#was waiting for someone to gif this but lost patience

[hermit-frog]

love how DreamStat got Louis’ expressions 

[shotmrmiller]

pornstar au

f!reader x simon 'ghost' riley

3.7k words (sorry)

tw: teacher-student relationship but it's just a scene for porn. explicit. horrifyingly so.

You burst into the classroom and stride purposefully towards your professor, who is seated in his leather chair, engrossed in his work. Impatiently tapping your foot, you waited for him to finish marking essays. However, after 5 minutes, your patience with this unbearable man ran out.

"Professor."

He hums, a deep sound coming from the back of his throat yet doesn't look up from what he's doing. A real piece of work, he is. How fucking aggravating.

"Professor Riley," your voice takes an irreverent tone.

The hand that had been writing non-stop comes to a sudden pause, and he finally directs his attention to you. Meeting your gaze, his dark eyes are hooded, his lips set in a firm line. His job is to literally deal with students, yet he dares to look annoyed.

"Are you gonna tell me what's wrong 'r am I gonna have to learn how to read minds?" he states.

Taking in a calming breath, you clench the crumpled essay in your hand. "Can you explain to me why you failed me on this? I did exactly as you asked!"

He must know precisely what you're talking about because he simply turns back to the papers on his desk.

"Tha's your problem. You did exactly as I asked, with no thought behind it. Just wrote the bare minimum, if you can even call it writin'. It's copy-paste," Professor Riley sets the pen down and leans back in the chair.

"I need ya to use tha' head o' yours when in this class. Otherwise, you'll fail the rest o' your classes too."

Fucking hell.

Professor Riley shifts in his seat, seemingly done with the conversation, and finishes, "If tha's all."

Shit. Your pause is too long, and the director calls it. Fuck.

"I'm really sorry, Ghost, I didn't mean-" Your words of apology dissolve into thin air as his strong hand finds its place on your hip— giving it a gentle, but firm squeeze.

"S'all righ', love. Mistakes happen. Matter fact," his eyes drift from you to behind you to beckon someone with two fingers. "C'mere, you."

It's the set assistant, and he's brought the script with him. Ghost swiftly stops him from handing it to you, instead pushing it onto the assistant's chest. "Won't be needin' tha', thanks. Tell the director tha' we'll be ad-libin'. Now sod off."

The assistant follows his command in haste, scurrying off to follow Ghost's instructions.

"Hey," he murmurs. Your eyes meet his, feeling the intensity of it quickens your heartbeat. "Say whatever you like, just remember to follow the storyline, alright?"

Follow the storyline. In porn. The irony isn't lost on you, but you bite the side of your gummy cheek to keep from laughing. "Yes, sir."

He drops his hand from where he held you slowly, seemingly almost reluctant to let go. "Ready?" Ghost's thin lips curl into a smirk when you nod at his question. "Good girl."

Your fingers tightly grip the flimsy material of your uniform skirt at his praise, and warmth pools in your lower belly.

His good girl.

A high-pitched voice cuts through your thoughts, signaling the restart of the shooting. You exhale a long breath, unclenching your hands in the process.

Action.

"If tha' all." Ghost reaches for his pen when you frantically grab onto his Oxford sleeve.

"Wait, Professor, please! I can't," you stammer, "I cannot fail this class! My parents would kill me if I studied abroad only to flunk. The tuition—"

His tone is authoritative as he abruptly cuts off your lengthy excuse. "Enough. Nothing can change the mark I've given you."

Your ears pricked up at his wording, and the corners of your lips pulled up into a roguish smile. "No?" Ghost stills before turning to face you, countenance blank. "Nothing at all, Professor?" With a coy tilt of your head, your wide, doe-like eyes meet his as your fingertips trace an alluring path from his forearm down to his knuckles.

"I really can't convince you in any way to change that grade for me?" You lean on the edge of his wooden desk— skirt so short it doesn't even graze the surface of it— and lightly curl your hand around his pointer finger. "It can be our little secret, Professor Riley," you purr.

Ghost lifts a single brow, and settles back into his seat, arms crossed over his barrel chest as his eyes travel from your feet to your exposed cleavage, fixating on the soft skin peeking out from your uniform top.

"Please?" his hushed voice reverberates inside your skull. "I promise to be a good girl."

That catches his attention, eyes flashing to yours, the fire behind them hot— you hope it burns you.

"'Sat, right? Tha' changes things now, doesn't it?" Ghost rolls his chair back, away from his desk, and spreads his thick legs apart in invitation, arms resting on the rests— the dictionary definition of casual. "Convince me then, pet."

"Yes, sir." Sauntering to stand in between his legs, you swallow thickly— the bulge in his groin was quite frankly, intimidating. You've had large, but this was in a league of its own.

"You gonna do it from up there? I know I'm bigger than average but not tha' big." A huff escapes from your lips. A whole comedian.

Knees pressed into the cold, tile floor, you expertly undo the button of his trousers and with his help, pulled them down along with his pants— just enough for his cock to spring free.

Bloody fucking hell.

His cock is monstrous. It rested against his belly, heavy and thick. The pink tip slightly peeking from under his foreskin. There was a groomed thatch of coarse hair at the base, and his balls were also heavy— one hanging lower than the other.

Ghost leans forward and cradles the underside of your jaw with one large hand, fingers gently caressing the delicate skin of your cheek, while the other pumps his rigid cock in anticipation. "Not scared, are ya?" His grin was wicked. "I promise it don't bite."

Grabbing his wrist, you maneuver his hand so that his thumb now rests on your soft lips. "Might not, but I do, Professor." And catch the tip of his finger between your blunt teeth, the subtle sting of it making him hiss.

"Perfect, pretty girl," he says, almost inaudible. His words of praise are for you alone— not for the scene, nor the camera. You peer up at him through your lashes, mewling softly at the expression on his face.

His brow was set, hooded eyes sultry, a rosy hue across his cheeks and nose, and lips parted as he panted quietly.

Delicious.

Ghost then pushes his thumb further into your slick mouth and hooks it behind your bottom teeth, delicately pulling you closer to him as he tips his head down— taking his thumb out with a pop. His warm breath fans across your face as he moves closer until his lips connect with yours. He slid his tongue into your mouth, tasting of frosty mint and his own unique taste.

Your hands come up, fingers digging into the meat of his thighs when he grasps your wrist and moves it to the focal point of his desire— his breath hitching when you give his cock a firm squeeze. Ghost bites your bottom lip before breaking away, a guttural noise escaping him when you begin to stroke him. "Tighten your hand around—" he breaks off, moaning against your kiss-swollen lips when you comply.

He threads his fingers through your hair that sits at the base of your skull, curling them into a fist and tugging back— craning your neck, hair pulled taut.

"So obedient. Jus' f'me, love?" you hum cheekily, a mischievous grin spreading across your face.

"Would you hold it against me if I said no?" he chuckles under his breath, the grip on your hair tightening marginally.

"I'd say tha' you're lyin'." He sucks in a breath when you press down lightly onto his slit with your thumb. "Cheeky."

He loosens the hold he has on you, feeling your scalp prickle with tender relief, and relaxes back into the chair. "All yours, sweetheart."

That light wasn't getting any greener, so with a grunt, you shifted your weight, ignoring your aching knees, and wrapped your lips around his cock.

Barely.

The salty bite of his arousal and musk spread on your tongue as you took him in deep, stilling once he hit the back of your throat.

"Fuck, look at me."

Slightly tipping your head back, you do as he says, your throat closing around him as he slips in even further.

"Fuckfuckfuck," a hiss, "such a hot little mouth, just swallowin' me righ' up." Your lungs burn with the lack of oxygen, forcing you to pull back to gasp for air. Ghost squeezes himself at the base and taps your cheek with his saliva-coated length.

"A dirty slag like you, jus' takin' me like a professional. Tha' what you are? A professional cock sucker, love?" he taunts. Your pussy clenches when he calls you a slag, pressing your thighs together in the hope of some friction; Something to alleviate the throbbing ache in between your legs.

Ghost with eyes as keen as ever, notices. Damn.

"Oh? Little harlot likes to get degraded, does she? Reminded of her place? How I'd love to teach you exactly where you belong, but tha' wouldn't be you convincin' me to change your bad grade, now would it?"

His cock taps on your swollen lips. "Another time, hm? Now open. Make me see reason."

Ghost's wish is your command. With enthusiasm, you take him in your mouth, slowly bobbing your head, place a hand right under your lips, and twist with every push and pull.

It's sloppy, spit covering your hand, dripping down to his balls. Your jaw aches, a burning pressure a little under your ear, but what gives you the strength to continue is the loud moans coming from Ghost. He holds nothing back, his hand engulfing the crown of your head while he gently pushes you down. A performer down to his very bones.

You were about to pause the recording, the pain in your mandible and knees almost becoming too much when he suddenly pulled you off of him.

"Wha—?" Ghost seizes you by the upper arms, forcibly bringing you to your feet, disregarding your pained whimper, and places you on the sturdy desk.

He's curling his fingers into the waistband of your frilly knickers, slipping them down your legs and pocketing them. There's a quiet popping sound when he bends his knees, going eye level with your bare cunt.

In a hushed tone, you say, "This isn't part of the scene." Ghost drags his eyes from your glistening slit to your face, gaze suffocating, smothering the very air in your lungs.

"Just a taste, love." He curls one hand under your thigh, lifting it to perch it on the edge of the desk, the other he throws over his strong shoulder. The only sound in the room is your soft moans as he expertly slides his warm tongue through your slick folds, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

By god does he eat pussy like it's his job. Peering down at him, you can't stop the sounds that spill from your mouth when his tongue visibly splits your pussy lips open, flicking at your clit, lapping up your arousal like it is honey. You take hold of his short hair, tugging at the strands as each swirl of his talented tongue pushes you closer to your peak.

His eyes cut to yours when he presses a thick finger into you, drinking in your desperate expression as you keen, begging for more, blabbering about it being so good, yet not enough, please god more.

Ghost curls his finger, only taking a second to find your sweet spot, and pushes— bursts of light flashing in your peripheral vision. You begin to rock your hips unconsciously, chasing your ecstasy, and Ghost simply flattens his tongue, letting you grind against it.

You teeter on the edge of bliss, a tightening in your stomach, right under where his finger is. Shaky exhales leave you, the leg that's on the desk visibly trembling from the tension that threatens to snap you in half.

He presses a kiss to your sodden pussy, and croons, "Gonna come f'me?" You jerkily nod.

"Yes fuck yes, I'm gonna come for you, just for you, Professor Riley pleaseee—" your blathering turns into a high-pitched squeal as he lightly sucks on your pearl, hips lifting off the desk as a blinding orgasm crashes into you, pleasure bursting through your very core, cunt pulsating with every wave of ecstasy around Ghost's finger.

He wastes no time in rising to his feet and slotting his mouth over yours, the taste of your slick strong, potent on his tongue. Ghost breaks away, his breath smelling of your desire. "Exquisite, like ambrosia. Addicting."

Ghost's hand cups your sensitive quim and whispers, "Think you can take me? Tha' orgasm took a lot outta ya."

Silly question. "I'm a big girl, Ghost. I can take it."

He licks the front of his teeth and glances down to where his hand rests. "Course you can, love. Turn around f'me."

Your movements are sluggish as you turn over onto your stomach, rising to the tip of your toes as you present yourself to him.

Ghost grabs the sides of your waist, and flips your skirt up, tucking the edge into the waistband of it. His hands palm your cheeks, thumbs digging into the meat of your ass to spread you open, completely exposed to him.

"Fuck me if tha' isn't the prettiest sight I've ever had the pleasure of seein'." He doesn't acknowledge your scoff as he spreads your hands out, placing them flat on the table— enveloping your hand with his own, intertwining his fingers with yours.

His leans over your semi-prone body, cock gently prodding at your entrance, gliding easily through your folds. "Ready?"

Arching your back, his tip slips inside, just barely. That's your answer.

You can hear the smarmy grin that spreads on his face, and wanted to snark back but you're rendered mute when he pushes in. Your eyes cross at the stretch of his cock, a feeling so sublime you know that no one will ever be able to duplicate. Your fingers tighten around his as you mewl when he bottoms out, hips flush against your arse.

Ghost sucks in a breath through his teeth when you shift your weight, and whatever you did has him sliding in deeper— turning his hiss into a guttural groan. "Fuck, you have no fuckin' idea how good you feel."

Probably not, but you have every idea how good he feels.

"You okay, love? Took me so well like you were made jus' f'me. So warm and soft, tight like a vice around my cock. Pretty pussy split wide open, stuffed full of me." He speaks unfettered filth to you, dripping over your ears like molasses, thick and syrupy. Your head feels heavy on your shoulders— dizzy, drunk on his scent, his cock that's got you tearing at the seams.

Then he begins to move, pulling out until an inch remains inside, and pushing in until he's nudging the plug of your womb, feeling a deep pinch under your navel.

This is what it's like to get fucked by Ghost. The one everyone covets after, hoping he drags down the very heavens with his bare hands and lays it at their feet. And here he is, fucking you. A newbie, a fresh face no one knows yet, a name that'll probably never grace the front page.

You doubt his motives are altruistic, but goddamn does it not matter; Not with the way he's carving a space inside of you that only he will ever fit in, or the way he's curling his free hand around your neck, thumb pressed right over your racing pulse.

He lowers himself until his strong chest is to your back, his teeth nipping the tip of your ear. "The moment I saw you gettin' fucked by Johnny, I knew I had t'have ya." Your walls clamp down on him involuntarily, wrenching a pained noise from him. "Fuckin' hell, I knew this pussy would be magical."

Ghost's lips skim over the shell of your ear before pressing a chaste kiss on it. "Lemme hear how good I make ya feel, pet. Don't hold back on me now." He grinds into your arse, going in so deep that it feels like he's trying to push past the entrance of your womb. "S'alrigh'. I'll jus' have t'pull 'em outta ya."

He releases you, placing both hands flat on the desk, on either side of your shoulders. "Take em for myself, make 'em mine." Straightening all the way, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your waist.

"What a view. Perfection." He rolls his hips, rhythm languid, loud squelching noises coming from where he fills you. "Drippin' cream all over my cock, pet. Can't tell me this isn't 'cause of me."

How the fuck can he still talk? How is he coherent? Why isn't his brain turned into mush like yours is?

"Fuckin' ya speechless, am I? Oh, sweetheart, but I'm barely gettin' started." Ghost slowly pulls out, and curls his hand around your shoulder, nudging you to turn over. "On your back, now."

You lazily flip over, hair sticking to your sweat-slick skin, and he hooks his arms underneath your legs and drags you to the edge until your arse hangs from it. "I wanna see that pretty face when you come." He wastes no time in sheathing himself back inside your swollen channel, walls fluttering at the invasion.

Ghost hooks one leg over his shoulder to lean forward, pinning you to the desk with his upper body, and maneuvers your other to wrap around his wide waist. "That cock drunk look on your face makes my balls tighten, what a fuckin' expression you've got, christ," he growls. "Knowin' I put it there makes it all the better."

He gives you a chaste kiss on the lips and gives you a smile that is all teeth. "Now let's make you sing."

Grunting, he straightens. plants his feet firmly, stance wide, and begins to fuck you. The videos of the famed Ghost you saw are nothing, nothing, in comparison to real life. His full weight is behind every spine-jarring thrust, it makes your teeth clack, it rattles your brain inside your skull. He does it so perfectly because at no point do you feel any discomfort, not even a twinge. It's all a pleasure that blazes, an all-encompassing heat that threatens to swallow you whole, burn you from the inside out.

His cock punches the breath out of your lungs, wails clawing out of your throat, and it's so good, so fucking good— god, maybe he is god, you don't know, everything is so blurry, hazy—

All senses focus on the sudden touch between your legs, an expert thumb drawing tight circles on your slippery clit and there's no way you're going to survive this—

"There she is, the girl I saw in the video. Tha's an expression I see in myfuckin' sleep. Give me what's mine, pet. Let me feel you, cream all over my cock."

He's relentless in his pursuit of your climax, a wave of pleasure so intense, it just might drag you out to sea, drowning you.

Ghost, the fucking god of sex, stops his ministrations to spit on your pussy. Spit. From his full height, a glob of warm saliva drops to your mons, and he smears it with his fingers over your pussy lips before rubbing your clit. His thrusts slow in pace, turning into a firm snap of his hips, making sure you feel every ridge of his cock, and in less than a minute, your spine arches off the desk.

Your mouth opens into a silent scream, lids snapping shut as you break underneath him, warmth gushing from where he's continuously sinking into you, a steady, slow rhythm that never ends.

"Came all over me, didn't ya? Bet you didn't know you could even do tha'."

You didn't.

"Jus' for tha', I'm gonna give you somethin' in return, yeah? A little reward for bein' so good," he praises.

Your tongue is heavy in your mouth, swollen and thick, and unconsciousness creeps at the very edges of your mind.

All you can do is lie there and take it, his sloppy thrusts, his harsh panting until he moans, "'m close, so fuckin' close," and with whatever remnants of strength you have left, you use to squeeze him tightly— unwilling to let go because his come is yours now, you've earned it.

"Come in me, Ghost," you whimper.

That does it. He slams his hands on either side of your head and borderline roars out his release, cock twitching inside of your used cunt, filling you with his spend.

Cut.

Ghost's breathing is labored, a harsh pant that fans over your overheated skin, damp with sweat.

His brows are furrowed, his eyes squeezed shut, gulping in air and shivering in the aftershock of his climax.

To be fucked by Ghost is to see the Garden of Eden behind your eyelids.

Now you understand. You understand why he has no equal. He is unparalleled.

Jesus Christ, you're fucked. So, so fucked.

He slowly opens his eyes and peers down at you with a wolfish grin.

"Perfection."

--

A week later, your video with Ghost is the most viewed on the entire website. Not one other video even scratches the bottom of where your video sits.

Ghost truly is the king.

Curiously enough, your friend is the one who lets you know that Mr. life-altering cock himself never kisses during work. Not once in any video of his has he ever kissed, apart from a short pressing of lips to skin.

Your heart traitorously flutters at the thought of it meaning something more. Catching feelings when you get fucked for a living is not the move. But there's no stopping it from misbehaving, especially when you receive another script, to make another video with Ghost.

Another. one.

Fuck. Fuck!!

You cannot wait.

@mishaglass

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

Kitten | The Salesman x Fem!Reader

Summary: Something about you catchs his eyes. Now he wants you all for himself.

Warnings: Obsess!Salesman - Canon violence - Suggestive - Manipulation - Reader loves cats - Maybe OOC - Kind of pet play - E/C = eye color - Reader gets called Kitten -

Another morning, another day ahead, names to meet and recruit, a speech that was deep in his mind.

His movements were calculated, robotic, his smile a fake one, to hide the disgust he felt towards the peopel he had to met.

The last hour, the last train and last name. Your name. The Salesman did his usual thing while waiting for you to appear, get himself a coffee from a cheap machine and let his mind wonder.

Even if he had read your file in order to have the upper hand in the exchange, he was curious to see how you truly were, how would you react to his approach, what would you say or do once he told you about the game.

Maybe the work of the day was getting him, his eyes did let (only for the observant ones) that he was tired to not degree.

One more, one more worm and I can go home.

The train came, lots of faces walked pass him, he only wanted to find yours and put an end to his day.

Finally He saw you, you were looking at your phone, smiling? Well he guessed even someone in your situation could smile.

Maybe you got a lover back home.

He saw how you took a seat, most likely to rest after a long day at your underpaid work, that did not cover any of the debts you had. Yet you did not look discouraged or sad, you were rather animated by what your body language gave out.

Feets moving side to side like a song was playing only for you. That smile and a spark in your eyes...

How dumb yet cute.

Still, he needed to end the day and your name was the last one. So there he went, moving with confidence till he took a seat besides you, his trusted briefcase close.

"Miss.." He tried to get your attention but nothing, you were too deep in your phone writing something. He dared to take a look.

What in-

Cats. Multiple pictures of cats. Different colors, shapes and ages.

It was not the most strange thing he had seen from someones phone but still...

A new photo came in, it was a cat, rather slim with one leg missing but it seemed full of life.

"Im glad you are fine" He hear your whisper thanks to the sitation now out of peopel and that even if you whispered it was rather loud. Most likely you had no sense of self preservation or did check your surroundings since he was able to basically see your phone screen and your messages for...four minutes?

Yes, defently too much for the little patience he had, he wanted to end his day now.

"Excusme Miss" He tried again this time louder and it did finally caught your attention.

You turned to him, too lost checking your cats and how they were doing so far. You never noticed the man besides you. He was tall, black hair and wearing a suit. You could tell it was a rather expensive one, at his feets was a briefcase.

Ah Salesman, he must sells life saves or something.

"Sorry Sir, im in no position to buy anything" You said looking at his dark eyes and bowing then you went back to check your phone.

Well someone ignoring him was not a first.

"Miss, im not here to sell you anything" He started getting your attention back with a rather funny and confused look on your face. "Im here to ask you to play a game with me"

"...A game?" You asked not really beliving your ears. What man would ask a stranger to play a game with them at 11 p.m. in a subway station?

Was this a scam ? A trap maybe ?

Ah, the confusion, he was used to get that too and could only give you a polite fake smile back.

"Yes a game, a game of ddakji" He clarifited pulling from his suit pocket two papper pieces, one blue and other red. "If you manage to win I will give you ₩100.000" He recite just as he always did.

Your eyes opened a bit after that information, while it would not help you that much it would be free money...you could get a warm dinner, something that your current situation did not let you do.

But, there was not a thing as simple as free money, right ? There must be a catch.

"And what would happen if I lose?" You asked him, the hesitation in your voice was clear for The Salesman who just smiled again.

"If you lose, you pay me back ₩100,00. But I doubt you will lose in a childs game" He added trying to incite you to engage in the game.

He studied your face, you were thinking about it, temped by it. Even if the money was not enough, the chance was all it needed to start a chain of thoughts in your mind and finally accept.

And while you were indeed thinking a ring from your phone took your attention away, a new message a new cat pic.

Right, I cant do this. You thought.

"Sorry Sir I must refuse" You started giving him a bow "Even if my chances of winning were high, Im not in position to give you ₩100,000 if I lose. It would not be fair to you" You smiled at him thinking all of this was ending.

He blinked a bit taken back, not because you refused, he had deal with that before, but what you said.

Fair.

The world was not fair. The information in your file let that clear, it was obvious that you knew it.

Then why not take advantage of this? Even If he was just giving you the illusion of money, why not try ? And more, why be worried over whats fair ?

"May I ask why you cant play with me?" He finally said, pulling the pappers back inside his suit pocket. "Its not a big amount of money and I would not make fun of you if you lose"

He was trying for you to feel safe, maybe you were nervous he would judge you ? He knew he could be quiet intimidating

"Oh! Well its rather...embarrassing" You responded, nervously biting your lower lip then looking at the ground.

The Salesman's eyes lingered over your lips, the way you just bite them. Maybe he was getting tired but something from that action  just called him, made his body react.

"It cant be that bad" He tried again, trying to sound gentle

"Well, im in debt because my ex-boyfriend ran away with the money for the Cat Shelter we had together, took away all my savings and I ended in debt cause of it" Your tone did let him know you were angry, sad, frustrated and ashamed.

Well, he did know. But hearing out loud did make it sound funnier he could not lie to himself.

But seeing your face now, that sad look and how you had looked so happy earlier at the cat pics (probably some cats you managed to save and find a home before all things went wrong). It made him feel bad for you, something he never felt towards anyone in his line of work.

"Mhm so your ex-boyfriend ran away and then you kept the shelter by yourself?"

He cant lie, it was a cute reason.

But stupid no less.

"I did, we had too many cats and all of them were sick. They needed someone, I could not ignore them" You tried to explain, a sad smile now on your face as you remember the old promises and memories.

And look where that took you.

"I dont hope that you get it, most peopel laughts when I tell them. Even the load sharks had got a good one" You said pulling out your phone and looking at something while the Salesman let his mind wonder.

You were right. He did not get it. It was something he would never do, an act so compassionate towards a creature...it was not in his nature.

"Look, this is Fat Luigi" He hear you said as you showed him your phone with the image of a big fluffy black cat. "When we first got him he was underwheight, most vets told us he would not make it. It was hard, I passed many nights awake taking care of him, and spent lots of money on him. But now seeing him healthy and happy, it just makes it worth it"

"But are you happy right now? Arent you afraid of your debts?" He asked, curious to know how your brain was working under the stress you most likely had.

"Happy...., well I cant say I love my life right now, I work long hours and the job its bad, I have load sharks on my back and the place where the shelter is will most likely be destroyed since I cant pay..."

He nodded listening to you.

"But im not sad. Yes the situation sucks but when i see the cats i managed to help...honestly even if it sounds crazy, I would do it again" You ended giving him a tired yet honest smile. One that made his heart beat a bit faster.

For a few moments he did not say a thing, his mind wondering, he was not sure what, something about you made him feel slighty different.

Maybe it was your wish to help ? Even when you had passed and suffered ? How you still wanted to play fair ?

You two were different in many ways.

"You would?" He asked seeing you nodd without thinking "And tell me, do I look like a cat person ? Would you get me one if you still had your shelter ?" He continued now trying to entertain himself.

You defenetly were not made for the games.

"Well, you do give the energy of a cat person" By the look on his face he was amused "I mean, you seem like you pass many hours outside your home, cats do need their humans but they can work fine alone for a few hours, you would need to pet them for a bit once you get back"

"Oh I see, and what more?" He leaned in closer, his elbow resting on his knee, one hand holding his face as he turned himself to you invading your personal space.

"You seem like someone who will prefer company thats not always over them demanding attention and cats often give you that, well depends on the cat" You explained blushing at his proximity.

"Then, dont you think it would be better for me to get a kitten?"

"They can be handfull-"

"Mhm, I would need a submissive one" He said leaning even closer, you could now see his dark eyes and smell his cologne. "One that will wait for me at home and will...please me when I want it and how I want it"

His hand went towards your face slowly touching your cheeck with his knuckles, it made you blush even more and be more aware of him. Something was telling you that this was dangerous, this man who had approach you, and yet you could not get yourself to move.

"Maybe a kitten with (E/C), a bit dumb, stupid, has no sense of self preservation, needs help to do anything. But" He paused his eyes studying your face "But its also cute, on its way"

You did not respond. Mouth dry, your mind worked around his cryptid words. Was him...insinuating something?

"How big its your debt?" He asked keeping the small distance.

"Too big" you responded your voice letting out how nervous you were. It was a miracle you managed to get these words out.

He smirked, he knew the exact number and also, he loved knowing he was the one causing you to feel nervous, maybe you were scared?

The idea that he could be scaring you excited him.

"Tell you what, I will pay your debt" He saw the suprise in your face and disbelief  was impossible to hide "But, you must pay me back" He added moving his hand, his thumb now over your lower lip. "You can pay me with your body, I said I should get a kitten right? I believe you are perfect for that position. All you will have to do.." He trailed off forcing his thumb inside your mouth "Its obey me, when I tell you to do something I expect you to obey. If you dont behave, well lets say I can be very creative with my punishments"

He could see the terror in your eyes but also the combination of hope and arousment.

Sick cute thing, just what he needed

"Mhm, lets give it a try shall we? Suck my thumb like a good kitten, I want to see how well you can obey"

Timidly under his dark stare and big pupils your tongue touched his thumb, a shiver went down his spine as he felt it. Your wet tongue licking his finger trying to give it as much attention as you could.

The Salesman moved it around your tongue, almost groaning when he saw you close your eyes and use one hand to take his arm, like you were grounding yourself. He felt a bulge starting to form and couldn't wait to see how wet you were getting.

Abruptly he took off his finger from your mouth taking your neck and kissing you, it was demanding and not loving. He sucked on your lower lip till you moaned and he used this chance to push his tongue into you, caressing yours and sucking it. Needing to hear you moan one more time for him.

What came first were the sounds of steps, The Salesman separated, breathing hard, just like you. Your face was red and eyes wide open and also full with lust. He moved his hair giving you a twisted smile getting up and taking your hand.

"W-wait were are we going?" You asked at him confused by all of the exchange, "Will you really pay my debt?"

"Oh I will my kitten, you will have your loved shelter back and will be able to rescue all the dam cats in Seoul" He said opening the bathroom of the sitation checking that it was empy.

"But first, I need you to take care of something" He said pointing at the bulge between his legs.

He did not miss how you licked your lips.

"Dont worry, I will get you a collar later, now. Get on your knees and show me just how well you can suck, kitten"

[01zfan]

sweetheart | l. at

nerd!anton x nerd!reader | 5.1k words

a request i got and it kinda made me go a little insane.

contains: anton pretends to be an insecure little nerd to plot on the reader, fingering, reader is implied to be a virgin

Anton is a sweetheart. He’s non assuming and soft spoken, so quiet that he has to clear his throat each time he speaks. He’s kind, always extending the same tenderness and patience to people he received as a child. He’s one of the few men in his program that the girls didn’t have trouble approaching if they had a question or trouble with an assignment. 

Each time anyone approached him with a question he was helpful, pushing his thick frames up his face before leaning to the paper. With a pencil he’d mark where the mistake was, and explaining it with a gentle voice that had girls leaning in even closer. 

After they got a smell of his cologne and the look of his soft skin everything else was easy. The girls would tilt their heads in curiosity about Anton, intrigued at how someone so shy made it this far in life. How someone was so cute from afar but something more once you got close. All he had to do was avoid their eyes and chew his lip a few times before they were sliding their phones over to him.

Just in case I need help with another assignment.

Anton’s eyes would always widen in shock. Not from the surprise of being pursued but just how easy it all was. The girls never found out that Anton was red in the face from the rush and he ducked his head to hide a smile of satisfaction. They would laugh lightly seeing his reaction, observing what they thought was insecurity. Before going on about their day they’d touch his shoulder or pull on him playfully.

Anton is a sweetheart.

But he also has a problem.

He knows he does. His friends compared it to a sweet tooth that bordered addiction, or someone who would walk into a casino with a twenty dollar bill expecting to hit big. They sometimes even called Anton a psychopath when he’d get all giddy telling them about his day. 

Anton knew he had a problem, but it was hard to stop when he got the sweet fix or hit the jackpot each time. Nothing could top the feeling of euphoria Anton would get when he’d come to one of those girls after they asked him to come to their place. He’d look at the messages in the comfort of his room and smile, knowing what it meant when they’d preface the study session by saying they were alone. He’s addicted to the game he’d play every time, faking the shy and insecure nerd that pretty girls were going to eat for dinner. Like they were throwing him a bone by inviting him to their apartment or dorm under the guise of doing homework. 

They’d answer the door in something easy to take off or something that would cling to them like a second skin. If they were particularly desperate it’d be both, yoga pants that showed everything and a cropped shirt that rode up with every movement. Anton loved shamelessly gawking at the girls behind his glasses, shuffling from foot to foot in front of them before they invited him in. He waited for each direction, eyes darting around their room before he was invited to sit down or told to take out his notebook. He would purposefully be a step behind, showing how lost he was to be in a room that didn’t belong to him or his other intraverted friends.

He loved letting the girls make the first move. On their bed settling in as they really got a look at him in the setting of their room. Something about how clueless he was made the girls all the more strung up. He looked everywhere but at them, shrinking himself on their bed. His timidness made the girls love making the first subtle touch on his flexed arm, or purposefully grabbing his pencil so they could compare hand sizes. Anton loved acting like he was nervous wreck from the longing stares to the side of his face, like he hadn’t done this dance a million times before. He loved messing up his words while trying to act oblivious to the hungry look in their eyes. He loved the pretty smile the girls would get like he was the one falling into their trap. 

His absolute favorite part was when they’d turn his head with their soft hands. Anton would falter from the eye contact, letting his lips part in confusion as they focused on him. The notebooks and assignments between them long forgotten as they shuffled closer to him on the bed.

“Have you ever been with a girl before?” 

They’d always ask that. Voices light and airy, already having an answer in their mind.

“I have.” 

He’d always answer with a stutter. The falter in his voice never made them push any further. They assumed by Anton’s darting eyes that the number was so minuscule asking about it would only embarrass him. 

(He stopped being embarrassed of his conquests a long time ago. He also stopped being able to keep track.)

Anton is a sweetheart, with a problem of seeing pretty girls eyes flash when they realize that he is more than capable.

The moment was always the same. The mood in the room would change when Anton would sheepishly take off his oversized hoodie. Each time silence would settle over the room when they saw what he was hiding underneath. His undershirt hugged close to his body, showing the chisel and the hard work he put in at the gym. When he was feeling tired while working out he’d replay the sight of the girls taking in his toned body. They’d reach out to touch his chest as if they were expecting it all to be fake, other times they would just let out a breathless wow.

He always basked in seeing the girls try to maintain their composure. They would become the ones averting their eyes and stumbling over their words. They would be shellshocked on their side of the bed, wondering what else he was hiding. But Anton was still sweet, he always was. He would always wait patiently to see if this was really what the girls wanted. He would pick at the seam of his pants and look down to the forgotten homework to let them know they could go back to what they were doing and pretend this never happened. But the obvious bulge in his pants always made pretty girls reach for the waistband of their pants without a second thought.

Anton was never sure if they gawked at him in an attempt to get his confidence up or if they were truly surprised. As if his build and height were no indicator, each time Anton took off his pants to reveal his dick they were always so shocked. That’s when the resolve would truly fall, when their jaws would drop and they’d blink their eyes from the sheer surprise. Precum would leak from his tip just from the sight of them coming to terms with what was twitching and red and angry in front of them.

“You’re big.”

The infliction in their voice was always different. Some girls would be excited, others would be confused, a few times they almost seemed disgusted. Like there was no way the shy kid in the back of the class was hiding this.

“Am I really?” 

Anton wasn’t an idiot. Even if he said it looking down at the bed, he knew that he was endowed and it was pretty. But sometimes he just needed to hear it an extra time, or look up to see a quick head nod when they couldn’t fathom saying it again. He was an insecure nerd after all. The quiet recluse in the back of class that barely had friends. An absolute sweetheart that threw girls around and manipulated their bodies into positions they didn’t even know about.

He loved being a good fuck. For a long time he believed he was put on the Earth to fuck pretty girls and to stop them from judging books by their covers. Anton was killing two birds with one stone by cooing at girls condescendingly while he gave them everything. It was his civic duty to exert his strength and to kiss girls until they were breathless and his glasses fogged. Each time he heard I didn’t know you had that in you an angel gained it’s wings. Whenever they’d tell their girlfriends what the shy nerd did to them in their dorm Anton was making the world a better place. Sometimes he would get called back, sometimes he would run through entire friend groups just to prove he was really committed to the cause. 

No matter how many people Anton fucked, no one seemed to believe it. Like it was collective psychosis that the nerd was a good lay, or a big open secret everyone was hush about. Anton was still treated like he was meek, his soft nature made everyone believe he was an open book, so much to the point that they made wrong judgements about his character. He actually hated staying inside and enjoyed exploring the city and trying new things with his friends. He was a sensitive person but he could also advocate for himself and admit when he was wrong. He was quiet, but only because he valued personal, quiet conversations more than anything. 

He eventually learned that people’s preconceived notions of him couldn’t be helped. Anton could fuck the entirety of the campus and people would still treat him like he was made of glass. He decided to be an optimist, finding the silver lining in people assuming he was the sweetheart with a cute smile. Their perception of him could’ve been worse, being shy was infinitely better than being loud and obnoxious. So when people would assume things about Anton’s personality he would only react positively. He would let his eyes go wide, acting shocked when someone would tell him about their first impression of him. 

“I thought you were an asshole at first.”

You told Anton nonchalantly, as if his whole world didn’t crumble. You didn’t even spare him a second glance as you wrote on your lab report. You were too busy adjusting the calculations and reading over the proper way to dispose the chemicals a million times to make sure it was right while Anton sputtered to himself. He was caught off guard by your honesty and surprisingly quick answer as if it was on the forefront of your mind. You only tilted your head up for a second before you had the answer. 

Anton didn’t know what to do about you. Just when he thought he had seen every girl in his major you came along, sitting in the back of class with him. You seemed to be the recluse of a person everyone mistook Anton for. You were in and out of class, not bothering to raise your hand during discussions or to socialize with your peers. You also didn’t seem to latch onto him like other girls of his major did. When they looked for Anton’s face in the lecture hall you walked right past him, not bothering to look up from your notebook or laptop. For the first time in his life Anton felt compelled to make the first move. He thought that you two had built up a good rapport, and that you saw him as your kindhearted and resigned classmate.

But you saw him as anything but that. You said it confidently too, and loud enough for your classmates at the next lab table to look over.

“What do you mean?” Anton said quietly.

You frowned looking up from the pamphlet. You were visibly annoyed, you even motioned to the undisposed chemicals to show him that you two still had class.

“Can we talk about this when our grade isn’t at stake, please?” You asked.

You weren’t commanding for his benefit. You weren’t taking into account that he might be afraid to hear a negative opinion about himself. You weren’t looking at him like girls had before, like you were trying to pick him apart for your own entertainment. You were willing to put validation for Anton on the back burner because you had other things to do. When Anton would have girls gush over him you were benevolent, indifferent to his fake insecurities. 

The more you paid attention to your work rather than him, Anton found himself scrambling. He was working hard for your affection. When the teacher announced that class was over and lab reports were due the next morning he leapt at the chance to invite himself over. He was supposed to be shy and insecure, getting nervous over the mere thought of being alone with the opposite sex. His facade went over your head. Instead, Anton watched you do the cost-benefit analysis of inviting him over before you shrugged your shoulders.

“Alright. Just follow me.” You said before setting a ridiculously fast paced speed walk to the other side of campus.

But Anton followed you. He bobbed and weaved through crowds and essentially chased you across the common area while you continued on your pace. Other girls would walk with Anton, trying to pry information out from his clammy hands. You barely spared a second glance over your shoulder like you were trying to lose him. Anton followed you all the way to your dorm, then up the stairs, then waited for you beside your door as you put your backpack on your desk and pulled up a chair next to yours. You didn’t extend an invitation towards Anton to take a seat. 

He waits for you to step in. He’s laid the trap by taking off his hoodie even though you kept your room cold, and shuffled his seat closer to yours. He put his elbows on the table next to yours coming closer to the lines you stopped writing on your paper.

He laid the trap. He can see you hesitate, looking from him to the assignment and then back to him. Anton keeps his eyes on the paper, rubbing his fingers over his lips to stop himself from smiling.

“Do you work out?” You asked.

Your voice didn’t have the sultry infliction that girls usually had when they asked him that question. You didn’t reach across and squeeze his toned bicep or shamelessly drag your eyes over his broad shoulders. You asked the question simply, no other intention except for wanting an answer.

“I do. Sometimes.” Anton said.

You only hummed and went back to your paper. Anton scooted closer to you, hoping his Le Labo Lavande 31 and the hand across the back of your chair was invading your space enough for you to really get a good look at him. Anton watched your eyes dart again. You were nervous, eyes wide and Anton felt the rush.

“You smell nice.” You said.

The line was pulled from the trap. You’re caged in and Anton looks to you. He knows about the death grip you have on your pencil, it makes him brave enough to invade your space even more.

“You forgot to write your observations here.” Anton says, trying to make lab reports as sexy as possible. 

This assignment would’ve been abandoned a long time ago. If this was anyone else it would’ve never made it out of their backpack. You were adamant about your work, looking at the tips of his pretty fingers where you left a spot blank. He should have his report out too. He should be writing something just like you try to, instead Anton leans closer and he swears the pencil in your hand is going to break from the pressure. 

Is this how he should’ve been acting with those girls all that time? This is real nerves rolling off your body. The anxiety almost makes Anton nervous by extension, he shivers when he finally lets his hand on the back of your chair touch your body. You stiffen and he’s amazed. You went from being indifferent to being too aware. He feels you back away slightly, but when his hand tightens on your shoulder you lean in. You’re hot and cold, not knowing what you want. He can feel you tremble, and your eyes dart from his eyes to his lips. 

“I’ve never done anything before.”

Anton comes closer. His hand that pointed at a random thing on your paper turns into a fist as he distracts you completely. He brings himself forward until he’s in your line of sight, even when you try so hard to look at anything but him. He smirks when your eyes dart past him, and he fully lets his arm rest across your back. You’re malleable, before you refused to even bend to him but now you move from his slightest touch.

“What do you mean?” He asks. “You’ve never done what before?”

He should go for the nerds more often. The way you already seem sweaty and antsy just from thinking about what is happening makes Anton want to play with you some more. He knows it’s perverse, like a dog playing a smaller animal to death. He wants to see if you’ll twitch, if you’re playing dead just to try and make a run for it. 

“I’ve never—I know that—” Anton raises his eyebrows and nods to each one of your broken statements. “It just seems like—”

“Like what?” He smiles and nudges you. His smile is toothy, yours is tightlipped to a straight line. “C’mon. Talk to me.” He continues.

“You smell really good.” You repeat.

You’re the twitching body of a mouse in his jaws. He just smile and nods at your statement, how you go back to saying old things in an attempt to catch your footing. He forces you to sit in the uncomfortable silence. He waits for you to say something knowing you can’t, he waits for you to touch him even if you’re caught like a deer in the headlights.

“I look good too, right?” He starts drawing shapes on your shoulder.

He’s having too much fun. He’s entertained seeing your intelligence fail you. You’re stumped, you drop your pencil to fully clench your fist. 

The pencil is rolling back and forth on your lab report, the small sound is the only thing that speaks. You’re still desperately trying to figure out how you got into this situation, how one thing led to another so quickly that his hand is reaching underneath the sleeve of your shirt.

“You look good, Anton.” You agree.

“Thanks.” Anton smiles and you do too, averting your eyes and nodding to yourself to feign indifference. Anton looks down to your shirt, still playing with your skin underneath your sleeve. “You do too.” He says.

Another bout of silence. You let yourself be touched, hands still clenched on top of the table. Anton rests his hand on top of your fist, smoothing over the protruding veins trying to coax them open. This is more fulfilling than playing with popular girls. The game still hasn’t ended for him. He’s on the fifth consecutive jackpot when you finally open your mouth again.

“I don’t.” Your hand opens and Anton clasps over it, smiling to himself when it disappears. “I don’t know what you want me to do.” You stutter.

You’re too cute for your own good. Finally you look at him with big eyes and your eyebrows raised. You give into his touches a little more, finally warming up to all the attention. Still your pupils shake, and Anton brings his hand from your shoulder to your face to keep you from turning away.

“Can I make you feel good?” He asks.

You could barely nod before Anton was guiding you up from your chair and backing you towards your bed. He watched you stumble when the back of your legs hit the edge. You looked up at him, your pretty eyes already looking wet. Maybe he really did have a problem. Because he loved seeing them widen in surprise when he put his hands underneath your arms, lifting you up just enough to set you on the edge of your bed. He loved seeing your jostled expression and the tiny yelp when you landed so perfectly on your sheets.

Anton watched you stay in place, catching your breath from the sudden movement. He watched your chest still as his hands went to the bottom of his tank top. He’s grateful to have such a captive audience. There’s no way he can pretend to be shy after this. You’re astonished as he slowly lifts his shirt, and he watched you shamelessly stare at him before you realized he could see you. 

Anton let you eat him alive before he came up to you, until you had to tilt your head upwards to see him. You didn’t dare lift your hands from the bed, like he was going to disappear the moment you touched him. Like he was straight from a dream you only looked up to him, waiting for what he was going to do next. Anton wonders if you thought you’d end up in this position, with him looming over you and his hand creeping to a spot under your chin. He absolutely can’t stop doing this. The view is too pretty, your stillness is addicting. Like you’re too afraid to even breathe too loud in case it’d break the tension. He bends closer to your lips, eyes still open after you screw yours shut. You preemptively grip your mattress for dear life and he can’t help but smile.

He smiles into the kisses, each peck bringing you closer and closer to your mattress. When your back is against the sheets Anton climbs on, refusing the break contact. You look so pretty underneath him, eyes squeezing shut again when another wave of realization hits you. You’ve never been in this position before, with someone like Anton looming over you while still being so sweet. He runs his hand over the apple of your cheek, and fixes your shirt that left your stomach exposed.

“Is this okay?” Anton asks.

He knows it is, because your legs seemed to spread a little bit more and more with each passing second. By the time his hand drifts down to your neck you’re completely open, your soft pants bunching at the place Anton wants to touch you next. The valley of your chest gives him a straight path down, and your bent legs open further.

“Want me to touch you?” He asks.

He knows he’s cruel. You’re metaphorically dead and his face is covered in blood, but still he continues. He’s jumping around your body, reaching out a playful hand like you have the life to play back.

“Please touch me.” You whine pitifully.

Anton presses a chaste kiss to your forehead as his hands work past the elastic band of your pants and underwear. You flinch from his hands, then you preen your hips towards his fingers, then you pull back. He’s mocking when he coos at you, the time pressing a kiss to the side of your head. He almost feels bad. You’re clearly fighting against something, your eyes are shut tight as you press your head into the mattress. Anton tries kissing your eyes open, but it only makes you squeeze them tighter.

With you writhing underneath him, he took the time to look around your room. Your little pegboard above your desk where you had calendar marked with all the important due dates of upcoming assignments. Your neatly placed books and papers, your stuffed animals around your pillows. You didn’t make your bed this morning, instead laying on crumbled sheets and gripping whatever you could get your hands on. Your hand went to Anton’s forearm and clutched it, whimpering something that he couldn’t decipher.

“Does it feel good?” He asks.

You nod, and when Anton tries to pull away he feels your nails dig into his forearm. You seem unaware of what you’re doing, how you’re silently begging him to keep going. You’re just moving underneath him, already beginning to twitch helplessly. Anton purposefully pushes his fingers deeper into your clit until he knows he’s bringing you the smallest amount of pain. He’s pulling the strings, watching your body react to him because you can’t control it. By this point the girls would already be asking him to take his pants off, but you can’t even form a coherent thought. He’s having fun in his jeans, watching you twitch and twist and grip his arm with all your might.

“Anton.”

You flick your hips up and he presses his hand to your hip, pinning you to the bed. You still try to swivel, useless against his strength. He’s intrigued that you aren’t trying to be defiant but you simply can’t help it. All the other girls were pliant immediately, so desperate to please the quiet boy in class they underestimated. You’re defiant because you can’t handle it.

“What’s up?” He asks.

His completely even voice makes you whine. The flush across your cheeks tells him you’re embarrassed, red hot and real unlike his facade.

You don’t answer him. You just dig your nails into his arm and attempt to get his prodding fingers to slide in. He raises his eyebrows at your not-so-subtle attempts to get him to inside of you.

“You want me to finger you?” He asks.

You nod like a good girl and Anton almost feels bad for asking you the question in a mocking tone. He makes up for it by giving you what you want immediately, sucking in a deep breath to match your deep breath. He smiles when he sees you arch off the bed. This is so much more entertaining than anything else. Just two fingers has you making unfiltered noises and gripping the sheets. Anton has to bite his lip to stop himself from laughing, and he has half a mind to ask you if you’re okay in a serious tone. But he just continues driving his fingers into your hole.

He picks up the speed, just to hear the lewd sound you two make. It’s wet, Anton can already feel the mess on the palm of his hand. He pulls your waistband down to your knees, bringing your thighs closer together. He has to fight against your soft thighs clenching around his hand. He’s still able to drive his fingers in and out of your heat. He likes the resistance even though you clearly want more. Anton is surprised when you lift your shirt on your own accord. It’s obvious you’re doing it to relieve some of the heat you feel, but he’s still flattered nonetheless. His hand presses against your stomach, applying force to the lowest part.

“I can’t.” You whimper.

That’s when Anton finally laughs. He chuckles at how panicked you sound and how you turn your head in embarrassment.

“Do you want me to stop?” He asks while picking up the speed of his hand.

You nod your head but when Anton tries to pull his hand away you clench your thighs to keep him in place. He chuckles again, situating one legs on the side of your body and the other between your closed legs. He casts a shadow on you below him, and he can see your eyes open the slightest bit from his movements. He drives your legs apart with his knee, and continues pumping that spot deep in you that leaves you shaking your head.

“I can’t.” You whimper.

“You can.” Anton sees your eyes open, wide and staring directly at him as he drives your legs apart further. “You’re so close.” He says.

Your entire body moves from the speed of his fingers. Even your chests jumps underneath your shirt, and he wants to lift it up to reveal the rest of you. He lets you take it at your own pace since you’re giving him so much already. He just pinches and grabs a handful of your stomach, marveling in how soft you are.

“So cute.” Anton coos. “You had no idea, right?” He asks.

You shake your head and you don’t stop shaking it, like you’re trying to will away your impeding orgasm. Anton watches all of it. He’s never had a pretty girl twitch for him so much, or reach a greedy hand up to grip your chest. Something you do when you’re close, something he wants to do for you. His hand superimposes yours, and grips harder too. You’re arching into his palm and preening your hips on his fingers, and then he watches your body go rigid.

“You’re cumming.” Anton teases.

Your whimpering yes rips through the room, and Anton feels wound up himself. He has to set his sights on something else. Pretty confident girls are fun, but seeing your shame manifest in the way you push and pull at him is much more intoxicating. He likes that he knows what you want but you’re too scared to say it, it’s your body that has to act on its own to fulfill your needs. When you continue going, and your strangled moans turn to broken oh my God’s and your legs start shaking, Anton knows he won’t be able to get enough. He keeps pushing you further because he knows you can take it, and you continue whimpering. He doesn’t stop until you sound panicked, and your hand starts pushing his away.

He still looks down at you with a smile on his face. Your head is turned towards your fluffy comforter, exhaling and inhaling so hard you move the fur with your breath. He’s satisfied seeing what he’s done to you, and he’s even more amused when you turn your head to face him.

Your eyes are wide, your lips are swollen and slick from your mindless drooling. Anton feels something in his chest when your eyes move past his body to the prominent bulge in his pants. He’s a step ahead, shaking his head and moving back to rest on his haunches. That comes later, when he plays with you some more and you start voicing how badly you want to please him. When you reach your hand towards his crotch Anton grabs your hand instead, intertwining your fingers.

“I just wanted to make you feel good.” He says.

He’s a sweetheart, after all.

[redhead1180]

Bad Day

Pairing - Dom!Rafe x reader x soft Dom!JJ

Summary - You are having a really bad day. Your boyfriends think that it will be an easy fix, come to find out you weren't in the mood for them.

Words - 3.4k

Warnings - some Noncon, spanking with belt, slapping, fingering, nipple play, cursing, DP, self doubt, name calling, degradation kink, praise kink, pain kink, choking, chokehold. I think that's it, please let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: I had insomnia last night and this idea came to mind. I have not wrote for Rafe before, so hoping I do him justice. I felt like the boys needed someone to come back at them, as see how they react. Hopefully this isn't shit, appreciate any and all constructive criticism.

I walk into Tannyhill, slamming the door behind me, storming past JJ watching TV and Rafe in his office. I made a beeline for our bedroom, just wanting a bubble bath to forget this day. In my haste, I missed the look from each of them, wondering why I was in a mood. And I missed them coming to the foot of the stairs and watching me stomp up them, grumbling the whole time.

“I have to finish this call, so why don’t you go see what’s up her ass” Rafe told JJ. He nodded and headed up the stairs behind me.

I was taking off my jewelry at the dresser, lost in thought about my day at work. Rafe, JJ, and I had turned heads when it came out that we were a throuple 8 months ago. We knew there would be lots of gossip and assumptions, but we really were happy together. Yes, there were times the boys fought, mainly over that instilled Pogue vs Kook hatred, but it was just snide remarks most of the time. I had thought by now the gossip would be over. Boy was I wrong.

I was so deep in thought that I didn’t hear JJ come in. I felt him arms wrap around my waist from behind and instantly knew it was him. He pressed his body up against mine and placed his chin on my shoulder.

“What’s the matter, princess,” he asked into my ear.

“Nothing” I grumbled out, brushing his arms off me and walking to the closet. JJ furrowed his eyebrows, his eyes following me.

“Well something’s got your panties in a wad” JJ said a little impatiently. A little irked at your attitude, but trying to keep from losing his patience. That was normally Rafe.

“It’s nothing, J, just leave me alone,” I huff out grabbing clothes and going to walk past him to the bathroom. I try to brush past him, but he grabs my hips and pulls me up against him.

“C’mon tell Papa J what’s the matter” he cheekily says, rubbing his thumbs on my hips.

“It’s nothing, now stop it I’m not in the fucking mood” I scoff out pushing his arms off me and turning to walk to the bathroom. Before I could take two steps, JJ wrapped one arm around my waist and another around my neck, putting me in chokehold.

“Listen, princess, I am trying to be fucking patient here, but this attitude is going to have to stop. Remember who you’re fucking talking to here. Now. What. Is. The. Problem.” He punctuates those words.

“Nothing” I insist as I begin to struggle in his arms. “I just want to take a bubble bath and lay down. Now please just leave me THE FUCK ALONE!” I shouted as I pushed on JJ’s arms and wiggle in his hold trying to break free. Which was how Rafe found us a minute later.

“HEY!” He shouted at us, “What the fuck is going on?” His eyes wide and a scowl on his face. “What the fuck is wrong with you two?

“Go ahead, princess, tell him what you told me.” JJ demanded knowing, usually, I would not yell or act that way with Rafe. But today was different and I was seriously in a mood. He let me go so I could look at Rafe.

“I’ll tell you the same thing I told him, I just want a bath and to be left the fuck ALONE!” I shouted the last part. I turned around not waiting for an acknowledgement from Rafe and headed to the bathroom. I heard JJ chuckle a “Oh hell nah” and before I could get in the bathroom and close the door, Rafe had me by the back of my neck, pulling me back and pushing me to bed. He literally tossed me on it, without any gentleness.

I immediately tried to get back up and get off the bed, but Rafe tossed me back on there. Before I could react, Rafe had me on my stomach, his hands locked around my ankles. JJ grabbed my wrists and pulled them above my head and between his legs. I struggled against them both, bucking my hips and kicking as best I could. Rafe slapped my ass hard, making me growl in frustration. I kicked at Rafe and tried to jerk my arms from JJ, it was really no use but I was so frustrated I couldn’t help it. JJ grabbed my throat and jerked me up to look at him. His face was red from the struggle, but also cause he was pissed at the moment. Rafe slapped my other ass cheek to get me to stop, but I struggled harder.

“Y/N, STOP, or so help me I will take this belt off and use it on your ass” Rafe hisses at me from behind still holding my ankles.

“Princess, just tell us what’s wrong, stop this” JJ pleaded. He was pissed, just as much as Rafe, but he still was more gentle because he saw there was something genuinely wrong and he hated seeing me upset.

I thought about it, as tears formed on my lash line. But I didn’t know how to explain the way being called a slut, whore, trailer trash, money hungry, and bitch had built up this frustration and self-consciousness. I really did love my boys, and sure we enjoyed Rafe’s money to some extent, but JJ and I both had jobs. I didn’t sit up Tannyhill in fucking lingerie waiting like some kept woman for my sugar daddies. We had sex, obviously lots of sex, and explored each other together. I wasn’t just some fuck toy to them. I was more than that to our relationship, wasn’t I?

I pushed back the thoughts and the tears and struggled harder. Why in my head I felt the need to be a brat and not just communicate, well I’m a woman. We have bad days. What can I say. And I was having a very bad fucking day.

“Nothing is fucking wrong, now let me go” I said very low and cold to JJ, looking him straight in the eye. He looked at me, tongue in cheek, then looked up at Rafe and nodded.

“Fucking hell, Y/N.” Rafe huffed out as I heard his belt unbuckle and then a snap. Rafe reached up, grabbed my shorts and panties pulling them off me in one motion. JJ had wrapped his legs around my body to keep me down, since Rafe had to let go to undo his belt.

“Why can’t you just tell us and stop being a fucking brat.” Rafe scowled at me. “This gonna hurt you more than me.”

I heard a whoosh of air and then felt the belt against my bare ass. The sting and burn from the leather made me gasp out, but I continued to struggle. Rafe slapped me again, this time I let out a muffled scream, the stinging and burning sensation intensified. I felt myself start to get a little wet from the spanking. He hit me a third time and I just screamed this time and grabbed JJ’s shirt, pulling on it to help ground me. I was feeling the heat buildup in stomach and My ass already feeling raw.

“Baby, please just stop struggling and tell us so he will quit.” JJ whispered to me. I let out a choked “No” and I saw his jaw tick from frustration. Rafe hit me two more times and stopped. I was silently crying, my face pushed into the mattress. My ass was raw and stinging, but my pussy was throbbing and I could feel dribbles of my arousal run down my thighs.

Rafe ran his hands gently over my red, burning, and stinging ass soothingly. Pulling my hips up to push my butt more in the air.

“If she won’t tell us after a punishment, maybe she’ll tell us for an orgasm” Rafe taunted. “We just want to know why your so upset, but you can’t act this way baby. That’s not how this works.” He began to run his fingers through my folds. “Fuck JJ she is soaked” Rafe teases. “JJ we are going to come up with another punishment, she enjoys these spankings too much.”

Rafe’s fingers explore through my folds, making me moan into the bed. JJ lets go with his legs and I feel him reach for the hem of my shirt pulling it slowly and over my head. He gently rubs his hands down my back, before unhooking my bra and removing it. He places his hands under my arms and pulls me up to him. Rafe is still just exploring with his fingers and gently rubbing my cheeks with his other hand. My mind was turning hazy and my pussy was throbbing, from the mixture of pain and gentleness the boys were giving.

I was waiting for them to ask again what was wrong, but they didn’t. JJ cupped my face and kisses me. Rafe at the same time slid in one finger, I gasped and JJ slid his tongue in, exploring my mouth with it. JJ slid his fingers in my hair and pulled me closer to deepen the kiss and I moaned into his mouth, melting completely. Rafe slid in another finger and began peppering my red striped ass with open mouth kisses. I whimpered from the sting and grabbed JJ’s shirt, pulling him closer. I couldn’t stop myself, I began rolling my hips and meeting Rafe’s fingers as he pumped them inside me at a slow and steady pace. JJ let his other hand ghost down my neck to my breast and began to pinch and rub my nipple. My insides were on fire, I was a moaning mess, I needed them to do more so I could reach my peak.

“More” I rasped out in JJ’s mouth.

“Not till you tell us what’s wrong” JJ muttered in that low husky voice that made me swoon.

Rafe was beginning a trail of kisses up my back, his pace with his fingers slowing just a bit.

“We just want to fix what’s wrong, baby” Rafe murmured against my skin.

“You can’t fix it” I said sullenly.

They both stopped and looked at me.

“I mean not unless you can get the whole damn county to stop talking about us and calling me names and slurs” I sniffled hiding my face in JJ’s neck.

“I’ll fucking kill all of them” Rafe growled behind me. He jerked his fingers out of me, causing me to yelp, as he got up and started pacing. “I’m going to kill them all, and throw their fucking dead carcasses in the ocean, then I will buy this whole goddamn fucking island, where it’s just us and no one will hurt you again baby.” He ranted.

JJ and I shared a look like WTF.

“Yeah, ok, not helping, yo limp dick, you mind coming back down to reality here?” JJ hollered to Rafe as he threw my bra at his head, causing me to giggle. Rafe snapped his head around with a murderous look, that he immediately dropped when he saw us there.

“You got any better ideas, simpleton” Rafe sneered at JJ.

“Yeah as I matter of fact I do. I say for tonight we make our girl feel like the princess she is, cause she deserves it. Then you and I, starting tomorrow, are going to have a talk with some of the asshole patrons of this godforsaken place, to see if we can ‘encourage’ them to shut the hell up.” JJ said.

They continued to stare at each other, as if having a secret conversation, you were not to be a part of. Rafe finally gave a quick nod and simply said “Ok” and moved back to the bed.

“Now where we” JJ muttered into my lips.

“Wait” I leaned back, JJ huffs, “How are you going to encourage them” I ask.

“Don’t worry about it baby” Rafe hummed from behind me as fingers slid back in my still soaked pussy. “Not any of your concern” he murmured against my back.

“Now shut up and relax, princess” JJ instructs as he claims my mouth.

I moan into the kiss and say fuck it in my mind. JJ cups my breast kneading, squeezing, pinching and rubbing it. Rafe pushes my thighs under me, leaving my pussy and puckered hole bare. He continues to pump his fingers in and out as he gently kitten licks my tight ringed hole. I gasp into JJ’s mouth from surprise, my body immediately feeling the fire from moments ago. I tug on JJ’s shirt wanting to feel his skin on mine. He breaks the kiss long enough to tug his shirt off and goes back to what he was doing. Rafe speeds up his fingers and begins working his tongue through my tight muscles. Jolts of electricity pulse through my body as sensations hit me from every direction. I can feel the heat in my core begin to rage as my orgasm begin to build. I whine and whimper into JJ’s mouth, unable to form words.

“That feel good baby girl?” JJ coos before slamming his mouth back down on mine.

I let out a muffled “Mhmm”. My brain unable to do anything else.

Rafe is now completely fucking my ass with his tongue while his fingers have curled to hit that sweet spot inside me. I wrap my arms around JJ, clinging to him, while rolling my hips to meet Rafe’s fingers and tongue. I whine and moan as I feel my core tingle, signaling my release is close.

“M’close” I whimper out into JJ’s mouth. He reaches down with his other hand and begins to rub my clit as fast as Rafe’s fingers fuck me. Within seconds I feel myself tumble over the edge, and I scream out. My vision turning white and I see stars, my juices spilling all over Rafe and JJ’s hands. When they feel me relax and still in a haze, they both completely strip. Rafe lays down on the bed and pulls me on him, while JJ gets behind me. For once not arguing who got to fuck which hole.

“You did so good baby, you got one more for daddy and Papa J?” Rafe praised as he positions me on top of him, so that both boys have access.

“Yeah” I gasp, feeling myself preen from the praise and wanting to be their good girl. “I am your good girl” I mumble into his chest. I hear his chest rumble from laughing.

“Yes, you are baby, you’re our sweet baby girl” JJ whispers in my ear. “You ready, princess?”

“Mhmm”

I feel JJ raise me up by hips and see Rafe line himself up and slide himself into my swollen, sensitive cunt. He let out a moan as he felt my walls squeeze around him. I moaned out loud as I felt him stretching my walls, thankful I was so wet so he slid in easy. From behind I heard JJ open and close a tube, and then felt the cool lube hit my hole. He gave me a minute to adjust to Rafe. I let out a gaspy “Ok” signaling to JJ I was ready. I felt his tip at my ringed muscles and closed my eyes to relax, he begins to push in and I sucked in air and dug my fingers into Rafe’s chest.

“Oh God” I moaned out as JJ slowly pushed himself inside me. “Fuckkk” I pushed my forehead onto Rafe’s chest, as he slid his hand down to rub my clit, easing the pain of JJ sliding in. Rafe holding still, gritting his teeth occasionally by me involuntarily clenching around him from JJ’s movements.

“Will you hurry up, dude, she is clenching so damn much, I’mma blow my load” Rafe fussed at JJ.

“Dude I’m not gonna fucking hurt her just cause you can’t handle your dick” JJ hisses back. Rafe throws his head back in the pillow with a huff. I whined and whimpered until JJ was completely sheathed inside me.

“Breath baby” JJ almost moaned as he and Rafe waited for me to give them the okay to move.

“Ok” I said breathlessly, signaling they could move.

Rafe begins to thrust up in me as JJ thrust from the back. I gasped and threw my head back, still sensitive from my previous orgasm. Eventually settling on a rhythm, my moans became louder as I began to get lost in the pleasure engulfing my body. Rafe ran his hand up my stomach and over my breast, before squeezing around my neck. JJ slid both hands down my arms, reaching my wrists and pulling my arms behind my back, both speeding up their thrusts.

“Look at you being such a greedy slut,” Rafe grunted. “It takes two dicks to satisfy you, huh?”

I couldn’t answer, my brain was mush, but Rafe wanted an answer. He slapped my check “Answer me.” He demanded causing me to clench around them both, making them groan out.

“Ye- Yes, daddy. I’m just a gree- greedy slut for my – my daddies,” I stammer out breathlessly.

“Yeah, princess, you are, but you’re taking us so well. You’re our good girl,” JJ praises in my ear, causing a rush of arousal to leak out my pussy.

They were both slamming into me, I was being pushed back and forth like a rag doll from the force of their thrusts. I felt the band in stomach stretch to its limit as the sides of my vision began to turn black. Rafe had a hold of both hips, while JJ still has my hands behind my back and his hand around my neck, making my head lean back to touch his chest. My back was arched, pushing my breasts out.

“I’m gonna cu- cum,” I mumble out. Rafe slaps my thigh.

“You don’t cum till we tell you to, babygirl,” he grunts out. I whimper out, knowing I wasn’t going to last much longer, no matter what he demanded. He began to run circles on my clit, causing me to cry out. I couldn’t hold his wrist to try and slow him down, JJ having my arms locked behind me, causing me to squirm. I felt my walls flutter around Rafe, and he slaps my thigh again, making me shudder.

“Daddy didn’t say you could cum yet, princess” JJ pants in my ear as he speeds up again, tears running down my cheeks as I tried to keep my release at bay. JJ licks the tears off my cheeks. “Mmmm she’s crying, Rafe, think we should finish her off,” JJ rasps out.

Rafe pushes his hand against my stomach, pressing against himself inside me. I let out a choked gasp, squeezing my eyes, more tears falling.

“C’mon baby cum for us,” before he can finish the sentence, I feel the band break and I scream out as waves of pleasure rip through me. My vision goes black, I see stars, my ears are ringing, whole body convulsing, as I squirt all over the boys. I barely register multiple “fuck” being said around me as I was lost in my own euphoria. I felt Rafe squeeze my hips as he shoots his seed into my walls, a few seconds later, JJ slams into me holding it while he groans in my ear. They continue to slowly pump in and out of me, helping me ride out my high.

JJ gently pulls out first, causing me to whine, as he lays down beside us. Rafe holds and kisses my face, for a minute. “You did so good baby” he whispers, continuing to kiss my face. He pulls me off him, like I am a rag doll, and places me between him and JJ. I lay there limply as both boys whisper praises and leave kisses on me.

“I think princess has earned a bubble bath as she originally wanted” JJ says, smiling down at me. I grin into his shoulder, making him chuckle.

“Mmmm, ok” Rafe sighs as he kisses my neck, “JJ why don’t you get out girl in the bath, while I change the sheets.” He commands, “Oh and JJ?”

“Hmmm” JJ says as he looks up at Rafe.

“You ever throw a bra at my head again, I will punch you.” Rafe threatens.

“Yes, sir” JJ salute to Rafe.

I burst out laughing.

Tagging a few moots

@princessmaybank @echo-at-the-pond @drudyslut @drewstarkeyslut @rubiehart @rafescokewhore @rafesc0kewh0re @haven247 @kraekat29 @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @blueicequeen19 @rafescurtainbangz @lovesickbrat @babygorewhore @moremaybank

[deadtired-highkeyenergetic]

By Your Side

The Arcane brainrot remains strong, and is apparently strong enough to make me write a fic twice as long as usual. Dammit Silco

Summary: Silco receives reports of an enforcer in Zaun beating the chem-barons at their own game and goes to investigate. He doesn't expect to see a ghost of his past.

It's always on the bridge that his life-changing moments happen. First it was Felicia's death, then Vander's betrayal. Now…now it was you, trading your life for his, pushing him away as enforcers moved towards the both of you.

Go, your lips mouth as your dagger sinks into the throat of the enforcer closest to him. You rip the blade out, causing blood to spurt from the wound and whirl around to face the others, shouting a challenge to draw their attention away.

His feet remain rooted to the ground, throat dry as he watches enforcers crowd around you, hears your war cries as you turn into a deadly whirlwind of steel and suddenly Sevika is dragging him away, eyes hard. Your cries get softer as Sevika hauls him further and further away from you, until he can no longer hear you anymore, nor see you.

No, he can't lose you too. Not after everything, not after what he's promised you. Not when the reality of Zaun is so close at hand —

"—co! Silco!" He blinks slowly, raising his head. Sevika stands before him, her flesh hand on the table supporting her as she leans forward, staring right at him.

"What is it, Sevika?" He groans, noticing the fallen pieces of paper that he will have to reorganise later.

"There have been reports of an enforcer single-handedly cutting their way through Zaun. All the chaos has been affecting business and the chem-barons have been complaining."

"Are they all that useless? One enforcer is giving them so much trouble?" Silco rubs his temple. As if the chem-barons themselves aren't enough of a problem already, now they're handing him more problems to deal with.

"The enforcer apparently knows all the ins and outs of Zaun or something," Jinx chimes in from her perch atop the rafters. She lazily rolls over to look at Silco, playing around with her latest grenade, grinning down at him. "Disappearing into the alleys only to pop out again when everyone least expects it and kills everyone."

Silco frowns, how would an enforcer know Zaun's streets well enough to trick chem-barons? The only plausible explanation he can think of is that someone had given the enforcer a map, and a traitor in their midst was an thorn he had to remove with haste.

"I suppose I will have to clean up after them once again," he sighs. "Sevika, track this enforcer down. Follow their movements, take note of anyone they meet and report back."

"Understood." With that, his ever-loyal right-hand exits his office, leaving him alone with Jinx.

"You know," she hops onto his desk, "that enforcer looked rather familiar."

Silco raises an eyebrow at her, and she smirks, knowing she has stolen back his attention. "They looked a lot like…someone…what was their name again?"

Silco turns back to his stack of paperwork when she falls silent once more and Jinx rummages through a drawer, only to slam it shut with a loud bang that echoes all around the room. She lunges forward, deft fingers quickly finding the thin chain around his neck and pulls on it, hard.

"They had this hanging around their neck too." She whispers. "Sounds familiar?"

No. No, it couldn't be. You — you were gone, dead, lost to the enforcers that day on the bridge. It couldn't be you, it had to be an imposter, there was no way — he had to see it for himself. He had to know, had to confirm it with his own eye.

"Are you sure?" He asks calmly, careful not to break his facade. He had to remain rational, control his emotions for this could be a trap laid by Piltover, but how would they know about you? Too many questions, not enough answers. He could wait for Sevika's report, he had patience.

Jinx lets go of the chain, sliding off his desk. "I saw it myself. You can't miss it, dangles from their neck like an obnoxious piece of jewellery."

Silco's eye widens slightly. There is no doubt about it, it really is you, but how? How had you survived the fight, the riots, and why didn't you come back to Zaun? To him? His fingers curl around his cup as he searches for the answer in his past. You'd promised to be by his side, and he thought that promise lost when he was separated from you that day, but you were very much alive. Had you lied? Yet another question to ask when he got his hands on you.

Jinx notices the twitching and frowns. Silco was clearly hiding something from her, and she didn't like it when he did that. She leans forward, "who are they to you?"

"Someone I may know," he answers, pushing Jinx away. "Don't you have better things to do than bother me?"

"Hmph," Jinx pouts, annoyed that she isn't getting a proper answer. "They're clearly someone you were close to, otherwise they wouldn't have that ugly ring."

Silco sighs, picking up the topmost paper from the pile, "Not anymore. Now go and tinker with something else or make yourself useful and help Sevika track the enforcer down."

Jinx groans but exits the office, leaving Silco alone with his thoughts. Was the enforcer really you? How were you still alive? He plays with the ring hanging around his neck, remembering the day you had presented him with the ring. It hadn't been anything special, fancy or big. Just a simple gesture of shoving a box into his hand and telling him to open it.

"What's this?"

"A surprise gift! Open it!" You grin at him, clearly rather excited about his reaction to whatever that gift is. He frowns, mind cycling through possible pranks you could pull with this 'surprise gift' of yours and stares at it suspiciously.

"I told you it'd backfire," Vander chuckles, cleaning a glass. "You can't escape that reputation of yours."

"Oh come on! I'm not that bad…am I?" You blink owlishly as the two men stare at you incredulously. "…I see. Thank you both for the votes of confidence."

"You're welcome," Silco drawls, suppressing a chuckle of amusement as he pulls the box closer. "You're going to clean up whatever mess comes of me opening this box, understand?"

"I swear there will be no mess!" You pout, slumping onto the table. Vander laughs, ruffling your hair, "I can vouch for her this time, Silco."

"Fine," Silco sighs, but still braces himself as he opens the box — to reveal a simple metal band resting on a cushion.

"So, gonna marry me or —"

"How did you get this?" Silco lifts the ring into the light, studying it. There are carvings set in the metal, your initials and his, bringing a smile to his face as he reads it. "And yes, I am 'going to marry you', don't fret."

"Yes!" You whisper-yell giddily, excitedly bouncing around the bar. Vander pours three drinks, pushing two towards Silco and you while drinking the last one, chuckling. Silco rolls his eyes, taking the cup offered by Vander and throws his pen at you. You yelp as the pen hits you squarely in the forehead and then chuck the pen right back at him.

Silco calmly dodges your terrible aim, taking another sip from his cup, "are you going to answer my question or not?"

"I stole it!"

"I don't believe you."

"What?!" You flop onto the floor dramatically. "The man I love doesn't believe me, it's over."

"Who did you steal this from?" Silco slips the ring onto his finger, then takes it off again. It's far too loose. "I'll need to hang this around my neck."

"Uh…a jewellery merchant I happened across a couple days ago."

"And you didn't even check the ring size."

"I'm supposed to know your ring size?" You snort, moving over to the counter top.

"I don't know, are you?" Silco leans in close, swiping your drink.

"Hey! That's mine!"

Silco simply smirks at you as he drinks half before handing it back, "too slow."

"Give that ring back! I'm reverting my decision, you drinks thief!"

"It's mine already, I'm afraid I'm not keen on parting with it." Silco quickly glances around, ensuring no one is looking before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. "Although I could make it up to you with a return gift."

"Oh? Better not disappoint me then, Sil~" You grin, capturing his lips into a full kiss, which he returns.

"Have I ever, love?"

He tucks the ring away upon hearing his office door open, revealing a scowling Sevika who has a couple of scratches.

"They got away, sorry," she grunts, "but I did find out who they are. It's Y/N. They really are alive."

"How?" Silco growls.

"Don't know, but they don't remember me. Don't know if they'll remember you." She frowns. "Going in alone is stupid, don't you dare think about it."

"I wasn't." Silco sits back down, pinching the bridge of his nose. There's a weird ache in his chest, a pull that tries to drag him out of his office but he forces it back down. He can't let his emotions take a hold of him, there is much he doesn't know about your situation, going after you right now is far too risky.

Still, he takes a different turn during his usual nightly routine, entering an alleyway and takes out a cigar, lighting it. He lets the ring around his neck dangle outside his clothes, the silver reflecting what little light exists at this time of day. A ring of smoke floats into the air, disappearing into the cold night sky as footsteps sound from his left.

"About time you showed up, you've always been late whenever I wasn't around to haul you out of bed." Silence greets him, save for the click of a gun and Silco turns to face you. "Silence really doesn't suit you."

The gun lifts, pointing right at him and he simply stares back. A finger curls around the trigger, pressing it down slightly but he remains unfazed.

"Y/N." He can see the ring that hangs around your neck now, a simple gold coloured band hanging from a thin silver chain. He remembers the day he gave it to you, the way you took great care of it every day, but now it hangs tarnished from your neck, stained and rusted. "It's dirty."

He reaches over, pressing his chest against the barrel of the gun and inspects the ring. He can easily get rid of the rust that has set in, scrub away the dirt but returning it to its former shine will be quite impossible. He clicks his tongue, annoyed and lets go of the ring lifting his gaze to meet your empty eyes. "Let's go home."

The gun doesn't go off, your finger falling from the trigger when you see the ring hanging around his neck, images flashing through your mind. Memories that feel familiar and alien at the same time roar in your head, confusion eating away at you and you drop your gun, clutching at your head. Your chest tightens, lungs refusing to inhale the oxygen you need and your heart thunders in your ears.

No no no no no.

"Breathe." A deep voice cuts through the haze. "In and out. Focus on my voice, follow my instructions. I will not lose you again."

You force your lungs to cooperate, following the instructions step by step, encouraged by the gentle deep voice until your vision refocuses.

"Silco," you whisper shakily. "Silco."

"I'm right here," he murmurs, arms wrapping around you.

"I —"

"Hush now, love. Everything's alright."

"No, it's not. I nearly — I — Sevika —" Panic bubbles to the surface but Silco quickly steps in before the situation can spiral.

"Sevika is alright. You held back enough for her to escape with a few scratches." He presses a kiss to the top of your head. You're back, with him, in his arms. Silco tightens his grip, hugging you closer. It can't be a dream, such a dream would be far too cruel.

"They took me, suppressed my memories, Silco I —" You choke out a sob, tears silently flowing down your cheeks. His heart aches at the sight, it always has whenever he saw you cry.

"But they could never take away our love." He presses his forehead against yours, breathing in your new scent. You smell like Piltover, a weird freshness, a hint of lavender that doesn't suit you in the slightest, and that disgusting blue clashes with the colour of your eyes. Your hair is no longer as rugged, it's combed neatly and Silco ruffles it, running his fingers through the strands like he used to.

He kisses you until your breath smells like cigars, throws his jacket over your shoulders and bundles you in it until he's satisfied he can't smell the Piltover stink anymore then presses one more chaste kiss to your lips. You smell like ash now, like the smoke that fills Zaun's air and he allows himself a small smile. The only trace of Piltover left now is the blue uniform but that has to wait until the both of you are home.

You're back now, with him, safely in his arms, and that's all that really matters. You, by his side once more, keeping the promise you had made to him years ago.

Don't worry, I'll be by your side, always.

[cece693]

Not Interested (Jasper Whitlock x M! Reader)

Summary: You never understood the hype over the Cullen family. Sure, they were beautiful, but didn’t anyone at school have enough common sense to notice something was off? Too bad a certain empath is smitten with you and merely finds your open disdain entertaining.

tags: perceptive reader, Jasper is smitten, isn't character canon nor resembles his original description, human reader, reader is a hothead and unfiltered, creative liberties with Jasper

You never understood the hype over the Cullen family. Sure, they were beautiful, but didn’t anyone at school have enough common sense to notice something was off? They looked like marble statues—flawlessly sculpted but lifeless, almost artificial. And then there were their mannerisms, too controlled to be teenagers. It was all a bit too uncanny for your liking.

Jasper Hale was no exception. Out of all of them, he seemed like the biggest walking red flag. He wasn’t an asshole, exactly, but his whole demeanor screamed danger. Every time you glanced his way, he was as stiff as a board, eyes unblinking and hands clenched into fists beneath the table, like he was holding himself back from doing something. There was a reason people said he was the second most unapproachable Cullen, with Rosalie taking the number one spot. Yet, despite his apparent hatred for people, he seemed determined to catch your attention.

He'd linger by your locker, his eyes burning a hole in your back. When you snapped at him to get lost, he didn’t flinch. He smiled. HE FUCKING SMILED LIKE YOU WERE A KITTEN THROWING A TANTRUM. In class, he'd try to strike up a conversation, blatantly ignoring your clipped and cold responses with a patience only a saint could have. Not only did you notice this, but the whole school did, too. Jasper’s odd behavior had quickly become a hot topic.

Jessica, damn her soul, was at the head of the rumor mill, spinning far-fetched stories about you and Jasper being secret lovers. If punching someone—much less a girl—wouldn’t get you expelled or possibly arrested, Jessica would have been target number one. You tried to keep your anger in check, especially when the whole school (students and staff alike) kept staring at you and Jasper like you were part of some soap opera. But one rumor, in particular, pushed you over the edge.

“I’m not a sugar baby!” you hissed at Jessica when she tried to strike up a conversation about the nonexistent gifts Jasper was supposedly giving you. “What bullshit gave you that idea?”

“He gave you a pencil—”

“Oh, fuck off and shove that pencil—” You couldn’t finish that thought as the bell rang, signaling the end of lunch and the beginning of fourth period. Jessica just waved goodbye and scurried off, knowing your temper wouldn’t be stopped by a bell. Huffing, you made your way to history class, where, lo and behold, Jasper was already seated, a grin on his face.

As the class dragged on, you couldn’t keep ignoring Jasper or the hushed whispers of the other students. His grin never faltered, and neither did the feeling of his gaze burning into you.

Screw it.

Without waiting for the teacher to finish his lecture on some historical battle you couldn’t care less about, you stood up abruptly.

“Out,” you muttered, grabbing Jasper by the arm with a grip that brooked no argument. Jasper, taken aback, allowed you to drag him to his feet. A low murmur rippled through the class, but you didn’t care. You were done playing around.

You hauled him out of the classroom, ignoring the teacher’s confused calls after you, and pulled him down the hallway to the nearest janitor's closet. You shoved the door open, pushed him inside, and slammed it shut behind you. The tiny space was dimly lit and filled with the scent of cleaning supplies, but you didn’t let the cramped quarters intimidate you. Instead, you crowded Jasper back against a shelf, glaring up at him.

“Alright, Hale,” you snapped, eyes blazing. “I’m sick of the staring, the lurking, and the creepy smiles. What's your deal? Are you trying to get under my skin, or are you just that bored?”

For a moment, Jasper didn’t respond. Then, slowly, that infuriatingly calm smile spread across his lips. “You know,” he drawled, his voice like honey dripping off a knife, “for someone who claims not to care, you seem awfully worked up about it.”

“Cut the crap,” you growled, slamming your palm against the shelf beside his head. “You’ve been following me around like some kind of deranged puppy, and I want to know why. And don’t you dare feed me some bullshit line about coincidence.”

Jasper’s smile faded, and for a moment, his eyes flickered with something darker, something almost… amused. “Maybe some of the rumors are true,” he admitted, his voice low but steady. “Maybe I do want to get to know you better.”

The words hung in the air, surprising you. You’d expected deflection, but this was something else. You narrowed your eyes. “Get to know me?” you echoed. “And what exactly does that mean?”

“It means,” Jasper continued, his gaze meeting yours head-on, “that you’re different from the others. You don’t fawn over us like we’re gods, and you’re not afraid to speak your mind. It’s… refreshing.”

You snorted. “So, what? You think acting like a creep is the way to get my attention? Newsflash, Hale: it’s not working.”

His lips twitched, almost like he was holding back a laugh. “Oh, I don’t know,” he said. “It got you to drag me in here, didn’t it?”

That did it. You reached out, grabbed the front of his shirt, and pulled him closer, your faces mere inches apart. “Listen to me,” you said, your voice a low, dangerous whisper. “If you want to know me, try acting like a normal person instead of some stalker freak. Got it?”

Jasper didn't reply immediately, just stared at you before his gaze briefly flicked to your lips. “Got it,” he murmured, a reverent expression crossing his face that confused the hell out of you. You let go of him, expecting him to step back, but he didn’t. He stayed right where he was, not seeming at all bothered by the confined space or your proximity. “Just so we’re clear,” he added softly, “I’m not giving up. I’m still going to try to get to know you, whether you like it or not.”

Feeling a mix of frustration and something you didn’t want to name, you turned around and opened the door. “Fine, but try anything like this again, and I won’t be so nice.”

Jasper chuckled, that damn smile creeping back onto his face. “Deal, but somehow, I think you like a little chaos.”

You rolled your eyes. “Let’s get back to class, Hale.” you grumbled, stepping out into the hallway. But as you walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his gaze on your back—a challenge silently hanging in the air between you.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Remy fic for @littlekidsteve

It has only been a little while since you and Remy had managed to escape the void along with Electra, Laura and Blade before biding them farewell, all the while you and Remy took a long walk as you both tried to figure out what you were going to do now that you were free.

Out of everyone you and Remy were the closet and so the idea of saying goodbye to one another after everything felt wrong, Remy had become apart of you as you became a vital part of him, so much so to the point neither of you could fathom an life without the other being apart of it some way or another.

‘Got any plans now that we’ve escaped the void?’ You asked him and he hums while shuffling his playing cards, a habit you noticed he had whether he was in need of a distraction or in deep thought.

‘I have been in the void for so long that I didn’t think I’d ever get out mon Cher, nor would get out so I made my inescapable prison a home, so all this is…rather new to me.’ Remy admits as he looked over at you with a soft expression before nudging you with his shoulder. ‘You have lived a life before the void, I think you’d be better suited for that question.’

You chuckled as you rubbed the back of your neck. ‘Yeah well I’m pretty sure they’ve pruned it by now, so I’m just as lost as you are and I haven’t been in the Void nearly as long as you have.’ You told him and Remy couldn’t help but chuckle as he went to grab your hand, intertwining it with his own. ‘Then we shall find a way to navigate our new life, together.’ He promised as he then brought your hand up to his lips before softly kissed it.

‘You promise?’ You asked.

‘I promise mon Cher.’ Remy echoed and suddenly everything felt like it was going to be okay, the void was long behind you both as the future was on the horizon, waiting for your both to take it

And soon enough with time and patience you and Remy found yourselves in your own little apartment -that was funnily enough not far from where Wade, Blind Al and Logan lived- and living a quiet, domestic lifestyle, just like you had wanted for a long time but couldn’t due to certain circumstances. You couldn’t help but smile softly upon first seeing Remy with an peaceful expression on his face as he slept, he looked beautiful and at ease with everything that you found yourself admiring him in silence, not wanting to ruin this moment by sneezing or shifting your weight and waking him by accident.

‘Wade is right. You are beautiful.’ You muttered lowly as you memorised his face and the way the light from the window made his skin glow an almost golden hue, making him look ethereal, as you took the time to appreciate the way his eyelashes kissed the apples of his cheeks. Remy was a handsome man and you were in no shape or form to deny it when you were more then aware of this face since the moment you met, but it wasn’t his physical appearance that drew you in but more or less his heart and his ability to light up anything that he touched, and soon enough you found yourself falling for the Cajun Frenchman more then you’d originally thought.

Remy has consumed your every waking and sleeping thought, claimed your body and heart as his own with how his eyes never seemed to leave you the moment you entered the room, smiling at you warmly before cross over to stand next to you for the rest of the day while occasionally showing off a new card trick he learnt. Even during combat Remy would stay close by to keep you safe when he felt that someone was getting too close for comfort by throwing one of his kinetically charged playing cards at them, and when you look over at him he just winks at you and continues the fight.

‘I can sense you watching me mon Cher.’ Remy said as he smiles cheekily, opening one eye to look at you as he brought a hand behind your head, pulling you in for a brief but sweet kiss before pulling away to look at you. ‘Am I really as beautiful as you say?’ He adds in a whisper as though he didn’t want anyone else to hear your conversation.

‘You can’t be blind to your own beauty can you Remy?’ You asked as you moved a hand to rest upon his chest, tapping your fingers against his skin in an unheard rhythm.

‘I’m not, I just want to hear you say it.’ Remy replied as he found his eyes wandering across your face with fondness and admiration. You couldn’t help but laugh as you rested your head against his chest, nuzzling into him. ‘You are indeed beautiful Remy Lebeau, the most beautiful man I have ever laid my eyes on.’ You admit as you look at him, pressing a kiss to his chin as you felt his arms tighten on you, restraining you from moving away from him.

‘You flatter me Cher, but it is you who’s the most beautiful.’ Remy says as he presses a kiss to the top of your head, breathing in the shampoo and conditioner you used and closing his eyes, never having the luxury of experiencing peace before in his life but finding himself falling in love with it as fast as he did with you. Remy felt as though he could stay in this bed forever with you but knew with your plans for later today he wouldn’t, though that didn’t stop him from doing whatever he could to keep you in his arms.

‘Wade, Logan, Laura and their friends are coming over soon.’ You murmured.

‘I know.’ Remy relied.

‘We should get up soon.’ You continued.

‘I know.’ Remy repeated as he kissed your head again, cuddling you further into his chest. ‘We’ll get up soon, but for now can we just…stay here, please Cher.’ He adds in a plea and you couldn’t help but feel yourself slipping into sleep the longer you stayed in Remy’s comforting and strong arms.

‘I guess five minutes wouldn’t hurt.’ You said as you nuzzled yourself into his neck, kissing it. ‘Then we’ll have to…to…wake.’ Before you could finish your sentence you had found yourself fast asleep as Remy smiled down at you. ‘I’m sure they won’t mind Cherie, they’ll understand.’ He says before joining you in dream land.

Bonus:

‘Where the fuck are they?!’ Wade shouted as he, Logan, Laura, Al, dogpool and the rest of his friends stood outside in the hallway to yours and Remy’s apartment after banging on the door for the past five minutes.

‘They’re probably still asleep, best we leave them be before we fucking wake the rest of the apartment complex.’ Logan said, side eyeing Wade as he sifted the welcome gifts in his arms.

Wade pouts and just as they were about to leave, a rugged and scruffy looking you and Remy opened the door to greet them as Wade laughs. ‘You two looked like as though we’ve interrupted something between you two.’ Wade the leaned towards you to whisper. ‘Is the French dick that good?’ You glared at him as you flicked him on the forehead, watching him as he winced and rubbed his forehead with a pout.

‘We may or may not have overslept thanks to someone.’ You nudged Remy in the side as he smiles cheekily and brings an arm to your waist, tugging you into his side. ‘Guilty as charged.’ He said proudly as you both stepped aside for everyone to enter your shared apartment before joining them, happy to have known such weird yet beautiful people.

[pimosworld]

Pairing -Joel Miller x F!reader

Summary-Joel wants to be the first

CW-18+,MDNI,NSFW, oral (f) receiving, established relationship, no outbreak Joel late 40’s, reader is unspecified legal age, reader is not described, inexperienced but not a virgin, soft dom joel, shy reader, joel is obsessed with you, pet names galore, joel is the king of patience and eating pussy

WC-1.4k

A/N- The Joel brain rot has taken over. This was inspired by one of my fav spicy songs I’ll tag the link at the end.

[Joel Masterlist][Main Masterlist]

Not beta read

Kisses down low

His initial reaction when you’d told him was very much a Joel reaction. It startled you at first how angry he seemed, not at you of course. 

  “Whadya’ mean no one’s ever done that before?” 

  You just shrugged it off a little ashamed for whatever reason. He noticed your obvious discomfort and you shrinking in on yourself and he certainly couldn’t have that. He calmed down a bit  and asked you to explain. Your first real boyfriend didn’t think it was worth his time and another partner made you feel self conscious about it so you just stopped asking. 

  Joel had to take a few deep breaths through his nose and cursed the idiots who passed up the opportunity to appreciate you the way he knew you deserved. You never passed up the chance to show him how much you loved and cared for him. It was hard in the beginning for him to understand someone could love him so unconditionally, even with all his flaws and shortcomings. In the short time you’d known each other you brought out this side of him he thought had been long dormant. He had more patience, a lust for life that he thought was lost when Sarah moved away for college. 

  He’d reassured you that he was willing to wait as long as you needed him to until you felt ready. 

  You could tell he was doing his very best to be patient. Every time you were intimate with each other he’d give you his best puppy dog eyes as he rested his head on your stomach, waiting and hoping maybe this time would be a yes. Even through the no’s he could tell you we’re entertaining the idea. Letting it roll around in your head that Joel would never make you feel ashamed or embarrassed. 

  “I promise I’ll make ya feel good sugar.” He rasps against your ear as he lays all his weight on top of you. He stopped trying to fight you when you’d told him how it grounded you after sex to have his broad body pressing you into the mattress. 

  “I know it’s just…I can’t get out of my head.” You gasp as he rolls you over on top of him. 

  “That’s exactly what I’m tryin’ to do…get you out of that pretty little head of yours and let me take care of you.” His voice is desperate as his hands rub up and down your back. It wasn’t often you got Joel in the position to beg so you decided next time you would trust him to do what he said. 

  ****

  “Just relax baby girl.” His deep husky voice is muffled as he lays kisses to your thighs. He’s been slowly undressing you, making sure you were thoroughly distracted. 

  Your breath stutters a little as his strong hands knead at your breast. His fingers tease your nipple and the whine that leaves your mouth already has him desperate to have you making more of those sounds. 

  “Joel…what’s it feel like?” You ask, feeling a little nervous again. 

  He rests his head on your thigh while he continues rubbing soothing circles along your side and your arms. In all his years he’s never practiced this much restraint with anyone. He’s never wanted anything so bad in his life and he’ll be damned if you aren’t one hundred percent comfortable with what he’s about to do to you. 

  “Why don’t ya think about it like a kiss.” You nod your understanding as he hooks his finger with one hand and taps your hips to have you lift them. He slowly pulls your panties down your legs and grinds his hips into the mattress at the sight of you. 

  Joel’s got you so worked up you can feel the slick dripping out of you onto the mattress below. You’ve never felt so protected and yet so vulnerable. So exposed and also powerful at the same time. 

  “Jesus…you’re prettier than a peach.” 

  You chuckle a little at his words and the fact that you don’t think he meant to say it out loud. 

  His broad shoulders settle between your thighs as his thumbs spread you open. You can feel his warm breath fan across your lips and just that sensation has your head dropping back against the pillow. He doesn’t mean to laugh but he had no idea how sensitive you’d be…he’s barely touched you and you’re shaking like a leaf. 

  Joel’s rock hard in his jeans, not having bothered to strip down. When you said you were ready he only had one thing on his mind and it damn sure wasn’t gettin’ comfortable. All he’s been able to think about the last few weeks is how he’ll be the first one to claim you, to taste you and make you come apart on his tongue. In his mind he already owns you and your willingness to submit to him has him daydreaming more than he’d care to admit. 

  “You ready sweetheart?” His voice is almost unrecognizable as he stares at his prize already soaking wet for him. 

  You nod feverishly as his mouth descends on you. You suck in a breath as his tongue wastes no time working you open. His strong hands grip your thighs as he licks and sucks at your clit. You’re so keyed up it feels like you’re embarrassingly close to your first orgasm as you clamp your hand over your mouth to quiet your moans. 

  One of his hands reaches up to you as he clasps his fingers in yours. “Nuh uh baby girl, I’ve been waitin’ ages for this. I want to hear all those little noises you make.”

  He dives back in, his big nose rubs at your clit while his tongue dips into your hole. A high pitched whine leaves your mouth as you instinctively reach down with your other hand to tug at his curls. He’s growling into your pussy, so drunk off you and the way you taste. “Fuck Joel…please.” You whimper into the air as you buck your hips, seconds from cresting over. 

  Joel’s never been so turned on by the sounds you’re making. He can tell you’re close and the swell of pride in his chest that you’ve fully let go for him is something he can’t describe. He almost feels bad for what he’s about to put you through because there’s no way he’s going back to the way things were before. Your poor little pussy is gonna be so abused by the time he’s had his fill of you. 

  “Come on baby.” His eyes meet yours as you fight to keep your head up. He knows you can do it, he can feel the way your thighs clench around his head. He wants to see if you can without his fingers, wants to watch you fall apart on his tongue as he wrings every last drop of rational thought from your brain. 

  His tongue circles your clit in swift motions as you let out an inaudible whine. Your head drops back between your shoulders as your heels dig into his back. You can barely get out his full name as your climax rocks into you, your vision is sparkly behind your eyes as you hear him whispering sweet words far off in the distance. 

  It takes you both a moment to catch your breath as he places kisses along your thighs just resting his head there. Not even wanting to bother with the damp spot on the mattress where he came with you. He doesn’t even care or feel embarrassed when he can’t remember the last time he felt this good. 

  “Joel…” Your voice is a little hoarse as you clear your throat. 

  “Ya sugar.” 

  “Can we…do that again?” 

  He huffs out a laugh in a small moment of triumph. “Anytime you want.” 

Comments and reblogs are much appreciated

[yikes-aemond]

I love you. It's ruining my life. (Part IV)

pairing: Benjicot Blackwood x Bracken!fem!reader (no descriptions of reader except that she wears dresses and has long hair)

warnings: canon typical violence, cursing, death 

summary: You and Benjicot Blackwood plan for the future. Things don’t quite go as planned. 

word count: 5.1k 

author note: Thank you all so much for your patience! I will not lie—this part was a struggle to write. I think I rewrote it at least three times, and I am still not sure if I’m absolutely satisfied. Fair warning, I’m putting our lovebirds through the ringer, but do not worry—I’m a girl who loves a happily ever after. Also, no smut in this part, but stick around for part five. Happy reading!

part i can be found here, part ii here, and part iii here.

“Have you lost your mind?” 

You could not have heard him correctly. Surely Benjicot Blackwood had not just asked you to marry him, while you were half naked. 

You hurried to adjust your dress and cover yourself in a desperate attempt to establish some sense of dignity and propriety in this moment. Had you not been overwhelmed by the day, had you not been so taken off guard, you might have responded a little more kindly to a proposal from your beloved.

Benjicot laughed as he watched you try to gather your wits about you. He followed your direction, adjusting his breaches so that everything was tucked back into its proper place.

Once you were both decent, Benjicot reiterated, “I am quite serious. We should marry this evening.”

You shook your head, mind racing as you tried to comprehend what he was saying, what he was asking. For years, you had watched Benjicot from afar. Watched the way he grew into a man, into someone that people feared and respected in equal measure. Being with Benjicot was always your dream. The one you had tucked away in your heart for years, never to see the light of day should you dare to do the most dangerous thing in all of Westeros—hope. 

And now he was asking you to marry him. You felt unbalanced, unsteady. Your head and your heart were at war. 

You managed to get off the bed. Needing a moment to collect yourself, you put some distance between you and Benjicot and moved back across the room to the fireplace. 

When you turned back to Benjicot, you saw that he had not moved. His eyes were fixed on you, that predatory gaze locked onto your form, waiting for your response. 

That look in his eyes never failed to make you squirm. The weight of that stare made you think he could hear every thought in your head, all your secrets and dreams. 

You sighed, breaking eye contact and said, “You know that our families will never allow it.”

Benjicot stood then, and slowly stalked toward you. With each step, you felt your heartbeat pound louder against your chest. You had thought that the longer you spent in his presence, the more you would become used to him. But you could not deny the effect Benjicot had on you, on your body. 

Benjicot took your hands in his, and pulled you against him. Placing your hands on his chest, he rubbed his thumbs over the scrapes you had gotten earlier in the woods. Had that only been this morning? Time seemed to hold no meaning in this room. A prison that now felt like a sanctuary. 

“That is why we must marry tonight.” Benjicot smiled, and then placed a kiss on your brow. “By the time they find out, it will be too late.” 

You pulled back, just enough so that you could look at his face. “And do your really expect your father and Black Aly to welcome me into the family with open arms?” 

Benjicot was still smiling, still so sure of his plan. “They will once they see how happy we are. How much we love each other.” He shrugged before continuing, “And we would not be the first Blackwoods and Brackens to marry. Others have done it in the name of peace.”

“But our families do not seek peace now!” You practically shouted, frustration coloring your tone. “We are on the brink of war, and our families stand on opposite sides.”

You tried pulling away, but Benjicot tightened his arms around you, stilling your struggle. Whatever good humor Benjicot had was slowly leaching from his features. “You know as well as I do that Queen Rhaenyra is the rightful ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.”

You closed your eyes and took a steadying breath.“Of course I agree with you, but that does not change the fact that my father will disown me if we do this. I will never be able to return home.”

Benjicot pressed another kiss to your temple and whispered against your skin,“Would that be such an awful thing?”

You felt your heart jerk at his question. The idea of never seeing your family again, of never being welcomed home, of never eating your cook’s fruit pies or riding through the moorlands outside of Stone Hedge on a misty morning, or gods never visiting your mother’s gravestone, was enough to send a wave of nausea through you. 

You hid your face against his chest. “My father was not always the most loving, but he is my father. For all the faults you may find with him, he has never been cruel to me.” 

Benjicot felt the shift in your mood, could practically feel the sadness and desperation radiate from the points where you touched. He knew the sacrifice he was asking you to make was no small thing. He rubbed his hands up and down your arms, trying to comfort the turmoil within you. 

You could not stop the tears even if you wanted to. You did not wail, did not scream at the unfairness of your situation, did not rail against the old gods and the new for cursing your families and subjecting them to an endless blood feud. For what else could this ancient, hateful grudge between the Blackwoods and Brackens be except for a curse? 

Even if you could convince your father to bless a marriage between you and Benjicot, any children between you would be enlisted to the war. Generations of prejudice had proven that. It was no matter that the Bracken or Blackwood on the other side would be a cousin. No matter that no one could remember how the hatred between your two families even began. No matter how senseless the bloodshed would be. 

This was your and Benjicot’s world. You could not run from the truth of your situation, could not hide from your fates. Not if you wanted your love to withstand.

And even though the thought of never going back to Stone Hedge was devastating, the thought of never seeing Benjicot again was unthinkable. Never hearing his voice or his laugh. Never seeing his smiles. Never having him hold you in his arms. You could not bear the separation, not after having a taste of what your life could be like together. 

Your tears slowed and your breathing evened out. Whatever doubts that had plagued your mind were banished. Resolution steeled your spine. You took a fortifying breath and lifted your head from Benjicot’s chest. With a watery smile on your face, you said, “I accept your proposal, Benjicot Blackwood.”

Benjicot’s joy was infectious. Smiling wide and bright, he lifted you into his arms and kissed you with such a reverence that left your breathless. Gods, you loved this man. Wanted him again and could not imagine ever being parted from him. The very thought of being separated was enough to send a panic through you. 

You wrapped your arms around Benjicot’s neck and tangled your hands in his hair, your tongue in his mouth. You felt his joy in that kiss. And you let that joy into your heart. Let it fill and warm you. In this moment, you allowed yourself to be happy. 

The impossible dream was becoming a reality. 

When Benjicot had proposed, he did not have an actual plan. He did not have any rings or a marriage cloak. As a Blackwood, he preferred to have a ceremony before the old gods in front of the ancient, colossal weirwood tree in the godswood. 

Because there were no clergy associated with the old gods, the current Lord Blackwood usually performed marriage ceremonies at Raventree Hall. But seeing as his father would likely oppose the marriage, that left Benjicot with few options. With a little convincing, or in Benjicot’s case, a little threat of bodily harm, the maester finally agreed to perform the ceremony. 

You could not stop smiling as Benjicot snuck you out of your rooms. With each passing hallway and corridor, you felt your excitement grow. You could barely contain your glee as you clung to each other, arms linked and hands intertwined, as you made your way into the godswood.  

The maester stood before the weirwood tree, with only the moonlight and a few lanterns to light the way. Hundreds of ravens were to be your witnesses. On any other night, feeling the weight of all those eyes watching you might have felt unsettling. But nothing could spoil this moment, nothing could come between you and Benjicot— 

“What in the Seven Hells do you think you’re doing?” 

Every muscle in your body tensed. Panic settled in your chest, and you felt your stomach drop. 

Black Aly stood at the edge of the godswood, her bow and arrow knocked and poised to strike.  

You felt the world shift. One moment you were standing beside Benjicot, and the next, Benjicot stood in between you and Aly, putting himself in the way of the arrow that had been aimed at your chest. 

“Lower the bow, Aly.” Benjicot’s voice was hard and low. You watched as he moved his hand to the hilt of his dagger, ready to draw the blade at any moment. 

Even from a distance, you could see Aly roll her eyes at Benjicot’s actions, but she did not lower her bow. “Do not overwork yourself, nephew.” 

You grabbed the back of Benjicot’s cloak, pulling slightly as if to hold him back. You glanced wearily back and forth between the Blackwoods. Two warriors preparing to battle. The last thing you wanted was for there to be violence. For surely a duel between Bloody Ben and Black Aly would be a fight for the ages. 

Benjicot’s body was tense as yours. He did not truly believe that Aly would hurt you. Aly was tough but fair, and underneath her brash attitude and hostility, she had a gentle heart. But he would not risk you. Would not allow anyone to threaten or harm you. Not when he had the ability to protect you. 

Benjicot pulled out his dagger. “Put the bow away, Aly. I will not ask again.”

You wanted to step in between them like you had done in the fight with Aeron. But this situation was different. This was two Blackwood who were taking the measure of each other, testing how far the other was willing to go. You could not intervene, even if the sight of an arrow pointed at Benjicot was enough to send your blood running cold. 

After what felt like hours, Aly lowered her bow. Sighing, she returned the arrow to her quiver. Only then did Benjicot sheath his dagger. 

“You sure have a flare for the dramatics, nephew.”

Now it was Benjicot’s turn to roll his eyes. “Says the woman who had an arrow aimed at my betrothed.”

Your heart fluttered at the word. 

Aly huffed out a laugh. “Is that what she is to you? Your betrothed? I do not recall your father agreeing to any such arrangement.” 

Benjicot remained in front of you, a barrier between you and Aly. “I asked for her hand, and she accepted.”

Aly stood with her hands on her hips, eyes directed toward the heavens. She looked as if she were searching for patience amongst the stars. When she cut her gaze back to Benjicot, you could not miss the look of pity that flashed across her face. 

“Benji, you know that you cannot marry her.” 

You reached for Benjicot’s hand, needing his touch and warmth to ground you in this moment. Whatever happiness you had felt, whatever joy that you had shared, was now slowly falling through your grasp. 

Black Aly would never allow you two to marry. Not like this. 

But Benjicot’s stubbornness was no light thing. “I love her, Aly. I will marry her, and you cannot stop me.”

Just as Aly was about to respond, you saw her face pale and expression grow uneasy. And when you heard the voice behind you, you understood why. 

“You would be wise to reconsider that position, son.” 

If you had thought you felt panic before, that was nothing to the sickening feeling that plagued you now. 

Because standing on the opposite side of the godswood, directly across from Aly, was Lord Samwell Blackwood. Benjicot’s father, and your own father’s sworn enemy. And with him stood a dozen Blackwood guards, each looking between you and Benjicot with expressions that ranged from disbelief to disgust. 

You had never been formally introduced to Lord Blackwood. He was a rather tall man, with hair as black as a raven’s wing. His close-cropped beard was the same. Like Benjicot, his gaze was enough to send a lesser man cowering. And right now that gaze was cold and enraged and fixed on you and Benjicot. 

If Benjicot had not been holding your hand, you would have been trembling. The two of you were trapped. 

“Are you so eager to start a war, Benjicot?” Lord Blackwood asked, his tone was like ice. “For some Bracken wench?” 

You felt Benjicot’s hand tighten around yours, almost to the point of pain. One glance at Benjicot told you that he was furious. His glare held that feral edge, and he was close to snarling. Bloody Ben was backed into a corner, and he looked itching for a fight. Even if that fight was against his own father.

“You will mind how you speak about my lady, father.” Had you not been so fearful for your life and his, you would have thought that declaration rather romantic. 

Lord Blackwood did not look impressed. “Do you have any idea what kind of trouble you and your lady have brought to our door, Benjicot?” 

“We wish to marry, father.” Benjicot glanced at you as he said, “We love each other.” 

A long suffering sigh escaped from Lord Blackwood as he motioned for his men to stand down. “That does not change the fact that she is a Bracken. You cannot simply marry her without expecting there to be consequences.”

“I am prepared to accept any consequence if it means we can be together.” The surety in Benjicot’s tone was enough to ease the fear that had gripped you since you had been discovered. You could help but give him a small smile. 

A smile that Lord Blackwood did not miss. “And you, Lady Bracken?” Lord Blackwood sneered. “Are you prepared to face the consequences of this marriage? Your father will seek retribution for this little act of rebellion. Are you prepared to have blood on your hands?” 

Now you were the one who squeezed Benjicot’s hand. Lord Blackwood terrified you, and so did his words. You did not wish to be the cause of another fight between the Blackwoods and the Brackens, did not want to send anyone to their death because you fell in love with someone who was never meant to be yours. 

Benjicot nudged his shoulder against yours, offering you what strength he could. With him standing at your side, you found the courage to meet Lord Blackwood’s gaze. “Whatever trials and tribulations may come our way, Lord Blackwood, I am prepared to meet them with Benjicot as my lord husband.” 

Even without looking at him, you could feel Benjicot’s eyes on you as you held your own against his father. Could feel how proud he was of you for defending your future together. 

Taking another breathe, you could not help but add, “You speak of my hands becoming bloody,  but I could not think of anything more fitting for a woman betrothed to Bloody Ben Blackwood.” 

The silence in the godswood was deafening. 

Every person and creature seemed to be holding their breath for Lord Blackwood’s response. You did not dare break eye contact with him, determined to hold your ground and prove yourself worthy of being Benjicot’s wife. 

Lord Blackwood finally moved his gaze from you and back to Benjicot. “We will treat with Lord Bracken tomorrow. Offer him a parley. You will ask his permission to marry his daughter. You will accept his decision, no matter what he says.” 

“Father! You know he will not—”

But Lord Blackwood had heard enough. Holding up his hand, he demanded silence. “Those are my terms, Benjicot. Be grateful I am allowing this much.” 

A weariness had settled over Lord Blackwood’s features. Although he was still a man in his prime, in that moment, he looked aged and tired. As he turned to leave the godswood, he said, “We stand on the brink of war. The Targaryens are at each other’s throats since King Viserys passed. Soon House Blackwood will be asked to choose a side, and you have allowed your foolish heart to guide your choices.” 

You could tell Benjicot wanted to protest, wanted to push back on his father’s orders. He knew as well as you did that convincing your father to allow the two of you to marry was going to take an act of the gods. 

And even though Benjicot knew when to pick his battles, knew when he had lost a fight, he could not help but have the last word. “There are worse things to be guided by than one’s heart, father.” 

Benjicot’s words gave Lord Blackwood pause. For a moment, you thought he might respond, might reprimand Benjicot for his lack of respect. Only when Lord Blackwood continued walking out of the godswood did you feel like you could breathe again. 

The Blackwood guards followed their ledge lord, leaving you, Benjicot, and Aly in the presence of the ravens. You could have collapsed from exhaustion. You felt wrung out from the day. Too much had happened in such a short period of time, and your body was protesting. 

Aly approached and stopped just short of you and Benjicot. “Well, that did not quite go as I expected.”

Benjicot rounded on Aly, and with animosity in his voice, he asked, “Why did you stop us?”

Aly stared at Benjicot like he had grown a second head. “We’re trying to prevent a war, Benji. Had the two of you married, Bracken would have shown up here with a thousand men seeking your head. You might love each other, but is that love really worth the lives of hundreds? Thousands?” 

“You are overreacting—”

Aly shoved at Benjicot’s chest. “And you are being an idiot! Use your head, Benji. If you had married in secret, the Brackens would have stopped at nothing to avenge that insult. You know that, even if you are too blind to see it.” 

With a softer tone, Aly continued, “Be grateful your father is supporting you in this. He could have just as easily returned her to Stone Hedge. You have a chance.”

Benjicot scoffed. “A chance? Do you really believe—”

“Enough.” You cut Benjicot off before he could say another word. You took his face in your hands, forcing him to look at you. “My father may hate Blackwoods, but he is not unreasonable. We will convince him.” 

You could tell that Benjicot was struggling to control his temper. He was still running hot from the confrontation with Aly and his father. Bloody Ben was lingering too close to the surface. You pulled his face toward yours and pressed a kiss to his lips. Nothing more than a gentle peck, but enough to distract him. 

When you pulled back, you could see that some of the edge had worn off. Benjicot’s face was calmer, less hostile. “I love you, Benjicot Blackwood. I do not plan to give you up without a fight.” 

Benjicot smiled at your words, the soft smile he reserved just for you. He wrapped his arms around you, tucking you under his chin. “My brave girl. I pity any man who would dare cross you.”

You held each other for a moment before Aly cleared her throat. “If you two are finished, I’m going to escort little Bracken back to her rooms.” 

With a quick kiss to your head, Benjicot released you and said, “Sleep well, my lady.” 

You did not want to leave Benjicot, but you knew there was no way Aly was going to let you stay with each other. As you followed her out of the godswood, you could not help but take one last look at Benjicot. 

You nearly stumbled when you saw him. Beneath the ancient weirwood tree, bathed in moonlight and surrounded by ravens, stood Benjicot. His head bowed as if in prayer. 

You did not have to guess what he was praying about. You only hoped that the old gods were listening. 

The only neutral territory acceptable to both the Blackwoods and the Brackens were the boundary stones near the old windmill. The day was overcast and cold, with the wind tearing through the cloak Aly had lent you.

Aly had not left your side since collecting you from your rooms that morning. You and Benjicot had been kept separated for the entire journey. You had asked for him, begged Aly to allow you two a moment alone, but she had refused. Lord Blackwood was keeping both she and Benjicot on a tight leash until this matter was settled. 

To say you were nervous was an understatement. You had tossed and turned the entire night, too anxious to close your eyes for fear of what your dreams may hold. You might have been confident with Benjicot the night before, but in truth, you had no idea how to convince your father to allow you to marry. 

The Brackens had arrived first. 

A host of about fifty men had gathered on their side of the boundary stones. A sea of red and gold with a few horses scattered in the mix. You did not miss how all the men were armed with swords at the ready. 

And in the front, seated atop his favorite war horse and adorned in battle leathers, was Amos Bracken. Your father.  

Amos Bracken was not as tall or built as Samwell Blackwood, but you knew your father to be a proficient swordsmen and respected fighter in his own right. You had no doubt that should this come to blows, he would hold his own. 

Aeron stood beside him. A united front against their perceived enemies. And while your father’s face was blank of all emotions, calm and controlled, Aeron’s disdain for the Blackwoods was clear for all to see. 

The Blackwood host equalled that of the Brackens’. You had ridden to the neutral ground on the back of Aly’s horse. You had tried to spot Benjicot all morning, but there were too many men, too much chaos. The closer you got to the boundary stones, the more you felt Aly tense in front of you. 

When you finally stopped, Aly directed you to the front of the vanguard. She had drawn her bow the moment your feet hit the ground. 

Your first sight of Benjicot sent your heart thumping. His dark hair was mussed, as if he had run his hand through it multiple times. But that was the only sign that Benjicot felt uneasy. His posture was relaxed, and his mouth was fixed in a smirk, like this meeting was an every day occurrence. He showed no fear. 

Aly stopped you slightly behind and to the right of Benjicot. You saw the moment when your father and Aeron spotted you. Your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, and Aeron’s face twisted into a mix of shock and disbelief. 

You swallowed down the fear and anxiety. Swallowed down the nausea that threatened to upend your breakfast. Swallowed down any uncertainty you felt. You had to present a strong front to your father and his men. Otherwise, they would pounce on any hesitation and demand that you be returned home. 

Lord Blackwood broke the silence first. “Amos. A pleasure as always.”

“Cut the shit, Blackwood,” Lord Bracken snarled, “and return my daughter to me.” 

The words were not unexpected. You tensed as Aeron shifted his hand to the sword at his side, stomach twisting as he gripped the hilt. 

You exhaled a long breath and fixed your gaze on your father. “I am well, father. The Blackwoods have treated me kindly.”

Lord Bracken’s face darkened, and you instantly regretted speaking. “I do not want to hear a single word from you.”

Your cheeks flamed at the dismissal, but you refused to lower your eyes. Refused to cower before your family. “Then I am sorry to disappoint you, father.”

“You insubordinate, ungrateful—”

“Lord Bracken,” Benjicot interjected, stopping your father from insulting you further. “I am here to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

You did not so much as breathe as you waited for your father to respond. 

And waited. 

And waited. 

The longer you waited, the more panic seeped into your veins. But when your father finally responded, you wished that he had not. 

With a sneer on his face, your father glared at Benjicot when he said, “I would sooner feed my daughter to one of those Targaryen dragons before marrying her to some Blackwood cunt.” 

You had felt like someone had knocked the air from your lungs. You had never seen such hatred on your father’s face. Had never heard his voice sound so cold and cruel. You knew that he hated the Blackwoods, but to sentence you to death rather than let you marry? 

You looked at your father like he was a stranger. 

You heard angry shouts and curses behind you from the Blackwood host. Felt that the bloodlust in the air had upped a notch. 

Lord Blackwood held up a hand to silence his men. “Careful, Bracken.” 

“My daughter was taken by your son. Subjected to gods knows what. I will not be careful, Blackwood.” 

“That’s not true, father!” You shouted, launching yourself to stand before your father. You had to find some way to convince him, some way to get him to listen. “Benjicot and I are in love. Please, just listen to us.” 

Your father scoffed. “Love? Between a Bracken and a Blackwood? Do not make me laugh.” 

The Bracken host jeered at your father’s word, laughing and snickering at the very idea of you and Benjicot being together. You even heard a man call out, “Blackwood whore!” 

You did not see Benjicot move. Did not see him reach for the dagger at his hip. Did not see him launch the blade into the air. 

But you could not miss the dagger embedding itself into the man’s throat. Could not miss the splattering of blood or the final wheeze of breath the man took before falling to the ground. Dead in the blink of an eye. 

A scream tore from your throat. You whipped around to look at Benjicot and found Bloody Ben instead. His eyes held that crazed, feral look, but there was no smirk.

Every Blackwood and Bracken standing in that field un-sheathed their weapons. 

“You may insult me all you wish, Bracken!” Benjicot called out, moving forward. “Call me a cunt. Call me craven. I do not care.” He stopped next to you and took your hand. "But I will cut down any man who dares to say such vile insults to my lady. Of that, I promise you.”

Your father did not look pleased by that declaration. If anything, he looked more enraged than before. “You violate the terms of this parley, Blackwood. You have spilled Bracken blood. I have the right to demand your head. But I will settle for the return of my daughter. Now.” 

You were close to tears. Nothing you or Benjicot said moved your father. He was determined to hold onto his hatred, to see the Blackwoods in the worst possible light. But you could not give up—you had to try. 

“Father, please,” your voice broke at the words, “I know that the feud between our families has lasted for a millennium. I know that the thought of a Blackwood and Bracken being together, of loving one another, is inconceivable to you. I know that this is not the life you wished for me. But I have lovedBenjicot since I was a girl.” You took a quick glance at Benjicot to give you strength. “And he loves me. I humbly ask you to grant our union.” 

Your father refused to look at you. Refused to acknowledge your words or pleas. You clutched Benjicot’s hand tighter. For you knew what was coming. Knew that your father was about to crush whatever hope you still held onto. 

Ignoring you and Benjicot as if you were insignificant, he directed his words to Lord Blackwood, “I do not give my blessing to this marriage. Return my daughter to me or we will have war.” 

Your vision swam and your ears began ringing. Somewhere in the distance you heard Lord Blackwood sigh and give the command. Your hand was ripped from Benjicot’s, by whom you did not know. You felt as if the entire world had spun off its axis. How had everything gone so wrong? 

One moment, you were standing next to Benjicot, his warm hand against yours, and then in the blink of an eye, you were on the other side of the boundary stones, with Aeron leading you away.

You felt as if you were disconnected from your body. Aeron’s arms were around you, guiding you. You were vaguely aware that he was trying to say something, speak to you about what had happened. But you felt nothing. Heard nothing. A numbness had settled over you. 

Only when you heard Benjicot call out your name did you snap. 

You shoved against Aeron, tried to run back across the boundary stones to Blackwood land, back to your love, but Aeron held firm. You struggled against him, screaming and hitting and kicking, but your strength was no match for his. 

You looked across the field to see Benjicot being held back by three men. He was snarling and raging, but the men held firm and forced him to his knees. You watched as Aly tried to speak to him, tried to calm him down. 

But there was no calming Bloody Ben. Not now. Not when his lady had been taken from him. 

When Benjicot saw that you were watching him, saw that you were struggling against your own constraints, he stopped. His eyes were wild and fierce and held the promise of retribution. With laboring breaths Benjicot shouted across the field, “I will come you for you, my lady!” He vowed. “I will always come for you!” 

You sobbed at his words. Sobbed for the happiness and hope that you had felt only hours before. Sobbed for the future you might have shared together.

For the second time, you were forced to leave Benjicot behind in this accursed field. Only this time, the heartbreak was so much worse. You had gotten a taste of the impossible dream, gotten so close to getting everything you wanted.

Your dream had become a nightmare. 

final author note: I know! I know! We have to suffer before things get better. Any feedback would be greatly appreciated. Love you babes xx

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[lazycats-stuff]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a part two where they meet kindergarten(y/n)’s “boyfriend” 

have a good day/night 

Yes and my apologies for a late reply. And yes, it's the same GIF. Why? I'm lazy to look for anything else.

Part 1 everyone - Batfamily x male!reader

Summary: Bruce wants to meet the supposed boyfriend and the parents.

Warnings: fluff, no one wants (Y/N) to grow up

The revelation of (Y/N) having a boyfriend sent everyone into a spiral. Everyone. Bruce still couldn't believe and when reflecting back on (Y/N)'s adorable revelation, Bruce was glad to be sitting down. And yes, him and Alfred had that scotch. How could they not? The baby of the family, not even a double digit age, has a boyfriend.

Dick still can't come to terms with it. He refuses to believe it. His baby brother... Having a boyfriend... No.

The rest were in almost the same mindset, but not so severe as Dick.

Either way, they were slowly, but surely, accepting the fact that (Y/N) has a boyfriend. Bruce has decided to set up a playdate with the supposed boyfriend. He needs to meet the boy and the boy's parents. He was going to make sure that the boy is worthy of dating (Y/N).

Hold on... (Y/N) is not a teen yet... He is still a toddler. Bruce sighed as he sipped his scotch slowly in his study, while (Y/N) was napping in his room. Why is Bruce in a mindset that (Y/N) is a teen? Probably because he has 4 teenage boys and those 4 do love testing his patience.

So, Bruce went on a solo pick up trip. He prohibited the boys from coming because none of them would be able to be calm. Damian would be him scary self, Jason would join him, Tim would look like he didn't sleep for days and it would look like Bruce abused him or something. And Dick? An emotional mess to say it lightly.

So Bruce waited patiently, watching as (Y/N) interacted with a boy... Holding hands... So there it is... The boyfriend. Bruce crossed his arms as he watched, trying to pinpoint the parents of the boy. And he found them.

A gay couple, one tall and one smaller. Adorable. (Y/N) noticed Bruce and ran to him, making Bruce smile. Bruce picked him up with ease.

" Hey (Y/N). How was your day? " Bruce asked as he adjusted (Y/N) in his arms.

" It was great. " (Y/N) said as he yawned, leaning his head on Bruce's chest, making Bruce chuckle.

" Someone's tired. Is that the boyfriend you were telling me about? " Bruce asked as he turned to look at the couple and their son. (Y/N) nodded, yawning in the process.

" I'm Bruce Wayne, nice to meet you. I would shake your hands, but they are full. " Bruce introduced himself to the couple, making them chuckle.

" No problem. I'm Theodore and this is my husband James. And this little boy is Dylan. " The taller one introduced the family and Bruce nodded.

" It seems our sons... Are dating. " Bruce said, rather hesitantly. He didn't know how he could approach this, how the other parent's feel about it.

" We know... James nearly passed out once he heard the excited, ' Dad, papa, I have a boyfriend. "

" My oldest wept once he heard it. One thought he was hallucinating since he is an insomniac. One who is usually stoic nearly lost it. And one is holding on by a thread. And I had to open up a bottle of scotch... So that's how we have been doing. " Bruce said, glancing down at his son, whose eyes were still closed.

" I did the exact same thing. " Theodore said picking Dylan up, adjusting his son in his arms.

" I was thinking about inviting you two to the manor, for a playdate. If our kids our... It's weird to say in a relationship, but you get my gist. " Bruce explained and the couple laughed.

" We'll be honored to come. " James said and Bruce reached into his pocket to give them a business card.

" My number's on it. Also, is Dylan allergic to animals? Cat and a dog? " Bruce inquired and both shook their heads.

" My second youngest has animals so I need to check. Just send me a text later and we'll go from there. " Bruce stated and the pair nodded.

" We'll do that. "

And the day finally came. Theodore and James came over with little Dylan and the two boys wasted no time in the big garden. Running, playing, Titus joining in, but being gentle... Bruce watched with Theodore and James, all of them sipping something. Bruce sipped some scotch, while they drank some red wine that Bruce pulled out of nowhere.

" So, if you don't mind me asking, what do you two do for a living? " Bruce asked, leaning back in his chair, crossing one of his legs over another.

" I'm a tattoo artist. " Theodore started and Bruce nodded. " I own my own shop. You might have heard about it, it's called, Majestic Ink. "

Bruce tilted his head as he thought about. " I have heard about it. Only nice things about it. " He said and Theodore smiled.

" And you James? "

" I own a chain of restaurants. " James explained and Bruce nodded.

" So we are all business owners. " Bruce noted and the two nodded. " Not an easy one. Especially bigger ones. " James laughed as he heard it and nodded.

" Tell me about it. I have to look after several restaurants and he looks after one shop. I envy him. " James admitted, playing with the stem of his wine glass.

" I envy small businesses. You don't have to worry about so many employees, you don't worry about your reputation, unless you are in a small town... I envy you Theodore. " Bruce admitted and Theodore chuckled at that.

" I don't envy you. All eyes are on you and if you mess up, everyone shits on you. Also, a quick question, how do you manage 4 teen boys? " Theodore inquired and Bruce laughed.

" That's the best part. You don't. You simply need patience and they need their daily dose of bickering. I bicker with them and they bicker with each other. I only tell them if they fight that they don't kill one another and no broken bones. I'm not driving them to the hospital. But, once (Y/N) into our lives, they became much more calmer, for his sake. " Bruce explained. " So I don't really worry about them fighting anymore. Physically at least. Verbally, they can throw it. " Bruce admitted, raising his glass of scotch up to his lips.

" We are just asking. We need to be prepared for Dylan. He is a sassy child already... I'm dreading the teen stage. " James rubbed his temple, laughing to himself.

" They are all going to put us in our early graves. " Theodore said, clearly referencing both (Y/N) and Dylan and the revelation of their... Relationship...

" You know, you know we love them and that they are doing what the rest of the kids do... They try to put us into our graves. " James concluded and Bruce let out a quiet amen.

" To our kids that are going to put us into their graves, " Bruce raised his glass, Theodore and James following his lead.

" And giving us gray hairs. " James added and the trio of fathers laughed, letting out a cheerful hear hear and then sipped their drinks.

" Dad! " (Y/N) yelled, running towards him. Bruce got prepared to pick him up as he had done this before. Bruce picked (Y/N) up, propping him up on his lap.

" Yes? "

" I want to marry Dylan! " (Y/N) said with a smile on his little face.

Bruce raised his glass again, nodding to Theodore and James before downing his scotch.

Kids do put you in your grave and give you gray hairs.

" Where are my brothers? " (Y/N) asked all of a sudden. Bruce might have gave them money to go shopping for the day so they leave the manor and not scare the poor boy.

" They have some plans, but they'll be back soon. "

Thank God scotch has managed soften the blow the wedding revelation.

Thank God that Dick isn't around to hear it.

[cyber333angel]

CAR S*X WITH RAFE <3

you were currently at the country club with your boyfriend rafe, talking and laughing with the people around you. although, today you were a little hyper, shouting across the bar and stumbling across the floor. rafe observed your behavior, waiting for the right time of when you would do just a little too much, planning on taking you home and forcing you to sleep off the energy. he lost his patience when you started getting a little tipsy, knocked the food out of servers hand and ate someone else’s food by accident.

he was a little agitated from your actions seeing as he was actually having a fun time with his friends but he knew you needed to calm down. he finds you talking with your girlfriends and pulls you by the arm. “come with me.” your confused but you trust him as he leads you out the club. “mm rafey are we going home? but I was having fun and I really didn’t mean to knock the food out their hand I just-“ you go on apologizing for your mistakes that you honestly didn’t mean to make but he just flashes you a smile. “s’alright kid we just need to talk for a bit.” you nod, happy that he isn’t upset with you, as he opens the backseat door.

next thing you know your bouncing on his lap, your ass clapping off his thighs as the car is filled with moans and huffs. “feels so’good daddy! oh g-god..” his hands creep down your ass with a firm grip, leading you up and down his cock. “you just needed daddy’s dick huh? wanted all that energy fucked outta you..” nodding frantically you moan, “s’deep rafey! f-feel it..” your pussy flutters around him and you squirm around his thighs. “where do you feel it sweetheart hm? show me how deep I am.” you fumble your hands around your tummy and press on your lower waist, gasping. “h-here..” he coos at you, “t’aw does it hurt baby?” too entranced by how good you feel as you slam your cunt onto his dick, you don’t answer. rafe grips your ass and slams you down roughly on his cock suddenly, making you startle and you gasp, “you answer when i talk to you alright? daddy making you feel good?”

“y-yes m’sorryy..can i cum now daddy? m’gonna make a mess!” he pretends to think it over for a moment and lets you cum from all the pleasured whining, “sure pretty, go on an’make a mess for me.” as he said that your body shook, his fast pace making you cream all over his cock. taking his thumb, he rubs your clit a little action just to tire you out from the stimulation. he watches you with half lidded eyes as you twitch and squirm. rafe being at his limit, pushes a few extra thrust into you letting him release his warm liquid deep into you. you whimper into his shoulder and clench around his length, and rafe sighs into yours catching his breath.

“you tired now baby? we can go back and enjoy the party quietly without being hyper right?” you nod slowly, still a little disoriented from the orgasm. “good girl, let’s get you cleaned up.” he slides you off his cock making you shiver from the great loss, and hooks your panties back to cover your soaked pussy, carful to keep you full of his cum for when you arrive home later. heading back to the country club your sleepy, letting rafe lead the way and find his friends. he pulls up a stool by the bar and sits, letting you climb up and sit on his lap. you lay your head on his shoulder and fall into a light slumber until he was ready to go back home.

[five-miles-over]

Hi Mun 👋🏼 just found your blog off some tags lol

I would love it if you could do an age gap hc for joker? How would Arthur deal with developing feelings for a partner who is 10 or even 15 years younger than him?

Thank you so much!

Thanks for your patience, anon! I truly appreciate it. Also, Arthur's head canon turned into a bit of a fic, so I apologize for that.

Headcanon: Arthur Fleck Having an S/O Younger Than Him

"ID Please."

While Arthur accompanied you to the grocery store after your shift at work, you bought a bottle of wine to enjoy with the dinner you planned to cook for Arthur. He was coming over to your apartment for the first time, and you wanted to spoil him with a recipe you saw on a cooking show. So you bought all the ingredients, and a bottle of red.

The cashier glanced at you. "You're twenty-two huh? You look like you should be in high school."

You shook your head, flustered. "Um...thanks?"

After paying, you quickly left the store with your bagged groceries. But just when you reached for Arthur's hand, he flinched.

You didn't think much of it at first, but when you tried to talk to Arthur about something, he simply shrugged it off and said it was nothing

The truth is that, Arthur was still processing the fact that you were in your early twenties.

He knew you were a young beautiful woman, smart and kind. A total catch. And that part of Arthur, the part of his mind that told him he was an outcast and fed him nothing but negative thoughts, constantly said, "She could do so much better than you. You don't deserve her at all. She's the whole package, and what are you? Just some guy who can't even take her out to dinner."

He tried to hold it back as he saw other, bigger guys in Gotham walking with their partners, giving them bouquets of flowers wrapped in shiny plastic and other gifts, telling himself that someday he would do exactly that with you. But knowing that you were at ten years younger than him? That was just more fuel to the fire burning inside him.

"She's got her whole life ahead of her. She's going to find someone better, wait and see." The negative thoughts materialized again. "She's just with you out of pity. Date the sad clown, maybe she just wants to fool around. Wait and see. She's going to meet someone with a lot of money, a lot of status...She'll marry him, and when they're all sitting around at cocktail parties, she'll laugh about the time she dated a sad clown. And say she dodged a bullet."

"Arthur?" You tried to get his attention, and repeated his name a couple of times. "Arthur?"

Arthur, seemingly lost in thought, didn't respond until you stood in front of him, stopping him from crossing the street. "What happened?"

"Nothing," he lied. You crossed your arms, not having any of it. And this made Arthur laugh a bit, not out of amusement but out of fear. "Nothing, really," he lied again between laughs.

"Just tell me."

After a few moments of silence, Arthur simply asked. "Are you really twenty-two?...You're twenty-two."

"Yes. I am."

"That's young."

You shifted your weight to one foot. "I know that."

Arthur mirrored your gesture and swallowed. "So...well, I don't care. It's just young."

"I'm not that young," you rebuffed.

"Young enough that the cashier thinks you're in high school."

You put your hands on your hips, still carrying the bags of groceries. "Is that what this is about? He wasn't hitting on me!"

"No, but someone will," Arthur raised his voice a little. "You're young, what the hell do you know?"

"I know that you're my boyfriend and I love you. I don't care what some cashier says about me, and neither should you."

He shook his head. God how he loved the way you'd get so stubborn about your opinions. It was one of his favorite things about you, but right now, in this moment, it made him even more annoyed. How could you say such a thing, lying through your teeth? And with those three special words? "Bullshit," Arthur muttered, walking away from you to cross the street.

You followed him, huffing with your groceries. "Arthur Fleck, what is wrong with you?! Can't you just...Why are you so mad? Nothing happened! I'm still the same person I was twenty minutes ago."

"No. You're twenty-two." He turned around and lashed out. "You're twelve years younger than I am. What the hell's wrong with you? Hanging around with some old clown, waiting until some rich guy makes you his wife and you can leave me behind!" Your eyes widened. "Is that what you think of me?" Your lips quivered and tears formed in your eyes. "Is that seriously what you think this is, just...hanging around? Oh my god." You looked down as you felt a tear roll down your cheek.

Arthur visibly softened, reaching his hand out but stopping himself just before he could touch you. "I'm such an idiot," you sniffed. "You're right, what do I know?" "I'm sorry," Arthur sighed. "I didn't mean to make you cry." Arthur looked down, into your eyes. "I...was just shocked that you were younger. I thought it would...I don't deserve you. You're great, you're a perfect girl and I don't deserve you." He added, "I love you so damn much."

"I love you too," you looked up. "And I don't want to leave you." He laughed for a few moments with pain in his eyes, and bit the inside of his cheek to quiet down. "I'm so sorry," Arthur repeated and put his hands on your shoulders. "Oh my god, please don't cry. I'm so sorry." He took your grocery bags in his hands. "Let's go."

You and Arthur went back to your apartment, and didn't talk about your age for the rest of the night. But you did spend the evening together, telling each other - and showing each other - how much you really loved each other.

Joker Having an S/O Younger Than Him Would Include...

In complete contrast to Arthur, Joker finding out you were ten or fifteen years younger than him would excite him

He'd turn it into a complete kink, calling you his "personal little baby doll"

Whenever you'd go out, you'd be on his lap, him stroking your thighs and your hair.

Unless you were absolutely against the aesthetic, Joker would love to dress you in coquettish clothing - plaid mini skirts, knee-high white socks, white and pastel blouses that he would ruin with grease facepaint while making out with you, and corsets he would rip off you before having his way with you

And if you ever called him "daddy"? Watch out and be prepared to be dragged into the most private area by the Joker. Hope you didn't have any plans for the next...hour

In general, the Joker would be extremely protective of you, keeping his arm around your waist while you walked.

He'd spoil you with anything you ever wanted, acting almost like your sugar daddy while you window shopped.

And when it got cold, he'd put his red suit jacket over your shoulders saying, "Daddy's not going to let his baby doll freeze."

[thesilmarillionblog]

𓏲 𓂃 L o s i n g Y o u

Part: 3

Click here to read the first part!

Summary: Everything was good as a member of Payback and Soldier Boy's secret girlfriend until the team and your relationship with him began to fall apart due to a new member and her developing relationship with Ben right in front of your eyes.

Pairing: Soldier Boy / Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, hurt, cruel Soldier Boy, reader gets hurt, mention of violence, betrayal, Soldier Boy being a dick, reader is a supe, Crimson Countess is a bitch

Word Count: 2194

A/N: English is not my first language.

* This story is inspired by the song "Losing You" by Dream Evil.

Ben’s lips parted to say something when you told him that he would never hear you saying those three words again, but he clenched his jaw, and his eyes sharpened with fury.

“Don’t even bother, because those words already mean nothing to me.”

You caught him looking at your lips for a second, but he let go of your chin immediately and pulled himself together like he would kiss you if he waited for another second. His unreadable face was filling your heart with hope since you knew he would be far more different if he really didn’t like you at all as he told.

You walked over to him and gently touched his rough hand, asking, “Then why does it make you mad when I tell you I would leave Payback? If you don't really care at all, why do you want me here with your side so much that you threat me with hurting Noir? Ben, please be honest with yourself, at least. I know you won't be honest with me.”

You looked at him with desperation, pleading him with your eyes and touched his hand like you could never get that chance again. You didn’t understand what exactly caused his soft side to slip in your hands so suddenly, so sharp. What had happened to you exactly? You knew it wasn’t about Crimson or someone else, but you didn’t know the cause behind why you failed to solve the true reason behind all this pain.

You withdrew your hands just before he pushed them away. When you posed those questions, he seemed so confused and lost that you nearly thought he would finally crack and put a stop to the cruelty between you going on. Since you were aware that he wasn't good at expressing his true feelings from the very beginning, you were willing to push him a little. You would fight for it if you had to be the one to help him overcome his inner demons and open himself.

“I won't be giving a fuck seeing you fucking go away if I find a stronger supe than you,” he simply said.

You answered, “Neither the team nor you need a strong one,” knowing what he was talking about was just another lie. “Ben, you never care who is powerful or not as you know you are strongest. Your ego is too big to care about what other people are capable of.”

“What on earth should I tell you to get off my ass and stop bothering the Countess and me, huh, Y/N?” He inquired, showing no interest in what you had to say. It didn't even seem like he was paying attention to what you were saying. “I'm warning you; don't talk to me about love or other bullshit again.”

He retreated a step, sat on the couch, and sniffed the cocaine on the table before his eyes darkened. When your lips parted to respond, he lifted his hand menacingly, to prevent you from say another thing to make him angrier.

He yelled, “Shut the fuck up,” and started sniffing coke before you did, startling you with his unexpected outburst. “Do you think you know me? Are you fucking naïve?”

You also raised your voice, but it was rather shaky, saying, “I do know you.” You eventually lost patience with his attitude because of how much his persistence was getting on your nerves.

“You’re a fucking naïve then,” he chuckled, but his tone was rather angry than amusing. “Get the fuck out of here and leave me alone.”

You turned away, your eyes watering, and opened the door without saying a word to Ben, fearing that he would become enraged since he was too busy getting high like a real jerk. You heard Countess's voice in the distance. She gave you a tiny smirk to irritate you, as she usually does, but you left the trailer without looking at her and without creating any drama.

After a few weeks, you gave up attempting to get in touch with Ben because you could tell he was preoccupied with all the dumb advertisements and other bullshit. You also stopped participating in anything Payback-related, even though you were still required to perform these things along with the rest of the team. You informed Earving that you were completely well and needed some time for yourself, despite the fact that he had visited your home numerous times to check on you.

But it was a lie. You were either ill or simply lovesick. You had a difficult time falling asleep since you could recall every last detail of Ben and Crimson's interactions. They appeared in every movie, television show, and advertisement. It didn't matter if you simply vanished; you couldn't run away from your own sentiments that were killing you or their reality.

Earving told you that Ben was becoming crueler and harsher to him and the rest of the crew every day, but you couldn't really care because you were most likely going through the worst.

After a month, you were compelled to flee your home due to a terrorist attack, and all of the members required you on the battlefield. Ben was busy commanding the soldiers haphazardly, using heavy and hazardous weapons like toys, and showing off his whole range of abilities to them with an arrogant smile on his face.

He was taken aback to see you because you were the last person to enter the territory. Ben walked up to you with a sneaky smile on his face after he dropped the rifle on one of the twins from his shoulder, but you turned your back on him and continued talking to some soldiers to give him courage because you didn't want to hear what Ben was about to say to distress and upset you any more.

You were desperately missing Ben and were helpless for any kind of interaction or words to rekindle your already fading hope, but you were also proud. You were aware of everything that happened between you, and excepted the turth that the wonderful memories between him and you had long faded. More than anyone you didn't get to know, he was more of a stranger than any stranger. You were certain there was nothing left in you for him to break because he had broken your heart so many times. Struggling to change the past and pushing yourself too hard will only exacerbate your situation. You knew the pain wouldn’t fully disappear soon, but it would ease by time.

He didn't move again once you turned your back to him, indicating that you were right to let it go.

After Ben tormented him more severely than ever on your third day on the battlefield, Noir's patience ran out, and he kept saying Ben that he didn't deserve to be a leader and that he was simply a bully on cocaine. Despite your attempts to dissuade Earving from approaching Ben too closely and to push him back before things got physical, he was adamant about ending Ben's leadership.

“You don’t deserve to be the the leader of Payback. All you do is getting high and bullying all of us. All people here looking at us with hatred, not respect and the reasson behind this all is that we don’t have a respectful leader,” Earving said raising his voice.

Knowing that Ben was pretty nerveous espcially nowadays and fearing he was already ready to hurt anyone in the squad, you pushed Noir by his chest back trying to calm him down. He was right about everything, but it wasn’t the way to solve this mess Ben caused. Besides, no one would stand a chance against Soldier Boy. After all, he was indeed the strongest supe.

“Noir, please calm down,” you whispered him as if no one would hear you. “Don’t do this.”

Your body clenched with terror, knowing that he would be severely wounded by Ben, who was already looking for a small excuse to beat him up. Earving was digging his own grave for sure.

“What’s wrong with you?” Earving suddenly snapped, pushing your hands from him. “Why do you even support him?”

“Violence with get you nowhere,” you said sharply, implying he must stop or he’ll be the one to get hurt.

“And what the fuck will you do about this, huh?” Ben asked with an evil smirk on his face. “You just fucking disrespected me, you fucking weak fuckface. All you do is whining like a newborn baby yet you crave for respect and all shit.”

When you saw Ben make a move to face Earving, you stopped between them to prevent what was to come. Some soldiers were watching you all with curiosity, and some with fear.

“Ben,” you said with a serious tone. “Let’s not make a scene and let others talk behind you. How can they even respect you if you lay a hand on one of us? This won’t be good for your reputation; you know this.”

Instead of taking a step back and pressing his anger down, your effort to save Noir made him see red.

“Will you now fucking defend him against me?” Ben glared at your hands, which were tightly gripping his suit, and said, “Step fucking aside or you'll get hurt first.”

As you take a step back, you realize how you came so close to Ben without recognizing it, despite your repeated assurances to yourself to keep away from him. He had done many things to you lately, but it was the first time he threatened you with such severity.

Just as you are about to react, you hear Crimson approaching Ben.

Placing a touch on Earving's arm, you showed your understanding and concern for him when you noticed him fisting his fists and standing motionless. It was Ben's harsh attitude toward nothing that he got in return for all the respect he deserved, which was all he asked for. Although Earving had been performing rather well up until this point, everyone has their limitations.

“You know, you shouldn't let others treat Soldier Boy disrespectfully,” Crimson said as she gave you one of her venomous glances. “When Black Noir tries to seize control of the team and instigate a revolt, how can people still acknowledge Soldier Boy as the team's strongest supe and leader? How are you even going to support it, Y/N?”

She scowled and remained by Ben's side, uttering more venomous things to incite Ben's hatred of you. Simply because you were aware of Ben's vulnerability to manipulation over his authority, you took a deep breath and declared, “I'm not supporting any of this. Who the hell are you to read Noir's intentions that way?”

Ben raised his finger right up to your face, his eyes were darkened with disappointment. “So, that’s it. You fucking betrayed me for that cocksucker.”

Your eyes burned with fury as the corner of the Countess’ lips curled with satisfaction.

“Are you really talking about betrayal now?” You raised your voice as your hands were in fist now.

Earving felt your hazardous tension with Soldier Boy, and your fury subsided his own anger. You pushed his hands away from you, even though he touched your shoulder to convey his support for you in a gentle way.

You could see how effortlessly the Countess was able to influence Ben; your eyes were burning with pain. You had come to terms with the idea that he couldn't see his actual emotions through them, but it appeared he couldn't see yours either.

He'd pretended to be concerned about you, deceived you, threatened you, and now accused you of betraying him. But the truth was, he was the one who did them. You didn’t know if he was blind or just a coward who couldn’t even face himself.

“You know what?” Ben angrily remarked, “Since you wanted to go away from the team so much, you can fucking leave now. You are free to fucking go.”

With a heavy heart, you murmured, “Fine. Neither do I want to be a part of this.”

Next Chapter

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A/N: I had planned Losing You to be a one-shot story, but it seems it will take a little more chapters to make a final. Comments and reblogs are very appreciated!

Taglist: @mostlymarvelgirl @xmariakx @spnfamily-j2 @suspicious-stain-in-spain @atomicsoulcollecto @yvonneeeee @starryperson

Let me know if you want to be tagged for this series. <3

[lynnlovesthestars]

Could I request headcanons for Harleep, Astarion, Gale, Wyll, Halsin, Dammon, Rolan, and Zevlor with kind and patient gn s/o? This is quite self-indulgent of me because I have been told I'm too nice & so patient so I'm curious how they would react XD

first of all sorry for being so late, but my small brain has to process things multiple times to make sense, so i wrote this like... 5 times? So it takes me a while, but i hope that waiting was worth it.

Also i saw you sent a second ask to see if i recieved this one, so ill put dammon and rolan there cause this is starting to get a bit long:3<3 thank you so much for your patience!:3

Taglist: @sessils @spacebarbarianweird

Headcanon: BG3 men with kind and patient s/o. (pt. 1)

Zevlor:

Zevlor is emotionally a wreck already, he considers kindness a virtue and it definitely makes him swoon when he notices you put extra care in making sure he's treated with kindness. At the end of the day, he basically got bullied on all fronts when all he really wants is to prove himself worthy of the title he carried for so long.

Zevlor has a short temper too, and he appreciates so much your effort and patience in dealing with his outbursts, whether they are of rage- not towards you of course- or of sadness, you offer always a shoulder for him and he cherishes it so much.

He is lowkey jealous when he notices that your kindness is not mostly exclusive to him, he has learned that people can abuse one's patience and care, and 1. he doesn't want you to get hurt, 2. he wishes your kindness was maybe reserved to him. Call him selfish, but after being deprived of it for so long, he is hesitant to let go of it.

Astarion:

Initially he would be very wary, in his experience being nice always lead to him getting hurt, so why would he trust someone who's default reply is kindness? At the end of the day the last time someone was '''''kind''''' to him, he was turned in a vampire spawn, so he takes it extra slow, he has just regained control over himself, he won't blindly accept kindness. He's lowkey afraid you are just part of a bigger scheme that will bite him in the ass and leave him shackled and caged again.

Once he gets accustomed to your kindness and finally accepts it, he revels in the kindness you offer and your patience, especially the smallest gestures like opening a door for him. He will literally melt for it, he's already smitten, your kindness leaves him like mush in your hands.

Nevetheless every good side, comes with a negative one. He is dead afraid your kindness will bring you to get hurt. He often reminds you to be weary and keep all your kindness for people you trust (HIM), rather than going around and helping every lost soul that asks for help. He will fight you on this a few times- especially if you do get hurt or it is obvious you are about to- he will not bite his tongue and keep it for himself, and that's one of the moments when he's glad you are patient.

You understand where it comes from and you try your best to find a solution that would make both happy. Your patience of course doesn't stop there, he knows he's an handful: he carries an heavy trauma baggage and he has a feisty personality, yet you always show him you don't mind, that you are there for him and that he can take all the time of the universe to sort his problems out.

Wyll:

Wyll would find it so endearing, how you are ready to go to someone's aid, you stop on your tracks to support someone in need, and he would love seeing you being kind to everyone. It's probably one of the reasons why he falls in love with you. Unlike Astarion he encourages you to be kind to everyone, cause he considers it a virtue, he incourages you to be the best version of yourself, and he reminds you that if you do get hurt, he will be there to pick up the pieces.

As far as patience goes, he's grateful to the moon and back, he knows he is an handful, especially if he doesn't break his pact with Mizora and has to leave more times than ever. He makes sure once he's back though that he makes up for lost time, whether it is with gifts or by taking care of you.

Haarlep:

Harleep is so used to Raphael that honestly he's taken aback at first, living in the hells means that kindness is hard to come by and around Raphael? It's either a trick or a miracle, so he brushes it off, not repelled like Astarion would, but definitely not eager like Wyll either.. he would be probably the one that takes it as it is, just.. that. But when he gets used to it? He becomes unsufferable. So unsufferable that he goes around demanding Raphael to be treated with kindness and patience! He purrs whenever you are nice even the smallest, thanking you and praising you like a goddess. He even tries to be nice himself- to you only- and despite it has to be and effort, since he has never been exposed to much kindness, he does become a little more mindful, even asking before taking your form or just with small acts of services.

One time Rapahel makes sure to send a message to you through him. "Tav, Raphael asked you stop being nice to me, cause if i demand it from him as well, he's going to turn me into fertilizer", message delivered with a pout that begs exactly the opposite.

Harleep is another that is deeply afraid of your kindness. Let's be real, you can defend yourself as much as you want, but people tend to use people and your kindness is one of those characteristics evil people would pry on- he knows well since its literally part of what he does, and a facet of what Raphael does as well. He probably scolds you a lot for this reason, he does it in a sweet way- don't get me wrong- he sugarcoats the shit out of it, but he will let you know when you are about to get in peril or you are too careless with your kindness.

Gale:

Gale is touched by your kindness, already from the first days after meeting him.

You had helped him out of his blotched portal, you fed him artifacts, you didn't question his secrets or push him to reveal anything, and he doesn't give that for granted. Once he's closer to you, and he learns that you are unconditionally kind to everyone, he's scared.

He starts warning you to be a little less nice, to use your judgement before you blindly trust a stranger, but he doesn't push it past a warning. As much as he wants to protect you, he doesn't want to take away your chance to grow from your errors.

In matter of your patience he's so grateful, he spends days thanking you when he's still afflicted with the orb condition, he cooks as a form of apology or thanks depending what he did, he gets baths started for you, he's treating you as a queen/ king. He alread would do it, but with you? He's even more protective, he almost feels like he has to match your kindness and patience with as much attentions he can muster.

Halsin:

Halsin is a fair man you think he wishes everyone was kind, but he actually wants you to be fair, he wants you to be mindful of who you give kindness to, he wants you to be a reasonable judge rather than unconditionally nice cause it is the way of the nature as well. Nature is not only nurturing and lush, it's also the poisonous vipers and herbs.

Does he appreciate when you are kind? Absolutely, he thinks it's the best gift Silvanus has ever bestowed him, but it doesn't take away the fact that he wants you to be treated kindly as well, so the moment someone crosses the line and starts abusing your kindness or becomes rude, he's definitely stepping in to s h a m e the other person. "You are lucky you have met Tav, cause they are kind, but nature wouldn't be so understanding and patient" He says it with a rage you rarely see in his eyes.

He will do his best to remind you to surely practice kindness but also to be mindful who you help and who you are kind to, cause there's always rotten that can harm you, and lowkey if you get hurt he will invite you to take back what you gave.

Despite this Halsin considers kindness the bare minimum a person should be, and what stops him from encouraging you to be kinder, its just the knowledge that you might get hurt.

[blackenedsnow]

hi! i love your writing :)

i head canon that shadow volunteers for mental health organizations where they help people because he’s been there himself and wants to help people.

can you do a platonic shadow x reader one shot on that? reader is an extremely mentally ill person that shadow finds at the place he volunteers?

a quiet kind of hope

WARNING: Themes of severe depression, intrusive thoughts, implied self-isolation.

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog & Reader

NOTE: Hi!! Oh my gosh, thank you for this sweet request. Shadow volunteering for mental health organizations is such a perfect headcanon—I love the idea of him channeling his past struggles into helping others. Thank you for trusting me with something so tender. Please take care of yourself. Sending love your way <333

SUMMARY: At a community mental health center where Shadow volunteers, he finds himself drawn to you—a quiet, lost soul in need of someone who understands.

The fluorescent lights of the community center hummed faintly above as you sat tucked into a corner, knees drawn to your chest. People came and went, their footsteps echoing against the scuffed linoleum floor, but no one seemed to notice you—or if they did, they didn’t stop.

You weren’t sure why you’d come here. Maybe it was the promise of a warm drink, or the idea that someone might listen without judgment. Maybe it was just somewhere to go when the walls of your apartment felt too heavy to bear.

Shadow walked past with his usual quiet purpose. He didn’t hover or pry, but his presence was impossible to ignore. He was there enough to seem imposing, yet somehow still approachable—his crimson eyes catching the light like embers as he glanced around the room.

It wasn’t until his third lap near your corner that he finally paused.

“You’re not here for the coffee,” he said, his voice low but not unkind.

Startled, you looked up at him. Shadow didn’t sit; he crouched down instead, resting one arm on his knee to meet you at eye level.

“Are you waiting for someone?” he asked.

You shook your head. Words felt too heavy to form.

Shadow tilted his head, studying you. There was no pity in his gaze—only patience. He knew better than to push for answers you weren’t ready to give.

“I’m Shadow,” he said after a moment. “I volunteer here. If you need anything—or if you just want to sit quietly—that’s fine.”

His presence was steady, like an anchor. You nodded hesitantly, unsure if he would leave or stay. To your surprise, he moved to sit on the floor nearby, keeping enough distance to give you space but staying close enough to show he wasn’t going anywhere.

For a long while, neither of you spoke.

It became a pattern over the next few weeks. Shadow never forced you to talk, never asked for more than you were willing to share. Sometimes, you’d sit in silence while he worked on paperwork or handed out supplies to other visitors. Other times, he’d offer simple observations—a comment about the weather, or a quiet remark about how the coffee was even worse than usual today.

He made it easy to exist without expectations.

One day, when the room was emptier than usual, you finally found the courage to speak.

“Why do you do this?” you asked, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

Shadow glanced up from his clipboard. For a moment, he looked almost surprised.

“I’ve been where you are,” he said simply. “I know what it’s like to feel… stuck. Like there’s no way out. I had help when I needed it. This is my way of paying it forward.”

His honesty was disarming. You stared at your hands, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve.

“It doesn’t feel like it’ll get better,” you admitted.

“It doesn’t, at first,” Shadow said. “But it can. Slowly. The first step is the hardest—you took it when you walked in here.”

His words settled over you like a blanket—not an instant cure, but a quiet reassurance. For the first time in weeks, the weight on your chest felt just a little lighter.

Over time, your conversations grew longer. Shadow never pushed you to share more than you were comfortable with, but he listened intently to everything you said. He remembered the little details—your favorite tea, the book you were slowly working through, the things that scared you most on bad days.

In his own way, he showed you that it was okay to take up space in the world.

You didn’t realize how much you’d come to rely on his presence until one evening, when the community center was unusually quiet. You’d been lost in thought, staring at the fading light outside, when Shadow appeared beside you with two steaming cups of tea.

“For you,” he said, setting one down carefully.

You blinked up at him. “Thank you. For everything.”

Shadow’s expression softened, just enough for you to notice.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said. “You’re doing the hard part. I’m just here to remind you that you’re not alone.”

But one day…

The space you usually occupied in the corner of the center was empty.

Shadow’s sharp gaze swept across the room again, as if expecting you to appear any moment, but the hours ticked by, and the door remained closed.

It wasn’t unusual for people to miss a day here or there—life had a way of pulling people in unpredictable directions—but this wasn’t like you. You came to the center every time it was open, like clockwork, even on the days when you barely said a word.

Shadow couldn’t ignore the heavy feeling settling in his chest.

“You looking for someone?” one of the other volunteers asked as she packed up for the night.

Shadow nodded, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. “Yes. A regular.”

She smiled sympathetically. “Maybe they just needed a break. Sometimes it’s overwhelming for folks.”

“Maybe,” Shadow replied, but the doubt in his voice was evident.

He stayed a little longer than usual, tidying up stray cups and chairs as an excuse to linger. When it became clear you weren’t coming, he left, stepping out into the cold night air.

The thought of you walking home alone—head down, shoulders hunched—stuck in his mind.

The next day, you still didn’t show.

Shadow’s unease grew, twisting into something sharper. He tried to focus on his tasks, but his mind kept circling back to the hollow ache in his chest. He hated how familiar it felt.

When the center closed that evening, he made a decision. He wasn’t the type to sit around waiting for answers.

He remembered fragments of things you’d shared in passing—your neighborhood, the street you lived on. Shadow wasn’t one to pry, but he had a way of listening closely, piecing together the little details others might miss.

The streets were quiet as he walked, the night heavy with the kind of stillness that pressed against his ears. He found your building easily enough: a squat, aging structure with peeling paint and a flickering light by the entrance.

He climbed the stairs quickly, his footsteps echoing faintly.

When Shadow knocked, there was no answer.

He tried again, harder this time. “It’s me,” he called. “Shadow.”

For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, faintly, he heard movement inside.

“Go away,” came your voice, muffled and small.

Shadow’s ears twitched. You sounded exhausted—hollow in a way he hadn’t heard before.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.” he said, his tone firm but not harsh. “But I need to know you’re okay.”

Another long pause. Eventually, the door creaked open just a crack.

You didn’t meet his eyes. Your face was tired, your shoulders hunched as if the weight of the world was pressing down on you.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, but the words were unconvincing even to yourself.

Shadow’s gaze softened. “You’re not.”

The door opened a little wider, and he could see the state of your apartment—the cluttered surfaces, the curtains drawn tight against the light. It was clear you hadn’t been taking care of yourself, and the sight of it made something tighten in his chest.

“I didn’t want to go today,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t want to do… anything.”

Shadow stepped inside carefully, closing the door behind him. He didn’t speak right away, giving you time to retreat to the edge of your bed. You sat with your head in your hands, your breaths uneven.

“I know how that feels,” he said quietly, moving to sit on the floor near you. “Sometimes the world feels too big. Like you can’t face it.”

Your fingers curled tighter into your hair. “It’s not just that,” you said, your voice cracking. “It’s… everything. It’s all wrong, and I can’t fix it. I’m just—” You stopped, choking back a sob.

“You’re overwhelmed,” Shadow finished for you, his voice steady. “That doesn’t make you weak.”

Your breathing hitched.

Shadow leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. “You’ve survived this long. That means you’re stronger than you think.”

His words weren’t flowery or overly comforting—they were simple, grounded in truth.

“Why do you care so much?” you asked, your voice raw.

“I told you before. I’ve been there,” he said without hesitation. “I know how lonely it feels. I’m not going to let somebody drown in it.”

Shadow stayed with you that night. He didn’t push you to talk, but he also didn’t leave. He tidied the room quietly, opened the curtains to let in the moonlight, and made sure you drank a glass of water before you finally lay down.

As you drifted off, his words lingered in your mind: You’re not alone.

For the first time in days, it felt like you weren’t.