#verse ; Alive and Kicking

[hughesxmaes]

🧠 + you love Roy and want to tell him exactly how you feel

Send Hughes 🧠 + an intrusive thought and he will react.

He was thinking about Roy again, and of course the first thing in his mind is how much he loved and cared for him. He wanted to tell him his feelings, but he had no idea how and he feels himself blush when he thinks about it.

"...I do want to.. I just don't know how he's going to react. Will he... reject me? Will he be surprised? Will he return my feelings? I just.. I don't know.. I'm nervous."

[arcxnumvitae]

@soulsxng I was getting ready for bed but of course I had to stop to answer this very pertinent question.

…*cough*

[fishermcn]

Knight-Captain Renauld was a veteran of the Shattering and one of the few Redmanes to have survived the Bloom of Aeonia, where Malenia the Severed unleashed the Scarlet Rot upon Starscourge Radahn and all the Caelid Wilds. In the days following the fallout it was his leadership that rallied the broken forces of Radahn's army, organizing the Redmanes and leading the first of many fiery purges as countless wriggling horrors began pulling themselves from the now befouled earth.

It wasn't until the lashing winds in the Bloom's wake no longer raged and the miasma of rot finally settled down to fester Caelid properly that a proper record could be taken of their losses... and of their enemies. When Renauld realized that only Radahn remained upon that accursed battlefield, his rage was immense, and upon his oath and that of a dozen other knights they launched a crusade to hunt down Malenia and finish what their now stricken and broken lord could not.

So it was that these knights thirteen scorched their crests in the manner that all other Redmanes would follow, and with their castle left in old Jerren's hands they hunted the wayward demigod. Across pillaged Limgrave and forsaken Liurnia they followed the wake of hated Finlay, loyal to the last, and through war-bitten Atlus Plateau did their march tread upon, and the horrors and terrors they confronted with bared steel and fiery resolve in the wake of the war to end all wars, who could say? For their tales have been lost to the waning of that most broken age, and of those vengeful thirteen only one of their number ever returned to blighted Caelid.

Rumors say that Renauld had dared to tread a measure in blasphemy itself, to scale those bitter peaks where the fire giants once echoed their own fiery fury across the mountaintops in Finlay's wake. Amongst the men-at-arms and knights is claimed that in those furious snowfields Renauld met his match, a duel at long last with Finlay staining the powdery white crimson with his blood and an eye taken for the cost of his oath unavenged... and some would whisper that he survived only from the intervention of a spirit, and the gracelessness in the eyes of the boy that returned home with him is proof of it.

In the days since his return, Renauld Whist has taken command of the remaining Redmane forces scattered across all of Caelid, and even now leads sorties against the corruption that has choked the heart of his homeland.

[bitterrobin]

The Kane Family (hc)

Making things complicated for myself: pt 3, for the Flamebird AU.

In order to properly explain/get through Bette's backstory and add context to Kathy Kane, I need to actually detail my headcanon version of the Kane family (which includes canon too bc why not). To me, the Kanes are like the Kennedy family if they were from New Jersey, Jewish and just about as many in-family deaths that happen maybe a bit too fast after the other. Also, they absolutely suck at maintaining their image and finances.

Read below to get a glimpse into the overly-detailed thought I've put into something that will only really connect to maybe like, 2 flashbacks.

(Putting a cut to save your dashboards.)

First things first; the patriarch and matriarch.

Roderick and Elizabeth Kane. Canon names. Not so canon history.

Roderick had an older brother named Mordecai (non-canon) who was dating a wealthy young lady named Elizabeth Miriam Ritter, who is from a notable German Jewish family that's very conservative.

Elizabeth got pregnant out of wedlock, immediately putting her out of favor with both the elder Kanes and her own family. She was going to marry Mordecai out of genuine love, but then uh...he died young at 28.

Because the Kanes had already announced the engagement but hadn't specified which Kane brother she was going to marry, they harassed and forced Elizabeth to marry Roderick instead in order to save face with the public.

While neither are particularly pleased, they go through with it.

Really all you need to know is that this forced marriage completely soured both of their outlooks on life, and the strained marriage that followed very much affected their children and grandchildren.

Roderick is emotionally constipated, quiet, and the exact opposite of affectionate. Still, he allows his children some freedoms that Elizabeth vocally dislikes.

Roderick used to be an engineer, not a businessman (that was his brother's claim to fame) so when he's forced to run Kane Chemicals - he completely botches it.

Later on, he's blackmailed into debt by a mobster named Judson Pierce, which leads to the bankrupt of the company and Roderick has a stroke that leaves him utterly paralyzed. (this is canon).

Despite one of his son's efforts to recover the company, they're forced to sell the business to ACE - thus creating Ace Chemicals. (also canon-ish)

Elizabeth, on the other hand, is a mother who is very overprotective and too involved in her kid's lives. She's not a great grandmother.

She's very religious compared to Roderick, which sows conflict between her and her children, as they are variously devoted to Judaism.

Dislikes all of her grandchildren bc they are all born of non-Jewish marriages out of wedlock or just out of a marriage that's not beneficial to the Kane name. Did not take in Bruce bc he's a Wayne, did not take in Bette bc she's born of a heavy scandal, and has no relationship with the twins bc Jacob purposefully kept them from her.

Not abusive, but overbearing and disapproving in that stiff, "will pinch you harshly if you're misbehaving" and be uncharacteristically affectionate in public when you do something "good" way.

Then, there's the Kane siblings, each known by the public whether its good or bad publicity. The number of siblings is not canon, but I need a way to explain how some of these people exist in canon along with Martha and Jacob, especially with the number of children they have.

Nathan Eli Kane (canon)

the oldest

Mordecai's biological son, but no one ever told him this.

Smothered by his mother and neglected by his father.

Protective of his siblings, especially fond of Martha.

Prepared since birth to be the Kane heir and an exceptional son.

Stifled by this, which explains why he dates and eventually marries the daredevil and unladylike Katherine "Kathy" Webb.

Fun fact, he canonically bought an entire circus for her.

He was formerly a Gotham City Councilman before he basically quit and fucked off to elope with Kathy as an act of rebellion when Martha was disowned.

They moved out of Gotham for the rest of their marriage.

He died of a heart attack at around 42 (out of stress/heartbreak not too long after Martha's death) - leaving Kathy Kane a widow. Canonically, he's around 47 when he dies, but it seems too old for the timeline I'm working with.

Never had children.

Philip Walton Kane (canon)

second eldest (2 yrs younger than Nathan)

a perpetual bachelor.

Doted on by his father, the most spoiled and objectively annoying of the siblings. Was one-sidedly jealous of Nathan.

Allowed to study and do whatever he wanted bc Nathan was supposed to run the company and his other siblings were too young to object.

As a teen, he became disillusioned with Gotham and moved out of the state. He almost renounced the family name when Martha was disowned, but decided against it bc he's still a daddy's boy.

Canonically studied to be geologist before being brought back by Roderick to run the company. (before the stroke).

Philip sucks ass at running the company and is partially the reason why his father gets blackmailed by the mob.

Took over Wayne Enterprises after Thomas and Martha were killed bc Bruce was too young. Canonically made business decisions that Bruce hated.

Died at 51 after being shot by the Joker (back when he was the Red Hood.) (also canon)

Never got married or had children.

Jacob Asher Kane (canon)

the middle child. 1 yr younger than Philip.

While Nathan and Philip always argued, adding to the strife of parents that did not love each other, Jacob never involved himself in any arguments.

He refused to be shoved into any kind of limelight, so he's not as famous as his siblings. He also kept to himself most of time, so no scandals either.

The second he graduated high school, he joined the army half out of a sense of duty, half to escape his family.

While in training, he met Gabrielle "Gabi" Hunter and they began to date.

Indifferent to his older brothers, but he doted on Martha, who was his favorite sibling. Simon was too young for them to bond.

The father of Kate and Beth Kane.

Named them after his mother bc of tradition and begrudged affection, never calls them their full names out of spite.

Martha Romi Kane (very canon)

middle child, the only daughter of the family. 3 yrs younger than Jacob.

Spoiled and doted on by all of her siblings, the most famous Kane child out of the good deeds she did and the scandals she was involved in.

the "wild child", I hc her as being just as weird and neurodivergent-coded as Bruce. She was incredibly interested in medicine, funerary practices, insects, self-defense, business, politics and many other "unlady-like" things of her time.

Despite her mother's efforts, Martha was never the picture-perfect daughter. She regularly skipped social events with Jacob and actively sabotaged public figures she disliked.

Fun fact, she was canonically nicknamed Marty in some stories.

The most philanthropic of her siblings, she regularly created and donated to various Gotham charities, volunteered, and was often seen disguised in the poorer parts of the city in order to help.

The biggest scandal of the city was when she started dating Thomas Wayne.

The Waynes had an eternal reputation as the name of womanizing, debaucherous men and scandalous, rude women. Both Roderick and Elizabeth were vehemently against Martha's relationship with Thomas. Not completely unjustified as Thomas had a reputation for being a womanizer and an alcoholic before he met Martha, despite his renown skill as a doctor.

Adding to the scandal, the Waynes were very Catholic.

Roderick actually liked Thomas, he just didn't want him to marry his daughter. Elizabeth absolutely hated Thomas and thought he was the evil of all evils.

When Martha threatened to elope, Elizabeth decided to disown her instead. Her siblings never forgave this.

By the time she was murdered, Nathan was in self-exile and both Philip and Jacob were out of state. Philip took legal guardianship of Bruce for a week before Alfred Pennyworth took over bc Philip just isn't a fatherly type.

Simon Mordecai Kane (non-canon)

the youngest Kane. 4 yrs younger than Martha.

Too young to bond with any of his siblings, but he actually loved his parents deeply.

He followed Martha around at a young age, idolizing her tough spirit and confidence.

He was separated from his siblings before they could really get to know him, as he was sent to a boarding school.

When he was 19, he had Bette by accident when he got the daughter of a businessman pregnant. She sent Bette to him as an infant to raise.

Bette's full name, Mary Elizabeth, is completely in loving reference to her grandmother.

At Gotham University, he studied architecture and contributed to Gotham's skyline and various other buildings later on. Bette was always with him in lectures and in his office.

A closeted and heavily repressed homosexual, he never married - which his mother resented.

As a young adult, he was well-adjusted and was a loving parent to Bette. He re-kindled a sibling relationship with Martha and a friendship with Kathy Webb-Kane, becoming close to both women.

He had a dangerous romance with the scion of an old, wealthy assassin organization - which may or may not have contributed to his death.

At 28, he died in a particularly fire-filled car crash on the Kane bridge. Bette was with him, but she wasn't mortally injured as he managed to get her out of the car before it exploded. (She was 9 years old.) By this time, Bruce was already 26 and Kate was 25.

As per his will, Kathy Webb-Kane adopted Bette and raised her up until she was 15.

That finishes it. If anyone has any Kane family headcanons or comic references that might change this, pls tag/comment!

A good majority of this will not make it into the fic as text, but there will be references.

[lifesver]

leland dawn au special to me bc: kids happy. but also bc for the amount of rough verses i put him through and how even his literal 'most canon' trajectory is still sad and lonely, he gets to Actually heal in this one. did he have to take an extra year of cruelty in that house? yeah (sorry buddy). maybe he escaped or maybe he was set free but either way he was still young when he was able to confront that trauma and heal from it. not twenty yrs later but just one. and he still gets to have his friends in his life. ('': like he gets to Have a life

[worthyheir]

❛ maybe you’re already dead. ❜

MEMES

Those words still his blood - perhaps he is, or he seems to be. There has been little life in his eyes, he's noticed, any time he's caught a reflection of himself. He is trying, though probably not with much heart. His nights are often sleepless, and he finds his mind reliving the past year more than he finds himself resting. The little sleep he does get doesn't provide him much energy, and while he is healing at a pretty normal rate, he is angry about being stuck in the North, cut off from both his family and the war, and the little information he does get sent is vague or incomplete.

The only news he has gotten in weeks is that his mother has taken King's Landing: he assumed she would request him to return, but so far, she seems content to leave him in the North. A punishment, it seems, and one he does deserve. Jacaerys had disobeyed his Queen, and nearly died for it, and still failed in his mission.

Cregan has been as gracious a host as he was the first time Jace had arrived North, atop a dragon and only his word that he was not there as a threat. This time, he had arrived on a horse, injuries bound tightly, a long journey, especially considering his dragon still lived: Vermax was recovering as well, still on the cliffs of Dragonstone, if Baela's letters, few as his mother's, were to be believed. Isolated. Melancholy followed after him as closely as his own shadow, footprints in the snow that he found far more unbearable this time around.

"It feels that way." Or that it should be that way, more-so. While he is recovering, the physical injuries cut him far less than the knowledge that he has lost three siblings in less than a year, that his mother was losing the war, and might still be. Taking King's Landing is one thing - how are they going to hold it? There is an exhale, a long breath taken in, and while he does understand Cregan's point, he does not know how to change it. "Apologies, My Lord. I would say it is the war that has changed me, but I do not think that is wholly to blame."

He has made several good, strong decisions in this war - the alliances he has forged for his mother, the dragonseeds (though he has since two have defected to fight for the Usurper, given his mother reneging on the promises he had made to them when they claimed their dragons). Only for him to be judged on the one poor choice he made, and he might regret failing, but he did not regret trying. "Have you any suggestions for navigating grief? I have been doing nothing but trying for nigh a year now, and when I could focus on the war effort, it was easier. A distraction, most of the time. Now? There are no distractions here, unless you count the biting cold."

[malikselfindulgence]

Nareena sees Sokar sometime in the future again . Sokar has longer hair, no older sisters to shave it down. She's wearing a pretty dress with scratches and tears, she's holding a pot of sunflowers, there's steaming tea in a ceramic cup she made herself on the counter, there's colors messily smeared across her eyelids and lips. Worst of all, Sokar's smiling, happy and healthy. This makes Nareena feel an insane burst of conflicting emotions that she immediately tries to kill Sokar without saying a word

[witchnordemon]

Collector paid no mind to Golden Guard's strange noise (another mortal thing, maybe?), but he absolutely frowned at his very similar thought process - that things had changed while Collector had been trapped... a lot. ❝ But that doesn't- it's not- I don't- ❞ He huffed, pouting and pulling on his sleeves as he crossed his arms, ❝ that's what I was thinkin', but that's not possible - Philip doesn't- he wouldn't... just not tell me about the sky changing, or the water changing, or the everything changing! ❞ By this point, his shadowed form had shifted from seated in front of Golden Guard, to traveling aimlessly up and down the walls; almost like he was pacing. ❝ Maybe it's been a long time. Like, so long, and things are... different. B-but, whatever happened, it happened after Philip got here! ❞ They rambled aloud, almost entirely just to reassure themself, about to posit the question to Golden Guard about when these huge changes occurred... when the Grimwalker in front of them (foolishly) doubted their extremely true and totally unbiased claims.

Oh. No way. They hovered above Golden Guard, a pout scowl evident on their face, they drew in a fake breath for effect, and... ❝ Nnnnoooooohhhh you don't get itttt! You've never seen one! ❞ They whined exclaimed, crossing their arms and traveling the floors and walls surrounding the two as they spoke, in spiral patterns; up and down and around. ❝ They don't die! They really don't! They're not like other Isles creatures! They're so powerful, almost as powerful as Collectors - it's why my siblings sent me to come play, they'd make good friends 'cause they're more like us than the other critters here! ❞ He turned to face the Grimwalker from where he was positioned, his shadowed form projecting forth from his disc to the very back wall of the room. ❝ They become all bones, but they're still in there. They're aware of what goes on around them! They're... their, uh, their- ❞ He paused, thumping the center of his chest soundlessly, ❝ that still works! They're different! ❞

Valor made a noise that betrayed his lack of certainty over the Collector's guess. ". . . Would it really be that far? You can't move in the disc, right? And you'd know if someone took you somewhere else? Maybe it's just . . . Maybe things just changed a lot. I mean, like I said when we first met, Lord Belos once sent me back to slay a bunch of stonesleepers when we found a time pool. I've been to the Hecktaceous Period before and that was a lot different than what either of us know and it was between both of our times. Maybe . . . Maybe the Sparkling Sea is the Boiling Sea, just . . . before it started boiling."

Valor sucked in a breath, the wince clear on his face. What the Collector was talking about sounded a lot like death and decomposition, and death didn't seem to be a thing they really knew much about. Definitely not extinction, at least. He'd already had to explain that to them.

Did he really want to tell them, though?

. . . It was important knowledge. None of his teachers ever cared about his feelings when they imparted knowledge, so he shouldn't let that stop him from informing the Collector.

"Collector . . . I'm pretty sure that's what death is. Getting too old to function and just . . . lying down and no longer moving, no longer breathing? Just being incredibly still? And then decomposing until they're only bones? That sounds exactly like dying, Collector."

[greengoblinswifey]

Or Nah— Nicholas Chavez x Fem!Reader

summary— you meet nicholas at the club and he invites you back to his place where he fucks you on every surface. based on this request.

warnings— rough smut, grinding, voyeurism, fingering, choking, oral(m&f receiving), praise kink, lots of dirty talk, unprotected sex, ass slapping, hair pulling, overstimulation, creampie, aftercare.

word count— 4.8k

a/n— i really enjoyed writing this one🤭reblogs are appreciated <3

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿

The club was alive with energy as the bass of the music pulsed through your body, vibrating in your chest. You leaned against the bar, swirling your vodka martini in your hand, enjoying the tangy taste and the vibrant atmosphere. Your homegirls were off somewhere dancing, surrounded by guys, lost in their own world. But you? You were fine with being on your own, letting the music take over and just vibing.

Then, the intro to “Or Nah” started playing. You squealed, feeling the excitement rush through you. “This is my song!” you shouted, laughing, and within seconds, the entire crowd, including your friends, moved toward the dance floor. You took one last sip of your martini before strutting toward the crowd, hips swaying with the beat, your body flowing effortlessly to the rhythm of the song.

Your homegirls were hyping you up, shouting, “Yes, bitch!” as you danced, your hands running over your body, your skin glowing under the club lights. You felt unstoppable, confident in your own skin, the music making everything feel like it was just you, the beat, and the crowd.

Then, you felt it. A presence. A tall, muscular figure behind you. You didn’t need to look to know he was fine—his energy was undeniable. He leaned down toward your ear, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down your spine. “Can I dance with you, beautiful?”

A sly smile spreading across your face. “Of course,” you replied, your voice playful but full of confidence.

The mystery man placed his hands on your waist, his fingers warm against your skin, and you felt an immediate connection. His touch was firm but not aggressive, and as he pulled you closer, the two of you swayed in sync with the music. You could feel his body against yours, his chest broad and firm, his movements smooth as he mirrored your rhythm.

Your favorite part kicked in, “Do you like the way I flick my tongue or nah? (Or nah) You can ride my face until you're drippin' cum (Drippin' cum),” and you couldn’t help but get into it even more, your hips moving fluidly, grinding against him as he matched every shift. His hands slid from your waist to your hips, the contact sparking something between you that made your heart race.

“Damn, you’re fucking hot,” he whispered against your ear, his breath against your skin, sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t suppress the small, breathy laugh that escaped your lips, feeling the tension build between you both.

You turned in his arms to face him, locking eyes, and he smirked. “Hey, I’m Nicholas,” he said, his smile playful yet sincere.

You raised an eyebrow, recognizing him instantly, but you kept your cool. “I’m Y/N and I know who you are,” you replied with a confident smirk, giving him an unamused but impressed look that made him laugh.

“God, you’re fucking gorgeous,” he said, his voice filled with admiration, and for a second, you saw a hint of something in his eyes—desire, maybe?

“Thanks,” you replied, your tone teasing, “I know.” You leaned in closer, just enough for him to hear, your lips brushing his ear as you whispered, “You’re fine as hell.”

He chuckled, his cheeks slightly flushed, and for the first time, you saw him flustered. You pulled him closer, your bodies pressed against each other as you danced, the music setting the tone for the moment. As the next verse played, “You gon’ make me fall in love,” you could feel his hands sliding lower, his touch almost possessive, but still respectful, his fingertips skimming the curve of your waist and hips.

The music slowed a bit, snapping you both out of your trance. He gave you one last look, his lips curving into a smile. “Can I buy you a drink?”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a playful grin. “Only if you’re covering the tab for me and my girls.”

He laughed, nodding. “You got it.”

You moved with him toward the bar, his hand guiding you, and your homegirls flashing you a wink as you passed by. As he paid the tab, you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger on him. His muscles were even more defined up close, his shirt hugging his broad shoulders, and the gleam of his Rolex catching the light made you realize this man wasn’t just good-looking, he was cashy, too. You caught him staring at you, his eyes roaming over your dark skin, glowing in the club’s lights, and the black liner around your lips that contrasted beautifully with your glossy lipgloss.

Nicholas’ voice pulled you from your thoughts. “I don’t usually pick women up at clubs,” he said, a little hesitant, “but you’ve caught my eye from the moment you walked in. You’re gorgeous.”

You felt your heart race at his words, but you kept your composure. “Thanks,” you replied, your eyes narrowing playfully, “I know.”

There was a moment of silence as he watched you, his eyes dark with interest. Then, he cleared his throat. “Would you like to come back to my place with me?” he asked, his tone serious but laced with the kind of quiet confidence that sent your pulse skyrocketing.

You gave him a slow, seductive look, letting your eyes linger on his lips before meeting his gaze again. “Sure,” you said, your voice low, sending a little shiver of excitement through him. He coughed lightly, clearly trying to hide the effect you were having on him.

You turned to your friends, who were already squealing. “I’m gonna leave with his fine ass,” you said, and they erupted into laughter, shouting playful encouragements. “Go get that dick, girl! Have fun, but call us if nothin’ happens!” one of them called out.

Nicholas placed his hand on your waist as he led you through the crowd. People parted for him as you both made your way outside, and when you reached the curb, a sleek black car with a driver waiting was parked. Nicholas opened the door for you, and you slipped into the back, the cool leather seat against your skin.

The moment you were inside, the air between you thickened. You both sat there for a moment, staring at each other, the tension almost unbearable. Then, without warning, you were on him, your lips crashing together as you kissed him passionately, the heat between you building with every second. His hands moved to your back, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened, his lips demanding as yours responded with equal hunger.

He moaned softly into your lips as you pulled yourself to straddle him, your mini skirt riding up as you sat on his bulge. There was nothing separating you but your g-string and his pants, you could feel how hard he was and how he twitched in excitement.

You could feel the warmth of his chest beneath you, the firm muscles beneath his shirt. His hands slid down your sides, resting on your waist before shifting lower, resting just on the curve of your hips.

The car was moving through the city, the sound of the engine humming beneath the occasional soft moan that slipped from your lips. But neither of you cared that the driver was up front, minding his own business. The only thing that mattered was the way your bodies were responding to one another.

Nicholas leaned back, eyes locked on you as you shifted, grinding ever so slightly against him. His voice was low, almost a whisper as he pulled you in again, kissing you hungrily. “You’re fucking unreal,” he muttered against your lips, his hands running up your back, sending chills down your spine.

You could feel his heartbeat racing beneath his chest, and the way his body tensed when your hands traced down to his abdomen, feeling the hard ridges of his muscles through the fabric.

Nicholas paused, his hands gently cupping your face as he took a breath, his forehead resting against yours. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice husky, unsure but wanting. The moment was everything, and you could feel how much he wanted you, but still, he you needed to be certain.

Without hesitation, you gave him a mischievous smile, “Yes,” you whispered back, leaning in to kiss him once more.

He groaned into the kiss, a sound that sent a ripple of excitement through you. Slowly, his hands slid down to your waist, tugging at the hem of your denim mini skirt, pushing it up just slightly.

He looked at you, waiting, his voice softer this time. “Can I touch you?”

You locked eyes with him, a smirk tugging at the corner of your lips as you moved his hand to your waist. “Please do,” you murmured.

At your approval, he shifted your underwear and slowly rubbed your clit. “God, you’re so wet, how the fuck can someone be this wet?” he asked softly.

You chuckled, bucking your hips into his hand, “Guess I’m just really turned on by you and knowing someone else is aware of what you’re doing to me.”

In response, he slipped a finger inside you, curling it as another rubbed your clit. The pleasure hit you like a truck and you involuntarily let out a loud whimper.

But then, you heard a soft cough from the front seat—the driver had cleared his throat, perhaps more out of politeness than anything else. Nicholas chuckled lightly against your neck, his lips brushing your skin and rubbing your clit as you both laughed breathlessly at the situation.

“Just pay attention to me baby, feel how good my fingers make you feel,” he whispered.

You moaned in response, completely at his mercy as he finger fucked you while his driver drove you back to his place.

The car jolted slightly as it made a turn, the shift in motion causing a small sound to escape your lips. Nicholas' other hand moved around your neck, his touch deliberate as he slipped another finger inside your wet pussy, feeling the warmth inside you.

You were trying to keep your composure, but the way he touched you was like nothing else, and you could feel your body responding, your heart racing as his fingers moved faster.

He pulled back slightly, looking at you with a smirk on his lips. “You’re gonna cum already beautiful?” he whispered. “Are you that turned on I’m fingering you in the back of my car while my driver is in the front? Fuck, you’re everything I could ever want.”

You grinned back at him and nodded, feeling that sense of power, knowing how much he wanted you. He leaned forward, kissing you as his fingers worked inside you, the squelching noises your pussy made mixing with the sound of the engine.

“Holy shit, you’re soaking my fingers baby. Cum for me, be my good girl and cum all over my fingers,” he demanded, his words sending a shiver down your spine.

Grabbing his biceps, you did your best to contain your moans but your efforts proved futile as you came all over his fingers, your body convulsing on top of him.

“Good girl, you made me so proud baby, so obedient,” he muttered, kissing your neck.

He brought his fingers to his lips, sucking them off and moaning around them. “Fuck, everything about you is perfect, even the way you taste.”

“And I wanna see if you taste as good as you look,” you smirked.

The car finally pulled up to Nicholas’ mansion, the gates creaking open as the vehicle glided through. You couldn’t help but admire the sprawling estate, the lights from the driveway glimmering against the night sky.

His driver opened the door for you, and you both exchanged an awkward smile. Nicholas fumbled with the keys to the mansion, clearly eager to get inside and you leaned over, brushing your lips against his neck, sending a shiver through him. His eyes darkened with desire as you made a teasing move, running your hand along the outline of his bulge, making him moan softly.

Once inside, he wasted no time, pushing you against the door with a heated kiss. His hands were everywhere, as though he couldn’t get enough of you. You returned the kiss with the same intensity, then pushed him back against the door.

Your warm hands glided down his chest before you slowly slid to your knees in front of him. His breath hitched as you looked up at him, eyes filled with lust. He froze for a moment, staring down at you with wide eyes.

“Are you sure?” he asked, his voice hushed, unsure but clearly wanting this as much as you did.

You nodded, not caring about the cold marble beneath you. All that mattered was the moment, the confidence that ran through your veins when you were close to him. You reached for his belt, loosening it with practiced ease, and slowly slid his pants down, revealing his hard cock.

He gasped, his gaze locked on you, as he stepped out of his pants. You could feel his eyes on you as your fingers brushed over him in all his glory, and his breath caught when you made contact. He was hard, long and full of girth, feeling weighty in your hand. The tip was pretty, pink and leaking, pre cum oozing and slowly dripping down his shaft. As you looked up at him through your lashes, you could tell by the look in his eyes how badly he wanted this, and that only made you want him more.

Slowly, you wrapped your hand around his cock, pumping it so he could feel everything.

“Your hands are so soft,” he whispered, and you smirked up at him, feeling a thrill run through you.

You didn’t need to say anything in response. Instead, you closed the space between you, trailing your lips along the side of his cock, before meeting his eyes one more time. His chest was rising and falling with every breath he took, and you could tell he was trying to hold back from losing control.

“You look so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Everything about you is perfect.”

As you took him into your mouth, each motion drew out quiet sounds from him. You took him deeper and deeper, swirling your tongue as you did and using your hands to rub his bare thighs then to caress his balls.

“Holy shit, you’re amazing,” he said, breathily.

His praises made your pussy throb and you started deep throating him, making sure to use as much tongue as you could to make it sloppy just the way you presumed he’d like it. You couldn’t have Nicholas Chavez saying you gave bad head.

“Oh fuck baby, if you keep taking me like that m’ gonna cum, you’re so good at this.”

You moaned around his cock, then took it out of your mouth to spit on it. Sticking your tongue out, you looked up at him as you slapped his cock against it and he moaned in response, his head tipping back.

He gently placed a hand on your head and you took him back into your throat, bobbing your head as your salvia and his pre cum dripped down your chin. You were a sight for sore eyes and he was ready to see you swallow his cum.

“H-holy fucking shit baby, I’m gonna cum down that throat,” he moaned, his voice breaking.

You took him as deep as you could, then gliding your mouth and your tongue across his shaft as you felt his warm cum shoot down your throat. You swallowed every drop, his cum better than any martini you drank that night.

“You’re so fucking hot, let me eat your pussy on my kitchen counter,” he panted.

You were down for anything and you allowed him to take your hand, leading you to the large kitchen with a marble island in the middle. He lifted you up with ease, pulling down your clothes and then your top over your head. You took the opportunity to kick off your heels.

“Fucking stunning,” he whispered, kissing your abdomen.

He continued, trailing kisses until he reached your clit, spreading your legs and kissing further and further.

“You’re soaked baby, so fucking wet for me,” he murmured, using his tongue to collect your wetness and spitting it back onto your pussy.

A soft moan escaped your lips, the feeling of his warm mouth on your pussy a stark contrast to your bare ass against the cool marble. You couldn’t believe he was letting you defile his beautiful kitchen like this.

“Your moans are so sweet baby, you like the way I flick my tongue?” he laughed and you chuckled as he quoted the lyrics from earlier.

He dived in, flicking his tongue on your clit before bringing it down to your leaking hole and licking back up. His grip was firm on your thighs, spreading them wide as he continued. You couldn’t believe the utter pleasure you were feeling, he was so skilled with his tongue having you squirm underneath him and moan so loudly, you feared his neighbors would hear.

“Fuck, you make me feel so good,” you cried. grabbing his hair.

“Mm— I aim to please,” he muttered into your pussy.

His tongue was practically inside you, tonguing you and moving back up to suck on your clit. As his movements grew, the coil in your abdomen grew tighter, ready to burst.

“Cum on my tongue beautiful, I need to swallow every drop.” A loud gasp left your lips and your body lifted from the surface, as he practically took your soul and you squirted onto his face, soaking him. He slurped you up like you were his last meal—ironic considering you were in his kitchen and you squirmed under his touch, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum, holy fuck, you taste amazing,” he panted.

You pulled him up into a kiss, his face mouth soaked in your juices. His head moved down to your full breasts, suckling and moaning as your fingers tangled in his hair then he pulled back to rip off his shirt.

Nicholas’ body was everything you’d expect. As he took off his shirt, his broad shoulders and chest came into view, perfectly sculpted with a defined, chiseled look. His biceps bulged with each movement, showing the results of countless hours lifting. His abs were sharply outlined, a series of well-formed ridges that tapered down to his waist, making his physique look even more impressive. His skin glistened in the light, showcasing the muscles that seemed to flex with every breath he took. The veins running down his arms and across his chest hinted at the strength and power he held, adding to his overall imposing yet enticing presence. Everything about him was carved to perfection. You needed this man, and you needed him now. You needed him to take you on every surface in his house and you weren’t afraid to admit it.

“I need you to fuck me all over your house, starting right here, God, you are so hot,” you breathed in awe.

He grinned, he loved the sound of that and he loved a woman that knew what she wanted.

Swiftly, he sank into you, but halted, allowing your tight pussy to adjust to his size.

“Shit,” you moaned, as he took your breath away, “you’re so fucking big.”

“I know baby, it’s okay, I’ll go easy on you,” he whispered, reaching down to rub your clit to ease the tension.

“Easy on me? Nah, I want that dick fucking me hard,” you retorted.

“Fucking hell Y/N, you’re my dream woman,” he gasped.

Your wish was his command as he slammed into you, burying his cock to the hilt. Your moans filled the kitchen as he began moving with a pace that had your toes curling and your acrylics digging into his muscular back.

“Oh my God, Nick,” you moaned.

“I know baby, I’m the one making you feel this good, no other man can be this deep inside you,” he murmured.

You nodded breathlessly, with the way he was pounding into you, your pussy was sure to remember the shape of his cock. You could feel him deep inside your cervix and as you looked down, you saw the faint outline of his cock moving inside you. His large hand snaked around your neck as your foreheads touched, small trickles of sweat mingling. He worked his hips into you, your mouth in an ‘O’ as you breathlessly moaned with him slamming into you.

“You feel fucking amazing, best pussy I’ve ever had,” he panted.

You cried out in response and he pulled out his cock, slapping the heavy tip on your clit making you jolt. As soon as it made contact with your clit, you squirted, your juices spurting all over his cock and abdomen.

“That’s it, squirt all over me baby,” he smirked, still slapping himself against you.

He reached down, sucking and slurping as your pussy quivered under his touch.

All you could do was moan in response, this man was incredible. There was no way you would let another woman have him after tonight.

“Fuck me on your couch next,” you demanded, boldly.

He paused with a smirk on his face and for a minute, you thought he would reject the offer, not wanting to defile his very expensive white sofa sitting in his living room. The same one his family probably sat on when they came to visit.

You were snapped out of your thoughts as he scooped you up by your ass, making you wrap your legs around him. He carried you effortlessly to the couch, flipping you into your stomach. His large hand came down on your ass and you squealed, taking it as a signal to arch your back.

“Exactly what I want baby, it’s like you were made for me, fuck,” he praised.

You truly believed he was made for you too.

He sank into you from behind, slapping your ass as he did.

“Oh my God,” he moaned, leaning down to kiss your back, “you should see how good you look fucking gripping my dick.”

His hips snapped against your ass, pounding you as you did your best to fuck him back.

“Oh? That’s what we’re doing? My girl’s fucking me back? Alright, I can work with that,” he panted, speeding up his pace.

Hearing him call you his girl made something awaken in you. You whimpered loudly and did your best to please him, slamming your ass back against him, his cock brushing that sweet spot deep inside you.

“Can I pull your hair, beautiful?” he asked, his pace not faltering.

“Mhmm,” you answered, lost in pleasure. Usually you’d never let a man pull your hair but Nicholas just had that effect on you.

He gripped your braids in the ponytail they were in, using it as an anchor to slam into you faster and harder. Soon, the scrunchie fell out and he scooped your braids in his hand, still pounding into you.

“Holy fuck, you’re clenching around me so tight, cum on my dick,” he moaned.

You buried your face into a cushion, crying out as you shuddered and squirted around him, your arousal dripping down to his beautiful white couch.

“Shit,” you panted, “sorry about your couch.”

“That’s the least princess,” he replied, “bedroom next?”

You nodded and lifted you up and you wrapped your legs around his firm torso, your lips locking in a messy kiss as he stumbled with you to his bedroom upstairs. You were grinding on his cock and he could barely make it to his bedroom before he pushed you up against the top of the stairs, making your upper body hang over.

But you weren’t scared. You were in Nicholas’ strong arms, and whatever deep subconscious worry of falling over had disappeared as his cock slipped inside your dripping pussy. He began fucking into you, holding your body tight against him as you jolted over the stairs.

“Fucking hell, this is so hot,” he panted, leaning down to suck on your nipples.

“You fuck me so good,” you moaned.

He chuckled, his pace speeding up and soon, he recognized the unmistakable feeling of your walls clamping around him.

“You’ve cum so much for me tonight baby, give me another, c’mon you can do it,” he urged.

You were determined to give him anything he wanted and you leaned up, no longer hanging over the stairs, to wrap your arms around him as yet another orgasm ripped through you like a knife.

“Good girl, who’s my good girl?” he cooed.

“I am,” you answered, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

He finally took you up to his bedroom, your body trembling in his arms and his cock still deep inside you.

He sat with you on the bed, a wince escaping your lips as you were impaled on his cock.

“I know you’re tired baby, I’ve made you cum five fucking times,” he said, you couldn’t believe he’d made you cum that many times, you weren’t sure you had another left in you, “but I need you to do it one more time for me while I cum inside you.”

“T-too much,” you whined, your body overstimulated and exhausted from it all.

“C’mon baby, don’t you wanna be my good girl? I know you’ve got one more in you, ride my cock and make me proud,” he urged.

If it was one thing you wanted, it was to make Nicholas proud and you lifted your head from his neck, planting a kiss on his lips as a promise to fulfill his wishes.

He leaned against the headboard, bucking his hips as you began bouncing on his cock.

“There she is, ride your cock,” he moaned.

Hearing him refer to himself as yours had you feeling something you’d never felt before. In response, you lifted your hips higher, slamming yourself down on him so he could feel how deep he was inside you. He let out a breathy moan, clutching the sheets below as his eyes averted from your boobs bouncing to his dick disappearing inside your pussy.

“You’re a fucking vixen, so goddamn beautiful,” he moaned.

His praises only encouraged you further and you began grinding on him, giving your clit the friction it needed and making his cock feel all of your insides.

“You like how I ride your dick baby?” you asked, your pussy grinding on him just the way your ass did in the club earlier.

“I fucking love it beautiful, oh shit, keep doing that, I’m gonna cum inside you,” he murmured.

Ever so obedient, you ground yourself on his dick, groping your boobs and tipping your head back, giving him a show.

“I— I’m gonna— I’m gonna fucking cum baby!” he cried.

“Give me everything, cum inside me,” you moaned.

Your body shook on top of him as you creamed and he let out the sweetest moans you’d ever heard. He gripped onto you as though you were his anchor, ropes and ropes of his warm cum spurting deep inside you. If you thought his cock filled you up, his cum was the cherry on top, filling you to the brim like you were nothing but his breeding slut.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he moaned, shivering under you, somehow still coming, “it’s so much, fuck.”

Your body finally gave out and you collapsed on top of him, exhausted and overstimulated, the slightest brush against your pussy making you wince. He finally pulled out and you squeezed your eyes shut, enjoying the feeling of his cum oozing out of you and pooling onto his sheets.

He lifted you up, your legs wrapping around him and your head resting on his shoulder as he carried you to the bathroom. He ran a warm bath, sitting on a stool with you in his arms.

“Don’t fall asleep beautiful, I’m running you a bath. You must be exhausted,” he said, kissing your forehead, “you did amazing.”

Gently, he placed you in the bath then sat behind you, using a wash cloth to clean you up and then himself, peppering kissed as he did.

“You’re out of this world, so so beautiful,” he whispered.

“Thank you, you’re so sweet,” you replied, feeling a tad bit shy under his praises.

As soon as you were finished, he dried himself off then did the same for you, wrapping you in a towel and carrying you to another room with clean sheets. He laid you gently on the bed and snuggled beside you, wrapping his arms around you.

“Everything about you is perfect, God, I want this everyday with you,” you heard him say as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

[star2fishmeg]

luke‘s so cute, I wanna give him a private concert. just imagine him laying on the bed, admiring you while you are dancing and singing around the room☺️

He's grinning the entire time, leaning up against his headboard one night, watching you sing your current favourite song like no one's watching as you dramatically undress yourself. Not in a sexy strip tease way (although he still finds it sexy), but in a way that has you clumsily pulling your top over your head, waving it around briefly before launching it at him like a basketball before returning to twirling around as you sing the chorus.

He tosses the top aside, sinking back into his pillows, resting both hands behind his head, eyes watching you mesmerised, if you looked close enough you may have seen his heart shaped pupils. You wiggle out of your jeans with a wavering voice as you sang, eventually resorting to just kicking them off as you point to him, singing the verse to him as if you've written the song for and about him.

His favourite moment of your performance is when you start twirling your underwear-clad hips, unclasp your bra and let it slide off your arms, giving him a wink before throwing it at him and pulling his t-shirt over your head. Luke licks his lips catching your bra before it smacks him in the face, hooking it onto the corner of his headboard. You, with the knowledge of his fond liking, shake your hips as you make your way to his bathroom, disappearing into the en-suite and he's curious, you've seduced him enough for him to leave the bed and lean against the doorframe in that way that guys do that's far too sexy for their own good with his arms big arms over his bare chest. You're still trying to sing while cleansing your face, pulling strange faces, which you would have been embarrassed by a year ago, that bring a blooming warmth to his chest and he can't help but let his eyes rake over your body with a smirk, melting at how you move your ass to the tune of the song that's rolling off your tongue. He feels like the luckiest man alive, his pretty girlfriend singing to him before she's curling up with him.

Even when your waist suddenly becomes warm, encased in Luke's arms as his lips trail sweet kisses on your shoulder, you continue singing to him, the lyrics losing their flow with pauses between them as you try to concentrate on clearing away the mess you've made.

"Keep singing, beautiful," he murmurs in a deep voice, "want you to sing me to sleep."

And so, you do, taking him by his hands and guiding him back into the bedroom, letting him twirl you before gently lifting you onto the mattress, thriving in showing off his strength and how easy it is for him to handle you and crawling under the covers. You, gradually softening your voice, pull him on top of your chest, turning the lamp off and stroke his curls until he drifts off.

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။ knockout x renji abarai

✧ summary there’s no better way for renji to celebrate a big win than to spend the night with y/n.

✧ content warnings reader described as a black woman who uses she/pronouns. feisty!reader, chubby!reader x undergroundfighter!renji. modern au — no bleach verse. told in first POV — renji’s. mentions of stitches and bruises. usage of profanity, praise kink, cowgirl position, nipple play, facefucking — renji will finish in reader’s, squirting. terms of endearment — baby, sweetheart, angel, etc. reader and renji are in their late twenties.

✧ author’s note hello, hello. i am here with a fic that’s not jjk for once in my life, lmfao. this idea has been in my drafts since january 2023, and it was just sitting there collecting dusts on my old tumblr. but i said i was going to do more bleach characters, so here we go. first time writing renji, so if this ain’t how you see him, oops. still enjoy. also didn't really focus on the underground!fighter portion as much. but maybe i will if there's a next time. support me by liking, commenting, and reblogging this post. i would greatly appreciate it. AGELESS/BLANK BLOGS AND MINORS— DO NOT INTERACT.

I know she told me not to come by after the fight, but I needed to. 

 I won.

 I fucking won, and there’s no other way for me to celebrate winning ten thousand dollars than to be with Y/N.

 Well, that’s if she’s still not mad at me.

 Before I left for my match, we got into an argument. A huge one. She doesn’t like that I fight for a living, let alone illegal underground fighting. I mean—I get it. Seeing someone you care about constantly getting his ass beat isn’t a sight worth seeing. 

 But fighting is all I know. 

 I had a shitty childhood. Didn’t know who the hell my parents were since they gave me up at birth for adoption. Jump around in foster care homes until the mothers got sick of me and kicked me out in the streets. Survival was basically forced on me.

 Fighting is what kept me alive. For food. Clothes. A place to lay my head. Whether I lost or won, I know the reason why I’m alive today is because I’m a fighter. 

 It wasn’t until I was eighteen when I found out about the world of underground fighting. Ten years deep and I know nothing else. 

 Y/N knows this about me. She understands I didn’t have it easy and never judged me. But that doesn’t mean she agrees with my lifestyle. 

 She came to a few fights in the beginning. Eventually, she got tired of seeing me stitched up almost every weekend. 

 Shit, me too. 

 However, after tonight, I feel good about my future wins. I busted my ass in training, so now I don’t have to hear shit about anymore losses. 

 Even if right now I’m stitched up and have a black eye. I feel good.

 Great.

 Better if Y/N opens the door after keeping me waiting out in the cold for the past ten minutes. 

 I know she’s awake. She has a habit of staying up late, studying for med school. And plus, I haven’t messaged or called her yet. Despite her not showing up to my fights, she still wants an update afterwards that I made it out alive.

 “Y/N, let me in,” I say, knocking loudly on her apartment door. “You know I don’t care about making a scene.”

 After a few more obnoxious knocks, the door finally swings open and I am met with deep russet skin, tight curls, and chocolate-colored eyes that pierce an annoyed look in my direction.

 “What do you want?” She bites out. “I’m busy.”

 I smirk and hold the bag of money in the air. “I won.”

 “Congrats.” Her tone is flat and she tries to slam the door in my face, but I placed my foot to stop it from closing. “Seriously?”

 “Yes, seriously. Are you really still mad at me?” I teasingly ask. 

 “You won. I said congrats. What more do you want?”

 I shrugged. “I’m locked out of my apartment.”

 She arches a brow at me, already recognizing my bullshit ass excuse of being locked out of my apartment. 

 Y/N knows me. She knows I would do anything to be in her presence, so going back and forth in forty degree weather is pointless. 

 Her pretty brown hues travels across my face and body, examining the stitches and bruises that probably has her wondering, who the fuck treated him? 

 Me. But that’s besides the point.

 A deep sign escapes her mouth when she realizes I’m not going anywhere until she lets me in, so she opens her door wider and turns her back to me to walk further inside her apartment. 

 “Sit,” she orders, which I happily do so while chuckling to myself. 

 While Y/N goes to the bathroom (assuming she’s getting a med kit to fix my shitty patch job), I take advantage of staring at her round ass that’s barely covered in those tiny boy shorts. Every step she takes it jiggles, creating an ocean of waves I’m eager to swim in.

 I get comfortable while I wait, taking off my skully, sweater, and any other form of heavy clothing that would cause me to sweat in her heated apartment. 

 “I’m going to start charging you if you keep fucking coming to my apartment like this, Renji,” Y/N snapped, walking with the kit in her hand as expected. 

 “Outside of paying for your tuition, I can think of other ways to repay you.”

 She rolls her eyes at my suggestive comment. “Get over yourself, Abarai.”

 I let out a snort before she stands in front of me and tilt up my chin to start making work on my face. 

 She’s cute when she’s mad. Huffing and puffing while whispering slick comments under breath. But how she’s handling my face by moving it around with force rushes blood straight to my groin.

 I’m getting hard.

 Hard as shit, and it’s not helping that I’m in close proximity with her. 

 That jasmine lavender scent that circulates through my senses. Looking up at her full lips that’s coated with gloss. Then, lowering my gaze to her tits that’s big, naturally saggy, and pretty. My mouth is watering at the sight of her nipples hardening.

 And I don’t know if it’s because she feels that I’m checking her out or the coldness outside is affecting her. 

 Either way, I’ll act on it.

 Taking it upon myself, I grab the back of her thighs to pull her on my lap. As if she’s used to my antics, it doesn’t catch her off guard and she continues to clean up my wounds. 

 “You’re all bloody up with a black eye and somehow you still have the energy to be a pervert,” she retorts.

 I move one of hands to her ass, massaging comforting circles. “For you? Yeah.”

 The quiet between us was comfortable until she opted to speak again. “So… who’d you fight?”

 “Some huge motherfucker. I thought I was going to die.”

 She leans back to grab more alcohol and dabs it above my brow. “Maybe that’s what needed to have you stop fucking fighting.”

 I throw my head back to laugh, but she grabs my chin to bring my face forward. “Like you want me dead.” My hands creep beneath her cheeks to pull her closer to me and apply more pressure to my cock. “That’s what you want?”

 “That came out my mouth, Abarai?”

 “Why are you still mad at me?” 

 She scoffs. “Why am I mad that you’re practically coming to me everyday with a busted face and broken ribs?” That’s one thing I love about Y/N—her feisty personality. It turns me on so fucking much because I know when I fuck her, it’ll be a different story. 

 Continuing, she says, “I think I would be a little more satisfied if you did this professionally as opposed to underground. Underground doesn’t come with insurance, Ren.”

 “Aw, you care about me that much?” My question was supposed to be posed as a joke, but the look on her pretty face says otherwise. 

 “Fucking asshole. I don’t know why I still deal with your ass.”

 “Probably because you love me.”

 “Probably not.”

  Gripping her hips, I pull her with me and lean back into the headrest of the couch. We’re inches away from our mouths cooling and I take advantage of this proximity by basking in her sweet smelling breath and beauty. 

 Simply because Y/N exists, my cocks hardens for her. Holding her in my arms. Feeling her pussy against my erection and breasts suffocating pressed on my chest. Girlfriend or not, she’s mine.  

 And she knows it. 

 I can see how she looks at me, even when mad, that she cares and loves me. Y/N is a tough girl. I can only imagine what she’s been through. Still, she manages to soften up just for me. 

 We never made it official since she doesn’t approve of the underground shit, but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop asking. 

 “So when are you going to say yes to being my girlfriend?” I whisper.

 She tries breaking from my embrace, but I tighten my grip. “Renji…”

 “You feel my dick pressed against you, right? It only makes it harder when you say my name like that, Y/N.”

 “Be real with me… will you keep doing this shit forever?” Her eyes waver as she awaits my answer and I can’t help the guilt from pinging my chest. 

 “If it lessens my chance of being with you, no.”

 She searches my face for hesitance or deceit, however, she finds nothing because I meant what I said. Y/N is the only person that looks at me like I’m a human, and I wouldn’t let my obsession with fighting get in the way of our future together. 

 How she tucks her coil behind her ear and nips down on her lower lip shows me the bit of vulnerability she reserves for me.

 So—I take advantage of it. 

 In less than three seconds my lips were on hers. I take my time relishing those sweet, plump and plush, strawberry flavored lips.

 I can feel the skepticism from Y/N while kissing her, maybe because she’s trying to put on this show that she’s still mad at me. But soon, her rigid body melts into mine and returns the kiss. 

 Our heavy breaths mingle, increasing in speed the more aggressive we lock lips. She begins rolling her hips onto my cock and I let out a grunt, feeling the moisture of her pussy liquefying on me. 

 The slaps I leave on her ass are harsh, causing her to bite my bottom lip and suck it into her mouth. Y/N is so fucking aggressive it drives me nuts. She gives me a high and adrenaline not even a fight could give. 

 “Pull your dick out, Ren,” she orders through muffled moans and our kiss. 

 “Fucking bossing me around to give you cock? Not mad at me anymore?” Y/N ignores my taunt and works her hands between us to untie my sweats. I hiss at the feel of her cool hands engulfing my dick to give it a few pumps.

 She must not know what her touch does to me. She handles my cock like she owns it, and gosh, I fucking love that shit. My fingers gently tangle into her coils to deepen our kiss, but she soon gets up to strip her clothes.

 Fuck… Fuck, she’s so goddamn sexy. I’ll never get tired of her thick body, filled with soft dips and curves. I look at her, observe her like she’s an expensive piece of art hung up at a museum because that’s what I see her as. 

 Pretty pussy leaking arousal and I smirk to myself, thinking how she had all that attitude earlier while being wet for me like she didn’t want me inside of her.

 “You’re fucking beautiful. You know that?” I ask, massaging her tits and looking up at her. “You still have that attitude or are you going to come ride my cock like a good girl?”

 She gently pushes me back against the couch with her lips on mine and straddles my lap. “Depends on if you’re going to be a good boy and take this pussy.”

 “Shit, angel. I will.”

 Y/N hums while reaching around to align my cock with her sex. Two seconds later, she slowly sinks down my length until I’m buried into the hilt. That soft lingering fuck that slips past her pretty lips sounds sexy as hell and has my dick twitching in response.

 I can’t bust now. Not yet. Even if the tightness and heat of her pussy pushes me off the edge of a mountain. Her pussy is so warm, so fucking warm, fat, and wet. Gosh, I don’t ever think I can be without this pussy. 

 I throw my head back and savor this feeling, but Y/N had other plans for me. 

 “Remember to look at me when I’m riding you, Ren,” she coos. “Eyes on me, baby. I want you to see how much I love this dick inside my pussy.”

 Fucking Christ. “Tell me how much you love it while bouncing on me.”

 And she does just that. Telling me how big and girthy I am, that she’s sorry for giving me attitude and admits that she just wanted dick. But no. I want her to fuck me like she’s mad. I need that type of energy pumping through my veins after this win tonight. 

 I reassure Y/N and tell her to fuck me harder. Her pace quickens and slaps her ass fervently against my cock. I can’t stop moaning her name. The wet slippery noises coming from her pussy increases in volume and it creates a mess between us. 

 This is where I belong, deep in her pussy and feeling her walls squeeze the hell out of me. I don’t even hold her hips or waist. I relax comfortably with my arms sprawl over the top of her couch, watching how gorgeous she looks while fucking what’s hers. 

 “Oh, fuck, Renji,” she moans, tugging her lips inwards and lolling her head to the side in complete pleasure.

 Those perfect, full tits bounces in my face and I can’t help but stare and become mesmerized. Light marks that resemble tiger stripes decorated the valley of breasts. Her nipples, pebbled and straining underneath my gaze, look desperate for my touch.

 I take it upon myself to pinch them between my fingers and a soft shriek escapes her mouth, further arching her back. 

 Y/N keeps getting wetter by the second, every bounce she makes. And hearing her sticky arousal, I know and see how she’s creaming my cock.  Purposely, I sit myself on the couch, thrusting up in her a bit to feel my head hit her g spot.

 “Ren, help me little,” she begs through a whimper. “Fuck me back.”

 I caress her cheeks with the back of my head. “Yeah? You want me to help you, sweetheart?”

 “Please.”

 God, I love it when she’s needy for me like this. 

 In no time, my hands are at her waist and my thrusts meet with her jumping movements. Y/N isn't loud when it comes to her sounds of pleasure. Vocal, yes. But right now, her moans and whimpers are louder than usual. 

 It’s like she needed my dick inside of pussy just as much as I needed it. 

 I see the desire in her brown hues. I feel the heat radiating off Y/N’s skin while my fingers dig into her flesh, holding her in place to pound upwards into her pussy. 

 This is what I wanted—to fuck my girl after a well deserved win. And she’s going to congratulate me how I want. 

 My lips are at her neck leaving wet kisses and sucking her flesh until purple specks form. “Coming home to this good fucking pussy. Gosh, I love how you feel, angel. Going to fucking mean it now when you say congrats?”

 “Congratulations, baby,” she purrs, slamming harder on my cock. “You did good… so damn good, Ren.”

 I hum, dragging my tongue along her neck. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

 Y/N continues to gasps out her pleas for me to fuck harder. I comply… I comply in helping my pretty girl come and savor the look when she washes over me. My grips are firm on her waist, betting that’ll leave marks when she wakes up the next poor, and drive my cock deeper into her pussy.

 I’m in pure awe. I feel my own releasing catching up to me the more I watch her take me. This is my woman. My fucking girl. I come home to this every night after every fight to hold her in my arms and fuck her. 

 Her name from my mouth sounds like a broken record when I moan her name. This fat, gushy, slick and tight pussy has this power over me. She won’t stop fucking squeezing me, I can’t prevent my face from growing hot. It’s intense how I feel right now, and it’s all because of Y/N.

 “Good, good fucking pussy. God, you’re so fucking good to me, angel face,” I rasp, pecking her lips. “You’re going to come for me?”

 “Yes, Renji, baby. I’m going to come. Keep giving me that dick. Please don’t stop, please.”

 “Put your fingers in my mouth.” She does quick with my command. I suck on her digits and coat them well with saliva before pushing them out of my mouth. ���Now rub your clit, pretty girl. I wanna see you squirt everywhere.”

 Because she’s overwhelmed with arousal, Y/N stops bouncing on my cock and allows me to fuck her while she plays with clit. Her mouth hangs gape, drool slightly coating the side of her mouth and breathing heavily. 

 My balls slap her ass. My head kisses her soft cushion repeatedly. Her velvet walls transfer warmth to my cock and the bubble that rests in the pit of my stomach is on the verge of explosion.

 I’m about to come. Hard.

 But I need her to come first.

 “Fucking come for me, Y/N. Keep playing with that pretty pussy and moan my name,” I grit out, pushing past all my thrusts. 

 “Right there, Renji. Keep fucking me right there… I’m–oh, fuck–I’m coming.”

 She’s so pretty when she comes. Dark brown porcelain complexion, slick with sweat. Eyes rolling to the back of her head. Pussy clenching and unclenching around my cock. Moaning, whimpering my name back to back. 

She’s breathless. Flawless. I have this image of her painted perfectly in my mind. Watching Y/N come, makes me come, so I make quick work to pull her off my lap. And she knows exactly what I want–to fuck my release down her throat.

 Her mouth is as warm as her pussy, and I let out hitched breaths and harsh grunts when she swallows me whole. I’m relentless when forcing her head down on my cock as I facefuck her. The gurgling noises she makes are obscene. Pornogrpahic, even. 

 And what caused my come to shoot through her mouth is seeing that she’s still massaging her clit, eventually squirting all over her wooden floors. 

 My hips stutter and I throw my head back to moan into the air. “Fuck, Y/N! That’s my fucking girl. Look at you making a mess while choking on my cock and swallowing my come.”

 Y/N takes it upon herself to wrap her lips tighter around my cock and massage my balls, ensuring every single last of my nut has released in her mouth. I take it for a while, but I soon become sensitive, practically feeling my skin being sucked off.

 “Easy now, angel,” I say through an airy chuckle. I pull my cock out and her mouth echoes a pop sound. 

 She whines a little because I’m no longer in her mouth and it causes me to smirk because it wasn’t too long ago where she acted like she hated me. 

 My hand grasps her chin and guides it upwards to meet with my eyes. “You swallowed for me, Y/N? Open up.” She nods, sticking her tongue out. “Perfect.”

 “You’re going to fuck me again?” She asks, catching her bottom lip between her teeth.”

 Gosh, this woman will be the death of me.

tags: @dejwrld @hvshinas @diamondoidxx @xxjazzxx @thegirlwonder1 @ryukenzz @maiapuhpaia @elitesanjisimp @amyrahrose @sweetpeachies @abigolemess @linastired @diorsbrando @starrygetou @niya729 (if i didn't tag you it's because tumblr wouldn't have your user pop up)

[calicoheartz]

need need need something about Caitlin dating a famous popstar, think Sabrina carpenter

☆ espresso ; Caitlin Clark

summary : caitlin clark x pop star reader!

synopsis : you are the music scenes next hot thing , who happens to be dating worldwide famous wnba player (set a tiny bit into the future)

warnings : tiniest bit suggestive if you squint , pure fluff !

my master list ㇀♡

a/n: thank you to the lovely person who suggested this! i changed some of the lyrics in the song for it to make sense but it shouldn’t be too noticeable. Enjoy ◡̈

You were the music industry’s next hot thing. From performing at smaller venues, to headlining at Coachella; you were everywhere. Along with your wnba superstar, Caitlin Clark.

The two of you had met while you were preforming a gig at a local bar , a little right before you got your big break. Ever since then, the two of you had been inseparable. Both instantly drawn to each others passion and drive for your careers.

But with Caitlin’s demanding basketball schedule and your international shows and tours , maintaining your relationship proved to be a challenge. Only relying on calls , texts , and surprise visits whenever you can to steal a moment together amidst your busy lives.

It had been almost 3 weeks since you’ve seen your loving girlfriend. With the wnba draft and Coachella starting to kick off, the universe was simply pulling you two away from eachother.

You were sitting in your dressing room , preparing to go on stage to kick off the second weekend at the bustling festival , the biggest festival of the year for that matter. Your nerves were practically eating you alive, you knew she would be in audience. You toyed with your hair as your makeup artist finished the final touches of your look , as you fidgeted with the hem of your skirt. The skirt that perfectly hugged your curves , delicately adorned with lace and bows , your signature look.

You soon snapped back to reality, with the cheers from the audience slowly making its way into your mind. There was no doubt in your mind that this was the moment that could make or break your career. You planned on preforming your newly released song espresso , as a way to give your girlfriend a little treat on her first day back.

You made your way to the stage , sporting your signature beach waves and skimpy clothes, the intro to the song soon began and your eyes darted across the crowd. Begging to meet with the one pair of eyes you can call her own.

You hear the crowd begin to chant your name , you lock eyes with Caitlin briefly, sending a smirk your way. Prompting you to slowly begin to sway your hips as you begin to sing..

❝ now she’s thinkin’ ‘bout me every night oh, is it that sweet? I guess so ❞

you turn towards caitlin , seeing a big grin on her face , as she very well knows the melodic tune is referencing your whirlwind romance. Your hips continue to sway as the lyrics danced off the tip of your tongue , hitting every note in the process.

❝ And i got this one girl

And she won’t stop calling

when they act this way..

I know i got ‘em ! ❞

The crowd begins to scream , noticing your small wink towards caitlin , making it painfully obvious of your ode to her throughout the song

As the lyrics then again roll off your tongue like sweet honey, you continue to prance around the stage earning gasps and applause from the audience, and most importantly; a hungry gaze from your girlfriend. Her eyes practically undressed you as they wandered from your hips to your face, and vice versa. You immediately felt butterflies in your stomach, it had been so long since shes looked at you with those eyes. And as much as you wanted to jump off the stage and into her arms, you only had to finish the rest of the chorus and verse before concluding your set.

You began…

❝ I'm working late 'cause I'm a singer…Oh, she looks so cute wrapped around my finger! ❞

The music continues and you feel as if you are on cloud nine. If this doesnt fully establish your relationship with cait, then youre not sure what will. You practically feel her eyes burning into you as you resume your soft sways, slowly becoming more provocative as you reach near the end of the song. You hair slowly flows with the gentle breeze, as you shoot a glance towards your girlfriend, receiving a approving nod in return. You hear your cue, and make your way to the front to face the audience head on, you quickly hit your iconic signature pose while belting

❝ Mmm, that's that me espresso❞

And the audience erupts with claps and chants as you quickly exit the stage, locking eyes with your manager who signals you to head to the back. As you make your way down there, you feel a strong and warming embrace wrapped around your hips, with soft kisses peppering your neck. “Cait!” you squealed, unable to hide your excitement to see the brunette, she grins at your reaction, snaking her arm beneath you as she slowly begins to carry you to your dressing room.

She soon gently puts you down, as she gently begins caressing your cheek. “You did amazing” she muttered, “everytime you preform you never refuse to amaze me with the amount of talent that you have-” you cut her off with a deep and tender kiss, tasting the mango flavored lipbalm that glistened on her lips.

You giggle, simply muttering , youre my honey bee.. Come get this pollen ;)

anywaysss this is my go at pop star reader x cc !! tbh i feel like this is train wreck but you be the judge of that! tysm for reading 🎀

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ the mood i'm in ❞ ─ an adhd chronicles blurb

pairing: aaron hotchner x fem!adhd!reader. summary: sometimes rearranging a whole entire closet is a biological need. content warnings: fluff, adhd antics (i'm diagnosed don't try to come for me) word count: 600+. a/n: this was requested by @ficmeoutofthisworld and i felt the need to make a blurb!verse of it, so expect more fluff for these three 🩵 & the idea of jack calling you honey came from honey is for love by @angellsell

      “Daddy, honey has that weird look again.” Aaron can’t help but smile at his little boy, putting the files he was working on down on his desk, telling him to come closer with his hands. Jack had gotten into the habit of calling you honey very early on in your relationship, that being one of the pet names Aaron used the most when talking to you. It was too endearing to correct him, even after you moved in. You both just let the boy be, knowing that he would call you by name once he got older.

      You didn’t mind him not calling you mom or any of its variants, even if the relationship you shared now was much alike mother and child, Jack didn’t remember a lot of Haley by himself, he was too little, but Aaron always did his best to keep her memory alive in him, so if for his young mind it was easier to call you a pet name, you would take it every single time with a smile. And so would Aaron. 

      “What look, buddy?” He asks even though he’s sure he knows the answer, having been through that a few times over the last two years. 

      “She’s staring at my stuff and sitting on the floor.” Bingo. Every once in a while you would get obsessed with something, it made sense after you were diagnosed with ADHD and he learnt how to accommodate you properly, but for a while it was just a big clash of his organized and controlling nature and your chaotic mind. 

      “Let’s see what she needs, okay?” Jack nods, leading the way with his dad closely behind. They find you exactly as his boy explained to him, sitting with your legs crossed on the floor, staring at his wardrobe so attentively it might scare the unknown eye. 

      “Darling? What’s going on?” He asks without entering the room, not wanting to invade your space before you called him in, instead he decided to lean on the door frame, observing you with his kind eyes.

      “I want to rearrange all of Jack’s clothes but we need more hangers for that and I don’t want to go to the store just to buy hangers, but I also can’t get up to go to the kitchen and check what else we need.” You answered quickly, finishing your ramble with a huff, dropping your shoulders and looking at your fiancé with a pout that made him get closer to you, offering his hands so you could have some support while getting up, you lazily do it, being embraced by him as soon as your feet touch the ground. 

      “Go watch something with Jack, okay?” His tone is always soft, as if your conversations, even the silliest and mundane ones, were secrets for you two to keep. He knew you too well, so he prevented the whine he knew would come–you wanted to get this done, you needed to rearrange Jack’s clothes or the itch in your brain wouldn’t leave–and he did so by holding both of your cheeks with his hands, making you look at him. “I’ll make the shopping list and then you both can go to Target while I get some reports done.” You nod happily, his hands moving with your head. 

      Telling you to watch something with Jack could seem like a mindless choice of words, but it wasn’t, Aaron knew you were feeling stuck and how bad that made you feel, you needed a dopamine kick before you could do something, and no better way for that than colorful silly shows with your favorite boy.

      By the time he’s done with the shopping list, you had already started another important project: Napping on the couch with Jack. So he leaves it attached with a magnet on the fridge, gives you both soft forehead kisses and goes back to work, not minding the fact he did it quickly for no reason, happy you were resting and that it was done for when you decided to shop.

[moonselune]

hellooo!! I have a kinda odd req hehe

could you write for the female companions reacting to finding bard tav secretely training their fighting skills?

like, tav went out to the far edge of the clearing for some reason, and the ladies followed because like why not, lets go check if tavs doing good

they find tav singing, which like, pfft, obviously, but then in the middle of it, they just pull out whole fucking fighting techniques, obliterating a dummy they had like .. stole borrowed from Laez'el, while still humming their little tune during kicks and slaps as if it was the most normal shit ever

could u incorporate some kinda jiu-jitsu in there?? I adore the grace that comes with it, and feel as though it would be suit for an elegant (not) singer such as tav 💫

i know this is kinda weird i just adore the 'uninnocent innocent being' trope. (　・ω・)

not weird at all I love this trope too! Thanks for the request xox

Karlach:

The late afternoon sun was casting long, golden rays over the grove as Karlach wandered back to camp, her infernal engine thrumming softly in her chest. She hadn’t meant to follow you. Not exactly. It was just that you’d taken Lae’zel’s battered training dummy—something she’d been in the middle of repairing—and disappeared into the woods. That was strange enough, but Karlach had felt a familiar pull of curiosity mixed with concern. What were you up to out there?

Now, crouched behind a large oak tree, Karlach peeked around the trunk and found you standing at the edge of the clearing. A soft tune drifted through the air, your voice carrying the melody like a warm breeze.

"Oh, Y/N," she whispered aloud. "Singing to the dummy, huh? Classic you."

You swayed slightly with the rhythm of your song, your movements so fluid and natural they almost looked like a dance. But then, without warning, you stopped mid-verse. You reached out, gripping the dummy’s shoulder—and in the blink of an eye, flipped it over your hip.

Karlach’s jaw dropped.

You didn’t stop there. Before the dummy even hit the ground, you shifted your stance, your body moving with the kind of practiced grace she’d only seen in seasoned warriors. You dropped into a low sweep, pivoting on one leg to strike its base, sending it sprawling. Rising fluidly, you delivered a precise strike to the 'head,' punctuating the movement with a hum as if you hadn’t just obliterated a target.

The final flourish was almost poetic: you executed a spinning kick, your heel colliding with the dummy so hard it cracked the wooden stand beneath it. The dummy tumbled to the side, and you stood there, breathing lightly, as if the exertion hadn’t affected you in the slightest.

Karlach couldn’t contain herself any longer.

“WHAT IN THE HELLS WAS THAT?!”

Your head snapped toward her, your face flooding with color as you realized you weren’t alone.

“Karlach!” you stammered, your hands flying to smooth your tunic. “What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here?!” Karlach stepped out from behind the tree, her arms gesturing wildly. “What are you doing? Since when do you know how to do… that?” She pointed at the now-defeated dummy, which lay pitifully on its side.

You crossed your arms defensively, cheeks still burning. “I’ve always known a little…”

“A little?!” Karlach let out a booming laugh, her tail swishing behind her. “Babe, you just took that dummy apart like it insulted your singing or something!”

You bit your lip, your eyes darting away.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” you mumbled. “It’s just… I wanted to be able to help. You all are so incredible in battle, and I’m just…”

“You’re just what?” Karlach cut in, stepping closer. “The bard who keeps us inspired and alive? The one who holds this whole ragtag crew together?”

Your blush deepened, but you met her eyes. “I just thought… if I could be stronger—physically—I wouldn’t be such a burden.”

Karlach’s expression softened immediately. She reached out, her large, calloused hands cupping your cheeks gently.

“Love,” she said, her voice low and warm, “you’re never a burden. You don’t have to break dummies in half to prove your worth to anyone. But… I gotta admit, that was really impressive.”

You blinked up at her. “You’re not mad I didn’t tell you?”

“Mad?” Karlach grinned, her sharp teeth flashing. “Are you kidding? I’m proud as hell. But I am gonna need you to teach me some of those moves. Especially that spinny one—that was badass.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, your earlier embarrassment melting away.

“Maybe,” you teased, poking her chest lightly. “But only if you promise not to tell the others.”

Karlach made a zipping motion across her lips. “Your secret’s safe with me, champ. But I’m not gonna lie—I’m gonna have a hard time not bragging about my badass bard babe.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. Karlach pulled you into a tight hug, her warmth enveloping you completely.

“C’mon,” she said, slinging an arm around your shoulders. “Let’s get back to camp before Lae’zel notices her dummy’s been… obliterated.”

You groaned, leaning into her. “We’re so dead.”

Karlach laughed, her voice echoing through the trees. “Eh, worth it.”

Minthara:

The woods beyond the camp were quiet, save for the faint notes of a melody drifting through the air. Minthara moved silently between the trees, her keen drow eyes tracking your figure at the far edge of the clearing. It was unusual for you to wander off alone, even more so to take Lae'zel’s battered training dummy with you. Curiosity piqued, Minthara decided to follow.

There you were, standing before the dummy, singing softly to yourself. Minthara paused, leaning against the trunk of a tree, watching. Singing to a training dummy wasn’t entirely out of character for you—your bardic inclinations often led to unusual displays of creativity—but she was puzzled. Why bring it all the way out here?

Her question was soon answered.

As the lilting tune fell from your lips, you suddenly shifted. Your stance became poised, your body a study in fluid motion. Without breaking the rhythm of your humming, you lunged at the dummy. Your movements were precise and graceful, your strikes flowing seamlessly into each other like a carefully choreographed dance. A swift kick sent the dummy reeling, followed by a series of rapid jabs and slaps that would have left a living opponent breathless. Then, with a pivot and a sweep of your leg, you brought the dummy crashing to the ground.

Minthara’s eyebrows lifted in surprise as you continued, employing techniques she recognized as advanced martial arts. There was a particular elegance to your movements, a controlled power that belied the carefree melody you still hummed. You transitioned into a joint lock on the dummy, flipping it as though it were an actual opponent resisting your movements.

Finally, you stood over it, brushing your hands together as if dusting off invisible dirt, your song never faltering. She stepped out of the shadows, slow and deliberate.

“Well, well,” Minthara drawled, her voice low and laced with amusement. “What is this, my little songbird?”

You turned, startled to see her, but quickly recovered, flashing her a sheepish smile. “Oh, Minthara. Didn’t realize you were watching.”

Her red eyes narrowed, scanning you with a mix of curiosity and suspicion.

“You’re full of surprises. I’ve spent this entire time believing you to be helpless in battle, reliant on your songs and meager spells for survival.” She gestured at the broken dummy. “And yet, here you are, demonstrating martial prowess that rivals even Lae'zel.”

You rubbed the back of your neck, a faint flush rising to your cheeks. “Well… it’s not something I show off much. I guess I like to keep it quiet.”

Minthara crossed her arms, her expression stern. “Quiet? Or concealed? Tell me, have you enjoyed allowing me to think of you as defenseless? A fragile thing in need of constant protection?”

You blinked, caught off guard by the accusation. “What? No, that’s not it at all—”

She cut you off, stepping closer, her tone sharp. “You’ve let me believe you were incapable of handling yourself. All this time, I’ve fought to shield you, thinking you needed me.”

You hesitated, then sighed, meeting her piercing gaze. “You do love being overprotective, Minthara. Don’t deny it.”

Her expression faltered, a flicker of realization crossing her face. “That is beside the point.”

“No, it’s exactly the point,” you retorted, a playful smile tugging at your lips. “You thrive on it. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how much satisfaction you get out of guarding me like a dragon hoarding treasure.”

Minthara’s scowl deepened, but the corners of her lips twitched. “You are insufferable.”

“And you adore me for it,” you quipped, stepping closer to her. “Minthara, I never meant to deceive you. I just… I didn’t want to take away something that brings you joy.”

She studied you for a long moment, her golden eyes searching. Then, with a resigned sigh, she uncrossed her arms. “You are maddening, songbird.”

“And yet you love me.”

Minthara’s lips curved into a small, reluctant smile. “I do,” she admitted, her voice softening. “Even if you insist on testing my patience.”

You grinned and leaned in, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“You will,” she said, her tone regaining its edge. “Starting with another demonstration. I wish to see every technique you’ve been hiding from me.”

“Now?” you asked, glancing at the ruined dummy.

“Now,” she replied, stepping back and gesturing to the clearing. “And this time, no singing.”

You laughed, shaking your head but obeying. After all, when Minthara asked, you couldn’t refuse.

Lae'zel:

The clearing at the edge of the woods was quiet, save for the faint strains of a melody drifting through the crisp evening air. Lae'zel moved silently, her movements honed by years of Githyanki discipline, her sharp gaze locked on your figure in the distance. She had been curious when she noticed you sneaking away from camp with her broken training dummy. Lae'zel didn't believe in secrets—at least not when they came from you—and her curiosity outweighed her irritation at your appropriation of her equipment.

When she arrived at the clearing, she saw you standing before the battered dummy, humming a tune, your voice soft and lilting. Lae'zel frowned. Singing to a training dummy was strange, even for you. Still, she folded her arms and leaned against a tree, watching silently.

Then you moved.

With the grace of a dancer, you shifted your stance, your feet gliding effortlessly across the ground. You launched into a fluid series of attacks, every strike precise, every movement seamless. Your legs swept low, toppling the dummy, before you flipped backward and struck again with a powerful palm thrust. Lae'zel's eyes widened slightly as you transitioned smoothly into an arm lock, flipping the dummy as though it were an opponent resisting your control.

And the whole time, you kept humming.

Lae'zel’s frown deepened into a scowl. This was no ordinary display. You were using techniques she recognized as advanced martial arts, movements that spoke of training and discipline far beyond the carefree bard she knew. Her pride prickled, and her hands twitched, itching to act.

She didn’t hesitate. Stepping forward, she called out, her voice sharp and commanding. “If you think to test yourself, bard, you shall find no better opponent than me.”

You barely had time to turn before Lae'zel lunged. Reflex took over as you dodged her initial strike, countering with a swift kick that she deflected with ease. Her blade remained sheathed, but her strikes came fast and hard, testing your mettle with every movement.

You tried to hold your ground, countering her attacks with the techniques you had been practicing. For a brief moment, you thought you might impress her—until she caught your wrist mid-strike, twisted you effortlessly, and swept your legs out from under you. You landed on your back with a thud, her knee pressing firmly against your chest, her hand gripping your wrist like iron.

Her golden eyes bore into yours, her expression a mix of fury and curiosity. “Explain yourself. Now.”

You winced, trying to catch your breath under her unrelenting weight. “I—was training.”

Her grip tightened. “Obviously. Why?”

You hesitated, your face flushing. “I wanted to… to be better. To protect you.”

Lae'zel blinked, her scowl deepening. “Protect me? You are a fool. I am the superior warrior. I do not need protecting.”

“I know,” you said quickly, your voice soft. “But I care about you, Lae'zel. I hate the thought of you facing danger alone, of not being able to help you when it matters most.”

Her expression shifted, the anger in her gaze softening into something more unreadable. She studied you for a long moment before scoffing and releasing your wrist, though her knee remained firmly in place. “You waste your time. You are no match for me, nor will you ever be.”

“Maybe not,” you admitted with a small smile. “But I can still try.”

Lae'zel huffed, rising to her feet and pulling you up with her. “You are a fool,” she repeated, but her tone was less harsh. “Your efforts are clumsy, your techniques unfinished. But your spirit…” She paused, her lips twitching into a rare, begrudging smile. “Your spirit is not without merit.”

You grinned, brushing dirt off your tunic. “Coming from you, love, I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Do not misunderstand,” she said, jabbing a finger at your chest. “You will not protect me. But if you insist on training, you will do so properly. Under my instruction.”

Your smile widened. “Does that mean you’ll teach me?”

“It means you will endure,” she said, turning on her heel and gesturing for you to follow. “Now, return my dummy to camp. We begin at dawn.”

Despite her brusque tone, you couldn’t help but notice the faintest hint of pride in her eyes as she walked away. And for that, every bruise was worth it.

Shadowheart:

The edge of the clearing was quiet except for the melodic strains of your voice carrying softly on the breeze. Shadowheart stood hidden among the trees, her brows knit in mild confusion as she observed you standing before a broken training dummy that clearly belonged to Lae’zel. Singing to it wasn’t entirely out of character for you—Shadowheart had seen you serenade stranger objects—but something about your focus held her attention.

You were humming a playful tune, your voice lilting and gentle, as if you didn’t have a care in the world. Then, without breaking the rhythm of your melody, you moved.

The shift was graceful, almost hypnotic. Shadowheart’s breath caught as you launched into a series of movements that seemed more like a dance than a fight. Your steps were light, deliberate, as you circled the dummy, and then—your arm shot out in a palm strike that cracked against the wooden surface. The dummy wobbled but didn’t fall, and you followed up with a spinning kick that knocked it clean off balance. Still singing, you transitioned smoothly into a series of intricate holds and flips, mimicking the motions of grappling an invisible foe with precision and grace.

It was elegant, fluid, and completely unexpected.

Shadowheart found herself riveted, her lips parting slightly as you executed a flawless takedown, your hands locking the dummy into a chokehold before you released it and returned to your feet in one seamless motion. The contrast between the peaceful tune you hummed and the deadly precision of your strikes left her both amused and… intrigued. She felt her cheeks warm as her thoughts turned decidedly less innocent.

Finally, unable to resist any longer, she stepped out from her hiding place, her arms crossed and her smirk coy. “Well, well. What do we have here?”

Your head snapped up, your cheeks flushing immediately at the sight of her. “Shadowheart! I, uh, didn’t see you there.”

“No, I imagine not.” She strolled closer, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of amusement and something darker. “Here I thought you were sneaking off for some peaceful alone time. Instead, I find you… dismantling Lae’zel’s dummy with techniques I didn’t know you possessed.”

You glanced down, suddenly shy, your hands twisting nervously in front of you. “I—I didn’t want anyone to see. It’s just something I’ve been working on. You know, in case I need to defend myself.”

Shadowheart arched an eyebrow, her smirk deepening. “Defend yourself? Against what, exactly? Poor unsuspecting training dummies?”

You pouted slightly, which only seemed to amuse her more. “I thought it might be useful. Everyone’s always protecting me. I just wanted to—”

“To what?” she interrupted, stepping even closer. Her voice dropped, softer, more intimate. “Prove yourself? Impress someone?” She tilted her head, her gaze sweeping over you appreciatively. “If that was the goal, you’ve certainly succeeded.”

Your blush deepened, and you looked away, trying to play off her teasing. “It’s nothing. Really.”

“Oh, it’s far from nothing,” she murmured, her tone laced with both admiration and mischief. “I have to say, it’s quite… captivating. Watching you move like that.” She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, her fingers lingering just a moment too long. “And you looked so at ease. Singing while you fought. It’s rather… arousing.”

“Shadowheart!” you squeaked, your voice higher than you intended. You covered your face with your hands, trying to hide your embarrassment, but she only laughed softly, catching your wrists and pulling them gently away.

“Don’t hide from me,” she said, her voice dipping into something low and warm. “I like this side of you. Confident, graceful, capable. Why have you been hiding it?”

You hesitated, meeting her gaze. “I just… didn’t want to make a big deal of it. Everyone’s so skilled already. And… well, I kind of like when you—when you fuss over me.”

She paused, her smile softening. “Is that so?”

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper. “You’re always so protective. It makes me feel… cared for.”

Shadowheart’s expression shifted, her teasing melting into something more tender. She cupped your cheek, her thumb brushing gently across your skin. “You are cared for. Deeply.” She leaned in, her lips brushing yours in a kiss that was soft yet lingering, a silent promise wrapped in affection.

When she pulled back, her smirk returned, though it was gentler now. “But I’ll admit, I might enjoy seeing you take down a few more dummies. Especially if you keep singing while you do it.”

You laughed, the tension easing from your shoulders. “Deal. But only if you don’t tell Lae’zel I took her dummy.”

Shadowheart chuckled, threading her fingers through yours. “Your secret is safe with me, my love. For now.”

Jaheira:

The forest clearing was tranquil, the golden light of the setting sun filtering through the trees. Jaheira walked at a measured pace, her steps as silent as the breeze rustling the leaves. She had noticed your absence and decided to follow, curious as to what you might be up to. When she reached the edge of the clearing, she stopped, her brows furrowing slightly as she took in the sight before her.

There you were, standing serenely in the center of the clearing with Lae’zel’s broken training dummy. That, in itself, was not entirely unusual—Jaheira was used to your whimsical nature. You were humming a lilting tune, a faint smile on your lips, as if completely at peace. But then… you moved.

Jaheira’s eyes widened slightly as you shifted into an elegant stance. Your movements flowed like water as you began to circle the dummy, your humming never faltering. With a sharp exhale, you struck, your palm landing against the wooden frame with a resounding crack. The force of the blow was shocking, but it was the grace with which you followed through that truly caught Jaheira’s attention.

You spun on your heel, delivering a precise kick that sent the dummy teetering. Before it could recover, you swept its legs out from under it and dropped into a low stance, your hands poised as if prepared to grapple an invisible foe. Then, you transitioned into a smooth jiu-jitsu hold, manipulating the dummy’s limbs with practiced ease.

Jaheira stood frozen, equal parts impressed and bemused, as she watched you flip the dummy over your shoulder and pin it to the ground. Throughout it all, you never stopped humming, your tune as calm and unwavering as a lullaby.

When you finally stood, brushing your hands off with a satisfied sigh, Jaheira stepped forward, breaking the silence.

“I see you’ve been keeping secrets,” she said, her voice carrying just enough warmth to temper the accusation.

You jumped, spinning to face her, your cheeks flushing crimson. “Jaheira! Beloved, I—uh—it’s not what it looks like.”

“Really?” she replied, arching an elegant brow. “Because it looks like you’ve been hiding some very impressive skills. Care to explain?”

You rubbed the back of your neck, suddenly feeling very self-conscious under her discerning gaze. “It’s just… something I’ve been working on. For fun. And… well, to be a little less helpless.”

Jaheira crossed her arms, her expression softening just slightly.

“Helpless? You? Hardly. But I admit, I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who practiced martial arts in secret.”

You glanced down, your voice barely above a mumble. “I didn’t want anyone to make a big deal out of it.”

Jaheira sighed, stepping closer. “You are being ridiculous.” She placed a hand on your shoulder, her tone firm but kind. “There’s no shame in honing your skills. In fact…” She gestured to the dummy. “Your form was impressive, but your follow-through could use some work. That spin was elegant, but you left yourself open.”

You blinked up at her, surprised. “You were impressed?”

A faint smile tugged at the corners of her lips. “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t. But there is always room for improvement.”

Your embarrassment gave way to a shy smile. “Would you… show me? How to improve, I mean.”

Jaheira chuckled softly, shaking her head.

“You don’t have to ask twice, my love.” She moved to stand beside you, her movements deliberate and sure. “Now, watch closely. When you step into the spin, keep your guard up like this. It will make it harder for your opponent to counter.”

As she demonstrated, you couldn’t help but feel a warmth in your chest. Jaheira’s approval meant more to you than you had realized, and her willingness to teach only deepened your admiration for her.

After a few tries, you managed to replicate her movement, earning a small nod of satisfaction from her. “Better,” she said. “Now, again.”

You laughed softly, your earlier embarrassment forgotten as you focused on her instructions. Jaheira’s steady presence, combined with her gentle encouragement, made you feel capable—stronger than you ever had before.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, glancing at her as the sun dipped lower in the sky.

Jaheira met your gaze, her eyes warm. “You don’t need to thank me. Just… promise me you won’t hide your strengths again. You’re far more capable than you give yourself credit for.”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. “I promise.”

“Good,” she said, a hint of playfulness creeping into her tone. “Now, let’s see if you can manage that spin without stumbling this time.”

This was so fun to write and I hope you guys enjoyed this! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[jadeylovesmarvelxo]

🎲🖤 Devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes 🎲🖤

Writing a little fic about the reader joining Hellfire after being kicked out of the original D&D group she's in, for reasons *cough (sexist arseholes)* and Eddie is literally in love with this feisty lady who interrupts the latest Hellfire campaign and asks to join the group, who's planned campaigns involving Vecna and has no trouble arguing with him if he's being a dick. (The latter might be in part two if people are interested)

Vecna who's Vecna? Eddie is alive and thriving in this fic. Also, I'm not 100% well-versed in D&D but I am learning, if I do part two I hope to include more into the plot.

The title is lyrics from Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift 💞

💞

"You can't just kick me out of the group," you say fuming as Ethan looks at you with pity.

"I'm the Dungeon Master so technically I can, the guys just think that you take playing a little less seriously than the rest of us" he lies straight to your face and the anger that is bubbling up inside of you threatens to explode.

"What! I literally built the last three campaigns because you couldn't come up with anything, I came up with the plan to defeat Vecna and...you glare at him, this is what it's about isn't it. You hate that I can come up with the ideas for campaigns and because I'm good at the game. Of all the idiotic, sexist bullshit...

Ethan blushes. "Look, I want to see if Eddie would let me and the guys join Hellfire and maybe he might let me DM sometimes but if he finds out that you helped make up most of them well...

So you're kicking me out to save yourself the apparent humiliation of a girl being better at D&D than you are" he flushes pink and glares at you.

"Whatever. We'll be fine without you. Good riddance" he storms off by that point leaving you alone and tearful. You're just so pissed that you have to leave the group, leave something you love playing.

There's a gentle pressure on your shoulder and you find Robin looking at you concerned. "What was that about? Did he do something to hurt you? I could ask Steve to kick his ass, unless you want to kick his ass yourself which is great and all and...

She stops talking when she sees one silent tear run down your cheek which you wipe away furiously, nope you will not cry because of that gargoyle Ethan.

"Robin breathe, and yeah I'm okay. I mean I will be" you explain everything that happened and by the end Robin is as angry as you are.

"He can't just kick you out, what a douchebag, how exactly is he going to explain away the fact he has no amazing ideas for campaigns without you there?

You should talk to Eddie and join Hellfire yourself, he's actually a nice guy well according to the Steve's child/brother friend. The dingus is jealous of Eddie which is kind of sweet and hilarious..." She cuts off her rant at the growing smile on your face.

"Oh no, I know that look" you grin widens and you link arms with Robin. Yes you'll join Eddie and expose Ethan for the slimy ass that he is.

❤️

With the idea in mind you decide to ask Eddie before Hellfire starts but instead find yourself walking into a session which is in full swing. Well shit. Way to make a good impression...

Eddie stops talking, he's in the middle of the campaign, just at the part where a group of rogue trolls have invaded the party and turned the gathering of friends at a tavern into a fight for survival.

"Yes... Uh cheerleader tryouts are the other way sweetheart" You scoff and raise your eyebrows at him.

"Do I look like a cheerleader to you? I'm sorry to interrupt. I wanted to catch you before you started the session, I was wondering if I could join Hellfire?"

You know Jeff from being in drama with him and he's the first to say, "Uh aren't you in that group with Ethan and George?" You shake your head.

"I was. Until they kicked me out" Eddie's big brown eyes widened and the annoyed expression was wiped from his face, he ignored the complaints of some of the freshmen and motioned you to explain.

"Ethan kicked me out because he's an arrogant, sexist troll" one of the freshmen groans and gestures widely to Eddie.

"Dude, can we hurry up and continue with the session" Eddie holds a hand up to quieten him and stares at you his eyes filled with grudging curiosity.

"Why did he kick you out?" You frown and the anger returns at Ethan and his betrayal.

"Because he wants to join up with you and impress you with his amazing DM skills which are a load of shit. He didn't even organise the last three campaigns, I did. He liked to use all of my ideas but won't have me blow his chances of pretending he's something he isn't" there's silence and Eddie looks impressed.

There's also something else in his expression that makes your stomach feel like it's doing somersaults but you can examine that later.

"So you're here to join instead before the little weasel does. Beat him at his own game huh sweetheart?" you nod and he smiles, all dimples.

"Well yeah basically, I love D&D but I also want to annoy the hell out of the asshole as well, he's just pissed that I came up with a campaign for Vecna and doesn't want me showing you how much he doesn't do for his own group" you finish your rant and wait for his answer.

Eddie's smiling by the end of your rant and gestures you over to the group.

"I like you, you can sit in and watch this session because we're more than halfway through but I'm happy for you to join the group and our next meeting. You can tell me about your stats and character after the session is over"

Thrilled you walk over to the table and Eddie barks at one of the guys to move so you're standing right beside him.

It was so not time for your heart to be doing its own version of a mini-marathon at the mere sight of Eddie's big brown eyes capturing yours. Fuck, you did not have time for whatever this was. You were here to battle dragons, defeat trolls (in real life as well) and be a badass.

Crushing on Eddie Munson would have to wait.

❤️

Eddie is definitely planning on killing Wheeler's character in the next session. He glares as Mini Wheeler finishes his rant about last night.

"You know it's so gross the way you were mooning over her all night right? Make it more obvious that you have a crush on her dude" he whines and Eddie scowls which seems to snap Mike out of his constant whining.

"I was not mooning Wheeler. I was impressed with the way she knew what she wanted and went for it, she will be a valuable asset to Hellfire"

Gareth hides a laugh as he continues eating and Eddie redirects his glare to his friend. "Anything to say Gareth the Great?" Gareth stops laughing at once but still looks amused.

"Dude, you were totally mooning over her, I think someone's in love" Eddie can feel the heat rise on his cheeks and scoffs, how dare Gareth make such an idiotic assumption.

"Love? I don't believe in love dude. This heart is far too cynical for any of that shit. I was just intrigued that's all" he's ready to fully rant when he sees you and his heart skips a beat, argument dying in his throat and his knees turn to jelly.

"Yeah be more obvious Munson" Jeff sniggers which causes Gareth to nearly choke on his sandwich.

Okay, scratch that. He's killing Gareth and Jeff's characters too.

💞

As you walk into the cafeteria the next day you avoid your usual table and head straight for Hellfire.

You wave cheerily over at Ethan and the guys and smirk at their thunderous expressions. Eddie snorts but when you look at him there's no trace of his previous amusement as he mentions the next Hellfire session will be tomorrow.

You're distracted by Ethan glowering in your direction, his arms folded as he snaps at Dean. There's a soft pressure on your hand and you look down to find Eddie's hand touching yours, it gets your attention immediately.

"We can go over your character tonight yeah? There's a spark between the two of you, it lingers in the air and your heart kicks up a notch as Eddie lets out a little groan.

He clears his throat and moves his hand away, you hide how flustered you are as he begins to talk about the new campaign but every so often his gaze meets yours and the same level of intrigue is in his gaze as you feel for him.

💞

"Lady Emmeline is an elven princess who ran away from her duties when her parents tried to marry her off to a vile prince, she's proficient with a bow and arrow but her real talent is swordsmanship, she's intelligent, brave and bold but can be impulsive and hotheaded if provoked" you read out to Eddie who nods.

"Was she your character in your old D&D group?" Eddie asks and you nod, leaning closer to him as he pulls out his notebook. It's chock-full of ideas for campaigns and drawings, being so near Eddie is playing havoc with your concentration.

He smells like leather, the faintest hint of smoke and whatever cologne he's using. It's woody and smells divine. The softness of his usually loud voice and his big Bambi eyes are distracting. It wouldn't bother you so much or at least you'd try to avoid it but the way you catch Eddie looking at you sometimes makes you melt.

It's ridiculous because you've never felt this way before about anybody but now it's happened it's overwhelming and intense.

"Nice tattoo" you murmur and he smiles as you nod to the bats and the Wyvern. "I have more" he pulls down his Hellfire shirt and you can see a black widow spider and a glimpse of a demon.

Very gently you trace a finger over one of the bats on his forearm, Eddie's breath hitches and you curse yourself for possibly freaking him out. "Sorry," you murmur and chance a peek at his expression. It's filled with longing.

"Don't be sorry princess" he's hesitant at first but then after a moment you feel his fingers trace soft patterns over your hand. The feel of his fingers on your skin is amazing and it makes you shiver in a good way.

His eyes drop down to your lips and the two of you move closer instinctively until you're both mere inches apart.

And that's when Dustin barrels in speaking a mile a minute and you and Eddie jump apart at the interruption.

Fuck.

[pippin-katz]

Random Satisfying & Clever Moments Of Audio From Dead Boy Detectives - Part 4

There's a few moments in DBD that utilize audio really well, or use sounds that always stick out to me while watching, and these are some of those moments!

This one is a bit of longer one, and might not make sense to everyone, but I'll do my best to explain it below!

Ep. 4 - The Case of the Lighthouse Leapers: The lack of music when Charles gets up after the trauma nightmare, then the addition of just The Wellerman song as he advances on the Night Nurse.

Using sound is very important, but so is the lack of sound. The lack of music or sound effects as Charles starts winding up the music sphere creates tension. After the overwhelming amount of stimuli in his trauma nightmare, the quiet is unsettling. It is the calm before the storm; that moment when everything is too still, too quiet, and you have a gut feeling that something is wrong.

Watching Charles wind the music sphere, speaking with such conviction, yet also composure, after everything she just put him through, it's unnerving. An explosion of blind rage would be expected, not the calculated way he twists the handle, walking and talking with full clarity and awareness of the situation.

The music sphere being wound up also coincides with Charles' emotions. The Night Nurse practically did exactly that to him by forcing him through all of that pain. Charles even acknowledges that she accomplished her goal: to make him crushed and devastated. But she didn't take into account his resilience, his strength; someone else would be helpless and sobbing on the ground after what she showed him, but Charles?

He knows how it felt. He was fucking there. He knows how much it hurt. He knows how unjust and unfair his life and death were. For the Night Nurse to play it for him like a slideshow presentation, as if he needs to be taught, pisses him the fuck off. Charles is furious that this woman has the audacity to walk into his nightmares and lecture him, as if she has any comprehension or understanding of what it was like to experience it.

I think it's part of why he mentions the memories specifically when he's about to kick her: "Those memories are not why I choose to stay here!"

Charles is fully aware of what he went through, and he's moved on, or is trying to at the very least. He does not want all the horrible things that happened to him while he was alive control and influence every decision he makes. He's not that sixteen-year-old boy trembling in a corner anymore; he does not have to bend in the face of danger and injustice. He can stand up for himself, for others, and he will because he wants to. It's not to make up for some "failure" from his life. It's who Charles wants to be.

SO! Back to the audio specifically, the use of The Wellerman song is obviously fitting since the sphere was used by sailors to "calm the seas", but also because there is something inherently haunting about that tune. It's right after he says that he's angry that he pulls the pin out; after trying so hard to hold back all his anger and pain, Charles is ready to let it loose.

The beats of the scene then follow the music. From the moment the song starts to the end of the first verse, the first "segment" of the fight happens. Charles speaks, she tries to reply, he hits her, and she reacts in that timespan. There are very faint bass notes underneath the song after he's hit her. They get louder as the song progresses, reintroducing the score of the show.

When Charles takes a second swing, it's at the start of the chorus of the song.

(The difference between verse and chorus is the starting note. Verses start low and get higher; choruses start high and stay high until the very end.)

During that chorus, Charles swings and hits her; he very nearly lines up his swings with the notes, but not quite. Then he speaks once she's backed against the wall. He lets go of the music sphere in the middle of the chorus, and completes his lines up to: "I still have a purpose!" as it ends. That's the second "segment" of the fight.

The second verse starts with him making his declaration and kicking her, and it plays out as the Night Nurse falls. The second half of the verse swells into a full score version of the song instead of just the sound of it coming from the sphere. It's the third and final "segment". Charles ends the confrontation, and once Angie disappears, the song fades out.

This sequence is such a good example of knowing when to cut the music, and how to gradually reintroduce it. It enhances the uneasiness you're meant to feel while watching Charles' anger slowly escalate. It's part of what makes the whole scene so effective.

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4

(ko-fi)