#this is not the gif i wanted but i wanted to finish this before work bc i've been telling you i would for two days oops

[navybrat817]

https://www.tumblr.com/navybrat817/773964651350360064/gummydummy19-zanephillips-richard-armitage?source=share

Why would you do this? 😭

I just reblogged it, nonnie! But let's imagine, shall we?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader, Steve Rogers x Female Reader

Warnings: Masturbation, oral sex (referenced), unprotected sex (referenced), stalking, Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers (they're warnings, okay?)

Banner by the talented @cafekitsune

Bucky/Steve who is away on a mission and brought a piece of your clothing with them. You’ll never understand why he wants your ruined underwear so much, but you don't argue. Your lingering scent makes his mouth water while he strokes his thick cock and he wishes he was home to bury his tongue deep inside. It isn't always your underwear he brings. Sometimes it’s a shirt or cardigan. He can pretend he’s taking it off before latching onto a nipple. The little gasp you always let out when he does drives him crazy. And you aren't getting out of bed when he gets home.

Bucky/Steve who lives next door to you and one of your shirts somehow ends up in his basket. He knows it’s wrong to jerk off with the garment on his face, but he does it anyway. It smothers his grunts and moans as he imagines what it would feel like to split you open with his cock. You're such a sweetheart with your little waves and smiles, but he wants to see you cry from pleasure. Maybe the other neighbors will hear you scream his name so they know who you belong to.

Bucky/Steve who works for your dad and knows he isn't supposed to touch you, but wants to. You leave your sweater behind on accident one day after a gathering and he uses it before returning it. He moans your name and swipes his thumb over his tip, wondering if you would tease his length and balls with your tongue or if you would beg for him to fuck your throat. You’ll look so beautiful down on your knees, your cunt practically dripping with the need for him to fuck that hole, too. Your dad will have to accept that you belong to him.

Bucky/Steve who doesn't mean to start stalking you. It just happens. You need someone to look after you. So, it isn't his fault he’s currently laying on your bed, touching himself like he watched you do the night before. His fingers will stretch your pussy much better than your own, and he’ll make room for his cock. He may finish on the fabric and leave it in the middle of the bed for you as a teaser for what’s to come. Because the next time he does it'll be inside you. And you’ll thank him for it.

Nothing to see here, lovelies. Go about your business. ❤️ Love and thanks! ❤️

[meazalykov]

car girl

jill roord x reader

the dutch needs her car fixed, and luckily she found the perfect person to do it for her

warnings: there might be incorrect information about cars on here, since I am not a mechanic. I had to do some research for this one <3

the air smells of oil and warm rubber, the scent of your garage always lingering on your skin no matter how many showers you take. 

the radio hums in the background, some soft rock playing through the speakers as you apply a smooth layer of tint onto a customer’s car windows, your movements precise and careful. 

your blue levi overalls are already stained with grease from an earlier job, but you do not care. it is part of the work, part of who you are. its come with the job i guess.   

your hair is tied up in a sleek ponytail, keeping it out of your face as you concentrate. your hands, skilled and steady, press the tint firmly onto the glass, smoothing out any bubbles with practiced ease. 

just as you are finishing up, the sound of a car pulling into the lot catches your attention. you glance up, wiping your hands on a rag, and immediately recognize the blue-gray mercedes. 

vivianne.  

she steps out of the driver’s seat, stretching slightly before shutting the door. the footballer’s blonde hair is pulled into a messy bun, and she is dressed in a simple hoodie and jeans. 

it is not vivianne who captures your attention…it is the brunette stepping out of the passenger seat.  

she is tall, with piercing eyes that sweep over your garage like she is taking it all in. the woman’s posture is relaxed but confident, and she carries herself with the kind of ease that tells you she knows she is attractive. this could be a good or a bad thing but you do not know yet.

your eyes briefly drop to her toned arms, the way her fitted top clings to her, before you look away.  

vivianne smirks, immediately picking up on where your attention went.  

“y/n,” she calls, walking over. 

“this is jill.”  

you wipe your hands on your overalls again before offering jill a nod. 

“nice to meet you.”  

jill’s lips curve into a smirk. 

“i’ve heard about you,” she says, voice smooth. 

“didn’t expect you to be this—” she pauses, her eyes dragging over you shamelessly, “—fine.”  

vivianne groans. 

“jill, for fuck’s sake!”  

you let out a small chuckle, raising an eyebrow. 

“this how you always introduce yourself?”  

“only when the person is worth it.” jill grins.  

vivianne rolls her eyes. 

“anyway, we came here to you because jill’s got some issues with her car. i figured i’d bring her to the best.”  

you tilt your head, glancing toward the sleek black audi parked next to vivianne’s car. 

“what’s the issue?”  

“been overheating like crazy,” jill says. 

“i barely made it to training yesterday without it acting up.”  

you nod, already suspecting the problem. 

“bring it into the garage. i’ll take a look.”  

jill drives it in while you grab your tools, pulling on a pair of gloves before popping the hood open. steam hisses out, confirming your suspicions. vivianne and jill stand off to the side, watching as you move with confidence, checking each component. 

jill’s eyes never leave you.  

“it’s your radiator,” you finally say, pulling off your gloves. 

“it’s in bad shape. you’ll need a replacement.”  

jill sighs, running a hand through her hair. 

“great. how long’s that gonna take?”  

“a few hours,” you answer. 

“depends on how cooperative your car wants to be.”  

vivianne groans dramatically. 

“i was hoping we could go somewhere.”  

“you still can,” you tell her. 

“i’ve got this.”  

jill smirks. 

“you sure? wouldn’t want to leave you here all alone.”  

you huff a laugh, shaking your head. 

“i’ll be fine. go grab some food or something.”  

vivianne and jill exchange a look before jill shrugs. 

“guess we’ll be back later, then.”  

as they leave, jill casts one last glance over her shoulder, her smirk widening when she catches you looking. you shake your head, turning back to the car, but you cannot help the small smile that tugs at your lips. 

a few hours later, just as you are tightening the last bolt, the sound of footsteps echoes through the garage. you glance up, expecting to see vivianne and jill together, but it is just jill.  

“viv went home,” the dutch woman says, leaning against the nearby tool bench. 

“said she was tired. figured i’d come pick up my car myself.”  

“convenient,” you muse, wiping your hands again.  

jill grins. 

“very.”  

you pull off your gloves, tossing them onto the workbench. 

“your car’s good to go. radiator’s replaced, and i checked your coolant levels too. shouldn’t give you any more trouble.”  

jill nods, taking out her wallet. she pays without hesitation, but instead of just handing you the money, she also slides a small card across the counter.  

you pick it up, frowning slightly. 

“what’s this?”  

“my number,” jill says simply.  

you blink, glancing at the card, then back at her. 

“you need me to check your car again or…?”  

jill laughs, shaking her head. 

“no. i want you to take me out.”  

your eyebrows shoot up. 

“oh.”  

“yeah,” she continues, crossing her arms. 

“figured since you’re single and all, i should take my chance.”  

you huff a small laugh, shaking your head. 

“oh my days…vivianne told you, huh?”  

“yup.”  

you exhale, staring at the card for a moment before slipping it into your pocket. 

“alright, jill.” you meet her gaze, a smirk playing on your lips. 

“guess i’ll be seeing you soon.”  

jill grins. 

“can’t wait.”  

with that, she gets into her car, starts the engine, and pulls out of the garage.

you let out a breath, running a hand through your hair as you watch her leave. 

maybe working late was not such a bad thing after all.

masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Monster, Inc. 6

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as age gap, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss is an asshole, you know this. But what happens when he turns his wrath upon you? (plus!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, this reader is known as Missie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

Maestro’s is a nice place. Your dress feels even louder in the high-end restaurant. And you feel even more tired as the dim lighting softens the edges of your vision. Mr. Hansen looms there too, ushering you after the hostess as she leads you to your reserved booth. 

A man awaits you. He doesn’t stand or offer Lloyd a handshake. He simply finishes his martini and shoves the empty glass at the hostess, keeping the olive to chew on. 

“’Bout time,” he mutters at Hansen around the garnish. 

“Nice to see you too, Hugh,” Hansen nudges you ahead of him. You slide onto the curved bench silently. The man finally looks up from his glowing phone. He scoffs in your direction. “Who’s the grade school teacher?” 

“Assistant,” Hansen drops down and glides in close to you. “She’ll keep minutes.” 

“Really? Alright,” he snorts. 

“Well, you want an investment so... it’s business, isn’t it?” 

“Thought we were getting drinks and steak,” the other man he called Hugh sits back casually. 

“Missie, Ransom, Ransom, Missie. There, all introduced,” Hansen picks up the liquor menu and pets his mustache. You notice how he toys particular with the shining silver strand. 

“Nice to meet you, uh, Ransom,” you intone. 

“Yeah, sure,” he sniffs and rolls his eyes. You’re an intruder, if not an imposter. Not just at this table but in this restaurant. You should be with Peter getting your sandwich with extra pickles. 

The men are silent. You look between them as the tension rise. A waitress reappears with a fresh martini and puts it before Ransom. Hansen sits up and puts down the small menu.  

“Scotch, top shelf for me, and a vodka tonic for the lady. She’s watching those hips,” he orders. You don’t put in that you’d rather not drink. You doubt he’ll notice if you touch it or not. Besides, it’s a courtesy you don’t expect of him. 

“You going to the reunion?” Ransom asks over his martini. 

“Nah, stuff’s sad. Bunch of washed out legacies and stringy armed pledges.” Hansen retorts. 

“Mr. Big Stuff’s too cool for school,” Ransom chortles. “Imagine this, honey,” he gestures to you with his stemmed glass. “Big boss man used to be the frat’s treasurer. Penny pincher. Kept a fucking stranglehold over every penny. Wouldn’t even put out for cups for beer pong--” 

“Not all of have grandaddy’s trust fund to fall back on--” 

“Bro, don’t even. Your mom is loaded.” 

“Where do you think I got my good sense from?” Hansen counters. The server returns with your drinks and sets them down, offering a food menu. The men wave those away. Your stomach growls. 

Hansen slides the sparkling vodka in front of you. He sips his own dark liquor and you let yours sit on ice. He huffs and flicks the brim of your glass, “drink.” 

“Sir,” you lift the glass and take a tiny sip. 

“Don’t be ungrateful,” he pushes on the bottom until you gulp. You nearly gag on the bitterness of the tonic and alcohol. 

“So what’s going on here?” Ransom leans his elbows on the table. 

“Business, talk about your damn books,” Hansen demands with the snap of his fingers. 

“New imprint. So long as I can get the backers,” Ransom shrugs. “Grandfather says I have to put work in. Mom says the same.” 

“Oh, and how is the insatiable Mrs. Thrombey?” 

“Hey,” Ransom warns. 

Hansen cackles, “now that’s a woman. Tall, domineering—you know, she still got it--” 

“Would you quit?” 

“I’m having fun,” Hansen chuckles and drains his glass. He takes out his phone and Ransom sighs, nursing his own drink in agitation. 

You squirm in the roiling air. You wet your lips as you wait for them to continue. Neither of them do. 

“That’s a nice ring...” you comment, just to ease the silence. 

Ransom twists the mother of pearl band then fidgets with his hands, “thank, er...” 

“So you went to school together?” You prompt, afraid of another simmering tension. 

“Pfft, no. Do I look old?” Ransom sneers. “I only heard the stories. After. L-Dog made quite the name for himself.” 

“Hugh,” Hansen puts his phone screen down. 

“What? I’m making conversation since you can’t be bothered,” he shrugs and leans forward, focusing on you. “What’s it like working for him? He a tight ass? I mean, he’s got you here past six. I’m thinking so.” 

“She’s here to take notes,” Hansen insists. “It’s her job.” 

“Suuuuure,” Ransom drags out the word. “Still the same as you ever were, huh.” 

“Shut up.” 

“This guy, oh, everyone knew what he liked. Really chubby ch--” 

Hansen slaps the table and it jolts as he kicks Ransom underneath, “you want me to back your nepotistic venture or what?” 

Ransom laughs and reaches to rubs his shin, “you know, this could’ve been an email.” 

“Could’ve,” Hansen signals for the server. “But I prefer to deal with you with a dash of good scotch.” He taps your glass again, “finish that.” 

The waitress reappears and Hansen orders another round for the table. You deflate just a little. You hoped you might get out early enough to meet Peter, or at least call him and explain. You’re not sure your frantic apology via text made sense. 

“You’re too nice for him,” Ransom says. “And it’s me saying so.” 

“Get on with it,” Hansen sneers. 

“Fine. Erotic thrillers. Granddad’s scandalised but I told him, times are changing. People like horny with their fear.” 

You stay quiet. You’re rather content to do so. Let them chatter. You take out your phone and take notes; trying to translate his crass explanation into business speak. Hansen gets his second drink and yawns. 

The more you transcribe there blustering chirping, the more you feel that needling in your head. You shouldn’t be here. Neither of them need you here. You know it’s punishment; because you saw your boss at his weakest, but when did you ever step a toe out of line with Hansen. You’ve ever been loyal. You are sitting at that table after all. 

“Hips, if you’re not gonna drink, don’t let it go to waste,” Hansen snatches your untouched refill and slurps it down. 

Concern tickles behind your ears. He’s drinking a lot and fast. The longer you’re here, the more he knocks back, you’re assured that you won’t be catching up with Peter tonight.  

You quickly flip out of your notes app and check your conversation. You deleted Hansen’s message but not before it was read. Even so, Peter’s response is ‘understood, we’ll do another night’. You reply to him quickly 

‘Sorry again. Boss has important stuff. Maybe this weekend?’ 

You switch back to your notes as Hansen slaps his chest and stifle a belch. Ransom sucks on the gin soaked olive and shakes his head again. Looks like you’re going to be the adult at the table. 

[druidwolf21]

Part of first impression

JUST ADDING

This is not proofread, Tumblr uploaded it before it was finished so I had a mad panic to try to get this out!

Lion El'Johnson x f! Reader

Thank you all so much for your unlimited patience! Finally the next part to first impressions!

Honestly I have so many drafts for this, I want through like 4 primarch's lol

As always, 2 endings one fluffy one angsty and a separate smut waaaaaayy below

ANYWAY ENJOY

CW:smut with a warning, swearing. Q

Just lion El'Johnson being a grump

Tags: @beckyninja @lemon-russ @moodymisty @thisuserislilsilly @jaghatai-khock @echo-of-damnation @laura-naruto-fan1998 @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @astrohymn @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Let me know if you wanna be tagged or removed, I'm just going off my old tags lol!

K THANKS ENJOY

Twisting the soft snowy satin of your dress between your fingers, you edged your way through the crowd towards the burnished doors. Slipping through the huddles of gossiping bodies, you managed to reach the exit with suspicious ease. A giddy smile crept along your face as you reached out, The silvered handle feels cool under your touch as you grip and pull.

And then pull again

Crap

The locked rattled in its setting with each tug, refusing to give any leeway.

"bloody typical" you mutter, spinning on your heels and scouring the room again. "When is it ever that easy"

Your eyes fell to a small door. Carved out to blend in with the wall, it would be unnoticeable if it weren't for the trickling flow of serfs filtering through, shoulders bowed under the ladened trays they handled. Taking one last look around the gilded hall, you gathered your dress back up and swept towards it. Avoiding the lengthy shadows cast by towering men of war and following the ebb and flow of dancers, you edged ever closer, blending in seamlessly with the crowd. You became just another face before slipping silently through the cracks and easing yourself away from the gathering.

You puffed out a breath you didn't realize you'd been holding and let out a snort as you began running down the thin corridor. Laughter bubbled in your chest as you slipped further away until the raucous chatter was but a muted haze. Finally slowing your pace, you stepped into a small kitchen, your laughter calming to a content smile as you breathed in the scent of warm foods and hot wine. A few serfs smiled and greeted you by name, chuckling as you told them of your botched escape through the main doors.

The serfs quarters had always been a second home to you and, despite your station, they'd always welcomed you with open arms. An elderly woman slapped your hand halfheartedly, scolding you as you snatched hot rolls, tender meats and fruits from a platter, rolling them up in a small cloth as you perched yourself on a counter. Content, you watched them work, joking with them as they passed around you. The black iron counter felt hard beneath you, but the crackling of the fire and idle chatter made you feel warm and content as you settled in.

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"MISS MISS"

a voice carved through the bustle of the kitchen as a young girl tumbled out of another side door. You slid from your perch and caught her as she fell, propping her back upright. She looked up at you, eyes wide as she gasped for breath. "Miss it's th'lord, your brother, he's come lookin' for ya miss"

The kitchen halted, an uncomfortable silence stretched thin, before the elderly woman grasped your hand and pulled you towards her.

"everyone! back to work! And not a *WORD* that the young miss was here" she barked, ushering you towards the fireplace. With weathered fingers she slid her hands along a groove in the wall, earning a soft click as a door opened up.

"that'll take you to the gardens miss, hurry up now, or your brother will be dragging you back" she pressed your bundle of food into your hands. "Go"

You gripped the linen parcel and grinned "thanks I owe you guys"

"remember that the next time you're in trouble and stay out of my hair" she grumbled, "thought you would've grown out of this by now" offering you a tired toothless smile, she chuckled to herself before pushing you through and sealing the cold brick behind you.

Rolling your eyes, you turned and lumbered down yet another corridor.

I swear if I have to go down one more blood tunnel..

You trailed your fingers down the walls, scrunching your nose up at the damp moss that saturated it's surface. The temperature dropping with each step you took and it felt like a decade had passed in the dark echoing chill before fresh, cool air began filtering towards you. Soft silver light hit your skin as you ducked under a crumbling arch and stepped into soft grass, the smell of petrichor and dew hung sweetly in the air.

It was later than you'd thought. The sky was painted dark and splattered with twinkling stars and the faint flash of engine ignition flashed and dissipated into the distance. Dropping your gaze, you trailed your sight over the swathes of blossoming trees that stretched beneath the endless sky. Their boughs swayed gently, shuddering their leaves and tousling petals loose to dance across the breeze and into the night.

Stepping from the tunnel, you wandered towards the dappled shadows of the orchard sprawling before you, moonlight filtering through thick blankets of leaves and blossoms as you slipped amongst the trunks. The air felt calm and quiet around you as you pressed a hand against an aged peach tree, it's twisted bark marking your palms as you leant against it to pull off your heels.

Dropping your shoes into the grass you stretched and turned back towards the glittering lights of the manor. Flickering shadows as people passed the giant glass filtered down towards the grounds, but the music was distant, drowned by the gentle singing of cicadas.

" I am so dead when this is over"

Rolling your arms back, you cracked the joint, attempting to ease some tension from your limbs. 10 minutes of peace had turned into an unplanned daring escape and your brother was NOT going to be happy. But that was a problem for tomorrow, at least for now you had a chance to enjoy some alone ti-

Crack

A sharp noise cracked the silence and you jolt upright as you peered through the dark to find its source. Ears straining for any sound you stepped backwards, twisting your head as you scan around. From the corner of your eye you see it. A shadow. Heart in your throat you grasp your shoe in your fist, the pointed heel raised as you step out from the cover if the tree.

"Whoever you are, I'm warning you, I'm armed"

"Armed? Is that what you call it"

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A yell rips from your throat as you spin, lashing out at the voice. Aim true, your heel swings towards center mass until a hand finds your wrist and twists. With a cry, you drop your improvised weapon. Panic rising in your throat, you pull backwards. The bruising grip on your arm released and you stumble, before quickly finding your feet and hissing through your teeth. Fists raised in defense, you bristled as you faced the intruder.

Eyes widened as you faced a mountain of verdant green. Bone ivory silk lined the edges of rich emerald that rippled like dappled shadows in the forest around you. You cast your gaze higher, regarding the tabard, fabric whispering with each movement, heavy yet fluid as it lay draped over broad shoulders.

A grumble dragged your thoughts back as your eyes met with a silent glare. blonde locks fell about his face and a thick beard framed his strong jaw, but it was his eyes that held your attention. They were almost as vibrant as his garb; Vivid, primal, with an intensity that had every inch of your body pickling with goosebumps.

"watch it, girl" he growled, brows creased as he looked down at you.

Lion El'jonson, the emperor's first, primarch of the dark angels, towering over you with a scowl etched on his face.

You continued to stare, mouth slightly agape as your brain turns over itself.

I just tried to stab a primarch

With my shoe

Blood rushed to your cheeks and your hands flew to your mouth.

"my lord, I am so sorry I didn't realise-"

He cut you off with a large hand,brushing your apology off as he turned away.

"I don't need your apology, just keep your eyes open"

You bristled at his tone.

"excuse me?"

He paused, looking down at you over his shoulder as you clenched your hands into fists.

"I should watch where I'm going? You were out here skulking about, prowling around like something for a horror story, but IM the one who needs to keep my eyes open?"

His pupils narrowed as you pointed a small finger up at him, jabbing the air as you stepped towards him.

"you owe ME an apology for scaring me half to death"

A rumble vibrated through the air, silencing you. Your hand dropped and you huffed, refusing to pail under the growl of the primarch as he slowly turned back.

"well?"

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Lion watched as the woman stared up at him, defiance in her face as she refused to bow under his presence, her small hand jabbing the air, inches from him. Pride and curiosity battled within him as he turned back towards her. Who were you to dare talk back to him? Impudent little thing. Brave little thing.

Curiosity won out and he turned back to face you. A grumbled hammered through his ribs, his third lung pushing air through his chest.

You WILL conceed.

But still you refused to bend.

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"who do you think you are" he snarled, stepping towards you, dwarfing you beneath his shadow. His eyes glowing with moonlight and rage as he glowered at your small form. "First you strike me, then you speak back to me?"

You returned his look with one just as fiery.

"and I'll keep doing it, until you apologize back to me'

The tension stretched to breaking point, neither of you moving as the breeze trickled past you.

Finally you sighed, flicking your hair back behind your shoulder.

"fine, I'll agree to watch where I'm going IF you agree not to freak me out again"

Viridian eyes continued to bore into you, trailing from your face, down your figure before returning upwards, lingering on your lips for a moment.

He snorted and you decided that was probably all the agreement you were going to get.

Bending, you picked up your food parcel from where it had fallen, forgotten in the grass. You lowered yourself down, resting you back against a tree and tapped the soft soil next you.

"join me?"

Lion held fast refusing to move until you huffed again.

"I thought knights of Caliban were supposed to protect the weak?" you tapped the ground again. "Besides, if I didn't see you out here, what hope do I have of spotting anything else?"

Begrudgingly, he finally stepped forward and dropped to your side, grumbling as he stretched a leg out whilst bringing the other to his chest, resting his bulky forearm against his knee.

"you are a menace, woman"

You flashed a fake, shocked look across your face.

"you hardly know me!"

"and even then, I still know you too much"

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Lion blinked as you started to laugh. Not a false laugh like he heard so often from the courts, a genuine laugh, a belly laugh that had you rolling your head back.

By now, he had scared most people off, he knew he was intimidating, knew the effect he had of baselines, but you were just... sat there.

Laughing?

"wow you really know how to make a girl feel special" you gasped. He angled his head slightly, watching as you wiped your eyes and gulped for breath. Throwing a genuine smile at him, he felt a brief palpitation in his chest.

Your chest heaved and tears pricked your eyes, as he trailed his sight down, lingering on the curves of your body beneath the pale dress that clung to you as you stretched your legs out.

"you are very odd" he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers

"you have no idea"

"enlighten me then"

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You didn't know if lion was actually listening, or if he really cared, but he didn't move as you opened up your little bundle and began picking at the food, happily chatting away about the the house, the party and the events that led you to meeting him. He grunted every now and then, barely moving as you continued for what felt like hours.

And soon, he began to open up to you. slowly, at first, offering short replies as you questioned him about Caliban, the dark angels and, eventually, himself.

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Lion coughed back a smile as you stared up at him, eyes wide and glittering with starlight as you listened to his stories. not just battles and victories, Stories of sparring matches whilst he was training, eating with friends, travelling and seeing worlds, each tale had your face shining with delight, entranced. He felt...seen, by you, not at a primarch, or as a knight. As a man.

He found himself losing himself in the melody of your voice as you chirped so sweetly, asking for more.

And when you gently placed your hand on his arm, leaning in to hear his coarse voice, he knew he was gone

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"so what about you?"

"hmm?"

"obviously I know why you're here, but why are you HERE" you gestured around you.

He remained silent, eyes locked on you, stock still not even blinking. You cocked a brow at him, popping a cherry in your mouth.

"I did not like the company"

You nodded slowly.

"I get that, sometimes it's a bit much"

The moon had risen high overhead now, silvering the soft blonde of lions hair until it shone almost white. Chewing the cherry slowly, you brought the little package up, offering it up to him. He shuffled slightly, raising his hand before returning it to his knee.

"not hungry?" You queried, popping another cherry between your lips.

"most baseline foods are not prepared with primarchs in mind" he sighed, twitching his hand.

Pursing your lips, you picked up a strawberry, rolling it between your fingers. "I guess that makes sense, you'd probably squash it"

he grunted in response, watching you as you hummed, still twisting the ripe berry between your index and thumb.

"here"

You clambered to your feet, leaning over his arm as you brought the strawberry towards his lips.

"try it, it's good"

He glanced between the fruit and your face, his face unreadable. Blush started crawling up your neck and across your cheeks as you realised how you stood. your chest pressed to his forearm, leaning against him, your face so close you could see the crowsfeet near his eyes and the tired lines by his mouth.

🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁

You were so close

The faint smell of your soft perfume and the cherry syrup linger on your lips filled his nose. Lion could feel the warmth of your body against his skin and hear how your heart thrummed in your chest, pounding like a jackhammer against your ribs as you leant in close.

Closing his eyes, the strawberry was sweet and ripe on his tongue, the juice swimming in his mouth as he swallowed, his tongue reached forward to like the syrup from his lip, instead finding the soft skin of your fingertip. Both of his hearts jolted and adrenaline flooded him.

He heard your breath hitch, felt you tense at the touch, before a soft sigh left you.

🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁🦁

You hummed as you felt Lions lips meet your skin, a gentle kiss pressed to your finger tip. His eyes fluttered open as you slowly drew your hand back. You blinked up at him, a soft smile gracing you.

"see? It's good right?" You whispered.

Without warning, he lowered his face, glittering eyes catching yours just for a single second before his warmth enveloping you as his lips softly brush against your own. The kiss was surprisingly gentle, almost hesitant at first, as if testing the moment, before it deepened, the softness of the touch contrasting with his mass of twisted muscle and calloused skin. You felt yourself melt, giving into his touch as his leg dropped and his hands reached to your waist, pulling you flush against him. The taste of strawberry was sweet on your tongue as you gave in to him.

Sighing as his lips finally left yours, he took your hand and raised it to his mouth. You chest almost flush with his chest as you perched in his lap.

"my lady, it would please me, to take you to Caliban, to see it for yourself"

Go with lion

Your breath hitched in your throat at his words.

"what?"

You felt a soft rumble in his chest as he continued to hold your hand, pressing it to his lips again before replying, The rough hair on his face prickling your skin.

"I have not had company such as yours for a long time, I would loathe to give it up here, allow me to bring you with me"

Your mouth fell open as you continued to blink up at him, your jaw working furiously to try to coax words into being. Finally you swallowed dryly and nodded.

A frown snuck its way across his features at your silence, slowly releasing your hand, he trailed his palm along your waist, resting at your hip.

"your words, woman"

His tone snapped you out of your reverie and you huffed, gently hitting his firm chest.

"you can't just ask me that, then call me woman, I have a name" leaning forward, you rested your head against his chest, listening to the strong thump of his hearts through the soft sea of green silk.

"but yes."

"yes?"

"yes I will go with you, IF you promise to stop calling me woman"

A large hand grasped your shoulder and pulled you back, the other finding your chin and bringing your head up. He searched your face looking for any doubt, his pupils thin as he scoured you, peeling you back later by layer. After a moment, he nodded, relaxing as he pulled you back to his chest.

Looking back at the manor, you see the last of the light flicker and die through the windows as the first peppering of dawn filters through the black expanse of the sky. You felt Fingers tangle in your hair finding your aquilla pin, deftly tugging it out and throwing it to the side.

Lion would find something more appropriate, now that you were his

"I can do that."

Refuse Lion

"you want- to take me to Caliban?"

He nodded, the firm grip on your waist squeezing slightly as he slowly dropped your hand.

"you spent the entire night out here, just to avoid that scene" he tilted his chin towards the now quieted manor, the lights fading to a muted flicker, before expiring, leaving the building cold and quiet in the early morning light.

"you wouldn't need to hide, if you came with me"

Pushing off his chest you clambered off his lap, instantly missing the heat he radiated. You stepped into the chilled grass and wrung your hands before dragging them through your hair, ripping the golden pendant from your locks. You stare at the pin, the creeping red hues of the sky glinting from its wings.

"I can't"

"what?"

You refuse to turn as you hear the primarch rise to his feet, instead glaring down at the elongated shadow he casts over you.

"what do you mean you can't"

Annoyance prickles his voice now as he steps closer to you. Finally turning you smile up at him sadly. Reaching for his hand, you place the eagle in his palm.

"I'm sorry"

You brush past him, breaking into a sprint as you head back towards the tunnel you came from, tears flowing freely down your face. He doesn't call for you, did not chase you and when you finally turned around, he was gone.

"I'm sorry, Lion"

Smut warning below

Alternate ending to going with Lion

"To Caliban?"

He responded with a low hum, allowing his lips to trail up your arm.

"Caliban, Terra, anywhere"

His lips found your throat, peppering your skin with soft kisses, his fingers found the soft plush of your hips, as he nuzzled into you, breathing in your scent.

You tilted your chin, encouraging him on as you threw your arms around his neck.

"say yes" he huffed, nipping and sucking at your pulse point, pulling a soft pink bruise across your skin. "Say you'll come with me"

"y-yes"

"good girl" he captured your lips in another kiss, heated and hungry, the tenderness gone as he devoured the taste of you. His tongue slipped between your lips and you groaned, grinding yourself down into his groin, smirking as his grip on your hips tightened and a growl ruptured from him.

Pulling away, he tore into the knot around your neck, working the bow loose and tugging the fabric over your head, leaving your body exposed to the chill air. Tossing it aside, his mouth found your breast. rolling the nipple on his tongue, he nipped and sucked. His beard coarse against your skin. Your back arched, pressing yourself further into him as your own hands found his hair, rough between your fingers, you tugged and toyed as he left his mark on your flesh.

You jerked as his calloused thumb found your clit and you felt him smirk against your skin. His free hand found your hair and pulled your head back slightly, holding you in place as he stroked circles on your sensitive nub. His tongue traced a line between your breasts and up your throat , pausing at your jaw.

"where has that attitude gone, my lady?"

You try to respond, only a fractured cry leaving you mouth as the knot in your gut tightens and cracks, ripping through in waves of pleasure as you cum. You twitch as his thumb keeps flicking over you, overstimulated, you whine and squirm beneath his touch.

Through blurry eyes, you see his hand move to his trousers, pulling them down enough to free himself. He slowly pulls you forward, his member trailing up and down your slit, teasing, coating him before he slowly slides in.

You cry out at the stretch, inch by inch filling you in a way you couldn't imagine. Lion kissed tears from your eyes as he slowly slid in, words of praise whispered from his lip you never dreamed would come from him, alongside words that made you cunt clench around him.

"good girl"

"you like fucking your lord in the woods?"

"wanted this the whole time? To please your primarch"

"so perfect"

His hips thrust upwards, the tip of his dick pressing into the sweet spot in your center as your mind turned to mush. His hands were on you, grounding your hips as he rutted into you, your own hand bunched into his tabard, clinging to him as you bounced against him.

"l-lion, m'gonna"

He snarled as he fucked into you, his eyes feral and glinting in the light as his bit into your shoulder.

You threw your head back, crying out in pain and pleasure as you came, feeling him twitch inside you as he finished, his teeth marring your tender muscle. His chest heaved beneath you as you collapsed forward, gasping. You could hear the below of his lungs as he sucked in oxygen, coming down from his own high. Thick fingers found your spine, dancing up towards your neck before a soft kiss was placed against your head.

"I'm glad you're coming"

You looked up at him, a cheeky smirk dancing across your mouth and he rolled his eyes, his own smile partially hidden beneath his beard.

"Stop it"

"I didn't say anything, lion!"

"you didn't have to"

You returned your head to his chest, still grinning as you heart finally slowed down.

I could get used to this

[frankenstein-ate-my-left-shoe]

@steddiebingo prompt - second chances

pairing: steddie | rated: G | wc: 2,482 | on AO3: second chances

wheeee my first steddie bingo fill!! i have so many of these started and finally finished one tonight 🤗🤗 this one is also partially inspired by this tiktok!

In late October 1986, following everything, Steve and Robin move to Indianapolis.

And one night, in the early morning hours after another round of upside-down induced nightmares, Steve finds himself checking in on Robin’s soundly snoring form in her room of their small two bedroom apartment, leaving a note for her about where he’d gone (just in case), slipping on his shoes, and heading the five or so blocks to their local 24 hour grocery store.

He’s done this a couple times before; the walk helps to clear his head and by time he gets there, he can get the shopping done. Two birds with one stone. Makes his sleepless nights work for him..

The double doors whir open before him and he grabs up one of the mismatched baskets, nodding politely to the woman manning the one open register as he passes.

He wanders the aisles, drumming his fingers on the metal handle of his basket to the somewhat familiar new Fleetwood Mac song that’s echoing down on him from the speakers embedded in the stained ceiling tiles, when he rounds the corner to the most unbelievable sight.

He literally cannot believe what he’s seeing.

At first Steve thought there was no way. That the frizzy head of unkempt waves before him had to belong to someone other than the one person he wanted it to.

But no. The person’s own basket is dropped unceremoniously onto the floor to whisk their dark hair up into a bun.. and there’s no doubt.

The scarred cheek, the dark brows, the same strong nose.

It’s Eddie. The newest, most bat-chewed member of their party, who sped out of town with his uncle as soon as he could (which is more than fair, honestly; he wasn’t going to get anywhere in Hawkins), is dancing. In the middle of the bread aisle. To Fleetwood Mac.

Steve lets him continue, the new bun pulled up in time for Eddie to jump easily into one of the goofiest looking dances he’s ever seen.

He spins around dramatically to the other half of the aisle and snatches up a box of macaroni, using it as a microphone to sing along about “sweet little lies” while he waves his arms wide and steps his feet in time to the beat.

Steve lets him finish, not wanting to interrupt the highest form of art unfolding in front of him, and doesn't speak until the song fades out, “Stevie Nicks, huh?”

All of Eddie’s limbs spasm in shock, “Jesus H. Christ!!” He clutches a hand to his chest and looks down the aisle towards the interruption. “Steve?! What–”

Steve was already on the move though, scooping Eddie up into a crushing hug. “So this is where you ended up! Why didn’t you tell anyone, man?” he questions, setting him back down but letting his hands linger on Eddie’s upper arms; as if he’d disappear if he let him go. 

Eddie seems to come back into himself once his feet touch the floor, his own hands coming up to clutch onto Steve’s arms and a bright smile on his face.

“Steve? How are you— Why are you— You—” Eddie huffs then frowns, starting over again with a new smile, “You’re here!”

“I’m here!” Steve grins back, giving Eddie a shake before shuffling him back into another hug, “You’re here,” he says, softer now.

Eddie’s arms come up around Steve’s waist, squeezing him back.

“What have you been up to, man?” he asks when he finally lets Eddie go, “Besides early morning dance recitals.”

“I’m managing a Sam Goody around the corner from here, actually.” he says, picking up his discarded basket.

“Very cool, very cool.” Steve nods, “And you’re here at 3am because…?”

“I maaaayy also bartend a couple nights a week.” Eddie picks up the box of pasta he’d been using as a microphone earlier and shrugs at it, dropping it onto his basket.

“No shit? How’ve we not run into you before?

 “Beats me, Stevie,” Eddie shrugs, ”Maybe you’ve been getting drinks from those heathens at Searchlight instead of from my humble abode.”

Steve winces.

“I knew it! Traitor!”

“How could I be a traitor if I didn’t know??”

“If you were really my friend, your gut would’ve told you to stay away from Searchlight and their gargoyle of an owner.”

Steve snorts out a laugh, “Gargoyle? What’s wrong with Brad?”

Eddie’s face does something weird. “And you’re on a first name basis with him too! Double traitor!” He smiles again, but it’s flat.

“I hereby vow to never again set foot in the forbidden lands, my liege, you have my word.” Steve says, holding his hand up in fake pledge.

Eddie looks at him in bewilderment, then presses his lips together futilely, a loud raucous laugh bursting through. “Where in the..” another laugh, “Where’d you get that kind of vocabulary, Harrington?”

“The shitheads, of course,” Steve chuckles, “They managed to wrangle me into a game or two after you—”

Eddie’s smile falls back into the flat imitation of itself instantly. 

Steve clears his throat, “Uhm, mostly Erica’s games, actually. She’s got Henderson, Robin, and me contracted into playing with her ever since Starcourt, and lemme tell you man, she’s ruthless.”

He smiles fondly to himself, “Yeah she is.”

Steve watches him think back for a moment before Eddie’s gaze is on him again, studious.

“Listen, Ed, It was really nice to see you,” he says, reaching into his pocket for an old receipt he’d remembered he’d stashed there a couple nights ago, “Lemme give you my number? Maybe we can meet up again soon?” 

Eddie grins, reaches into his basket and returns with a small pad of paper, a pen shoved unceremoniously into the wire binding. “Sure Stevie.”

Steve takes the offered paper, pulling out the pen and flipping past Eddie’s grocery list to the next page.

“There, this is the number to our apartment,” He moves to hand it over, but pulls it from Eddie’s reach at the last second, “Do you promise to call?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, but concedes, straightening up and placing his right hand over his heart, “I, Theodore Wayne Munson–” 

“Theodore?”

“--Hereby swear to use the precious information given to me this day, November 9th 1986, in a timely manner.”

“Timely,” Steve scoffs as he relinquishes the notepad, “Yeah, sure.”

“A Promise is a promise Steve-o; and Munson Doctrine dictates a Promise may never be broken.” Eddie stuffs the pad and pen into his back pocket, “Though one notable Munson has never kept one in his life.”

“I bet.”

They stand there for a moment longer, before Steve steps away, “Well, the groceries won’t buy themselves, talk to you soon?”

“I promise,”

Steve’s still backing away down the aisle, “Good, you better,”

Eddie shoo-s him off with a chuckle, turning off toward the opposite end.

As soon as Steve’s turned and taken a step around the end toward the next aisle, he gets a feeling in his gut.

He gets them sometimes, pangs of worry, of anxiety; a clenching stomach that he’s just recently been told is his literal gut feeling.

And he gets one now, walking away from Eddie in this supermarket at three in the morning.

Eddie, the man who saved his brother in the upside down, Eddie, who only let Hawkins drive him out of town when his Uncle was threatened, Eddie, who would have endured it forever if it’d meant his only family left in the world wasn’t inconvenienced by the moving process.

Eddie, who it was only after he’d left that Steve’d realized the gut feeling walking though the Upside Down at his side wasn’t nerves about what was going on at all; that it was the same swoop he’d gotten after “Good Luck.”, “For your modesty, dude.”, “That Steeeve Harrington was actually… a Good Dude.”, after the goddamn “Don’tcha, Big Boy.”....

That he totally had feelings for that loser metalhead who helped save the world.

But the Munsons had gone, they were off somewhere and weren’t telling anyone where that somewhere was.

And now he’s here. A grocery aisle’s length away.. And he’s going to let him go?

No chance in hell.

So, Steve turns on his heel and jogs past the bread and pasta and, “Eddie, hey! Eddie, wait.. Wait…”

Those damn doe eyes turn to him, “Y’wanna get out of here?”

—

After a thorough ribbing for using that line to get him out of the store, Eddie agrees, puts his couple things back, and follows Steve out the front doors and down the street toward the nearby park.

“So.”

“So.”

“You got me out here, what’s up, Stevie.”

Steve huffs a laugh, his stomach doing flips even though he told it to cut it out at least six times by now, “Dunno, just had a feeling I shouldn’t let you go that easy.”

Eddie’s quiet for a moment, and Steve worries he’s already said too much.

“You really know how to make a guy feel special.”

Steve glances over at him, and is relieved to see a smile on his friend’s face. 

“We missed you,” He says, nudging him with his elbow “I missed you.”

Eddie nudges him back, “How could you miss me? You barely knew me.”

“I knew enough,” Steve says defensively, “You’re a part of the official party, Eds. But you were gone before I could get to know you more.”

“Yeah,” he scoffs, “As if you’d actually want to hang around with the Freak.”

“Stop that man; You don’t know me either, not really.” he scoffs, “Not the real Steve. Not the one who wanted to get to know you, wanted to hang out with you, be friends with you…” Steve trails off, not quite knowing if he should say what he’s been wanting to since he found out Eddie and his uncle had skipped town.. Should he risk it all right now and spill his guts? Spill why it was they told him to turn around a go back for him?

“And I’m telling you that you wouldn’t.”

“Ed—”

“You and I both know how that would go, Steve. It’s why we left in the first place. I couldn’t get anywhere in that town and neither could you. Any of you as long as you were my friend.”

That stops Steve in his tracks, watching as Eddie takes the handful of steps left to sit on a bench just off their path in the park proper.

Eddie sighs heavily as he sits down, stretching his legs out in front of him and his arms over the back of the seat, hanging his head back to look up at the stars.

Steve finally follows, sitting half-turned toward the other man.

“Can I talk now?” Steve asks after a couple breaths.

All he gets is a short shrug, so he does.

“A lot about me has changed since ‘83, Eddie. And not just because of the upside-down shit either, though that was a part of it.

“If I had a time machine, I’d do it all again, exactly the same. But I think I would have wanted to try to get to know you sooner.”

Eddie scoffs, and Steve continues, “You think I’m bullshitting, but it’s true, man; the three most important people in my life are people who, at one point, I thought–or would have thought–to be some of the most annoying types of people in existence.”

He brings his hand up into Eddie’s line of sight, counting off on his fingers, “Robin - band geek, Dustin - annoying know-it-all nerd, Max - she’s that kid that skateboards everywhere, who does that?? Just walk!”

Eddie huffs out a laugh but stifles it just as quickly, like he doesn’t want Steve to know his little speech is working. 

“Every single one of the rest of those little shits annoys the crap out of me on a daily basis, and I wouldn’t trade them for the world.”

Steve looks over and sees Eddie turn his face on his shoulder to look at him. He wonders if he should say the next part, if he even can.

“With you–” he starts, looking away from those dark eyes. “And feel free to hate me after this but I uhm–”

Shit, this is harder than it seems.

He opens his mouth again to start, but closes it again just as fast; he does it again before he feels a hand on his shoulder. 

Looking back, Eddie’s sitting up straight now, wide-eyed and expectant, “Go on..?”

Steve lets out a long breath, hanging his head with the movement of his lungs.

“When you left,” he starts again, lifting his head but not turning back, “When I found out you left, I felt hollow. Didn’t know why, and for a long time after I just rationalized it as missing the friend I could have had in you.”

He stops again, his stomach twisting tight.

“I feel like there’s a ‘But..’,” Eddie coaxes.

Steve turns, sits back, and faces Eddie. “But I talked to Robin–”

“Of course.”

“Of course,” he concedes, matching Eddie’s smile momentarily. “I talked to Robin about it and I wasn’t looking forward to a friendship with you, Eddie. I was looking forward to something more than that. Something that I didn’t know was possible until the summer of ‘85, and something I never thought I’d ever get to experience.

“And again, I didn’t even know what it was I was feeling until you were gone, when the possibility of having that with you was gone with you.” He looks away again, not wanting to see the inevitable rejection in Eddie’s face.

“The bottle to the neck, the vest, the ‘Big Boy’ thing, how I couldn't keep my eyes off your lips even though we were in the middle of literal hell..” Steve laughs sardonically, He makes the mistake of looking back at Eddie then, and finds his face flushed red in the light of a nearby streetlamp.

“I think I’ve had feelings for you for a while, Eddie. And it took you leaving for me to realize it.”

Eddie’s eyes are wide, mouth agape; his face is still tinged pink.

“Is that– is that alright?” Steve asks, looking concernedly at the rapid rise and fall of Eddie’s chest. “Are you okay?”

“‘Is that alright?’ he asks.” Eddie rolls his eyes, grinning, “‘Are you okay?’ As if I haven’t been told the best fuckin’ news in the whole damn world.”

“Reall– Really? The best. In the whole world.” he can’t keep the smile off his face despite his attempt at sarcasm.

Eddie laughs, “In this moment, it’s the best thing anyone’s ever heard in the history of forever.” 

There’s a moment’s pause, then Steve decides to be brave for the second time that morning; “Could I maybe kiss you about it?”

“Sweetheart, I’d be offended if you didn’t.”

317 was the only area code in indianapolis until 2016 btw

like i said at the beginning, i have so many of these started but i cannot for the life of me finish themm 😭 please lend me your worms!!

divider is from @saradika-graphics!

[amascomet]

Hello I was wondering if you have more stuff on the TMNT Spliced Au and how the comic is going?

Ah thank you for your interest! I’ve got so much but also literally nothing haha. End of last year was particularly rough for me so I had to take a break from working on it. Love TMNT GS but I won’t lie and say it’s not emotionally draining, wish I could beam it into all of your heads! Here’s a huge dump of random assortments I have from developing it.

COMIC UPDATES - peep the sketch for the cover, cool right?

I finished thumbnailing the first 34 pages of #1, but only one page has been fully completed. ⚰️ I’ve never made a comic before, so I’m doing a lot of learning with this. Most of the delay just comes from the fact that I love to design and I’m very crazy about details so that means I’m easily getting caught up in reading books, building little 3D sets, designing props n vehicles, ect.

I get so caught up in the visual worldbuilding cause its my favorite thing to do lol. I feel really bad when I stop working on pages in because my brain is like OK WAIT I NEED TO DESIGN THE GUNS, THE LABS, AND STOCKMANS CAR KEYS. Its really silly. I do wanna keep chipping at the comic, but at this point I've written and planned so much of the lore I kinda just wanna make it all public so I can talk about it. I'm constantly torn about it cause its like oof whats the point of making the comic if I'm just gonna talk about all the spoilers. With how this years going, I'm starting to lean into more of lemme just be free and do whatever I want!

Table of contents from the lore bible I'm still chipping away at. I'd love to just drop updates for it if that's something people would be interested in.

Alternatively, the idea of just releasing scripts for it has crossed my mind. #1 has a general outline, but I'd actually would just love to go back and detail, refine it, and drop that for now until the visuals of the comic are done.

I'm actually going to test the waters now and link a script for a scene from The Farmhouse arc I wrote a couple of months ago. If that's something people would be interested in, I'd love to know!

ART DUMP MOMENT -

Various other little development sketches and a new character or two omg

OK I KNOW THAT WAS A BIT OF A RAMBLE, FORGIVE ME! But yup thats it! TDLR; GS is in development hell and I'm waiting for ya'll to give me the greenlight to just start talking crazy. I've got multiple seasons/arcs to gush about.

[mishaapocalypsse]

I saw you were asking for requests so... Can you do a Dean/reader where the reader has a boyfriend, Dean has feelings but let's her be happy, then her bf uses her and leads her on. Dean comes to her aide makes her feel loved confesses his feelings fluffy and smutty?

|| ceilings and plaster ||

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Description: Dean knows you have a boyfriend, and yet finds himself wanting you more than ever. When he sees that your significant other is just using you and above all not being faithful, he takes it upon himself to take care of it.

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol and adult themes, language and sexual content. MINORS DNI.

You have been warned. Story continues underneath the line.

Play this song while you listen...and cry really hard...

ceilings, plaster

Your boyfriend, a man by the name of Thomas Devin Monroe, continued to hammer nails into the roof of your house as Dean, your best and closest friend helped him. You knew Dean Winchester to be a fairly hard working man, who definitely knew how to get the job done. So when your boyfriend Thomas needed help, you were so quick to call up Dean who knew a thing or two about construction and fixing things.

The only problem was--was that you could tell that Dean hated your boyfriend. Reasons that were unbeknownst to you entirely.

"Ah, fuck you man!" You heard Thomas holler as you raced outside to see what was the matter.

When you looked up you saw your boyfriend holding his thumb as Dean held the hammer and looked smug as ever.

"Hey...I told you not to put your hand there when I have the hammer and nails." Dean replied. Thomas grumbled a "fuck you" before climbing down the latter.

You calmly walked up to Thomas.

"Let me take a look at it-"

"No. You can tell your fucking asshole of a friend to leave. I already told you I didn't need help with the roof." He hissed brushing past you and into the house.

can't you just make it move faster

You looked up at Dean with your hands on your hips.

"Did you really have to go and do that?" You called up to him. Dean turned his head and craned his neck to look down at you.

"I warned him Y/N." He said. "I really did."

You shook your head with a smile, before you could hear your boyfriend calling you from inside the house.

"I think its best if you go Dean, we can pick this up more tomorrow." Dean sighed and nodded, packing up his toolbox and sliding down the ladder with finesse. He towered over you, with his usual look. His freckles were noticeably more prominent today, and besides smelling like his usual scent of blood, and smoked wood, he smelled much like whiskey and sandalwood. A scent that you favored a lot.

lovely to be sitting here with you

You were mid thought when Dean hugged you goodbye. It was initially quite amusing to see the large man having to bend down to catch you in a tight embrace.

"See you tomorrow Dean." You murmured.

"Mhm." He replied. "You too."

You're kinda cute but it's raining, harder.

A few weeks went by as Dean was on a hunt with his brother and hadn't been around lately, much like your boyfriend who was mostly not around now.

My shoes are now full of water

Thomas wasn't answering his phone when he was supposed to be picking you up from work. So instinctively you asked Dean for a ride. You were soaked head to toe while you shivered typing in Dean's number. The phone rang a couple times before he answered.

"Hey!" You beamed, your teeth chattering.

"Are you outside?" He asks outright. You answered with how you were just waiting on Thomas to come pick you up from work, and that it was just cold.

"Oh...do you need anything?" You were about to answer Dean when Thomas called.

"One second, Thomas is calling." So as you hung up the phone to answer.

"Hell-" You never got to finish your sentence when Thomas spoke.

"I think we should break up..." You froze, not really understanding at first.

"It's not working out, Y/N. I just can't be with someone like you..." He continued. "You should probably find someone else to come pick you up from work, because I am a little busy at the moment." Thomas said that last part as a half-moan and chuckle. Which was how you also came to the realization that he was currently cheating on you with someone else.

The rain poured on while you chose to hang up the phone on Thomas. Overwhelmed you sat down on the sidewalk, getting drenched to the bone. You cried hard into the wet sleeves of your coat. wiping rain water from your eyes, calling Dean back, the phone rang before going to voicemail.

You tried Sam's phone, answering on the first ring.

"What's up Y/N?" He asked, a little concerned by the tone of your voice.

"Is Dean there with you?" Sam hummed.

"No, actually, he said he was going somewhere, are you sure you're okay?" You lied and told Sam that you were okay before ending the call.

You sighed tossing your phone into your pocket and hiding your face into your hands while the rain continued to drench you. You needed a moment to take all of this in. The state of your relationship was in shambles, the weight of how overwhelmed you were hung heavy on your heart.

Before long, you heard the revving of an engine and the sound of the door shutting.

Lovely to be rained on with you

"Y/N..." You glanced up at the sound of your name. Dean's worried face came into view while you buried your face into his chest. Everything came onto you all at once.

But it's

So short and you're driving me home

Dean had gotten you comfortable in his car, driving you home. Your head leaned against the window looking out, as beads of rain water dripped from both the window outside and from you onto his seat and floor mats.

"I'm sorry, Dean... I'm ruining your seat." You cried.

He reached out to grip your thigh with his hand.

"I don't mind." He said softly. "I'm happy that you're safe." He added.

And I don't want to leave

But I have to go

You slip silently out of his car as he comes around to help you out. His warmth that emitted from him made you shiver again, looking up at him.

You kiss me in your car

His eyes eyed your lips before looking up into your eyes. You looked away before he leaned down, capturing your lips in his. You close your eyes, arms reaching to wrap around his neck as he pulled you up into his arms. You pull away...

"Dean..."

"Y/N..." He answered. "Was it too much?"

You shook your head and pulled him back in for more.

Bedsheets, no clothes

Touch me like nobody else does

Feeling Dean Winchester in between your legs was something you never even imagined, yet here he was, your best friend, making you unravel and cum onto his relentless, empowering thrusts. He had one hand on your headboard, gripping it like a vice, the other hand caging you in as he fucked you. Your nails dug into his scarred back while he hissed.

He then moved to kiss you once more, then to kissing your forehead. His hands intertwined with yours as you felt his cock twitch inside you. Dean looked spent as he tiredly thrusted more and more into you, moaning "I love you's" to you. Something you hadn't heard much lately.

"Dean..." You cried out again, reaching your climax. "Dean!" As you came, crashing down, feeling your arousal dripping lewdly. Dean was next to reach his own. You felt him give another thrust before releasing into you. Holding you tightly against him, he stared into your eyes as he did so, giving another soft kiss, another one after that, then another "I love you."

You felt hot tears come flooding before the two of you laughed as he hugged you tightly to him.

Lovely to just lay here with you...

"I've waited so long for you, Y/N...." You heard his mutter, his fingertips brushing your bare hip. Turning to nuzzle his neck with your nose, you pressed a kiss to his throat.

"Me too..."

[causeimhappinesss]

Rome's Devotion (part 2)

Warnings: Emperors Geta & Caracalla are warnings themselves, (slight?) blasphemy, non-con/dub-con, misogyny (Ancient Rome, so…)

Pairing: Geta x Christian!reader x Caracalla

Words: 4,8k

Disclaimer: English isn’t my native language (I’m french), so you can correct me if you spot some mistakes :)

Part 1

-

The morning light spills through the high windows, soft but cold against the stone walls. The scent of crushed lavender lingers in the air, mingling with the faint musk of oil and damp linen. Servants move in the chamber in quiet efficiency, dressing one another, fastening belts, securing hair. Their hushed voices weave together, rising and falling like the tide. Claudia stands beside me, her hands swift as she smooths the folds of my tunic. She pauses, eyes narrowing as she studies my face.

“You looked shaken last night. Did your task with the emperors go better?” she murmurs.

Better. The word curls in my mind, bitter and hollow.

I force my expression to remain composed. “I did as I was told,” I say.

Claudia exhales through her nose, fingers tightening briefly on my sleeve.

“That doesn’t answer my question.”

I hesitate, glancing at the other servants. Most are preoccupied with their own tasks, paying me little mind. Still, my voice drops lower.

“They like to watch me squirm,” I admit. My throat feels tight. “They enjoy it.”

Claudia presses her lips together. “They always do,” she says after a moment. “Especially when the servant is new.”

I glance down, my fingers rising to my collarbone. The gesture is instinctive, an attempt to grasp something familiar, something safe. But my necklace is gone. The Emperor Caracalla still has it. A hollow ache spreads through my chest.

A lump forms in my throat, thick and unbearable, since I doubt he will return it. Why would he, after all? The thought alone makes my stomach churn. That small piece of silver—so delicate, so personal—now rests in his hands, and there is nothing I can do. But God will forgive me. He must. He knows it’s not my fault.

“They test all of us. They enjoy taunting new servants, especially when they are young.” Claudia continues, her voice softer now. “It’s a game to them.”

“A cruel one.” I whisper.

A scoff cuts through the air. “That’s nothing new.”

I turn. Antonella stands behind us, tying a sash around her waist. Her hands move with the ease of habit, her expression unreadable. She’s at least twice my age, her years of service written in the sharp lines of her face, but also with her dark circles. She gives me a long, measured look.

“You remind me of another girl,” she mutters.

A strange unease prickles at the base of my spine and I frown. “Who? Tell me more, please.”

Antonella secures the knot at her hip with expert gestures. “The one who used to care for the emperors when they were boys. They adored her.”

My brow furrows. “Where is she now?”

Claudia shifts beside me, silent, obviously as interest as me in this story. It’s not like we have a lot of distraction here, we work, eat and sleep. Again and again, each day. Only the gossips and prayers keep us distracted.

Antonella meets my gaze and licks her cracked lips, before she shrugged.

“Dead.”

The word lands like a stone in my stomach. I struggle to swallow my spit and my eyes flutter.

“How?” I ask, probably too curious for my own good.

“She belonged to their father.” Antonella’s voice is calm, but there is something dark beneath it, something heavy. “She warmed his bed.”

The chamber feels smaller, the air thick, suffocating. My skin prickles.

“And the emperors…?” I stop myself, uncertain if I want to hear the answer.

“They were in love with her,” Antonella finishes.

A cold shiver runs through me. The two brothers—young then, but still cruel, still dangerous—longing for a woman who gave herself to their father. I picture it too clearly: their jealous glances, their whispered confessions, the unbearable weight of desire and resentment tangled into something impossible to untangle. They were too young to catch her attention and their father too present, dangerous, powerful, to try something.

“They lost her,” Antonella says.

A slow dread seeps into my bones. Claudia clears her throat. “Julia Domna, the mother, plotted the girl’s assassination.”

The emperor’s mother. The Augusta. A women known to be sweet, to love her sons… I blink and tilted my head on the side.

“Why?”

“She saw what was happening,” Antonella says simply. “And she didn’t like it. She was jealous. To Septimus Severius, the young woman wasn’t just a whore and the Augusta refused to be in the shadow of a peasant. End of the story.”

A sharp chill licks up my spine. I know little of Julia Domna, only whispers and half-truths exchanged in hushed voices among the servants. But this… This is something else. My blood runs cold and I finish dressing, rubbing my arms, as I shiver without being able to stop it.

“Then they lost their father.” She tightens the sash at her waist, her fingers lingering over the fabric. “Both in the span of a few years.”

I try to swallow the unease rising in my throat.

“And where is Julia Domna now? I don’t think I ever saw her in two months.”

Claudia shifts uncomfortably and replies in a sigh: “Still here.”

“In the shadows of her sons,” Antonella adds. “Ruling with them, even if we don’t see her often.”

The weight in my chest tightens. That story is terrible and the fact I look like this young woman twist my guts so harshly that I might feel nauseous. I almost how sick powerful and rich people could become… When Claudia touches my arm, in a silent warning, I shake off those thoughts. The message is clear. Speak carefully. Move carefully. The emperors may be the ones who play their games, but the woman who raised them is always watching.

A cold realization settles over me. I am a new piece on the board. And I have no idea whose hands will move me next.

The chamber hums with the quiet sounds of morning preparation: cloth rustling, sandals scuffing against stone, the occasional murmur of conversation. Claudia left my clothes and turns her back to me, so I can help her too.

“Were they always like this?” she questions softly, in a measuring tone.

Antonella chuckles, shaking out a linen cloth before folding it with precise movements. “Like what?”

Claudia purses her lips. Probably just like hers, my heart is beating hard in my chest, not because the rumors are always interesting… Far from it. I just know I have to stay on my guard. Rome is dangerous. Rome is perilous. Rome is bloodthirsty.

“Mischievous. Cruel.” replies my friend.

Antonella’s laugh is low, almost fond.

“Oh, they always had mischief in them. Even as boys, you could see it with their sharp eyes, sharp tongues, but they were children. Their games had little consequence back then.”

I sit on the edge of the wooden bench, adjusting the folds of my tunic. The thought of them as children, smaller, softer, without crowns or power, feels strange. I cannot picture them as anything but the men I stood before last night, eyes gleaming with amusement at my discomfort.

“They rule as they were taught to. Their father was a difficult man. A politician, but a soldier in his soul, before becoming an emperor. Harsh. After all, he killed every people needed before he took the power. And their mother…”

She lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug.

“She made sure they had ambition. No boy raised in that house could have turned out gentle.” she explained with a neutral voice.

I trace the grain of the bench beneath my fingers. “But something changed, right?”

Antonella nods. “After their servant died. After their father died. That’s when the cruelty deepened. Unfortunately, it runs in the family, it taints their blood, it rushes in their veins.”

The room is silent for a moment, except for the sounds of clothes and sandals on the floor as we all leaves our rooms to the kitchen, in which clangs fills the air with many voices.

“Losing people does that,” Claudia murmurs in the corridor.

Antonella exhales through her nose. “It does. But not everyone reacts the same way.” She glances at me, gaze steady. “You should hope they never see you as anything more than a servant.”

A shiver runs through me, though I force myself to keep still.

The conversation fades as we finish dressing, smoothing wrinkles from fabric, fastening belts. The scent of warm bread and honey drifts in from the corridor, signaling breakfast.

We eat quickly, standing by the long wooden table in the servants’ quarters. The bread is coarse but filling, the figs soft and sweet. I chew in silence, thoughts heavy in my mind.

I cannot spend another evening like last night. I will scrub floors, wash linen, even butcher meat in the kitchens, anything to avoid serving the emperors again.

Claudia nudges my arm. “Come,” she says. “Work awaits.”

I swallow my last bite and follow her out.

*

Days later

The Praetorian’s grip is firm on my arm as he leads me through the dim corridors. He told me I needed to clean some things for the Emperors. My stomach knots tighter with every step. I haven’t seen them in days, not since the other servant recovered, and I had hoped, even prayed, that I wouldn’t have to serve them again. Unfortunately, tonight, I have no choice. The guard stops before a heavy wooden door, knocking twice before, wait for a male voice to scream we can get it and then, the man pushed the door open. A wave of cloying perfume and sweat-drenched air crashes over me. The scent of wine, honey, and something more acrid lingers in the space beyond. Women slip past me as they leave the room, bare shoulders, mussed hair, half naked, breasts not even covered, the lingering sound of laughter on their lips. Some glance my way, eyes heavy-lidded with wine and exhaustion. Others don’t bother. I stand frozen for a breath, my skin burning. I know what this was: a sinful moment of pleasure… an orgy. I don’t need to see the rumpled cushions strewn across the floor or the overturned goblets to understand.

Swallowing hard, I step inside. The floor is a polished stone, streaked with the faint remnants of spilled wine and scattered remnants of food. Rich tapestries hang from the walls, their once-vibrant colors now dulled by time, fluttering lightly in the evening breeze. Lush cushions and pillows are strewn across the room in no particular order, their velvety fabrics soft but marred by the weight of too many bodies pressing down on them. In one corner, an ornate silver goblet rests on the edge of a low marble table, still half-full with wine, though the surrounding surface is cluttered with discarded fruits and the occasional forgotten piece of bread.

Caracalla lounges on a couch, a sheet slung low over his hips. His ginger curls are tousled, his bare chest marked with faint red scratches, between the light brown hairs. He watches me enter, lips curving. Geta sits near him, draped in a deep-red gown. His fingers tap lazily against the rim of a silver cup. He smirks as I lower my gaze and press my hands together in greeting.

“Augustus,” I say softly, bowing my head to both of them.

Geta chuckles. “So polite.”

I move quickly, gathering discarded plates, half-eaten figs, a roasted quail picked apart and abandoned. My hands tremble as I stack golden dishes smeared with honey and oil. The waste turns my stomach. Outside these walls, in Rome’s streets and in the whole Empire, people starve. I have known hunger, true hunger, but here, food is nothing more than another indulgence, easily discarded when appetites turn elsewhere. The brothers speak as I work, their voices thick with amusement.

“She fainted after two rounds,” Caracalla says, stretching his arms behind his head. “Weak.”

“She shouldn’t have begged for more if she couldn’t take it,” Geta replies, swirling the wine in his cup. “Ridiculous.”

Caracalla scoffs and I hear him making himself more comfortable, shifting around his sheets.

“You enjoyed it, though.”

Geta hums, taking a slow sip.

“I enjoy watching them realize they’ve miscalculated.”

Caracalla chuckles. “Like the one last week? The Hispanic girl?”

“She cried before we even touched her.” Geta clicks his tongue. “Disappointing.”

My hands clench around a goblet, breath shallow. I keep my gaze down, swallowing the nausea rising in my throat. Men are utterly disgusting, even worse when they can have everything they desire.

Caracalla shifts on the couch, exhaling in satisfaction. “What do you think, little one?”

I freeze, hesitating, and I clear my throat. Why are they even talking to me? Now, I can even feel their burning gaze on me… I could feel myself melting.

“It is not my place to speak, my Emperor.”

Geta grins. “It never is.”

Without a word, I carefully pick up the broken glass, the sharp edges pressing into my fingers as I try to gather the pieces without cutting myself. The room feels heavier now. I can feel their eyes on me ; the emperor’s presence weighs on me like a storm just before it hits.

Then, I hear it. The soft shuffle of footsteps behind me. Geta.

My heart skips. It’s as though the floor beneath me shifts, a deep, gnawing sensation of dread twisting in my stomach. I focus on the shards in my hands, on the task, trying to block out the fact that he’s coming closer.

Please, don’t come for me… Please, just leave the room with your brother… Let me work alone… I think.

But it happens too quickly. In my rush, I misjudge the glass. A sharp pain flares through my palm. A gasp escapes my lips, and I jerk back. Blood wells from the cut, hot and quick, dripping onto the floor.

Before I can react, I grasp one of the clothes I brought, a clean one, and press it hard against the wound. It’s an instinct, the only thing I can do to stop the bleeding. My fingers tremble as I hold the fabric tight.

“Stand up,” Geta’s voice commands, low and calm.

Dear Lord, stay with me.

My legs feel like stone as I force myself to rise, the pressure in my hand only making the nausea worse. I don’t dare look at him as I stand, my heart thumping erratically. Suddenly, Geta’s hand takes my wrist. His fingers curl around mine, his grip sure and unrelenting. I swallow hard, forcing my gaze down. I can’t seem to pull away from him, his presence overwhelming, suffocating, poisoning.

He lifts the cloth from my hand, studying the wound with an unsettling calm. I barely feel the sting of the alcohol as he pours it over the cut, but it burns, a cold, biting sensation. My body flinches, a breathless gasp escaping me.

“Sensitive,” Geta says, his voice light, a teasing lilt to it. He presses the cloth back against my hand, and my breath hitches.

“Brother,” he calls, his voice smooth and dismissive, “get me one of your ointments.”

Caracalla moves lazily, the sound of the jar opening sharp against the stillness. He steps forward, and for a moment, I feel like I’m trapped in the space between them. My heartbeat echoes in my ears as he takes my wrist, his touch like fire against my skin.

His fingers are warm as he applies the balm, slow and deliberate. Each stroke across my skin sends a new wave of heat rushing to my cheeks, my pulse pounding in my throat. The balm is soothing, but it’s hard to focus on the sensation when his touch feels so intimate, so invasive.

Why is my body reacting like this? Because they are monster? Yes… Yes, it must be the reason.

“Look at her,” Caracalla comments, the smirk in his voice evident even without seeing his face as I avoid looking at their faces. “Like a lamb, trembling and offered to the gods.”

I can’t hold back the blush that floods my cheeks. The words feel like a cruel mark on my skin, a reminder of how small I am in this room, how exposed I am. My throat tightens. I look down at the floor, my breath shallow, heart hammering in my chest. I wish I could disappear and take my hand back, slip out of their grasp, then escape from the weight of their gazes. But I can’t. I’m trapped in the moment, in their eyes, in this feeling of powerlessness. The blood is still there, but it feels like the least of my worries now.

I stand still, feeling the weight of the room press down on me. The smell of wine and incense still lingers in the air, remnants of the orgy that took place not long ago. My pulse quickens as I focus on the task at hand: cleaning, quietly, as if I could somehow fade into the shadows.

“Speaking of gods… ” Geta’s voice drifts over me, smooth and casual. He steps closer, his presence filling the space between us. I try not to flinch as his fingers brush against my hips. The touch is soft, deliberate, as if he’s testing my reaction. A chill runs through me, but I do my best to steady my breathing.

I can feel the blood rush to my face, my heart pounding harder with every passing second. I swallow, praying to God that nothing more will happen.

Lord God,

In this moment of darkness, I seek Your light.

Shield me from harm, from the hands of the wicked,

Guide my steps and protect my soul.

Grant me strength to endure,

And may Your Holy Spirit surround me always.

May Your angels watch over me,

In this life and beyond.

Amen.

The thought of them turning their cruelty into something more unbearable makes my guts twist. My hand instinctively reaches for my neck, but the chain is still gone. Caracalla has it, my necklace, one of my rare possessions, the only thing that made me feel connected to something beyond this place.

I’m about to look down when I hear Caracalla’s voice, a mocking chuckle.

“I believe you’re looking for this,” he says, stepping away, looking in a drawer, before he came back with the necklace dangling from his fingers. The sight of it makes my throat tighten, but I don’t dare reach for it yet. I meet his icy eyes, trying to hide the desperation that swells inside me.

He raises an eyebrow, so light, blond. “Is this what you want, little servant?” His words drip with amusement.

I nod, barely able to whisper, “Yes, please, Augustus.”

A sly smile creeps across Caracalla’s face as he turns and walks toward one of the couches, where he probably had sex with a prostitute. The sheets are still tangled, faintly stained, but they are barely distinguishable from the chaos of the night before.

“You can take it back,” he says, holding the necklace out in front of him. My heart sinks when I see what he does next. He places it on the thin sheets draped over his hips, the chain resting against his loins, hidden from view. His eyes flicker with amusement as he watches me, waiting for my reaction, while a hot blush creeps across my face. I feel the familiar sense of humiliation spread through me. The tension in my chest tightens as I hesitate, standing frozen in place. My throat is dry, my breath shallow. I’m stuck, so stuck in this power play between them.

The silence stretches on, and I feel myself shrinking under their gaze, my self-respect slipping further out of reach. It’s not just the necklace. It’s the fact that they know they can toy with me, pull my strings, make me feel smaller than I already do.

I wish I could run away, but I can’t. I stand there, waiting for their next move.

I stand frozen, my heart hammering in my chest, eyes focused on the necklace resting on the thin sheets. Caracalla’s gaze never leaves me as he watches my every movement, waiting for something. His voice breaks the silence, low and threatening.

“Take it!” he commands, the sharpness in his tone sending a chill down my spine.

At first, I don’t move, the weight of his words pressing on me like a physical force. Alas, I know better than to disobey. Slowly, I take a breath, my hands trembling as I take a cautious step forward. I force myself not to look directly at him, focusing on the necklace instead, even if it feels like his eyes are burning into me. I reach for it, but as my fingers brush the chain, Caracalla grabs my wrist, the grip firm and unyielding. His voice drips with authority.

“Not so fast,” he sneers, forcing my hand to move slower, making me feel every second of this humiliation. I finally close my fingers around the cool metal, as I can feel his manhood hardening, and I pull it toward me, feeling the weight of the object in my palm. He releases my wrist with a slight smirk, as if this is some victory for him.

This is disgusting, a twisted game… Antonella was right. So right. I’m in deep troubles now. Why couldn’t I play sick when the Pretorian guard went to fetch me?

I quickly step back, my mind racing with conflicting thoughts. I want to leave, to escape this room, but I can’t. And then, before I can move further, my back collides with something solid. I gasp, my heart skipping a beat as I realize it’s Emperor Geta.

He stands behind me, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from his body. His fingers graze my shoulder, light, almost mocking, before they move upward, brushing through my hair. I don’t dare move, my body stiffening under his touch. In my mind, I’m pleading for God to help me, to give me the strength to endure this.

Geta leans in slightly, inhaling deeply, as if savoring the scent of my hair. I shudder but stay still.

“You should be ashamed,” he says softly, his voice full of something I can’t quite place. Amusement? Disdain? “A filthy Christian, when you look like the Goddess Flora herself.”

I bite my lip, my chest tight with the weight of his words. I don’t respond. What could I say? What would be the point? I simply stand there, praying silently in my head. His hand shifts, a single finger slipping beneath my chin, tilting my face upward.

“Look at my brother, little lamb,” he murmurs, his finger still pressing gently on my chin, guiding me to face Caracalla.

I want to look away, but I can’t. I try to avoid his brother’s eyes, instead focusing on his lower face, but his gaze is insistent, drawing me in despite myself.

I stand in silence as they watch me, their eyes sharp and calculating, waiting for me to respond. The tension in the room is thick, suffocating. Caracalla’s voice breaks through first, smooth and mocking, the edges laced with amusement.

“So, why are you a Christian, then?” he asks, leaning forward slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. “Is it by birth, or did some…  conversation with foolish people seep into your mind?”

My heart race, my breath caught in my throat. Their eyes feel like daggers, slicing through me, probing for weaknesses. The words escape me in a stutter, my voice shaky despite myself.

“I… I found God when I…  when I expected it the least. His Grace touched me with His Light.” I stutter.

Caracalla chuckles, the sound low and derisive. He shakes his head as if I’ve said something amusing but absurd.

“The Gods will punish you for this, little lamb,” he says, amusement clear in his tone. “They always do for such foolishness.”

I try to steady myself, but the fear only tightens its grip on me. I want to say something, defend my faith, but the words don’t come. I can feel Geta’s presence behind me, close, too close. His breath on my neck makes the hairs on my skin stand on end.

Without warning, I feel his fingers wrap gently around my throat, his touch firm but not harsh, yet it makes my heart skip a beat. I freeze, terror flooding me. My throat constricts under his fingers, and I can’t help but swallow hard, the fear creeping in like a cold wave. I brace myself, expecting them to strike, to end this now. They are the Emperors, after all. They have the power to kill as they want.

“Keep going,” Geta orders, his voice low and strangely soft, yet with an edge of command that makes me shiver.

I can feel his fingers tighten just enough to remind me he’s in control. I choke on my breath for a moment, gathering the strength to speak. My voice shakes as I continue, each word heavier than the last.

“After I lost… everything, my family, my home, everything I knew, I thought I was dying too. I was crying, choking, shaking, unable to think, to talk. I was… doomed. I thought I’d never see the light of day again.”

I pause, swallowing the lump in my throat, trying to push the memory away, but it’s like a weight I can’t shake. The fear, the pain… it all comes flooding back. I take a steadying breath before continuing.

“Then, suddenly, a warmth spread through my chest. Not the kind that consumed me, but one that soothed me, comforted me. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever felt before.”

I close my eyes briefly, remembering that night, the strange sensation of it.

“It was winter,” I kept explaining, opening my eyes to look at the oldest brother. “In the middle of the night, a firefly… a bright one, came close to me, but it didn’t touch me. It just hovered there. I knew it was impossible to have one of those in the dead of winter. But I felt it. I knew it wasn’t… normal.”

I swallow again, the memory vivid in my mind. It’s been so long, but it’s as if it happened yesterday.

“The next day, I saw some Christians in the street, preaching the Holy Word. They were arrested, condemned… I watched them suffer. And then, a month later, a woman appeared. She was dressed in white… luminous, like a glow. I couldn’t see her face, but I could feel her warmth, her beauty… until she disappeared.”

My voice breaks at the end, and I find myself staring at my hands, trying to steady my trembling.

“That’s how God found me,” I finish quietly, almost to myself.

I expect silence, but Caracalla’s laugh rings out, sharp and mocking. “A woman dressed in white, you say? A nice tale, but that’s all it is, isn’t it? A tale.”

Geta’s hand leaves my throat, but I can still feel his presence behind me, a looming shadow.

“She believes it,” Geta whispers, his voice thoughtful, almost teasing. “I think that makes it all the more interesting, don’t you, brother?”

Caracalla’s smirk widens, and I feel smaller than ever, caught between their taunting and my truth.

I stand frozen, my heart hammering in my chest. Geta’s hand moves too close to me, his fingers brushing against my side as he whispers something I can’t fully understand, but it doesn’t matter. I know enough. His words drip with mockery, like poison in my ears, and every fiber of my being tells me to pull away, but I don’t dare. Suddenly, his hands slide over my breasts and grab them. My eyes widen, I gasp for breath and a wave of heat surges through me. The fear weighs heavily on me, making my chest tighten. I feel his gaze on me, hot and uncomfortable, and I try not to flinch. Every instinct screams at me to move, to run, but my feet refuse to move. I know very well the consequences of this.

I try to steady my breath, reminding myself that the only thing keeping me alive is compliance.

God help me! Please!

“Gods told me you’re wrong,” Geta murmurs close to my ear, his voice low and mocking. “Maybe you need a lesson.”

I feel sick. My stomach churns as anxiety builds up, but before I can process the thought, there’s a knock at the door. The interruption is sharp, and it cuts through the heavy air like a knife. A Pretorian guard steps in, his presence like a sudden gust of wind.

“Apologies, my Emperors, but there’s been an incident.”

Geta releases me without a second glance, and I stagger back, heart still racing.

“Leave.” he orders coldly, and I don’t need to be told twice.

I hurry out of the room, my legs unsteady beneath me. As soon as I step into the corridor, I allow myself a moment to breathe, though my heart is still pounding. I wipe a tear from my cheek, feeling the sting of humiliation and helplessness claw at my chest.

I don’t know what will happen now.

But for now, I just keep walking.

- - -

Do I know where I’m going? Yes and no haha.

Tell me if you enjoy this story, it might help me to keep writing this story.

My AO3: BetrayedWriter

My Instagram: carolinemertz_

[lunaswicked]

Sweet Spot

A/N: Sorry this one took so long, college has been kicking my black ass, but im back with a juicy Roman fic!

Paring: Roman Reigns x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Summary: A bold ultimatum turns into an irresistible claim when you demand your place in Roman Reigns' Bloodline. What starts as a power struggle quickly turns into something far more intense as Roman asserts his dominance.

Tags: Oral, (female receiving), language, p in v, smut village, claiming, 18+, USE YOUR IMAGINATION BABE!!!

“The Tribal Chief will be back soon after his interview, Y/N. You really shouldn’t be in here—”  

Paul Heyman’s voice carried that usual mix of authority and nervousness, like he was trying to keep the peace but also lowkey freaking out. Classic Wiseman behavior. But before he could finish, you hit him with a cold, uninterested stare and cut him off.  

“I don’t care… Paul.” You dragged his name out like it tasted bitter on your tongue. Your arms crossed over your chest, your body language screaming defiance as you dropped into one of Roman’s ridiculously expensive leather chairs, making yourself comfortable. “I’m staying right here until I talk to Roman about the Bloodline.”  

Paul’s mouth opened, then shut like a fish out of water. He clearly wasn’t used to people shutting him down, especially not when it came to anything involving Roman. He adjusted his tie, the slight fidget a dead giveaway that he was scrambling for a way to handle you without setting off a nuclear-level argument.  

"Y/N," he started again, voice softer now, like he was trying to reason with a child throwing a tantrum. "I understand your frustration, but decisions like these take time. The Tribal Chief has a lot to consider—”  

You scoffed, leaning back in the chair like you owned the damn place. “Paul, don’t give me that ‘decisions take time’ speech. Roman’s been stringing me along for months. Either I’m in, or I’m out. No more waiting around while he plays mind games.”  

Paul’s lips pressed into a thin line. You could tell he wanted to say something slick, something wise and calculated, but you were past the point of caring. Your patience had been worn down to nothing. You weren’t just some random outsider begging for a spot—you had proven yourself. You had bled for this. And yet, Roman still hadn’t made the call.  

Paul sighed dramatically, rubbing his temples like you were personally giving him a migraine. “This is not how things work. You don’t just demand to see Roman. You wait for him to summon you.”  

You rolled your eyes. “Summon me? Paul, be fucking for real right now. I’m not some peasant waiting on a royal decree. If Roman wants loyalty, he needs to show me I’m not wasting my damn time.”  

Paul exhaled sharply, clearly at a loss. He checked the time on his phone like that was gonna magically make Roman appear faster. “If you just wait—”  

“No,” you cut in. “I’m done waiting.”  

Your eyes flickered to the clock on the wall. Any minute now, Roman would be walking through that door. And when he did, you were gonna make damn sure he finally gave you an answer.

You adjusted the black dress draped over your body, subtly pulling at the slit running up your thigh. The fabric clung to your curves just right—not that you planned it for Roman, but if he noticed, well… that was his problem.  

Paul gave you one last lingering look, one that screamed you’re playing a dangerous game, before he sighed and exited Roman’s private room. The door shut with a soft click, leaving you alone in the space that practically reeked of dominance and control.  

Minutes passed as you scrolled mindlessly through your phone, pretending like your heart wasn’t racing. Like you weren’t anticipating the moment he walked through that door. And then—  

Click. Thud.  

Your head snapped up at the sound, and there he was.  

Roman Reigns.  

Dressed in a sleek black suit, crisp white shirt, and a tie that somehow made him look even more powerful. His presence alone sucked the air from the room, commanding attention without a single word. And damn, did he look good. So good that heat crawled up your neck before you could stop it. For a split second, you almost forgot why you were here in the first place. Almost.  

His sharp eyes locked onto yours, dark and unreadable, before one eyebrow quirked up.  

“Y/N, sweetheart,” his voice was smooth, teasing, laced with amusement. “Who let you in here?”  

The way he said sweetheart sent a shiver down your spine, but you kept your composure, tilting your chin up as he stepped closer. He shrugged off his suit jacket and placed it on the chair beside you, the fabric brushing against your arm like a silent reminder of his presence.  

You swallowed, clearing your throat before answering. “I—I let myself in.”  

He hummed at that, walking over to the small table in the corner, pouring himself a cup of coffee like he had all the time in the world. The casual dominance, the way he moved, the sheer confidence—infuriating.  

“And where’s Paul?” he asked, lifting the cup to his lips.  

“He left.”  

That made him pause. His head turned slightly, eyebrow raising again.  

“He left?” Roman repeated, almost like he didn’t believe you. Paul never left before he was back. Ever.  

You crossed your arms, refusing to shrink under his gaze.  

“So, let me get this straight.” He took a slow sip of his coffee, eyes still locked on you. “You invite yourself in… and then run off my Wiseman?”  

You bit the inside of your cheek, pulse flickering under his intense stare.  

“I wouldn’t say run off,” you muttered, shifting slightly.  

Roman smirked, setting his coffee down with a soft clink. He took a step closer, the air between you growing heavier with every movement.  

“Mm. That so?” His voice was low, edged with something dangerously amused.  

You weren’t sure if you wanted to punch him or let that voice do dangerous things to you. Maybe both.

You straightened your back, squaring your shoulders as you met his gaze head-on. No more games. No more waiting.  

“I’m here to tell you that I’m not waiting anymore, Roman,” you said, voice firm despite the way his presence made your pulse spike. “It’s either I’m part of your Bloodline, or I’m not. I mean, it’s been months, and I—”  

You didn’t even get to finish.  

Roman lifted a hand, cutting you off without a word. The simple gesture was enough to shut you down, not because you wanted to stop talking, but because there was something about the way he did it—calm, effortless, like he already had control of the entire situation. Like you were only here because he allowed it.  

Then, before you could react, he moved.  

Two long strides, and he was right in front of you, towering over you, his scent wrapping around your senses like a noose. Clean, masculine, laced with expensive cologne and something undeniably him.  

His eyes flickered down to yours, dark and unreadable.  

“Up. Now.”  

A command. Not a request.  

Your body reacted before your brain could catch up, pushing up from the chair without hesitation.  

You stood, arms crossing over your chest as you forced yourself to hold his gaze. Even in heels, he made you feel small, like he could swallow you whole if he wanted to. The heat rolling off him, the authority dripping from every inch of his stance—it was infuriating.  

And yet, you still obeyed.

Roman moved around you with a slow, calculated pace, like a predator circling its prey. Every step was deliberate, heavy with unspoken authority. You felt his presence even when you couldn't see him, the energy in the room shifting with every move he made.  

Then, he stopped behind you.  

The heat of his body ghosted over your back, close enough that you could feel him but not close enough to touch. His fingers landed on your shoulder, featherlight but firm, sending a shiver down your spine.  

“It’s risky,” he murmured, his voice low and rich, the kind that made the air in your lungs thin. “And you’re too sweet.”  

You clenched your jaw, shaking your head immediately. “I’m not sweet,” you shot back, voice sharper than you intended.  

Behind you, Roman chuckled, the sound deep and knowing, like he was in on a joke you weren’t privy to.  

“Sweet,” he mused, his fingers trailing lightly over your shoulder before pulling away. “But not fragile.”  

You swallowed hard, refusing to let him see how much he was getting to you.  

“I can handle it,” you said, turning your head slightly but not fully facing him.  

Roman didn’t respond right away. Instead, he let the silence stretch, let the weight of his presence press into you, let the moment settle in a way that made your pulse hammer against your ribs.  

Then, he leaned in just a fraction, voice nothing but a whisper against your ear.  

“Are you sure about that, sweetheart?”

You inhaled sharply, the warmth of his breath still lingering against your skin. Roman didn’t wait for a response. Instead, he stepped away, walking toward the locker in the corner of the room, leaving you standing there, your body still buzzing from his proximity.  

You turned slightly, watching as he opened the locker with ease, rummaging through it before pulling out a black T-shirt. Bold red letters stretched across the fabric.  

Bloodline.

Your breath hitched.  

Roman turned back to you, holding the shirt in one hand as he strode forward. The look in his eyes was unreadable—calm, unreadable, but undeniably intense.  

“This is yours,” he said simply, stopping just inches from you. His voice was smooth, but there was something deeper laced within it. Something that made your stomach twist.  

He held the shirt out, his fingers brushing against yours as you reached for it.  

“Was gonna give it to you next week,” he continued, eyes flickering over you like he was assessing you all over again. “But you’re so damn bold… so here.”  

Your fingers curled around the fabric, your heart pounding in your chest.  

You stared down at the shirt in your hands, the bold red Bloodline lettering staring right back at you like it was daring you to make a choice. The room felt heavier now, charged with something unspoken, something dangerous.  

Roman took a step back, arms folding across his broad chest as he watched you. He licked his lips, the slow drag of his tongue over them making your stomach tighten.  

“How about you put it on right now?” he said, voice smooth, low, but laced with authority. Like he wasn’t really asking.  

Your eyes flicked up to meet his, and the intensity in them made your breath hitch. He was testing you. Waiting.  

You exhaled slowly, then—without breaking eye contact—you reached for the hem of your dress and pulled it over your head in one swift motion, leaving you in nothing but your black lace bra and matching panties. The air in the room shifted instantly.  

Roman’s jaw clenched. His eyes darkened, flickering over your body with a heat that sent shivers down your spine.  

You smirked slightly, then took your time slipping the Bloodline shirt over your head, letting it fall just below your thighs. The fabric was soft, the scent of him still lingering on it.  

Roman exhaled sharply through his nose, his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.  

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath before stepping closer, his fingers grazing the hem of the shirt as he looked down at you. “Fits you good, sweetheart.”  

You tilted your chin up, your own smirk growing. “I told you I belong here.”  

Roman chuckled, low and deep. “Guess we’ll see about that.”

Your back hit the wall before you even realized he was moving. Roman was on you in an instant, his sheer presence crowding your space, making the air between you crackle with tension. 

His eyes locked onto yours, dark and unwavering, his expression unreadable—but his intent? Crystal clear. 

“Rules,” he murmured, unbuttoning the top of his shirt, his fingers slow, deliberate.  

Your breath hitched, chest rising and falling faster as you swallowed hard. “Rules?” you echoed, barely recognizing your own voice.  

Roman’s jaw clenched, his tongue flicking out to wet his lips before he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your face.  

“You’re mine,” he said, his voice low, rough, possessive. “Mine. Not Jey’s. Not Jimmy’s. Not Solo’s. Mine.”  

The way he said it, like it was law—like it was already written in stone—made your stomach tighten. Your pulse hammered against your ribs as his hand lifted, fingers grazing the hem of the Bloodline shirt now hanging loosely on your frame.  

“You understand that, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice thick with something dangerous, something that sent a shiver down your spine.  

You licked your lips, your throat suddenly dry. But you didn’t back down. You wouldn’t.  

“I understand,” you whispered, your voice softer than you intended.  

Roman smirked, but it wasn’t playful. It was dark. Satisfied. Like he’d just won.

He leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear, his fingers tracing the edge of your panties. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice thick with promise. “I’m gonna pull these down, taste you, then I’m gonna fuck you—hit that sweet spot over and over, just to remind you of exactly what you’ve gotten yourself into.” His words were low, dangerous, and laced with an undeniable intensity.

The heat surged through you as he slowly slid your panties down, his touch deliberate and teasing. You gasped, breath hitching, "Roman—" you whimpered, unable to hide the desire creeping into your voice. His gaze never left yours, intense and unwavering, as he slid his middle finger between your folds, making your pulse race even faster.

He set a slow, teasing rhythm, his fingers moving in a steady pace, the sound of your wetness filling the room, making the atmosphere thick with tension. "Oh god—" you moaned, your eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure coursed through you. Roman’s jaw tightened, his grip firm as he continued, his pace unrelenting, each movement deliberate, driving you closer to the edge.

"This what you wanted, sweetheart?" he groans in your ear, his pace quickening, pushing you further into a haze of pleasure. You struggle to catch your breath, "Mhm... yes..." you whimper, your body betraying your words. 

Without warning, he pulls his fingers out, his grip shifting as he hooks his arms around your thighs, effortlessly lifting you up against the wall. He raises you so high that your pussy aligns directly with his face, and the shift leaves you breathless, heart pounding.

Roman’s breath was warm as he hovered just inches from where you needed him most, his lips so close that every exhale sent a new wave of desperation coursing through you. Then, without warning, he blew a slow, teasing stream of air against your wetness, the sensation making you jolt in his grip.  

"You’re dripping, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction, with control, with possession. His eyes flicked up to yours, dark and heavy with intent, waiting—watching—as your body reacted to his every move.  

The heat between your thighs throbbed, and your fingers instinctively tangled in his hair, desperate for more. But Roman? He took his time, his hold firm, ensuring you had nowhere to run from the way he was about to ruin you.

That was the moment you lost all control—the second his tongue darted out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe against your slick heat without warning. A choked gasp escaped your lips, your head falling back against the wall as a surge of pleasure shot through you like wildfire.  

“F-fuck—” you stuttered, your voice barely above a breath, but he didn’t give you a chance to gather yourself. His grip tightened on your ass, his fingers digging in possessively as he held you in place, completely at his mercy.  

Then, he latched onto that sensitive bead, sucking with just the right amount of pressure, making your entire body jerk in response. A strangled moan tore from your throat, your thighs trembling around his head as you instinctively tried to press closer, needing more—needing everything.  

He groaned against you, the vibration sending another pulse of pleasure straight through your core. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he murmured between strokes of his tongue. “Let me hear you.”  

Your fingers curled in his hair, tugging helplessly as your legs threatened to give out—not that he’d let you fall. He had you trapped, exactly where he wanted you, and he wasn’t stopping until you were completely undone.

His dark eyes locked onto yours, filled with hunger and unrelenting dominance. The intensity in his gaze made your breath hitch, anticipation coiling in your stomach like a tightly wound spring.  

Without breaking eye contact, he shifted his hold, dropping his left hand, leaving you suspended with only one strong arm wrapped around your waist. The sheer power he possessed sent a shiver down your spine, reminding you just how effortlessly he controlled you.  

With his free hand, he worked the button of his slacks, then the zipper, his movements slow—calculated. The sound of fabric rustling filled the room as his slacks slid down his legs, pooling at his ankles, followed by the drop of his boxers. Your mouth went dry at the sight of him, thick and hard, standing tall beneath you.  

Roman smirked at your reaction, his grip tightening. “See something you like, sweetheart?” he rasped, amusement laced in his deep voice.  

You swallowed hard, unable to form words, but the need pooling between your thighs said enough.  

He didn’t give you time to dwell on it. Instead, he adjusted his stance, his large hands gripping your thighs as he guided you down, letting gravity and desire take over. Your back slid down the wall, your body trembling from the overwhelming sensation of his warmth pressing against you.  

A sharp gasp tore from your lips the moment you felt him stretching you, inch by inch, your walls molding around his thick length. Roman groaned, his head falling forward as he buried himself deep inside you, his grip bruising as he held you still.  

“Fuck—” he growled through gritted teeth, his breath ragged. “You feel even better than I thought.”  

Your nails dug into his shoulders as pleasure and pain blended into something euphoric, leaving you breathless. “please—ooHH MY GOddd” you whimpered, voice breaking in agony.  

He lifted his head, his nose grazing yours, his lips ghosting over your parted ones. “What, baby?” he taunted, rolling his hips just enough to make you whine. “This what you wanted?”  

You barely managed a nod, your body trembling in his grasp.  

He smirked, dark and wicked, his hands tightening around your thighs as he pressed you harder against the wall. “Good,” he murmured, voice dripping with authority. “’Cause I ain’t lettin’ you go now.”  

His dark hair slipped free from the messy bun, cascading over his broad shoulders as sweat glistened on his golden skin, accentuating every defined muscle and intricate tattoo under the dim lighting. His pace was relentless now, each deep thrust sending shockwaves of pleasure through your trembling body, pressing you harder against the wall.  

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with your breathless moans and his low, guttural grunts. His grip on your thighs was firm, possessive, holding you in place as he drove into you with a punishing rhythm.  

Roman’s head tilted back slightly, his jaw clenched, his breath heavy. “You wanted this, didn’t you?” His voice was deep, laced with raw dominance. His piercing eyes found yours again, dark and full of hunger. “Wanted to be part of my Bloodline so bad…” He punctuated his words with a sharp thrust, making you cry out.  

You could barely think, let alone respond, but that didn’t stop him.  

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he growled, “Then you’re mine now, sweetheart.” His teeth grazed your earlobe before he sucked it between his lips, sending a shiver down your spine.  

Your nails raked down his back, desperate for something to hold onto. “R-Roman—” you gasped, your voice breaking from the intensity.  

He chuckled, dark and amused, before pulling back just enough to meet your dazed, pleasure-drunk gaze. “From now on, every Friday night,” he murmured, rolling his hips slow and deep, making you whimper, “I’m gonna fuck you into my Bloodline.”  

A sharp cry left your lips as he picked up his pace again, pounding into you harder, making good on his promise.

With one last deep, punishing thrust, Roman buried himself to the hilt, his grip on your thighs tightening as a guttural groan ripped from his throat. Your body tensed, the overwhelming pleasure crashing over you in powerful, shuddering waves.  

“Oh my—Roman!” you gasped, your head falling back against the wall, eyes squeezed shut as the pleasure consumed you. Your walls clenched around him, milking every last drop of his release as his breath came out in ragged pants against your ear.  

“Fuck—” he growled, his forehead pressing against yours as he rode out both of your highs, his body trembling slightly from the force of it. His hands slowly loosened their bruising grip on your thighs, fingers grazing over your heated skin as he took deep, steadying breaths.  

Your chest heaved against his, bodies still tangled together as the aftermath of your passion settled in the air. The only sounds in the room were the mingling of your unsteady breaths, the cooling sweat on your skin making you shiver against him.  

Roman smirked, his lips barely ghosting over yours. “You good, sweetheart?” His voice was thick with satisfaction, but there was something else there too—something possessive.  

You swallowed, still dazed, nodding weakly. “Yeah…” you breathed out, your body still tingling from the intensity of it all.  

He chuckled lowly, his nose brushing against yours as he finally—slowly—slid out of you, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness. He kept a firm hold on your waist, ensuring you didn’t collapse the second your feet touched the ground.  

Your legs felt weak, unsteady, and Roman smirked knowingly. “That was cute,” he murmured, amusement lacing his voice as he held you up.  

You rolled your eyes, even as a small smile pulled at your lips. “Shut up,” you muttered breathlessly, swaying slightly as you leaned into his solid chest for balance.  

Roman reached for his discarded suit jacket and draped it over your shoulders, his touch surprisingly gentle as he smoothed the fabric down your arms. His fingers lingered at your waist before he pulled back slightly, tilting your chin up with a single finger.  

“You’re mine now,” he said, voice firm, leaving no room for argument. His dark eyes bore into yours, possessive and intense. “No backing out.”  

You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words settle deep in your chest. There was no denying it—you had just crossed a line that couldn’t be undone.  

A slow, knowing smirk spread across your lips. “Guess I’m in the Bloodline now, huh?”  

Roman chuckled, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip before leaning in, his lips hovering over yours.  

“Damn right, sweetheart.”

[butlervibesonly]

hi!! I love ur writing and I had this idea if you could please write it!? It could be Austin x actress reader, they are dating and made a movie together and now they are at some kind of interview, but they are both distracted by each others pressence 🤭 maybe like the tension between them growing visibly and it could end with some funny comments from fans? Thank you in advance! 🌼

𝑈𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑎𝑏𝑙𝑒 𝑑𝑒𝑠𝑖𝑟𝑒 || Austin Butler

• Pairing: Austin Butler x actress! reader

• Warnings: Austin and reader can’t take their eyes off of each other, flirting, desire,…?

• Note: HIII! What an absolutely amazing idea! You can’t imagine how I enjoyed writing this!! ( @eternal-love could tell… 😝) also! picture used at the end is fictional; created with app called TwiNote! AND YES, I HAD TO ADD THIS SONG.

You and Austin have been dating for a long time now. You both met thanks to the same industry you two work at and that nothing less than your beloved acting. Now that Hollywood has given you the opportunity, both of you were casted in a movie where you played love interests.

That was of course very easy for you, since the love you guys feel for each other is truly unconditional. When it comes to making movies there are a lot of duties to promote the movie by any kind of a way. One of them is interviews. Austin and you are on a press tour, promoting the movie you guys made and today… there is something in the air…

The bright studio lights cast a warm glow over the set, highlighting the two stars seated side by side in chairs. And that is of course you and Austin. The interviewer has barely finished the introduction before the oddly satisfying energy filled the room.

Even tho that the two of you have been together for nearly over a two years now, sitting next to each other like this, all dressed up for the press tour, makes it feel like you are back on set, falling for each other all over again.

You look absolutely breathtaking in a formal black dress in Austin’s eyes. Austin is wearing his grey shirt and black pants – so damn handsome. There are some glances between the two of you from the beginning of this interview. Something so unspoken but still so obvious.

“So,” the interviewer started, bringing you from your own thoughts. “Austin, Y/n… It’s nice to have you here today.” Both you and Austin smile warmly. “Thanks for having us.” Austin says, his voice low and deep - just like the way you love it.

“You two have worked together before, but this was your first time playing romantic opposite each other. Did that make things easier or harder?”

Austin opens his mouth to answer, but then you shift beside him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear, and he gets completely lost in thoughts. His gaze flickers to you, and you only, caught in the way your lips curl so slightly at the edges, because you know exactly what you’re doing to him.

You raise an eyebrow, noticing his hesitation. “Easier,” you answer smoothly, tilting your head toward him after breaking the uncomfortable silence. “Definitely easier.”

Austin clears his throat, attempting to focus on the interview that’s being recorded. “Yeah, I mean, when you already have a connection, it helps.” He finally manages to say, though his words came out slower than he wanted, as if his brain is struggling to catch up with the sight of you beside him.

“I see. So you slid into the characters pretty easily, didn’t you?” Austin chuckles, wanting to answer the question with confidence, but then your fingers brushes his to hold his hand. Just for a second, just enough to send a spark up his arm. Austin of course looses the thoughts again. You can see he is out of his straight thinking, and take over the question again.

“Mhm, yes. The characters we got to play are actually not so different from us, so it was really easy to bring those characters alive.” you smile warmly. The interviewer grins, clearly noticing the interaction of you and Austin. “You both look like you’re still in characters.”

Austin rubs his tight as he always does, his other hand rubbing his lips - as he always does. “Are we?” he smirks, letting out a laugh to ease the atmosphere in the air.

What Austin actually does is that he unbuttons the few buttons of his shirt on his chest. You peripherally see his chest glistening in the studio lights, the lust in your eyes growing stronger. Okay. Focus. Just answer the questions… goes through your head.

The interviewer is speaking about the movie, but neither you and him registers the words. You shift beside him again, crossing your leg over the other. You just look so stunning for Austin to keep his eyes off of you. Too stunning. How is he supposed to form sense able sentences when you’re sitting this close?

Little does he know that you are now kinda doing it on purpose. Austin hears his name being mentioned, knowing he needs to get back to reality from his fantasizing about you. Say something, Austin. Anything.

“So, Austin, what was your favorite scene to film?” the interviewer asks. His favorite scene? He blinks, hesitating. Right. The movie. The reason you’re both here.

His brain is stubborn, refusing to pull up any scene except for that one; The one where your hands roamed around his body, the way you whispered his name like it belonged to you. The way it never felt like acting.

“Um…” He starts searching for a savory answer. “I really liked the one that actually director decided to remove… But it was some kind of scene where Y/n and I run through the rain on a beach.”

You smirk, knowing he is lying and tries to hide his real intentions. It’s actually no longer after when you are the one being questioned, and suddenly know how it felt for Austin when you are being seduced by the sight. He’s staring.

You can feel the weight of Austin’s gaze without even looking at him. It’s been happening since you walked onto the set of this interview of course, but now it’s getting way harder to ignore. Every time you move, his eyes follow. Every time you smile, his lips twitch like he’s fighting the urge to do the same.

It’s distracting. So unfairly distracting. You tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, again, pretending not to notice the way his hands flex slightly, like he wants to reach out and just touch you.

As the interviewer continues to say something, you risk a glance at Austin, and sure enough, he’s already looking at you with that expression of his. His blue eyes are squinted due to his eyebrows furrowing, more intense, almost as if he has forgotten you’re supposed to be acting professional.

You notice the way his jaw clenches when he’s thinking. His fingers drumming against his knee when he’s trying to focus. The way his unbuttoned shirt opens just right, and how his cologne still lingers.

“…undeniable desire,” the interviewer says. “I mean, come on, do you two even realize how you look at each other?”

Austin finally tears his eyes from you, shaking his head with a breathy chuckle. You cross your arms, biting back a smirk. Damn yes you do. And so does everyone else.

Interviewer leans back in his chair, watching both of you being barely present. You and Austin are both trying to stay focused, you really do, but at this point, it’s a lost cause already. Every glance, every half-smirk, every moment or hesitation before answering a question. Too much to handle at this point.

The interview ends the moment, thanking you both for coming - even tho you did absolutely nothing at the interview - and with a quick glance behind the camera at his producer he grins. Yeah, this definitely going viral.

With a teasing smile the interviewer calls it a day and shakes both of your hands. “Well, I think that’s all the proof we need.” Austin’s furrows his brow. “Proof?”

You are equally confused as Austin. “Of what?”

The interview chuckles, standing up. “That the two of you are terrible at pretending you’re not totally into each other.”

Austin lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head and you groan, covering your face with one hand. “Yeah, it’s just hard not to keep eyes off of her,” Austin’s hand lands on the small of your back and you shiver at his touch.

You two walk off the set, heading into the backstage. As soon as you both arrive at the changing room, Austin smashes the door to close them. You gasp surprisingly and he leans you against the door.

“You will be the death of me, Y/l/n.” he whispers into your ears, his lips then capturing yours. He grips your hips, pulling you close enough to him as he savor the fact he can finally kiss you. Only a fool wouldn’t know how you spent the rest of the night after arriving at the hotel.

[semisasseater]

Baby, you’re so preciou-ciou-ciou-cious.

Boyfriend! Thanos x Boyfriend! Nam gyu

Summary: poor nam gyu was never able to paint his nails and thought he’d never be able to, until he asked his boyfriend to paint them.

Tw: mentions of drugs, fluff, angst if u squint, low self esteem, soft intimacy, acts of service, just cute stuff, let me know if i missed anything!

authors note: i HAD to write this once i saw someone ask for this.. i literally love thangyu so much people who don’t can argue with me !! i swear thangyu is my little babies who do no wrong…? anyways after im done with my other requests i might just also focus on writing thangyu!! also gabby hates me yall </3 (im lying i think)

Not proofread!

Word count: 579

Nam gyu had always wanted to paint his nails. It was a small, silly dream, but a dream nonetheless. Every time he tried, though, it ended in disaster—streaks of polish smeared across his fingers, uneven globs drying in clumps, and an overall mess that left him more frustrated than satisfied. His hands shook too much from all the drugs he had taken in the past with his boyfriend, a lingering reminder of mistakes he couldn’t erase.

Tonight, though, as he pushed open the door to Thanos’s room, he saw something that made his heart flutter.

There, sitting on the floor, back against the bed, was his boyfriend, carefully painting his own nails. A deep violet polish coated his finger, matching his vibrant purple hair. His movements were precise, steady, effortless.

Nam gyu hesitated in the doorway before quietly stepping inside, lowering himself next to Thanos. He fiddled with the hem of his oversized green-and-white shirt, biting his lip before finally whispering,

“Please paint my nails…”

His voice was small, almost embarrassed, and when Thanos turned to look at him, his expression was one of mild confusion.

“You want your nails painted?”

Nam gyu nodded, his dark eyes filled with something vulnerable, something hopeful.

Thanos studied him for a moment before shrugging. “Okay I’ll do yours after alright?”

Another nod, and Nam gyu settled in, watching closely as Thanos finished painting his last nail. There was something oddly calming about the way he did it—the slow, careful strokes, the way he blew on them after to dry. It was fascinating, almost hypnotic.

When Thanos finally turned to him, he patted the space in front of him. “Okay come here”

Nam gyu shifted so that he was fully facing his boyfriend. Thanos reached for the small collection of polish bottles beside him and glanced up. “What color do you want?”

There was a pause before Nam gyu murmured, “Black”

Thanos nodded, picking up the black polish and opening it with ease. He reached for Nam gyu’s hand, but as soon as he touched it, he felt it—how badly it trembled. The shaking was worse up close, uncontrollable. It made something in Thanos’s chest ache with guilt.

Without a word, he gently took Nam Gyu’s finger, holding it steady in his own hand before carefully applying the first stroke of polish.

Nam gyu watched, his lips parting slightly. He had never been good at sitting still, but in this moment, he felt frozen, caught in the warmth of Thanos’s hands, the way he handled him with such patience.

Thanos worked in silence, finishing the left hand before moving to the right, his grip never faltering. He didn’t rush, didn’t get frustrated, even when Nam gyu’s fingers twitched every now and then.

And then, finally, it was done.

Thanos blew gently on Nam gyu’s nails before leaning back with a satisfied nod. “Wait for them to dry okay?”

Nam gyu stared at his hands, his breath catching. It wasn’t just that they were painted perfectly—it was that someone had done this for him. Someone who cared.

“Thank you…” he murmured, voice barely above a whisper.

Thanos simply smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the top of Nam gyu’s head. “Of course anything for my love”

For the first time, Nam gyu didn’t feel ashamed of his shaking hands. Because for once, they had been held with love.

And for the first time, his nails were painted perfectly.

All thanks to his amazing boyfriend.

@semisasseater

Taglist : @ancientvamp

[shanefuckingscott]

Getting drunk with Grayson 🎀

Imagine, getting drunk with Sheriff Grayson 👮🏽‍♀️❤️

Warning: Slight nsfw, Reader is a total hornbag, Grayson is smoking hot

🚫Men and Minors DNI🚫

You and Grayson have been working hard all week on a case you've been working at. There were reports of thieves that lurked around at night, and went into people's homes. They suspect that the thief was actually from Piltover, and the council did not like that.

You and Grayson walked to the councilors to discuss the matter. They all looked at Grayson to hear her updates on the case. Councilor Medarda spoke, "Well, Sheriff, is there any news about this case?" She asked Grayson, looking down on her. Councilor Hoskel scoffed. "Those filthy undercity brats. How hard is it to find these guys?! Maybe you're just not doing your job well!" He accused, you hated these meetings, you hated going to the councils, but you know it's your duty. Grayson clears her throat, "Who ever these thieves are, aren't just common knuckleheads you find in the under city. No. They're alot more calculated, and the equiptment they used to break in one of the houses was only euqiptment found here. The guards on the bridge did not report anyone cross the night the incident occured."

The councilors scoffed at Grayson, and you held her pinky, to sooth her, while looking down on the floor. Councilor Salo scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Well? Do something about it, that's your job, double the guards if you have to!—" He exclaims. Miss Medarda eyes him, and she sighs, "I want this case dealt with. Immedietly. I don't care what you need to do, but people in Piltover are getting worried by the minute. We cannot have that, understand?" She asks. You and Grayson just look to the floor, "Yes, we understand." And with that, you both left.

When you got out, you look visibly pissed, and rightfully so. The whole week, you and Grayson worked hard. You rarely went home anymore, you both just sleeped on the couch in her office and only went home one at a time to get supplies, like food, toothpaste, instant coffee, you literally worked day an night.

This went on for a couple more days, until finally, you catch them, and out them in Stillwater. When that finally happened, you and Grayson took a few days off, rightfully so, and only did your paperwork at home.

"God, we're finally home, but we're still working" You joke, as you hand Grayson her coffee. She smiled softly at your joke, before turning to face her computer screen again. "I know darling, and I'm sorry. Once we finish this work tonight, how about you and me get a drink?" She offers. You were playfully taken aback, dramatically looking shocked, as you out a hond on your chest, and one faceing Grayson. "Ah! Officer~ Are you asking me out on a date?" You ask, playfully, and she takes your hand to kiss it. She chuckles at you, "Why yes, my dove. Will you go out with me?" ahe asks, as she pulls you onto her lap, so she can kiss your neck. You giggle at eachother, and you pull back to kiss her face.

Work still wasn't easy, even at home, but after a couple hours, you finally finished it all. "Yes! I'm all done for the week, baby look!" You call Grayson, and proudly show her your finished work. She smiles, and kisses your forehead. "That sounds wonderfull, my dear. I'm about to finish up, how about you get in the shower, and start getting ready, okay? Once I'm done, I'll join you, and we can bathe together." You eagerly took her up on that offer, running in the bathroom, as Grayson scolds you a little bit as you do, "Don't run, my love, you might fall!"

You take a nice hot shower, and Grayson joined you halfway through it. She shampooed your hair, worshipped your body, planted kissess in your face, and with that, you feel all the happiness in the world. And suddenly, the weeks of hard work were worth it, if it meant getting to do this with your wife as a reward. You scrub and massage her back, she was visibly tense, but loosened up a little bit. When you both got out, Greyson put on a tan shirt, and jeans, with white shoes. She looks absolutely hot, you can see her muscles filling in her shirt. God, you are so lucky to have married that woman.

You wore whatever u want, (make it appropriate, you're gonna be naked later anyways) You looked absolutely amazing. You wore the necklace Grayson gifted you for your anniversary, and she looked absolutely mesmerized by you. "Like what you see?" You tease her. She chuckled, and reached for your hand. "M'lady" She says, with a little curtsy. You giggle at her, and give her your hand, and she kisses your knuckles. She bring you to the car, and opens the door for you, "My dear, what a gentleman~" You say to her with a wink. and she gets on the driver's seat.

You both get to the bar, it was a calm atmosphere, and Grayson orders you both drinks. You just look at her with a smile, you can't believe this hot sexy woman was truly yours. She notices, and teases you, "enjoying the view?" She nudges you, and you roll your eyes. The beautiful atmosphere of the city, with your most beloved.

When the drinks came, you and Grayson teased, and flirted with each other all night, like you two weren't already a married couple. Grayson is surprisingly good at holding her alcohol. Ater a couple drinks, she wasn't even fazed, she was just calm, and less tensed. "Hmm, we needed this, didn't we?" You say to her, and she looked a little guilty for not doing this with you sooner. "Yes my love, but 'm glad we get to unwind now." She softly smiles at you, and tucks your hair behind your ear. "You look beautiful tonight, my love." She looks at you, she has perfect eye contact. Her finger circling the rim of her glass. You were visibly red now, the alcohol, and Grayson's flirty and deep voice. You're getting kind of hornier by each drink.

"Hon..." You say, she looks confused and a little worried now, "dear? Are you drunk? do you want to go home—" "I want you to fuck me, Grayson." You cut her off. She's visibly surprised, and confused, but her expression quickly changes to something a little darker. She stands up, and reaches for your hand, which you immedietly give. "Let's go home then." She gestures for you to get uo, and she makes her way to her car. She opens the door for you like the gentleman she is, and when she gets in the driver's seat, you immedietly pulls you into a kiss that turns into a makeout session.

"You taste so good, my love." She lets out low moans in the kiss. You smile, and slightly pull away to answer. "Mhm, better be, that's your money." You tease, your breaths so potent with alcohol, you kind of get a little more drunk, the more you kiss her. Your clothes, and hair all messy. You take your top off to reveal your bralette. She pulls away to catch her breath, as she admires the view. and kisses your forehead. "Let's continue this at home, shall we?" You nod, and agree, and get off from her lap, to sit next to her while she drives, and she puts a hand on your leg once in awhile, when she's not using it.

Once you both get home, let's just say she fulfills all your wishes that night. ❤️

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

I'm sorry, but HAVE YOU SEEN GRAYSON ON THAT GIF?! Ahem... I kinda wanna be that cup on the GIF, I'm so jealous. 🙄

[princessmaeee]

Hi!!! May I request a GD x Fem!Reader, inspired by the skit where he played a villain/mob boss. Reader is there with him and the guys at the variety show, enjoying herself as she watches the guys play the silly games and loving how adorable her Ji-Yong is. But then she sees him come out and act all tough, her breath catches. Just when she thinks her bf can’t get any hotter. The others see her reaction and tease her relentlessly but she’s only got eyes for her man and his incredibly acting skills. How does he react when he learns that she’s all flustered by him acting all tough & possessive?

Villains Are Hots

Author's note : Hiii Sweety, thank you for the Request And sorry for the Wait ! I tried to search for G-Dragon Acting as villain. I found things, but I'm not sure If what I came with was exaclty what you wanted but I did my best ! I hope You will Enjoy it ! ♥

You were invited to a Variety show with all the other members of Big Bang and also Taeyang’s Wife, Min Hyo-Rin. The public knows you and the Leader, Ji Yong, are dating for almost a Year now and GD publicly said some weeks ago how serious this relationship is. You were more than happy he finally told you about you publicly. You didn’t rush him or even ask him this before, cause You knew how problematic it could’ve been if his fan reacted badly to the news, but happily for both of you, everyone accepted it, or almost everyone. The most recurrent criticism was about you not being an idol and just being a nobody, but you didn’t care and so did Ji Yong.

It was your first ever Tv appearance and you were sort of nervous, especially since none of the staff told you what’s gonna be about, but Hyo Rin seemed just as confused as you. She was in this industry for years and no one wanted to tell her what the show was going to be about.

When the animator called your name, you made your way on stage to your seat and the animator had a little conversation with you to introduce you a little bit more to the audience.

«-So, apparently you and G-Dragon have been dating for a moment. How is it to date a legend like him ? »

You blushed and gave a look to Hyo-Rin. You never did this before so you kinda start to feel anxious. You don’t want to say something wrong.

«-Oh, it’s … nice. I mean Ji Yong is really adorable and caring. He’s also really hard working. Sometimes I have to remind him to eat or to go sleep or even just get some rest. Otherwise he will literally work 24/24h. -And tell me how you met ? -It was three years ago. I had an Internship at YG for my work and I accidentally bumped into him on my first day. Well, in fact he bumped into me. I had an iced coffee in my hand so the impact made me spill it all over my clothes. Ji Yong apologized many times and got me a new outfit and also bought me another coffee. It was really sweet of him.-Yeah, that’s really kind. And did you recognise him when you bumped into each other ? -Not at all, I was too anxious, I barely had slept the night before so I didn’t pay attention. -And when you realised it, How did you react ? »

The animator continued to ask you questions until they switched to Hyo Rin, asking her about her relationship with Taeyang. Since she’s also an artist, she felt more comfortable with the questions. She was used to it, not like you. When question time was over, the animator introduced Big Bang and they appeared on stage, singing and dancing on their last released song. It was the first time you saw Your boyfriend performing live. You saw a lot of videos but never the live one. It made your heart beat faster and you smiled more as some sparkles lightened up in your eyes.

When they finished singing, it took place on the other side of the stage and the Animator started asking them questions about their dating life and for Taeyang and GD how they felt about having their partner on the stage today. GD smiled and answered ;

«-I’m happy she can finally see this other part of me. Performing is a big part of my life and of who I am, so having her there to see me live gives me motivation to give 110% of myself. »

You blushed and hid your face with your hand, smiling more. 

«-Congrat, GD, you made her blush, teased Taeyang. -Don’t say too much, she's gonna run away, continued Daesung. -Oh but you didn’t notice, but the camera did, when you were performing, how she reacted. Let’s watch Y/N reaction. »

On the big screen behind you, your face appeared and you could see your reaction wile looking at your boyfriend who was performing. You enjoyed it. As you look at your own reaction, you hide your face again in your hands, more embarrassed.

«-How are you feeling Y/N ? Asked the animator. -I don’t know. I’m not used to seeing myself on such a big screen. It’s kinda intimidating. -Keep an eye on her, I don’t think she’ll be ready for what’s next, said You boyfriend, with a big, to the animator.»

You gave him a confused look.

«-What have you planned ? You asked him.»

He just smiled at you and gave no answer. While the time off, you go back backstage. Ji yong passed close to you and gave you a soft kiss on the cheek before whispering in your ear.

«-You did an amazing job on stage, it seems really Natural for you. »

You smiled, happy to have given a good performance only by being yourself. You didn’t have time to answer Ji yong, he already left to go into the changing room with the other members. 

When you came back to the stage, the decor had changed. You were more and more confused about what will happen next. The staff showed you where to sit and you did. When the show restarted, the animator asked you.

«-So Y/N who’s your favorite Villain in any movies you have seen before, and Why ? -I think it’s ( Favorit’s villain name ) but I liked a lot more of the villains. Sometimes they’re not pure evil, they are just really broken. But also because I think they all have a lot of charisma. -That’s what we heard and that’s why we prepared a little sketch, with actors you will like of the ( scene name of villain you like ) from ( your favorite movie ) »

You started to make connections in your head and when the scene started, you saw your boyfriend, dressed with clothes who looked a lot like ( favorite villain name ) playing your favorite scene. You already love the character so much, but seeing your adorable Ji Yong as this evil character, playing like a pro, saying all hsi verses, it made your heart race more. You felt your cheeks becoming hot. For a moment you forget you were on stage with cameras, you just looked at GD performing with such admiration. Now you could definitely tell the difference between G-Dragon, the performer and Ji Yong, your adorable boyfriend. You can also say how much you like them both. 

Whe is performance were over, the animator looked at you and asked you something, but you didn’t pay attention, you eyes were still on your boyfriend who looked at you with a little smirk. Fuck that was hot.

«-I think you broke her, T.O.P said to his leader, when he noticed you didn’t answer the question the animator asked you. »

Your face became more red as you came back to reality, asking again what the question was.

«-What did you think of this little performance ? -It was… »

You looked at GD again and smiled at him.

«-It was hotter than the original. I’m glad to have such a talented Boyfriend. »

[holdmytesseract]

moodboard by @chennqingg | divider by @fictive-sl0th

Biker!Daryl Dixon x fem!Reader | No Outbreak AU

Warnings for this Chapter: 18+! MDNI! alcohol, sibling fight, swear words, smut (not entirely graphic, but it's definitely there), smoking?

Word Count: 2,1k

a/n: Is Tess right? What do you think, guys?

《 M a s t e r l i s t 》

《 Chapter Five 》 《 Chapter Seven 》

Chapter Six...

... in which your sister tries to discipulize you - without success - and you instead choose to take another long drag of your drug which is Daryl Dixon.

Angry, quick stomps announced Tess' presence. Unlike you, Daryl did see it coming. His body stiffened beneath you. "Oh, shit. Tha' ain't good," he mumbled, but loud enough for you to hear. His voice was the only sound who did the trick to get you out of your head.

You blinked; refocusing. "Why? What-" You weren't even able to finish your sentence, nor the time to process what was even going on when it was already too late.

"What the actual fuck are you doing here, Y/N?!"

Tess' voice hit you harder than any lightning could. Suddenly you understood what Daryl meant and you froze in place. Your heart leaped into your throat.

Her sharp, critical brown eyes quickly analysed the situation, before she crossed her arms over her chest. "And I've been wondering the whole past week where you went and sneaked off to... Well, now it's making sense," your sister said. Her voice dripped with pure venom.

You swallowed; brain working a hundred miles per hour to find the right words.

"Tess, I-" Your body reacted faster and you stood up from Daryl's lap. He let you and decided on keeping his mouth shut. "It's not what it looks like, I swear!" Tess' eyes widened for a moment. "Oh, it's not?" She said sarcastically. You shook your head. But then she pointed at your neck. "And that hickey there isn't what it looks like either, is it?"

Well, fuck.

Your felt how the blood rushed to your head and caused your cheeks to heat up. You totally forgot about the hickey and were now cursing yourself internally. "Sis,I-" "Don't 'sis' me now, Y/N," Tess growled under her breath and looked around; noticing how several pairs of eyes were already directed on the two - or well, three of you. The guys which whom Daryl had talked to vanished into thin air; walking out of the spotlight.

"We are going to have a little chat now," she said then with a sharp voice. Before you could even say something, your sister had grabbed your wrist and dragged you along. Away from Daryl and out of the bar.

The cool May air hit you harder than you thought. A shiver ran down your spine immediately. On the porch, Tess dragged you off to the side as well; away from prying ears. Her grip loosened around your wrist and she let you go, in order to cross her arms over her chest for the second time. "I am asking you once again and I want an honest answer. No more playing games, Y/N. What are you doing?"

You knew exactly that this wasn't a game anymore. The message had been clear and you had definitely received it...

Swallowing hard, your hands start to fumble nervously with your fingers. "J-Just having some fun..." It wasn't a lie, was it? But not entirely the truth either... "Fun?" Tess asked and lifted an eyebrow. "With that biker hill-billy?" You narrowed your eyes at her and wanted to defend Daryl, but your sister didn't let you. She sighed - almost frustrated. "Y/N, I thought we talked about that? I told you to forget that redneck guy and focus on work and your application for university." "B-But he came back, a-and-" "Why, huh? For you?"

You swallowed again and wanted to say yes, but you knew that his work was the real reason. "B-Because of his work." "See? You already know the answer yourself. Work. Not you." "He didn't know I would be here, Tess! He didn't think he'd see me again, but fate wanted it! This has to mean something! He's not gonna leave me this time! This is more than just sex, I know it!" Tess snorted out a laugh. "You really believe that? Gods, Y/N, wake up. Time to get rid of the rose-coloured glasses. He won't. I know guys like him. All he wants is your body. Once he's had enough and is bored of you, he's gonna throw you away like garbage."

You violently shook your head; hands clenching to fists. "No! That's not true!" Tess took a threatening step closer. "Oh yes, it is! You're just way too blinded by 'love' and especially by making heart-eyes at him. You're too naive and inexperienced, Y/N - and Daryl takes advantage of that. Believe me, I know it. I've seen it before. He's not good for you - and beside that way too old."

"No, you just say that, because you don't want to see me with a man! I am not a kid anymore, Tess! I am a grown woman and I know what I do!" You spat at her and turned to walk away, but stopped halfway to speak up again. "And he's not too old for me! We're barely nine years apart! Age is just a number, and love doesn't care about numbers!"

"Fine!" Scoffed Tess. "Go, get your heart broken! I tried to help, but if you don't want to be saved..." You ignored her words completely and stomped back inside the bar. Your eyes scanned the huge room for Daryl - and you found him right where you left him on that lounge sofa; sipping away on his beer.

With the anger at your sister still coursing through your system, you made your way over to the biker. He saw you approaching and wanted to get up, but you quickly pushed him back down with one hand and took the beer out of his hand with the other; placing the cup on the little table behind you. "Wha'-?" Daryl's confused words faded into a low growl as he watched you climb back on his lap - but this time facing him. With your hands on the lapels of his dark blue shirt, you pulled him in for a passionate - almost obscene kiss.

You weren't thinking straight - but this time it were Tess' words that clouded your mind, combined with the feeling of anger. You wanted to get back at her. Show her exactly how you felt about the biker in front of you and how much you enjoyed Daryl's company. In short, you wanted to rub it in her face. Getting your hands on the man you had fallen so helplessly in love with, was 'just' the bonus.

Daryl grunted into the kiss and couldn't help himself but to let his hands wander to your thighs; palms gliding over the clothed skin up to cover your ass and roughly pushing you further down on his hips. The kiss wasn't the only obscene thing going on between you and him. This little gesture was even worse and actually belonged somewhere else, but certainly not inside a bar...

Daryl seemed to be the first to get his thoughts straight again. He retreated from the kiss with now swollen lips and settled his hands on your hips instead of your behind. It was visibly much to your dismay, but Daryl realised that the both of you had to stop, if you wanted to not get thrown out and barred. Kissing and maybe some light making-out was one thing, but dry humping was another.

"Y/N..." He called out your name with a deep, raspy voice; fingers twitching around your hips. "Why ain't we takin' this to my room 'fore we got kicked out, eh?" A soft red hue spread over your cheeks; only now truly realising what your anger made you do. "Yeah," you nodded and softly bit your lower lip. "But not yet," you stated and pressed a last lingering kiss on his lips, before you climbed off of him and turned around again; now facing the room. "Can't waste the good beer, can we?" You took your half empty cup and took a sip. You saw Daryl smirk in the corner of your eye. "Yeah, guess yer right."

Your gaze scanned the crowd of people then and indeed found the one you were looking for... Your sister. She sat at the bar with two friends, but her eyes were directed at you and Daryl. A frown and visible scepticism, mixed with some worry and anger displayed on her face.

She had seen it.

A small, victorious smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Unbeknownst to you, were Daryl's eyes following yours. "Wha' happened with Tess? Wha' did she say?" His words redirected your attention back to him. You shifted slightly on his lap, laid an arm around his shoulders and let your other palm rest on his chest; feeling the cool leather of his angel-winged vest. "Nothing. It's unimportant. Tess just played her big sister card and thinks she knows everything better." Daryl just nodded while chewing on his lower lip. He said nothing, because he knew exactly how older siblings could be sometimes.

A few hours later, you found yourself on Daryl's lap once again, but this time without any clothes on, and the biker stretched out beneath you. His back was pressed against the headboard. While your palms were splayed on his soft stomach for balance, were Daryl's hands on your hips; guiding your movements. "F-Fuck, Daryl..." You breathed as your fingers twitched against his sweaty skin; feeling the fine dark hairs around his navel tickling you. Throwing your head back, you felt close to jumping off that cliff. The man beneath you could tell, of course. He had a hard time holding himself back. He always had. You were simply a goddess in bed.

Preferably in his bed.

"If ya keep doin' that...," he panted; his fingertips digging into your hips and most likely bruising your skin. "... 'm not gonna last." You shook your head and answered almost whimpering: "Y-You don't have to."

That was all Daryl needed to hear. Planting both feet firmly on the bed and slightly bending his strong legs, he started to meet your movements - which was in return enough to send you flying off the edge; free falling down that cliff. A broken cry of ecstasy was the only sound which was able to leave your lips, before you collapsed against Daryl's bulky frame; still somewhere floating on cloud nine.

The man beneath you followed soon with a low, guttural grunt. His hands and arms went limp and collided against the old, saggy mattress.

The both of you laid there in silence for a long moment; bathing in the aftermath, before Daryl rolled you gently over. "I need a smoke now," he said while moving to stand up; the bed squeaking under his weight. After quickly discarding the used condom, he slipped in a fresh pair of boxers and his bathrobe to at least shield his body a little bit from the cool night air. Then he opened the old, rusty window and lit a cigarette.

You just watched him in silence for a while. Admired the view and saw the smoke billow out from between his lips, while he tucked back a few loose, tousled strands of his long hair.

Even now was Daryl the most handsome man you had ever seen.

You couldn't help yourself but to get up and join him, but not without wrapping yourself up in a bathrobe as well. You didn't plan to catch a cold or something at that open window.

You stepped up behind Daryl and wrapped your arms around his middle. He smiled at you over his shoulder; taking another long drag, before holding the cigarette between his thumb and forefinger out to you. "Ya wan' a drag?" Without hesitation, you accepted his offer - not breaking out into a coughing fit this time. Well, it wasn't the second time he offered you... By now you got used to it.

Daryl smirked at you and took the mouthpiece back between his lips.

You leaned your head against his back then with your cheek pressed against his clothed skin as your palms started to wander. Stomach, hips, thighs... Toying with the waistband of his underwear from time to time. You played a dangerous game - and you loved it.

"Ya should be careful with dem hands, lil' cowgirl... Unless ya wanna get me goin' again," the biker growled lowly under his breath; exhaling a puff of smoke as he turned in your loose embrace to face you.

You grinned and innocently shrugged your shoulders; now gently rubbing his chest. "What if I do?"

Daryl growled and quickly reached inside your bathrobe to give your ass a playful swat. "Lil' minx. Yer way less innocent than ya act." You giggled as your hands toyed with the lapels of his gown. "Which is all your fault and doing, Mr. Dixon. You created that monster."

Tags: @dixons-sunshine @angelwings-crossbowstrings @bigbaldheadname @making-the-most-0f-it @imadisneyprincessiswear @loz-3 @fictive-sl0th @erebus-et-eigengrau @belitoxx @coleigh-1205-blog @chaoticevilbakugo @dixonsdarkelf @ffsjustletmesleep @lou12346789 @marvelcasey05 @whore4romance @stitchintimefan @km-ffluv @0-aubrie0 @sweetz1919 @mikaela-granger @secretsicanthideanymore @dilfdixon @txtttttttttttttt @cakesandtom @mayday2007 @huntedmusicgardenn

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[sevikaslapdog]

His wife

Summary: Its been almost ten years since everyone graduated, and they all decided to get back together and have a class reunion.

Warnings: fem reader, use of yn, izuku and reader have the cutest friendship, drinking

You and Katsuki met almost two years after he debuted as a pro hero, of course you knew who he was but that wasn’t why you fell in love with him.

Sure to the world he was snappy, slightly aggressive, but to you he was sweet, patient, and the most caring man in the world.

Now almost eight years later a ring was sitting on your left hand and he had your initials tattooed on his ring finger. Of course he’d rather wear a ring but his job prevented that so the only tattoo he’d ever get was your initials.

This past year your husband had been patrolling more than usual, wanting to work with Izuku every chance he could. Especially now that he had the new suit that Katsuki worked his ass off for.

You worked for Katsuki’s agency since he’d rather die than have you work for someone else, plus it gave him an excuse to see you more.

A couple weeks ago though he got a text from Izuku, talking about how their old class was having a get together for a ‘class reunion’. You remember how he scoffed as he retold the story to you. You smiled at him, nodding while you said “We should go! Plus i’ve been wanting to meet all your old friends!”

Who is Katsuki to say no to his wife?

Which is how he landed himself in this position, watching you hurriedly get ready even though his finished almost a hour ago. You were now finding the perfect jewelry pieces, he sighed as he got up from the couch and went to your shared bedroom.

“No one’s gonna be paying attention to your jewelry woman, we’re gonna be late and we still have to pick up Izuku.” You huffed, closing the clasp to your earring. Turning around to face him, “I’m done, do I look ok?”

His expression softened slightly, he could tell you were nervous. He walked towards your, placing his hands on your hips and pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

“Ya look good, cmon now.” You smiled up at him, placing a soft kiss to his lips before going to grab your purse and phone. He was waiting for you at the door, you smiled at him apologetically since you realized just how much time you actually took.

Twenty minutes later you and Katsuki were parked outside Izuku’s apartment, his car recently broke down since in your husband’s words was ‘a piece of fucking shit.’ You smiled whenever you saw him exiting the building, unlocking the door’s so he could get in.

Although Katsuki would never admit it he was happy you got along with Izuku so well, you two were the most important people in his lives just in different ways. At first he was a bit pissed off years ago whenever you two started becoming friends but the more he matured the more he realized it was a blessing.

Finally the back door opened and Izuku slid into the backseat, closing the door behind him. You turned to face him as he sat in the middle seat, buckling himself up. “Do you think they’ll like me?” Izuku could only smile, looking at the rearview mirror and making eye contact with Katsuki.

He looked back at you with a smile, “Im sure they will yn, there’s really no need to worry. If you’d like I can help and introduce you to Ochako.” You smiled, nodding “Oh yes, I see her on tv sometimes she’s gorgeous.” He nod’s along agreeing with you.

The car is filled with chatter from you and Izuku mostly, Katsuki butting in from time to time as he drives the three of you to the club Momo rented out.

Almost thirty minutes later the car was finally in park, Katsuki turned off the car and turned to you. “Stop being so nervous, everyone will like you.” You’ve already met Kirishima, Denki, Jirou, and Mina. You nodded along, “Ok let’s go.” You quickly got out the car and slid your purse onto your shoulder and making sure you had your phone.

Katsuki smirked knowing you were trying to get out the car so you didn’t chicken out. He and Izuku got out the car and you all walked inside, Katsuki stopped you while Izuku made his way to some people you’ve seen on Tv before. “You sure you’ll be ok? If you’d want to leave we can go.” All you could was nod, turning your head to face him.

“Yea I’m sure, I think i’m gonna go over there with Izuku for a bit. Just to meet some people I don’t already know.” He glanced over to where Izuku was, seeing him with Shoto, Uraraka, and Iida. He hummed, giving your hand a squeeze before you both parted way.

You walked over to Izuku who was standing near the bar with people you recognized, you tapped his arm as he turned to you with a smile. He placed his hand on your shoulder and turned to the small group, “This is yn, kacchan’s wife.” You waved to them, seeing how Uraraka immediately smiled at you.

She immediately smiled, sticking her hand out for you to shake. “Oh my Izuku’s told me about you, i’m so happy to finally get to meet you.” You could already feel yourself coming out of your shell as you shook her hand, glancing over at Izuku with a grateful smile. “It’s nice to meet you too, I would hope its only good things he’s saying.”

She gently pulled her hand away just as someone else talked, you immediately recognized him as Shoto Todoroki. If you were being honest you used to be a big fan of his, always enjoying watching his fights just to see how he used his quirk. “It’s nice to meet you yn, its nice to meet the women who somehow put’s up with Bakugo.”

You could hear Izuku stifle a laugh as you laughed yourself nodding your head, “Its nice to meet you too.”

Soon you comfortably conversed with the group, though the whole time you could practically feel Katsuki’s eyes on you. You knew he just wanted you to feel comfortable, you excuses yourself from the group and walked over to where he was.

He was sitting in a large booth with Kirishima and Mina, and Jirou and Denki. Seeing you walking over he placed his drink down and slid over making room for you, you smiled at him as you sat down.

The group said different greeting’s to you before falling back into the conversation. Though Katsuki’s focus was on you, placing his arm on the back of the booth to rest behind you. “Uraraka was so sweet, and Shoto was honestly really funny.” Katsuki grumbled at the compliment you gave Todoroki. He was aware of your past fangirling for the man and he would always tease you for it.

“Honestly, Im really glad we came.” He smiled at that, brushing his knuckles against your cheek. “Im glad you’re making more friends.” You smiled at him and moved closer towards him, his arm moved from the booth to over your shoulder’s. You both entered the conversation with the group.

As the night went on you had talked to most of the people in the room, besides a few. You and Uraraka had exchanged numbers with smiles on both of your faces as you two made plans. You ended up confessing to Todoroki about your past fan behavior for him, he laughed as you told him. He mentioned it to your husband later that night which caused him to get yelled at as you two laughed.

Finally you and him had just dropped off Izuku, you were driving since Katsuki had a few drinks. The car was quiet besides the air flowing throughout the car, Katsuki shifted around in his seat before speaking “Did you enjoy tonight?” Immediately you smiled again at the memories of the night “Yes I did, me and Uraraka exchanged numbers and we promised to meet up the next time she’s available.”

He stayed silent as he stared at you with a soft smile, he was happy you were making your own friends. He didn’t mind that all of your friends were his, but he was glad you were making your own. “I told you they’d like you.” You glanced over at him with a smile, finally pulling into your neighborhood.

“I guess you were right.” He hummed and the car fell silent again.

Once you two got home you and him got in the shower together, you helped him wash his hair like you do most nights and he helped you with yours. After you were both in pajamas, you and him crawled into bed with him on your chest.

home

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Love That Burns ~ Ending 2 ~ 67

LOVE THAT BURNS MASTERLIST

< previous chapter

Word Count: 2,645ish

Summary: The next few days are full of soft moments that you want to keep close forever.

Notes: Please send in reactions! There’s only 5 more chapters after this. HELP PLAN MY NEW LOGAN SERIES HERE.

Reminder: I DO NOT do taglists. Please don’t ask. Please follow and interact! I appreciate any reblogs, likes, comments, and asks!

Logan didn’t get much sleep that night, replaying your date in his head. It went better than he had hoped and his cheek still tingled where you had kissed it. He went to work in the morning, where it wasn’t an easy day. Things were going wrong left and right, only furthering his exhaustion. When he finally arrived home, Wade had left a note for him saying that he was over at your place for dinner and a movie. The urge to see you quickly beat out the urge to go straight to bed. Logan mustered up the energy to quickly clean up and head over to your apartment.

Logan entered only to be met with the smell of good food and laughter. His tense and tired muscles relaxed instantly. Wade and Laura are sitting at the set table with you finishing up dinner in the kitchen.

“Lo!” You greeted, noticing him coming further into the apartment. You smiled widely at him.

“Hey, doll,” he replied with a tired smile. His body was on autopilot, immediately heading straight over to you. “What can I help you with?”

“I’m all done, but thanks for the offer. Why don’t you go sit down?” You didn’t even think twice about it when your hand came up to his cheek and your thumb began rubbing against it. “You look tired. Are you okay?”

“Mhm,” he hummed, too focused on your hand against his face. His head leaned into your touch.

“Uh… do you two want us to leave you alone?” Laura asked, breaking the bubble that had fell over the two of you.

“Please don’t start having sex right here,” Wade added. “None of us are ready for that.”

You quickly ripped your hand off of Logan and looked away bashfully. Logan glared at Wade before moving to sit down at the table. You quickly gathered up the rest of the food and placed it on the table before sitting down as well.

Dinner was full of light chatter and stolen glances between you and Logan. Before you knew it, dinner was done and cleaned up and you and Logan were sharing the couch while the movie was playing. You kept glancing over at Logan, whose head was bobbing as he fought to keep his eyes open. You leaned over and placed a hand on his arm, catching his attention immediately.

“Why do you go to bed?” You whispered, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I’m fine,” he mumbled with a slight shake of her head.

“Lo.”

“I’m not tired, doll.”

“Mhm,” you rose an unbelieving brow at him. “Lay down.”

“What?”

You tugged at his arm. “Lay down.”

Logan hesitated for a moment, studying you to make sure that you were truly okay with it. He saw nothing but sincerity. Slowly, be moved closer and laid down on the couch. His head rested carefully on your legs while his legs came up  and curled on the couch the best they could. With a slight tremble to your hands, they came up and began carefully carding through Logan’s hair. His breath hitched at the feeling of your fingers in his hair and against his scalp. 

As you continued, Logan couldn’t fight to keep his eyes open any longer. You smiled softly down at him when you saw him finally give into the much needed rest. What you both failed to notice was that Wade and Laura had stopped watching the movie and were focused on the two of you. They kept eyeing each other with large grins on their faces.

Your focused stayed on Logan for the remainder of the movie. You realized with his face so relaxed how much you loved the way his face wrinkled with different emotions. How his crows feet got more prominent when he was smiling and laughing, but now they seemed non-existent. Your thumb brushed against where his crows feet normally showed. Logan was so… handsome. So… pretty. It was unfair that he was that way. You always had believed that, even with your husband. You were realizing how lucky you were to get to appreciate another Logan like this.

The movie ended before you knew it and it was time to go to bed. You leaned down and pressed a kiss to Logan’s head.

“Wake up, Lo,” you whispered. “Movie’s over. Time to go to bed.” 

“No,” he groaned, turning so he was face down in your lap. 

You laughed. “No? What? You’re just going to sleep here tonight?”

One of his arms slipped under your legs while the other came over, holding them close. “My pillow’s nice.”

“I’m not your pillow, Lo.”

He hummed. “But you are… Just sleep right here.”

“So… I’m just gonna head home now,” Wade said, standing up from his chair. “You coming, Peanut?”

Logan huffed, too tired for this shit. “You’re gonna have to carry me to bed, darlin’.”

“What?” You laughed.

“I’m always carrying you to bed, doll. I think it’s time you return the favor.”

“How am I supposed to carry your heavy ass down the hall, Lo? You’re way stronger and heavier than me.”

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes. “I gotta do everythin’ round here.” He tightened his grip on your legs and stood up, throwing you over his shoulder.

“Lo—Logan!” You squealed.

“You said it was time for bed, so I’m carryin’ you to bed.”

You laughed as Logan carried you, slung over his shoulder, all the way to bed. He gently tossed you down on the bed and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Sweet dreams, darlin’,” he cooed. “I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

“Goodnight, Lo,” you whispered.

~~~

“You know, you don’t compliment her enough,” Wade stated as he threw a grape into his mouth.

“What?” Logan questioned, Wade catching him completely off guard. Logan was making breakfast, planning on inviting you and Laura over for it.

“You heard me. You don’t compliment Y/N enough.”

“I compliment her.”

“Uh, rarely.”

“Why are you bringing this up?”

“Because one of the reasons she was nervous for your first date was because she’s insecure about her scars. I tried to help but I’m not the one she wants to—“

“Wait. Insecure about her scars?”

“Yeah, our Little Flame things they make her look ugly.”

The plate of pancakes that Logan was holding fell from his grip and shattered on the floor. He didn’t think twice before he rushed out of the apartment, in nothing but some grey sweats and a white wife-beater. Logan didn’t bother knocking, just barging in. You were standing in the living room, looking for something with a simple towel wrapped around you for coverage. You jumped at the sudden intrusion, clutching the towel closer.

“Logan!” You shrieked. “What—what are you doing? Is everything alright?”

“I— Uh—You,” he was stammering, his mind spinning. Logan hated that you believed you looked ugly when he thought you were the most beautiful person in all of the multiverse. He knew that you were simply standing there in a towel, allowing more of your scars to show, but in each new scenario he saw you in, you only grew more beautiful in his eyes. “You… Doll, I—“

“Lo, are you going to pass out?” You took a few tentative steps toward him, growing concerned. “You’re breathing is off.”

“I’m fine. It just… Darlin’… Fuck. This is… Beautiful.”

“What?”

“You are beautiful.” You stood there, speechless. Logan suddenly grew incredibly embarrassed. “You’re, uh, beautiful and I… well, I thought you deserved to know.” 

Then as quick as he came, Logan was gone, leaving you in shock in the middle of the living room. Laura had witnessed the whole exchange from the hallway and stepped into the living room once Logan had closed the door.

“What the fuck was that?” Laura questioned.

“I have no idea,” you breathed out.

~~~

Logan was actively avoiding you for the rest of the day. He spent a majority of the day at work. You reached out through calls and texts, but he just ignored them. He was embarrassed about this morning. How he barged into your apartment to compliment you. But it was also bothering him that Wade seemed to know everything you needed before he did. Was Logan not actually ready to chase this relationship with you?

You were growing increasingly more concerned with the fact that Logan had been ignoring you for the day. You knew that you should probably be mad, but it truly only made you concerned. He had rushed into the apartment this morning like something was wrong, only to tell you how beautiful you were. It meant a lot to hear that from Logan, but the words were being buried by confusion.

It wasn’t a surprise when Logan didn't come home from work. You knew that he was either still working or out at a bar. You had saved him leftovers from dinner and you were currently waiting at the table to see if you could hear him coming home. His steps were unmistakable. Too heavy for the average man due to his adamantium skeleton. You quickly grabbed the leftovers from the fridge and went out into the hallway. Logan was patting at his jacket, searching for his keys.

“Lo?” You breathed out. He froze. You bit your lip as you took the few needed steps to get to his side. “I saved you dinner.” You offered him the container.

“Thanks,” he muttered, taking the container without looking at you.

“You’ve been avoiding me since this morning.”

“Been busy.”

You nodded, unbelieving. “I’ve been worried.”

Logan’s heart clenched. He didn’t ever want you to be worried about him. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You placed a hand on his arm and rubbed your thumb against it. 

“Sorry about this morning.”

“Oh.”

“I mean, I’m sorry for how I went about it all. Not what I said—Never what I said.”

“So… you believe I’m beautiful?”

Logan nodded, swallowing nervously. “The most beautiful thing I’ve ever laid eyes on.” You gasped, eyes filling with tears. “I meant what I said this morning… I just should have gone about it a different way.”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “It was kinda… cute.” You smirked.

“Cute?”

“Yeah, big bad Wolverine barging into my apartment just to tell me I’m beautiful. It was cute…. And it meant a lot. Thank you. I really needed to hear it.”

“Then I’ll work on telling you more.”

“You don’t need to do that.”

“I want to. You deserve to hear how beautiful you are all the time.”

“You’re too kind, Logan. For a man who has been through hell, I’m so glad you’re kind.” 

You wrapped your arms around Logan and pressed yourself against him. He hugged you back and kissed your head. The two of you held each other in the hallway for a good long moment before you pulled away.

“I should let you get to bed,” you said softly. “Don’t go ignoring me tomorrow, okay?”

“Never again, doll,” he replied, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Goodnight, darlin’.”

“Goodnight, Lo.”

~~~

The next Saturday rolled around and you were planning on getting the courage to see if Logan would like to go on a second date. 

“Mom!” Laura yelled for you from the kitchen as you got ready for the day. 

“What is it, kiddo?” You yelled back.

“The sink is leaking!”

“Shit.” You stopped what you were doing and hurried to the kitchen to see the sink leaking badly. You sighed. “I don’t have it in the budget to call a plumber this month.”

“Well, maybe we could call Logan? He works on cars. Pipes have to be the same thing, right?”

“I guess. I just don't want to bother him.”

“Trust me, if it’s you asking, it’s no bother.”

You looked down sheepishly. “I guess I’ll give him a call.” You pulled out your phone and pressed Logan’s contact. You bit the inside of your cheek nervously as the phone rang.

“Hey, doll,” Logan’s voice sounded from the other side of the phone.

“Hi, Lo. I’m sorry to bug—“

“You never bug me.”

“Uh, well, my sink’s leaking and I don’t really have the funds for a plumber right now and I was thinking—“

“I’ll be right over.”

Logan hung up before you could even respond. Laura was leaning against the wall, a knowing smirk on her face. Within moments, Logan was coming through the door with a toolbox and Wade on his tail. Logan had on a pair of faded jeans and a white wife-beater with a plaid thrown over it. The plaid was open and the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. You licked your lips before sucking in the bottom one as you checked him out.

“It’s the kitchen sink,” Laura told them as you were clearly too busy checking Logan out.

“Yes, your favorite hunky plumber and his beautiful assistant are here to save the day!” Wade exclaimed.

You spoke your head slightly, breaking yourself from the trance Logan’s appearance had put you in. Logan shot you a smile, heading straight for the kitchen sink. Wade jumped up onto the counter, swinging his legs, as Logan crouched down and opened the cabinet under the sink. It wasn’t long before you found yourself sitting at the table with a book in your hands. Though the book wasn’t your focus, it was the handsome man working under the sink. Wade smiled, watching you watching Logan. That’s when he had an idea.

When Logan turned away to look through his tool box, Wade reached down and yanked the pipe loose completely. Water began spraying everywhere.

“Ah, fuck!” Logan exclaimed, fighting through the water to stop it from ruining anything.

“I’m going to grab some towels,” you stated, rushing away.

Logan huffed once he got the water stopped. Both of his shirts were soaking wet and uncomfortable to wear. He pulled off the plaid and the wife-beater, revealing his toned torso.

“Show off,” Wade whistled. “Like she’s gonna fall for a pile of muscles. Our Little Flame is a woman of character.”

“You’re the one who broke the damn pipe,” Logan grumbled. “It’s not like I had much of a choice.”

“Here are the—oh!” You stopped at the edge of the kitchen, taking in the sight before you. You quickly grew hot, steam beginning to come off of you.

“Doll, uh, you’re heating up.”

“I…” you swallowed, unable to pull your eyes away from Logan’s toned muscles. 

“Darlin’, seriously.” Logan was unfazed by his own appearance, too worried that you were going to be in some serious pain. “You need to cool down before you hurt yourself.” He stepped forward and your eyes finally snapped up to his.

“I’m… I’m going to go run some errands.”

“Are you sure? Maybe you need a cool shower or a towel.”

You shook your head, tossing the towels at him. “I’ll be back with lunch.”

Wade laughed as you scrambled to get your things and rush out of the apartment. “Wow, Peanut,” he giggled. “You sure got Buttercup all flustered there.”

“Let’s just get this fixed, Wade,” Logan grumbled, worried about you.

~~~

When you came back with lunch, the sink was all fixed up and Logan had a shirt on.

“Thanks for fixing the sink, Lo,” you said as you laid out lunch.

“Of course, doll,” he replied, grabbing plates and utensils. “Also, in case I haven’t mentioned it today, you look really pretty today.”

You looked away bashfully. “Thanks.”

Logan hooked a finger under your chin and forced you to look at him. “Don’t gotta do that. Look away when I compliment ya. I mean every word I say.”

“I know.”

He pressed a kiss to your head. “Good. I’ll keep telling you so that you remember and hopefully one day you start believe it all.”

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