#who here watches t.100……

[silvernyxa]

[hesmuchmoreimportant]

Once Upon a Time in Wonderland | Tweedledum + Everything Everywhere All At Once

I know you see yourself as a fighter. I see myself as one, too. This is how I fight.

[obsessedwrhys]

Can we have a part 2 Deadpool reader with the boys and maybe soldier boy too❓❓ if you want to of course

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ The Boys x Deadpool!Reader

t/w: loooots of dark humour/jokes, reader's origin will be explained underneath, reader is still an asshole lol that comes with the character, mention about killing,death,gore, weed, drugs, Reader is gn!!!

ᯓ★ here's a version with the seven, kiss kiss <3

Origin:

Quick summary, when you were born, your parents had agreed with Vought to have you be pumped full of Compound V so you could grow up and be a hero working under them, but the problem was when you were around 7, they changed their mind so Vought ended up sending several people to come to your house to settle the matter.

Your whole family was massacred in the living room during thanksgiving and when they tried to capture you. You were able to run away. Homeless and living on the street, you grew up in a life of crime, depending on nobody but yourself. Make sense? No? Good! Let's start now.

BUTCHER

To him, you were like a fly that won't leave him alone.

How he knew you was through Mallory, she thought you were okay and fit for the job since you hated Vought just as much.

Obviously he didn't like you once you were introduced to him and the two (M.M and Frenchie)

"No way am I lettin' a supe join us"

":("

Though after what happened to Mallory's grandchildren, the gang pretty much dispersed but wherever Butcher went, you followed. Since he was the only person you trusted... and also enjoy annoying the shit out of.

He'd head inside a club, relieved he hadn't seen you for the past few days so he decided to grab a drink by the bar to unwind.

"Whiskey" He said with his eyes looking around, paranoia shown on his face.

Once his drink was served, he would look back to find your eyes smiling at him, you were wearing a bartender disguise over your red suit.

"Did you miss me?"

"Oh christ..."

When you heard word that he was gathering back the team, you had to be there. What kind of friend would you be if you didn't?

Undoubtedly he had to admit, there were times where he was grateful to have you on the team but there were also other times he regretted it.

For example, that time when you guys needed to sneak into a lab to get something and the goal was to stay quiet but even that simple rule was hard for you to follow.

"Room's up ahead. (Y/N) I need you to—"

"Heads up!" You said as you threw a bomb at the metal door.

The explosion causing the alarm to turn on and it had the whole lab now on high alert. You shrug innocently when Butcher glared at you like he wanted to tear you apart.

Also, you enjoy constantly pissing him off. You can't die so you don't really care if he'll kill you for it.

"Maybe, if you didn' press the fuckin' button, we wouldn't have to come bac' to save yer ass from the guards"

"OOH GOD SAVE THE QUEEEN!! Please, cry me a fucking river. I got us the target didn't I?"

"He's dead"

"Well you weren't being specific when you said to capture him"

But it's fine, all his frustration will be solved once he uses you as bait. He knows you can't die but hey, it makes him feel slightly better watching you get shot at.

Despite your ups and downs, he appreciates you. When the team would turn against him on his insane journey for revenge, he always found you the only one still standing by his side. You're loyal and he likes that.

Compatibility? 75%

HUGHIE

You treat him like a child.

No seriously you baby talk him sometimes and it annoys him

"Awwwww is little hughie angry?"

"Stop..."

"Does baby want his milky?"

Since he's pretty much the only person who isn't that exposed to crime as the others, he's terrified 100% everytime when he's paired up to do any dirty work with you.

"Now listen buddy, you better start talking or I'm gonna shoot" You said, gun raised at the man who seemed to be begging you to spare his life in a language you didn't speak.

"I don't think he speaks English"

"Ah shit... ENGLISH!! SPEAK!! ABCDEFG??!"

"How is shouting in English gonna make him understand?"

"Eh, you're right"

BANG

"WHY'D YOU SHOOT HIM??!"

"Well did you expect me to pull out Duolingo and start taking classes?!"

You had to admit, it was a pain in the ass each time he starts giving you the cold shoulder whenever he gets mad at you for doing something terrible. It was like his way of guilt tripping you so you always try to apologise in your own ways.

"Hey..." You said, handing him ice cream.

"...I uh... I don’t like Strawberry ice cream... I thought I told you that"

"God you're so ungrateful!!"

Since he was such a scaredy cat, you try to tone down your craziness a bit. For the sake of him not going into cardiac arrest.

"(Y/N) STOP!! She has nothing to do with this!! She was tricked" Hughie grabbed you by the arm to pull your gun away from the innocent woman.

You turn your head to look at him, then at the woman, then at him again, then the woman, then him again.

"Ugh finnnne... you're boring..."

However, he does appreciate you trying to be a better person. Even you had to admit, after you met him and became friends. You noticed yourself being less brutal than you used to be. The thought keeps you awake at night and it scares the shit out of you.

But oh well, how could you ever say no to those scared little puppy eyes?

Compatibility? 55%

FRENCHIE

He's like your hype man which is concerning.

Not because you're not afraid to get the job done but also because you always have his back.

"Well... I need some gunpowder but I've run out of them" Frenchie said, telling Butcher that the plan was most likely not gonna happen.

"Hold on" You said with the typical comical ☝🏻 gesture before heading into a different room. Everyone exchanging confused glances at what you could possibly be doing.

After a few minutes you'd return with a bag of gunpowder while struggling to zip up your pants with the other hand.

"Don't tell me how I got it. It almost tore me apart" You said, rubbing your ass.

On stressful nights, you guys would enjoy smoking weed together by the sofa and share stories of your traumatic childhood. It's how you guys bond and it's oddly wholesome.

Also when he needs a shoulder to cry on, you were always there for him. You two shared a type of relationship that even Romeo and Juliet couldn't compete with. To be fair they're dead so they actually can't fight.

"Hey reader!! If you're gonna keep reading then you might as well give the post a like or a repost. C'mon, pleassssseeee pleasepleaseplease"

"Ma cerise, who are you talking to?"

Although he doesn't mind your behaviour sometimes but he won't tolerate it if you ever cross the line on something. He's like the owner who sprays water at his pet cat when they don't listen.

"What are you mad at me for?!?!"

"You damn near tried to get us killed!!"

"Hey! You're the one who said it would be a suicide mission so I made sure it was a suicide mission!!"

"WHAT?"

There's no way he can deny how curious he is about where you get your guns and things. He once went in your room to find boxes of dynamite and a RPG just placed against the wall like furniture.

Like do you have a supplier or are you your own supplier?

Compatibility? 99.9%

M.M

Everybody deserves second chances.

He always tells him that to calm himself down everytime you managed to fuck up a thoroughly planned mission.

"What did I say about pressing buttons (Y/N)?"

"Honestly I stopped paying attention after you said 'Listen here'."

M.M has to be the only person you fear to the fact you try very hard to avoid him, this is because his long ass lectures are such a pain to deal with.

"How many times do I have to remind you? You can't just go around doing shit like that. You gotta consider the amount of danger you'll put everyone in..."

"(Blah blah blah... he's still going... uggggh... make it stop...!)"

Unable to handle the lecture any longer, you ended up shooting yourself in the head.

"(Y/N)!" His tone more disappointed than concern since this wasn't the first time you did this to escape his talks.

You know that russian dollhouse he tries to build in season 2? Well you'd constantly be found standing or sitting near him when he's trying to finish the set.

Since you're aware of his OCD, you like to edge him on by sometimes rearranging the parts or stealing some of it so he ends up searching high and low for the missing parts.

You had to admit it was entertaining to watch him accuse other people for touching his stuff when it was you behind all the schemes.

I'd like to think that after every mission when you happen to die, he'd be the one in charge of collecting your remains so you'd grow back.

That's why it comes naturally that his job is to make sure you don't do anything extreme.

"Where are my bombs??!?!" You'd shout, storming around the place looking for them.

"I sold them. Thought it'd do us more good knowing you won’t accidentally blow us up"

"WHAT?! GOD! It's like the writers of the show couldn't afford another explosion for this season so they had to use this DUMB of an excuse!!"

Though he does see some good in you through the messed up parts, he once saw you give his daughter a cute teddy bear when they've been burned by Vought.

She still has the bear and M.M likes to think that maybe you have a soft spot for kids since you never had a proper childhood. That's why he chooses to understand you rather than just being ignorant about your behaviour.

Compatibility? 80%

KIMIKO

She finds you a little odd but she doesn't mind once she realises how everyone is used to you being like that.

Whenever you're bored, you'd come to see what she was up to. Just imagine you sitting on the sofa like a curious kid as you watch her write alphabets on the book.

She also tries to communicate with you since she thought maybe your fucked up mind would understand her better in a way. Like how in season 2 she was repeatedly writing 'boy' to Frenchie but he didn't understand, so she came to you.

"Woow... watching you try to talk to me is like watching a baby take it's first breath..."

"😐"

"It's beautiful..."

Turns out her theory was wrong, you had a harder time understanding her compared to the rest.

Since you're the only two people in the group with powers, most of the time you two are sent on dangerous missions together. It's a nightmare for her because everybody knows communication is key but one is mute and the other doesn't listen.

"(Be quiet! There's people in the other room!)" She'd sign to you but you were busy humming a song while throwing around the enemies equipment.

"Oooh, what's this?" You held up a Homelander figurine which made you laugh as you show it to her.

"Hey look! 'I'm Homelander, I'm God's favourite. I play golf with Jesus every Sunday."

"(Can you please take this seriously?)"

"You're right, you gotta stop messing around Kimiko! We have a target to kill here" You said and you threw the figurine away which apparently clashes into a stack of boxes that came crashing down. The sound making everyone inside the building grab their weapons and began cornering you two in the room.

"😡"

"Okay that wasn't me that was gravity"

For the boys, you were plan A and she was plan B. That's because you always end up rushing into a fight first which most of the time resulted in you getting dismembered, which she later comes in to save you.

For example when Stormfront had stopped you guys, your bright ass thought it was a good idea to charge at her even though everyone was signalling you to stop. Next thing you know you were just a head being carried by M.M, you ended up watching as Kimiko fought Stormfront with the help of Starlight and Queen Maeve.

"That's my girl!! Now can anyone lend me a hand? I think I lost mine"

Compatibility? 97%

Bonus +

SOLDIER BOY

You know the scene where he walks out of his containment with the gas surrounding him? You swore when you watched him step out butt naked, you could hear angels singing and trumpets playing inside your head.

Shockingly enough, he was the only person who appreciated your humour. Could be a generation thing. He's just relieved not everyone has gone soft over the years.

In a way, you feel like you've become his babysitter. Everytime Butcher and Hughie left to do some business, you were in charge of making sure he doesn't blow up anyone. You kept him entertained so he didn't mind. That's why on the hunt for his former team members, he immediately chose you to be by his side.

"I'll take red with me"

"Red as in the american flag or the russians?" You asked which had him do the typical boomer laugh.

"I like you, you're funny" He said with a strong pat on your shoulder.

Butcher doesn't mind you with him cause he trusts that you can keep him under control. Hughie on the other hand isn't sure if you can even keep yourself under control.

"Shhh... wait... do you hear that?"

"Ah shit, did I accidentally said my dirty thoughts out loud? It's just you look breedable in that suit"

Another thing he likes about you is that you're okay with killing pretty much anyone, just try not to overstep cause that could potentially piss him off.

"I told you he's mine" He said as he had you pinned against one of the trees, apparently you had shot Mindstorm in the head when he literally made it clear to you minutes ago that was his kill.

"Quite possessive aren't you? I can recommended a therapist I know. Her names Martha—"

"You shut your mouth before I shove my shield up your ass"

"Gasp don't you DARE threaten me with a good time!!"

At the end of Season 3, you would obviously side with Butcher when everyone started to turn against Soldier Boy. He had to admit he was kinda hurt though, he expected you to be on his side.

"So what? You're crawling back to him now? After what we've been through?"

"Sorry big daddy, but Butcher has been my day one and I also happen to love him veryvery much"

Cue Butcher rolling his eyes out of disgust.

Compatibility? 100% but after the betrayal? 0% 😔

[mostlysignssomeportents]

"Efficiency" left the Big Three vulnerable to smart UAW tactics

Tomorrow (September 22), I'm (virtually) presenting at the DIG Festival in Modena, Italy. Tomorrow night, I'll be in person at LA's Book Soup for the launch of Justin C Key's "The World Wasn’t Ready for You." On September 27, I'll be at Chevalier's Books in Los Angeles with Brian Merchant for a joint launch for my new book The Internet Con and his new book, Blood in the Machine.

It's been 143 days since the WGA went on strike against the Hollywood studios. While early tactical leaks from the studios had studio execs chortling and twirling their mustaches about writers caving once they started losing their homes, the strikers aren't wavering – they're still out there, pounding the picket lines, every weekday:

https://www.cnbc.com/2023/08/09/how-hollywood-writers-make-ends-meet-100-days-into-the-writers-guild-strike.html

The studios obviously need writers. That gleeful, anonymous studio exec who got such an obvious erotic charge at the thought of workers being rendered homeless as punishment for challenging his corporate power completely misread the room, and his comments didn't demoralize the writers. Instead, they inspired the actors to go on strike, too.

But how have the writers stayed out since May Day? How have the actors stayed out for 69 days since their strike started on Bastille Day? We can thank the studios for that! As it turns out, the studios have devoted so much energy to rendering creative workers as precarious as possible, hiring as little as they can getting away with and using punishing overtime as a substitute for adequate staffing that they've eliminated all the workers who can't survive on side-hustles and savings for six or seven months at a time.

But even for those layoff-hardened workers, long strikes are brutal, and of course, all the affiliated trades, from costumers to grips, are feeling the pain. The strike fund only goes so far, and non-striking, affected workers don't even get that. That's why I've been donating regularly to the Entertainment Community Fund, which helps all affected workers out with cash transfers (I just gave them another $500):

https://secure2.convio.net/afa/site/Donation2?df_id=8117&8117.donation=form1&mfc_pref=T

As hot labor summer is revealed as a turning point – not just a season – long strikes will become the norm. Bosses still don't believe in worker power, and until they get their minds right, they're going to keep on trying to starve their workforces back inside. To get a sense of how long workers will have to hold out, just consider the Warrior Met strike, where Alabama coal-miners stayed out for 23 months:

https://www.thenation.com/article/activism/warrior-met-strike-union/

As Kim Kelly explained to Adam Conover in the latest Factually podcast, the Alabama coal strikers didn't get anywhere near the attention that the Hollywood strikers have enjoyed:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UvyMHf7Yg0Q

(To learn more about the untold story of worker organizing, from prison unions to the key role that people of color and women played in labor history, check out Kelly's book, "Fight Like Hell," now in paperback:)

https://www.simonandschuster.com/books/Fight-Like-Hell/Kim-Kelly/9781982171063

Which brings me to the UAW strike. This is an historic strike, the first time that the UAW has struck all of the Big Three automakers at once. Past autoworkers' strikes have marked turning points for all American workers. The 1945/46 GM strike established employers' duty to cover worker pensions, health care, and cost of living allowances. The GM strike created the American middle-class:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-18-uaw-strikes-built-american-middle-class/

The Big Three are fighting for all the marbles here. They are refusing to allow unions to organize EV factories. Given that no more internal combustion cars will be in production in just a few short years, that's tantamount to eliminating auto unions altogether. The automakers are flush with cash, including billions in public subsidies from multiple bailouts, along with billions more from greedflation price-gouging. A long siege is inevitable, as the decimillionaires running these companies earn their pay by starving out their workers:

https://www.businessinsider.com/general-motors-ceo-mary-barra-salary-auto-workers-strike-uaw-2023-9

The UAW knows this, of course, and their new leadership – helmed by the union's radical president Shawn Fain – has a plan. UAW workers are engaged in tactical striking, shutting down key parts of the supply chain on a rolling basis, making the 90-day strike fund stretch much farther:

https://prospect.org/blogs-and-newsletters/tap/2023-09-18-labors-militant-creativity/

In this project, they are greatly aided by Big Car's own relentless pursuit of profit. The automakers – like every monopolized, financialized sector – have stripped all the buffers and slack out of their operations. Inventory on hand is kept to a bare minimum. Inputs are sourced from the cheapest bidder, and they're brought to the factory by the lowest-cost option. Resiliency – spare parts, backup machinery – is forever at war with profits, and profits have won and won and won, leaving auto production in a brittle, and easily shattered state.

This is especially true for staffing. Automakers are violently allergic to hiring workers, because new workers get benefits and workplace protection. Instead, the car companies routinely offer "voluntary" overtime to their existing workforce. By refusing this overtime, workers can kneecap production, without striking.

Enter "Eight and Skate," a campaign among UAW workers to clock out after their eight hour shift. As Keith Brower Brown writes for Labor Notes, the UAW organizers are telling workers that "It’s crossing an unofficial picket line to work overtime. It’s helping out the company":

https://labornotes.org/2023/09/work-extra-during-strike-auto-workers-say-eight-and-skate

Eight and Skate has already started to work; the Buffalo Ford plant can no longer run its normal weekend shifts because workers are refusing to put in voluntary overtime. Of course, bosses will strike back: the next step will be forced overtime, which will lead to the unsafe conditions that unionized workers are contractually obliged to call paid work-stoppages over, shutting down operations without touching the strike fund.

What's more, car bosses can't just halt safety stoppages or change the rules on overtime; per the UAW's last contract, bosses are required to bargain on changes to overtime rules:

https://uaw.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/09/Working-Without-Contract-FAQ-FINAL-2.pdf

Car bosses have become lazily dependent on overtime. At GM's "highly profitable" SUV factory in Arlington, TX, normal production runs a six-days, 24 hours per day. Workers typically work five eight-hour days and nine hours on Saturdays. That's been the status quo for 11 years, but when bosses circulated the usual overtime signup sheet last week, every worker wrote "a big fat NO" next to their names.

Writing for The American Prospect, David Dayen points out that this overtime addiction puts a new complexion on the much-hyped workerpocalypse that EVs will supposedly bring about. EVs are much simpler to build than conventional cars, the argument goes, so a US transition to EVs will throw many autoworkers out of work:

https://prospect.org/labor/2023-09-20-big-threes-labor-shortages-uaw/

But the reality is that most autoworkers are doing one and a half jobs already. Reducing the "workforce" by a third could leave all these workers with their existing jobs, and the 40-hour workweek that their forebears fought for at GM inn 1945/46. Add to that the additional workers needed to make batteries, build and maintain charging infrastructure, and so on, and there's no reason to think that EVs will weaken autoworker power.

And as Dayen points out, this overtime addiction isn't limited to cars. It's also endemic to the entertainment industry, where writers' "mini rooms" and other forms of chronic understaffing are used to keep workforces at a skeleton crew, even when the overtime costs more than hiring new workers.

Bosses call themselves job creators, but they have a relentless drive to destroy jobs. If there's one thing bosses hate, it's paying workers – hence all the hype about AI and automation. The stories about looming AI-driven mass unemployment are fairy tales, but they're tailor made for financiers who get alarming, life-threatening priapism at the though of firing us all and replacing us with shell-scripts:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/03/09/autocomplete-worshippers/#the-real-ai-was-the-corporations-that-we-fought-along-the-way

This is why Republican "workerism" rings so hollow. Trump's GOP talks a big game about protecting "workers" (by which they mean anglo men) from immigrants and "woke captialism," but they have nothing to say about protecting workers from bosses and bankers who see every dime a worker gets as misappropriated from their dividend.

Unsurprisingly, conservative message-discipline sucks. As Luke Savage writes in Jacobin, for every mealymouthed Josh Hawley mouthing talking points that "support workers" by blaming China and Joe Biden for the Big Three's greed, there's a Tim Scott, saying the quiet part aloud:

https://jacobin.com/2023/09/republicans-uaw-strike-hawley-trump-scott/

Quoth Senator Scott: "I think Ronald Reagan gave us a great example when federal employees decided they were going to strike. He said, you strike, you’re fired. Simple concept to me. To the extent that we can use that once again, absolutely":

https://twitter.com/American_Bridge/status/1704136706574741988

The GOP's workerism is a tissue-thin fake. They can never and will never support real worker power. That creates an opportunity for Biden and Democrats to seize:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/18/co-determination/#now-make-me-do-it

Reversing two generations of anti-worker politics is a marathon, not a sprint. The strikes are going to run for months, even years. Every worker will be called upon to support their striking siblings, every day. We can do it. Solidarity now. Solidarity forever.

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/09/21/eight-and-skate/#strike-to-rule

[faebaex]

TWST Characters - Big Spoon or Little Spoon?

author note: don't ask me what provoked this, i'm writing these silly little headcanons so that i can get it out of my head so i can write the things i'm supposed to be writing! forgive me for my slowness (｡T ω T｡)

characters: Heartslabyul, Savanaclaw & Octavinelle

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts

Little spoon who thinks he is a big spoon

He will try being both the big spoon and the little spoon respectively

But in his ACADEMIC opinion, he will declare that he is the big spoon

But despite how he insists that he is the big spoon, most nights he ends up falling asleep in your arms

If he wakes up in the middle of the night he’ll groggily try to rearrange but it doesn’t always work

Don’t tease him about it, sometimes he just needs the comfort of being held

Little spoon in denial basically

Ace Trappola

Silly straw who thinks he is a big spoon

No fr this guy will posture and insist that he is 100% big spoon material

But then as SOON as he falls asleep, he’s snoring and throwing his arms around and wiggling around, tossing and turning

Man will NOT keep still

The amount of times you’ve kicked him out of bed bc he keeps waking you up with his flailing

Rarely you’ll get a night where you comfortably sleep with him as the big spoon but don’t get used to it

Deuce Spade

Respectable big spoon

Probably one of the most comfortable people to sleep with

Will cuddle you well enough that you feel soothed but not tight enough that you can’t slip out if you want/need to

Always makes sure you’re comfortable, probably to the extent that you have to tell him to stop fretting

Good boy, 10/10

Cater Diamond

Undeniable little spoon

There is no doubt, just hold him pls

His favourite position is with his back to you bc he prefers it if you can’t see his face

Can’t have you seeing him vulnerable instead of his usual silly, goofy persona

Sometimes tho he’ll lay his head against your chest and you’ll have a little moment together

But don’t mention it otherwise he won’t do it again

Trey Clover

Big spoon

As if there was ever any doubt

He actually really likes spooning, he likes the intimacy

He likes the feel of your heartbeat and being able to stroke a hand through your hair or watch you as you sleep

Plus it is easy for him to slip into bed next to you if he’s stayed up late to finish baking

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar

Big spoon but only because he treats you like a living pillow

I mean let’s be real all this man does is sleep

So there is no way that you will be anything but the little spoon here

He’ll think its funny if you try to be the big spoon and then just push you underneath him and resume business as usual

Spooning with Leona is either incredibly comfortable or the most uncomfortable sleep you’ve ever had – there is no in-between

He pretends not to care if you voice any discomfort but genuinely will try to be more attentive in future

Jack Howl

Big spoon

But he goes to bed sooo early so you don’t always get to cuddle

Sometimes when you sneak into bed he’ll roll over and engulf you in his arms

As if he sensed you in his sleep

But other times Jack sleeps like a rock

So its kind of hit and miss

But when you do get to spoon, it feels like you are encompassed in a huge, never-ending hug

It may even be tempting enough for you to become a morning person, if you’re not already

Ruggie Bucchi

Little spoon 100%

My man just likes to cuddle up after a long day of making thaumarks and running around taking care of Leona

So there is nothing he loves more than snuggling into your chest or side and passing out

Plus being the little spoon makes it a tiny bit easier to slip out in the morning when he has to do one of his early morning jobs or get Leona's breakfast ready

Plus plus having you there makes his bed feel just that little bit more comforting :)

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto

Little spoon who thinks he is a big spoon #2

You’ll fall asleep with him being the big spoon but you always ALWAYS wake up with him somehow in the little spoon position with his arms and legs wrapped around you

Will insist this is a misunderstanding and that he slipped bc he’s still not used to beds yet

He actually loves nothing more than burying his face into your chest and feeling nice and safe

Nevertheless he will go to the grave insisting that he is the big spoon

The biggest little spoon in denial, no one compares

Jade Leech

Big spoon

The only time he is a little spoon is when he gets too excited about mushrooms or something and needs to calm down while you stroke his hair

Otherwise he is a big spoon through and through

Thing is though, his grip is TOO strong

Once you make the decision to spoon with him, there is no escape

His arms will be wrapped so tightly around your waist that you can’t even more an inch away from him

He has absolutely no remorse about it either the next morning, he’ll just give you his little closed eye smile and be all ‘whoops’ but hold you just as tight the next time

Floyd Leech

Hear me out, hear me out

100% a little spoon

He gives off big spoon energy but actually prefers to wrap himself around you and have you hold him and play with his hair and give him back scratches

Be careful if he’s in a silly goofy mood though because he’ll start nipping at you

Thinks its hilarious when you’re relaxing and you suddenly yelp bc he’s nipped at your side

But usually he behaves himself bc sometimes he’s a little touch starved so he really likes it when you hold him

[confusedcunny]

Detrans December Challenge

Alright I'm doing it! A notes game going from now until 1 December 2023 00:00. The results of the notes will dictate what I'll do during Detrans-December!

Every 10 notes is a day of wearing lace panties. 20 notes: I grow out my hair further. 50 notes: I shave my pussy smooth and keep it smooth. 75 notes: I'll write my deadname on my body. 100 notes: I lower my next T shot with 1/5th. 125 notes: Every 50 notes beyond this point my T is reduced another 1/5th. 150 notes: I shave my whole body smooth and keep it smooth. 175 notes: I draw a womb and ovaries on myself. 200 notes: I dress up in thong, bra, skirt, stockings (as fem as I can with the clothes I have) and share it here. 225 notes: I do more body writing based on your suggestions. 250 notes: I masturbate in girly clothes. 275 notes: I upload myself humping a pillow. 300 notes: I watch a feminization hypnosis every other day. 325 notes: At this point my first shot is skipped. Every 50 notes beyond this point I reduce a fifth of my next shot, and then the next etc. 350 notes: I practice penetration once a week (I'm kinda bad with that right now). 400 notes: I get a pink piece of jewelry for my bellybutton piercing. 450 notes: I watch a feminization hypnosis every day. 500 notes: I go outside dressed in a skirt. 525 notes: I add new goals...

I'm excited to see the results, and who knows, maybe in January I'll really get to say:

"New year, new me!"

[bluetimeombre]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Notice

Sometimes, even the big bad wolf needs his calm, in his case, it's you.

[finally I got the request out for introverted reader. I to love this idea, I do genuinly believe Logan would just love someone he could relax with after all the pain he's been through- like him and Kayla in Wolverine which we don't talk about enough. I hope you enjoy, I tried to get it out quicker but i'm working on other little thing for Hugh and Logan, so keep your eyes out. No warnings for this, accept fluff and a little angst cause i'm a sucker for it.]

Logan couldn't pin point the moment he noticed you but once he had, there was no going back.

Everything- everyone- in the mansion was hard to handle. All 100% all the time. Storm, the Professor, even Jean grated him enough of the times. With their insistence he join the team, with the nagging, the missions, the danger rooms, the blah blah blah.

So when he was out for a run, blowing the steam Scott had given him that morning, and he spotted you surrounded by students, huddled by a tree, he paused. He very almost ran into a kid as he did, squinting at you as you practically glowed in the sun.

Was that your mutation? To glow? To capture his attention?

You were showing the kids something, and they all listened, enamoured. As he would be, with your smile, your ... calm.

You caught him staring and faltered. He only crossed his arms over his chest and watched as you tried to continue teaching. Eventually, you set the class on some task and Logan slowly made his way to you.

"Hello Logan," you greeted.

He didn't know why it surprised him you knew his name, you must have been here longer than he had for you to teach. He watched you as you watched the children, noticing how you pulled at the sleeves of your jumper down over your hands. "What are they doin'?" he asked, gesturing to the kids.

"Just learning about life," you mumbled. That was your mutation, a connection the nature, to the trees and the very life that hummed under you.

So very different to him, who took life with the swipe of his claws.

"I'll er, see you," you added before walking away from him.

Logan couldn't shake you for the rest of the day. He walked by your class room later, saying hello to you. He never had before. That night, he found he couldn't sleep and he walked by your bedroom which just so happened to be on his way. The door was open ajar and you were no where to be seen.

You were down in the kitchen, sitting in an armchair by the window with a book in your lap and a steaming how cup of coffee next to you. He approached quietly, watching from the doorway as you were bathed in moonlight.

Eventually, as you went to grab your hot coffee, you spotted him. "Logan?" you spilled a bit over your hand, seething and putting it down. "Sorry, I- I didn't see you there."

He smirked. "Kinda the idea."

He ducked under a counter and pulled out a beer from his secret stash. He took some kitchen roll as he did before walking over to you, gesturing down to the empty chair across from you.

You nodded and he sat, taking the cap of the beer with his teeth and spitting it on the floor. "We don't have beer here," you said.

Logan raised a brow. "No? huh," he took a swig, watching you. "Here." he put his beer next to your coffee and takes your hand, wiping away the coffee.

"I'm ok," you mumble, though letting him dab it away.

"Just making sure, bub," he said, glancing up at you. You'd closed the book but kept a finger where he'd interrupted. "What are you reading?"

You seemed shocked that he asked as you have to think for a moment. "Oh just um, a book."

"A book, huh?" he hummed.

"A book," you repeated.

"What's it about?" he asked, leaning back and taking his beer again.

You shake your head, curling into yourself. "It's just about... art history. Read it?"

He smirked. "I don't read."

You nod, pursing your lips and adjusting the book in your lap. Your head, turned down.

He watched your for a second. He saw your eyes turn around the page but you didn't seem to be taking it in. He sipped his beer and tried to think of another way to start a conversation with you. Not that the silence wasn't welcome, it was after all the noise of the day, but he wanted to hear your voice. He wanted to know your voice even when he knew nothing else. "Wanna know how I snuck beer in this place?"

You glanced up at him, closing your book again. "Do I want to know?"

"Well, it's a neat little trick," he said, spinning the bottle around.

"And if Charles's comes snooping?" you ask.

He shrugs. "Then there's plenty of kids for me to blame it on," he said. "C'mon, you telling me you're not a rule breaker?"

You laugh at the very idea. "No. No, i'm not."

"Why not? Afraid you might get a taste for it?" he teased.

You blushed and he found delight in that.

Most nights, that how it went. In the day he was dealing with everyone's bullshit and at night he'd find you in your chair, reading or what you called crocheting. You even tried to teach him once but in a fit of anger that he couldn't get it, his claws slashed out and tore it.

Logan apologised but to his delight you laughed only.

In the day he always sort you out, or watched from afar as you taught, or sat in the sun. You never participated in danger room sessions. But you were no less a friend to Ororo or Jean, sometimes he'd catch you outside with Scott, talking and laughing and he found he'd never wanted to rip Summer's head from him more.

"I didn't know you and Summer's were... close," he said one night the two of you were in the kitchen. You were hunched over paper, drawing whatever you could see in the dark garden while he fixed himself up a sandwich.

"We've worked together for years," you said, "we were in the same classes together too."

"And you don't find him a pain in the ass?" he asked.

You chuckled. "Not as much as you, Logan, I expect."

Logan hummed a laugh and came over to you, offering you half the sandwich.

You peered at him and he insisted. “I’m not hungry.”

“You barley ate anything at lunch, c’mon, it’s my speciality.”

In the night, the two of you ate in silence, simply enjoying each others company.

Logan was simply fine admiring you for half the night. "Why don't you talk much?"

You glance is way, pulling your sweater back down. "I just don't have much to say."

"C'mon, i'm sure you do," he said. "Seems like everyone always has something to say round here.”

“I don’t have anything useful to contribute,” you shrug, taking a bite of what he made for you.

Something like pride filled him. He didn’t know that doing the plain old domestic stuff could mean so much to him, because when it was only him, he never cared, but you, god, there was no limit to what he felt for you. “That’s not true,” he said, leaning over closer to you. “Wanna hear every thought that pops into that pretty little head.”

You glance his way, blushing. You swallow your food and wipe away the crumbs. “And why is that, Logan?”

He frowned at the question. “Because it’s you. I-I like you, bub. Better than anyone else in this place,” he said. This place wasn’t descriptive enough for him. “I like you most in the whole world.”

After that little confession that had you stunned, Logan was all over you. Most the days when he has nothing to do he followed you around like a puppy, even chose to help out in classes just to be close to you.

It was worth every second, just to hear your voice and see you get passionate.

Slowly, you started to note this and finally opened up to him more. You’d talk about the books you were reading or invite him to your favourite spots in the garden. You’d even tried to crochet for him.

It was peace, and in his life time of war, Logan never thought he’d deserve it.

But peace never lasted long for him.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

The mission was supposed to be a quick and done deal: investigate the factory and rescue any mutants stuck, but he hadn’t accounted for the mutant who poisoned his mind.

He was in the pale corridors of the facility before his mind took him to the mansion. It was wrecked, holes in walls and windows shattered. There was blood splattered like a painting. Slowly, he wondered the corridors, every step a tremble.

There were children, lying in blood, as well as Storm, Jean, Scott, but then, there was you.

Logan screamed. Logan yelled, he fell to his knees and crawled the rest of the way there. To you. His skin was was soaking in your blood, his hands clawing to get to you, to bring in your body to his. He cried out, nuzzilng his face in your neck.

It didn't feel like a dream, it felt painfully real. It wasn't until there was a searing pain in the back of his head that his eyesight blurred and the blood was gone, so were you.

"It wasn't real, Logan," said Scott, pulling him up. "It was just a dream. It wasn't real."

Logan couldn't register who was pulling him up, or who was talking to him. As his vision cleared, he looked for you and all he knew was that he couldn't find you. "Y-Y/N?"

"She's at home, Logan, c'mon." Scott managed to assort the rest of the team and get them to the jet before flying at a never before seen speed to get back to the mansion.

Logan's knee jittered as he remembered your voice. As he remembered your smile and the way you blushed whenever he looked at you long enough. The soft brush of your touch and the scent your hair carried in the wind. He tried to remember it all, as if when he returns, you won't be there.

Before the jet had even landed, as the sun rose over the school, Logan was jumping out and stalking into the place. He tried not to run, not to give into the urgency.

He went to your bedroom first, but you weren't there. Your sheets were tossed aside and it was empty. So was your classroom.

The sweat started rolling down as he looked around. It was so early, nobody else was up but he was sure with his heavy steps and ragged breaths, he was waking everyone up.

"Y/N? no, no, no," he mumbled. He eventually made it out, taking deep gulps of air and searching the grounds.

You stood with your back to him, a blanket wrapped around you and bathing in the soft light.

"Y/N?"

By the time you'd turned around, Logan was already catapulting into you, sweeping you from your feet and bringing you into his chest. His hand tangled in your hair, breathing you in.

"Logan?" you mumbled, arms awkwardly coming around him. "Everything alright?"

His head shook. "I thought... I thought you-" he found the strength to pull away from you, taking in every detail like he'd never see you again. "I missed you, bub."

There was accusation in your eyes but you didn't voice them. Instead, your knuckles brushed his cheek, smoothing away the lines of stress.

That night, with his head in your lap, you read to him. And Logan knew, nothing would ever happen to you.

He would make sure of it.

taglist (thank you! let me know if you want to be added for more hugh and logan or removed): @oatmilkriver, @angstdaddy, @chronicallybubbly, @white-wolf-buckaroo, @th3mrskory

[itsmrshamilton]

Watch Him Rise

Summary: Lewis & Y/n watch their son's first competition. Y/s = your son's name.

A/n: guys, 100 of you?? Thanks for the liking, commenting, reblogging and reading🫶 I saw these pics of Lewis and thought they were so cute. Its giving WAG or SupportiveDad.

"Can you please sit down, it hasn't even started yet." You admonished your husband who was standing with his hands on his hips, eyeing the arena. You two had just found your seats and set down your belongings but Lewis refused to move from his position.

"I have to make sure he sees me! Support matters, love." He responded adjusting his bucket hat and moving his hands back to his hips. "Yes, I-" "I also need to scope the whole arena so we know where to look when his name is announced." He continued to assess the grounds.

You sighed in resignation and focused on unpacking drinks and supportive gear. You two had bought everything from bucket hats, to t-shirts, to foam fingers and pom-poms. All in the colours of your son's gymnastic team's colours. Your matching shirts had 'HAMILTON' printed in all caps and had a family picture at the back.

It was his first competition since he started training two years ago. His interest in the sport was a surprise to you and Lewis because you had never brought it up nor had you participated in it as children yourselves. But you were happy to do anything to make your son happy no matter how short his obsession with the craft. Luckily (cause you forked out thousands), your son remained devoted and passionate about gymnastics. He was the one who woke you up on weekends for training and asked to spend hours after school practising in the backyard.

Lewis was incredibly proud. He went from being worried about a bone injury to researching new moves and routines for your son to perform. He looked up the best coaches, got the best reviewed gear and most importantly, attended every single practice. The support he received from his father when he was growing up was what drove him to be his son's biggest supporter. Lewis understood how much of a mental game sports really were despite the physical strain they caused.

The day you gave birth to your son, you felt your heart double in size and increase in the capacity it had to feel love. When Lewis held him for the first time, it grew even more. And since that day, watching Lewis easily take to fatherhood and complete the simplest of parenting tasks made your heart ache and expand some more. You didnt think it was possible to feel so much love. Their matching brown eyes brought bright smiles to your face and it was your lifelong goal to constantly see joy reflected in those eyes.

"Oh, there he is! There's the team!" Lewis raised his voice in excitement. "Y/s! Y/s! Up here! You're going to do great!"

You stood up to wave your pom-poms in your kid's direction. He looked at you two through his mop of dark curls, grinned and waved. Nothing was embarrassing for him. Yet, you thought to yourself. You were lowkey dreading the teenage years but you put your all into cherishing these current days.

"Hi baby! Go smash it! Wooo!" You yelled at him. The parents around you were beginning to look on in annoyance but you paid no attention. This first competition was something you had spent months waiting for so you wouldn't allow your son to feel inadequate or unsupported.

A loud voice boomed through the speakers, announcing the start of the day's events. Your son waved one last time before turning to his teammates and coach. You and Lewis sat down to watch. You leaned on his arm and he turned to press a kiss to your temple and grasp your hand in his. The events began and you separated shortly every now and then to clap for the other kids. At this age, the events were not complicated and mainly consisted of the vault, parallel bars and balance beam. The floor was covered in busy bodies of varied ages all dressed in shiny kit and doing their best to score well. The mother in you wanted to give everyone full points for the adorable effort they put in. Lewis, on the other hand, sounded like a professional judge beside you. He was leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees and muttering to himself.

"More power. Don't flex the feet. Lift now. Mm. Too slow. Release. Mmm. Pull back." It had taken him less than 2 days to understand this sport's rules and regulations. In fact, he had crammed so much gymnastics information that if you asked him a rule about F1 right now, he'd spend hours trying to recall the correct answer. It was hilariously cute and you admired him greatly for it.

"Next up on the vault, Y/s Hamilton!" The big voice boomed. Lewis stood to cheer as you dug around for the sign to hold up: 'Soar high, Y/s! Fly!'. It was covered in glitters, stickers, jewels and more.

Your son stepped up to the end of the mat.

Your eyes began to water slightly as he pushed the curls away from his forhead and closed his eyes. Lewis had taught him to take a moment to envision the routine and make intentional movements before starting. A second later, he opened them up. Even from your distance you recognised the fierce look of determination in them. The same look Lewis got before a race and before he signed on a new business venture. You were so proud of that look because according to it's history, only great things followed.

Y/s took off sprinting down the mat and you felt your heart move to your throat. "Right. . .now" You heard Lewis mutter beside you. "Twist, tighten, lengthen. . . release. Release!" He went through each of the movements mentally while he watched his son soar, flip, twist and land perfectly on the mat. "Yeah! That's my boy!"

You jumped up and down squealing with pure bliss at Y/s's achievement. Lewis scrambled to get his phone out to record the scores the judges selected. You noticed that his hands trembled slightly as he reached up to swipe a lone tear on his face. His smile still bright and proud.

"Y/s Hamilton. 10s across the board." The voice boomed.

The two of you erupted into bigger cheers and grabbed each other before steadying the phone that was recording. It caught your son jumping up and down in excitement and high-fiving teammates. He turned to the stands to wave at his parents and receive all the kisses they blew at him. "Oh Lewis, our baby!" You whispered when everything had settled down. He pulled you towards him and hugged you tightly. Together you watched your son get warmed up for the next event. His smile so wide it showed all of his gaps and baby teeth. "He's only just beginning to rise." Lewis said to himself. "And we'll be here til he reaches the top."

💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌 💌

Why did I nearly make myself cry? Guys, I had to take a break for a couple of weeks because I was doing too much on this app and not focusing on my real life, lol. Thank you for reading. Remember to interact before you leave. This is not a part of the "tattoo of us" series.

[solar-wing]

⚣ Jason Todd: NSFW Alphabet 🔴

⚣🔴 A/N → I forgot I had written these out and had them on my old account. Did a little fine-tuning to them though. WARNINGS: 18+ MDNI | it's an NSFW alphabet so just expect the unexpected and the expected.

⚣🔴 Words → 3.6K

REBLOGS & replies are greatly appreciated, please! 💛

⚣ ENJOY 🔴

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

This man can go from rough and hard to soft and gentle in literal seconds. It’s like watching someone come out of a trance or possession. He’ll clean you up with a fresh rag and make sure you’re comfortable, especially if you’re sore (you’ll most definitely be). He’s clingy though.

You won’t get anywhere without him right beside you. And he won’t say it, but he loves it when you try to take care of him too. Jason is dominant and prefers to be in control, but that man is as needy as a newborn baby, and it gets 10x worse after sex.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Jason’s relationship with his body is difficult, but, if we’re talking about one where he’s healed, maybe been to therapy, and (slightly) moved on from his trauma, he probably favors his arms, chest, and hands. Jason prefers strength overlooking aesthetically fit, and he kind of always looks like he’s bulking but it's defined somehow. And because that adds to his overall size and level of intimidation, he loves working on those specific groups to increase them so he can in turn use them to intimidate people, especially those who try to flirt with you in front of him.

Now, on the other end, Jason is 100% an ass man. You can not change my mind. He loves you wearing any kind of tight or fitting material that molds to the shape of your butt and just being able to oogle and smack it when he wants. And smack it he does. Dude has the equivalent of 100 cheese necks in one palm and you feel it every time he lands one on your ass. 

Bonus points if you have thick thighs that jiggle when you walk. He’ll be paying extra special attention to those, especially if you’re wearing any kind of short shorts or fitted athletic wear. He also has a slight obsession or fascination with your neck. Whether in the act or just chilling, his hands will somehow find their way to your neck whether it’s a gentle caress or a firm grip. And if he’s feeling a little possessive or riled up in the moment (which is frequent) it’s his favorite place to mark, and if you try to cover them up, it’s more motivation for him to leave even bigger ones. He likes it when people can tell and see that you belong to him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

More of an oozer than a shooter unless he’s been holding a load in for a while. And his loads are thick. He may not shoot far but he’ll definitely give you enough to fill the bottom of a glass. 

Also, no questions asked, he’s coming inside you. You just have to choose if it’s going to be your mouth or ass. Don’t ask, it’s a territorial thing with him. The thought of you walking around and greeting people while his babies are lodged deep inside your ass or fresh down your esophagus does wonders for his pride.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

If you’re not around and he’s really horny, he’ll masturbate with a piece of your clothing. Sometimes, he’ll also call you in the middle of it and won’t tell you just so he can hear your voice while edging himself to completion.

He also will purposely start arguments with you so you can have a reason to have angry make-up sex later.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Some small experiences before he died, and little hookups here and there when he came back and was somewhat in a good place with Bruce and himself. That being said, he gets most of his experience from his relationship with you. He quickly learns what he does like and what he doesn’t, and makes it known to you immediately. 

He also may or may not go to Dick for advice or tips on how to improve. Going to Bruce is out of the question. And not just because that’s still technically his dad.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy for one. It’s something about him grabbing you by your hair or even better, around your neck and forcing your body against his while he pounds into you from behind. He gets an exhilarating high from having you at his mercy and you surrendering yourself to him.

He also does favor missionary if he’s in a slightly more tender mood. But, If he’s feeling jealous or pissed off about something, he’s putting you up against a wall or in a corner with his hands around your neck and ramming you like there’s no tomorrow. Your legs will not be functioning for 24 hours.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Tends to be more serious in the moment. When he’s in the mood, he’s fully in it. Especially if he needs to get his frustrations out. However, the sound of you moaning and screaming his name will definitely bring a smug grin to his face.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He keeps himself adequately groomed. May grow some facial hair and have a little bush down there along with a happy trail but he’s good about keeping it neat and clean. And, if you want him to, he’ll shave it all, no questions needed.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

This he struggles with at times. It’s something he wasn’t given much of (especially with Bruce) so he doesn’t really know how to act when in those moments and he tends to get really uncomfortable, especially if it’s a particularly vulnerable moment for him. As far as during sex, he’s definitely on the more rough and brutish side, but he’ll always do his best to check on you.

It’s something he’s getting better at though. Even in moments without sex where you two are just lounging and sitting together, he’s good at reading you and knowing what you want or how to make you happy with small gestures and actions. He just wants to make sure you’re happy and that you feel loved (and that you belong to him and only him).

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Mentioned with dirty secrets. Really only does it when you’re not around. He’ll rarely do it just for the heck of it. He prefers getting his pleasure from pleasing and fucking (owning) you.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Dominance/Submission (Power Play) - Jason has had many things happen to him that he didn’t want or couldn’t control. It’s basically what influences this kink more than others. You submitting to Jason, letting him lead and have full control in sex and even in domestic scenarios creates a very satisfying and pleasurable feeling inside him. It also serves as reassurance for him, knowing that you fully trust him to the point where you basically surrender yourself to him. Getting back to more dirty things, this kink can include other aspects such as orgasm denial, bondage (on you), and verbal affirmation of your submission (dirty talk).

Choking (giving only) - This plays into the dominant/submission kink as well. It’s a rush from the feeling of control he has over whether you get to breathe or not while pounding your brains out. But, he’ll never go too far and he hopes you know that. However, he’s not at all okay with it being done to him. He does not like his neck being touched at all for that matter. Call it PTSD from his time with Joker and other things that have happened to him in the past, so it’s a big no-no. Although, with time and him getting more comfortable in the relationship, if he gives you a clear consenting sign that he’s okay with it, he’ll allow a gentle caress and rub down his neck, but only from you. Anyone else who tries to touch him on his neck risks several broken limbs.

Mirror Sex - A key part of his possessive nature toward you. He loves seeing himself fuck into you and even more, his ego gets a big boost from seeing you turn into an erotic mess while he’s inside you.

Size Difference - The fact that Jason can pick you up and throw you around like a rag doll, dwarfs you in size, or that his clothes (even if you’re tall and broad) can look three sizes too big on you is a major turn-on for him. He won’t say it, but he likes the idea of someone smaller than him that he can protect.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Weird enough, the thought comes to mind that Jason has a weird obsession with having sex with you in tight spaces. Mainly, places like the shower or the car. It ties a bit into his power and size kink. Something about the size of his body towering over you in a small space riles him up like no other. It’s the feeling or sensation that he’s got you cornered that drives that feeling. Kind of like an outlet for him to deal with his trauma of when he was actually trapped/cornered.

Also, he has it in his mind that whenever you move in together, he has to fuck you on every single available surface in your place. Christening your home with your love is how he likes to think of it. Plus, he gets a nasty kick out of when guests are over, imagining in his mind that they’re sitting in places where he had you crying out and cumming on his dick multiple times.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

#1:Jealousy & Possessiveness – The idea of you finding anyone else attractive, let alone giving them your attention which is only supposed to be reserved for him, he’ll be quick to snatch you into the nearest closet or bathroom to remind you who you belong to. And it doesn’t matter who it is besides your parents or his family. It could be the barista at the cafe, a random guy who gave you a friendly nod, or god forbid, an old classmate or co-worker you happened to bump into on the street. Jason is a selfish & protective little fucker who doesn’t even want to consider the idea of someone else thinking they can have what’s only for him.

#2: Clothes – Please, exercise caution when picking your outfit for any particular event. Jason’s never gonna tell you what you can’t wear, but keep in mind that again, he’s a selfish and protective little fucker who has the sex drive of a large animal. Wearing anything even slightly tight or a bit showy for his taste can and will land you in many situations where Jason has pulled you aside somewhere quiet and private to have at your body. And don’t let him catch others ogling your outfit or even giving you the slightest compliment or all hell is breaking loose. Not to say he doesn’t like it, he loves it. But, you’re for his eyes only. Now, if it’s his clothes you’re wearing out, please be aware that at some point, you may be buying him a new shirt/hoodie cause he’s about to rip it off you.

#3: Arguing – Something in that man thrives on chaos, and when you and he are going at it, he can’t help but get hard. And again, hot, angry makeup sex. Duh…

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

He will not do any form of rape/forced play, including machoism and sadism. His vigilante life and past trauma already left a deep scar on him and anything that resembles that can and will trigger him. Plus, he knows he’s way stronger and doesn’t want to even take the risk of hurting you in any way.

Unless we’re talking Arkham Jason. That’s a completely different story.

He would clear it with you first that you’re okay with bondage and choking, but he doesn’t want it performed on him, especially the choking, as we’re already aware that he’s very sensitive about his neck.

Any extreme BDSM kinks like piss play or fisting is also a major turn-off for him. Exhibitionism is a straight-up no. Jason would rather drink from the Lazarus pit than have anyone looking at you in a state that he’s only allowed to see you in. Don’t even attempt to pitch the idea of a threesome or foursome or just any suggestion of bringing someone else in on your fun. It will turn into a major argument and not a good one that ends in happy fun.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Inexperienced but picks it up quickly and learns what gets more of a reaction from you. He’s a fast learner and loves it when he’s able to drive you over the edge with his mouth alone. Also, if we’re talking about eating out, he’ll happily do it till the sun turns blue. There’s something about tasting you on his tongue that just really gets him riled up.

But, if we’re talking dick-sucking, definitely prefers receiving over giving. Jason finds it extremely hot seeing you go up and down on him with your mouth, especially when he grabs your hair or head and starts to force your head up and down or starts thrusting in your mouth. He loves seeing you slobber and choke all over him. And if you look up and give him a teary-eyed but submissive look, game over (in a good way).

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Definitely fast and rough. And if it’s not, you can bet he’s delivering some powerful strokes that will have you squeezing and clenching your legs all around him. Plus, he notices the harder he goes, the more you squeeze yourself against him while pressing your nails into his back and biting at his skin, trying to silence your loud moans and cries. Though, it’s probably not the best idea because he’ll just go even harder to force those noises out of you. And, those are marks and scars he will PROUDLY wear.

It takes him time (if you even decide at all that you want him to) to learn how to move at a softer, slower, and more sensual pace. But, if it’s something you truly desire, he’ll work on it and do everything he can to make you happy. But, that doesn’t mean rough sex goes away. It actually makes it even more hot, especially when Jason is in one of his moods.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s not opposed to them. But, Jason likes to take his time with you. He doesn’t like to rush and hates the idea of feeling as if someone is going to interrupt him. No one should intrude upon your special time with each other. God bless (and protect) the unlucky souls that do.

But, if he’s really in the mood and he can’t get you to an ideal private place in a fast enough time, he’s not above pulling you into the nearest dark room or corner to get down and dirty, especially if he’s feeling a little territorial because someone decided they wanted to be brave stupid and hit on you. He’s more than happy to remind you who you’re in a relationship with. Or if you’re not in a relationship, then just who’s fucking you every single night, plain and simple. Either way, quickies to him are basically just his versions of reminders to you for what happens when he gets a bit jealous.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

You’d have to move at a snail’s pace with him if you want to introduce something new to your routine. If it’s something small, then he may go ahead and give in to it, but Jason craves consistency and normalcy, and that includes sex. Asking him to try something new can hit a sore spot cause it may seem like what you two are doing now isn’t enough for you anymore.

But, if you reassure him it’s not that, and just slowly introduce the idea to him, (double points if he likes it off the start) then you’re definitely in for a treat. For you, and you only, he is willing to step out of his comfort zone, as long as it’s not too crazy or on his no-no list.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Depends on his mood and what prompted the sex. He could go for one round or two if he’s just feeling a little feral and wants a piece of you. If it’s a jealous or angry fit after an argument, you might wanna cancel any plans after, cause he’s certainly not letting you leave the bed, the house, or wherever you are until your legs are basically useless.

The same thing goes for the duration of a round, especially if you’ve got the good good (hehe). If you’re really giving it to him. Mans may be lucky to make it past 10 minutes, but that’s not too bad. It means he can cuddle you, or you cuddle him. Either way, cuddles are non-negotiable after a round. But, if you two just got done hashing it out over something or you decided to poke one too many of his buttons, he’s dragging it out as long as he can. This means exiting out of you whenever he feels like he’s getting too close, and denying you your own orgasm as well (that damn control factor strikes again).

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Jason doesn’t own any toys and never really had an interest in them. It’s not something he’d really get into on his own and only would experiment with them if you asked. The most he’s got is handcuffs or rope he’d use for bondage but that’s as far as he would take it.

If you were to use toys, he’d definitely prefer him using them on you unless there was something else specific involved that didn’t cross one of his boundaries.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

50/50. If you’re teasing him, payback’s a fucker named Jason. He’ll kiss all your sweet spots, nibble on your chest, and barely give any attention to your dick/genitals. Especially if he’s in one of his ‘I want to hear you beg for me, tell me who owns you’ moods.

If he wants to get to the point, then you can expect to be promptly thrown onto the bed or whatever surface is nearby, and the most he’ll do here is tie or cuff your hands so you can’t touch him, knowing how much you like to feel his body while he’s ramming yours.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Jason’s loud. But, in a very grunty-like way. You may have to fight tooth and nail to get him to moan for you, but by golly is he expressive when you manage to get it out of him. For the most part, though, he’s giving grunts, growls, and grumbles. You’ll mainly hear him whisper into your ear, reminding you that he’s the one currently plowing your guts and that no one else is allowed to see you like this but him.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He likes fucking you with clothes on frequently. You’re wearing a tight compression shirt that’s showing your pecs, abs, and just overall body, he’s got you bent over a surface while oogling your muscle constricting under a shirt. Wearing a jockstrap or thong in the gym and he can see it, he’s pulling them down and that underwear aside just enough to get inside you. You’re not complaining though. If he’s wearing his own compression and muscle shirts all the better for you, getting to ogle and rub his muscles while he’s hammering inside of you like an animal.

He also really enjoys massages. Particularly on his shoulders, back, and chest. He loves it when you lick and play around with the head of his dick and when you run your fingers through his hair while his face is buried in your neck kissing and leaving marks all over.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Bigger than average.

8-9 inches minimum. He’s thick and girthy down as well. Maybe narrower at the base with a really large and bulbous head. Entering can be a bit of a challenge, but it gets easier the further he gets inside. Also has a curve to his dick.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Jason has a fairly high sex drive and the Lazarus pit only increased that. His libido can sometimes be more emotion-driven so feelings of love, anger, or even just a slight irritation will get him hard.

Maybe you’re not fucking every hour of the day, but he’s gotta have you in some shape or form at least once or twice a day. Whether it’s a blowjob, hand-job, or one of his jealous reminder quickies.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He can go to sleep fairly quickly, but only after he’s properly cared for you and cleaned you up. Also, he has to have your body pressed against him. Cuddles are vitally important and you should never once not want to cuddle him. It’s the one intimate thing he’s got down perfectly to a T. 

However, he has more than once fallen asleep while still inside you and in the position you both finished in. It can lead to a comfortable or uncomfortable scenario, depending on the situation.

☀️ | Jason Todd/Red Hood | ☀️

☀️ | Masterlists | ☀️

[kazumist]

STUPID CUPID .ᐟ

✩ — in which you thought cupid was stupid for making you fall for a guy like wriothesley.

✩ — wriothesley x gn!reader. fluff. no cws. wc: 753 (woah). reader is down bad for wrio LOL theyre so me fr. reblogs are very much appreciated !!

you never found wriothesley attractive.

well, that was before, at least. now, you’re currently undergoing a love crisis because how and when did he even become so attractive in your eyes?

since when did wriothesley look so good in rolled up sleeves? (one of the rare times where you’re thankful that the uniform has long sleeves, really.) since when did wriothesley look good in fitted clothes? since when did his chuckle start replaying in your head at random times during the day? and archons, since when did you even start liking the way he says your name?

just when did wriothesley start to become your type?

a few months ago, you didn’t even spare him a glance when it wasn’t needed. yet now, here you are, most probably on the brink of losing your sanity just because of a guy who you’re 100% sure doesn’t even think of you the same way.

you don’t share that many conversations with him, but when you do, it feels like you are floating. maybe it was simply because of how good his voice sounds, or maybe it was because you’re actually talking to him—who knows?

the words that your friends had said before started to echo in your head, “you know, when you’re in love, you’ll feel like your dreaming every day.” you didn’t believe them at first, of course; it just sounded impossible for you. but the tables just had to turn on you, didn’t they?

“as i was saying, i think it’s best if we take another approach to doing this project—are you okay?”

oh shit. this just proves their point even more, you completely forgot you were in the middle of talking and planning about your project with wriothesley because you were thinking about him! 

“huh? oh yeah, don’t worry about it.”

he nods in acknowledgement and continued to voice out his thoughts and archons, you were so close to melting. no way in celestia that even you even find him attractive as he is explaining his ideas, right?

right?

-

who knew that a project could bring two people together?

you managed to find out all sorts of things about wriothesley. a few of those would be: he has a little sister named sigewinne and he lets her style his hair whenever he’s at home, he usually does morning walks during the weekends to watch the sunrise, he really likes drinking tea and doesn’t like talking too much because his throat becomes too dry for his liking, there’s also—

yep, you’re falling deeper than you initially thought.

-

stupid, stupid cupid!

cupid must’ve been stupid. there’s no other explanation for it. because why did you just have to fall for a guy like wriothesley? wriothesley, who’s way out of your league. who you’re positively sure doesn’t like you back (and has no plans on doing so). wriothesley, who wasn’t even your type yet, here you are, going crazy over him!

just why did you have to fall for wriothesley who's… currently walking towards you right now with a bouquet of tulips in hand?

“what’s with the tulips?” you asked him.

you didn’t have to be a genius to know what tulips symbolized—love and happiness is what they mostly meant.

“are you going to give them to sigewinne?” you followed up on your last question. “ah, they’re actually for you," he replies, keeping his eyes on the bouquet in his hands and refusing to look you in the eyes instead.

wait.

did he just say they were for you?

“huh? for me?”

he silently handed you the said bouquet and proceeded to put his hands in his pockets. there, you noticed a little note attached.

i love watching the sun rise, but i’ll love it more if i get to watch it with you.

“if you don’t feel the same, it’s completely fine with me. i just wanted to let you know that i hold romantic feelings for you and—" he started to ramble, which is very out of character of him since you’re well aware that he doesn’t like to talk too much.

you didn’t believe everything at first. wriothesley suddenly giving you a bouquet of tulips was already unbelievable enough for you, but to read this note that was obviously written by him? you’re probably just dreaming, right? yeah, that must be it. maybe you just fell asleep, and now you’re dreaming of this whole thing—

“i’d like to watch the sun rise with you as well.”

maybe cupid wasn’t stupid after all.

tagging: @ryuryuryuyurboat, @oveloof, and @yinyinggie <3

[pastryfication]

Oscar with a brunette girlfriend who burns really, really, really easily in the sun

i loved writing this so thank you for requesting!! i didn’t specify the hair colour, so you can imagine whatever you want xx

it’s also based a bit on my parents (my dad burns so easily and my mum is constantly fussing over him), so i really hope you like it

beach day precautions | oscar piastri

the sun is glaring down with a fierce intensity that promises a day full of warmth, as you set up the towels. smoothing them out on the hot floor of sand and unpacking your things from the beach bag you brought is quickly done, and as soon as you ready yourself to lay down, oscar reaches for the sunscreen.

"hold still," he demands teasingly, squeezing a generous amount into his palm. you roll your eyes, but you don't resist. you know he's right. if you had your way, you'd probably be a lobster by midday.

his hands are gentle but thorough as he applies the sunscreen, ensuring every inch of your exposed skin is covered. while he works, he mutters something about spf 50 and how it should be spf 100, just to be safe. you smile, appreciating his care even if it borders on obsessive. it’s one of the many ways he shows he loves you.

when he is content with the job, he pulls back from you slightly, eyes roaming your body to make sure he got everything covered.

"you missed a spot," you tease, pointing to your nose.

oscar huffs in mock frustration but dabs a little extra sunscreen on your nose, making sure to spread it evenly. "there you go. happy now?"

"ecstatic," you reply, giving him a quick kiss before he can fuss over any other potential missed spots. “but now it’s your turn.”

after you’ve covered oscar in sunscreen as well, making sure to smooth your hands over every part of him, spending extra time on his abs, you’re ready to take on the beach.

the two of you spend the morning splashing in the surf, building sandcastles with nothing but your bare hands, and lying together on the towels, watching the waves crash onto the shore. every so often, oscar stops to check your skin, scanning for the telltale signs of a sunburn. despite the layers of sunscreen that he keep adding, you know it's only a matter of time.

by early afternoon, the inevitable happens. a pink tinge starts to appear on your shoulders. it's faint but unmistakable. oscar notices immediately. "alright, that's it," he declares, pulling his t-shirt from your bag. before you can protest, he's draping it over your shoulders, shielding you from the rays of the sun.

"osc, i'm fine," you insist, but he shakes his head, his expression solemn.

"no arguments. i don't want you getting burned." he gently adjusts the shirt to make sure it covers as much of your skin as possible. "we should head back under the umbrella.”

you sigh, knowing he's right, but you can't help but feel a bit disappointed that your beach time is over already. he seems to read your thoughts and smiles. "hey, we can still enjoy the beach from the shade. plus, it's a perfect excuse for some ice cream."

his optimism is contagious, and under the umbrella, with his shirt still draped over your shoulders, the two of you savor the sweet, cold treat. oscar sits close, his arm around you, as if shielding you from any more harm the sun might inflict.

"thank you," you say, leaning into him. “for taking care of me.”

"anytime," he replies, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "that’s what i’m here for."

[catiuskaa]

feat. mrs. lee bahng

SUMMARY: why have a plot when your two gorgeous boys are finally having a short break before the comeback? y’all already know what to do.

WC: 0.6k

CW: lowercase! [NASTY SMUT] make sure to hide the bible if god watching. like, wash your hands after reading kind of nasty. man, i’m so ovulating right now.

REQ! by 🧋anonnie right here. omg. yes. just yes. no questions asked or needed, i gotchu.

[🔶 ★🎇★ 🔶]

one of them is kissing your neck, but with your eyes closed, you don’t bring yourself to guess just yet, just shiver, whimpering, before being able to feel the shape of his plush lips against your pulse.

“such a pretty princess,” chan whispers, his hands moving your hair off your face.

he had been wearing lipstick when he arrived home with minho after their last photoshoot of the day, which makes him chuckle, because neither of them can be too sure the makeup is still on.

actually, scratch that. minho licks his lips, bending to pepper kisses all over your stomach. if there was any lipstick still on his lips, he’s 100% sure its shimmer would look a hundred times better against your nude skin.

there’s a gasp the younger man holds back, a tremble in his voice when, even after making you reach the stars with his tongue, he still won’t fit.

“s-so… t-tight.”

you know that tensing up is about the worst thing you should do, and you try ignoring the awkward, stingy feeling that shoots through you when minho barely attempts to settle himself where you know he belongs.

luckily, chan’s there, leaving sweet kisses and teasing licks here and there, his hand traveling down to your clit, pressing figure eights and snickering to his hearts content at the sighs that come out of your mouth when specks of that yummy feeling slyly start seeping through.

“mmm, baby… such a champion,” he’s teasing, his teeth biting your cheek. your sweat tastes sweet, much like the champagne he had back at the studio with the boys, the day before the album came out.

both him and minho went back home smirking, knowing that the real celebration was waiting for them at home.

“takes cock so well… shit…”

minho can’t even dare to speak, a small part of him that doesn’g want to hurt you, and the other one that just knows that he’s a blink away from bliss.

“such a tight cunt, fuck.”

at his struggle, chan can’t help but snicker. you just pant, and take minho’s hand, kissing his palm before turning to chan and resting your other hand on his cheek.

“baby,” you sigh. his dimples smile at you, and he pecks your lips.

“it's okay, princess,” chan coos at you sweetly. “don't worry, mhh? min'll make it fit. make you feel really good, yeah?”

his lips can’t fathom leaving your skin, pecking, nibbling, kissing anywhere he can reach.

minho pushes further into you, and you whine, your eyes tearing up lightly, the tears not daring to fall down your cheeks after facing chan’s lips, kissing them away.

“so warm and tight.” minho is oozing in a comfy hornyness, lying against you, his body almost melting over yours, his hands hugging your waist, lips licking and nibbling on your nipples playfully.

“colour, baby?” chan whispers to your ear. there’s no agreement to decide whether today’s about fucking or about making love, but his sweet marks on your neck, as well as the ones minho leaves on your cleaverage are always welcomed.

“green, pretty,” you smile, playing with his hair as you bit your lip, moaning at minho’s antics. “so green. greenest.”

it seems like your answer made him regain his stamina, because you can feel him twich as he licks and kisses down to your stomach. in a harsh manner he takes chan by his neck and plants a hard kiss on his lips. then, his nose rubs against yours, and he bites your lip cheekily, smirking down at you.

“gonna make sure you remember tonight until we come back from tour.”

seems like today isn’t either love nor fucking, because why choose if, ultimately, you can do both?

[🔶 ★🎇★ 🔶]

~kats, who has spent at least two hours thirsting over the album’s pics.

catiuskaa, july 2024 ©

[hoshigray]

Now look here, it's sugardaddy! x sugar baby! reader time >>:3 So here's the rundown: the reader is a college senior who works part-time in a diner and finds out that their favorite customer, Toji, is a sugar daddy and wants to initiate courtship. Although it is a proposition you fail to see yourself saying no to, is this something you can see yourself being in the long run?

A/n: This prompt was picked on a poll to celebrate getting over 50 followers, only for me to get to 100 right after!!?? Y'all...can I give you a hug? ;w; No, oh okay. Anyways, I won't make another poll, BUT I'll be opening thirsts/requests soon!! >:D I just gotta make myself a disclaimer list before we let those lil fantasies of yours fly, lol. But yeah, this is my first time posting a fic over 1k+, so I hope y'all like it. Also, bonus: there's art drawn by Moi (@hoshigaby)?? You'll have to scroll down to find it tho :33 Okay, I'm sorry, go ahead and read!!!

Cw: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - implied age gap (the reader is in their early 20s, Toji's around early or mid-30s) - mating press - cervix fucking - oral (fem! receiving) - pussy drunk Toji - breeding - daddy kink - overstimulation (fem! receiving) - pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin', good girl, honey, kid/kiddo, mama, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - praise - clitoral play (Toji pinches your clit) - reader isn't a virgin but, it's the first time you and Toji have sex.

Wc: 4.9k

"Oh look, your favorite is here."

10 o'clock, it's closing time. All the servers and bussers are ready to buss down tables and sweep the floors, hosts at the front split up tips and head straight home, and the cooks clean the kitchen and throw out the trash. All there's left is the silence of the dining area, where not a single customer is in sight.

Well, minus the one Utahime points out to you.

You turn to the bar area, where almost all the tables are empty, and all the high-rise televisions are turned off. All but for one, which was showing a football game.

A man is watching the screen, sitting in a booth at the far end with a glass of beer on the table. He's wearing a black turtleneck covered with a denim jacket, white fur on the collar, and a silver chain contrasting the black clothing. You gaze downwards to his black jeans pants, where his left foot seems to be tapping the ground. He's waiting for someone.

Once his eyes catch your approaching figure, his deadpanned face shows a smile in recognition. He was waiting for you.

And you smile back as you walk towards him.

The familiarity with this man comes from a year working at the diner. His name is Toji Fushiguro, and he's been a regular even before you started working here. And to make things funnier, he was the first customer you served after a week and a half of training. You can recall when you accidentally put milk and sugar in his specifically requested black coffee, to which you apologized profusely ("Heh, it's alright, darlin'" He flashed a smile that was meant to reassure you. "The first time that's ever happened to me.").

It was there that you found yourself being the only person that's served him. At first, you thought of it as some sort of joke after the coffee mishap, but now, unless you're there to take his order, he'll only have a beer or black coffee with all the other servers. The crew often pokes fun at you, stating you're the older man's favorite. And you gotta admit, it makes your heart swoon knowing this is true.

"There she is," Toji watches you approach him with his foot finally stopped tapping the checkered floor beneath him. "My adorable lil' server."

You giggle as you sit on the cushioned booth seat across from him. "It's good to see you, Mr. Fushiguro. I hope life's been good for you." You wave goodbye to the guy behind the bar counter, who turns off the TV still on as Toji focuses on something else. You promised to be the last person to turn off the lights and lock the doors before leaving, so now it's just you and Toji.

"I thought I told you to drop the Mr. Fushiguro, kid." He reprimands you with his playful smile, the right corner of his lip quirking his scar upward. "And I could ask you the same thing. How's college goin', darlin'?"

An exaggerated sigh leaves your system. "It's going alright. Can't believe I'm about to be done after the next semester, but the senioritis hasn't hit me too strong yet, thank God. And I can't wait to graduate with all this debt on my back~!" You flash the fakest beaming smile with two thumbs up.

Toji chuckles at your fraud enthusiasm. "Mmmm, I bet. But I know you're smarter than me and most people who work for me, so I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"Yeah, I'd like to think so, too." Your chipper attitude dwindles, and Toji notices the change in tone.

"What's up? You don't think you'll get yourself a job?"

"Umm, well," You cough to clear your throat from awkwardness. "I tried signing up for plenty of internships. Some of them shut me down, others just haven't replied back. And I guess it's just me overthinking, but I worry that I won't get a job in something I like..."

"Aww, princess," Toji rises from his cushioned spot to move to your side, sitting close to you with his big jean-covered thigh brushing yours. He places a hand on your back to rub comforting circles. "That's just the thoughts in your head."

You groan into your hands. "I know, that's why I don't know why I'm beating myself up about it so much... But it's okay! I know I'll be fine because I still have this job keeping me going for a year."

Toji raises a brow. "You wanna be a server all your life? Wanna serve me my black coffee and BLT sandwich til my last breath?"

You hit his chest in amusement. "Well, no, but if it comes down to it, I don't mind. I'll just take up more jobs or maybe make a side hustle. Either way, I know Mei Mei will help me out. I'm sure everyone here will if they have the chance."

"I could also help you."

Your hands instantly go up defensively. "No, Mr. Fushiguro, I wouldn't want that! I'm sure you're pretty busy, and I don't want my troubles to burden you."

Toji's eyebrows knit together, his sharp eyes surveying your defensive stance. "It wouldn't be trouble if I'm the one offerin' to help you, honey."

"Yes, but even so..." You look at your lap as your fingers dance with each other to ease your anxiousness. "It would feel unbefitting to have a customer — a valuable one such as you — to help me with my financial problems. Seeing you smile at me when I serve you your coffee...I'm perfectly content with just."

Your gaze locks into your fidgety fingers, saying the last part was probably unnecessary. Yet it was true; Toji had always been patient with you whenever he stopped by, even going the extra mile by giving you a seriously generous tip after his meals. You know you didn't deserve it, but he's already at the door before you can argue with him. If his gracious action was just a mere small percent of what he could do, then he's done plenty for you than needed.

Toji, however, didn't see it that way. He hums as he leans back onto the booth seat, his hand now snaking to the back of your neck, his thumb caressing the nook of your neck and trapezius.

"Well," He breaks the silence, you're listening. "What if we take this outside of customer service?"

The brows are pulled together as you turn to him in slight confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"I've been thinking for quite a while," with his hand maneuvering to rest on your shoulder, he sighs and straightens himself up. "Your manager, Mei Mei, right? I talked with her not too long ago, telling her how much of a hard worker you are and how even while still in school and suffering with assignments, you still smile and make sure the customers enjoy their time here."

You give him a thanks, and he continues on. "Which is why I told her about what I wanna do. So here's my proposition: I'll pay for everything for you. Your debt, bills, clothes, whatever it is your pretty lil' head is worryin' 'bout."

Toji's promise does sound comforting to the ears, but you think about your part in all this. "So, do I have to work for you?"

He chuckles. "No, baby, not working fr' me. But there is something I want you to do."

"Yes?"

Toji doesn't give you a clear answer, staring at your face with a soft smile. You wonder why he's being odd until his face leans forward, and the hand on your shoulder pushes you into a kiss. You let out a yelp into his mouth, but the shock diminishes once you succumb to his warm, intoxicating lips. He tastes like beer, definitely from his drink.

He removes his lips from you, and you faintly exhale in an unsteady breath. "Mmmm, yer too much fr' me, sweetie." Toji groans and kisses down your neck while you place a hand on his chest to grip his turtleneck for support before you dissolve into his arms. And although you shouldn't be at your work at this time of night doing this, it felt too good to end.

"I want you to be with me," Toji says in-between smooches on your neck, moving to paint the other side with his pecks. "You're so good to me, darlin', always being such a good girl." He nibbles on your clavicle, and a soft gasp rewards his eardrums. "Lemme take care of you, y/n."

All that's going through your head is the feeling of his lips on your body and the arousing throbbing sense happening in your nether core.

"Hmm, whaddya say, baby?" His lips are too close to your ear as he playfully bites the lobe. Your thighs rub against one another, and you know there's a wet spot in your panties. "Gonna be my perfect girl?"

If you don't give him an answer quick, you're bound to melt right on this seat, and being a whimpering mess to his touch is embarrassing enough.

"Haaaah...Y-yes," You finally answer in weak whispers, mind spinning and eyes glossy. "I wanna—Ahaaa...I wanna be yours."

You can feel Toji's lips curl into a smile. He lifts his head to look at you, and a hand comes up to cup your face before he gives you a soft kiss on your quivering lips.

"My good girl."

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

A few months have passed since you and Toji formed this new relationship. And getting used to certain things is still a challenge.

For one: covering up your new lifestyle is never easy when you're out with people you know. During winter break, you went to dinner with your friends and offered to pay for the whole table. They looked at you as if you were talking nonsense ("Girl, where the hell you get that kind of money to be covering for all of us?" "For real, is this the same diner you've been working at? Are they hiring?").

Another thing that wasn't easy to get accustomed to was Toji spoiling you. Since you're a college student, Toji only sees you every other weekend when he has time. During those days, Toji doesn't hold back in showering you with gifts and affection. Between the fancy dates in expensive restaurants, riding rides at fun amusement parks, or the bags of new clothes you bring back to your dorm, it was something you didn't expect to happen so quickly. Your roommates constantly tease you about this "mystery man" who makes it known you're his special lady.

But outside of that, the most significant change was you and Toji. To say you two got closer was too easy to put into words. Sure, the money was there, so you could finally get a good night's rest without worrying too much about your school debt or bills. However, you knew this went beyond the dollar bills and the fancy clothes.

Come to find out, Toji knows and remembers things that amaze you. There was a time he bought you a whole wardrobe worth of dresses because he remembered you had to cancel dates with your friends since you had nothing cute to wear. Or the time he got you a box of your favorite teas, even though you briefly mentioned them to him during a talk way back from recollection.

And even away from the materialistic things, you can feel how much Toji loves you. You can feel it in his eyes whenever he's looking at you. You can feel it when you try to argue yourself out of trying an outfit you don't think will be good on you, but Toji coaxes you into it because he knows — not thinks, knows you'll look good wearing it. You can feel it in his hands when they hold yours, when he places a hand on your thigh and rubs it in loving warmth, or when he caresses your cheek when he kisses you goodbye when you two have to return to your own lives.

It's a type of love you didn't see yourself being on the other end of. The more immersed you are, the harder it is to imagine yourself out of it.

Spring break is now upon us, and Toji has invited you to join him overseas for a business trip. You tried to decline, saying it's his trip and you don't want to intrude on his business. That argument was immediately shut down ("Tch, believe me, sweetheart, you're saving me from bashing someone's head in if you're close to me than not. Plus, I wanna see you wear that cute swimsuit I got you."), so he dragged you on his private jet, and now we're here.

During the day is when he's away for work, so you spend the morning either in the penthouse suite you two are staying in, outside taking pictures to show Toji later or looking around at the little shops nearby. Toji is done with work around the early afternoon, so you two spend time together exploring the country, trying new foods, and taking walks around the area while talking about how your day went until the sun goes down.

Everything goes well until Thursday when Toji texts you saying something happened at work and that he'd be at the suite later than usual. Well, it's 7:45, the sun is starting to go down, and Toji is still nowhere in sight. I hope everything is alright on his end.

You're unsure about going outside for a walk on the off-chance you stay out too late. And if something happens to you while Toji isn't close by, that'll give him more to worry about on his plate, and you definitely don't want that for him.

So, you look around the penthouse to see if there's anything to keep you occupied until Toji's return, and then what catches your eye is the swimming pool outside on the terrace which you haven't tried yet. That'll do!

You go to change into a swimsuit, a cute two-piece that Toji bought for you when you two went shopping together. After a quick shower, you enter the pool and enjoy the calm waters while watching the sunset, leaving a beautiful array of colors painting the sky over you.

Tomorrow is your last day here while Toji will do business, and then you're back to school on Monday. The fact that you'll be graduating debt free still blows your mind. Toji really fulfilled his promise and took care of your worries.

Is that to say that your relationship ends once you touch that diploma?

You lift your feet and lay on your back to allow the water to hold you up, ears covered in the water and face looking into the sky as you're lost in your thoughts.

It wouldn't be too far off if Toji wanted to close this whole thing off when you graduate, as the point was for you to not worry about debt and such. That much you understood from the very beginning. But what happens after that? Do you two just go back to being acquaintances that only meet at the diner? And what about the stuff he got you? Do they stay with you forever? And do you have to fight memories of him every time you see them?

What about all the touches, all the hand-holding, all the cuddles, and all the kisses? Are they supposed to mean nothing to you the next time you see his face?

You're thankful for the water keeping you afloat in the pool, but having these thoughts attack your brain just makes you want to sink in loathing.

Until you feel something tickle your feet, having your body react in a state of panic. No longer floating on your back, you search for whatever is torturing your feet. Only to find Toji in front of you wearing black trunks, he chuckles lowly, and your heart sinks in embarrassment.

"T-Toji," You swim up to greet him. "How long were you back from work?"

"For about 10 minutes," He watches you move through the water, following you to sit in the shallow part of the pool for you two to talk. "I saw you in the pool and thought I'd join. I tried callin' out to ya, but the water was blocking your ears."

"Hehe, sorry about that. I was thinking about something. How was work?"

His face went into a deep scowl with rolled eyes, and you giggle at his nonverbal response. "Had I not known I was comin' back here to see you, I'd probably fucked that rookie up."

"That bad?"

He hums and brings you closer to him with his hand on your shoulder. "But don't worry 'bout it. And you? What were you thinking about?"

"Hmm? Oh, it was nothing," your encouraging response is fictitious.

Toji lowers a brow. "Try again."

"No, honest! It was nothing, Toji."

"Don't make me tickle you again, kiddo." You freeze and look at his face. His sharp gaze and slight grin speak for themselves about his seriousness.

A sigh is withdraw from your lips. "I was just thinking about how I'd be leaving on Saturday and being halfway done with my senior year of college."

"And?"

"And, uhh," You gulp and avert your eyes to your lap, your fingers swaying with the pool water. "I was also thinking about me... and you?"

There's silence, the lack of response eating you alive. Then you feel Toji's hand grip your shoulder.

"Are you scared I won't be with you after you graduate?"

He hit the nail because you don't answer for a few seconds. Your eyes still avoid him.

But Toji still persists. "Do you not want to be with me?"

Your head turns to face him in haste, taking you aback at how fast you were. "No! I don't want this to end. I'm grateful for how close you and I have become. I want... I want..." You fall silent once more as your head moves back to your lap as if you'd find the words you want to express lying there.

Using his free hand, Toji grabs your chin to look his way again. "What do you want, baby? Use your words fr' me."

The intense gaze of his jade-green eyes captures your attention, practically daring you to look away from him. The warmth of your cheeks spreads around your face, and you gulp before answering.

"I really appreciate all that you've done for me. And I...I really like you, Toji. I want to be with you." His face doesn't change as you ramble on, causing you to move your eyes to avoid the awkward stare. "But I wouldn't blame you if you want to stop with where we—"

Your sentence was interrupted by Toji's kiss, and a squeak was suppressed between the two lips. You exhale in bliss as your hands find purchase on his solid chest. He deepens the kiss when his hand is posted at the back of your neck.

You break the kiss to breathe, Toji's gruff chuckles fills the warm air.

"You're too adorable, princess. Do you really think I'd want to let my precious girl away from my sight?" You open your mouth to interject, but Toji lifts your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each knuckle. "Listen here, darlin'. I didn't offer to take care of your debt on a whim. I adore the fuckin' shit out of you, and I was gonna wait til your graduation to ask if you'd still want this thing to be official."

"But now that I hear you're interested," his big hand holds yours, fingers intertwined as his thumb brushes your forefinger. "Are ya up for it?"

You breathe slowly to ease your heart, beating at an irregular tempo. You grip his hand in return and offer a sheepish smile.

"Yes. I'd like that very much, Toji."

He smirks and kisses your cheek. "Good girl." Toji has his arms placed behind your back and under your legs. Then he stands up while picking up your figure bridal style. He grins hard when you squeal in surprise as your arms sling around his neck.

"Let's shower," he walks out of the pool and into the suite. "And then afterward, I'll show you how much I've been itchin' to make you be my girl for real."

The heat on your face grows tenfold, and Toji barks a laugh when you hide your face. You can only mentally pray for yourself for what's to come.

⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆

That little prayer did absolutely nothing!

Now you're lying on the bed nude and wet from the shower as the water droplets on your body slide down to the satin sheets beneath you. Your hands cover your mouth, trying to suppress the moans and sobs from exiting your lips.

And the cause of this is the man currently nestled between your legs. You can see the raven hair between your inner thighs, but you feel a wet muscle lapping around your vulva. The lewd noises of Toji eating you out fill the room and has you writhing in discomfort, and you try to slowly move your lower region away from his ravaging mouth.

"Aht aht, you're not goin' anywhere, mama." Toji's rough hands grip your waist and pull you back down, his nose brushing your clit as you jerk upwards. He lifts his head to look at you, and the image of your slick smeared all over his mouth and chin almost makes you faint.

"Put those hands down, baby. Let Daddy hear that sweet voice of yours." He uses one hand to play with your pussy, middle and forefinger abuse your inner lips as his thumb grinds down on your sweet bud. Your eyes shoot up for the stars, and you're forced to do what he says, hands gripping the sheets while your cries are out for him to hear.

"Aahhhh!! Haaah, T-Toji!! 'S too much, too—Ooohh!" His tongue returns between your cunt, licking and tasting the sticky fluid coating your pussy. Your eyes are watering, your mind starts to feel dizzy, and your legs can't stay still to save your life. He's been doing this for 15 minutes!!

You clutch his hair and wail out his name in pleasure, earning a moan from Toji as his grip on your thighs gets tighter.

He can tell you're close to finishing, so he helps you. His tongue slides from your wet center to your clitoris, licking and sucking on the extremely sensitive bud, his teeth lightly pressing down on the pearl.

Your release comes instantly, and your walls spasm as you cry in pure euphoria. Your head pushed deep into the pillow below you, letting your body finish reacting to the climax. However, Toji doesn't wait for you when his mouth drinks your essence. His tongue attacked your sore velvety walls, having you gasp for air.

When he's done, he finally withdraws from between your legs and kneels before you, taking in your disheveled figure. Your tear-stricken face and hooded eyes peer up at him as he wipes his face of your excess come, licking the rest from the back of his hand.

Toji snickers hoarsely. "Sorry, sweetheart, you tasted so fuckin' good I couldn't help myself. Besides," you watch his hands trail down to his dick as he places himself on your messy vagina. "Gotta get you prepped up fr' me."

He puts a pillow under your lower back to raise your hips more. Seeing his dick for the first time has you in mental turmoil. Toji notices you looking and sneers, pulling your hips to him so his balls practically kiss your opening, his dick on full display on your lower abdomen. The girth alone has your cunt pulsating in anticipation, and good God, the length of that thing. It's not the first dick you've seen in your life, but it's definitely the biggest challenge you've come across.

I hope those 15 minutes of prep were enough.

You come back to your senses when you feel the tip of his hefty member circling the corners of your folds, and your slick aids him as a lubricant.

"Ready, babygirl?" You exhale a nervous breath and nod for confirmation. "Okay, we're gonna start real slow."

Toji began to push the tip in, your folds being spread open to accommodate the foreign object intruding into your tight hole. You close your eyes and hold your breath, the pain worsening by the second. You take one breath, and Toji pushes further. With another breath, he goes further. Another-

A giant gasp takes over you as the tip of Toji's cock enters you. And Toji takes his time pushing himself further into you, using every fiber of his being not to rut into your tight walls off the jump.

"Haaah, hmmm, oh fuck," That's easier said than done with you gripping onto him like your life depended on it. Once he's pushed his whole cock into you, your words come out as a babbling mess, gripping his arms for support. He looks down at your disarranged self, chuckling at such a wonderful sight. "You look really fuckin' sexy layin' under me, baby."

"God...Toji," Tears stream down your cheeks, wincing at the pain down south. "'S too muuu-ch, too big for—Hnnngh!!" A sudden thrust of the hips has you biting down on your bottom lip.

"C'mon now, I thought I told you about that. I already let it slide once or twice." Toji places your legs on his shoulders and leans close to you, his body weight adding onto yours as the base of his cock grinds into your sex. "What's my new name, mama?"

"Ah!! I'm sorry, Daddy." The title comes through sobs.

Toji grins from ear to ear, wiping your tears with his calloused fingers. "Good girl," he kisses your forehead as you adjust to his girthy length. "So fuckin' pretty fr' Daddy." He takes your lips with his soft ones before moving his hips in a slow yet rough rhythm.

The mating press has your body submit to him, taking in his cock as it sinks deep into your swollen core. And it only gets worse when his pace gets faster, hitting your sweet spots accurately. At this rate, you're bound to cum earlier than necessary.

Then you feel his tip abruptly touch your cervix, and the wail you let out is picked up by Toji's ears. "Oh? Think I found what I was lookin' for." His hips grind deep in you, his tip abusing your poor cervix to the point you speak in tongues. "Feelin' good, princess?"

"Fuck, Daddyyyy, please, I'm-Ahaaah, Ohhh!" His irrational pace has your brain turning to mush, his cock bullying your insides. The sound of his balls slapping against your squelching folds has you squeezing him harder. "I'm gonna cu-cumm!!"

Toji hisses into your ear, the tone of his voice dominating your senses. "Oooooh, don't grip on me like that, sweetie. Gonna end up — Mmmph! Shit, shit, shit, shit...Gonna give you a baby."

You reach to cup his face through watery eyes glazed in a haze. "Please, Daddy, I want it," You know you're talking nonsense, but why care when you're feeling this fucking good. "Inside, I want it, inside!"

"Heh, be careful with what you wish for, mama." He kisses you again as his hips become erratic, and he moves a hand to your clit and pinches it, whining into your mouth when you're cunt clutches onto him one final time.

You cum around his cock and push your head back on the pillows, your gushy walls spasming around his length, prompting Toji to cum inside you after a few more thrusts. You two moan into each other's mouths, riding each other's high until your bodies calm down.

The two of you pant heavily once the kiss is broken apart, and his deep emerald orbs take in your dazed expression. He smiles when he notices drool on the side of your mouth, using a thumb to wipe it off for you.

"My sweet darlin'," Toji kisses your cheek and sighs deeply into your embrace. "You're too good fr' me, baby."

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"Did I say that I want your babies?"

You're resting with Toji, your head relaxed on his chest as you sit between his legs. The television in the bedroom plays an episode of a sitcom, anything for you two to look at and enjoy a moment of peace together.

He snickers at your question, his chest rising and falling as you lay on him feels nice. "Yeah, you kinda did."

"Wow, that sex must've screwed something up in my head."

"Yeah, my dick had you wanting to risk it all." He snorts when you playfully hit his arm. "Don't worry, we can find some plan b in the morning."

Turning to face Toji, still watching TV, you furrow your brows. "We? What about work?"

"I have tomorrow off. It's your last day, and I don't feel like going back to work, or else I'll be sour all fuckin day. Much rather spend it with you than with some morons."

You look at Toji for a little longer before you smile and kiss his cheek, catching the older man off guard as you nestle into his warm body. "Thank you, Toji. For everything."

The thanks carry a deeper meaning. Not a single ounce of doubt clouds your mind now that you've gotten the closure you wanted. Thinking about how your life brought you to this moment, you're happy with your decision to pursue this relationship and more. And it's thanks to this man for making it possible.

Toji still stares at you before he scoffs and kisses your temple.

"No problem, kiddo."

[joelmillerisapunk]

I'm down bad, fuck it if I can't have him.

Dbf!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 4,425

Summary: In the intimate confines of Joel's home, you navigate the complexities of an open relationship, discovering the liberating power of vulnerability and desire under the watchful eye of his wife.

Warnings: 18+, reader has no physical description, Joel is married and in an open/freeuse marriage and they are also pretty much just nudists, voyerisum, exhibitionism, choking, unprotected p in v, female oral receiving, fingering, age gap, light "daddy" kink, Joel's very respectful of reader. He just wants you to be open with your sensuality. This is not a threesome fic, and Joel's wife (who remains nameless) shows up once or twice. 100% consensual from every party involved. I know these kinks may not read well for everyone, so if you're feeling uneasy about any of these warnings, please scroll awaaaaay awaaaaay. The open nature of Joel's marriage begins right from the start, so proceed with horny caution. There's no adjustment period. Everything's consensual when you're part of a team!

Notes: I learned a new word today, and it made me end up doubling the wordcount. Ty @saradika-graphics for the divider. I hope you enjoy! Your comments and thots are so welcome.

You stand under the warm water, letting it wash away the stress of the day. You'd been staying with your dad's buddy Joel and his wife for a few days now. It was still taking some getting used to. Their open relationship, the free use, the amount of nudity that was on constant display, it was all so different from what you were used to. But they'd been so welcoming, so kind, and you were starting to feel more and more at home.

Suddenly your thoughts are interrupted and you hear the shower door open, and Joel stepping in behind you.

You feel a flutter in your chest, but you try to push it away. This isn't the first time one of them has walked in while you were showering, but it's the first time one of them has come in with you. You're still getting used to this, to the idea that Joel and his wife were okay with any of this. You can't help feeling like his wife is going to walk in at any minute and kill you for being in a shower, naked, with her husband. 

"Hey, darlin," Joel says with a gentle voice. "You okay? You seem a little down today."

You shrug, trying to play it off. "I'm fine, Mr.Miller. Just a little overwhelmed, I guess."

"Call me Joel, please. I get it. It's a lot to take in. But we want you to feel comfortable here, to feel like you can be yourself. And if that means joining us, then we're more than happy to have you."

You feel a heat rise to your cheeks as he gently turns you to face him so his eyes can meet yours. You can see the offer in his eyes, the gentle invitation to explore with him. You feel a spark of curiosity, of desire, and you’re tempted. You're also tempted to look down, god knows you want to see everything he has to offer you but you manage to keep your gaze anywhere else. 

You turn back around and just as you're about to grab the body wash to distract your mind Joel steps closer, and reaches for the soap. "Let me help ya darlin.” You feel a shiver run down your spine as Joel's hand touches yours to grab the bottle. He begins to soap up your arms and chest but pauses just before his hands graze the sides of your breasts. "This okay?"

You nod, and your breath hitches slightly as you give your silent consent. His hands continue, moving with careful precision. As you surrender to the pleasure of Joel's touch, you become acutely aware of the heat radiating from his body, the closeness of his bare skin against yours. You feel his cock, hard and insistent, pressing against the small of your back, it slides between your legs with an ease that speaks of familiarity, the thick shaft glides against your sensitive folds, eliciting a shiver that you hope goes unnoticed.

Despite the initial shock, there's an undeniable thrill that courses through you at the feel of him, so bold and unashamed. You can't help but arch your back ever so slightly, pressing back against him, your body betrays your curiosity and the growing ache between your legs. The moan that escapes your lips is soft, but you know he hears it, he knows the effect he's having on you.

Joel's hands still for a moment, and you tense, worried that you've crossed a line. But then he's moving again, his touch resuming its soothing rhythm, as if the brief interlude never happened. His cock remains hard, a steady presence against your skin, but he makes no move to act on the desire that's so clearly evident.

"You're so tense baby," Joel observes as his hands move to your shoulders, kneading the tight muscles there.

You can't help but let out another soft moan as his fingers dig into your skin. The stress of the day feels like it instantly melts away under his touch. "Mmm, that feels so good," you admit and let your eyes flutter closed.

"I'm glad, why don't we take this to your room? I can give you a proper massage, help you unwind completely."

“I'd like that,” you reply shyly. The idea of a massage sounds heavenly, and the thought of being alone with Joel in the privacy of your room is exciting. 

After rinsing off under the warm water, you emerge from the shower enveloped in a cloud of steam, and your skin is hot and tingling. Beside you, Joel steps out with the self-assured swagger of a man who knows his body is a masterpiece. He briskly towels himself off, each movement causing his muscles to ripple and flex beneath his sun-kissed skin. The towel is quickly discarded, landing in a heap on the floor, as if it were an afterthought—a mere inconvenience.

You can't help but drink in the sight of him; he is raw masculinity personified. His chest is a broad expanse of firm muscle, dusted with just the right amount of coarse greying hair that begs for your fingertips to explore its texture. Every part of him exudes an animalistic grace. There's an undeniable allure to the way he carries himself—completely unashamed and utterly comfortable in his own skin. It's as if he's silently inviting you to admire him, to appreciate every inch of this man who moves with such potent virility.

Joel's hand quickly finds the small of your back as he guides you to your room. Once inside, he instructs you to remove your towel and lie down on the bed, face down. You comply, the soft sheets feel cool against your still-damp skin. You hear the gentle click of a bottle, and then the scent of lavender fills the air as he warms some massage oil between his hands.

His hands are firm yet gentle as they glide over your skin, starting at your shoulders and working their way down your back. Each stroke sends waves of relaxation through you, and you can feel the tension leaving your body.

"Just let go, darlin'," Joel murmurs, his voice is a soothing balm. "You're safe here with me."

You let out a soft sigh, allowing yourself to surrender even more to the feeling of being cared for.

As Joel's fingers deftly knead the muscles along your spine, you find yourself sinking deeper into a state of complete relaxation. His touch is professional yet intimate. He moves down to your lower back and his thumbs press into the flesh just above your ass, eliciting a soft gasp from you. The sensation is intense, but not in a way that makes you uncomfortable. Instead, it's a pleasant mixture of relief and arousal that you haven't felt before. "You're doin great, darlin'," Joel encourages.

Eventually, his hands glide over the skin of your thighs, applying just the right amount of pressure to release the tension in your muscles. You can't help but feel a warmth pooling between your legs from his hands.

The massage seems to go on forever, and when he finally finishes, you feel boneless, completely spent in the most wonderful way.

"How are you feelin?" Joel asks.

"Amazing, thank you, Joel."

"Anytime, darlin'. You know where to find me if you need anything else." He smiles and winks as he leaves. 

You nod, watching as he stands and leaves the room, closing the door softly behind him. You lie there for a while, basking in the afterglow of the massage, your body still tingling from his touch.

—

Later that evening, you find yourself in the living room where Joel is sitting on the couch, engrossed in the work on his laptop. You take a seat next to him, your eyes inadvertently drawn to the sight of his cock resting casually against his thigh. You can't help but stare, your curiosity piqued by the freedom with which he and his wife move about the house.

Joel notices your gaze and chuckles softly. "You can touch it." He says with a gentle and non-judgmental tone. “S’okay, baby. Don't be shy."

You feel a heat creeping up your cheeks, the offer is too tempting to pass up. Tentatively, you reach out and place your hand on his shaft, feeling it twitch in response to your touch. It's a strange sensation, both powerful and vulnerable at the same time.

"That's it, darlin, explore all you want. We're all about discovery here."

With Joel's encouragement, you begin to explore the contours of his cock and your hand begins to move with growing confidence. The skin is soft and warm, and you're fascinated by the way it responds to your touch. You've never done anything like this before, but there's something exhilarating about this newfound freedom.

Joel puts his laptop down and moans as his eyes close, and he leans his head back against the couch. "Just like that."

Your grip tightens slightly as your hand moves up and down his shaft. You watch in awe as his cock hardens, the transformation is absolutely delicious, as is the sound of his soft moans. 

"Does this feel good?" you ask. You're genuinely curious, eager to learn and to please him.

“Mmm - feels a little too good baby," Joel gasps, his hand reaching out to still your own. "If you keep that up, I ain't gonna last much longer."

You pause, looking up at him with wide, innocent eyes. "Is that a bad thing?" you ask, your voice laced with genuine curiosity.

Joel chuckles. "No, it ain’t bad. But I want to make sure you're enjoying this as much as I am. This is about you and your pleasure, too.”

As the words leave his mouth you feel a thrill of excitement at the thought of Joel focusing on your pleasure, a concept that feels new and thrilling to you.

"If you're comfortable I'd like you to let go of your inhibitions and lie back for me," Joel's voice is a soft, inviting caress and his eyes are filled with a warmth that makes you feel safe and cherished. You comply, reclining against the plush cushions of the couch.

"Let me show you just how beautiful you are.” He says as he helps you remove your clothing. You feel the cool air of the room against your skin as you shed the last of your outfit. Joel's eyes roam over you and a look of appreciation lights up his features. He kneels before you, a picture of restraint and desire, his eyes never leave yours. "I want to explore the beauty of your body, to learn the language of your pleasure.” With the utmost care, he parts your legs, his touch is gentle. You can't help but squirm under it, your body instinctively seeking more.

"Relax, baby, let me take care of you, let me take you to a place where only pleasure exists, where you're free to express every gasp, every moan, and every shudder of delight." As the last word leaves his mouth his fingers find the heart of your need, his touch both a revelation and a homecoming. You're lost in a sea of sensation, each stroke, each caress, drawing you deeper into a world of ecstasy. And just as you're starting to lose yourself in the sensations, the sound of the front door opening sends a jolt of panic through you. Your eyes fly open, meeting Joel's calm gaze.

"S’okay, just relax baby," he reassures you, his voice steady despite the interruption. You hear the familiar sound of his wifes heels clicking against the hardwood floor, and then she's standing beside you, leaning on the couch, her eyes widening slightly at the sight before her. You feel a surge of embarrassment as your body tenses under Joel's touch. But Joel doesn't miss a beat. His fingers continue their gentle ministrations, his gaze never leaves yours. "S’okay," he repeats, "We're all safe here."

"Don't let me interrupt," she says, her tone light and playful. "I just wanted to let you know that the Johnsons invited us over for a little get-together tonight. But it looks like you're busy."

Joel chuckles, his fingers still working between your legs. "We can catch up with the Johnsons another time, honey. I'll be a little preoccupied tonight." Joel winks at you.

His wife laughs, the sound warm and genuine. "I can see that. Have fun, you two. I'll be around if you need me."

As she leaves you in the capable, caring hands of Joel, you find yourself sinking deeper into the couch, into the moment, into the expert ministrations of a man who has made it his mission to bring you to the heights of pleasure.

"Let yourself fall, darlin'. I'll be right here to catch you.”

His words wash over you, a gentle command that you find yourself eager to obey. You close your eyes, focusing solely on the sensations that are building within you. The world around you fades away, leaving only the feeling of Joel's touch and the sound of his voice.

"Tell me what you want, baby, wanna hear you say it."

The words feel foreign on your tongue, but there's a part of you that wants to voice your desires, to communicate your needs. "I - I want you to..." you trail off.

"It's okay, darlin'," Joel reassures you, his fingers stilling for a moment. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about. Just close your eyes and say the first thing that comes to mind."

You do as he asks, your eyes fluttering closed as you let your mind wander, your fantasies taking shape in the darkness behind your eyelids. "I want to feel you inside me," you admit.

"Look at me, darlin'," Joel commands, and you open your eyes, meeting his intense gaze. "You're so brave and so beautiful. I'm gonna make you feel so good, you'll forget everything except the feeling of me inside you.” He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that leaves you breathless. "C'mon let's go to my room," he suggests.

He helps you to your feet, and you follow him down the hallway to the master bedroom. The door is slightly ajar, and as you step inside, you see Joel's wife again lounging on the bed. This woman is everywhere.

"You sure like this one, huh?" she teases Joel.

Joel looks at her with a wicked grin on his face. "She's somethin special, ain't she? Wanna join, or you just gonna watch?"

His wife smirks and takes a sip of the wine she left on the nightstand. "Oh, I think I'll just watch for now," she says, making herself comfortable on a nearby chair. "I won't stay long, just finishing my glass." She holds up her wine.

Joel turns back to you, his hands gently caressing your body as he helps you onto the bed and positions himself between your legs. "You ready for me, darlin'?" 

“Yes, please.” With a voice barely above a whisper, you respond, your eyes locked onto Joel's. "Need to feel you inside me, need you to make me whole."

The raw desire in your voice seems to ignite something primal in Joel. His eyes darken with lust, and he lets out a low growl of approval. "Fuck, darlin', you're going to be the death of me.”

As he positions himself at your entrance, you feel the head of his cock pressing against you and the anticipation building with each passing second. With a slow, deliberate thrust, he enters you, filling you completely. The sensation is intense, a mix of pleasure and a slight sting as your body stretches to accommodate him.

"Look at how well she takes me," Joel says to his wife. His eyes never leave yours, and you can see the effort it takes for him to maintain control, to not give in to the primal urge to thrust hard and fast. 

His wife watches with rapt attention, her eyes dark with desire as she takes in the sight of her husband buried deep inside you. "She's incredible, Joel. You look so good together.” His wife watches for a few moments more, her gaze seems to be filled with a mixture of arousal and satisfaction. She seems to enjoy the dynamic unfolding before her, the way her husband is so attentive and giving, and the way you respond to his touch with such genuine enthusiasm. "You two are quite the sight," she comments. "I'll leave you to it. I can see you're in good hands." With a knowing smile, she rises from her chair and walks over to the bed. She leans down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead, then to Joel's lips. "Enjoy yourselves," she whispers

As she exits the room, closing the door softly behind her, you feel a sense of relief wash over you. While her presence was intriguing and added an extra layer of excitement, there's something incredibly intimate about being alone with Joel, about having his full attention focused solely on you and with his wife gone, Joel seems to let go of some invisible restraint. His movements become more urgent, his hands exploring your body with a newfound intensity. He kisses you deeply, his tongue dancing with yours.

"You're so fucking perfect," he murmurs against your lips, his voice filled with awe and desire. "Could stay inside you forever.”

You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him. Joel reaches between your bodies, his fingers finding the sensitive bundle of nerves at your core. He circles it with his thumb, applying just the right amount of pressure to send you spiralling towards an orgasm. "Come for me, darlin'," he commands, his voice a low growl in your ear. "Let me feel you squeeze my cock.” 

The tension within you builds to an almost unbearable peak. The sensation is overwhelming, a tidal wave of pleasure that threatens to engulf you at any moment. You try to hold back, to savor the feeling, but it's a losing battle. With a cry that surprises even you, your body convulses as the orgasm floods through you, your muscles rhythmically clench around Joel's cock and in the throes of your climax, the words slip out before you can stop them, "yes, Daddy, yes!" you gasp, the term of endearment falling from your lips in a moment of pure vulnerability. 

As the waves of pleasure begin to subside, you realize what you've said. A heat creeps up your cheeks, and you bury your face in Joel's shoulder, mortified by your slip-up. But when you dare to glance up at him, you're met with a smirk of pure satisfaction.

"You like that, baby?" he asks, “want me to be your Daddy?"

You nod shyly, too caught up in the afterglow of your orgasm to form words. 

"Say it again," Joel commands softly. "Tell me who I am."

Swallowing past the lump in your throat, you meet his gaze and whisper, "Daddy." 

A growl of approval rumbles deep in Joel's chest as he leans down to kiss you again. With the taste of your shared passion still lingering on his lips, Joel pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours for a moment before he speaks. "You're doin so good, takin me so deep," he praises, 

"Tell me what you want, baby. What do you need from Daddy?"

The words come to you in a rush, born of a deep, unspoken desire that you've only just begun to explore. "Want you to choke me daddy," you whisper, the request barely audible even to your own ears. But Joel hears you, and the smoldering look of approval in his eyes is all the confirmation you need. 

“Mmmm, such a good girl," Joel murmurs while his hand moves to the nape of your neck. His fingers tangle gently in your hair, exerting just enough pressure to tilt your head back, exposing the delicate column of your throat to his hungry gaze. "You want daddy to own this pretty little throat?"

You nod, your breath coming in short, ragged gasps as you anticipate the feeling of his hand around your neck. The vulnerability of the position and the trust it requires, only serves to heighten your arousal. With a gentleness Joel applies pressure to your throat, his fingers wrapping around it just tightly enough to make you acutely aware of his dominance over you. The sensation is intoxicating, a heady mix of fear and excitement that sends a fresh wave of wetness flooding between your legs.

“Doin’ so good for me baby.” 

 As Joel's hand tightens around your throat, your heart pounds in your chest, the rhythm echoing in your ears. The world around you blurs, narrowing down to the feeling of his body pressed against yours, the weight of his hand on your neck, and the intensity of his gaze holding yours. 

"That's it, darlin', Let Daddy take care of you."

You focus on the sound of his voice, allowing it to guide you through the haze of pleasure and fear. With each breath you take under his command, a sense of calm washes over you, a trust so profound that it borders on euphoria.

Joel's thrusts become more insistent now, his hips driving into you with an urgency that speaks of his own rising pleasure. The hand around your throat loosens slightly, allowing you to draw in a deep breath before he tightens his grip once more. The cycle of restriction and release becomes a primal rhythm that resonates deep within your core.

"You're so fucking beautiful like this.” His eyes dark with lust as he watches you surrender to him completely. "Such a good girl for Daddy."

The praise washes over you like a benediction, filling you with warmth and satisfaction. You feel yourself opening up even more to him, your body yielding to his every demand without hesitation or reserve.

With his free hand, Joel reaches down between your legs once more, his fingers finding that sensitive bud with practiced ease. He begins to circle it again, applying just the right amount of pressure to send shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your veins. The combination of sensations – the tightness in your throat, the fullness in your core, and the relentless stimulation at your center – is almost too much. But there's no escape from this exquisite torment; all you can do is hold on and ride out the storm that's building inside you once again . 

"Come for me one more time," Joel commands, “show daddy how much you like this baby.” 

The world around you fades to a distant hum as Joel's fingers continue their mission, each stroke bringing you closer to the edge. The pressure in your core builds to a crescendo.

"Look at me darlin'," Joel encourages, "Look at daddy when you come."

With a strangled cry, you surrender to the waves of ecstasy crashing over you. Your body convulses, muscles clenching and releasing as you ride out the intensity of your orgasm. The sensation of Joel's cock, still hard and buried deep inside you, prolongs the pleasure, each pulse of your inner walls milking him, urging him towards his own release.

As the last ripples of your climax subside, Joel loosens his grip on your throat, allowing you to breathe deeply, the rush of oxygen to your brain heightens the aftershocks of pleasure that continue to ripple through you. He withdraws from you, the absence of his cock leaving you feeling momentarily empty, but the look in his eyes promises more to come.

"You did so good, baby," Joel praises. "Now, daddy's got a special treat for you."

He guides you to sit up on the edge of the bed, his hands on your shoulders to steady you. His cock, glistening with your shared arousal, stands proudly before you. 

"You want to make daddy feel good, don'tcha?" Joel asks.

You nod, your eyes locked on his shaft, you lean forward and tentatively lick the tip of his cock. The salty-sweet taste of him on your tongue is intoxicating, and you find yourself eager for more. You part your lips and take him into your mouth, your hands reach up to stroke the base of his shaft as you begin to suck and lick him with growing confidence.

"Fuck, baby," Joel groans, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair, guiding your movements but not forcing you. "Just like that. Suck on daddy's cock."

You look up at him as you bob your head up and down, taking him as deep as you can. The feeling of his girthy cock hitting the back of your throat is both a challenge and a turn-on, and you find yourself wanting to take him even deeper, to please him in every way possible.

Sensing your eagerness, Joel's grip on your hair tightens, and he begins to thrust into your mouth gently, setting a rhythm that you eagerly follow. The hand that was stroking his shaft moves to cup his balls, massaging them gently as you continue to suck him off.

"Goddamn your fucking good at this," Joel praises, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Daddy's gettin real close. Ready for your treat?"

You nod, your eyes watering slightly as he increases the pace of his thrusts. The feeling of his cock swelling in your mouth, the salty taste of his pre-come on your tongue, are all signs that he's close. With a final, guttural groan, Joel's body tenses, and he floods your mouth with his hot, sticky come. You swallow reflexively, the taste of him mingling with the taste of your own arousal still lingers on your lips.

As the last few spurts of his orgasm subside, Joel gently pulls out of your mouth, his hand still tangled in your hair. He uses his thumb to wipe a stray drop of come from the corner of your mouth, then leans down to kiss you. "You're incredible, baby," he says against your lips  "Thank you for trusting me.” Joel's hand gently cups your chin, his fingers tracing the contours of your jaw as he tilts your head back to meet his gaze.  "So does this mean daddy can have you whenever he needs?" Joel asks, the question hangs in the air between you, an invitation to explore the boundaries of your relationship, to embrace the free-use dynamic that defines his marriage with his wife.

You find yourself nodding before you've even fully processed the implications of your agreement. The thought of being available for Joel's pleasure at any moment is both daunting and exhilarating. It's a level of submission that you've never experienced before, but with Joel, it feels right. It feels safe. "Yes, Daddy can use me whenever he needs." You wink at him.

A slow smile spreads across Joel's face, and he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I want you to know that this isn't just about sex for me," Joel says earnestly. "This is about trust and respect and mutual satisfaction." He reaches out to stroke your cheek gently with the back of his hand before continuing. "You mean more to me than just another body in my bed. You're not just a desire, you're a need," he whispers into your hair, "and I intend to cherish that, every single day.”

With those words, Joel pulls you into a tender embrace. In his arms, you feel cherished, empowered, and ready to embrace the newfound freedom and pleasure that await you in this unconventional sanctuary.

Special @milla-frenchy taglist 😘

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One

Steve’s bedroom door is open. He’s perched on the edge of the bed, pretty much everyone else wedged in here with him. Rob is on the bed too, leaning against him. Jon and Nance are sitting at the bottom. All the kids are sitting on the floor.

Everyone's quiet. Waiting. Straining to hear.

El and Eddie are next door.

And Steve has no fucking idea what the hell is going on.

The gates are all closed. Hawkins is a mess, but within the first twenty four hours there was a big push to start repairs. The government is probably pouring cash on this to tidy it up, clean it up, cover it up; make sure everyone knows it was an earthquake.

Gas main damaged in the quake leaked; if anyone saw anything weird, they’re already convinced it was a hallucination. So there’s that.

Everyone got out of hospital within hours; the worst off was probably Steve himself. His wounds from the bats, from their first run in with Vecna, still hadn't healed and one of them had been growing steadily more infected. He has fresh injuries from this time around; all of them inflicted by Eddie. Steve has two broken ribs, and he sounds like he's been smoking 100 a day for sixty years from where Eddie nearly choked him out. He needed twelve stitches in the nasty gash he picked up on the back of his head, but luckily no concussion this time. He's covered in scratches and bruises, but the hospital were happy to let him go with antibiotics and firm instructions to rest.

Eddie, surprisingly, has a clean bill of health. He was filthy, and the scars were bad but...otherwise, he didn’t have so much as an open scratch on him. Everything healed up completely. Which makes...no sense. Steve literally saw him die.

But that also means while they were preparing...planning...working to take down Vecna...he had Eddie the whole time. Potentially, that was nearly a week. The shock they had all had, seeing Eddie again. Obviously they hadn’t planned for that, hadn't factored it into their plans, and it completely and utterly fucked everything up.

They were done for. They were all going to die, no question. But something happened. Something changed. Steve was convinced he was about to get choked to death by Eddie, or maybe impaled on that ridiculous sword but...no. Eddie had blinked awake. And then he’d cut Vecna’s head clean off...which, unexpected, but still a win.

Eddie had dropped the sword, stumbling along after everyone else to get out before the gates closed on them.

Since then, Eddie's been silent. Going where he's told, stumbling through the examinations, sitting on the periphery of the group, staring into space. He looked broken, even to Steve, who realistically didn't know Eddie that well. Eddie had the vacant stare of someone who's just been though something traumatic.

When Dustin had tried to hug him, even, Eddie had flinched away.

No one tried to touch him after that, giving up talking to him pretty quickly. Eddie wasn't going to answer. Steve could practically watch Dustin getting more and more distressed over the state of Eddie. Everyone was aware; all they could do was sit and watch it happen.

Once they were out of the hospital they could look after him; try and figure out what the fuck was happening.

Eddie had disappeared pretty much the moment he had opportunity. He’d mumbled something about finding a bathroom, pretty much the first words he;d spoken, and as the minutes ticked by, it became increasingly obvious that Eddie wasn't coming back. The hospital was a mess, and they were supposed to wait for Owens.

Obviously the kids weren’t willing to let him out of their sight that fast. Vecna’s done something to him, controlled him somehow, that much is obvious. Just...nobody knows what.

When Owens finally showed, it was done and dusted fast. They confirmed Henry/One was dead. Owens had a lot of other shit to sort out; they were no longer his priority and they knew it. Dustin had been ball of barely contained anxiety the whole time, clearly wanting to track down Eddie but...by some sort of group mutual understanding...no one mentioned Eddie was alive. No one said he'd come back with them.

In the confusion, no one seemed to question it. Owens clearly hadn't bothered to look at the hospital's records, or whatever it was he could do. They left as fast as they could without raising suspicion.

The kids had found Eddie again pretty quickly, more through luck than anything, but finding Eddie sitting on the porch of some random house, nursing a bottle of vodka was...well. Everyone’s got their own coping mechanisms, Steve guesses.

Eddie still hasn’t spoken about what happened, but he was pretty quick to pass out on the spare bed.

El’s got that look on her face when she comes back, like she’s thinking big thoughts.

“Is he okay?” Dustin asks first. Obviously there were concerns. Vecna had Eddie for days, there could be anything in Eddie’s head. What if there’s something...lingering...from Vecna? Could be a risk.

El shakes her head, “he is very sad.”

“Sad about what?” Nancy, this time.

“When Eddie was…” she makes a face, she doesn’t have the words, for a moment, to convey what she wants to say, she puts the fingertips of both hands together, making bars, “Vecna put Eddie’s mind in a cage, he doesn’t remember what his body was doing, I don’t think.”

“So Vecna had him as a kind of puppet? He couldn’t get out of the cage?” Robin clarifies, “that’s good right, he didn’t see himself hurting us?”

El tilts a hand from side to side, “he did not want to leave the cage. Vecna made him…” she purses her lips, “love. He was in love. They had a baby, she grew up, she was going to college.”

“That makes no sense, he was there less than a week?”

“Time is different in dreams.”

“Yeah,” Dustin chimes in, “even if a dream feels long, it actually happens really fast.”

Steve huffs, “right, but he knows now, right, that it wasn’t real? So it doesn’t matter, right?”

“It matters to him,” El tells him so firmly Steve feels like he fucked up, “it was real to him.”

“Steve,” Nancy turns to him, “imagine if you got married, had...I don’t know, six kids and a Winnebago,” Steve winces because, yeah, okay, he might have deserved that, “and you come home after years and years of living that, being happy, only to find out it wasn’t real, how would you feel?”

“It’d be like they died,” Robin says next to him, suddenly gasping and making a pained noise, “oh that’s horrible. Poor Eddie.”

El’s nodding, and everyone else is silent, clearly letting that sink in.

And, yeah, Steve figures...that’s got to be pretty awful.

The kids have gone home, but Nancy, Rob, Jon and Argyle have all stayed. They promised the kids they would watch over Eddie, which wasn’t hard since Eddie’s been asleep pretty much since they got back. Steve doesn’t know if is the most of a bottle of vodka Eddie had downed, or the week he’s had but...he’s still asleep.

They take it in turns to check on him, every half an hour, someone comes up. Just to check.

Steve doesn’t know what woke him, but he needs to piss. Robins passed out next to him, snoring her wheezy little snore. Steve gets up and goes to the bathroom, figures he should check on Eddie.

And Steve finds himself suddenly very awake at the sight of an empty bed and an open window.

They split up, heading for likely places. Nancy, Argyle and Jon pile into Jon’s car, heading for Wayne first and then with a vague plan to work through town on the way back if he’s not there.

Steve and Robin strike out in the opposite direction.

“Lets head for the place the kids found him.”

“You think he would have gone back there?”

Robin shrugs, “why did he go there in the first place?”

“You think it means something to him?” A horrible feeling starting to form in the pit of Steve’s stomach, even as Robin shrugs ‘maybe’ at him.

They can’t see Eddie, but Robin insists they check it out. Steve’s glad Robin has half their brain, because she was dead right. There’s smashed glass on the porch and the door is open; someone has broken in.

Part Three

@autumncrocusandladybug @duckyreads @neonfruitbowl @slv-333 @starlight-archer @skys-archive @justdreamersdream @moomkin77 @prazinos

[cozage]

Hi hope you are having a good day

I wanted to know what would it be like if, Mihawk, Shanks and Buggy had a female s/o that was basically like inosuke from demon slayer, they are a bit dumb but will pick a fight with everyone, and they only wear a bandaged top with like shorts or smt.

You guys have been asking me lots of questions and making me feel loved so here is this!!! (And maybe more spicy things to come later this week 👀)

Characters: female reader x Mihawk, Shanks, Buggy Wordcount: 850 CW: the last bullet point in all of them that are a little spicy

She’s Kinda Stupid, but…

Mihawk

This man is literally so tired. He’s so tired. 

Will very often say things like “I didn’t know I was in charge of three children.” (yes Perona and Zoro are his CHILDREN okay) or “Are you acting your age today, or are we pretending you’re six years old again?” or “I’ve met dogs more behaved than you.” (it’s all coming from a place of love and he knows you won't take offense because you don’t take offense to anything)

You’re a brat and he knows it (and loves it). He loves you but god you are so much work when the two of you are out in public. He feels like he can’t take his eyes off you or you’ll end up in a fight with some random guy because he looked at you funny. 

Most of the time he doesn’t acknowledge your shenanigans. When you fight with someone, he’ll grab your wrist and physically pull you away from them, usually with some kind of snide remark. 

Sometimes you’re justified, though. And when that happens, he gives the guy who wronged you five seconds to apologize before he sets you loose. Most of the time the guy sees Mihawk and apologizes, but the swordsman secretly hopes the guy won't apologize. And on the few occasions they don't apologize, he smirks as he releases you. 

He always has to pull you off the guy because you just don't know when to stop. In all truthfulness, it kind of gets him hot and bothered, but he always pretends to be irritated. “You’re psychotic. Do I need to teach you how to behave?” he scolds, his gold eyes scanning your body. “I can think of a few ways to get you to listen.”

Shanks

Shanks adores you. Cheers you on. Loves watching you cause absolute chaos. Why? Because you are him without a conscience. 

Shanks knows when he needs to flip the switch from polite to fight, but you don’t. You are always at 100%, your most authentic self 24/7. And he absolutely adores that about you. Even if that means that sometimes you take it a bit too far. 

Sometimes Shanks will even use your emotions to his advantage. “Can you believe that guy just did that?!” or “Talk about rude!” knowing full well you’re ready to throw down whoever wronged you or him. 

The absolute only time that Shanks will stop you from fighting someone is when you all are in a building. He’s had to pay SO MANY owners back for you destroying glassware and furniture and plenty of other damaged goods. You learned pretty quickly that the first words out of your mouth should be “Wanna take this outside?!” because if you were outside then Shanks didn’t stop you. 

The first few fights, he watched carefully, making sure he would be able to jump in if he needed to. The next couple of fights, he watched you with an amused look, excited to see how you were going to beat up the guy (and just to make sure you would win). Nowadays, he doesn’t even feel the need to go outside with you, but sometimes he does just to cheer you on. 

After your victory, he always rewards you with a bunch of kisses and sings your praises. He pulls you onto his lap at the bar, making sure everyone knows you're his. “You did so well. I loved how you stomped that guy into the dirt,” he’ll coo, dotting kissing across your neck. “How about later I show you just how proud I am of you, okay?”

Buggy

You never cease in stressing this man out. He is always on high alert now because of you. 

Stealth missions? Forget it. Normal day in town? Absolutely not. He BEGS you to be a normal human being in public. To have an ounce of self preservation. But you cannot comprehend that. People who talk shit deserve to get hit.

He is constantly running after you, screaming at you to stop fighting people for no reason. Sometimes he’ll even jump in front of your punches to try and de-escalate it (which of course doesn’t work and results in you just punching him in the face). You don’t even feel bad, you just scream at him to get out of the way and beat up the other guy even more since he made you hurt your boyfriend.

If anyone makes fun of him, he doesn’t even have a chance to scream at them anymore. You’re already pounding their face into the ground. And every time you do, he falls in love with you a little bit more. 

“That’s right, that’s my baby!” he screams, watching you smugly walk away from some guy’s beaten body. “Let’s go celebrate, you can do whatever you want.” He grabs your hand, practically pulling you back to the ship.