#this is why I'd let him do terrible things to me I don't want him to become a nice soft gentleman for me. this is SEXY

[egg-emperor]

Can you even blame me for the way I am when in my second Sonic game and first game where I really got to know Eggman, he says things like this

Calling himself my master. Telling me to know my place. Demanding that I obey him and follow his orders like a good boy and threatening to absolutely obliterate me if I don't. Saying I was asking for it when he punishes me, getting very violent and aggressive, calling me an idiot and saying he needs to teach me a lesson.

Sir yes sir I AM ON MY FUCKING KNEES 😍💜💘💕dhsbfjsnfjsnfbsjgb

[mad-hunts]

roleplay idea: barton's trying to say this BS that he's 'good at processing grief' when your muse was a witness to the absolute rage-filled and deranged rampage that barton went on after julien was killed by the joker in which he brutally hurt all but one of his henchmen (he killed the last one because he told him he was 'crazy' and that he 'better kill him, or he was going to tell his boss that barton had been there' and he literally just snapped, went 'you know what, i think i will kill you AND also let the joker know i killed you so he knows to never come near my family again' then killed him. like HUHHH?) at the time with your muse being like this

[chxrry-lv]

니키 - Sneaking in - - — -> N.NK

Synopsis -> After a long day, Niki just wants cuddles from his girlfriend.

Pairing -> TiredBf!Niki x SleepyGf!FemReader.

Warning -> None!

*ೃ༄ click here - WC -> 0.8k

DESC - ✿︑︒⚬∙︓·⠄ This is my only account!! any other account that has my work! Please don't be afraid to P.M me and help take it down.. & All works under - #✶.enha

Niki held his breath as he slowly and quietly closed the window of your dorm room.

He closed the curtains so you wouldn't be bothered by the moonlight.

It's late, nearing two in the morning, and he knows after the day you had you've got to be in a deep sleep now.

He didn't want to wake you. At least, not yet.

So he tried to be as quiet and as careful as he possibly could.

But that was a little easier said than done as he walked through your room and had to be careful not to step or trip on anything you might have on the floor.

He soon began to tiptoe to your bed and finally, he reached it.

He breathed out a sigh of relief and then quietly took his shoes off before she crawled under the covers with you.

He wanted to get here much sooner than this but he's been busy since early this morning and just finished everything he had to do today an hour or so ago.

It felt like time had just dragged on today.

He was completely exhausted and felt very stressed.

His day was, honestly, terrible; one of the worst that's one of the reasons why he snuck in so late tonight.

Because until now, he didn't have the chance to see you and he needs cuddles from you more than he ever has before.

He curled up with you and put his arms around you to hold you tight.

But as he did so, his hand fell to your back, and your eyes flew open at the feeling.

At first, you had no idea that it was him.

The only thing you knew was it was late and dark and someone was in your bed.

You almost screamed but Niki felt you jump and was quick to shush you before you made a sound.

"Shh. Baby, it's just me."

"Nini?" You mumbled sleepily and turned over to face him. "What are you doing here? How did you get into my dorm room?"

"I snuck in through your window." He said.

"You climbed all the way up here?"

"Yeah." He answered as he tangled his legs with yours.

"I don't think you've ever done that before. Are you alright? Not that I'm complaining but it's after two am. Why are you here?"

"I had a very bad day." He sighed as you began to brush your fingertips across his skin. "It was just awful. One of the worst I've had in quite some time. I'm exhausted and I'm so stressed out and I just need some cuddles."

"Oh, niki," you cooed and curled up as close as you could, holding onto him tightly. "I'm so sorry to hear that. I know things have been hard for you lately. I'm more than happy to give you all the cuddles you want."

"Thank you." He spoke softly as he kissed your head.

"Do you want to talk about it? You can tell me anything you want to get off your chest. I'll listen to every word."

"I know you will, my love. But no. I'd rather just hold you. I want to try and forget about the entire day if I can and just hope that tomorrow is better."

"Baby, I'm sure it will be." You said as you played with his hair.

"You deserve the world. I have hope that tomorrow will be a much better day. You deserve it."

"Thank you." He said and for the first time all day, he cracked a real and genuine smile.

"Are you warm? Have some of my blanket." You said and covered him up with your blanket, letting her have as much of it as he wanted.

"The day is over, baby. You're okay now. You're here with me. I've got you."

Your words were so sweet and so comforting and they helped to make him feel so much better.

"You're the best thing that has ever happened to me." He softly spoke as he brushed his fingers across your back. "I don't know what I'd ever do without you. You're so sweet and I'm just so in love with you."

"Niki, I'm so in love with you. You don't ever have to wonder what you'd ever do without me because I'm not going anywhere. Not ever. I promise."

He closed his eyes and let out a long sigh.

Sometimes, those worries creep into his brain.

He just needs you to remind him that you're never leaving.

Because you know he isn't ever either.

"I know it was a bad day but you don't have to worry about a thing anymore. It's all over. It's just us now. I'll cuddle you until the sun comes up. I won't let go."

He smiled for a few seconds, until you put your lips on his and gave her a sweet kiss.

"Get some rest. I love you, angel."

"I love you more, sweet girl." He said and held you tighter as you put your head on his chest and closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep together.

©chxrry-lv

[theeroins]

If I say that I'm not used to people misinterpreting my favorite characters, I'd be lying. But the way they get so many things wrong about Inho's character is kinda pissing me off because you KNOW that most of them do it to cancel out the possibility of InHun being *something* more than what's shown so far. You don't ship them, that's fair, frankly I don't care. Everyone's entitled to their own opinion UNTIL your opinion is wrong.

Let's talk about a couple of things I've seen being talked about on tiktok (🙄)

“Inho joined the games because ilnam said that it'd basically be more fun to play than to watch so he followed his example." loud incorrect buzzer ! Inho has joined the games before, and not only that, he's also a previous winner, so therefore he's very much aware of what it's like to be a part of it, he's experienced them first hand, just like he's experienced the atrocities of it. they've changed him for the worst and possibly caused him a huge trauma —they're the reason he's lost faith in humanity after all— so, why would he crave to relive it just for the thrill of it? i, personally doubt he even enjoys watching the game.

“Inho didn't look at Gihun with love, he likes to watch him suffer��� Short answer is no. He doesn't like to watch him suffer, neither he looked at him with love, not the pure kind of love at least. Two things can be true at once. Inho spent half the season staring at Gihun because everything about the man intrigued him; His determination, his stubbornness, his kindness, his hope, his heart that's full of love despite the pain he suffered, even the pain in his eyes every time someone got eliminated in front of him as if it was the first time it had happened, as if the cruelty of it all surprised him every damn time. How can someone, who's been through the same things Inho has been through, be the polar opposite of him?

now, the reason(s) that I think Inho actually joined the games for..

(yes I am an Inhun shipper, does that make my opinion a little biased? maybe. do i still believe I'm right? absofuckinglutely.)

Let me clarify this: Inho is NOT a good man, no matter the redemption arc he might get in s3, he'll continue to be a terrible person because nothing will ever erase the blood he's spilled and the evil men he's worked for. BUT at the same time, he's not ALL bad, not like the VIPS and ilnam. See, Inhun are the average "yin-yang" trope in fictional romance, (which I eat up every time and I find it very interesting when it's done the right way, don't get me wrong) Inho is bad but there's some goodness somewhere deep inside him. And the only person who's brought it to the surface is Gihun. Sure, he does think Gihun is naive, but he's also the only person who's actually challenged him, who's "forced" him to get his stupid head out of the dirt and look around him, even for a short while and Inho definitely liked what he saw. Honestly, it wasn't even that hard for Gihun to do so because the goodness in Inho wanted and waited for someone to pull him out of the dirt, he wished for someone, something to give him hope for humanity or.. anything. Anything that'll help him escape from his misery.

You can definitely argue that he joined the games to befriend Gihun, to gain his trust and stop his plans when the time comes, which is half true. But keep in mind that he needed to justify his choice to join the games. He's not a VIP nor the mastermind to simply get to do that without consequences. He's the frontman, the one who controls and manages everything. He's needed for the games to work and go by smoothly and successfully without unnecessary losses and problems. Gihun would only cause problems, Inho knew that very well and yet he chose to put him in it once again. He recklessly made that choice, risking pretty much everything because of his inner conflict. A part of him wanted Gihun to prove himself to him, that there's indeed good that'll save the world and the rest of him wanted to prove to Gihun that everything he so strongly believes in is merely a fantasy.

Joining the games and befriending Gihun was the only way for Inho to see the real him, without the heroic mask he puts on every time he faces the frontman. I think he believed that someone as extraordinary as Gihun will either break in front of him and he will end up disappointed by the human kind once again, or Gihun will change everything about the way he thinks for the better. But the problem is that Inho hopes for both of those things at the same time.

And that was Inho's arc in season 2. His inner conflict and how it will affect him, the game and Gihun later on.

[tricksters-captain]

Declan O'Hara imagine - I'm not doing this.

A/N: I thought about this one shot weeks ago... finally writing it. Probably been done already by someone else but who isn't obsessed with rivals atm. I also haven't written in years.

Summary: Declan is fighting against himself and everything he believes in when you come into the picture.

Warnings: Age Gap, fem!reader, NSFW content 18+, strong language, bit of a slow burn.

"Taggie, honestly, I don't know why you'd ever willingly add Brussel sprouts to anything." You chuckled as you both crept through the door to the kitchen.

"They're good for you!" Taggie tried to defend her culinary choices for her Sunday lunch.

"If they're good for you then I always want to be bad."

"Who's being bad?" A thick Irish accent filled the room as Taggie's dad sauntered in, a mug of coffee in one hand with his other burrowed deeply into his trouser pocket.

"Dad, this is (Y/N). (Y/N) was just objecting to my sprouts."

"Oh yeah, I agree, terrible things. Even the dog won't eat 'em" Declan brought his mug to his lips, smirking through the thick moustache that hid his upper lip.

You felt your insides alight at his dark, playful expression as he teased Taggie.

That was the first time you knew you were a bad friend. A bad friend who wanted your new friend's father to lift you onto the kitchen table and bury his head between your thighs.

The thought made your cheeks burn red as you laughed at Declan's remark and Taggie's complaints against him.

The man left the kitchen when his eyes flitted back to you, sending you a nod and a 'lovely to meet you, (Y/N). '

You couldn't help but replay the way he said your name in your head over and over and over again until you were desperate for his voice to sing it again.

The next time you saw Declan O'Hara was at the O'Hara New Years Eve party.

"You better not spend the whole time in here. I'd actually like you to put a dress on and come out to dance at some point tonight." You pleaded with Taggie as she clasped your necklace for you.

"I'll try but I can't make any promises. Anyway, you're out there to be my eyes and ears. You need to tell me if anyone complains about the food, okay?"

"Yes, Taggie. But no one will because you are amazing and your food is amazing and you are so right for not letting me help you cook or serve after I burnt the soup last time." You faced her as she continued to prep the ingredients she would need for the feast she had planned.

"You are a great friend but you are a terrible cook." Taggie agreed. You felt a lump in your throat at the words. Were you a great friend for literally fantasising over her father after almost every time you had an interaction with him? "Now please go next door and make sure that all the tables have the right cutlery for me?"

"Anything for you, Agatha!" You headed to do as you were told. Looking down to smooth out your dress when you felt yourself collide with something solid.

"I'm so sorry!" You looked up to see Declan turning, laughing softly at your clumsiness.

"It's okay, love." Declan's own eyes fell down your body, his lips parting slightly as he took in the sight of you all dressed up. He knew you were an attractive girl but you were Taggie's age and one of her only friends in the surrounding neighbours beside Lizzie. "You look beautiful."

The sincerity in his voice caused a chill to roll up your spine.

"Thanks. You look very handsome too, Mr. O'Hara." You didn't know why you felt so shy around him. You were so used to owning your space and holding your confidence when you fancied someone.

"That's very kind, (Y/N). And it's Declan. I don't want to tell you again." Declan send you a wink as he started to pass you. "Hey, and no snogging my son at midnight. You're way too good for him."

Your heart squeezed at the taunt. Patrick was a gorgeous boy and he had tried to flirt with you when he met you but you were far too interested in Declan for Patrick to make any dent in your crush.

"He's not my type anyway." You managed to find your tongue to quip back an answer.

"Good girl."

Good Girl.

You had to bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself replying something entirely inappropriate in response.

As the night went on, you felt your heart drop more and more. Declan was obsessed with his wife. His wife was obsessed with anyone else.

You were desperate to try and make more conversation with the man but almost everyone was grabbing his attention to discuss some work matter or other.

As the countdown began, you gut wrenchingly watched as Maud and Declan kiss. You put on a smile and exchanged celebrations with those around you. Giving Lizzie a kiss on the cheek as her husband blanked her as he usually did.

"Happy New Year, chicken." Lizzie pressed on a faux smile as you did.

"Happy New Year, Lizzie."

"A little advice for your new years resolution if I may?" Lizzie whispered as she drew you closer.

"You may want to get better at hiding your admiration for Taggie's father. I know nothing hurts more than something you can't have." Lizzie's words took you back, you felt your cheeks burning red and your smile drop.

"Oh, Lizzie, I'm mortified! Please don't tell Taggie." You begged.

"Not a peep." Lizzie motioned locking her lips with a key before grabbing your hands to singing sway along with the room.

The night went on and Lizzie tried to encourage you to join in festivities. You drank more and more, being forced away whenever you tried to help Taggie wash up, and you soon found yourself needing some quiet time.

You let yourself into Declan's office, leaning against the desk, fingers gripping the underside to give you some stability when the room started to ever so slightly spin.

You closed your eyes. Inhaling a shaky breath when you heard the door creek open.

"I thought someone unwanted had decided to sneak through my things." Declan's melodic accent forced your eyes open.

"I'm wanted, am I?" You smirked slightly, through the sickness as your eyelids closed again.

Declan didn't respond. Instead he just studied you from across the room. His hands in his pockets, his stance leaning back just ever so slightly.

"You struggling there?" Declan was amused at your state.

You tried to push yourself off the desk but instead felt yourself stumble forward.

Declan's amusement quickly turned into concern as he stepped forward to catch you.

"Steady on." Declan had managed to stop you from hitting the floor, your face pressed against his chest, his strong arms engulfing you as he pulled you up towards him.

"I'm so sorry..." You mumbled as you leant away to look up at him.

His features were so strong up close. You could smell the whisky on his breath as your eyes lingered on his lips.

"Maybe we should get you some water and put you to bed."

Declan's words drew your eyes to his own. His chest seemed to go tight as he starred down into your glassy (Y/E/C) eyes.

"You can take me to bed any time you want, Mr O'Hara." Your words slurred together with your weak attempt of drunkenly flirting.

"It's Declan."

"Okay, Declan..."

That was the first time Declan had heard you say his name. Something inside him knew he wanted to hear you say it again but he fought against the thought, pulling away from you as you gained your stance.

"Let's hope you don't remember this in the morning, ay?" Declan tried to make light, convincing himself the electric feeling he had was nothing.

"Why? I finally got my chance in your arms. My dream come true."

"Yeah, you really won't want to remember this in the morning. Come on..." Declan opened the door, waiting for you to follow suite. The noise of the party echoed around you; you had almost forgot it was still going on outside.

"Have you ever thought about me?" You had no idea where this liquid confidence had stirred from.

There was a pause before he answered.

"No." He was lying. He knew he was lying. He watched the disappoint subtly encase your eyes as you pursed your lips into a thin smile.

"If I was dreaming, you would've said yes. Goodnight, Mr O'Hara."

"Goodnight, (Y/n)."

-------------------------------------------------------

As the weeks went on, rivals became friends. Friends became rivals. You grew closer to the O'Hara family and the moment from NYE had simply been forgotten. Or so you thought...

The dread that had filled your gut that New Years Day after you remembered the incident brewed inside of you for weeks. You had successfully avoided Declan, only seeing him in group scenarios and meetings for Venturer.

"(Y/N), I left some of my flyers on the table in the living room if you want to use them." Taggie climbed into her car, shouting over at you as she rushed off. You both had been going door to door for Venturer in different areas to cover more ground but you had run out of flyers to hand out.

"Thanks, Tag!" You rushed inside, running through the house that still held a cool air inside despite the early summer warmth outside.

"Careful!" You heard a voice proclaim as your bodies hit.

Within the blink of an eye, you had hit the floor with a body on top of you.

"Are you alright?" Declan groaned as you winced underneath his weight. The hard floor sent a wave of pain through your back but you had managed to not hit your head.

"Ow." You grumbled, squeezing your eyes shut.

"Did you hit your head?" Declan propped himself up on his arms, examining your face with a furrowed brow of worry.

"No." Was all you managed to say.

"I thought we had left bumping into each other for last year." Declan recalled on when you knocked into him last New Years Eve before the party had started.

"Clearly I'm not very good at keeping to New Year's resolutions."

Declan chuckled, pushing himself up before offering his hand.

You felt the warmth of his body leave you and the coldness of the floor pierce your bones.

You took his hand; hauling yourself to your feet.

"You sure you're okay?" Declan insisted. His hand reached out to take grip of your waist, his thumb and finger burning against your skin that had been revealed by the edge of your venturer top riding up. His other finger waved past your eyes, checking for concussion.

"I'm fine. No more running in the house with blind corners." You took a step back from the man, straightening your shirt to try and control the lingering feeling of the mans hand on you.

"Now... are we okay?" Declan rephrased,

"What do you mean?"

"(Y/N), don't play stupid. You've avoided me for almost half a year now. You won't even walk around the house without Caitlin or Taggie next to you."

You didn't think that Declan would've noticed with how busy he was with work and his life. Why would he have cared where you were or what you were doing in the house?

"I'm still living down my behaviour at New Years." You reluctantly admitted.

"What, that? Everyone says stuff they shouldn't when they've had a few too many. Doesn't mean you have to never look me in the eye again."

"What I said was completely inappropriate."

"Yes, it was. You're the same age as my daughter and I'm a married man but I'll have to admit I'm a little flattered." Declan tried his best to ease your anxiety. "I don't exactly see myself a teenage heart throb."

"I'm not a teenager." You bit back, the harshness your voice surprising you both.

"There's not much difference. You're practically a child and should be going for someone your own age." Declan quit the joking tone he had been using, taken back by your defence.

"Don't call me a child. I'm not the same age as Caitlin. I am older than Taggie and I've been with men before so I'm not playing silly little girl games over here. This isn't some school girl crush on a handsome teacher. You're right my feelings for you are inappropriate because you're a married man and I'm friends with your daughter but not because of my age. I know who I am and what I feel." A fire lit up your chest as you finally had broken out of the timidness you hated.

"You have no idea what you're talking about." Declan took a step closer to you, his stare burning into you as he lowered his voice.

"You're the one who reads people. Tell me what you see in me." You matched him, standing so close to him you could feel his breath on your face as you gritted your teeth.

The air was thick. The silence of the house engulfing you both, your breath audible and quick. You thought you could almost hear your heart thudding against your chest.

Declan was the one to break away. Storming to his office with a hard slam of the door.

How did your conversation turn so heated?

That night Declan tossed and turned, his head filled with moments of you. He rolled over and gently woke up his wife with soft strokes on her shoulder blades.

"What?" Maud hummed, rolling her head over her shoulder to Declan.

"I'm awake." Declan pressed himself against his wife.

"I can feel that." Maud looked at him through a sleepy gaze.

"Let me touch you." His fingers glided over her skin until he reached the space between her legs. Maud moaned quietly as Declan began to part her folds with his finger.

"Declan..." Maud sighed as she pressed her backside into him, feeling his member hard against her.

Declan wasted no time in entering her. He closed his eyes as his dick pressed inside his wife. And all he could see through the darkness was your eyes looking up at his. The first time he had seen you in the kitchen. The bump in the hall, the incident in his study, every time he had caught you intensely listening to one of his speeches to the group, the crash against the floor. You underneath him. The tiny bit of skin his hand had managed to caress from the bottom of your shirt.

He had never thought of you before. Not with Maud, not with his own hand and imagination and he couldn't make sense of why that night he finished almost as fast as his inexperienced teenage self had once before.

-----------------------------------------------------------

It had been Declan's turn to avoid you from that day. He couldn't be too close to you without feeling his throat go dry, a sickening guilt and twisting conflict rising with it.

It was the evening you'd find out whether Venturer was a real contender against Corrinium.

The O'Hara house was filled with people eagerly waiting except one who had decided to leave the house for good.

The house erupted in cheers and celebrations as the phone call confirmed it for you all.

You watched through the window as Maud drove off, leaving Declan and Taggie behind.

"We did it!" Taggie squeezed you tightly before embracing her father and to your surprise, Declan had also pulled you into a tight hug. You had hoped no one picked up on the slight awkwardness that left the embrace when Declan moved onto join the others. You couldn't help but feel it.

The party went on and you tried to keep an eye on Declan without making it too obvious (like Rupert and Taggie had failed to).

When Rupert left Declan's side for another whiskey, (Taggie swiftly disappearing just after), Declan slipped away to his study. You followed.

"I'm sorry about Maud." You made your presence known as you watched him place his glass down on the desk, his back to you when he replied.

"Don't."

"Fine." You clenched your jaw, unsure of what to say next at the warning in his tone.

"What do you want from me?" Declan's voice had a hint of desperation. He turned to face you. You had seen this look before.

"I don't––"

"––No 'cause you followed me in here. You are everywhere I look. I can't even get a wink of sleep most nights without dreaming of two things. You or beating Tony fucking Baddingham. And I can't think of you because you're young enough to be my daughter and I'm a fucking hypocrite for telling Rupert to stay away from Taggie when I look at you in that dress and wonder what you would look like with it on this floor right now. I'm not doing it. I can't do this."

Declan's outburst kept your feet frozen in place. Had he really just admitted to wanting you as badly as you wanted him.

You felt your hand roll the zipper of your dress down your side, your body moved without force as you slipped the straps over your shoulders and let it fall to the floor.

"Fuck..." Declan barely breathed out the word. His stare devouring every inch of your skin.

"I'm not doing this." Declan uttered again barely even audible as if only to himself before striding towards you. His fingers found your hips as he thrust you against the door.

His lips were on yours before your back found the solid wood behind you.

You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling yourself up towards him, trying to bring your body as close to his own as possible. You needed every gap between you gone. You wanted to feel the heat of him even on this sticky summer evening.

"What am I doing?" Declan broke away and dropped to his knees, placing a firm hand on the middle of your stomach to hold you flush against the door.

There was a deep hunger in his eyes as he lifted one of your thighs up onto his shoulder, never breaking his gaze from your face to almost check if what he was doing was allowed.

You threw your head up, trying to find the air he had stolen from you, one hand finding a grip within his dark curls as your welcome reply.

"Please." You whispered.

Declan moved your panties to the side, a finger running over your folds, sending fire against your skin before he closed his mouth around you.

You let your eyes roll back as his tongue darted across your clit. Electricity filled your body with every moment of contact.

You felt his fingers circle lightly around your entrance. Your hand jumped from his thick curls to tightly grip the back of his own that pushed against your stomach. His grip on you felt as if it were all that was holding you up.

"You want me this badly?" Declan asked with a mixture of teasing and shock. The wetness of your heat coated the tip of his fingers and glistened on the dark hairs of his moustache.

"I've imagined this so many times." You admit honestly.

"I best live up to your expectations then." Declan inserted a finger inside of you, causing a sharp gasp to escape your lips, which made Declan's cock twitch inside his boxer shorts. "Shhhh"

You placed your free hand over your mouth to which Declan smiled a toothy grin at you.

"Good girl" he purred.

Declan rose to his feet as he placed another finger inside of you, thrusting them in and out of you in a painfully slow motion that only made you ache for more.

Declan turned the lock on his door with his other hand before pulling himself away from you completely.

You pouted at the lack of contact to which he tutted.

"So impatient." He uttered as he undid his belt, pulling it from its loops and then kicking his trousers down.

Your eyes fell on the large member pressed against his underwear. The tip seeping precum through the material in a dark stain.

"Go to my desk." Declan ordered.

You almost ran over, Declan caught you by the waist and lifted you up onto it. Spreading your legs with his knee.

"Are you sure you want this?" Declan stripped himself of his shirt, revealing his chest covered with dark thick hair that you reached out to touch. This didn't feel real.

"More than anything." The words were so quiet but Declan seemed to hear them as he freed himself from his underwear.

You reached behind and unclasped your bra.

"Jesus..." He took a handful of your breast, squeezing you firmly as he stroked his member.

"Declan, please." You couldn't wait any longer. The ache pained you.

Declan didn't need to be told twice.

He tore your underwear down your legs and pressed his tip slowly into you.

You bit down on your lip hard to stop yourself from making any noise.

"Holy fuck..." Declan failed at being quiet. You were so tight against him he felt he could've finished inside of you within minutes.

You reached forward and hooked a grip behind his neck, encouraging him deeper inside of you.

"Fuck me please." you pleaded, trying to move your own hips to create some friction.

Declan took the hint and began thrusting into you quickly. His fingers almost bruising your skin as he held you steady on the desk.

The rattle of the belongings on the desk seemed to echo around the room alongside the slapping of skin.

Declan lifted you up, still inside of you and gently placed you down on the floor.

He hovered above you, just like he had once before, watching your face twist in pleasure as he fucked you.

You squeezed his shoulders, your nails leaving an impression whilst he brought you closer to your climax. You pressed your hips up into his creating hot friction against your clitoris, making you throb inside.

"Declan..." You tried to let him know; still trying to whisper to stay quiet.

"Cum for me, princess." Declan smirked, his stare never faltering as he rode you through to your end. He could feel you tighten around him only encouraging him to fuck you harder and deeper.

You bit down on your hand as your climax convulsed through you. Your body shaking in between Declan and the floor.

Declan moved you both effortlessly, lying on his back with you sat on top of him.

You leant ever so slightly forward, steadying yourself with your hand stretched out against his chest.

You smiled wickedly at him as you rolled your hips.

You felt exhausted by your own finish but knew you wanted to see the older man in the same state.

"That's a good girl." Declan held onto your hips, helping you pick up your pace.

His lips parted as he watched you ride him, sweat dripping down your skin mixing with his own as his dick twitched inside of you.

"Fuck (Y/n)." Declan cursed.

You shifted your hand to his neck, Declan almost laughed, flipping you again so that he was behind you. Both of you on your knees as he held you against his chest, his hand wrapped firmly around your neck with his opposite arm securely around your middle.

The sensation was almost unbearable as his thick member pumped in and out of you at such speed.

"You think you want to be a bad girl?" Declan hissed in your ear.

You could only shake your head.

"Bad girls get punished." Declan bit hard down on your shoulder and you fought to not cry out in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

"You're mine now." Declan's own proclamation brought himself to his own climax. He pulled out, spilling his seed over his own thighs to avoid finishing inside of you much to your own disappointment.

"I know you wanted that inside of you like the dirty girl you are." Declan teased you as he gave your throat one final soft squeeze.

You fell against him, both trying to catch your breath.

"Declan?" A voice and a knock came at the door.

"Shit..." The realisation of what had just happened and where it just happened hit Declan like a cricket bat to the face.

"I'll be out in a mo." Declan scrambled for his underwear and you did the same.

"Hurry up! I know that's where you're hiding the good stuff!" Bas' voice was more evident now and whilst he was definitely talking about the whiskey. The both of you couldn't help but laugh.

[miraculouslbcnreactions]

Keep hearing people say maribug keep asking adricat if he's ok and he keep saying he's ok instead of telling her his problem but I don't remember it happened more than once in s4 in Rockettear but even then the circumstances of that episode did warrant the "nothing" answer he gave her unless he want to tell her that "nino tell me you let nino and alya know each other identity" which will reveal adricat identity. So when else did she ask? about the thing in hack-san, I think another credit goes to alya since she's the one who bring the topic to maribug who seems to be blissfully unaware that her leaving without telling adeicat that she send subtitute would be a problem.

I didn't get into this side of things in my other post because it was long and I wanted to focus on why Chat Noir's behavior was so frustrating, but this ask brings up the other big reason why the season four conflict was such a frustrating and terribly written plot line. Specifically, the part of your ask where you point out that Maribug seems blissfully unaware that her actions are having a negative impact on Chat Noir until someone points it out to her.

Yes, she is presented as blissfully unaware of this and every other interpersonal conflict we're given in season four. Your ask treats this as a failing on Maribug's part as if she should have obviously realized that she was in the wrong, but that's the whole problem. Telling kids - telling anyone really - that they should just magically know what others need is a frankly terrible life lesson as that's just not how the world works. You cannot just assume that everyone will have the same view of the world as you do and instantly pick up on the same issues as you do. That is the path to easily avoidable frustration and conflict. It also teaches people to assume that their view of the world is inherently correct when that is rarely the case. We often don't know the whole story and the other person's point of view may end up being equally or even more valid. This issue is extremely present in season four as Marinette has legitimate reasons to behave the way she does, which I'll get into in a bit.

If Marinette were written as feeling guilty about how she was treating Chat Noir, then this would be a different story. She'd be way more in the wrong and would shoulder a much greater portion of the blame. But as is? She has no idea that she's doing anything wrong. And until someone takes the time to tell her that her actions are causing harm, she is going to continue causing harm because she has no idea that she's causing harm.

In fact, I'd argue that the Alya thing in Hack San is a point in Maribug's favor. Throughout the episode, we see Marinette sending Alya messages on ways to be a good partner to Chat Noir, proving that she does in fact care about him. And then, as soon as Alya says, "You need to talk to Chat Noir," what does Maribug do?

She goes and talks to Chat Noir, giving him a pretty good apology for the problem she now knows she caused. Because, shockingly, Maribug doesn't actually want to hurt her partner. She also clearly cares about his feelings, making me want to take the season four conflict and tear it into itty bitty pieces because what is the conflict even supposed to be when you write shit like this?

I want to briefly step away from Miraculous and talk about this issue in a broader context via this YouTube short:

This short is from a Vietnamese woman who moved to Germany. Her YouTube channel is about her experiences there, including things like the short above which goes into the differences between what it means to be a dinner guest in Vietnam and what it means to be a dinner guest in Germany. In Vietnam, it's apparently standard for the guests to cook dinner with you where as, in Germany, you're expected to have the meal ready when the guests arrive, making this a situation where it's super easy to come across as rude just by doing what you think is normal.

Society is relatively aware that these types of culture clashes are a thing, but you don't have to be from different cultures to have these types of situations. Every person has their own unique needs and ideas of what "normal" is. The culture they were raised in will affect this, but so will their family, their personal needs, and many other factors. Two people can be raised on the same street and wind up with wildly different world views even though they supposedly share a culture. This is extra true when you add in compounding factors like neurodiversity, which is why it's an exercise in futility to say, "But Maribug should have realized..."

Well, she clearly didn't. And you can't change that she didn't realize whatever you're mad about. All you can do is have someone tell her what she's doing wrong. If she then continues the behavior, go ahead and judge away. But if she immediately corrects it like she did in Hack San? Doesn't that just prove that she truly didn't know that Chat Noir was hurting and would have probably fixed all of his problems if someone just pointed them out to her?

This is only exacerbated by the fact that Marinette's behavior in season four is largely unchanged from her behavior in previous seasons. The only major change is that she revealed her identity to Alya, but as soon as that's pointed out as a problem, she course corrects with an apology. After that, she thinks that everything is okay because why wouldn't she? Chat Noir said it was fine and everything else has been business as usual.

Bringing temp heroes into help as needed? That's been going on since season two. Having these additional members has been vital in multiple battles and there have been plenty of times where Chat Noir took a background role to the temp hero of the day like in Sapotis, Rena Rouge's season two debut. So why would Maribug suddenly think that this dynamic is a problem when it's been working fine for so long? We even had a whole episode about how Chat Noir was still needed in spite of the new heroes back in season three! Or, at least, I think that was Desperada's message? This show is shockingly bad at giving clear lessons.

Keeping guardian knowledge from Chat Noir? That's also been going on since season two and was even treated as a conflict that supposedly got resolved in the episode Syren which was the episode that ended with Master Fu coming to the mansion to talk to Adrien after everything was over.

When I watched that episode, I assumed this meant that Chat Noir was going to be more involved in things like picking the temp heroes. I actually thought this was how we were going to get Queen Bee because I knew she was going to be a thing, but it made no sense for Marinette to pick Chloe for a miraculous. Of course, I was wrong. Nothing changed after Syren. Chat Noir remained nothing more than the comic relief while Ladybug got all the insider info.

To be clear, I think that was a terrible move writing wise, but it doesn't change the fact that this is what they went with. This is the established dynamic. I can't even say that Alya learning Marinette's secret led to something new. She's just taken Marinette's old role while Marinette has taken on Master Fu's old role. This show loves it's status quo and Chat Noir has been at least tolerant of that status quo since Syren, so it's not surprising that Maribug doesn't register that this is a thing that should change and no one bothers to point it out to her even though she has a mentor in Tikki (and Su Han, I guess?) and a confidant in Alya and a whole slew of Kwamis who could also provide insight if they were allowed to do that sort of thing. (Sass and Wayzz were robbed of mentor roles.) Additional blame goes to Plagg because he should absolutely have told Adrien to talk to Ladybug. What is the point of giving these characters mentors who never mentor? It's aggravating in the extreme.

To circle back to the first part of your ask, outside of Hack San and Rocketear, I don't think there are any times when Ladybug invites feedback from Chat Noir unless you want to give credit to the end of Kuro Neko:

Cat Noir: (lands next to her) I've been a really temperamental kitty, m'lady. I didn't realize how much trouble I'd make for you by giving back my Miraculous. Ladybug: (sits closer to him) Just because I don't need you all the time doesn't mean that I don't need you at all, Cat Noir. No one could ever replace you.

Which isn't Maribug inviting him to tell her what's up, but she is clearly willing to listen to him and reassure him, further backing up my point about this conflict being some of the worst writing I've ever had to suffer through. If Maribug always fixes the issue as soon as she learns about it, you are not writing a situation where she's clearly in the wrong. You are writing an easily solved communication issue where she gets blamed for something she clearly doesn't realize she's doing wrong and it is so frustrating!!! I feel so bad for her. The next episode is Penalteam, btw, which starts the battle with this gem:

Ladybug: (laughs) Nice scare tactics, but it's not gonna work. Cat Noir and I are the best at soccer! Cat Noir: (Whispers to Ladybug) I don't know a thing about soccer M'lady. Maybe it's time to call the real team?

And basically just spends the whole episode making Chat Noir seems like a worthless partner while Maribug tries her best to make him - and everyone else - feel special.

Oh, and the episode before Kuro Neko? Well, it's technically Ephemeral, but that got magically overwritten so let's go one further back and we get to Dearest Family, which ends with this:

Cat Noir: (grabs a golden paper crown on the coffee table) Since I'm the king, (wears the crown on his head) would you be my queen, Ladybug? Ladybug: With pleasure, kitty cat! Tradition is tradition!

Oh yes, these two are in such conflict and Maribug does nothing to validate Chat Noir. He's in pain every episode and she's just totally oblivious to it.

If that was what they wrote, then I'd probably agree that we needed more instances of her asking if Chat Noir was okay. But it's not what they wrote. If you look through the list of season four episodes, you'll find that less than half of them deal with the supposed conflict of the season (by my count, only 8 of the 24 episodes before the final actually showcase the conflict and they are not in a logical order in terms of escalation as I tried to demonstrate above). The rest of the episodes flat out ignore it or even straight up work against the conflict like when Ladybug says this to Chat Noir in Guilttrip: "I probably don't tell you this enough, but I couldn't do this without you. And it'd be a lot less fun too."

Seriously, what even is this season? What is the conflict supposed to be? Because it sure as shit isn't Maribug undervaluing Chat Noir, if memory servers, season four sees her validate him more times than any other season. And it isn't her guiltily hiding things from him like so many fanfics claim because we have multiple points of evidence that prove that she's completely oblivious that there even is a conflict. So what conflict are the writers actually trying to write?

What's even more baffling is that none of this logically leads to the loss at the end of the season:

Maribug's new secrets didn't lead to her downfall. The only reason she lost was because of the secret that's always been there - a fact that's never revealed to her - and a freaking evil twin! So why did it matter that Maribug was keeping secrets? This is made even worse by season five maintaining all of the secrets, once again begging the question of what lesson were we trying to teach here???

Chat Noir wasn't needed for the final fight of the season, Maribug only needed the powers of a few of the temp heroes to win, a baffling ending to a season whose focus was Chat Noir feeling unimportant. You could scrap that conflict entirely and the ending would not change. In fact....

Adrien quitting to be nothing more than a good little boy who obeys his father would have actually saved the world from eventually being rewritten. If you think about it, the season four final actually punishes Adrien for being defiant. So does season five as, if Chat Noir had quit, his father would still be alive. I thought this show was supposed to be a romcom, not a tragedy. Why is Adrien being punished for being a hero? Is this supposed to be karma for lying to Ladybug with the whole Catwalker thing?

This shit is why I say I'm a writing salt, character sugar blog. I can't get mad at the characters when they're in such a nonsense story where things never logically tie together. They all deserve so much better.

None of this is meant to imply that ignorance is a blanket excuse for hurting others. Nor is it meant to imply that you have to forgive someone who hurt you just because they didn't mean to. There's a ton of nuance around these topics. But season four acknowledges none of that nuance while creating a situation that desperately needed nuance because there was no clear right and wrong here. Should Maribug work to be more aware of others feelings? Sure, but that journey can only start after she's made aware of her faults and no one ever points them out to her. Does Chat Noir need to work on clearly communicating his needs? Desperately, but no one is teaching him that lesson so he remains a terrible communicator who suffers in silence. What impressively bad writing.

[fatecantstopme]

I Can't Walk Away

Pairing: Nick Amaro x plus size!reader

Summary: When you and your boyfriend break up, you're faced with the seemingly impossible task of putting yourself back together. Luckily for you, your very handsome coworker is more than happy to help along the way.

Warnings: Body image issues, low self-esteem, mentions of toxic/abusive relationships, cursing, use of pet names. SMUT, light dom/sub vibes, oral (F receiving), unprotected sex (P in V).

A/N: This was entirely self-indulgent and I have no regrets.

Spanish Translations:

Querida: sweetheart/darling

Hermosa: beautiful

Mierda: shit

Por favor: please

Si: yes

All other translations will be after the sentence in brackets/italics.

You dropped onto Olivia's couch with a huff, tears still threatening to break through your stubborn facade.

"Are we gonna talk about it or do I need to have someone beat him up?" Liv asked you, a small smirk gracing her face.

"As much as I'd love to see his ass get handed to him, I think we should avoid committing any crimes," you said lightly.

Olivia sighed softly and reached over to put her arm around you. You leaned into her shoulder and began to let your guard drop. Olivia had been your best friend for over a decade now, your time working together in SVU having brought you closer than you could have imagined.

"He was an asshole, (Y/N/N)," she said softly. "You deserve better."

"You say that, but I guess I just don't believe it," you muttered.

It nearly broke her heart to hear you speak so negatively of yourself, but she knew no matter how many uplifting words she spoke, you would still refuse to believe her.

"Maybe there's something wrong with me," you whispered, tears finally beginning to fall. "Maybe I'm broken--unloveable."

"Hey," she chided. "You are so many things, (Y/N), but broken and unloveable are not among them."

She tightened her grip on you, pulling you into a proper side hug. She let you cry into her shoulder, her own heart breaking along with yours.

You knew, objectively, she was right--your now-ex was indeed an asshole. He'd never treated you well and had often put you down and made you feel terrible about yourself. Your self-esteem had been lower than usual when you met him and in the 6 months you'd been together, he'd managed to destroy whatever vestige of self-love you had left.

There wasn't a single thing about you he didn't belittle. Whether it was your physical appearance, your career, your hobbies, your dreams...he made you feel like everything you ever did was a mistake. In his estimation, you were too fat, unintelligent, boring...and your choice in career was just about the worst thing you could do.

You'd made it your mission in life to help the victims of particularly heinous crimes, which is why you'd been working at SVU for almost 12 years. You were the squad's forensic psychologist, and you loved your work. In many respects, it was the one thing that really brought joy to your life. It was your greatest passion--and the amount of time you spent at work certainly showed it.

Yet during those 6 months with him...your love for the job had begun to wane. Every time you'd stay late or have to cancel a date, he'd berate you for it--mocking your job and your inability to 'be a real person'. Now that you'd finally taken the leap and broken up with him, you were hopeful you could fall back in love with your work.

In this moment, however, all you could think about were the horrible things he'd said to you when you told him you wanted to break up. He'd been especially cruel, calling out every physical insecurity you had and making you feel like an absolute pile of human garbage. He'd called you fat, ugly, unloveable, gross...and a million other things you couldn't bear to repeat.

You weren't thin--you knew that, but you weren't gross. That was just offensive. Unfortunately, he wasn't the first ex to make comments about your weight--something you'd been struggling with for most of your adult life. The words had hit you harder than you'd expected, making you actually think he might be right...maybe you were the problem.

Olivia's voice broke you out of your thoughts, "Do you want to stay here tonight?"

You just nodded, not trusting your voice to answer her properly.

She squeezed you a little tighter, her reassuring presence grounding you in ways you desperately needed. You were always thankful for her friendship, but it was moments like this where you were reminded how much she really meant to you.

**********

You'd spent most of the weekend at Olivia's and by the time Monday rolled around, you were feeling a little bit better. She always knew what to do and say to make everything okay. It was a gift you'd always envied and appreciated.

It was very typical of you to be the first person in the office, having been an early riser most of your life. So you were more than a little surprised when you walked into the precinct Monday morning and spotted Nick Amaro sitting at his desk.

"You're in early," you commented lightly in lieu of greeting.

He turned his gaze to look over at you and shot you a disarming smile. "I couldn't sleep, so I figured I might as well get a head start on some paperwork I've been putting off."

"Wise man. Wouldn't want to upset the boss."

He grinned. "She's strict." His voice was teasing and warm and it made you feel something in your gut you always tried to ignore.

In truth, you were extremely attracted to Nick--it was undeniable. You had not, nor would you ever, tell him or act on it. Nick was so far out of your league it wasn't even funny. Besides, he was newly single, still fresh from his divorce.

"She can be calmed with good coffee and blueberry muffins," you said conspiratorially.

Nick chuckled. "I'm gonna have to write that down."

You offered him a smile before continuing past him to your office. You were surprised when his voice stopped you after a few steps.

"How was your weekend?"

You turned back to face him. "Friday was absolute shit," you said honestly. "But I spent Saturday and part of yesterday with Liv, so it's better now."

A look of concern crossed his face. "Everything okay?"

You feigned a smile. "Everything's fine. Thanks for asking."

His eyes narrowed as he gazed at you skeptically. "Is it that guy again?"

Your cheeks darkened, embarrassed Nick even knew about your ex. "We broke up."

Nick almost looked relieved. "I would say sorry, but it wouldn't be honest. I never liked the guy--he didn't treat you right."

You were surprised he paid enough attention to the things you said to know just how badly your ex had treated you. "Oh?"

Nick stood up and took a couple steps closer to you. He was still a professional distance away, but he could speak quieter so only you could hear him.

"You deserve to be treated with respect and dignity. You're an amazing woman, (Y/N), and a good man would never treat you the way he did. He clearly didn't recognize your worth."

His words slammed into you with surprising force. "I-um-thank you," you muttered softly.

"You can thank me by dating a man who will love you the way you deserve," he said lowly. "Como una reina." [Like a queen.]

His last three words were so quiet you weren't even sure you'd heard him properly--or if you were supposed to hear them at all. You weren't fluent in Spanish by any means, but you understood the basics...enough to know he'd said something about a queen. That is, if you heard him correctly.

You were about to ask him to elaborate when Olivia came into the squad room. She sent a warm smile your way and issued greetings to both you and Nick. Her arrival broke whatever spell Nick had been under, and he went back to his desk quietly.

You went into your office, leaving the door open behind you so you could hear the goings on and the arrival of the rest of the squad. There were plenty of things for you to do, but you couldn't get Nick's words out of your head.

**********

Olivia looked up from her computer when Nick knocked on the doorframe entering her office.

"Mind if I come in?" he asked.

"Sure," she said with a smile.

He came in and quietly shut the door behind him.

"Uh-oh...closed door conversation? Everything okay?"

"With me, yes," he answered. "But I wanted to ask you something and I don't want anyone overhearing."

"Okay..."

"It's about (Y/N)."

Olivia raised her eyebrows. "What about her?"

"She mentioned she'd spent the weekend with you and she and that asshole broke up."

Olivia chuckled softly, glad to hear she wasn't the only one who hated your ex.

"I know it's not really my business, but I can tell something is really upsetting her. Hell, I've noticed a change in her since the moment they started dating--and not in a good way."

"He isn't a good person," Olivia conceded.

"Tell me about it," Nick muttered. "Anyway, I just--well, I just want to know if she's okay? I mean, really okay."

"Why don't you ask her?"

"I did, but I know she wasn't being honest with me."

Olivia sighed. She had a feeling he was asking about you for a reason, but she wasn't sure it was her place to tell him the truth. She was torn between being honest with her partner and keeping her best friend's pain to herself.

"I don't know if it's my place to tell you, but he did say some particularly cruel things about her when she broke up with him."

Nick's eyes narrowed and Olivia could see the anger flare in them. "What did he say to her?" Even his voice was laced with fury--the mere idea someone would hurt you sent him off the edge.

"I can't tell you," Olivia answered. "But if you really want to know, then I think you should talk to her. She trusts you, so she may open up to you."

Nick nodded, anger still boiling beneath the surface. "You're right--I didn't mean to intrude or anything."

Olivia shook her head. "It's alright. I know you care about her...I guess I'm just a little surprised by your anger."

He winced slightly, feeling embarrassed for his display of emotion. "I don't like the idea of some guy making her feel like shit."

"Neither do I," she said honestly. "I am curious though...what made you ask about her?"

"Wha-what do you mean?"

Olivia smiled slowly. "I mean, why do you want to know badly enough to ask me?"

Nick had a feeling Olivia could see right through him--they'd been partners for a few years after all. He wasn't sure how to answer--or if he wanted to be entirely truthful. In the end, he opted for vague honesty. "I care about her."

Olivia watched his expression in silence for a long moment before responding. "So do I."

Nick could see the meaning behind her words as clearly as if she'd spoken them aloud--don't hurt my friend. He didn't say it, but he hoped Olivia knew he would never hurt you...it would break his heart.

**********

"Hey (Y/N/N). You busy?"

You looked up to see Nick standing in your office doorway, leaning against the frame. You swallowed thickly as you pushed down the improper thoughts blazing through your mind at the sight.

"Uh--no. What's up?"

He stepped into the room, edging closer to your desk. "I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner tonight. My treat."

You raised your eyebrows at him, unsure of the cause of his request. "Is there some sort of celebration I'm unaware of?"

He chuckled lightly. "Other than your new-found freedom, no. I just...well, I wanted to spend a little time with you. Ya know, if you want."

You bit your bottom lip as you contemplated his offer. "Well, I don't have any other plans, so why not?"

He grinned. "Excellent. Do you want time to go home first or just leave from here?"

You looked down at your outfit, suddenly feeling very frumpy and unattractive. You knew he wasn't asking you out on a date--just a friend inviting you to dinner to cheer you up. Even still, you really didn't want to go out looking like this. "Do you mind if I go home and change first?"

"Not at all. I can pick you up from your place, if you'd like?"

"Oh, uh-yeah. Sure."

He smiled again. "Perfect. 6:30?"

You nodded. "Sounds good."

You watched him walk out of your office, mind racing as you tried to figure out his motivations and what the hell you were gonna wear.

**********

By the time 6pm rolled around, you'd managed to change your clothes somewhere in the realm of 50 times, and you still weren't entirely satisfied. Even your favorite outfit didn't feel right--you could hear your ex's voice in the back of your mind telling you everything you tried on looked bad.

You dug further into your closet, looking for something simple--cover the things you wanna hide and accentuate the things you wanna show off. Your eyes fell on a beautiful black dress you'd actually never worn. You'd purchased it on a whim because you'd loved it in the store and Olivia had insisted it was too perfect to pass up on.

You pulled the dress off the hanger and put it on, pleased it still fit properly. When you turned to look in the mirror, you almost didn't recognize yourself--you actually felt pretty. The bodice of the dress was tight, but the lower half was flowy. The material was a soft, stretch satin, with a low neckline and flutter sleeves. The dress hit right above your knees and it practically screamed for a pair of heels.

You found your favorite black pumps, slipping them on and smiling at your reflection. You put on some jewelry to spice up the look, sprayed your favorite perfume, and double checked your hair and makeup one last time. You didn't wear much makeup on the daily, so you didn't go too wild with your makeup for the evening. You'd added some eyeliner and lipstick, but otherwise you looked natural. You'd actually been having a good hair day already, so you were pleased to see it was still behaving properly.

You'd just put the last finishing touches on the outfit when you heard the buzzer ring. You quickly went to answer it, and upon hearing Nick's voice, told him you'd be right down.

You took one last look in the mirror, took a deep breath, and headed downstairs feeling both excited and trepidatious. You reminded yourself once again this was just two friends having dinner--purely platonic...but you'd be lying to yourself if you said you didn't want it to be an actual date.

Nick was waiting just outside the front entrance to your apartment building, and he turned around when he heard the door open. Nothing could have prepared you for the look on his face when he saw you.

"Santa mierda," he breathed. "You look incredible." [Holy shit.]

You blushed and looked away. "Thank you," you mumbled softly.

He stepped towards you and gently touched your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze. "You're very welcome."

He dropped his hand, but his eyes stayed fixed on your face for a long moment. "Do you like Italian?" he asked.

"Of course," you answered, silently pleased your voice sounded normal.

"Excellent." He gestured towards his car and you followed behind him. He opened the passenger door and helped you in before getting in the driver's seat.

The drive wasn't very long, and your nerves kept you quiet for most of the ride. You listened to him chatter on about nothing, simply enjoying the sound of his voice.

When you arrived at the restaurant, he once again opened your door and helped you out, but this time his hand didn't leave yours. He placed your hand through the loop he'd made with his arm and guided you to the entrance.

Once you were seated, your nerves began to ratchet up even higher. Unfortunately for you, Nick was both an extremely good detective and an annoyingly perceptive person. As such, he noticed your discomfort immediately.

"You okay?"

"Yeah," you lied.

"It's just me, (Y/N/N)," he said quietly.

You exhaled slowly--realizing he was right. It was Nick for God's sake. He was your colleague, your friend. There was no reason to be nervous. "You're right."

He smiled, reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. He pulled it back to his side of the table as the server arrived for your drink order.

You were grateful for the glass of wine he delivered moments later, lifting it to your lips almost immediately. You knew the liquid would calm your nerves--maybe then you wouldn't embarrass yourself.

"I'm glad you agreed to have dinner with me," Nick said softly as he sipped his own glass of wine.

"I was a little surprised, in all honesty."

"That I asked or that you agreed?" he teased lightly.

You smiled. "Definitely the former."

"I hate seeing you upset," he admitted. "I thought I might be able to cheer you up a little."

"Thanks, Nick. You're a good friend."

His face fell slightly, but he quickly hid it behind a soft smile. "May I ask you something?"

"Sure."

Whatever he was going to ask was cut off by the arrival of the server to take your food order.

As soon as the server left the table, Nick leaned forward and lowered his voice. "What did he say to you that hurt you so much?"

"What?"

"Your ex."

Your expression shifted and you looked down at the table. "It doesn't matter."

"It does to me."

"Why?"

"Because whatever he said hurt you--and I'm willing to bet my career that he was wrong."

Your eyes snapped back up to meet his. His expression was deadly serious, yet it somehow put you at ease in a way only Nick could. "He said some unpleasant things about my physical appearance that I could have lived without hearing."

Surprise lit up his handsome face. "Unpleasant things about your appearance? I'll bet my life he was wrong."

Now it was your turn to be surprised. "I wouldn't make that bet, Nick."

"I'm confident. Tell me what he said and I'll judge for myself."

You took a deep breath, exhaling slowly before giving him a quick overview. "Essentially he said I'm unattractive and fat--I recall the word 'gross' being used as well."

Nick's temper flared instantly, the urge to punch that son of a bitch in the face nearly overwhelming. "He said what?"

Even if you didn't know Nick, you would have been able to see the rage simmering in his eyes, hear it in his tone. "It's not a big deal."

"If he was here, I'd launch him through a window. Bastard."

"I'm okay," you reassured him quietly.

Your soft voice grounded him, as it so often did, and he felt his anger dissipating. He was still angry, but the urge to hunt that asshole down had begun to fade.

"He was wrong, you know."

"Huh?"

"He was wrong. Not only are you one of the most beautiful women I have ever laid eyes on, but your body is perfectly proportioned--deliciously soft and curvy. You're about as far from gross as a human being can be."

He spoke with such conviction, such assuredness, that you almost believed him--almost.

"While I appreciate the compliment, Nick, you've never seen me naked...your opinion would change, trust me."

Nick's eyes flared with a new kind of intensity. "I highly doubt that."

"His did," you said quietly.

"He clearly didn't know what he had."

Your eyes met his, shoulders tense, discomfort obvious in every movement you made.

"Listen to me, (Y/N). I'll say it as many times as it takes for you to believe me--I think you're gorgeous. Stunning. Elegante. Sin fin perfecta." [Elegant. Endlessly perfect.] He reached for your hand and you let him take it in his. "You are a prize, (Y/N). Any man worth a damn would be honored to call you his."

You didn't know what to say. His words surprised you and warmed your soul at the same time. You could also feel the familiar tightening in your gut, accompanied by an entire swarm of butterflies dancing in your stomach.

"Forget every terrible thing he ever said to you, hermosa. Let me fill your mind with praise. Let me remind you of your beauty, inside and out, of your brilliance, of your kindness, your empathy...of all the little things that make you the incredible woman you are."

"Nick..." you whispered, his name the only coherent thing you were able to utter.

The moment was shattered by the arrival of your food. You'd been hungry when you sat down at the table, but your body was now flooded with a very different kind of hunger--a hunger you now believed Nick shared.

"Thank you, Nick," you said softly. "I know it's not nearly enough, but thank you."

"You don't have to thank me. I meant every word."

You gave him a small smile. "Still..."

He returned the expression.

The two of you ate in silence for several minutes, minds clearly elsewhere. After a while, Nick noticed you'd done more moving the food around the plate than actually eating and he called you out on it.

"Eat your food, querida. You'll need your strength."

Your head snapped up, eyes meeting his gaze. "For what?"

He leaned forward. "If you'll let me, I'm going to spend several hours showing you exactly how sexy I think you are."

You gulped. "And how do you plan on doing that?"

He grinned wolfishly. "By worshipping that amazing body of yours...over and over again, until you're screaming my name."

You suddenly found it very difficult to breathe, let alone eat. Nick, on the other hand, went right back to eating his food as if he hadn't just threatened you with an incredibly good time.

You had to force yourself to focus on your food, desperately trying to ignore the throbbing between your legs.

As soon as the meal was over, Nick asked for the check and paid, revealing just how desperate he was to get back to your place.

Once again, he helped you into the car, only this time his hand lingered on the small of your back.

Anticipation flooded through you as Nick drove through the streets of the city. You'd wanted him for so long--never once thinking he'd reciprocate the desire. Despite his words earlier in the evening, you still felt a shred of self-doubt...worrying he might not find you as attractive once you were naked.

"Where's that pretty head at, querida?" he asked softly, noticing your anxiety.

"Can you promise me something?"

"Of course."

"If you don't want to go through with this...you know, when you see me without my clothes on...please just tell me. I don't want you to feel like you have to do something you don't wanna do."

He reached over and grabbed your hand, squeezing it tightly. "I don't have to promise that because I know what I want, (Y/N)...and that's you. You could be a alien underneath those clothes and I'd still want you."

You laughed lightly. "I promise I'm not an alien."

He grinned. "Then we're gonna be just fine, baby."

You closed your eyes, silently willing yourself to believe him. You trusted him with your life--something you'd never experienced with any of your past relationships. Every fiber of your being told you Nick would never hurt you on purpose--never. You just needed to trust him--let go of your pain and give in to your desires.

When you finally made it back to your apartment, Nick gave you a gentle reminder. "We don't have to do this if you don't want to, (Y/N)."

"I want to," you whispered.

He inhaled slowly and took a step towards you. "Say 'no' or 'stop' and I'll stop immediately, okay? No hard feelings--I won't push you."

"I don't want to say no, Nick."

He took another step towards you, effectively backing you against the wall. "If you wanna stop--"

"Nick, please just kiss me," you begged softly.

He groaned softly before leaning in to press his lips to yours. His kiss was like fire and ice--more addictive than any drug known to man. He kissed you like you were the air he needed to breathe--like he would rather suffocate to death than stop.

He pressed his warm body against yours, wedging his knee between your thighs to keep you from squeezing them together. His tongue tangled with yours, quickly asserting dominance as he deepened the kiss.

Your hands went to the buttons on his white button down, quickly undoing them in a desperate need to feel his skin. He helped you remove the shirt, followed by his undershirt, leaving his toned chest bare for you to see.

You bit your lip and stifled a soft groan as you appreciated his form.

"You can touch me, querida," he said softly. "I wanna feel your soft hands on my skin."

You did as he asked, hands gliding over his smooth, tan skin. He sighed softly and leaned into your touch, lips grazing your jaw affectionately.

Your hands traveled to his hips and you began to loosen his belt. He allowed you to unbutton his pants and he helped you remove them.

"I think you're a bit overdressed for the occasion, hermosa," he teased huskily.

You tensed slightly, a feeling of dread washing over you.

Of course, Nick felt it and instantly began to sooth your worries. "You can keep on as much as you want, querida, but I want to see you. I've wanted to touch you like this since the day I met you. But if you're more comfortable keeping your clothes on, that's alright."

You looked up at him, his dark eyes warm and honest. You took a deep breath and pushed him back slightly, giving yourself the room to pull your dress off over your head.

You dropped your dress to the ground, but your eyes didn't meet his gaze--you couldn't even bring yourself to look at his face, too afraid of what you might see there.

"Querida, por favor," Nick whispered. "Look at me."

You looked up at him slowly, a soft gasp leaving your lips as you took in his hungry expression.

"I wanna kiss every square inch of your beautiful body, hermosa. Will you let me?"

You nodded tentatively.

"I need to hear you say it, baby," he pleaded.

"I want you Nick, please."

He groaned and pressed his body against yours again. "Say that again, querida."

"I want you," you whispered.

"Fuck--" He slammed his lips against yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth almost immediately. You melted in his arms, reveling in the feeling of his body against yours.

He finally pulled away to catch his breath, but his hands didn't leave your body. Now that he'd touched you so intimately, he never wanted to stop.

"Come with me," he whispered, before guiding you to your bedroom. "Lay down on the bed for me, querida."

You did as he asked, noticing how his eyes never left your body.

He made sure you were looking at him before he began to lower his boxer briefs, slowly revealing his large cock. He was already painfully hard, a bead of precum lingering at the tip.

You licked your lips in anticipation, an action he noticed with pride.

"Like what you see, hermosa?"

"Very much so."

He smiled and climbed onto the bed, covering your soft body with his hard one. "May I take off your bra?"

You nodded.

"Baby..." he said in a clear warning tone.

You understood his meaning instantly, a flood of arousal going straight to your core at the order. "Yes, papi."

His eyes widened for a moment, surprised and pleased at your use of the title. "Such a good girl, aren't you?"

A soft moan left your lips at the praise and he smiled to himself, pleased he was able to suss out what you liked.

His hand snaked around your back, deftly unclasping your bra with surprising ease. The moment your breasts were bared to his gaze, his mouth descended on you, taking a pert nipple into his mouth.

You moaned softly, fingers intertwining into his dark locks. His lips and hands massaged your breasts, giving them equal attention. True to his word, he moved tantalizingly slowly down your body, kissing every inch of skin he could, while avoiding where you needed him most.

By the time he made his way back up to your face, you were begging him to touch your pussy--pleading for some relief.

"Nick, please--I need you."

"What did you call me?" he asked harshly.

Your eyes widened lustfully. "I'm sorry, papi!"

He smiled, ghosting his fingers across your still-clothed pussy. "That's my good girl."

You whimpered at the feather-light touches he placed to your mound, desperate for more. "Please, papi."

"Hmm? Qué deseas?" [What do you want?]

"Please touch me," you begged.

"I am touching you, querida."

"More, papi. Please!"

He smiled. "Normally I'd take my time teasing you--making you beg for what you want...but if I'm being honest, I'm as desperate to touch you as you are to feel it, so I'll be nice to you this time."

He tugged your panties off quickly before spreading your thighs as wide as he could, revealing your dripping wet folds.

"All this for me, baby?" he growled.

"Only you, papi," you responded.

"Yeah? No one else makes you this wet?"

You shook your head vehemently. "No one else."

"Now I have one rule, hermosa. I wanna hear you--every little sound coming out of that pretty mouth. Be as loud as you want. Entiendes?" [Understand?]

"Si, papi," you whimpered.

He smirked as he lowered himself down onto the bed between your legs. His strong hands gripped your hips and he tugged you as close to his face as he could before diving into your pussy with a deep groan of pleasure.

You gasped at the sensation, the sound quickly becoming moans of enjoyment. Nick was quite skilled with his mouth--his tongue alone made you feel things you'd never before experienced.

Your fingers tangled into his hair, tugging at the roots as you desperately sought your release.

Nick held you in place as he continued his assault on your pussy, ensuring he had complete control over your pleasure.

"Feels so good," you gasped. "Gonna cum, papi."

He groaned against your clit, the vibrations sending a shockwave of pleasure through your body. He could feel how close you were by the way your thighs tried to close and your grip on his hair tightened.

Your moans became more desperate--needy, and he slid two fingers into your pussy, gently pressing into your g-spot rapidly.

You cried out, legs shaking slightly, seconds before your orgasm ripped through you like a tidal wave. His name left your lips in a gasped scream as he worked you through your high, only stopping when you began to squirm away.

You were completely breathless when he lifted his head, mouth and chin soaked in your juices. He licked his lips and wiped his mouth on his hand, licking it clean as he maintained eye contact with you. "You taste so good baby...I can't get enough."

You reached for him and he obliged, leaning forward to kiss you softly. You tasted yourself on his lips and tongue, a soft sound of pleasure escaping into his mouth.

"Querida," he whispered against your lips. "I need to be inside you."

"Please," you whimpered.

"Do you have protection?"

"I'm on the pill..."

"I'm clean," he assured you.

"Me too."

He lined his cock up with your entrance and looked back up at your face. "Are you sure, hermosa?"

"Si papi. I want you to fuck me."

He groaned softly before thrusting into you, sheathing himself fully inside of you in one swift movement.

You cried out, the stretch both overwhelming and extremely pleasurable all at once. You clutched his neck and he breathed deeply, trying to calm his racing heart.

"You can move," you whispered.

"Not yet, querida. I need a moment."

"Are you okay?" you asked in concern.

"Your pussy feels so damn incredible, baby...I'm just trying to control myself so I don't hurt you."

You bit your lip and lifted his face up to look at you. "I like a little bit of pain, papi." You clenched your pussy tightly for emphasis.

"Mierda," he ground out. "You sure?"

"Fuck me senseless, Nick. Por favor."

As much as he loved you calling him 'papi', hearing you say his name like that made him feral. He pulled out and thrust back in harshly, starting a fast, hard pace.

"Baby, say my name again," he begged.

"Nick," you moaned lowly.

"Fuck." He was fucking you like it was the last thing he was ever going to do and you'd never experienced anything like it.

You felt the coil tightening in your abdomen, and for the first time in your life, you knew you were going to cum during penetration. Your moans were loud enough to wake the neighbors, your nails dug into his muscular back, and your pussy had his cock in a vice grip.

"You gonna cum for me, (Y/N)?"

You nodded rapidly, unable to voice a response. The only thing coming out of your mouth was a string of incoherent moans and pleas.

"I wanna feel you cum, baby. Cubre mi polla." [Coat my cock.]

"Nick!" you whined.

"What do you need, querida? Tell me."

"More," you whimpered.

He slipped his hand between your bodies and began to gently massage your clit. "This what you need, baby?"

"Nick!" you screamed. "Don't stop!"

"That's it, baby. That's it. I've got you. Cum for me, querida. Ven por mí." [Come for me.]

You cried out in ecstasy as the waves of pleasure overwhelmed your senses. You clung to him desperately, as if he was a life raft while you were adrift in the ocean.

He began to chase his own high as you came down, your awareness coming back to you. His thrusts were fast and rough, his breathing ragged.

"I want you to cum for me, papi. Fill me up," you begged.

"Dios mio! You feel so good, baby. Wanna cum for you."

You clenched your pussy as tightly as you could, desperate for him to enjoy this as much as you did.

"(Y/N)!" he cried out as he came, his hot seed filling you up.

His thrusts slowed and faltered before he finally collapsed on top of you, breathless and satiated.

You held him close, running your fingers through his hair as he caught his breath. You were a little worried he would regret this now that it was over, but your fears were assuaged the moment he lifted his head to look at you.

His beautiful brown eyes were warm and loving as he gazed at you, happiness and contentment clear in his expression. "That was incredible," he murmured softly.

You blushed slightly. "You were incredible."

"As were you, querida."

He pressed his lips to yours as he pulled himself up. He rolled onto his side and pulled you with him, so your head rested against his chest.

"I'm thinking we take a power nap, then we go for round two," Nick said softly.

"Round two?!"

He grinned. "I did promise you I was gonna worship this sexy body of yours for hours."

"I didn't think you were serious, Nick," you said with a chuckle.

"Oh, baby, I'm always serious about worshipping you. I think you'll learn that very quickly."

You smiled and kissed his chest softly. You debated whether you wanted to voice the question that popped into your head, but once again, Nick beat you to it.

"You know this isn't a one time thing, right?" Nick asked gently. "I mean, unless you want it to be."

You looked up at him, expression soft and affectionate. "I was actually just going to ask you that."

He grinned. "So...you saying you might wanna see me again?"

"I see you every day, Nick," you teased.

"I mean like this, hermosa. Naked in your bed, making you scream my name, giving you as much pleasure as your pretty little body will take."

Your breath hitched in your chest, giving away just how badly you wanted that. "That too."

He chuckled and kissed the top of your head. "If I'm lucky, you'll let me take you out more too. Dinner, dancing, walks in the park, musicals...whatever you want. Wherever you go, I want to be there too."

Your eyes widened in surprise and tears filled them. You'd never had someone speak to you the way Nick did, let alone want to be with you in the way he just described.

"Querida," he whispered as he wiped your eyes. "Don't cry."

"Tears of joy," you assured him. "I promise."

His expression warmed, filling with the love and admiration he clearly felt for you. "So you'll be mine then? Exclusively?"

Your lips parted and you smiled. "I would love that."

He smiled back. "Thank god...because whether you knew it or not, I've been yours exclusively for the past year."

"What?"

He blushed slightly. "I...well I've wanted to be with you since my marriage fell apart, but I didn't want you to think you were some kind of rebound, so I kept myself professional. It's gotten harder and harder to do and then seeing you dating someone who treated you so terribly knowing full-well I would die for you made it nearly impossible."

"I didn't know," you whispered.

"I went to great lengths to make sure of that," Nick said softly. "But now that I have you? Now that I know what it's like to touch you, hold you, kiss you, make love to you? Baby, I can't walk away. You're stuck with me."

You pulled yourself up into a sitting position, straddling his strong body. You leaned down to kiss him softly, pouring all of your emotion into the kiss. "There's no one I'd rather be stuck with, Nick Amaro," you whispered against his lips.

He grinned and wrapped his arms around you, kissing you with as much passion as he could muster. He was determined to spend every minute of the rest of his life making sure you knew how incredible you were, how much he appreciated you, and how madly in love with you he would always be.

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, anxious Dean, anxious Reader

Chapter Word Count: 2683

MDNI 18+

A/N: another slightly shorter chapter (sorry). Idk why but I rewrote this chapter so many times to try and get it right, so fingers crossed it’s not awful. But the encounter finally happens! Not long now until we get to see Dean doing dad things, and tbh, I’m living for it. Feedback is always appreciated! Love you all

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out.

Photos from Pinterest

New Readers Start Here: Chapter 1

Previous Chapter: Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Spilling the truth took a lot less time than I'd anticipated, so after a quick update texted to Kat and the much needed coffees, Dean and I decided to head over to the track. Dean himself was feeling every emotion under the sun. He expressed a constant string of heartfelt apologies for nearly the whole walk from Jolenes’ Café back to where we'd parked, despite me constantly reminding him that he has nothing to apologise for. He's here now, and that's what matters. The phrases ‘I have a son,’ and ‘I’m a dad’ seemed to intertwine with the ‘I’m sorry’s’ like a mantra, to the point where I had to stop him in his tracks and refocus his attention before his head got lost in the clouds.

“I get it, Dean. This is so much to absorb right now, and I can't imagine what is going on in that crazy brain of yours. You don't have to come with me right now, we can meet tomorrow if you want-”

“No, absolutely not. I've been absent for too long and I'll be damned if I waste another minute,” he nervously wiped his hands over his face as we approached my truck. I couldn't help but smile. “I mean, what if he doesn't like me?”

I couldn't stop the chuckle from escaping my mouth, earning a raised eyebrow from the man who was working himself into an anxious sweat.

“Dean, trust me, he's going to want to be your best friend. Especially when he knows that’s your car,” I nodded my head to the impala a few spaces away, recalling Levi's excitement when he saw it in town yesterday.

“Really?”

“Really. Plus…” I hesitated, unsure what emotion my next statement was going to stir within Dean, “he's been bullied for not having a dad around, and I think he'll be grateful for that to stop.”

Deans’ brows furrowed as he leant on the side of my truck, dropping his head and muttering a few curses.

“He's been bullied because I've not been there?” He looked up with a pained pinch in his brow. I sighed.

“Yes but trust me, your boy gives as good as he gets,” I smiled a little, bringing Dean some reassurance. I could tell the words ‘your boy’ had an effect on him. “Look,” I reached out to rub his shoulder affectionately, to which he responded with a warm hand over mine, squeezing my fingers. “We need to get going to pick him up. Why don't you come in my truck with me?” He paused for a moment, thinking, gathering his thoughts before standing up straight and nodding. “Great,” I grinned at him, a few nervous butterflies fluttering in my own stomach now. I reached for his hand again, giving it another squeeze, “let's get going then.”

Dean had insisted on driving, mainly for his own sanity and I’d happily obliged, remembering what a terrible passenger he was. After a couple of painstaking minutes of him readjusting my seat, we pulled away and headed down to the track. 

The drive was about twenty minutes, and most of that was spent in a comfortable conversation about Levi. Dean wanted to know everything. And I mean everything. His hobbies, his favourite movie, his favourite cereal, his least favourite cereal, his grades, his favourite subject… the list went on. Before we knew it, we were turning down a dirt road and pulling into a large gravel car park. As we pulled up and hopped out, the buzz of dirt bikes and loud chatter filled the air, along with the intense smell of petrol. Dean walked around to my side, looking around and taking it all in.

“Levi does this? He can ride a dirt bike?” he asked, an impressed tone to his voice. Dean had forgone the leather jacket and as I glanced at him, I couldn't help but trail my gaze over his biceps and the way the grey fabric of his t-shirt stretched around the large muscles. I looked away quickly before he caught me. Now was not the time to let my eyes or thoughts wander.

“Yeah, he's really into it, and he's good too; he has a few trophies at home. To be honest, he loves anything with wheels and an engine,” I grinned, meeting Deans’ eyes with a knowing look. He smiled back.

“Really?”

“You know, he's a lot like you - even though you've never met. It's kinda crazy,” I started heading down to the gathering point, knowing that Levi would be coming off the track soon. Dean was hot on my heels. “He even looks like you.” 

“Poor kid.”

I smacked him on the arm playfully as Dean chuckled.

“You're handsome and you know it, so shut your mouth.”

“Yes ma’am.”

Just as we were approaching the gathering point I heard a familiar voice calling my name. Looking through the crowd I saw Kat trotting up to us in her poorly chosen footwear, Toby nowhere in sight. She pulled me into a hug with a smirk already growing on her lips, and as she pulled back she turned to study the tall man at my side.

“Hmm… you are even finer than your photograph.”

“Kat!”

She ignored me.

“I'm Kat, it's nice to meet you, Dean. I feel like we'll be seeing a lot more of each other. You know, since our son's are besties,” she stuck out her hand and grasped Deans, giving it a firm shake and dropping it before he'd even uttered a word. She turned back to me, her smirk still on her lips.

“Since Levi is coming home with you today - much to Toby's disappointment - how would you feel about him sleeping over tomorrow?”

“Yeah totally, he'd love that,” I grinned at her, forever grateful.

“Great! I'll pick him up tomorrow,” she beamed, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek before turning on her heels and heading back into the crowd of parents. We'd normally wait for the boys to emerge together, but I know her, and she didn't want to step on Deans’ toes. This was a big deal, and in her eyes, she was the outsider here.

“What was that?” Dean looked at me, slightly stunned with a quizzical brow.

“That,” I gestured to Kat's disappearing figure, “is Kat. She's my best friend, and to be honest I don't think I'd have made it this far without her.”

“Kat. Got it,” he seemed to make a mental note of who she was, catching on quickly that she was an important person in my life. In Levi's life. I grinned at him, perhaps a little nervously before grasping his hand and pulling him with me in the same direction Kat had left.

“Come on, he’ll be out soon, let's wait for him.”

Dean flashed the smallest smile whilst taking a deep breath. He looked down at our hands and I noticed his palms were a little sweaty. He gripped tighter, hanging to me like I was a lifeline as I pulled him through the crowd. His silence spoke volumes of his nerves, so I stopped at the edge of the gaggle of parents, fearing that he would soon find this all too much. 

For the whole five minutes that we waited, Dean didn't let go of me.

It didn't take long for the whirring of tiny engines to draw closer and closer before finally stopping, shortly followed by the chatter of smaller, childlike voices. Kids began to filter through the crowd, and it wasn’t long before a familiar outline pushing a small, black dirt bike headed our way. Suddenly Dean pulled his hand away from mine and raked his fingers frantically through his hair, pacing in a small circle.

“Shit…shit- what do I say to him? How do I talk to him? He's gonna hate me-”

“Hey hey hey, calm down, everything is fine! Trust me, Dean, Levi is not going to hate you,” I reached to rub a hand over the back of his shoulders, feeling the muscles tense and flex with every deep breath he took. 

“I've done a lot of terrifying shit in my life but this really takes the cake,” he dragged a large hand over his paleing face.

“He's an eight year old boy, baby. Trust me, you've got this.” 

He sighed before stopping in his tracks, his gaze catching mine with a twitch of his lip.

“It's been a hot minute since you've called me that, sweetheart,” he stepped closer, reaching to touch the small of my back with tender fingertips.

It took a moment for realisation to dawn, and when it did I felt heat bloom across my cheeks. 

“I-I'm sorry- it just slipped out- I didn't mean-”

“(Y/n) it's ok! I don't mind,” he chuckled slightly, his nerves seeming to dissipate. The playful glint had returned to his eye for a moment, but it was quickly replaced with something calmer, more serene. His grin lessened, but the warmth in his features remained. “I don't mind.”

I looked up at him, my heart and stomach feeling warm and light as we seemed to acknowledge our own familiarity between each other. It wasn't just Levi that connected us, and I seemed to forget that Dean and I used to be in a relationship. We were more than just a one night stand - we were intimate on multiple levels. 

“Hey mom!” 

The bubble around Dean and I popped as Levi had crept up on us, crash helmet still equipped and his bike to his side.  I felt Dean tense beside me, the air around him practically sizzling with anticipation.

“Hey there, trouble! You had a good afternoon?” I stepped up to Levi and patted his helmet. He nodded vigorously.

“Great! You can tell me all about it in the car,” I paused and glanced at Dean, frozen in place and not taking his eyes off Levi since he appeared. It took a moment for Levi to realise that Dean was even standing there, his focus still on me and his fun afternoon. After a few breaths, Dean tore his gaze away from his son and he looked over at me, his expression heavy with a whole concoction of emotions. I offered him a small smile before nodding. 

“Hey, Levi,” I crouched down to my sons’  level, “I have a surprise for you. I'm gonna need you to take your helmet off, ok?”

I saw his eyes light up as he nodded vigorously. Helping him to support his bike, he eagerly tore his helmet off, his short brown hair tousling in the process. He grinned at me, his helmet now tucked under his arm as he waited patiently. I heard a sharp inhale hiss through Deans’ teeth from behind me as he laid eyes on his sons’ face for the first time. I smiled at Levi, taking his smaller, dirt covered hand in mine.

“Ok, so… You see this man behind me?” I tilted my head in Deans’ direction, and Levi followed with his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said, his grin unfaltering.

“Well,” I drew in a breath, “his name is Dean. And I knew Dean a long time ago,” there was another apprehensive pause as my own pulse quickened. “Sweetheart… Dean… He’s, well… He’s your dad.”

I watched as the grin fell from Levis’ face, his green eyes widening.

“What?” his voice was all but a whisper, his gaze flitting rapidly between me and Dean, who’d now taken a step closer.

“He’s your dad,” I repeated, reaching up to softly comb my fingers through the front of his wild hair. Levis’ bottom lip started to tremble as my words sunk in, the truth of the situation we were in starting to hit home as tears started to well in his eyes.

“You’re serious?” he squeaked with a sniff.

I nodded, the emotions from my son now bleeding into me, a lump forming in my throat.

“Yeah honey, I’m serious.”

Levis’ helmet hit the dirt with a thud and in that instant he’d thrown himself at Dean, wrapping his arms around his waist and burying his mud streaked face into his shirt. His dad didn’t hesitate to return the gesture, wrapping his large arms around Levis’ shoulders and pulling him into the same crushing hug I’d received earlier today.

“Hey kid,” Dean spoke against the top of Levis’ head, his voice rasping as he choked his words out, “I’m sorry it took so long for me to get here.” 

I stood up from where I’d been crouching, now clutching the small helmet that had been flung to the ground. I drew Deans’ attention as I shifted, and I felt like my heart could have exploded in my chest when I saw the glossiness in his eyes. Tears of joy, relief and perhaps even bittersweet regret were on the brink of spilling over, and the soft smile he threw my way said a million ‘thank yous’.  The quiet sounds of Levis’ sniffling were what pulled on my heartstrings the most. The boy who loved nothing more than to race bikes, watch movies and talk about cars had grown up without a dad to share those interests with. He’d watched the other kids around him down at the track, their fathers joining in with the activities. Other kids had their dads to play sports with down at the park on a sunny Sunday afternoon. They’d had a role model who they could admire, always in the bedroom next to theirs. But not Levi. He’d had me, and I did my best to fill those fatherly shoes, but we both knew it just wasn’t the same. There were times when I think it upset me more than it had upset him, feeling like my child was missing out on something so important. But now… now that Dean was here, for however long he was planning on staying, Levi could finally experience the things he’d dreamt of for so long. I just hoped it would turn out to be everything that he’d ever imagined.

I watched as Levi finally pulled away from his dad, his tears having cleaned tracks through the mud on his face. He sniffed one my time before beaming up at Dean.

“Hey, kid,” Dean smiled softly, ruffling his hair with a hand the same size as his head, “maybe if your moms ok with it, we could hang out a bit. Maybe go and grab some ice-cream? My treat,” Dean shifted that smile to me, and I would’ve had to have had a heart of stone to decline that request.

“Of course,” I smiled back, “ice-cream sounds perfect.”

“Great,” Deans’ grin widened, a refreshed look in his eye as he let go of Levi and stepped towards me, taking the helmet from my hands. My breath caught in my throat when he pressed a warm, lingering kiss to my cheek. I took everything to not let my eyes flutter closed, to not get lost in that moment, but the familiar feeling of his lips on my skin and scent washing over awoke the butterflies in my stomach. My heart leapt in my chest, and I couldn’t help the sigh of relief when he pulled away, stepping around me. He kicked the bike stand back and wheeled the small vehicle forwards, looking at Levi and urging him to come and push it.

“Come on kid, why don’t you tell me all about this beast on our way back to the truck,” he smiled to his son who beamed back, leaping over to him. Dean chuckled slightly as the smaller version of himself burst into conversation about top speeds and engine strokes, and the wide look in Deans’ eyes as he glanced up at me, finally understanding what I’d meant when I’d said they were so alike. And as Levi chatted animatedly to his dad as we walked, my heart swelled as I watched them.

I couldn’t seem to look away as I witnessed Dean gaze down at his son, looking like the proudest father in the world.

Next Chapter: Chapter 4

Taglist: @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @megara0224 @libby99hb @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung @king-of-milf-lovers @xshortputax @jerksbitch @multifandoms-saidwhat @deans-baby-momma @writersxxx @rox2008 @jeysbae @ladykitana90 @proudbisexual @ladysparkles78 @elenasalvatore1 @bxtchboy69 @saemiau @lilithlunastark @kazsrm67 @chriszgirl92 @riah1606 @impala67rollingthroughtown @berryblues46 @aylacavebear @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx

[antimony-medusa]

Someone asked me for notes on writing technoblade so:

this is how I do characterization, just in random order.

deadpan or "dry" but not monotone— he's often quite expressive just in a deadpan way.

FUNNY. Humour is hard though so you can skate by on just being sarcastic and deadpan.

Sarcastic.

doesn't often say that someone is important to him in words, not in a literal fashion— the reason why things like "for you the world" or "my best friend" or "bro" or "good friend and disciple" gets celebrated is because he wouldn't say that sort of thing often. He is not out here calling people sunshine. Techno's out here saying "oh I'm not endeared" and "there's a RACCOON in my basement" and "that's what I'd expect from you, old man", but at the same time in actions he's very clearly showing that he cares— fight alongside someone, give them gifts, invite them to stay. Complaining about being woken up and how he needs his beauty sleep and how he's gonna wither to ashes while he makes you supper and won't let you apologize and sets up the guest room for you. And then says of course he's doing it he values this friendship. and then tells you how you could make anything you want for breakfast don't wake him before ten or he'll crumble to dust

especially with phil, very rarely MEAN/cutting, even while bantering and complaining— he'll call him an old man who's fallen off but he won't make fun of how he talks or call him stupid or a burden or tell him to shut up. He will tell tommy to stop talking but that would be because tommy was yelling his opinions at people like a grackle

anxiety— he wins fights because he overprepares. the beginning of every stream is so much brewing and armour and grinding. The world is dangerous and the only way to face it is to Git Gud. HE WILL BE GRINDING.

loves animals.

general-purpose nerd. people boil this down to english-major a lot, but things I have heard technoblade go on tangents about include math, psychology, greek mythology, metaphor, and How To Balance The Game

canonically into golf? I don't use that but yeah.

it's fair if I can grind the game sufficiently to make it work. will use exploits and edge cases and also expects them to be used against him cause that's just the game we're playing, right?

dark humour. this is a guy who made jokes about his execution and then his cancer. If he is in peril or something terrible is happening he will be joking about it. Most of the time however that is very carefully dark humour that is about, in the metaphor, him on the gallows, not being part of the crowd at a public execution.

Neurodivergent. This Man Has ADHD. in-game he had the zoomies a lot, he jumped conversational topics, he got distracted and missed stuff.

socially uncomfortable but has social skills— you see the discomfort especially on places like SMPearth or when he's not in a highly scripted lore call. He'll be falling back on silence or falling out of the conversation unless he's comfortable with people, and then you see WAY more of the fast joking, on a sliding scale of how comfortable he was with people. You can absolutely tell if he's comfortable with people and it correlates to how much company manners he's putting on. Like he'll make the effort socially, but you can tell he's plotting his escape from this conversation most of the time on SMPearth unless with his allies.

you can get an incredibly long way with dropping your gs, "bruh", and deadpan sarcasm.

kinda guy to use "wanna" and "soporific" in the same sentence. Big vocabulary, informal mode of speaking unless he's giving a prepared speech.

On SMPearth jokes about world conquest and domination, on DSMP jokes about being the bad guy/withers/terrorism, on origins jokes about cancer.

Will talk himself up as the best and powerful while also in a way that implies he doesn't really believe that or think it's important. First Try, Chat, he'll say, while very clearly and obviously going for the sixth try. Didn't even sweat, while a moment ago he was audibly panicking down the mic. Kinda guy to talk about his enormous clout and then turn the conversation around to how Ranboo has higher viewership and he personally has fallen off and is dying and being flattened— not in a complaining way, but in a "you're doing so awesome you beat me so good great game" way.

does not swear while on stream. We know he swore off-stream but those clips are few and far between. You will get people twitch if you have techno swearing though.

I've run out of thoughts, does anyone else have more ideas for Techno characterization?

[tomssexdoll]

Love will find a way

"why were you actually struggling so much?"

"cause I couldn't stop thinking about you..."

PAIRINGS: Tom 2010 x Female reader

CONTENT: ANGST + SMUT + FLUFF

SYPNOSIS: Y/N and tom are forced into a marriage by both their families, since it benefits them, they hate each others guts, always getting in arguments and sleeping in seperate bedrooms, they do almost anything to get away from each other. One day Y/N notices he's been struggling with business lately, she feels bad and tries to help, ending with him snapping at her and yelling for her to leave, she just scoffs and doesn't even try to fight back, surprising tom.

A/N: ily all

WARNINGS: dom!tom, sub!reader, p in v (riding ), eating out, mutual masturbation (fingering and handjob), breast/nipple play, light arguing

Me and Tom were forced into a marriage by both our families, they said that it benefited them, boosting their reputation and their businesses. We fucking despised each other, from the moment I met him I could tell he was an asshole.

His manners off putting, his attitude and snarkiness. I was forced to break up with my secret, loving boyfriend just to marry this asshole, sometimes I wished I was never in a mafia family, the consequences of it weighing on me.

I had to have a huge wedding too, something I'd always wanted but it was with the wrong person, everything was accomodated to my needs and desires but there was only one problem, the groom.

Living with him was hell, I had scheduled my meals to be way after his, breakfast was at 6, while his was at 8, lunch at 3, his at 1, and dinner at 8, his at 6. I purposefully made it so I didn't need to run into him after finishing my dinner, the thought of even being around him annoyed me.

His face, his voice, his stupid personality, the way he walked. Everything about him I hated, when we would cross each other all we'd do is argue, I'd scream at him and he'd scream at me, sometimes the bodyguards would have to get involved and tear me off him.

Our "marriage" was nothing short of terrible, everything about it, when he'd try to do nice things for me I'd just shut him down, not even baring the thought to look at him, let alone spend time with him. At events of course we had to seem happy, whenever I had the chance to run off I did, as did he.

Lately I'd been noticing him struggling, the paperwork he was usually amazingly good at handing in on time, going 2 days late, 3 days, and even weeks late. His father was coming around and checking in, asking why he was delayed so much, that it wasn't like him to do this, but as usual, Tom just brushed him off.

As much as I hated him, I didn't like to see him struggle that bad, I knew how important these businesses were to him, how hard he worked to keep them afloat. One day I slipped into his office, greeting him with a soft smile.

"What?" he muttered, I tried to ignore the annoyance in his voice, telling myself that I'm here to help him and not to snap at him. "Can't you see I'm working y/n? Don't you have better things to do?" he looked up, leaning back in his chair, his eyes narrowing as he studied me.

The air in the room seemed to thicken with tension, but not good tension, like hatred was brewing in the air, ready to spill over. "I was just going to offer my help, I've noticed you've been struggling Tom," I sighed, his name leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.

"And, why do you care all of a sudden?" he looked back down at his paperwork, flicking through the pages and then looking back up at me, "I thought you hated me.." he said, his tone bitter and cold.

"Trust me, I do. But I don't want to see your business struggle, it's not good for our reputation," I scoffed, grabbing the files and taking a quick look at them. His gaze intensified, his eyes boring into mine with an unnerving intensity as he leaned against his desk, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"These are easy, what's wrong with you? usually you're terrific at working on these, why are you struggling so much?" I touched his arm softly, he paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his features before it was quickly covered up by his usual stonic expression. His muscles tensed slightly beneath my touch, pushing my hand off.

For a second, I swear I saw his eyes soften when I touched him, like he wanted to give into something but of course he quickly composed himself, going back to his usual cold self.

"it's nothing, just stress.." he grumbled "stress? bullshit, you're never stressed," I pressed the issue again, I could see his anger growing, his chest heaving up and down as he snapped at me, "Enough!" he slammed his fist into the desk, causing me to jump at the sudden outburst. "GET THE FUCK OUT! I don't need you here, all you do is cause a headache, I can work on this shit on my own," he yelled, hungry for an argument, using hurtful words on purpose to rile me up.

I didn't budge though, just scoffing and not fighting back, usually I'd scream and fight, but I didn't want to give him the reaction he so desperately wanted. I turned around and just walked off, tears in my eyes as I slammed his office door shut.

Tom just stared at the closed door, watching me walk off. His expression slowly shifted from anger to guilt, he knew he had crossed a line, letting out a heavy sigh and running a hand through his hair, "fuck.." he muttered.

I stormed into my room, tears streaming down my eyes, I quickly locked the door behind me, not wanting to face Tom for a while. His words cut me deep, why was I so affected by someone like him? Why was I feeling this way?

He silently got up, deciding that he should put his ego aside and hurting me actually did effect him, it weirdly made his heart clench. He slowly walked down the hall, reaching my room, he leaned back against the door, hearing my muffled sobs. He knew he really hurt me this time and he hated himself for it, he never actually wanted me gone, his anger just got the best of him, his pride and selfishness making him lash out.

Usually we'd get into arguments, we'd spit harsh words at each other and just end up fucking, the sex full of hatred and anger, nothing passionate or intimate about it at all. Then, of course we'd go back to being enemies, ignoring each other for days.

After a few moments, he quietly knocked on the door, "Y/N..?" he gently said, "fuck off! I don't want to fucking talk to you!" I screamed, pushing him away even further.

His heart sunk at the sound of my anger, he knew he deserved it but of course it still hurt. "Fine..." he sighed, walking back into his office. I thought that was it, that it was just gonna be left at that, like it always was, but boy was I wrong. He sat down in his chair, looking at the items around him, wondering what he could use to convince me to talk to him.

His eyes lit up as he saw a pile of paper in his desk drawer, he pulled a few out and got one of his pens, opening the cap and contemplating his words, what would win me over? Hours passed, the house remaining silent, his thoughts are consumed with guilt and regret as he kept writing, his hands working at lightning speed, numerous of crumpled up pages were scattered across the floor and desk, he wanted this letter to be perfect.

He knew he has to quickly give this to me, to make amends, any more time that went by made him anxious, he was scared I'd think he just abandoned me.

As night fell, he finally finished. Grabbing a small, yellow envelope and folding the paper, putting it in and sealing it shut. He slowly arose from his chair, making his way over to my room again, I could hear his footsteps approach, I watched as a small envelope slid under the door, the moonlight from the window illuminating it, his footsteps quickly dissipating back to his office.

I slowly got up, sliding my slippers on and walking to the door, bending over and picking up the envelope, on the back it read, "words I wish I had said" I curiously opened it, walking back to my bed and sitting down, placing the envelope on my nightstand as I pulled out the paper.

I unfolded it, his neat, bold writing covering the page.

Dear Y/N,

My wife, I know we've been forced together, I know about the boyfriend you had before me, your father told me about him. He told me about how he wasn't good for you, how I needed to step in and marry you. How the business would benefit from us being together, that our reputation would flourish. I stupidly put my ego first, selfishly wanting my business to boom, to make tones of money.

The thing I missed out on was possibly making a relationship with you, a real, raw, romantic relationship. From the moment I saw you I was in love, I tried to form one, doing things for you but your hatred for me wouldn't subside and I just decided to be petty and act the same way, I denied my feelings by pushing you away, yelling with you and causing arguments.

I deeply regret what I did, I was caught up in my own thoughts, cursing myself every day for hurting you but I couldn't stop. I don't know why, it was like a drug to me, the rush of knowing you'd be there every single time, even after a major argument.

The hate sex made it worse, fuelling my ego more than it should've been. I was selfish and I hurt you, I can never forgive myself for that. The love I have for you is incomparable to that stupid twit you called your boyfriend. I know you were in love with him and still probably are but, if you give me one more chance can I prove I can be the right guy for you?

I'll stop treating you badly and just express my love and gratitude towards you. You're truly one of the most beautiful women I've ever laid my eyes on, you're kind, caring and generous, nothing like the other women I was set up to marry with.

I know I don't deserve a chance at all, after all the things I did to you it's understandable. But please, I'm begging you for this chance, I'll do anything you ask me to, I'll fucking jump off a cliff for you, I'd do absolutely anything for you, just if it means I can have you in my arms forever.

As I finished reading the letter, tears fell down my cheeks, dripping onto the paper. I realized my feelings for him, the ones I had buried inside me for a long time, refusing to let out.

Of course I hated him at the start, who wouldn't? I just didn't notice the feelings that developed, even through hatred. The times I'd just admire him at parties, get jealous of any girl who approached him, catching myself just sitting in his office to feel his presence.

I felt like I was going crazy, like all of this was just a dream and that it would all be over. But I had to snap back to reality, I had to confront him with my feelings and talk about it, I couldn't hide away for much longer.

I put my robe on, walking out of my room and towards his office, gently opening the door, meeting his eyes. "Oh...you got my letter.." he softly smiled, something I'd never seen on his face.

I softly nodded, closing the door behind me and approaching his desk. "How about you help me with the rest of the paperwork," he ushered for me to sit down next to him, a chair already prepared for me. I knew he didn't know how to express he wanted to talk to me, his eyes filled with desperation, waiting for me to accept his offer.

"Sure, the paperwork," I sighed, sitting next to him and skimming through it, I quickly signed off different things, fixing mistakes, feeling his eyes burning into the side of my head.

He took a deep breath, mustering the courage to broach the subject that's been weighing on the both of our minds, "You did that really well, you know I..I never expected for it to be like this, I never wanted our marriage to be this toxic.." he said softly, reaching out, taking my hand in his.

He gently rubbed his thumb over my hand, causing me to turn to him, looking into his eyes. "I know..I guess my hatred from the start kind of blew it up, I did notice the things you tried to do for me but I couldn't handle being away from someone I loved, someone I was ripped away from. Can you really blame me Tom, I was scared.." I sighed, he instantly shook his head, grabbing both my hands and leaning closer.

"There is never a day where I blame you, I blame myself for everything, I hate myself for the hurt I've caused you, I should've never taken the deal, I should've just told your father no, I know you probably still love that guy," he rambled, but I quickly cut him off, "still love that guy? Oh god no, he's a thing of the past. I was out one day and saw he had already moved on, only 2 weeks after we got married, when having feelings for you came into question in my mind I always shut it down, thinking it was impossible because of how far I had pushed you away.."

"We really are stupid, aren't we?" he chuckled, pressing his forehead against mine. "Yeah..I always caught myself sitting in your office, just to feel your presence without actually being in it, knowing I'd ruin it by snapping at you. I'd also notice how jealous I got when I saw you with other girls, I felt like I was going crazy," I giggled, noticing the big grin forming on his face.

"Jealous huh? So my plans did work," a slow, satisfied smile spread across his chiselled features as he listened to my confession, his eyes darkening with a hunger he's been trying to suppress. He leaned in closer, his lips inches from mine, his hot breath caressing my skin, "And now, are you still shutting your feelings down, or has that changed?" he whispered, looking into my eyes.

"It's changed...." I murmured softly. He closed the remaining distance, capturing my lips in a searing kiss. His hands roamed my body possessively, pulling me onto his lap as he deepens the kiss.

He broke away for a second, his voice husky as he growled, "you don't know how long i've wanted this, you, your touch..." I whined, pulling him back into a passionate, urgent kiss.

His fingers tangled in my hair, his tongue demanding entrance. He groaned in delight, pulling me closer and revelling in the feeling of having me in his arms at last. This was nothing like the hate sex we had, it was always quick, rough and to the point, only caring about our own pleasure.

But this, this was sensual, intimate, steamy and kind of romantic. I had never seen this side of Tom and was glad he brought it out, letting me experience proper intimacy after months of being neglected of it.

He cupped my face with his free hand, holding me in place as he showered me with kisses. He breathed in deeply, savouring the moment between the two of us. "I've always wanted to be with you like this, no anger or hatred, just pure passion. Now, get up and strip for me, I want to see your beautiful body, ok?" he smiled gently, a smile that told me it'd be ok, that he'd look after me.

I nodded and swiftly got up, slowly taking my robe off, revealing my small pyjama set. I slowly slipped off my silk pyjama shirt off, revealing my breasts to him. His breath hitched as he saw me, his eyes darkening with desire as he watched me undress, his gaze drinking in every inch of my exposed skin.

He takes in the sight of my pert nipples, the curve of my breasts and the delicate swell of my stomach, his mouth watering at the thought of tasting me.

Finally, I got to my pyjama shorts, slipping them off, revealing my lacey panties. His gaze fixates on the panties, the outline of my sex just barely visible beneath. He swallowed hard, tying to control his desire as his cock throbs painfully in his pants, "come here.." he said, his voice shaky.

I smriked and slowly walked back to him, sitting back down on his lap and pressing my lips to his. He almost immediately kisses me back, his hands gripping my waist tightly as he pulls me closer, how growing arousal pressing against my bare thigh.

He grinds his hips up, creating friction between our bodies and moans against our lips. "Oh Tom..." I whined softly, kissing him hungrily, grinding with him, my pussy getting more wet by the minute.

He can feel my wetness seeping through my panties and onto his pants, driving him wild. With a growl, he breaks the kiss and stands up, lifting me up with him. He quickly slid the things off his desk and onto the floor, setting me down.

His eyes roamed over my body, lingering on my bare breasts and the drenched lace of my panties, "I need to taste you.." he mumbled, getting onto his knees in front of me, moving his head in between my legs.

He reached for my panties, pulling them down and off of me in one swift motion. He tossed them aside and spread my legs apart, his gaze fixated on my wetness. "Fuck, you're soaked.." he said, his voice low.

"Please.." I whimpered, looking down at him with furrowed eyebrows. He chuckled and leaned in, his tongue snaking out to taste my sopping cunt.

I moaned softly as he lapped at me, his hands gripping my thighs and pulling me closer to him. He feasts on me like a man starved, his tongue exploring every inch of my pussy.

"Oh fuck!" I gasped, rolling my eyes back as I felt the pleasure shoot through my body. He groaned against my pussy, his tongue delving deeper as he tasted me fully.

His fingers find their way to my clit, rubbing slow circles around it as he continued to eat me out. Then he switched places, moving his lips to my clit and fingers to my hole, teasingly torturing me.

"Mmmmh...you taste so good.." he grunted, gripping my hips tightly, holding me in place as he eats me out. His tongue flicked back and forth over my clit as his fingers pumped into me slowly, he could feel me getting close, my legs shaking and my moans getting louder.

His fingers moved faster in me, curling at my g spot and sending shock waves throughout my body, I gripped onto the desk tightly, my knuckles going white as I felt my orgasm getting closer.

"You gonna cum baby, hm? I can feel it...your tight pussy quivering against me.." he smirked, wrapping his lips around my clit and sucking hard. I couldn't form words, only letting out little sounds of approval.

He doubled his efforts, suctioning my clit with his lips while plunging his fingers deep inside me. The combination of his tongue and fingers push me over the edge, making me cum with a loud cry, my pussy spasming around his fingers.

"Good girl.." he chuckled, sliding his tongue down to my slit and collecting every bit of juice I left for him, not wasting a single drop. He slowly rose his head to meet mine, his chin covered in my cum, glistening in the dim light.

He leaned closer, pressing a soft, tender kiss to my lips, letting me taste myself. He slowly moved down to my neck, placing soft kisses, then down to my chest, where he met my tits, his hands cupping them and squeezing gently.

"You have amazing tits, the best I've ever seen," he whispered, gently kissing my nipples as he latched onto them, sucking gently, the sensation driving me crazy. I wrapped my and around the back of his head, pulling him in closer, completely stuffing his face with my breasts.

"Y'know, I could die like this and I would never complain," he murmured against my tits, "oh really? Is that supposed to turn me on?" I bursted out laughing, he just rolled his eyes playfully and kept sucking on my tits.

His tongue slowly swirled around my sensitive buds, I could feel my pussy throb with each movement he made, his touch driving me crazy. "You want my cock baby, hm? It's aching for you.." he grinned, looking up at me, he grinded his hips against mine, rubbing his hard, clothed cock against my bare pussy, causing a delicious friction that has him moaning softly against my skin.

"Oh god yes..please.." I gasped, my hands reaching down to his pants, trying to tug them down. He smirked, stepping back from my grasping hands, taking the opportunity to remove his pants and boxers all at once. He tossed them aside and returns to me, his cock standing tall. He takes my hands in his, placing them on his shaft.

"Tom..." I looked up at him, slowly moving my hands with his, watching as his face contorted in pleasure. He leaned down, his lips meeting mine in a passionate kiss. He moaned into my mouth as I stroked his cock, his hands wandering to my breasts again.

His moans grew louder as I started to stroke him faster, my hands moving up and down on his slicked cock. His hands roughly grabbed my breasts, pinching my nipples between his fingers, "mmh!" I whined, feeling my cunt ache for him.

"So good..keep going.." he groaned, I used my other hand to grab one of his hands, "let's do it together.." I looked up at him, his eyes lit up at the idea, immediately moving towards my entrance. He shoved 2 fingers in, curling them to hit my sensitive spot again.

"Mmmh! Oh fuck!" I gasped, arching my back from his thrusts, with a low growl, Tom picked up the pace of his fingers, plunging in and out of me, harder and faster. My shaky hands jerked him off at lightning speed. He reached his thumb up to my clit, rubbing gentle circles on it, grinding his hips against my hand, chasing his own release as he finger fucks me relentlessly.

"Fuck!" he yelled out, his thrusts becoming more erratic as his own climax approached, his digits moving in and out of me at a rapid pace, "Tom! Holy shit!" I moaned loudly, pumping his shaft even more, feeling his cock throb in my hands.

He leans over, panting in my ear as he whispers, "oh baby, I want you to cum for me. Cum all over my fingers.." I nodded, whining and screwing my eyes shut, my pace never faltering on his cock, only getting harder and faster.

His balls tightened just as my pussy tightened around his fingers, signalling our orgasms in sync with each other. With one last pump of his cock and one last thrust in my sopping pussy we both came, our releases crashing down, he groaned and came all over my stomach, as I came all over his fingers.

Tom removed his fingers, bringing them to his lips and tasting my release with a devilish smirk. He then proceeds to scoop up the cum on my stomach with his fingers, offering it to me, "open up baby, I want you to taste me," he smirked, I gladly accepted them, gently sucking on his fingers, groaning at the taste of his cum.

After resting for a bit he finally spoke up, "god, I need to be inside you, I need you so bad..." he mumbled, pulling back and looking into my eyes. I nodded in approval, letting him pick me up from the desk.

He sat down on his desk chair, pulling me into his lap, our naked bodies flush against each other. His semi hard cock pressed against my thigh, he nuzzled my neck, his warm breath sending shivers down my spine.

"Are you ready princess?" he looked up at me, his eyes full of love. I gently nodded, hovering over his lap, watching his cock come back to life again, he smirked, grinding the tip of his cock in between my folds.

"Don't tease..." I spoke through gritted teeth, reaching down and grabbing his cock, slowly sitting down on it, the inches engulfing my pussy all at once. As he was fully in he shuddered in pleasure, holding my hips tightly.

He threw his head back in pleasure, his fingers digging into the flesh of my hips as he guides me up and down on his cock. The feeling of my tight pussy wrapped around him is almost too much to bear, "fuck...so good.." he murmered, thrusting up into my cunt. "Hold onto me baby, I won't go easy on you," he chuckled, moving my hands from his chest and around his neck.

I moved closer into his chest, resting my head on his shoulder as he started to piston his cock into me, hitting the right angles straight away. "Mmmm, that's it, just like that. Take my cock deep, squeeze it with that tight fucking cunt.." he growled lowly in my ear, as he started to thrust into me with more force, slamming his shaft into me with each upward stroke.

"Fuck!" I whined, planting sloppy kisses on his neck, hitting sensitive spots, causing him to moan lowly and fuck me harder, his cock pounding into me with all it's might.

He slides his hands up my back, gripping my shoulders and starting to pull me down onto his cock, fucking me harder with each thrust, his tip hitting my cervix, driving me crazy with all the pleasure I was getting just from his cock.

"Yesss! Fuck!" I whined, throwing my head back, my back arching to meet his thrusts. He grunted, his hips snapping to meet mine with increasing ferocity, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room rapidly.

I felt tension build up in my stomach, tightening into a huge knot. "I'm close Tom, don't stop!" I gasped, my hands resting on his shoulders, digging into them as his cock kept ramming into me.

"Yeah that's it, cum on my cock baby. You're gonna make me cum so hard inside you.." he chuckled darkly, "you like that huh? You like feeling my cock deep inside of you?" he smirked, leaning forward to suck and bite at my neck, leaving love bites as sovenirs.

"Yes! Yes, I love it Tom!" I cried out, stray tears dripping down my cheeks as the pleasure became almost too much. He grabbed my hips with more force, lifting me up and slamming me back down on his cock with reckless abandon, almost painfully hard and fast.

"Yessss! Oh my god!" I screamed out in pleasure, rolling my eyes back as I felt my orgasm approach quickly, my pussy starting to wrap around his cock like a snake, tightening around it.

With one last hard slam my orgasm exploded, loud moans coming from my mouth as my juices spilled all over his cock. The feeling of my cunt clamping down on his cock sent him into oblivion, slamming into me one last time and shooting his load deep in me, "fuck!" he yelped, sitting me back down on his lap.

"Oh my god.." I panted, collapsing onto his chest, my chest heaving up and down, trying to calm down from my third orgasm, my body weak on his. "Oh you did so well baby...'m so proud.." he kissed my neck gently, giving me reassuring words, nothing like he used to do.

He gently collected my hair, grabbing a hairtie off my wrist and pulling it back, brushing stray hairs from my face and tilting my chin to look up at him. He chuckled at my exhausted state, my eyes droopy and dry tears staining my face.

"Even when you're a mess you're still beautiful.." he smiled gently, kissing the tip of my nose and letting me nuzzle back into his neck. After a while of resting I popped my head up, "why were you actually struggling so much?" he paused, hesitating before sighing. "cause I couldn't stop thinking about you..." he admitted.

"That's it? I thought you were in trouble Tom, you had me worried," I sighed in relief, "no no, none of the sort, I just would always catch myself daydreaming about you, forgetting the paperwork for hours just because I was thinking of you," he blushed, embarassed to admit all of this.

"Don't be embarrassed!" I giggled, "I like to think you were thinking about me," I smirked, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. "Why don't we turn this marriage around, start over again," he gently caressed my cheek, "of course, I'd love that.." I rested my face back into his neck, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms wrapped around me.

tags: @itsmealaiah @itsangelll @ballhair

tags: @kaulitzswhxre @kaulitzsbabyy @miyukafujii

tags: @tomsonlyslut @bkaulitzlover @bills-wife-1

tags: @20doozers @ella1289 @pa1n-0f-l0ve

[suuuupernovaaa]

Clean | Hobie Brown x f!Reader

You got yourself into a little bit of a fight, and Hobie has to patch you up.

Mature. 18+. Mention of blood.

The cloth meets your tender skin, and you hiss and try to pull your hand away.

"Hobie, that hurts," you say through gritted teeth. "What is on that?"

Holding your hand tightly to your chest, as if to protect it from him, you look up to see an exasperated expression on his face.

"Stuff to clean it. Give me that back." He grabs your hand a little gruffly, and puts the cloth back on. When the sting subsides, it does feel nice and cool.

"Someone out to teach you how to throw a proper punch," Hobie says, dabbing the cloth gently, moving it up your arm to where your other scrapes are. None of them are terribly deep, except a slight gash on your thigh from, you think, falling onto some broken glass.

"I know how," you reply quietly. He moves to your other arm, and you feel the stinging again. "It wasn't much punching, anyway. It was like... clawing and shoving. It was chaotic."

He gives you your hands back, and looks down at your legs, noticing the cut on your thigh. He lets a whistle out from between his teeth, and stands up. He rinses out the cloth he's been using, and grabs a new one from his kitchen drawer. He puts more 'stuff' on it, and returns to you, sitting down.

"This is gonna hurt." He scoots close, so that your legs are between his, and without another warning, presses the cloth to your cut.

"Oh crap!" you shout, and you're annoyed when Hobie starts chuckling.

"Oh crap!" he mimics in a high-pitched voice, meant to resemble yours. He places a large bandage on your leg, and a couple others on cuts that look a little nastier on your arms, and then sits back. "Think you'll survive," he comments. "Now, you need to tell me why you were in a fight. Looked like a couple of cats in a bag when I arrived."

You turn away, looking from where you sit at his kitchen table over to the TV, which is showing the news. Hobie always has the news on, even though he hates it and everything they ever talk about.

"It just, escalated. She was a fan, I guess, of the band. And she asked if I knew you, and I said yes. And she said... some not nice things. She was just drunk."

You're his whore, then? Do you think I could get in on some of that? I'm sure he's not very picky. I mean, look at you.

You can feel the way she grabbed at your stomach, pinching it. It felt like something scripted out of a bad teen movie, except it was really happening, and she just wouldn't stop.

"What did she say?" Hobie asks. When you look back at him, he's leaned forward, eyes narrowed, lips pursed.

"It doesn't really matter. It's over."

"It matters to me."

You shake your head and wave your hand in the air, as if to dismiss the conversation. "Really, Hobie. It was just, I don't want to relive it."

He reaches out and places a warm hand on your bruised knee. "Tell me."

You roll your eyes and sigh. "She said like, I must be, uh, sleeping with you and your standards must be low because... I'm like, fat, or whatever."

Hobie sits up, his back straight as a board, his eyebrows raised and his jaw a little slack. "And you beat the shit out of her?"

You draw your line into a straight mouth and nod. "Sort of. I mean, I can't fight but, she was bleeding and crying at the end of it. I was bleeding too but, I wasn't crying."

He nods, as if in approval. "Why does she think we're sleeping together?" he asked. "She's seen you, at a show or something?"

"I didn't get a whole backstory, Hobie. I guess so."

"Hm." He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest. "Must've noticed how I look at you. Everyone has. 'Cept you."

How Hobie looks at you? You try to think of what he could be referring to. Sometimes when he's on stage, he finds you in the crowd and smiles. But, you're good friends, so that doesn't seem all that exciting to you - does it seem that way to everyone else?

"How do you look at me?"

"Like I'd like to fuck you, Y/N. Like the shape of your body is all I can think about, and it really doesn't fucking matter what anyone else thinks about it. It fucking keeps me up at night."

It feels like you've been slapped in the chest, and all the air has left your lungs. Your mouth is instantly dry, and your legs feel weak.

Hobie is so dry, so even-toned, it's hard to tell if he's joking or not - but would that be a funny joke right now? Hobie is a lot of things, but he's not insensitive, and he certainly wouldn't try to hurt you on purpose.

"It does?" you ask finally.

He leans forward again, bringing his face just a few inches from yours. "I want you, Y/N. I thought I'd made it obvious, but now I see, I didn't."

You lick your bottom lip, and Hobie glances down at your mouth.

"Can I kiss you?" you ask, and a soft moan escapes his mouth, as if asking for permission turns him on. You feel his fingertips on your cheek, running upwards, until he cups your face in his hand.

You should close your eyes, you think, but the sight of him coming towards you is the most beautiful thing you've ever seen. His soft brown eyes, his full lips, his sharp cheek bones, his glistening piercings; you want to remember every sharp edge and round corner.

He pauses, just before your lips meet and whispers, "Anything you want to do to me, you can."

[wings-of-ink]

How about a little something extra for your reading pleasure?

Below is the little story (around 3800 words) I posted about doing here. It's a fictionalized retelling of how we found our little Shadow cat. It's not terribly dramatic or anything, but it's a bit cute, especially for those of you who are a fan of Nathanael in the story. You get to see a little more of him at a different stage of his life. ^_^

~~~

Nathan stretched, looking up at the clear sky. It was bright, big, and beautiful, as always. Puffy clouds were rolling by, occasionally blotting out the sun, but only for a moment.

"It's gonna rain tonight," a voice said behind him.

Nathan turned, spotting his friend, Andrina, as she approached carrying a crate. "You think?" he asked, turning his face back to the sky. "Doesn't look that way to me."

"Here, you oaf, take this – it's heavy," she chided, thrusting the crate into his hands. "That's the last one."

"Thank you, dear," he said, lugging it onto the back of the wagon with the others.

"I'm tellin' you, cover that shit with a tarp unless you want all your merchandise soaked." Andrina heaved herself up on the side of the wagon, light ginger hair flopping over her face, concealing her bright blue eyes. "You have one right? I'm not helping you dry all this shit when we get home."

"Yes, Mother, I'll get right on it." Nathan laughed.

"If you weren't so bad at takin' care of yourself, I wouldn't have to mother you!"

Nathan rolled his eyes as he began to unfasten the tarp from the other side of the wagon. He sighed. He really needed to get something with a roof. Not that selling out of the back of the wagon was difficult, but it was becoming a hassle this way. He paused for a moment as he fiddled with the ties binding the tarp together. That feeling was settling in again. Something felt like it was missing. He was anxious, restless, feeling like he'd long forgotten something. He had hoped this feeling would leave him for good, it seemed as though he was wrong.

How long had he lived here again? Four or five years now? He liked living with Andrina and Erik, they'd become wonderful friends and he didn't want to leave them just yet or maybe ever. It had been long since he had such good friends. Settling anywhere for long always left him with these odd feelings. He hated it and wished he could just settle somewhere like most people did. But, if he wanted to try to live a somewhat normal existence, this was the way it needed to be. Maybe one day he would figure out a way to live that didn't make his skin itch with dissatisfaction. Maybe he would figure out why it was this way for him. Someday.

"Nathan?" a soft voice asked.

"Hm?" His attention snapped to the figure standing next to him. Erik – dark brown eyes peeked through his messy black hair with a look of concern.

"You did that thing again. Are you sure you don't need to see a healer about that? Andrina said your name but it was like you couldn't hear." Erik's thin bony hand gently touched his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, I was just lost in thought. I promise I am well, my mind has just been loud lately."

Andrina reached across from her perch on the wall of the wagon. "Hand over the tarp, cloud-dreamer, and let's get on the road."

Nathan nodded, unrolling the tarp and giving the end of it to his friend as they all worked to secure it. Before long, they were on the road again and heading home. Andrina sat on the back of the wagon smoking her pipe as Erik sat at the front with Nathan while the horses walked the familiar path, not needing any guidance.

Erik nudged Nathan's shoulder. "I think I might know what's going on with you," his quiet voice said.

"Yeah?" Nathan raised an eyebrow. It was unlike Erik to speak up in such a way so casually.

"Yes, you should grow the beard." Erik smiled, trying to stifle a laugh.

Nathan snorted, raising a hand to feel along his chin. He'd kept it smooth for as long as he could remember. "Do you think I'd look good with one? Would it age me?"

Erik shrugged. "I think it would give you an attractive flair. Maybe make you look smarter."

"Ha!" Andrina laughed. "No, it'd make you look like one of those scammy so-called magicians that swindle kids for pocket money!"

Nathan pouted and Erik chuckled but notably did not disagree.

Erik went quiet again before taking a deep breath. "I think you're a little lonely."

Nathan almost laughed. "What? How could I be with you and Mother Hen always around?"

"There's different types of loneliness you know. There's a type for romance, for friends, for family – for silence…you just need to figure out which one tugs at your own heart. We've known you long enough to see the signs, even if you ignore them."

The conversation stopped there, giving Nathan a great deal to think about. Erik had a way of doing that to him. He was such a mild person but had a way of sneaking deep truths in without warning. And Andrina's uncharacteristic silence spoke volumes about her agreement.

Was it really that simple? Was he just missing out on something? But what could it be? He lived comfortably enough, had friends old and new all around, and his business was flourishing…what was missing?

"Hey!" Andrina called. "That little shop at the edge of town was opening today. We should eat there when we get home."

The men agreed and the rest of the way was filled with amiable silence and pipe smoke.

~~~

Andrina had been right.

It started raining halfway home. The bright sky slipped to grey as clouds blotted out the sun and a steady trickle began to fall. A cold chill clung to the wind from the north as well. When they arrived at the eatery, which appeared to be little more than a large shed with a stone oven in the center, they found a table without issue. It was late enough in the day, the rush of patrons clamoring for dinner had already gone. The warmth of the place was very welcome after their journey.

A clearly exhausted employee slapped three tankards on the table. "Welcome to Pista's Hut. We have ale. You get ale," they said, voice flat.

The three friends nodded, not about to argue.

"You're late for dinner, the cook will throw what we have left in the oven and that will be that. It'll be out in a bit." They walked away without another word.

Andrina chuckled. "Well, you two can never decide anyway, so this works in our favor. Ale's good at least."

Erik shrugged and picked up his tankard. "I'll eat anything."

Nathan sipped his drink, his thoughts still stuck on what Erik had told him earlier. The ale was good…

A while later, the server returned holding a metal tray and slapped it in the middle of the table. "Okay, we only had some dough, tomatoes, and a bit of cheese. The cook whipped this up for you. Smells good at least, and it's the best we got." They dropped a heavy cleaver on the table, making everything on it rattle. "Here's a knife to cut it. I'll bring more ale," they said before turning heel and walking away.

The three friends stared at their meal. What appeared to be a giant bit of flat bread was stretched wide on the tray, smeared with crushed tomatoes, bits of cheese melted on top. The bread was toasty in places and the top of the construction steamed, wafting a tasty fragrance into the air.

Andrina grabbed the cleaver, which Nathan quickly took from her. "Not after what happened last time, Andi."

She flopped back dramatically into her chair, cheeks puffing out. Erik covered his mouth as he tried not to giggle.

Nathan studied the food and began to cut the best way he could figure out. It was shaped like a pie or cake, so he split it into triangles. They each took a slice and began to eat silently.

After a few bites, they all looked at each other in silence, each waiting for the other to speak.

Erik began, "Is it just me or is this damn delicious?"

Nathan concurred, "It is absolutely delectable."

Andrina stuffed her slice into her mouth, working it around as it burnt her tongue.

The three devoured the construct, save for one small piece. When the server came to collect their dishes, they took the last bit, uncaring if strangers had touched it, and began to eat. The morsel seemed to cheer them up at least.

Thunder rolled outside as the friends finished their drinks. Home wasn't far at least, though they'd probably be soaked through by the time they reached it and put the horses and wagon away.

They piled outside after a time, huddled under cloaks as the rain continued. Nathan checked the cargo for tampering and the horses, slipping them a few sugar cubes for their wait, making promises of comfort to come.

He was about to load up when he heard a small clamor, like things falling, drawing his attention to an alley beside the eatery. It was dark, nothing but bins of waste scattered around.

"What is it?" Andrina asked.

Nathan shrugged. "Just thought I heard something."

He moved to the driver's seat of the wagon and was about to get seated when he heard something else.

Mew. Mew.

He stopped and looked again, still not seeing anything.

Erik leaned over. "Is that an animal? Look there by the bins."

Nathan couldn't see anything, so he went down the alley, walking slowly and listening.

Mew.

Mew…

Little squeaky sounds came from under a large bin. They ceased when Nathan reached it. He squatted low and peered under it, trying not to gag from the smell.

A little soggy ball of fur stared back at him with scared green eyes.

Nathan began to reach for it but stilled a moment. "Are you a rat? Are you going to bite me?"

Mew. 

"No, you must be a cat…I think…" He scooped up the tiny thing.

Nathan brought the creature over to an awning with a lantern hanging so he could see. It was a tiny kitten cold and wet, no bigger than his palm. It mewed in distress but didn't try to get away from him.

"My, my you aren't very old. Is your momma around?" Nathan looked back down the alley.

"What is it?" Erik called from the wagon.

"A kitten!" Nathan answered. "I'll be a moment, I'm going to look for its mother!"

Andrina groaned dramatically and then laughed as Erik chided her.

Nathan held the kitten close to his heart to share his warmth as he slowly plodded down the alley, calling in a sweet voice for any critters. After peeking around to the back of the building and spotting nothing, Nathan headed back, finding that the disenchanted server from earlier was taking a crate into the alley.

"Excuse me, dear, have you seen a mother cat around here?" Nathan held the kitten up for reference. "This one appears to have gotten lost."

They shook their head. "Nah, that one has been out here all day. Saw it this morning. If the momma didn't fetch it by now, she's not coming back."

Nathan's heart sank. "All day? It's been raining…"

"Just leave it where you found it, nature will take its course."

"No!" Nathan suddenly spat. He held the little creature closer and then cleared his throat. "No…Sorry, I'll just take it then."

"Fine by me."

Nathan hustled down the alley back to his friends and hopped up into the wagon. Passing the reins to Erik, everyone stared at the little furball who had gone quiet.

"We have a cat now?" Andrina asked.

Nathan sighed. "We…have a cat now. For now, I suppose. I'll figure it out."

The little creature snuggled closely to Nathan's chest the whole way home. It didn't make another sound, happier now that it was warm and blocked from the rain. There was a pull at Nathan's heart, a clear sadness a the sight of the defenseless kitten.

Once home, they guided the horses and cart into the barn and Nathan left his friends in charge of the horses. This kitten was little and too young for solid food. They didn't have much to offer it, but if there was one creature who could help it was Jaala – the goat who hated him.

Erik seemed to be the only one whom the goat respected enough to milk her, but Nathan had some extra sugar to offer in exchange for a bit of milk to help the kitten. He found a crate, filled it with straw, and settled the kitten inside who began to mew as soon as the comfort of being held faded.

"Just a moment little one, I need to make sure I can feed you."

Grabbing the milk pale, he checked to make sure it was clean before facing Jaala. She glared at him immediately, snorting in displeasure and standing defensively in front of her sleeping kid.

"Sorry girl, just me tonight," Nathan said as he searched his pockets for sugar. "Here, to sweeten the deal." He held out a cube to the goat who glared as she plucked it from his hands, biting his fingers in the process. Nathan tamped down his reaction.

He placed the bucket down as the goat barely tolerated his presence. "I need just a little bit of milk. Do you hear the kitty? Just like your little one, he needs something to eat." Nathan offered another sugar cube which the goat snatched right away.

As she chewed, he positioned the bucket and knelt beside her, quick to offer another sweet to keep her agreeable as he began to milk her. He rationed the last two cubes to get enough for a good meal for the kitten, quickly packing up and giving the goat her space when he was done.

The cat continued to mew from the safety of its little nest. Nathan sat in the straw and plucked the furball up again, bringing it to his chest. Pulling a handkerchief from the inner pocket of his robe, he soaked a bit of it in the milk and brought it to the little kitten's mouth. It latched on right away, suckling hungrily at the cloth until it was practically dry. Nathan dipped it again and repeated the process until the little one had drank all there was. And with a full belly, it fell asleep in his hands.

Nathan took the crate and the kitten inside with him where his friends had started a good fire. He changed his clothes and put on something dry, keeping an eye on the little one. All of them sat around the fireplace, sprawled on the couches and rugs there.

"Sucker," Andrina chided with a smile.

Nathan sighed. "I couldn't leave the poor thing to die."

Erik's dog, a massive black and white hound, sniffed around the crate, wagging his tail happily before getting up on Erik's lap. "Reminds me of when we found you," Erik said, patting his dog's head.

Nathan wrinkled his nose. "Yes, yes, I'm akin to a half-drowned cat with no teeth."

Andrina began packing her pipe. "You gonna keep the thing?"

He shook his head. "No, I'll just make sure it doesn't suffer and I'm sure one of the shops or farms could use a mouser."

Erik and Andrina looked at each other and smiled. They knew better.

As the days went by, most of Nathan's attention was on the little kitten. Once it was all dried and cleaned up, fed and happy, it still didn't shut up – unless Nathan held it. He kept it close, swaddled around his chest in a sling since its little cries made him feel…odd. Many of the townspeople stared when they realized a small kitten was tucked close to his chest, but Nathan didn't mind. He was already the oddball in town as it was, he would be stared at and whispered about anyway, this just gave them something to actually chatter about.

He talked to the little cat most of the day, asking its opinion on prices and what goods would sell the best in the coming season. The little creature didn't have much to offer but helped Nathan think by just listening.

Jaala the goat even became a bit friendlier, she almost didn't bite. But thanks to her generosity, the little kitten grew quickly. It filled the little sling and was able to reach out far enough to tap Nathan on the chin with little claws. Once the little one was big enough, Nathan could tell it was a male, and quickly dubbed him, "Cat," and sometimes, "sweet boy" when no one was watching.

As more time passed and the cat outgrew his little sling, he instead rode upon Nathan's shoulders instead. The merchant was not short of offers to take the cat who was growing to be quite a handsome sight – completely grey from nose to tail with bright green eyes. He had a dignified appearance – a dignity which ended strictly at his looks, Nathan observed. He was rather inelegant for a cat, his timing for everything could not be worse and he had nearly killed Nathan no fewer than 15 times on the stairs. But the little thing had no fear of dogs, or any other creature large or small. Nathan knew better by now that it wasn't bravery – he was just too dumb to know better. Nathan turned all of the offers that he received down, of course, saying that the cat had a bit more growing to do…

A whole season came and went before folks stopped asking. Everyone but Nathan knew the little stray had already found a permanent home.

As he sat lost in thought in the barn, staring at his wagon, a little paw came up to pat his chin. Luckily, the scruffy beard there protected it from the wicked claws.

"What do you want, Cat?" he asked, absently bringing his hand to the cat's head and scratching. "Oh…guess I answered my own question." He laughed. "You have trained me well."

The cat reached up and rubbed his head against Nathan's new beard, enjoying the scratchiness against his fur. The rumble of purrs became loud.

Nathan smiled. "You really are my sweet boy, aren't you. What do you think we ought to do, hm?" He glanced at the wagon, the goods stored there were dwindling. The thought of traveling to refill his stock was a bit exciting, even if he didn't need to go very far. "I want to take you with me, but I worry…"

Moow?

"No, we tried the leash, you rolled around like it was a snake trying to eat you."

Mrrrr.

"You did too."

The cat huffed.

"And Andi says I'm the dramatic one…"

Meoooow.

"I do trust you, I just worry you'll wander off and get lost. You may look elegant, but you're not the brightest. And what if someone tries to steal you away?"

The cat turned fierce eyes on Nathan and stared.

"You are so strange."

"Says the man talking to a cat," Erik's voice responded, making Nathan startle.

"Blessed stars, you scared the shit out of me!"

Erik chuckled as he approached, sitting across from Nathan and his cat in the straw. "Well, I'm not sorry…I came to check on you."

"Check on me?" Nathan scratched down the cat's back, bringing back his purring.

"Mm-hmm, you're doing that thing again."

"Yes?"

"It's a little different this time. You're not completely despondent." Erik laughed. "It's been nice. You've seemed happier now that you have a pet."

Nathan shook his head. "I don't have a pet…I…" He stared down at the purring mess in his lap which was currently working its claws into Nathan's fine robe.

"No, no, you're right. You don't have a pet…You are the pet. That little grey thing has you completely wrapped around his paw. You wore him around in a sling meant for children for crying out loud."

"He was cold…" Nathan bit down on a smile.

Erik snorted a laugh. "You're sweet you know. And I want to say something as a friend. Something me and Andi have been talking about for a while now."

"Go on, don't hold back."

"We all have secrets. We all have private things that we desire – hopes and even dreams that we aren't always aware of…. In a strange way, I think you've found one of those things you've needed. You still try to deny it – you haven't even named the poor thing, and we all know that cat isn't going anywhere."

Nathan nodded.

Erik continued. "You're restless. I know you are. I don't know everything about you, but we've been friends for years now and I think you're trying to hide just how restless you are even from yourself."

The truth stung.

"I wanted to tell you that it's okay. Some people aren't meant to settle at all and others are only meant to settle once they've found what they need. Me and Andi aren't going anywhere, you know that. One day we may even go our separate ways, maybe partner up with a lover or something, but we won't wander far from here."

Nathan nodded.

"Figure out what works for you. You now have a little someone that will go with you now. You can always come home."

"Should I call you 'poppa' now? That was a lot of wisdom considering how much younger than me you are." Nathan laughed.

Erik lightly kicked him in the foot. "I don't know where it came from…I actually came out here to warn you."

"About what?"

"Your little bundle of joy took a huge shit in Andi's bed and she is furious."

"Again?"

Erik nodded.

Nathan tried to hide his grin. "Guess I'm on laundry duty today then…I'll get to it in a moment."

Erik stood, clasping Nathan's hand in his own for a moment before leaving him in peace.

The little cat reached up again, purring and rubbing against his beard. Nathan wrapped his arms around the little furball and lightly hugged.

"How do you do it?" he asked as if the cat could answer. "Are you a magic cat? Hm? You can tell me, just whisper your truth to me." Nathan turned his ear to the cat who only nibbled at it in response. "I don't think I've ever had a pet before…"

MOOW.

"Sorry, I don't think I have ever been a pet before." He sighed. "Fuck sake, Erik is right. I am horribly smitten, aren't I? And you do need a proper name…"

Nathan stared at the cat's expanse of grey fur. He recalled how whenever the cat chose to hide he was impossible to find. The only way to spot him in the darkness was to catch the glimmer from his eyes.

Nathan picked up his sweet boy, staring into his eyes. "You're impossible to spot in the dark, you are so completely grey that even your toes match, and you are always following me…you are always…in my shadow."

Meow.

"Shadow."

Mrp?

Nathan smiled. "My little Shadow."

[golden-moony]

king of my heart | pt. 4

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

------------------------------------------------------

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, landonorris, and 74,922 others!

yourusername life lately 💌

user1 swiftie, romcom lover and f1 fan... she's really one of us🩷

user2 and that's why she's the girlies' bestie

user3 QUEEN WE MISSED U SO MUCH

user4 as pretty as always 😍

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user22 yn please don't leave us again 🥺

📞 calling Pato

[yn; normal] [pato; cursive]

"Hi-"

"I'm not gonna lie, you are either very brave or very stupid for calling me right after the videos of your little date with Lando are going viral. Did you get tired of hiding your relationship?"

"...Guess I deserve that."

"[sights] What do you want, yn?"

"I swear I won't take up much of your time. I just want to talk... well, apologize, actually. I'd prefer to do it face to face rather than over the phone but I know that right now I'm probably the last person you wanna see. At least this way, if you don't wanna keep listening to me, you can just end the call."

"Well, I'm very tempted to end the call right now."

"Pato, I-"

"However, I'm also very curious about what you have to say."

"So...?"

"So I'll give you a chance to talk. But I promise you yn, if I hear any lame excuses, I will hang up and block you. Are we clear?"

"Hundred percent clear."

"Then talk."

"Well... first of all, I'm sorry. I'm really, really sorry. I promise it was never my intention to hurt you, even if I ended up doing it anyway. I should've told you from the beginning the kind of relationship I had with Lando and I should've been honest with you, especially when my feelings towards you changed to something deeper. I kno-"

"Hold on. What?"

"What do you mean what?"

"What did you just say?"

"That I'm sorry I lied to yo-"

"No, no. The part about your feelings."

"Oh. Well... you heard me. And I don't know why you sound so surprised. I mean, what happened between me and Lando in Spain was a stupid and terrible decision I made, and I should've known better cause my feelings for you were getting stronger."

"Then why did you sleep with him?"

"I... [sights]. I've thought about it a lot in the last few weeks, you know? I was trying to put all the blame on Lando when in the end I was the one who took the initiative. We were just going to talk to end that situationship once and for all, and then I kissed him. And instead of stopping him when he was going for more, I just let it happen cause in my head it was a form of goodbye. Clearly I ended up feeling guilty but the damage was done. And when I could've made things right by telling you the truth about what happened, I didn't. I was embarrassed, but mostly scared of losing the best man I've ever known... but that ended up happening anyway, and I'm to blame for that."

"..."

"Pato?"

"Did you love him?"

"No. We started out as friends and one day I realized I was attracted to him, one night one thing led to another and we became friends with benefits ever since. He didn't want a relationship at that time and neither did I. But in the last few months that changed for me. I wanted a partner, a committed relationship. Lando wasn't that and I was tired of being just a "casual thing". So no. I liked him, but I never loved him."

"So what was that date night about?"

"Just us being adults and having a real and necessary conversation. I had things to apologize for and so did he. I think Lando and I finally found common ground and are ready to move forward... not with each other, just to be clear. Just friends and nothing else."

"For real this time?"

"For real this time. My priorities and my heart are elsewhere."

"Oh, really? Where?"

"I could tell you or I could show you. To be honest, and if you let me, I'd rather show you. You know, actions speak louder than words."

"Yeah, I've heard that. You have any idea?"

"It depends. What are you doing on Friday?"

pacers

liked by elbaoward, tyresehaliburton, arrowmclaren, and 43,942 others!

pacers We had some motorsport representation in the house tonight!

user1 ynpato being hard launched (again?) by the pacers was not on my bingo card but i appreciate it🫶

user2 this is so random and i love it!! user3 the pacers earned my respect after this 🫡 user4 pacers stonks after this hard launch📈📈📈

user5 YNPATO BASKETBALL DATE? WE WON FR

user6 this is like straight out of a movie 😻 user7 THEY'RE SO ROMCOM CODED

user8 NOOO PATO NOT HER AGAIN ��😫

user9 right? my week has been ruined. user10 keep cryin' haters 😘

indycar Hi yn and pato!! 👋

user11 basket date a few days after her post? she's an icon AND the mastermind fr 💅

user12 context?? user13 user12 her last ig post included a pic of "how to lose a guy in 10 days" and some people were speculating it could mean something, now yn goes with pato to a basketball game just like in the movie 😂 user14 SHE MANIFESTED IT AS THE QUEEN SHE IS🙌

user15 real question is: yourusername did Pato get you a soda?

patriciooward of course i did! 🙄 yourusername not only that but he also got his head in the game😏🏀 user16 I'M LIVING FOR THIS REFERENCES

user17 they make such a beautiful couple omg🥹

user18 are y'all forgetting she was in a date with lando just a few days ago????

user19 she belongs to the streets fr user20 the day y'all understand yn can be friends with lando or anyone is when you'll finally grow up.

user21 not related but she always slays with her outfits🔥

user22 fashion icon for real 🤩 user23 i want her wardrobe so bad😩

user24 YNPATO CONFIRMED 🚀🚀🚀

user25 i just wanna know if pato can fight 🤺

user26 i wanna be her so badly 😩

user27 same girl, same

yourusername posted to their story!

yourusername

liked by arrowmclaren, oscarpiastri, frosenqvist, and 79,889 others!

yourusername And all at once, you are the one I have been waiting for. King of my heart, body and soul 🧡

user1 MOM AND DAD ARE THRIVING 😍

user2 and we love to see it! user3 this is their world and we're just living in it

user4 yn is stronger than me cause if Pato looked at me like in the second pic... 😳😳

user5 IKR??? I'M DEAD user6 i was not ready for that, i'm currently on the floor user7 i meaaaan she's dating him, she already won in life

user8 THE CAPTION???? omg they're so cute🥹

user9 YNPATO AND TAYLOR GANG WE WON

user10 relationship goals for real ❤️‍🔥

user11 tired of being a spectator, I WANT WHAT THEY HAVE😭

landonorris if you three weren't that cute i'd try to steal Norbi from you

patriciooward back off, Norris 🤺 landonorris watch out, O'Ward 🤺 yourusername oh hell no mclaren arrowmclaren may i have permission to ground these kids? mclaren you may proceed 😉 patriciooward WHAT landonorris THE BETRAYAL user12 i used to pray for interactions like these 😭😭 user13 user12 we've come so far 😭 user14 WAAAAR IS OOOOVER

user15 yn's living her best life and i'm so happy for her 🤧

elbaoward I don't appreciate being left out of the photo, but I love you lovebirds anyway 💘

yourusername imma post a dump of just beautiful pics of you😘 love u elbaoward i'll be waiting then ☺️ patriciooward i also want a photo dump🥺 yourusername no 😚 user16 i want to belong to this family so bad, do you need a nanny for Norbi or anything?

user17 atp I'm just waiting for the engagement announcement

user18 same but i don't think i'll survive it user19 CAN U IMAGINE? OMG

user20 tag yourself i'm Norbi in the last pic

patriciooward te amo, preciosa ❤️

yourusername love u more, handsome 🥰 user21 AND I LOVE YOU BOTH

taglist: @drunkinthemiddleoftheday @evie-119 @evans-dejong @minkyungseokie @noneofyourfbusinessworld @bernelflo @eiaaasamantha @ijustgomessitupx @honethatty12 @daemyratwst @f1fan65 @littlexscarletxwitch @sheslikeacurse @charlottejpg @lichterfee @callsignwidow @phantomxoxo @stinkyjax @rubywingsracing @willowpains @urfavsgf @biitch-with-wifi @lightdragonrayne @illicitverstappen @herebereblogs @tvdtw4ever @nataliambc @norwayxo

author's note: AND THAT'S A WRAP! Thank you so much for giving this story a chance💖 To my Lando girlies, don't be mad! He was a jerk in this story but I'll post another one where he gets the love he actually deserves. And to my Pato girlies, stay tuned! I plan to post more stories with him cause it's what our lovely man deserves. And if you want me to write about some other driver, feel free to send me a request! I'll see what I can do🧡 See y'all soon!

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Supe Hating Their Powers

Requested: Hii! I loved what you wrote for my last request, so I figured I'd drop another one✨ May I request a the boys preference where it's basically (bear with me, I'm gonna try to explain) reader is a supe, but refuses to use their powers bc of whatever reason (feeling dangerous, not liking the ability, keeping it secret etc) But it's their reaction to when their S/O uses their abilities to protect them, bc no matter how terribly they hate being a supe, they'd embrace it to keep them safe - @ghostlyaccurate

Requested: hii! how are you doing? may i request a The Boys preference where reader is a supe, but their powers are very self-destructive (like, using it too much could be dangerous to reader themself), and basically their reaction to reader using their abilities to save them, despite it nearly killing themself? also, so sorry if this is too dark! you can totally change it to just being tiring if your more comfortable writing that <3 - @yinorathedragontamer

A/N: I combined these two requests, I hope you don't mind!! I love both of these ideas and I thought they'd work well together :) I imagine it like Cate with her eyes/seizures when she pushes too much/too many people. I made all the powers different cuse I thought it would be more interesting! Thank you for requesting!!! Feedback is always appreciated 💜💜💜

Butcher never wanted you to use your powers if you didn't want to. But when he needed saving, you didn't give it a second thought. Your powers feel like burning alive. The fire, the flames, they're powerful, but it's excruciating. You save him I the end, but you spend days after feeling like you've been burned at the stake. There are no actual physical burns, but your body still feels that way. It never gets easier, either. He's grateful you saved him, but he knows how painful your powers can be. He tries to help as much as possible, but there's really nothing you can do but wait it out. It was one of the first things he ever knew about you: you're a Supe with side effects. He didn't realize how bad it would be until you were locking yourself away, trying to ease the burning sensation around your whole body.

Hughie knew what happened when you healed other people. You'd told him in graphic detail the last time you'd used your abilities. He told you you'd never have to use them, ever. But he was hurt. He was losing consciousness. You were the only one who could help him. You were the only one who could save him. So, you did. And in return your skin unzipped, blood pouring out of you. You couldn't breathe. You couldn't make a sound. You would have to die before you could go back to normal. Hughie hated watching this. He begged for help, but there was no one around. It was horrible. He'd wake up from nightmares where you'd die and die again. You told him it wouldn't happen again, that you were sorry he'd have to see that. He knew he should have been grateful, that you saved him, but it was awful. You knew how awful it was and that's why you never used it.

Annie refused to let you use your powers. She told you outright she had it handled, but when the time came for her to fight, you knew it was a losing battle. You could leave your body and take over others. You jumped from body to body, taking each person out, but by the time you find you way back to your body you're exhausted, your eyes bloodshot, your mind cloudy. Like Cate, you're susceptible to seizures when you push yourself too much, when you spread yourself too thin. The more people you take over, the worse it gets. Annie feels awful that you had to save her, when you had to risk your health and safety. It was amazing to see. As soon as you took over their bodies she could tell it was you. But the side effects were awful. She couldn't stop worrying about you, worrying about what would happen.

M.M. never realized what your powers would entail. You could read other people's minds. That didn't seem so bad. You rarely ever used it, though. He never pushed you to explain or use it, but when the team needed you, when your abilities were the only answer, you did what you could. Days later you were still hearing people. You tried to drown it out with TV and music, but they were in your head. It felt like the while city was talking through your brain. Screaming and crtuing and laughter and fears and worries and everything. Every feeling and thought a person could he capable of, that's what you were experiencing. It was horrible. You were never sure how long it lasted. It felt like an eternity. You cried to him, trying to keep it together, but all you could hear was his apologies. He felt awful for asking you to do this.

Frenchie never would have asked you to save him, save the day, but you had no choice. He was in danger. You would have done anything to protect him. Your sonic scream is rarely ever shown off. You're not totally embarrassed by it, but it has some pretty awful side effects. Plus you didn't love being a Supe. You felt lied to by your family. When you do scream, heads splatter. Frenchie was shocked you were capable of that. Afterwards your throat burns, you lose your voice. You can't talk for days, maybe even weeks, and though you try not to, you can't help but try to talk, argue, bicker with The Boys. Your voice sounds so painful, gravely, and he encourages you to put it on rest. It's your throat that hurts, like it's on fire. You rarely ever used your abilities because it was a one and done deal. You were powerful, you could kill, but it came with it's own consequences.

Kimiko only knew the general ideas about your Supe abilities. Your blood was poison. You had to he careful about getting hurt or rooms full of people, a whole hospital floor, would he dead. Kimiko had been seriously hurt and though you knew she would come back fine, your anger and hurt got the better of you. You slice yourself open, spewing blood everywhere, all over the bad guys. Before then you urged The Boys to get out of there, not wanting to hurt your teammates. Everyone around you drops dead. You stitch yourself up alone, making sure there's not a drop of blood left outside of your body. Kimiko is horrified at your work and the fact that you hurt yourself so badly for her when she ended up being fine. It hurt and made you feel like a freak, but you did it for her. Besides, your stitches were getting a little better.

[moonmeg]

Permanent

Micah's body was warm. Robyn allowed himself to sink into the warmth, enclosed in the slightly muscular arms of his boyfriend, a steady breathing faintly moving the chest underneath his head up and down again. His smell, reminiscent of that a forest has after a small summer storm, lingered in Robyn's nostrils. There was a soft comfort to it. A feeling of home and safety. Robyn tightened his arms around Micah's waist and buried his face in the crook of his neck. He slipped his leg underneath Micah's, entangling it like a vine. It was like he did everything he could to hold onto Micah. As if he'd dissappear the moment Robyn would let loose.

"I'm sorry.", he mumbled.

Micah curled some strands of Robyn's brown locks around his fingers a little lazily. It had gotten a bit longer. He wasn't sure if it was intentionally being grown out or if Robyn's situation simply kept delaying cutting it. He let his fingers brush along his scalp through the dense hair.

"What for?"

Robyn tilted his head out of the crook of Micah's neck. Quietly he replied: "Walzing in here unannounced, crying about things I can't change like a bastard and then keeping you from important school work."

"Nonsense.", Micah smiled, "I'd pick ye over school work any and everyday."

He placed his other hand on Robyn's back, carefully tracing the fold running down the middle of it up and down.

Robyn stayed silent for a little.

"I feel so terrible.", he admitted. He reinforced the tightness of his embrace.

"Please don't.", Micah urged in his soft voice he always used when Robyn was vulnerable around him. He allowed his lips to hover over Robyn's temples as he continued: "I don't mind this. I love ye and ye need this comfort now, so that's what I'll do."

"That's exactly it!", Robyn prepped himself up on his arm and met Micah's wide, stunned eyes. Lissa and Snowball peeked up from Micah's side where they were curled up comfortably and calmly - suddenly disturbed in their peace.

"You always do so much for me. You're always there for me. You've always been. You always find the right words to say, you always tell me these things that make my heart wrench. Things like that I'm amazing and strong and beautiful and smart and good-hearted. That I'm more than what I define myself by. That I'm not a mess. That I'm lovable in any way or form. You're such a good boyfriend and I sometimes feel like I don't deserve this.", Robyn's voice started cracking towards the end. He was on the verge of crying, but he didn't want to be. Not in front of Micah. Not now. Not again. He wasn't embarrassed to show his emotions before Micah but this was one of those times where he desperately didn't want to cry. He fought it with all of his might, he tried to ease the hurt in his throat and to stop the tears from even forming in his eyes. Having cried once in Micah's presence today was enough.

Micah's brows furrowed and his face expressed a peculiar mix of confusion and concern. And yet, he didn't raise his voice at Robyn but kept it in a softer, calmer tone with an underlying seriousness.

"Why in Titan's name would ye think that?!"

"Because I AM a mess! Compared to you I don't give you these many words of affirmation. I barely tell you all the great things you are. They're constantly in my mind and I love you so damn much but I always forget or for some stupid reasons struggle telling you. You're the sweetest, loveliest and most wonderful person ever. You're the type of boyfriend people dream of and wish for. Heck, I'm sure my mother is hoping she'll get you as son-in-law someday. You're perfect. Everything about you is perfect. You deserve a boyfriend who makes you feel loved the way you make me feel loved. And I feel like I'm messing it all up. Like I'm a disaster of a boyfriend. And I'm so sorry about that, Micah."

And that was it. The point where he lost control over the tears in his eyes and the sobs in his throat. He couldn't hold either back anymore. He's said too much for his own good. Wanting to hide the sight of his face from his boyfriend, he buried his face in his palms and curled up on the free space on Micah's right.

Micah's heart broke once he heard the views Robyn has on himself and the quiet sobs that Robyn still tried to hide.

When Micah met Robyn, back when the dark blonde hair had not yet yielded to the saturated brown and his bright smile gave way to a chipped tooth, he was confident. Never in an arrogant manner, but Robyn knew he was a gifted witch and had the potential to be among the greatest and strongest witches of Bonesborough, if not the entire Boiling Isles, and it gave Robyn a healthy ego. Rather than just bragging about his talent, he wanted to share his knowledge and understanding of magic with others. Including Micah most of all. While Robyn had confidence in his magic and abilities, Micah was always more reserved with his own powers. He wasn't the prodigy that was Robyn but he never actually had a reason to doubt himself or hold back. He was an excellent witch in his own rights. He needed longer to learn a spell but his execution, once he did, was flawless.

They both weren't like that anymore.

Micah had grown a confidence in himself that included but didn't boil down to his magical abilities. He knew who he was as a person.

Robyn, however, apparently based his confidence almost exclusively on being the talented kid. The prodigy. The potential of what he could be. Micah had noticed that with the loss of his magic, Robyn's confidence and his idea of his own worth staggered immensely. Robyn saw himself the way vain people like Leroi Novell and companions saw him: a "half-a-witch", who through appearance fit in but was an outcast now as he was powerless. And it upset Micah horribly.

"Robyn.", Micah placed his curled-up fingers underneath Robyn's chin and turned Robyn's face, "Hey, look at me. Please."

Robyn only complied reluctantly. He felt like a burden, like a nuisance that has come to test Micah's patience once again. He felt like ever since he lost his magic, he's been abusing Micah's kindness, selfishly coming to steal words of comfort and affirmation out of him. And he felt like ever since they started their romance it had only gotten worse. Looking into Micah's eyes usually had a calming effect. Now, it only caused his lips to quiver again as he felt the guilt wash over him. He was a horrible boyfriend.

Micah's lips quickly brushed against his. He allowed it. He allowed himself to close his eyes and have at least one second of joy and carefreeness, even if he thought he wasn't that deserving of it. When he slowly opened his eyes again, he was met with the soft frown of pity on Micah's pale, freckled face.

"Ye are not a disaster boyfriend. Nor have ye ever left me feeling unloved. Have ye forgotten all the times ye stood up for me?"

He was so kind. He was always so damn kind. Why was he still around? Why didn't he just finally give up on Robyn? Why won't he just give up? Robyn didn't understand it. It made no sense to him that someone so perfect like Micah would settle for someone so broken and flawed like him.

"You mean when we were kids?", he furrowed his brows, "That's ages ago."

Before starting his taunting and bullying on Robyn two years ago, Leroi Novell had picked an insecure little Micah as his target. Not only did he and his yes-boys make fun of Micah's process on learning a spell but they also decided to make fun of his accent. While 17 year old Micah couldn't care less about what left Novell's mouth regarding his magic or accent, 7 year old Micah was more vulnerable. He had his sisters to support him but they couldn't do all too much, since they were some classes above Micah. Robyn constantly came to Micah's aid and put Novell in his place. He never feared the consequences his actions may have. Defending Micah was Robyn's priority - and he'd still do that if push ever came to shove. It wasn't necessary anymore, though. Micah took care of it himself and has been doing so since they're thirteen. Robyn didn't understand what importance his actions ten years ago have now.

"And yet it meant the world to me. You are my hero, do ye know that?", Micah cupped the brunet's face in his palms and smiled adoringly.

"I'm no hero."

"To me ye are."

Those were words Micah always longed to say but never got the chance to. Having finally done so now made him smile wider.

Robyn, in response, stared at Micah with doe-like eyes. He's had his mother tell him about heroes that bravely fought against evil and had their efforts greatly celebrated many times in his boyhood and in childish ideas always hoped to be a hero someday too, rescuing a princess from monsters without fear. Once he reached an age consisting of two digits, that idea vanished by the year. Now he slowly realized he unconsciously did rescue a princess from monsters without fear. Only in a less epic way, without armor and swords and that his princess, was a prince all along. He sniffled and ran his lower arm along his nose, drying his face from the involuntary tears that had run down his cheeks.

Micah made sure Robyn kept facing him and continued: "Robyn, ye're right. I deserve a boyfriend who loves me unconditionally, who's always there when I need him and who makes me feel loved and appreciated. And guess what? That boyfriend is right here in front of me.

I don't need to hear words of affirmation everyday. Aye, it's my way of showin' my affection to ye but ye have yer own way of showin'."

Robyn scoffed.

"And what would that be?"

"Ye show yer affection through physical touch and spendin' as much time as ye can wi' me. And I wouldna have it any other way. I could spend the rest of my life here next to ye. Just holdin' ya."

Micah closed his arms around Robyn's back tightly. He remained like this for a little, simply enjoying the physical closeness.

He felt Robyn's hand hesitantly sneaking along his chest, inching closer to his side. Robyn returned the tight embrace. He clenched the fabric of Micah's shirt in his hands. There almost was a desperation behind it. It was like Robyn enjoyed the thought of being held by Micah for eternity too, and the clenching was a way to beg the Titan or whoever pulls the strings of fate for it to happen.

"Ye also show yer affection anytime ye give me something. All these notes and crafts on the wall, any carving ye made, Lissa - my own palisman! -, anything ye ever gave me... it let's me know ye love me even wi'out ye sayin' it.", Micah pressed a kiss to Robyn's forehead while continuing his tight embrace.

"So you don't think I'm a mess and a disaster of a boyfriend?"

"Nuh-uh."

"And you don't wanna break up with me?"

Micah snorted.

"I'm sorry, but that's the most ridiculous thing I've heard in a while. I love ye, Robyn Clawthorne. More than words of any language could ever describe. Ye are my every dream, and if I were to meet 11 year old me, who just came to acceptance he's into boys, and he asked me who my boyfriend will be one day, I'd say 'the most dreamy, kind, fun, and bonnie boy ever. Wi' soft, fluffy brown locks, breathtakin' teal eyes and the most kissable lips. Most importantly though, he makes me so very happy.'. Ye know what little Micah would reply then?"

"No, what would he say?", Robyn asked quietly. He felt his cheeks warming up over the shower of compliments he just received. Did Micah seriously see all that in him? Did he really make Micah that happy?

"He'd say: 'That's everything and more than I could ever ask for. Never let him go.'. And I never will. So, no, ye're not gettin' rid of me that easily, leannan.", he playfully nuzzled his face into Robyn's hair.

Robyn smiled at that last word. "Leannan". He'd heard it in the Bower household before but never really knew what it meant. He figured it was a term of endearment but he couldn't say what it meant exactly. A few months into their romance Micah had asked if Robyn's fine with being called that, which was also the moment Robyn revealed he had no idea what it meant. At the end of day it simply meant "Dear" or "Darling". And he loved it. For some reason it felt more intimate. It had more weight than it's English counterparts. He hoped Micah will never cease to exchange "Robyn" for "Leannan".

Robyn prepped himself up again. He stared at Micah. He was beyond enamoured with everything about him. Micah said he didn't expect words of affirmation from him but Robyn felt it was long overdue.

"Micah.", he smiled and brushed a strand of hair out of Micah's face. His fingertip tracing the pale skin so featherlightly.

"Mh?"

Robyn whispered the words.

"I love you."

He pressed a kiss on Micah's left cheek.

"I love you."

He repeated louder and kissed Micah's right cheek.

"I love you so very much."

He met Micah's lips this time. Micah combed his fingers through Robyn's hair. When he reached the back of his head, he pulled Robyn's face even closer, deepening the kiss. Robyn softly pulled away after a while. A smile tugged at his lips.

"I'll try to say those words more often. Promised."

Micah gave a chuckle in response. He said he doesn't necessarily need to hear those words to know Robyn loves him but he would lie if he said it didn't feel nice to hear them uttered in Robyn's voice. He brushed the big loose strand of hair out of Robyn's face. It mixed perfectly with the rest of the brown mane and allowed an uninterrupted gaze into Robyn's piercing teal eyes.

"I love-"

"Shht!", Robyn quickly pressed his finger on Micah's lips and forced him to stop his declaration, "You say that enough already."

Robyn looked at Micah sternly. The little smile still tugged at the corners of his mouth. It only grew when he realized Micah was opening his mouth to get his teeth on Robyn's finger and bit it. Robyn exclaimed Micah's name in a scolding tone while pulling his hand away and laughing.

"Well, too bad.", Micah grinned.

Robyn's laughing intensified when he felt Micah's hands gripping his waist and he noticed his weight shifting more towards him. Robyn quickly found himself turned on his back with Micah right above him. Chunks of red curls framed his face as he smirked down on the laughing brunet.

" 'Cause I will keep sayin' "I love ye" and there's nothin' ye can do about it."

"Nothing?", Robyn was finally able to calm his laugh.

"Nothin' at all.", Micah leaned his face closer to Robyn's. He let his lips hover over Robyn's for a little before Robyn cupped his face and pulled it down to close that tiny gap. Over the months kissing Micah had become something he perceived as natural, a given sort of. They had lost their nervous before kisses and the fluttering in his stomach was less intense by now but... not completely gone. There was still this sensation whenever he kissed Micah that his insides felt mushy and upside down. He still felt like the moment their lips met, he loses all weight, gravity vanishes and he's soaring higher and higher the longer they kiss.

Robyn wrapped his arms around Micah's neck, silently begging Micah to not let go. He slowly began realizing...

He's been doubting whether or not he belongs on the Boiling Isles for a while now. But the answer was: yes, he belonged here in the setting sun's light. He belonged here in the safety of Micah's room. He belonged here with Micah's lips around his own, Micah's hands cupping his face, tracing his side, his arm, his thigh. He belonged here loving Micah more and more with every passing second. As witch, as human, as a hybrid of both...

He belonged here with Micah.

Full bonus comic on Patreon ♡

[milkycarnations]

Hear me out Bloody Painter gets jealous and shows reader who they belong to👀

I'm sorry I kind of suck at ideas this is just what I'm thinking

Ooomph, no I quite like this one though. Don't come into my ask box apologizing for Helen asks. Helen is always welcome. Divider cafekitsune.

Let Me Get What I Want | Helen x afab!reader | 896 words

one-shot masterlist | mdni | cw: scarification as a display of devotion, knifeplay, obvious heavy trigger warning for anyone who struggles with self-harm, sadomasochism, minor body worship, he/him pronouns for Helen this time, not super nsfw simply because I don't see Helen as much of a jealous/hate-fuck type of person. I'd been trying for a few weeks but I just wasn't sure where to take it sexually!

Helen sighed. It was a strange sound to fall past his lips - something he'd only hear perhaps when in the throes of pleasure - but today, Helen sighed just from the thought of you. It wasn't like craving you was bizarre, far from it. Helen thought about you all of the time. Hour after hour, day by day, months on months, you plagued Helen's thoughts. He couldn't help but think what a sweet, little plague you were - working your way in and taking him over. You consumed him.

So today, just like most days, Helen cleaned the hairs of his paintbrushes by the workroom sink, the colors bleeding out into a muddy brown mess. As he worked the bristles against the cloth towel, he envisioned the appearance of your flesh. He thought about your hair follicles and the pores on your skin. Helen thought, was it really possible to adore someone so much - right down to the cracks on their heels and the blemishes on their cheeks? Why did that have to be such an unwelcome concept?

Under Helen's firm touch, the paintbrush frayed and shed strands of horsehair. His pale and slender hands paused in place.

No, it was far more than a sigh. Helen was terribly jealous. The paintbrush fell from his hand with a clank. Twisting his torso, he glanced back at his recent portrait. There was a fiery warmth in Helen's face as he looked at it. You were such a radiant thing. The fact that you hadn't sent so much as a glance his way this evening was maddening.

He was now staring down the painting, observing the contours of your body and the light bruise he'd put on your breast, simply a smear of pigment. He needed assurance - reassurance that you were his. So later that night, he prophesized an idea.

"Are you familiar with scarification?" he'd ask randomly, suddenly as you lazed against the couch - draped against it like a Greek statue. Whether you knew of it or not wasn't exactly of importance. Rather, all Helen cared about was whether or not you agreed.

"Etching, branding, scaring," they continued, "that sort of thing. It's beautiful, isn't it?"

You thought about it deeply - for the first time in perhaps, ever. Scarification.

He added, "Do you think, maybe, I could do that to you. Etch my art into your skin."

"I'd have to think about it." you'd respond. Scarification, like a tattoo, but a different flavor of commitment. If the scaring took well, it'd be a part of you forever. You had no doubt that whatever Helen had in store would be exquisite, but it still was a lot to take in.

Helen wouldn't bring it up for another few weeks at least, letting it fester and stew in your mind as you went about your work and daily tasks. It nagged in the back of your mind for quite a while. You asked Helen for a mockup.

"Could I just see what you were thinking?" you'd ask, imagining the stencils tattoo artists would place upon their clients. Maybe - if you just saw what he had in mind - it'd be easier to agree. So that evening, as you laid spread over the mattress, Helen free-handed over your hip, penciling in intricate designs around the curves of your body in washable marker. After he'd finished, you stood in front of the full-length mirror in your bedroom with an intent curiosity.

"It looks... beautiful."

Even through simple lines, Helen's artistry shined through. They'd captured everything about you, the shapes complimenting your body wonderfully at the same time - trailing from your side, down the swell of your hip and stopping just above your knee.

"I'd be honored if you accepted." he added. His excitement was evident in the subtle shifting of his feet, his hands subconsciously smoothing out the fabric of his button-up.

When the moment finally came, you laid against the table awkwardly, feeling a bit more uncomfortable than usual. Once more, Helen had stenciled a design into your skin - this time with a more permanent marker.

"It's okay if you want a break. Just tell me." Helen said, pulling a sharp exacto-knife from a rolling cart. You took in a deep breath as you anticipated the pain. You'd already taken some pain meds, just to ease your mind, but you knew it'd still hurt tremendously. That initial breath turned shaky as the blade made contact with your skin. It was a sharp, biting pain - but it wasn't anything you hadn't felt before with Helen. There were already quite a few scars on your back. You let Helen take his time as he carved out chunks of skin to make the most beautiful mural.

"Does it hurt, dove?" the words came soft - a loving message of reassurance. You nodded your head. It did.

"It's almost finished, my love. Don't worry." he added, pushing the blade just over your hip bone.

He took great care of it once he'd finished - cleaning the wounds, bandaging it well, and placing sweet, gentle kisses over your body. He was ecstatic. It was taking quite a while to heal, but he was psyched to paint you with the new addition. You were his muse - the thing he'd loved to paint and draw the most, and now you'd carry his art on your skin for the rest of your life.