, replaced with solemnity. Hood shook his head. “They are a branch of the American government whose goal is to capture, experiment on, and exterminate my people.”
“What. The. Fuck. What do you mean?” Hood growled deep enough to rival Batman.
Phantom fiddled with the sleeve around his tea cup. “I had to put strict conditions around my people visiting earth anymore because of what the GIW will do if they catch them. I didn’t know how to deal with them, I hoped… I’d hoped someone like the Justice League would see what was happening and step in before I had to. But they didn’t. And who suffers because of my patience? My people.
“I didn’t just call you here for a fun date.” Phantom offered him a smirk but it was far less playful than before. “I need help taking down the GIW before they hurt anymore of my people. If they had their way they would commit genocide with a smile and say they’d done it to better the world.”
Hood crushed his cup of coffee, spilling hot coffee onto his hands but he barely processed it. “So you need help bringing them to light?”
“No. What they’re doing is legal. I need it to be illegal and punished severely.”
“How is it legal?” Hood demanded. 
With a sigh, Phantom looked into the distance. “When I was a teenager, something called the Anti-Ecto-Acts was passed. It declares all beings who use or produce ectoplasm to be non-sentient and non-sapient beings, belonging to the government to be done with as they see fit. And they see fit to torture us.”
There was no way something like that had flown under the JL’s radar. There was no way it had flown under the BAT’S radar. Jason would have to talk to Tim and Oracle ASAP to dig up everything they could find on the GIW and these Anti-Ecto-Acts and get the fuck rid of them. Anyone who uses or produces ectoplasm would include Danny and- and him. The bats were going to be capital ‘P’ pissed. 
“I’ve never heard of them but I’ll get the bats and the JL on it immediately.” Hood promised. “Bats ain’t gonna be happy about this.”
Phantom gave him a small smile. “It’ll be nice to finally have some help. I- to be honest… I wasn’t sure when I was going to do anything about them. So many other things have been added to my plate recently and I kept pushing back the timeline to deal with them but… well frankly the attack last night has forced me to move things forward.”
“Why?” What about Scarecrow’s attack could possibly change the timeline for a government agency hellbent on committing genocide against ghosts?
Phantom bit his lip, Jason’s eyes drifting down to follow the motion before meeting his eyes again. Thank god for his helmet. “Well, apparently the attack was on the news. Everyone now knows that the daycare- Danny’s daycare- was attacked in Gotham. There are…” Phantom twisted his fingers anxiously before stilling and letting out a sharp sigh. “To put it bluntly, the GIW would like nothing more than to capture Danny again and have their way with him.”
Again? Despite Phantom’s presence, green seemed to seep into his vision. Hood felt his heartbeat pick up and heard his blood pounding in his ears. What had they done to Danny? He wanted to ask. He didn’t want to know. Who would want to hurt Danny? Danny who opened a daycare because he saw a need and filled it, who got mugged by a kid and offered to give the kid a safe place to live, Danny who’d died and used his death as a way to protect his town from ghosts.
“Not only is Danny in danger, but Santi and Miguel will be too. I can’t have that. So I’ve reached out to my team and alerted them to the situation. I’ll also be speaking with my council about this new development, but it would be a great help to have someone like Batman or Superman on our side.” Phantom rubbed a hand across his forehead tiredly.
Interesting how the straw that broke the camel's back was the danger posed to Santiago and Miguel. Hood also hadn’t missed how Phantom called Santiago, Santi, which seemed to be something only those he deemed close enough got to call him. Each passing comment painted a new picture of how close Danny and Phantom were and he wasn’t sure he liked it.
Hood discarded the cup he’d thoroughly ruined and tried to shake out the coffee that had soaked into his glove. “Listen, Phantom, I promise you, there’s no way in hell Batman knew about any of this. I’ll tell him about this and he’ll light a fire under the JL and we will get this sorted. Or- you know, I could just kill every GIW agent out there and then… problem kind of solved.”
Phantom snorted. “While I wouldn’t mind that, the laws would still be a problem. And if you- someone with ectoplasm- killed them all it would be the opposite of helpful. But I’ll keep you in mind if I ever need someone dead.”
“You can keep me in mind for more than that-” he cut himself off before he could call the KING of the INFINITE REALMS ‘doll’. It didn’t matter though, the tone was clear in his voice; he was flirting.
Whipping around to face Hood full on, Phantom squinted. It was a long dragged out moment of confusion but not discomfort as Hood wondered what Phantom was staring at. “What else should I keep you in mind for, casanova? Cause I can think of quite a few things.” He looked Hood up and down, suggestively biting his lower lip and -wow, okay, his fangs were really digging in and Hood couldn’t help but imagine what it would feel like if he dug right in-
Clearing his throat, Hood looked away- why was it so hot in his helmet? 
“Well, this has been lovely,” Phantom smirked, standing up. “But I’ve got some responsibilities to attend to and some explaining to do so I’ve got to head out. Let’s do this again sometime eh Mcdreamy? Call me.”
Before the ghost could disappear Hood grabbed his wrist. “I’ll summon you when I’ve spoken to Bats about it. We won’t let this happen to your people.”
Phantom offered a tender smile that almost reached his eyes. “Thank you.” With much less blinding light than before, Phantom disappeared, leaving Jason alone on a rooftop with a crumpled paper cup and a weight in his chest. That interaction at the end… Hadn’t that been exactly what he’d said to Danny the other day?
Oh.
Fuck.
Of course.
Hood couldn’t believe he’d been such and oblivious fucking idiot. The whole ghost thing, Danny having so much money, Phantom being a king, Danny coming to Gotham as a ‘favor’ for a friend,  Phantom saying the GIW was after Danny, Danny telling Phantom about the Joker, Phantom knowing about their flirting the other day (even if the flirting had been as Jason and not Hood)- it all made sense.
Danny Nightingale was dating Phantom the ghost king.
As he headed home for the day, Hood couldn’t help but feel a confusing amount of disappointment.
~~~~~~~~
Oh fuck- of course.
It made so much sense- Jesse had told him but he hadn’t believed her because why would he when what she was saying didn’t make any sense! But then the whole dying thing and the vibes were similar and the cookies! The cookies Jason had brought tasted so much like the ones Hood brought and it just makes so much sense that they’re dating!
Danny couldn’t believe his luck. The two hot men he’d been flirting with were already dating each other! Fucking Ancients- he’d never find someone at this rate! Just then a memory popped into his head.
Yeah one of them.
Woah- no no no Danny, time-out! You are not going to be in a throuple with the Red Hood and Jason- they probably weren’t even interested-
Well.
They had been flirting with him.
Technically Hood’s flirting had been with Phantom and Jason’s had been with Danny so maybe they were in an open relationship? 
No! He shook his head wildly. You’re way too busy for one boyfriend- there’s no universe in which you can handle two!
Though he would love to handle them. Ancients with Hood’s muscles and his thighs that could crush a watermelon and Jason’s eyes that couldn’t seem to decide if they were blue or green and both of their inclination towards leather and-
No! Bad Danny!
“You’ve got two kids to go home and explain your deadness too, stop drooling over taken men.” He grumbled to himself as he crossed the hallway and knocked on the boys’ door. Ancients, this was going to be a long conversation.
~~~~~~
“Told you he wasn’t human!” Santi shouted, pointing a finger at his brother.
Danny frowned, looking between the gloating and pouting boys. 
“I never said ‘e wasn’t not human! Jus’ didn’t care enough ta ask.” Miguel shrugged.
“Okay wait- stop.” Danny pinched the bridge of his nose. “You guys don’t… have any questions?”
“Like what?” They looked at each other and then him blankly.
“Like- I don’t know! I’m kind of dead, kind of alive, I’m the king of ghosts- you don’t have any questions?”
Danny had come back to find the boys sticking post-it notes to the wall with different theories about what had happened to Danny, who was at fault, and when he’d be back. There were some pretty wild theories and ‘is dead?’ was among them somehow, but not in the way that was true. They thought when he got summoned he might have died. He was grateful that they didn’t break down in panic but also confused at the composure they’d kept.
“C’mon man, you wouldn’t DIE die on us, I ain’t worried.” Miguel shrugged uncomfortably.
He’d swallowed back the tears that threatened to formulate if he thought too deeply about Miguel’s sudden trust for Danny and moved on. But now they were just bickering back and forth about his identity and what it meant.
“Who cares? I was right!” Santi jumped up and down before freezing. “Does this make us princes?”
Danny looked between the two of them, not daring to breathe for fear of Miguel getting upset at the implication.
“Yeah, does it?” Miguel asked quietly, not meeting Danny’s eyes.
“Uh, well.” Danny swallowed. “If you’d… If you’d like to be my sons then- yes. But you don’t have to. I would never expect either of you to want to be my kids or to make it legal or anything like that and I don’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”
“Old man.” 
He kept rambling. “I know you both have issues with your bio dad and I understand if you never want to have a dad again, I mean that’s what I did and I’m doing fine! I mean, I’m not *fine* after everything my dad did- but you know what I mean!”
“Old man.”
“And really- it wouldn’t change anything if you said you never wanted to think of me like that- I mean I kind of think of you as my kids but not in the way that I’d introduce you as my sons or anything, I’d never cross that boundary! Miguel made it clear that he didn’t want me acting like a parent so I’ve been trying to behave like a cool older brother but I’m not sure how I’m doing because I’m not one and I don’t have one and-”
“Old man!” Miguel shouted, cutting off Danny’s embarrassing ramble. Santi and Danny whipped around to look at the usually quiet and reserved boy. He met their stares with uncertainty. “I already said you were dad-shaped.”
And it was like someone filled the room with pure ectoplasm as Danny registered what he was saying. Forget cloud nine, Danny had far surpassed the troposphere and landed somewhere in space where he felt the giddiest and he couldn’t stop the smile that bloomed across his face. “Are you… are you sure, Miguel? ‘Cause I’d like to make it legal if that’s what you’re saying.”
“Yeah whatever, do what ya want old man, ain’t gonna change nothin’. You already take care of us.” He shrugged casually and left the living room, likely trying to hide from the emotions he’d expressed.
Santi watched him go, eyes wide. “I think you broke my brother.”
Letting out a sharp laugh, Danny covered his face. Fuck he didn’t know what he was doing. Guess he had to call his friends and tell them they were right. He was a dad.
Prev. Next
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mrs-barnes-rogers-writes · 2 days ago
Text
The Pull Of You - Part 7
Marvel
Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes
Soulmates - Feeling the pull between each other indicates a bond. A kiss confirms it.
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Summary: You meet Steve and Bucky on a Tuesday. Steve ignores the soulmate pull, Bucky can't. There's something about you that neither can shake, even when you're wearing one of Clint's t-shirts and your unicorn slippers. After weeks of slipping into your bed Bucky decides he can't hold back anymore. He's telling you after the mission, whether Steve is all in or not. When you don't come back from the mission, they are both ready to burn the world down and the team have the matches to help. But is everything as it seems and have they been betrayed by someone on the inside.
Chapter Summary: It's been 48 hours and the cracks are starting to show.
Chapter Warning: Mentions of injuries and being held captive.
“Look I know you don’t want me to say it but I think we should head back to the compound and regroup.” Rhodey advised cautiously.
It was at that moment that Bucky lost it. He’d done his court mandated therapy and he’d committed weekly sessions ever since. The elders in Wakanda had taught various relaxation techniques. He’d been keeping his emotions in check or so he thought. With you gone they had bubbled to the surface and now spilled over into what Sam had nicknamed the murder strut and he was headed in Rhodey’s direction. Clint and Pietro blocked his path.
“Move.” He growled.
“Not happening.” Clint replied.
“Move or I’ll move you.”
“Touch him and I’ll put a bullet in your head.” Snapped Natasha.
“Yeah, well I’ll spit it out.”
“Why didn’t you have her six?”
“Watch your damn mouth Romanoff!” Steve snapped “You know damn well how he feels about her! You saw her body cam footage. He went to her. She pushed him away.”
“And here we are. My best friend gone!”
“Rhodey might have a point. It’s been over twenty-four hours, nearly forty-eight. We’re going round in circles here. We’re the best there is. We haven’t missed anything. There are no leads, even within two miles of here. We already know they’ve removed her trackers and ditched her camera. We need to discuss other options, maybe call in some help.”
“We don’t need help.” Steve snapped “We, we need, we need.”
Steve stuttered over his words, a lump forming in his throat and tears in his eyes. Bucky’s shoulders slumped and he turned towards Steve pulling him in for a fierce hug.
Vision and Wanda stood quietly watching the back and forth between the team.
“I can feel their pain. All of them, as well as my own. This could tear us apart again.” Wanda whispered to her soulmate. She glanced up at vision to see his head tilt slightly.
“Vis? What is it?”
“I have a theory.”
Meanwhile………..
Pain is the first thing you’re aware of. Everything hurts. Your head probably hurts the most. You can’t open your eyes. You try but realise your eyelids are being held down. A weighted eye mask or tape perhaps?
A wave of panic spread over you and you soon knew that the breathing that came with panicking was not a good idea. A shooting pain went up your side. Broken ribs.
For fucks sake, you thought to yourself. You decided to get your shit together and allowed your training to takeover.
Smell. Damp. Musty. Sound. Tripping. Water. Voices and a radio but far away. Sight. Stuck. Feel. Pain. Body check. Toes not broke. Ankles. Damaged sprain or low level breaks. Also bound to each and whatever I’m on. Legs bruised. Broken cocsic. Ribs broken. One shoulder dislocated. Arms bruised. Left possibly broken. Hands. Bruised and bound. Right possibly broken. Fingers. Two on left hand broken. Neck pain. Eyes still stuck. Head injury. Possible concussion.
You sighed. Fuck my life.
You tried to separate your ankles but met resistance. The same came again with your wrists. You tried to lean forward but couldn’t move. You’d been tied repeatedly. Excessively and well too. You’d extracted agents that had been captured before and, although you couldn’t see yourself, you knew you’d been tied up more than they had. Clearly your reputation proceeded you. You could get in and out of anywhere and you taught others how to do the same.
Being good at breaking and entering, you’d become an escape expert in various ways and you could also slip out of knots, cuffs and traps but that wasn't common knowledge, and yet here you were.
How did they know to tie you up so well? Think.
They knew your skill set. They knew you. Realisation washed over you. They KNEW you.
Enjoy this fic? Fancy a cuppa? My Ko-Fi.
TAGLIST
@mcira @imdoingbetternow @mrsevans90 @blackhawkfanatic
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starryal1na · 2 hours ago
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—❀ ‧₊˚. 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒑𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅
genre: fluff, sfw
word count: 850
characters: aventurine, boothill, sunday, dr ratio
notes: this is just soft random thoughts i have about them and needed to write down, no theme in particular, dr ratio wearing glasses does things to me (*≧ω≦*), special thank to my irl friend charlotte (<3) for proofreading this ! divider credit to @/cafekitsune ♡
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─ ⊹ ⊱ Aventurine ⊰ ⊹ ─
Owning himself plenty of jewelry, such as rings or expensive watches, it makes sense that Aventurine would want to gift his lover all kind of sumptuous pieces. Over the years, he has had you displayed with pearly necklaces, the shiniest earrings and even rings with precious gemstones. Undoubtedly you loved every single one of them. Each gift Aventurine has given you were meaningful to you, as a symbol of his deep affection for you. However, you must admit you have a favorite one. A gift from one of your anniversary that you adore more than anything. It might be the most classic piece of jewelry you own in term of appearance, but it holds a special place in your heart.
The gift is a bracelet, a thin gold chain gold with a small aventurine stone at its center. Beyond the fact that it is his stone, what's making this gift even more significant is that Aventurine has one as well. While you wear yours on your left, he wears his on his right wrist below his watch. He intented for the two of you to share matching bracelets you could wear daily and that was subtle enough only the two of you could really notice it through your other extravagant jewels. Since then, one glance at the aventurine bracelet on your wrist and your heart skips a beat ♡
─ ⊹ ⊱ Boothill ⊰ ⊹ ─
Every other day, Boothill finds himself mesmerized by the way you take care of your hair. Whether you brush it, braid it, decore it with accessories, he watches from afar with the softest glare. The one reserved for you, and you only.
Today is one of those where you've decided to use the cute ribbons you have recently purchased. Sitting confortably in front of your mirror, you feel Boothill's eyes on you as you display the cute accessories on the floor. "Which color do you think I should wear today ?" "Don't know, sugar. They'd all look fudgin' nice in your pretty hair" "That's very helpful thank you, baby". Boothill snickers, his attention splits between his gun he's been checking for a few mintues, and watch you clip a white and pink ribbon to the side of your head, securing a little braid. Fork, she looks so cute like this, he thinks to himself. Oblivious to your overheating cyborg boyfriend next to you, you finish your hairstyle and spin around with a "tadaaa !" only to find him dumbfounded and an adorable flush spreading on his cheeks. "Forkin' hell ! Got myself the prettiest gurl ain't I ?" Naturally, it ended with you pampering his face with kisses and he even lets you tie ribbons in his hair as well ♡
─ ⊹ ⊱ Sunday ⊰ ⊹ ─
Dearest Sunday was always a bit of a control freak, until he met you. Well he still is one but ever since you've become a couple, his controlling demeanour has somewhat softened. Your presence clearly helped him feel loved and needed, satisfying the yearn to be someone's special one. In the intimacy of your relationship, he has grown more laid-back, to the point of allowing you to touch his precious wings.
This has become one of your favorite ways to demonstrate your love, carefully and tenderly caressing his feathers. They're so delicate you often worry you'll hurt him, but it actually helps Sunday relax. "Do not worry, my angel. Think of it as a hug. It is warm and very comforting for me" he once reassured you. Afterwards, it became a routine for the two of you. Sunday coming home from an exhausting day, you helping him rest by gently stroking his pretty wings. You even make sure to rub the base, where the tiniest feathers are, and the contented sighs he releases reassure you that you’re doing a really good job ♡
─ ⊹ ⊱ Dr Ratio ⊰ ⊹ ─
Usually, when you look at Veritas, the words circulating in your mind are often along the lines of handsome, gorgeous, sexy, serious..... angry. However in the evening, it's different. Sitting in his favorite comfy chair, he pulls you onto his his lap and puts on his glasses to read. You're aware you should focus on your own book but those glasses perched on top of his nose are seriously distracting you. This time, your mind fills with nothing but cute cute cute cute cuuuute. Obviously, he feels your stare on him –of course he does– it's not like you're being subtle anyway. Still, he pretends to act oblivious until you're the one bringing it up.
As he turns a page of his book, you shift on his lap. "Come on. Say it." His tone is serious, yet playful. "You... Cute." You blurt out, immediatly covering your face to cover the prominent blush on your face. "Darling, have you lost your ability to form full sentences ?" His cocky smirk making your blush worsen, nuzzling your head on his neck to hide it. Smiling down at your pouting and flushed face, he returns his attention back to his book. Although you go back to reading as well, he knows you’re sneaking glances at him every so often ♡
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/!\ don't steal, translate or repost this and claim it as you own /!\
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