#He looks like he has not really slept ever and it's very relatable

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

matilda - m. murdock

a/n: hey guys i have back pain and i have daddy issues so i wanted to write a quick blurb about it. so. sorry if you guys cant particularly relate to this one it's for me <3 warnings: ANGST, reader cries a lot, probably cursing, lots of daddy issues, lots of being upset, mentions of fathers being drunk, matt picks up the reader but matt in my brain can lift like 250+ so, uhhhh i don't know guys just angst and daddy issues ! word count: 1.2k summary: you have daddy issues and back pain. matt does his best to help. pairing: matt murdock x gn!reader now playing: matilda - harry styles "i don't believe that time will change your mind/in other words, I know they won't hurt you anymore/as long as you can let them go"

Matt finds you on the floor of the kitchen, your knees hugged against your chest. He is so tired, bruises starting to really hurt after sitting all purple and blue on his ribs and his arms. He’s just in his boxers his hair damp from a shower.

You are just in a pair of boxers and a muscle tee. Your knuckles are white, and you are staring into space in the most literal definition. It’s four a.m. You are a twenty something year old adult, you have not slept in your mother’s bed in years.

And yet, you feel like a child.

And your back is fucking killing you.

Matt sits next to you on the kitchen floor, goosebumps shooting up his skin as his feet and palms feel the cold, rough tile floor. His hand finds your arm and gently rubs his thumb against your skin.

“What’re you doing on the floor, sweetheart?” His voice is low and thick with sleep. He is so tired, that his words aren’t nearly as poetic, sappy or flirtatious as he wants them to be (maybe not all at once, but he most certainly wished they were better than that).

You consider lying to him for a moment. Really, you do. You could tell him that the floor is just more comfortable, that you want him to fuck you right here against the tiles, that you just could not sleep, that there is nothing deeper than a busy brain that cannot calm down.

“My dad called me while you were away.” You tell him, your voice soft. Matt will be able to hear it no matter how loudly or quietly you say it. And at your confession, he tenses. He has a complicated relationship with your father, but his relationship is calm compared to the raging waters that make up how you feel about the man.

“Okay,” he starts, rubbing your arm gently. “And what did he say?”

You blink.

“Nothing. Nothing that should have made me feel like this.” You tell him, a horrible taste in your mouth. From what, you do not know. Matt doesn’t respond right away, waiting for you to tell him more. “He was drunk.” You say quietly.

“Oh.” He knows you don’t drink. He knows you have a very complicated relationship with substances. “I can understand why that might be upsetting..” he tries, and you shake your head, your face twisting into frustration, anger, and perhaps a hint of sadness.

“He’ll never change.” You whisper, too afraid to be any louder, too afraid that maybe from miles and miles away, your father will hear you. That maybe if you say it any louder, it won’t be a secret anymore, and that you’ll start crying if you say it any louder. “He’ll never ever change.” You say, and your head turns to look at him.

And you stare at the man that you love, and you stare and stare, and you think about Jack Murdock who loved his son so much that he was willing to die for him to have a better life, that he was entirely selfless when it came to the person you are lucky enough to call yours.

And you think about how your father wants nothing to do with you. He never did. Not really.

That’s when you start to cry.

It starts with a few tears rolling down your cheeks, salty and fat, as if they hold all of the memories your brain has locked away to protect you. Then, the tears come out faster, and faster, until you are choking on your own breath, racking with sobs. Matt’s arms are around you in an instant.

He pulls you close to him, and you feel bad for getting tears all over his skin. He’ll tell you it’s his fault for wearing just briefs. He pulls you into his lap, and while you cry into his neck, his hand comes down to your back and slips under your shirt, gently rubbing it up and down.

You twitch at the feeling, your back still aching as you sit with him, the pain contributing to your tears. Matt’s lips kiss your forehead, and he just holds you for a long time. Your breathing becomes short with how violently you’re sobbing.

“Hey, easy..” he says softly before he tilts your head up to look at him. “Your breathing isn’t healthy. Come on, watch me,” and he takes deep breathes in and out, expecting you to copy his attempts. When you’re finally at a point where you an breath on your own, Matt begins wiping your tears gently.

“Sorry…” You say quietly. He just shushes you softly and leans in to kiss your cheek.

“You never have to apologize for your emotions.” He promises, “I love you so much. I am so sorry he’s like that,” and now Matt is crying and he’s not sure why, but you feel awful about it, so your shaky hands come up to wipe his tears and he wants to laugh at your attempt at gentleness because he wonders how often you were shown the same kindness and his heart aches at the most realistic answer.

“Honey, you never have to worry about him again. You made it out, he can’t hurt you anymore..” He tells you, and you try to believe him. “You’ll never feel anything except safe and loved, I promise.” He says quietly, before leaning in to kiss you gently. “Is there anything else?” He senses that you are in physical pain too. Partially because he can tell by how your jaw clenches that you are tense, but even without his super senses, he just knows you aren’t feeling well.

He knows you too well.

“My back is killing me.” You confess, and he frowns. “And my head now.” Your head always hurts after crying.

“Okay,” He nods, “Hold tight,” and somehow, your fucking angel of a man picks you up off the floor and carries you to bed. He steps away only to grab you a glass of water and some Advil. You take it quietly, chugging the water before he sits on the bed next to you.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” You whisper, still upset, but so so grateful. He just smiles sadly and leans in to kiss you gently. Then, he pulls away to ask,

“How about I give you a quick back massage and then we get to bed? You must be tired. I know I am.” You sigh and nod, shifting so you’re laying on your stomach.

Matt leans down and kisses your shoulder before whispering, “I meant it you know. You made it out. You’re safe. You’re loved.”

And even without being a human lie detector like him, you can tell he’s telling the truth. It makes you cry more, but Matt stays to wipe the tears away. He’ll always stay. And he’ll always tell you as much when you need the reminder.

You’re safe.

You’re loved.

These words echo in your brain as you drift off to sleep, Matt holding you close, fingers tracing patterns into your skin as you fall into a dreamless sleep, focusing on the warmth that radiates off him.

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x y/n #daredevil #daredevil fic #matt murdock #daredevil fanfiction #matt murdock fic #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock angst #daddy issues #angst #back pain #matt murdock x gn!reader #matt murdock x sad reader #daredevil angst #daredevil blurb #matt murdock blurb #matt murdock blurbs

[antiquecolor]

Cute, wonderful, gorgeous MXTX sketchbook zine by @bonesblubs arrived! 🥺💕 Instantly makes this shelf x100 better, thank you so much. It’s going to live right there for now! 

#I will cherish it forever #Your WWX is my favorite #He looks like he has not really slept ever and it's very relatable #and thank you SO much for the JGY I wasn't expecting it ;; #my stuff

[onyourhyuck]

Animal Instinct. | NCT SERIES

Title: CHAPTER 1 ‘The Untamed.’

— Prologue: “When the sun sets meet me at my apartment, if you dare.”

— Summary: You are a marine biologist. You should be able to understand animals and their way of living. When you encounter a new society in a bar under the name ‘Sour Grapes’ you find yourself in a troubling situation with seven different men. Seven different animals.

— Genre: Smut with plot. Minors dni. Fantasy with modern timeline. Female!reader. Secondary genders (but with animals) dreamies are complete red flags. Dub-con. Everything is very dark romance related. Nothing here is for the weak. Everything is just pure filth. It gets progressively worse and worse. Multiple orgasms. Overstimulation. Pet names such as ‘my pretty whore’ or ‘princess’ — minor hair pulling, Fingering (female receiving). Creampie, cumming inside / no protection please use a condom.

— Notes: I APOLOGISE FOR TAKING SO LONG. BUT HERE IT IS. MORE FREQUENT UPDATES COMING UP.

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One thing you love about yourself is that your work basically shapes your entire routine. You love walking inside your laboratory seeing the animals in the tanks you have to take care of and examine. This included various important research that no one should know. It is highly top secret. A simple leak of what you collect samples from the sea or other animal biology from biomes and journals you keep could really be a mess for you.

Working on separating the two and three sides of the samples you have listed from the deep oceans all throughout different sights. You felt a hand approaching behind you quickly.

The man taps your shoulders when you’re so busy working with the test tubes. “Hey Y/n mind giving me—” you jump and turn around with a fright.

“Seriously Johnny! I told you not to sneak up on me like this. Especially when I’m working with these highly reactive test tubes.” You scowled at your coworker, Johnny Suh. He was one of your friends and coworkers. Wearing a white cloak and round black glasses on.

He was a handsome fella. Very charming and handsome you have to admit it. Johnny can be professional but he could also be quite a mood maker in such a serious profession.

Laughing at your unusual behaviour, you’re never this jumpy when you are working but he probably assumes he scared you to death. “What got you so anxious Y/n? You never get scared when i do this.” Johnny raised an eyebrow. He swore he could see your own soul leave your body.

Truth be honest ever since that night with Ningning all you are thinking about how your entire life has been a lie. Sour Grape’s has taken your mind over. No. Mark has taken your entire mind off and away from your daily routines. Everyday you’re thinking about ‘How can this be possible?’ Humans coming from other animals and not just monkeys. It’s insane information. You shouldn’t be believing this but when Jaehyun said it’s a secret; it makes you think there must be some truth to it.

No one on earth would make up such a stupid fairytale on the spot.

If you weren’t a marine biologist with side degrees of zoology you’re just the type of person to not let this slide. You want to learn more.

You want to experience the truth. You want to see if it’s the truth if they actually are who they are setting themselves to be.

Letting out soft mumbles as you close off the testing tubes, afterwards putting the collective tubes in the stirring device. “I haven’t slept well for the past few days. Sorry if i seem like I’m on the edge.”

He gave you a soft smirk leaning on the side of the table while watching you. “Oh honey you seem like you’re more than on the edge. You’re off the edge.” Your eyes make eye contact after you were done with your tasks.

Your friend trails now questioning you as you’re looking at him with a soft look that made your thoughts even worse.

“What’s on your mind, Y/n?” Johnny asked with a small smile. You shake your head, you don’t want to share something so crazy. He might think you’re actually insane, or worse, he might even think you lost your entire marbles.

“Nothing serious, John. Let’s just finish up and go home. I’m tired.” You excused yourself from the conversation to finish up. The only thing you want to do today is figure out what to eat for dinner.

Walking down the street to your favourite food truck, you decided to take your mind off whatever you were thinking for the past week or so.

You felt like your brain was just constantly going back to the same topic and it was draining truth be honest. What better way to distract yourself than to eat your favourite stir fry noddles?

Being a local customer the food truck owner gives you discounts nowadays because you were a customer for a long time. A regular at that.

“Hey I would like the usual.” You gave a smile at the owner who nodded seemingly being happy to seeing you drop by.

“I was beginning to think you’d never return, Y/n.” Said the truck owner and you gave a little smirk. “How could I not return? You make the best noodles.” Complimenting them they blushed and started making the noodles for you.

But then something flashed behind you at a fast pace. You didn’t even realise it until the figure stood overshadowed by their body remaining still as a statue.

Gawking at the menu on the side. Your eyes widen when you turned around with disbelief flashing over your lips and cheeks.

“Young man what would you like?” The owner interrupts your own lingering thoughts of shock. The voice, the sound of his breathing, everything else made you feel so small and in danger just by the presence alone of this man.

He looks back from the menu. “The original stir fry m’am.”

You did not realise you were literally staring Mark down in this moment until his face turned over to you and you quickly looked away biting your bottom lip, staring at your very own feet on the ground. You can’t believe it that Mark and you crossed paths when all you’ve been saying is how you’re going to distract yourself finally!

What was this coincidence? Fate? Destiny?

There was this expression on his face that falters when he finally acknowledges your existence. It’s like he met you before but he was trying to find out from where.

And then it hits him. You were the one with Jaehyun that one night.

The dark tone of voice strikes you like a knife behind your back if anything. “You’re that girl at the bar that one time.” Mark said to you, turning to look at you fully with his entire body now facing you.

You definitely caught the predator’s attention now with how easy you’re to read. God you hate being so readable like an open book — a very non interesting book at that.

You fake a smile, maybe if you just pretend you don’t know him he will give up speaking to you. “Oh no, I don’t attend bars. I’m… allergic to alcohol.” You cringe deep inside when you made up the most stupid excuse.

Really? Allergy? He didn’t even ask about your allergies.

Mark frowns which lead you to believe he wasn’t completely swayed by your own actions right now. You forget how much of animal instincts he must have by now. You can’t fool a tiger easily.

“You must’ve mixed me up with someone else.” You said quietly trying to make it seem more and more believable if you just keep talking.

Thankfully you were praying for your meal to arrive first beforehand he got his. The prayer was answered when you grab your plastic container smiling and thanking them. You literally dashed away but why try to run away?

Trying to out run one of the most dangerous cats you probably made the worst mistake to even show a hint of speed in your movements.

When you were to reach your destination to your car the same black towering figure stands over you. In front of you with a dark gaze.

You let out a mini gasp to be honest, you feel like your heart is being crushed by two large walls that keep on moving forward and forward until your heart and lungs collapse.

Mark sighs. “You know that I can hear your beating heart when you lie?” He said rather amused but also it was eerily like a reminiscing threat thrown at you. You stand there quivering, trembling even, and it made Mark so much more entertained than he thought he would be.

He took a step forward. The stir fry plastic box was shaking in very discreet manner in your hands. Each step he takes you took three steps backwards.

This was a new cat and mouse game you didn’t want to be playing with him at all.

“Y/n was it? Jaehyun mentioned you.” Mark said with a little more confidence now that he actually had you cornered. Now you cannot lie on the spot and try to run away from him.

It’s ridiculous. He looks and was human but in reality he’s not just entirely human is he? He’s a freaking tiger with probably the most define genetics. It’s crazy to you.

You mumble trying to get away still. There was just this instinct inside you to make excuses until you can’t anymore. “Sorry i have to go, i am extremely busy.”

Your heartbeat picked up again, Mark sighs pressing an arm around your body and now moved you to sit down at a bench in the scene. You flinch and he forced you to sit down in front of him with his dark eyes watching you. “Another lie. You must enjoy lying a lot don’t you?”

You look away. You’re watching anything but him. “What do you want from me? I swear I don’t… I don’t know anything.” You’re trying your best to make this situation just deescalate.

He grinned amused. “Well that’s also a lie.” He said sitting down next to you on the bench as your heart was racing incredibly fast. Mark thought you might die on the spot if you keep stressing yourself out.

You took a little breath when he sat down next to you which seemed a little less nerve wrecking.

Eventually your heart calmed down when the silence overtook you both. Mark makes a quick glance over at you again, and he continues to speak when he waited for your nerves to sort themselves out.

You sigh. “I didn’t know you liked this place.” You tried to make a conversation as well but you weren’t sure how well he will respond to it.

Heck you don’t know this guy at all.

“I like it. I’m a regular here.” Mark said with a smirk and he moves a bit closer to you now, he opens up his plastic box of stir fry and starts to eat it with the plastic fork you’d get at a restaurant or other food trucks.

You saw him eating and you slowly shift to open your stir fry. But to be honest you’re too scared to even eat in front of him. You’re trying to act normal though. So you take a piece and ate slowly your own food along with Mark. The man kept watching you even though he ate. But you’re avoiding to even acknowledge him so much.

“Y/n do i scare you?” He was quite blunt and upfront. You flinched when he mentions the exact words you’re feeling.

You awkwardly chuckle and put down the fork. “Is it that obvious?”

Mark scoffs a bit. “You didn’t try to hide it.” He leans away and ate some more, you felt a bit less scared and now more guilty. Now that you think about it he seems like a normal guy now.

“Sorry. What Jaehyun said to me that night at the bar messed with my brain.” You admit it, which made the man next to you smirk. “You know I’m human as well. But I do admit it was fun seeing you trembling.” There was a sense of eeriness in his words but at the same time you were watching him.

He admitted to you that watching you embarrass yourself in front of him was a thrilling show but you decided to just not respond to it.

You didn’t even know what to say back anyways.

“So… are you actually…” your voice trails off unable to think of how to say this. How do you even phrase this?

Mark saw your expression like it was the most readable thing he has ever laid eyes on. He leans forward putting the plastic box down. “Part Tiger?” He spoke those words right out of your throat. You bite your inner cheek nodding.

“Is it true?” You asked with your eyes widen.

He grinned and stands up, putting hands in the front jean pockets he then turns around to you rather amused by your curiosity.

Has no one ever told you that curiosity killed the cat? You’re like a small, tiny cat who can’t keep their nose out of something that wasn’t their business.

It felt rather authentic for you though. Most people are just nosey but you seem to be curious because you want to discover something new.

And that is exactly what Mark likes about you. Your intentions are something he hasn’t seen before. Leaning forward he writes something on the paper and passed it to you, with the same hand you saw the large metal ring with the tiger engraved on it. Grabbing the piece of paper you look cautiously from the paper towards Mark’s dark gaze.

“When the sun sets meet me at my apartment, if you dare.” He said to you simply.

Just like a tiger he caught you by surprise with how sharp his tone of voice was full of silky seriousness. And then he disappeared into thin air as well. You only looked away for a second just for Mark to be gone in front of you.

Leaving you questioning if you should take the bait and go to his apartment even though that sounds like some kind of messed up plan.

For once you were dreading the sun setting. Getting out of your car you look back at the paper in your hand and then your eyes fall back on the complex building in the front.

The address that brought you to this place makes you both anxious and excited. You have many running thoughts on your journey going inside. Every single muscle contraction meant you were growing close and closer to danger.

Slipping your hand over the doorknob you didn’t even knock, the door opened up with the man revealing in front of you.

Mark heard you from a mile away. He knew you’d come and he was right when you stood in front of him with a stunned look.

You really do make him feel like he’s hunting you down.

“Come on in Y/n, I don’t bite.” Mark smirked seeing your hesitation as your eyes peek inside the apartment before your whole body walks in. Mark closed the door after you fully enter.

There was a lack of trust between you two but for some you are wanting to trust this man. You don’t know why but you know one thing for sure; he has bland furniture. All neutral colours and very modern in his apartment.

You tread carefully and put your purse bag down on the couch nearby as you stand in middle of his apartment. Your gaze follows where Mark was on the wall leaning one side of his shoulders on it, the muscular arms crossed together and the lower body curved towards the right side.

Breathing hitching you feel it becoming a round ball in your throat. “So Mark will you admit that what I know is true?”

You came for the truth only. But to Mark he wanted more from you than just to give you a simple truth. He wanted to take a taste of something much better than any truth could provide him or to you.

The body slips off the wall approaching you slowly while his gaze was rather intense and playful while watching you.

“I don’t think I can prove anything verbally to you.” Mark whispers gaining a closer look at your face and the natural scent of your body blending in with the morning coffee you drank as well as your floral perfume; creating this intoxicating sensation in the nasal passages. Mark could crawl to you just by the smell of your own skin.

Hands slowly moving to your waist pulling you closer by an inch your feet trotting forward in little steps towards his body. “But I can show you how a tiger has it’s fun?” He smirks brushing the hot breath escaping from his mouth down to your neckline, while his large eyes are watching you keenly to see your reaction for approval.

Goosebumps evoked on your skin when the tiniest touch of his fingers kneading on your waist bringing you closer to him made you fall into this trance; a trap in other words you’re not escaping a primal animal’s desire at all.

He lifts his head only a little, waiting for your lips to give him consent or a sign of any sorts. But you seemed to stunned and even timid.

The reasoning of you coming to his apartment wasn’t to sleep with him. But the idea of sleeping with someone as magnetic and attractive as him clouds your judgemental. You’re a smart woman you know that and even Mark knows it; you know your stuff. But you certainly look tempted by the invitation.

The only thing you could think about was how badly you want to kiss his lips in that moment. Swiftly you press your hands up to his jawline and pull him in with a sudden kiss when your decision was made finally. Your sudden lips and the taste of them lingering in the air stunned the tiger but you soon felt his hands clawing at your hips lifting you up with his arm muscles — bringing forward your body against a nearby wall as your mouths clashed like two boulders in action. Fighting for something you would like to say is survival; survival of the fittest.

Grunting at the smallest thing, Mark enjoyed hearing them a lot, even the clawing he did down your back and to cup your round ass made you grind up against his body in a friction. Your reactions were what made Mark’s instincts going up the roof. The inner animal was raging from just how much you do this to him. You look ethereal and vulnerable.

Your tongues are tied like a knot together constantly trying to go back and forth only to end up pushing and pulsing instead. Your hair was a mess from just the heated makeout with the man who did not show you a signal mercy.

Running your hands through his hair was probably the most difficult thing for him. Mark’s sensitive area was always his hair and head in general.

You wonder if it’s because tigers in general have sensitive ears; in fact all cats have that trait. It just made your mind run free whenever your fingers cross over his hair. He always lets out soft noises between the heavy parting kisses with your red feverous mouth.

Deciding that the wall won’t be enough for him or for you in that matter. Mark lifted you again this time turning only a small swift left to the bedroom the door opens enough to keep you in and throw you on top of his bed. Watching your body sink on the mattress wasn’t as satisfying as your arms pulling him on top with your lips connecting again for another passionate kiss.

Your voice sounds like music to his ears, Mark could never get tired of hearing your own heart racing and pounding against your chest either. It might be his favourite sound afterall this time.

“Fuck — Mark, hold on.” You adjust yourself on the bed when his hands slipped over your shirt unbuttoned it down along with your lowering clothing slipping it to your ankles. Mark did not know a single vocabulary word about slowing down. He was an animal. Animals don’t wait they just do whatever they want. Whenever it suits them. Your words were pointless to Mark.

He gave you a look when your hands press on his biceps. You needed a moment to calm your heart otherwise you would feel like this whole moment will not be savoured enough.

Leaning in he gave you a gentle peck instead on your lips. Mark tried to slow down to your liking. Holding himself back was hard when you look like this in your underwear and bra only. With your skin on skin contact too.

“Please.” You whisper. “You really don’t hold back.” You chuckled a little bit. Mark grinned softly at your reaction.

Humming he slowly took off his shirt. “Didn’t Jaehyun already tell you?” He sighs and your gaze looks up at Mark when he mentioned another name. “I don’t settle down for anyone.” Mark mumbles connecting back to your close body again when the shirt fell down on the bedroom floor.

He doesn’t settle for anyone so there is no reason for Mark to slow down for anyone. Mark goes fast for everyone and everything.

Your eyes are glued together as one. Your heart skips a beat when Mark was simply staring at you but it felt like he was chasing you across the jungle if anything.

Seeing your stare he had a feeling you might be thinking about your second options. Mark pressed forward to you.

“You still have the option to leave sweetheart, because I won’t give you this choice afterwards anymore.” He slants his fingers down your forearms and your eyes lift up staring into his own deadly irises.

You breathily sigh. “No I don’t want to leave.” You tell him with a determined look and you press your lips on the side of his neck kissing down to his defined collarbones.

Mark chuckled at your amusing response. You don’t want to run away yet you’re the one who told him to slow down?

“Alright. Don’t blame me for what’s about to happen next.” Mark’s voice was dark and low, everything that had been attracting you to him all along. You couldn’t wait until Mark kissed you again, you’re craving for more and more.

You don’t even know what you’re craving; is it the dangerous thrill? Or is it the fact that there was this biological element that keeps your hormones growing more complex.

Whatever it was your thoughts shatter down like a glass on the ground shredded to pieces creating a map of what you’d call your scattering thoughts. The heat forming underneath the pawing motions of the hands threading your body like a needle, grabbing your perky breasts. Hearing out your grasps and manhandling you into the mattress to a position of what his desires are. You’re nothing more than a rag doll. In this scenario you didn’t know what else to think. You were caving for more.

Escaping grasps when the rough grain fingers rub down to your revealing womanhood. His yellow-ish sharp eyes glow by the excessive amount of excitement. Your insides were much mild to his fingers. But they manage to heat your insides up so much faster. When he pumps them up and down your eyes were trying to squeeze shut.

Mark didn’t want to look away from your precious eyes when he was pumping his fingers inside your pussy walls. He wanted to watch you cry out. To him if you weren’t shouting to the top of your lungs then he did not do a good job. And Mark values his ego and pride of pleasuring women he takes to bed. You need to have a good time, your pleasure means so much more than his own.

And that’s the type of man Mark is. He focuses on you as much as he can. There was a sense of addiction towards you. Mark loved smelling your increasing scent on his bedsheets that you’re sprawled across looking like a desperate prey begging for mercy, but deep down you want so much more. With those aching teary eyes Mark knew you were close to a climax.

But did his hands stop? No. Mark didn’t care if you’re close to cumming. Mark will make you cum thrice if he wants too.

By the next few minutes you’re not sure what’s happened but your mind was fogging out between the lines. The bed sheets were leaking by your juices and Mark’s hand and your pussy were only an inch away from one another. His fingers were so deeply embedded inside of you it’s causing your voice to come out like a strain meld.

“Oh fuck… fuck… Mark I think I came already.” You said the obvious not knowing that was his intention all along. To make you release so much you’re starting to lose train of consciousness.

The tiger smirks fondly by your answer. Mark stretching your pussy out so much just so you can be able to fit him later on.

Pulling out his fingers out of your hole he licks them across his plum lips while gaze on your eyes. There was not much space between you two; your breathes are touching.

“You taste so sweet, Y/n.” Mark deems it. Pulling apart the boxers fell on the bedroom floor and he pulled your ankles down so your legs are spread round the hips.

You’re gawking at the sight of his thick glory shown towards your face. You’re not sure what else to say because your expression said it all.

Mark sultry chuckles watching you was seriously amusing. You don’t try to hide your expression with your widen little eyes. “What is it? Did i leave you speechless already?”

Though it sounds cocky. Which it probably was. Mark had a good reasoning to sound like a complete womanising douche.

He was thick. Thicker than anything you’ve seen before. You’re unsure what to say but you cannot argue with him either. He did leave you speechless. It was embarrassing for you.

Mark took your token of silence so he leans his face closer to give you a peck on your lips. He whispers down to your shoulders aligning his face with it. In a way this was to comfort you.

“Don’t worry Y/n. We aren’t finished just yet.” Breathily into your skin Mark buried the nose on the collarbone as the shape of Mark enters your pussy walls this time it was stretched with a slight burning angle that caused your whole body to tremble by itself. Holding on to the bedsheets underneath your body you feel like you’re floating by how just the tip touching at your velvety skin you’re reacting so much to it. This wasn’t usual. You’ve not experienced something like that before.

It’s nothing like the previous times you’ve slept with a guy before. It’s nothing like that.

In this case it feels like you’re fighting for your life but at the same time you’re submitting to yourself knowing Mark was the powerful one here. The one in charge of the moment. The variable that will never change is Mark. In a sick twisted way you like this. You like becoming the prey. The way you’re underneath Mark as he is thrusting you like a wild in-domestic beast, it’s what you’ve been craving all this time. The thrill of it.

For once you’ve forgotten all about biology. You’ve became it instead. Maybe you’re starting to finally understand how it feels to be stepped on by someone stronger than you. For once in your life that is.

Mark couldn’t get enough of you however. It’s the way your dark hair is floating like strands of ribbons on his bed sheets that smell of you now. He knew that once you are finished it is mostly likely to return to normal life. You’ll probably never hear from him. Or he might never hear from you on that matter — but those bed sheets will have your lingering smell and he doesn’t think he will change them for a while. You’re addictive. Strangely Mark has never been this compatible before with just anyone.

It’s crazy how a simple “come to my apartment” leads to you actually having sex later on. But you didn’t care how easy it seemed. You were enjoying it far too much to worry about the consequences. Mark was far too lost between the creeks of your neckline and the collarbones, his thinly pressed tongue sucks across your beautiful canvas. Your moans are starting to resemble poetry to his ears. As if you were all he wants to listen to on hours end.

The tiger felt every inch of your insides clenching with awe around his shape. It was the way you wrap around so easily. Your arms do the same thing. They wrap around his body and cling onto him forever. Mark wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your eyes only part ajar like a door does only to see yellowish sparkles of phenomenal beauty spreading across the bedroom. Widening at the sight you felt like you’re hallucinating. But when you’ve looked at the man above you thrusting you seen exactly a pair of two golden Iris’ staring down at you with nothing behind those eyes but lust.

It felt as if every muscle in his body extended to his original position when Mark grunts the bottom lip pierced to his fangs. “Oh yes, keeping looking at me like that. Such a pretty whore you are.”

Cheeks grows out in awe when Mark brushed over his fingers into your hair only to press you even more into the mattress digging his clock so deep in your insides you’ve lost knowledge of how far you could last. By now it’s been far too long. Your body’s overdrive is now overheating like a computer would — yet Mark shows no sign of slowing.

Even the way his voice stood still like the sea breeze. You’re at a loss of words.

Pulling at your hair slightly Mark decided to make you sit up a little so he could rearrange the speed of his thrusts to become quicker and sharper. Which only made you gasp audibly loud when you’re held in this position for so long. Your brain begins to fog once again.

Mark groans besides your shoulders, carving his teeth marks all over your body. You’re starting to look like a butchered meat eaten alive by him.

His eyes shift close. “Fuck… that’s it… now take it all Y/n.” You’re starting to see some slowing down when Mark unleashed the folds between your pussy walls. You’re starting to give up the moment Mark leaves you to the brim; looking full and plum like he wanted you in the state.

Eutrophic state of being overdriven by an animal, was all you’re able to process.

Breathing heavily into your skin you’re closing your eyes only a little, but everytime you do that you wanted to drift off to sleep. Eventually you’re wondering if you are asleep because all you see is black with a faded out voice I’m the background calling your name all over again.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

By the morning you’re awaken by your own fine reflection of how much your body actually endured last night.

Your lips part away staring at the front. Teeth marks scattering from top to bottom. You look like a whole different person compared to when you stepped a foot into this apartment.

Your eyes dart around the bedroom putting on your clothes that were left on the floor. You had to make yourself presentable at least once in your life because right now — you feel and look completely out of place. Brushing your hands into your hair messily brushing it out any knots. Then you open the bedroom door and step out. You’re met with a smell of eggs frying in a pan.

Following the scent you’re now approaching the shoulders of a man. Short sleeve tight shirt on flexing out muscles while wearing an apron. You’re filled with some form of happiness when you see that food is being cooked.

You mumble with a groaning stomach already. “Morning. What are you cooking?”

The man turned around with a little smirk seeing you’re already dressed and awake. Mark was expecting you to be knocked out a little longer. At first he thought you died on him last night. You’ve suddenly out of nowhere blanked out. But it turns out you were due in need of much sleep.

Mark pressed the eggs out of the pan and onto the plates. Your eyes following where his muscular arms extend out the plate towards you. You took a seat down on the chair by the kitchen aisle counter. He pressed a smile.

“Eggs and some toast. It’s the best I can do.” Mark announces.

You smiled and grabbed a fork. “It’s fine I’d eat anything anyone makes me.” You wish you could’ve shut your mouth when you said that though, because you maybe held your expectations high for Mark. He cannot cook eggs for the love of God.

The smile drops on your face instantly and you clear your voice a little when you’re sending a gaze back at Mark. You take a bite of the half burnt — nearly black at the bottom scrambled eggs. How do you burn eggs? You’ve got no possible human explanation for this sorcery.

For someone who is made to be a perfect stone with no hard edges; Mark can’t cook.

You might of found Mark’s first flaw.

You trail off mumbling. “Maybe I should cook next time?” Nonetheless you eat it all without a complaint. But you had to jokingly point o it out to Mark. You’re an honest woman. You couldn’t lie to him. It might feed his delusional ego.

Mark scoffs a little and chuckles at the end. “Good idea, Y/n. I can handle the other eggs.” You nearly choked on your chewing. But before you could say anything to him he was walking out of the kitchen area with that giddy smirk on his face as if he’s proud for saying something as outrageous as that.

“I’ll be in the shower!” Mark announces without a care that you’re probably as red as an apple.

You shake your head in disbelief and trail off a little laugh. You have a feeling this might weirdly be the most calming morning you’ve had. You go back to eating your scrambled egg wondering what else you will expect…

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you!! Reblog and Follow me for more smuts like this!!

#nct fanfiction #nct smut #nct x reader #nct u scenarios #nct hard hours #nct series #nct fic #nct recs #nct scenarios #nct dream smut #mark lee fluff #mark scenarios #mark lee scenarios #mark x reader #mark imagines #mark fanfic #nct mark smut #lee mark smut #mark hard thoughts #nct hard thoughts #mark hard hours #mark smut #nct u hard hours #nct u smut #nct dream hard hours #nct 127 hard hours #nct u fluff #nct fanfic #nct fic recs #nct masterlist

[christinebloodwrittings]

Something exactly like this.

Here we start a new series, at last I regained my love for writing n' reading 🥰

I have no idea how to write Hobie's accent, so apologies for that in advance. Any input and advise is well welcomed ☺️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Mention of blood, injuries, fighting, cursing, anxiety.

Words: 2022

Chapter one: What else you got?

"When will you ever grow up?! Going against our path, is going against the family!" My father yelled, speaking about his religion and how I refused to believe in his insanity while punching the table to accentuate his anger.

"Then maybe I was never really a part of this shit family!" A smack on the face, it came from across my step mother that had entered the conversation, "Never come back, insufferable brat" she spit at me.

I had had it with them, so I flipped them off and left with a duffle bag on my shoulder.

As soon as I arrived to the train station and took seat inside the train, my heart broke, tears streamed down my face, like a wild river I tried to hold back when I looked the disappointment in my father's eyes.

Let's start from the beginning, my name is Y/n L/n, and it's been two weeks since I moved to the big city. A friend got me a job on a coffee shop and a small flat near it, without her I would've slept on the streets probably, so I owe her a lot.

Every day is the same! It's going to drive me crazy. I make the minimum for attending crazy fucked up people! Every day is the same compalints, some about the damm prices, the ice cream flavors, the fact that not always we have cash to break a 20, bitch come on, who buys a two dollar coffee with 20 or 100 bucks?? Seriously, people are crazy, and they take it on me just because I'm on the counter almost all the time.

I'm fucking tired.

Then one night, I was doing inventory when Jess, on the subject that I owe her a lot, she practically begged me to accompany her to a very illegal show downtown, on a sketchy bar no less. "I don't know Jess, those shows aren't really my thing, neither is a lot of people on a confined space" you shrugged, "Come on Y/n, my boyfriend is playing the bass, but I don't wanna go alone, maybe I could even present you to a few people, so you have friends, other than me" I looked at her with a stern look, that was the least of my concerns.

"It's just...you look so lonely and sad all the time, maybe you could have some fun, ya' know, to loosen up the stress from work" before she could keep blabbering reasons to go, I caved. "Fine" she yelled a high pitched "Yay" and hugged me.

It's amazing how easy is to get killed in the city nowadays, my first couple of days working I got shocked with how many corpses I encountered as soon as I opened my apartment door, but then I got used to it? I don't throw up as much as before, so that's a start.

But everything is so messy right now, with V.E.N.O.M tasks forces roaming the streets, people instead of being scared, they've become violent. I have no idea how Jess can be so hyped about a show when there's like an 80% chance we'll get killed in the process.

But hey, YOLO right?

Since it was a punk event, she wanted me to "blend in", as to not dress as a total nerd like I always do according to her. So we stopped at her apartment to get ready.

She lend me a plaid mini skirt, mid thigh stockings, a learher jacket that ended mid torso, a dark red shirt with a weird spider logo, a spiky choker and did a very goth or punk-like work on my face.

I didn't recognized myself, but I didn't quite hated it either.

Black boots with chains completed the look according to her, "Ya' look stunnin', honey" she squealed, coming out of the bathroom ready herself, wearing all things similar to mine, with the addition of a oversized denim jacket filled with band related pins and patches.

"Your boyfriend's, I suppose" she turned back to me, blushed slightly, "He gifted this to me, he's so cool and corny, I love him so much".

I am jealous of her. Her boyfriend has stopped by work a few times, he's tough but nice and very likeable. I could tell he would go to hell and back for her.

I was so fucking jealous of that.

The place wasn't really far from my apartment, which would allow me to slip away in case I needed it, oh boy, not even two seconds inside and I already wanted to run away.

It was a mess of all kinds of black dressed people, like the pride parade but goth, punk and violently weird. Jess seemed to be fine around the mess, she was a natural, totally in her element.

There was this feeling climbing up my spine, weakening my knees and my lungs, anxiety making her debut.

"C'mon let's get to the front before they start playin', otherwise we won't be able to see shit!" She pulled me across the sea of leather and spikes, I sensed a lot of stares and wolf whistles, probably not for me, but it felt so alien to me.

The group made its introduction, the crowd wildly started screaming and jumping, shoving us against the fence that kept us away from the stage. The amps to the limit, and the people jumping and shoving, everything begun to spin, in a haze I believed myself to be drunk but totally sober, "Jess! I wanna leave" I tried to scream but she couldn't hear me. Couldn't move either, trapped in between the fence I could only close my eyes in hopes the pain in my ears and my chest would end soon.

A hand took mine, out of a sudden I was on the other side of the fence. Due to the momentum I clashed against a bunch of pins and chains, "Follow me" He said, not ever letting my hand go, he lead me backstage, where the sound of the still going music and cheering was a bit muffled, barely bearable.

"Better?" I looked up to him, he had a wild black mane, piercings on his brows and his lower lip, stunning factions and he was built amazingly. "Yeah, sorry about the trouble" he chuckled at my embarrassment, "S' nothin', stay here all you need" he winked and rushed back to the stage, the screaming intensified as soon as he did.

A while later, Jess got to the backstage by the arm of her boyfriend, "Oh, honey I'm so sorry, are you feeling okay now?" I shook my head, hugging myself in absolute embarrassment. "'m gonna head back, sorry" she held me as soon as I was about to leave, "First, your knight in denim armor, Hobie I can't thank you enough" she thank him.

So that was his name, Hobie.

"No problem, that was a bad edge" his accent was so thick that's all I got to hear him say. "Hobie we need to scram, they are on their way, get the explosives" said none other than Jess's boyfriend, "Another raid? But babe" she whined, not caring about the sudden violence about to be unleashed apparently.

"Jess we need to leave, now!" I tried to take her away, but she resisted and shoved my hand away from hers, "I'm actually gonna stay for this one, Spider-Man might actually appear this time" She excitedly left with her boyfriend.

How could she just left when there was going to be another raid outside?! "Why today, I knew I shouldn't have come to this stupid thing!" Searching routes, but nothing came to mind, the sound of the tasks forces was loud, and the one from the rebellion was even more so.

Everything went down because of Oscorp taking over, then Spider-Man showed up to shake up the masses into a furious rebellion, it bothered me tat the rebels acted as if the destruction, the purchase of weapons from gangsters, and the eternal bustle, would change the fact that V.E.N.O.M had almost completely taken over the streets. The rebellion regained territory in the last assault, but in that hell several young people died, and not even Spider-Man could do anything about it.

Usually I don't get into that shit, because for fun I rather go dancing at the club, though I admit I threw a Molotov at a task forces's car, once the opportunity presented itself.

When I got out, everything was smoke, explosions, people running, crying and shouting with hate. The alley that led to the passage where I would hopefully make it to my apartment was across the fire. I plucked up my courage and ran, a little difficult because of the platforms on my shoes, the damn mini skirt, and because of the shooting that started when I managed to jump over the puddle of burning gasoline.

I fell and hit all the cement on my legs and arms, I got up quickly because the adrenaline was stronger than the bullet that grazed my knee, so I managed to take refuge in the back of the building.

"Where you think you goin' bitch" A cop grabbed my arm, seeing that I resisted him the baton on his other hand hit the back of my knees and then I had no other choice but to fall, the cut on my knee bleeding even more, but I couldn't feel it yet.

He rises the baton to hit me again, but it got swooped off his hand, in about a second that same cop was literally mummified to the wall, all covered in spider webs.

"You okay?" Red and blue suit, spikes on the head of the mask, denim jacket and boots, yeah a hero alright. "Peachy" He just saved me, but the bitterness from my friend bailing on me, the recent anxiety attack, the raid, the pulsing wound that I made the mistake of acknowledge, and the posible bruise from the baton, got to me pretty fast.

"Go save the others, I'm fine" he didn't moved, instead he stretched his hand towards me, "Let me take you some'ere safe first" normally I would've sent him to hell itself, but taking everything into consideration, I ended up agreeing.

As soon as I took his hand, he pulled me up and into his arms. He secured my waist with his arm, "By the green building is alright" he nodded then fired his web, without warning he took flight, taking an even firmer grasp on my waist.

Meanwhile I hid my face on his neck and yelled a bit.

As soon as we landed I shoved myself off of his grasp, clinging to the fire stairs railing for dear life, "Bit nauseous there love?" He joked, "A warning would've been appreciated" I swallowed the bit of puke that threatened the back of my throat, "But thanks, I'll take it form here".

My knees quivered when trying to make a decent step, the pulsing hurt behind my legs, "Ya' sure?" He asked, getting at a safe distance from my pathetic state, "Yeah, now aren't you needed elsewhere?" He slightly laughed at my embarrassment, "That can wait, they were holding it up, a'right" I could hear his smile under that mask.

"Need help there, love?" He offered, making it sound more like a tease, his hand reaching towards me once more, "I'll be careful" He promised. I caved again, after all, I lived in the eighth floor.

"Now we're good, night spiderman" I tried to close the door but he stopped it with his combat boots, "What" he stayed silent for a second, "Not even a kiss?" He joked? I couldn't tell because of the mask, then he just leaned on the doorframe. I genuinely laughed, like I haven't in a while, "Thanks for the laugh, maybe next time you save me, I'll give you that kiss, how's that?" He tilted his head a bit, like thinking, then just nodded.

I think he was about to say something, but an explosion on the raid site got to his attention, "I think you're needed" When I turned my head around he had already left.

#hobie x y/n #hobie brown #hobie x you #hobie brown x you #hobie x reader #hobie brown smut #spiderman #spider man: across the spider verse #spider punk

[maaarshieee]

OKAY SO I SLEPT ON THIS IDEA AND I LOVE IT EVEN MORE SO IM GONNA THROW IT AT U AND U CAN DECIDE AS WELL

so mr dottore wears gloves obviously. just like literally most of the genshin characters. but what if this;

the reader has been w him for a while, but he’s very adamant on not showing his hands to u. so u decide to ask him about it and basically he trues to brush it off, only to tell u about an accident he had during the akademiya that left his hands scarred and just not good looking.

how the reader takes that info is up to u 🤭 i just love the idea of little things w dottore that make him vulnerable to his partner, whether he believes it does or not

- dottore stan (srry if this was long i typed quite a bit 😭)

⎯⎯ ୨ 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐬 ୧ ⎯⎯

➢ Iʟ Dᴏᴛᴛᴏʀᴇ x Gɴ!Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➢ 1.6k ᴡᴏʀᴅs ┊ Fʟᴜғғ

➢ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

a/n - DOTTORE ANON I LITERALLY HAD THE SAME IDEA IN MY DRAFTS BUT YOURS MAKES MUCH MORE SENSE THAN HIS MASK,,, cuz scars on his face are not canon but hands??? yes yes yesyesy ily/p, ALSO I DONT MIND IF YOU SEND A LONG MESSAGE! I LOVE READING DETAILED REQUESTS <3 titled "scars", have a good day/night! (i aspire to be the home of soft dottores)

↬ cw: established long-term relationship with reader, mentions of experiments, canon typical violence, usage of 'zandik' for dottore's real name, non canon scars i just had a brainrot at the scars part

You never knew the reason why Dottore had started wearing gloves back then.

While you were away in a different region for a thesis project, as well as a couple errands to complete for Zandik, when you were both back at Sumeru Akademiya, an accident occurred relating to his experiments and his hands.

You never really understood why he hid them from you, but other segments he's made also refused to remove their gloves unless they were created before the accident. Even in bed, on occasions he'd lay with you, he'd have them on. You've never complained though since you liked the feeling of his gloved hands on your skin.

But still, can he fault you for your ever-growing curiosity over your lover? It has been years and he's yet to reveal what was underneath those smooth cloth that hid the scars, you assumed, within.

"Is it really that bad?" You asked one day, exasperated as you watched him write on his whiteboard, completely focused, but also listening to your words. He'd never dare to miss anything you'd say to him. Dottore only threw you a glance, before proceeding to write equations you could barely comprehend. "What are you addressing?"

You gesture at his hands, to which he paused with a small frown tugging on his lips. "I mean, it's been so long since I've seen your hands, Dottore." You stated, curiously eyeing his gloves and taking a step closer to him. "I never knew what happened to them as well, but you don't really have to tell me, I just..." You faltered when he capped the marker he held and hid his hands behind his back, letting out an unamused scoff.

"Is this really necessary?" How stubborn you are, you've never learnt to give up on things that piqued your never-ending interest in the unknown. He marvels at that unchangeable trait of yours, but unfortunately, the only secret he's ever held from you was included.

"No," You admitted, but you were unbothered by his dismissive nature, having grown used to it when the topic relates to his hands. "I am merely curious and quite concerned as to why my lover is ashamed of revealing his hands to me." Each word you've greatly emphasized stabbed through him with annoyance, especially when you've assumed he's ashamed of such trivial matters.

Him? Ashamed? He's done so many things to others that you were aware of and yet you say he's ashamed of his hands all because of his scars? And not because it is the hands of a sinner? Honestly, you're one thing that Dottore fails to decipher.

A scowl formed on his lips, revealing his sharp teeth as he clenched his hands into fists behind his back. "Dear, I must ask you to kindly put an end to spouting nonsense." He hissed through his teeth, glaring threateningly at you. But you knew that glare and the hard tone in his voice weren't genuine. Whenever he expressed anger towards you, they always meant something else. Defensive, if you will.

At this point, the other segments had to pause from whatever they were doing, listening to the words they exchange and observing what would happen. "I see them often tremble when you need to remove them when I'm around, you know?" You stated, his lips now a thin line, which made you regret ever mentioning that to him. "I- well, granted I've never seen them whenever you do, but I notice things, okay?"

You raised your arms and sighed in defeat, taking a step back from Dottore. Well, it has been years. Curiosity will forever haunt you like an irremovable itch but you'll refrain from ever mentioning it if it always riles him up like this. It was time for you to give up. What you didn't catch sight of was the way Dottore tensed when he heard you sigh, a frown evident on your features.

"My apologies, love. See to it in the future that I'll cease ever mentioning your gloves, or your hands, I wish to not further upset you."

It seemed to subdue the growing frustration he's had with the topic for many years now, satisfied with your words. "Very well, then." He didn't say it, but you understood that he wanted to say his thanks to you, a small smile on your lips. And with that, you took your leave for your other duties as part of the Fatui and Dottore went back to continuing on with his projects. You thought that would be the end of it since he's oddly secretive about it.

Until one day, he decided to open up to you out of the blue.

It wasn't often that Dottore— not a segment, would join you in your shared private chambers and shed himself from his thick layers of clothing, leaving himself in his dress shirt, pants, and gloves. It was... certainly odd for Dottore to be this affectionate, especially when he allowed you to wrap yourself with his coat, which he always used in Zapolyarny Palace or his laboratory and would snatch it from you when he spots you wearing it.

Dottore almost turned his heels and left you by yourself once again when you kept staring at him with wide eyes, lips parted in shock whilst you buried yourself deeper into his coat. "Quit staring." He seethes with a scowl and you broke into the biggest grin he's seen for a while, finally seating himself next to you. "Come," Without hesitation, you immediately flung yourself toward him and wrapped your arms around him, pulling him close as you place yourself in between his legs.

"Now now," You started, a pleased sigh escaping your lips when you felt his arms wrap around you as well, fingers tracing the structure of the bones on your back, trailing up your spine and to your nape, "This is quite the surprise, it's only been..." You hummed in thought, cheek pressed against his chest, "A few weeks since you've given me so much love and affection."

Dottore could hear the tease in the tone of your voice, and yet, perhaps just for tonight, when he chose to be a tad more vulnerable towards you? "Would you prefer if I was more affectionate, then?" And you stumbled in your words, giving him an incredulous look, hands now cupping his exposed cheeks. "Oh my, d-did you hit your head? Did something happen!?"

He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at your exaggerated reaction and pushed your hands away, instead leading your hand to the end of his gloves, encouraging you to take them off. Now you were completely at a loss for words, sitting up and eyeing his masked face, scanning for any reactions that could give away anything to what he feels at the moment.

But you caught no signs of any usual emotions you see he wears on his face on a daily basis. Irritation, uninterest, anger, or any of the sorts. And you've always been graced by his sincerity only for you, but somehow, this felt a little different.

"If you're not opposed to it..." Your eyes went back to his gloves, a little nervous, "Then, shall I?" This time, he couldn't help it. "Just get on with it." He sighed and rolled his eyes, which earned a snort from you, finally feeling more at ease at this much more familiar behavior, and slowly pulled off his gloves.

You observed the scars on his hands— from the tips of his fingers down to his wrist, they faded to a deep shade of turquoise, and scars scattered all across his hands and arms, similar to what they call; "Lichtenberg scars?" You quired, fingertips tracing the patterns splayed on his skin, fascinated. "Just what happened in your old lab that caused such marks? And the coloring— what the hell?"

Dottore would never admit this to you, but he felt his heart still the more you spoke, anticipating unpleasantry from your lips though Dottore found it odd that he never felt this way until you've finally seen them (no, he has, he was merely in denial).

But of course, since when have you spoken badly of him? With the same adoring smile, you always wore, your eyes sparkled in wonder open further observation. "These patterns are rather lovely, in my opinion. Compliments the dark colors of... well, wherever these hues of blue came from." He had unknowingly let out a breath of relief, lacing his fingers with yours, a small scowl once again etched on his lips.

"Don't speak of them as if they were for design." He warned, though, despite his hard tone, his touch was completely different. Soft, warm, and contained gentleness you've never thought he'd have in him. "Have you forgotten I acquired them through an accident?"

"Then, do they still hurt?" You simply asked, eyes gazing upon his masked face, head slightly tilted to the side. Dottore was about to deny it but instead shook his head. "Occasionally, yes. Though you needn't worry since I can barely feel them."

He paused when you leaned down, lips attached to the scars littered on his hands. Baffled, he almost pulled his hands away from you but refrained to do so. Not when your lips feel so divine on his aching skin. "I... what are you...?" It wasn't often he'd falter.

"No one's ever kissed them," You answered, eyes filled with mirth once you saw you'd taken him off guard, small giggles bubbling from your chest. "I'll take any opportunity I get but I can stop if you do not like it—"

"Continue," Dottore said quickly, startling you but you let out a soft laugh, shaking your head at his antics, and peppered his skin with kisses, while his other hand caressed your cheek lovingly, a slight upward curve at the corners of his lips.

"Does this mean I'm allowed to see more of your uncovered hands, darling?" You pushed your luck, and it seems he's rather giving tonight, making your heart race.

"Perhaps, if you hadn't annoyed me before you asked."

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Taglist: @anniejourn, @dilucssiliconedildo, @achlysyo, @sunoo-bby, @iyagato, @randomidk-123, @kujobug, @louise-rosita-leroux, @eliciana, @gattahaveit1

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

#yaepublishinghouse #dottore x reader #il dottore x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #:;marshie.writes #:;requested #:;drabble #:;il.dottore #:;dottore.stan.anon

[mybworlds]

Chapter 1

Pairing: Javier Peña x F!Reader (no use of Y/N)

Summary: Javier Peña and his partner can't stand each other, but to take down an old enemy they are forced to work together and pretend to be a complacent married couple.

Series warnings: language , violence, alcohol use, slow burn, angst, mutual pining, smut (18+ MDNI), creampie, oral sex (m and f), fingering, masturbation (m and f), trauma and SA referencing.

Masterlist

Before to start… so here we are… I am very excited and nervous to write about this story 'cause I really care 'bout it. 🙏 I'm not an expert on these spy agencies, so if I got something wrong, don't get angry or offended. 😬 And maybe some aspects of Peña's character may change, if it's necessary. I don’t know how many chapters the story will have. If you want to follow my new fanfiction, I appreciate it 🙏

Thanks @vase-of-lilies for the banner

If there's one thing you really can't stand it's Monday mornings, not finding coffee on your desk in the office, not being able to catch a criminal after a long investigation that has taken you so much time and energy, you are in the office and you persistently look at the documentation related to Alvaro Monteiro, also known as 'El Diablo,' a drug dealer known in South America but also in half of the European countries, now also infamous for exploitation of prostitution and organ trafficking in countries like Mexico and Argentina.

You shake your head trying to bring order to the few testimonies about his movements, sightings, and the last deals he conducted; those who could really talk are afraid for their relatives and their own lives; those who talk more are found with a bullet in their head somewhere.

You hold your head in your hands watching the faces of all the young women, men and even children caught up in this so far endless trail of blood and death. You don't know when you will arrest Monteiro, but you know one thing for sure, you will not let up until you catch him. They wouldn't call you Bulldog like that.

Everyone whispers this nickname of yours because of your determination at work and then because, if you start pursuing a case, it becomes your priority even over your own life. None of your colleagues, however, has ever dared to openly call you that. With the exception of your insufferable colleague Javier Peña.

Speaking of him, he's a huge pain in the ass, a huge Don Juan who is convinced he can have everyone at his feet with that grin and his dark eyes always ready to look seductively at anyone who comes his way. He even hit on you once, but you told him everything you thought about him, about his absurd ways of getting information about investigations, about how he slept with half the office and all of them, even though they had been dumped by him, kept kissing the ground he walked on!

That's crazy.

By the way, here he comes into the office, agent Peña, hair perfectly coiffed, glasses on his nose, winking smile, and everyone looking at him dreamily, you roll your eyes and shake your head to go back to looking at the Monteiro dossier.

"Good mornin'." he greets you in a detached tone.

By the way, you and Peña can't stand each other. Not because you stood him up, or maybe even because of that, but because both of you were engaged on the Monteiro case a couple of years earlier. You each had your own method of investigation, as you do now for that matter, and you ended up pointing a gun at each other losing your target and then blaming each other in front of your boss. Your boss removed you from the case.

From that moment on, Peña treats you frostily, if he has to spite you he does, if he has to tell you a nasty thing he tells you, he doesn't think twice about it, if he has any news he keeps it to himself and reports it to your superior making you look like an amateur always bent over papers and little in action.

"Good mornin', Agent Peña," you greet him in the same tone.

Within a year of being removed from the case, however, Peña continued to keep his female informants - mostly prostitutes - on the alert about all that might be his movements, you for your part have always kept an eye on money movements and possible strange transfers from American to Mexican banks and vice versa, all of which led your boss to reassign both of you the case, making you promise to cooperate and share any information that either of you might obtain. Collaboration that has not happened so far, however, not entirely, at least.

Peña lays his palms on the documentation you were sifting through forcing you to look up at him, looking at you insistently with his huge dark eyes with the expression of someone who is studying someone intensely.

You sigh, "What do you want?" you ask him.

"Just to inform you," he replies.

You lean your back against the chair and raise your eyebrows as if to invite him to continue, you cross your arms "That would be news!" you exclaim in an icy tone "I'm all ears."

"Monteiro has been spotted in Paloma Beach, France."

You widen your eyes, spreading your lips wide, he smiles in that annoyed grin.

"Peña. Speak up. Now." you tell him, looking him straight in the eye.

He leans against the desk "I'm glad to have your attention," he says crossing his arms in a satisfied expression of someone who got to a race first "I thought you were too focused on staring at the paper…"

"Peña, you have my attention and if you don't talk right now I'm going to kick your ass and throw you out of my office!" you threaten him in an icy tone "So?"

He sighs, "Always in a good mood, I see!"

"Always a stupid and misplaced sarcasm," you retort using the same tone.

"Whatever," he says showing a green folder in his hands "Monteiro has been spotted in France, in Saint - Jean - Cap - Ferrat." he's telling you, because you're too eager to read news about the narco-trafficker, you get up from your chair and make to pull the clipboard away from him, but he's faster than you and pulls it away from your reach. You almost end up against him, you're within an arm's length of his angular nose and those dark pools, you both immediately retreat. He clears his throat and then resumes, "I was saying, Monteiro has been spotted there and according to this informant of mine he will be there for the next few summer months."

"When would the informant have told you these things?" you ask him raising an eyebrow.

"Does it matter?" he asks you raising an eyebrow as well.

No, not really considering how she must have gotten this information. You don't want to hear him say it, you are bothered by this display of how able he's to get his informants to talk and get comfortable and then get them to confess what he wants to know. No, thank you.

"Have you told Diáz yet?" you ask him, furrowing your brow.

"Claro." he answers you raising his eyebrows with a satisfied air.

"Cabrón." you answer him curtly.

You don't speak Spanish, but obviously living in those parts of South America you had to learn and especially you had to learn how to respond in tone to Peña's exclamations who likes to retort punctually in Spanish. In the early days he was doing it on purpose to retort in Spanish having realized you didn't understand Spanish and who knows how many he must have said to you and you didn't even understand them, but from the moment you started studying Spanish, you started responding in tone leaving him surprised in the early days, then it became a habit of yours to retort on each other with Spanish barbs.

"Muy bien, shall we go?" he asks you.

"Where?"

"Diáz of course! Did you have your coffee this morning, agent?" he asks as he gets up from your desk and adjusts his dark pants.

"And did you ever go to sleep?" you ask him making to head for the door. He does before you, however, and opens the door for you, then makes a hand gesture at which you roll your eyes and snort.

"Let it not be said that agent Peña is not a gentleman!" he exclaims.

"You're supposed to be a gentleman with all the poor girls you screw and then quit!" you exclaim. You just can't stand it, you can't help it.

Diáz is your boss, a man of about fifty, sturdy build, graying hair, big eyes with thick lenses on his nose, he wants everything to work perfectly in his department.

"Sir." you say as you enter his office.

"Sir." Peña greets as he enters the office closing the door "You wanted to see us?"

"Yes, thank you for coming, agents. I know you are both involved in the Monteiro case and as we know Monteiro has now become a world class criminal. I am in contact with departments in other countries and it's been confirmed that he is in France." he pauses "Do you speak French?"

You wrinkle your forehead, "Sir?"

"I need two agents - you -" he says pointing at both of you "to go there in the field in Saint - Jean - Cap - Ferrat to investigate undercover."

"Sir, with all due respect," you continue "but this is perhaps a CIA job-- we-- we are just DEA agents." you state externalizing your concern "We don't have the proper training to…"

"Agent," Diáz resumes, "I understand your fear, but the Monteiro case has become important to all of us. Monteiro could be in France today, the day after he disappeared from circulation again, it's too important for us to catch him."

You watch Peña in the hope of getting his support, but you see him thoughtfully "They will find out right away that we are agents, they might-" you are about to say they might kill you right away or torture you to figure out what you know and then kill you, but it's Peña who interrupts your stream of thought "When are we going to get him?"

Diáz smiles, "Have a seat, now I will explain everything."

Diáz explains to you in hand that you will not be completely alone, there will be CIA men who will be ready to intervene if you deem it necessary. He also explains to you that you will change your names, you will be Blanca Torres and Peña will be Diego Torres, and the role you will have to play. Diáz explains to you you will be two newlyweds on honeymoon ready to enjoy the sea, the sun, but your true goal will be to approach Monteiro and try to understand his plans and catch him.

"Todo claro? " asks your superior.

"Si." replies Peña.

"Está bien, aquí están sus pasaportes. Nadie te hará preguntas en el aeropuerto, pero sé discreto." continues Diáz in Spanish.

"¿Cuándo nos iremos?" you ask him not at all enthusiastically.

"In two days, just enough time to get the final paperwork in order. Needless to say, be discreet, don't ask too many questions around and play smart." he tells you again "Remember your roles and you won't fail." he adds taking your leave.

When Peña closes the office door behind him, you throw yourself into your chair with a despondent air "What do we do now?"

"What do you mean?" he asks you crossing his arms and furrowing his brow.

"Peña, you and I can't stand each other and now we have to pretend to be husband and wife, I don't know if you got that!" you exclaim nervously.

"Sure, Blanca. Or would you prefer, amor?" he asks smiling at you with that slapping face of him.

You roll your eyes; you don't know how you're going to stand him! You hope to catch Monteiro in a few days and put an end to that charade as soon as possible.

Taglist: @love-affair-with-fandoms; @pedr0swh0r3; @angel98624 if you want to be added let me know, if you liked this first part, leave a comment, like or reblog, if you didn't like it, it's okay, be kind and move on 🙂

#javier peña #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #javier pena x you #javier pena smut #narcos fanfiction #javier x reader #narcos ff #narcos fic #soft! javier pena #dom!javier pena #smut #javier pena fic #javier pena

[wolfiemcwolferson]

hello logan!! i have compe to prompt your wonderful brain into being nice again.

imagine photographer pierre putting together a set of his favorite pictures from the year and suddenly realizing that they're all of charles/related to charles. "uh oh, maybe i AM in love with my best friend" realization ensues

Oh, this made my brain go zoom.

The first year he had put together the series, it had been for his maman. She is the one who bought him that camera and he wanted to give her something physical to see that Pierre was indeed serious about this very serious investment.

In uni, it became a very logical way for him to look at his growth over the last year - to see what he had dabbled in and what was successful, what was not. It was a way to encourage him to continue to learn and grow and do better.

But, once he started working with Charles, it was really just for himself. Sure, he posted the series on his social media's and the engagement was off the charts for him, but he was sometimes moving so fast - sometimes it felt like he never put his camera down.

It was GP to GP, but in between there were sponsor shoots and private plane rides and intimate moments that Pierre wanted to keep somewhere because someday Charles would have books and documentaries and monuments dedicated to him, and that is what Pierre was here for - to document his life and these moments.

And he liked to look through them and be out of the camera for a bit.

This year he leaves it until the last minute, sorting photos from his childhood bedroom in the middle of the night, queueing them up so he can post them tomorrow.

One of Charles in his driver's room, head tilted to the side, eyes closed. It's more...intimate than any of the photos that Pierre had released to Ferrari or given to Charles to post from that weekend, but it's Pierre's favorite. The calm for him before the insanity of the weekend that would follow.

One of a discarded racing glove draped over Charles' red cell phone, half a cup of espresso next to it and a scribbled note that reads leave it all on the track.

Charles standing on a rock in the desert, face tipped up to sun, arms outstretched, looking more content than Pierre had ever seen him.

A blurred shot of Charles on a bicycle as he rides around the track in Britain - wearing that red Ferrari shirt - always red, always in red.

Charles leaning against the balcony of a hotel room in Italy, sweater rumpled and half tucked in the back of his pants because he has just woken up from a nap.

Charles in swim trunks on the yacht, Charles holding up a new bracelet from a sponsor and grinning not at the camera, but at Pierre behind the camera.

Charles.

Charles.

It's all Charles.

Charles at his best - standing on a podium, holding a trophy.

Charles at his lowest - sitting alone in the back of the plane flying out of Miami, hand wrapped up with an ice pack on the back and the next photos of the bruise blooming there being slipped into another pair of racing gloves.

Charles reaching for the camera, Charles rolling his eyes, Charles. Charles. Charles.

Pierre is meant to be putting together 10 photos to wrap up his year - 10 of his best photos.

But, the only thing he can do is stare at the screen and understand that this goes beyond photographing Charles.

The last photo before his family photos start is of Charles, curled up on his side, asleep.

Pierre had taken it on the couch - the night he slept over at Charles' place in Monaco. The light from the television has bathed him in a blue light and Pierre had remembered thinking how...beautiful he looked and so he had pulled his camera out, taken the photo before he had shaken him awake to go to bed.

Pierre looks at the way he framed the shot - how Charles' hand is in the corner of the shot and...

He takes these photos of Charles - photos of him sleeping and eating and driving and training and Pierre may have fallen in love with photography when he was a boy, but it was also the best way he knew how to show his love and...he should have seen it sooner.

He wasn't just documenting Charles' life, he was also showing his love to him the best way he knew how.

#piarles #the oh shit moment when you realize you're in love with your f1 driver best friend

[white-poppie]

Skyfall

Synopsis: Illumi and Chrollo seeing their s/o become hollow for the art they cherished all due to overworking themselves. Type: Drabble/Reaction (Requested) Genre: hurt/comfort Song rec: Skyfall (Adele) TW: fear of losing, slight mentions of depression, anxiety, crying, dizziness, insomnia, skipping meals, big sed :(

A/N: I have always been more of an artsy kid than sports; I was first in every school competition involving art, dance, and calligraphy etc, (still am very competitive bro fite me 😤) so I relate very much, thank you for the request and sorry for changing it a little.

Chrollo: (piano)

Trembling fingers that thrummed, against the white and black keys; the sound cascaded down like a river rapid. Your head swayed as your arms moved, the sound that felt mellifluous to the beholder was cacophonic in your ears making you clench your teeth and blink back the vexatious tears that fell on the bay today.

Chrollo leaned upon the doorframe of your room, his brows downturned in concern, as much as he hated interrupting he had to, "you have been playing for a while now, take a break."

You huffed and turned back to your notes sheet, squinting at the blurry letters until it was snatched away from your sight. You groaned and looked at Chrollo annoyedly.

“Come on you really expect me to just leet you be when you haven’t slept or eaten properly in days?” He says while keeping a hand on your shoulder

You look down in shame, both at your incompetence and the fact that you have neglected your boyfriend for so long, “it’s a huge recital,” you murmured, "all eyes would be on me, I can’t mess this up and make a fool of myself.”

Chrollo sighs and grabs you by your shoulder, "look at me me, y/n.”

You hesitantly peer into his azure eyes. An attractive, lop-sided grin etches upon his face that causes heat to rush to the tip of your ears.

“There you go,” he smiles, “now listen, you know how humans require at least eight hours of sleep to function properly?” You nod.

“And you haven’t rested all in so long, I am not telling you to stop practising, take a break your body and mind needs, then only can you perform well.”

You bite your tongue and stare at your calloused fingertips, "I keep messing this up, I don't know anymore, I am so tired."

Chrollo grabs your tender hands and brings them close to his lips, placing warm kisses on your fingers that make you giggle in glee.

"Let's order takeout and take a nap and then work on your performance, alright?." You nod, looking at how he is still cradling your hands.

"Give them and yourself some rest baby."

Illumi (art)

Brushes and colours were scattered haphazardly in your workplace, a terrain moulded by dried-up paints encrusted your palette as you kept on lathering the acrylics. The grip on your brush was frighteningly tight, and the heaviness with which you lifted your pencils now fell on your eyes too; half-lidded and blown in a way that no high could ever fathom, it was catharsis, masochistic and utterly tormenting.

You hadn't noticed Illumi staring at your work, probably because he was stealthy like a cat, but his porcelain face cracked a smile whenever he saw you engrossed in your work, but now he was worried.

Your drive towards art has always been an enigma. From the moment he first saw you as a teenager with pen doodles all over your arms, to when your love for art blossomed into an almost self-destructive endeavour.

"Y/N," he says and you look up, the whites of your eyes are bloodshot; searching for a magnum opus on canvases upon canvases that gathered in your room. They were magnificent, but you had been beating yourself up over sullen dreams.

Illumi closed his eyes for a second and picked up the easel and dragged it away from your sight along with the scattered supplies into the living room, despite your protests.

When he came back, your red eyes were now pearlescent with tears. Knees folded to your chest, Illumi carefully sat next to you.

He wraps a blanket around you and picks you up with ease and has you seated on his lap, "rest for a while and then we will figure things out." You nod and rest your head on his toned chest.

"We are in this together, Y/N."

🏷 Tags: @denkis111, @jazzylove, @lordmypantsaresocool, @futuristicallykawaiiturtle, @kristaline2dmensimp,@rintaroubby @nanaseishiro @innerpurple, @cleaningfairylevi, @webawee

⤷‧₊˚ Hunter x Hunter (ハンタ x ハンタ)

🥀 BYI/DNI ♡⌇ Request Rules 𓏸 🗝️ ₊﹒《 Join my Taglist •

#૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა Dark content #💌Hunter x Hunter #[🪐] requested #hxh #chrollo #illumi #hxh chrollo #chrollo x y/n #chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo #hxh angst #hxh comfort #illumi x y/n #illumi hxh #illumi zoldyck #chrollo smut #illumi smut #white poppie🌼 #hxh illumi #illumi fluff #illumi comfort #illumi angst #chrollo comfort #chrollo angst #chrollo stan #hxh fanfic #hisoka hxh #hxh smut #kurapika #killua

[heliosthegriffin]

Shadow Knight and Magic Girls XIV

AO3 Link

Chapter 14

-----

Jaune really wanted to close his eyes. They feel so heavy, like someone had tied anvils to his eyelids. He couldn't take a nap though, not where he could be watched. Uncle-, Big Bear would hear about it.

He had to be a representative of the Xiongs.

He looked down at his test. Jaune hadn't even wrote his name down. What class period was he even in, had he had lunch yet? No. So, it had to be before lunch...

Maybe, he should look at the questions? ... Still no clue. He got up, getting attention from across the room. "Mr. Arc?"

"Just stretching."

"Can it wait until after the test?"

"No."

The teacher gave a frail smile. "Well, I'd much appreciate it if-"

Jaune leaned back, a series of bullet-loud pops echoing across the room. Several students flinched, looking up from the test for the source of the test, others covering they're ears at the sudden noise, and a couple nodded they're head finding the sound oddly pleasing.

"Nevermind." The teacher sat down, and so did Jaune. He started to remember what class he was in. Something something science. Usually he slept through it.

He looked at the questions again. It was asking about chemical change, was he is chemistry?

It was dumbly worded though, bland enough he wish had some salt to put on it.

Still, he knew the answer to this one strangely enough, he had done a lot of experimenting in his early days of monster-fighting, so he knew a bit about chemical change.

It was asking for a example, and he wrote gunpowder, explaining how when a spark hit it, it created a chemical reaction that made a small explosion and smoke.

Jaune nodded to himself.

Reading the rest of the questions, he realize that all of them he sorta of knew the answer too, especially since they all related, to one degree or another, to his experiments.

Once figured out, Jaune handed over his test to the teacher, who took it, reading over it.

Exiting out into the hallway, Jaune made his way down the hallway to find a secluded place to close his eyes for a bit. Turning around the corner, he took a step to the side, as a faunus girl almost walked into him.

She paused mid-step to look at him, eye's going wide. "Wait-"

"Yes?" Jaune paused.

"Um..." She stuttered. "Thank you."

"For what?" Jaune couldn't remember ever-, oh. "Oh the purse. Get everything back? Nothing missing?"

"Yes!" She nodded, her rabbit ears bobbing slightly, Jaune found himself unable to look away from them. "Thanks to you." She noticed his gaze and blushed. "Sorry, I don't want to bother you."

The Xiong heir-to-be shrugged. "It's fine, I was just going to nap. Nothing major."

"Oh!" She brightened up. "Then, you wouldn't mind if I treated you to a drink? My treat?" Her rabbit ears twitched forward, the ends drooping slightly.

He couldn't look away, Jaune realized. So, just slowly nodded.

"Great!" She gave a chirp. Then looked nervously at him. "Oh! I haven't introduced myself. I'm Velvet, Velvet Scarlatina."

"Jaune, Jaune Xiong Arc."

----

"So, do you girls believe in ghosts?" Nora asked the table.

"No. That has no scientific backing." Weiss said firmly.

Her fellow comrades stared her down ruthlessly, with a expression of 'really?'.

"Well, I do." Nora said proudly. "In fact, I've met one or two, right Ren?"

"They weren't ghosts," Ren said flatly. "She found my parents in a ... intimate moment, and they ran hiding under some white sheets."

"Same thing!"

Ren sighed. "No, because my parents are very alive, this happened yesterday."

"OH." Nora hit her palm with her hand. "That's right. Sorry." She looked around the table. "By the way, Jaune. Renny's parents want to know when you're coming by, they miss you!"

There was no Jaune at the table.

"Oh." Nora drooped sadly. "My boy has grown up." Then perked back up. "We'll, I'll just have to find and tell him myself!" Then disappeared in a blur of manic energy.

"Shouldn't you mind that?" Blake asked Ren, who shrugged.

"Jaune can handle that."

Blake nodded. "Do your parents actually miss him?"

Ren smiled. "Yes."

Ruby poked Weiss in the ribs. "So, don't believe in ghosts?" Yang joined in poking her other set of ribs. "Yeah? Don't believe in ghosts?"

Weiss squirmed being poked repeatedly. "Stop that! The idea of ghosts is just so illogical to me."

Pyrrha cocked her head at Weiss. "And? You don't have an opened mind to it, with your own circumstances, it seems even more illogical not to consider it."

"Ok. Point taken. But, that doesn't mean I believe in them."

Ruby laughed. "Gosh, Weiss, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were afraid of them with how much you don't want to be real!"

Weiss looked away, saying nothing.

Yang brightened up. "Oh. This is golden."

Blake peered at Weiss. "So, ghosts?"

"My childhood home was drafty that's all. It pushed doors open, perfectly logical explanation, I'm sure. The cold spots were just because of poor construction. The moans were just echos." Weiss fired off trying to explain it, mostly to herself.

"Geez," Yang chuckled, backing off. "Alright, it's fine. Not like ghosts are going to hurt anyone."

Ruby put a arm around Weiss. "Don't worry, we'll kick any ghost butts that try to haunt you!"

Weiss sighed. "Thank you, Ruby."

Blake looked at Ren. "You didn't say what you think about Ghosts?"

"Neither did you girls."

"I think we're pretty open minded. " Blake said, with all but Weiss nodding.

"Hmm. That's good." Ren sipped his tea. "I'd just say, they're not the strangest things to exist."

------

The door opened, revealing a dark room, Velvet flipped a switch, and Jaune went bug-eyed at the sight. 'There's no way this is real.' He looked around the room, trying to make sense of what he was looking at. 'But, it's here.' He looked at Velvet with a bit of fear.

It was a room entirely of him. As the Shadow Knight, not normal him, thank his ancestors it wasn't. But, all across the room was pictures of his alter ego, boards full of text, rare-video of him being played, and what he could only know as a half-way decent reconstruction of his first costume.

Jaune fought the urge to burn the room to cinders, he looked around, wishing very strongly to have brought a lighter to school. He'd know better from this day forward. Flint and steel, too.

"Excuse the mess," Velvet said meekly, then gestured to a chair. "Take a seat, while I brew some tea." Jaune sat down, staring at he wood, desperate to not see all his pictures, this was embarrassing to a level he didn't know existed.

"Oh, I didn't realize you were that tired." He heard Velvet say, causing him to snap back up. "I don't mind if you drift off for a bit. It'll take a moment to make the tea, anyway."

He was very tempted to do so. However, he decided to not do so. Embarrassing or not, he needed to figure out what the hell this all was. So for the moment, Jaune watched Velvet move around getting the tea leaves and setting the water to boil.

Velvet then took a seat parallel from him, looking shy. "Do you like black tea?"

He wasn't a big tea drinker, but he'd try anything once, foodwise at least. "Yeah, that sounds fine."

"Great." Silence mostly filled the room, other than sound of the water slowly boiling.

"What is all this?" Jaune decided to bite the bullet, gesturing around the room at ... all of that. "It's ... through."

She blushed. "It's not that great, it's just a bit of hobby."

Then he'd hate to see what really caught her interest. He looked at the replica of his old suit on a mannequin. "Yeah, a hobby. We all need one." Jaune watched a video of him decking a someone with Ferrum Vis, his old pipe, he missed it already. The video then showed him running away from the police, that had been a couple weeks ago, wasn't it?

Velvet nodded energetically. "Yep! Well, it's more than a hobby now, but it started out as such." Her ears wobbled. "I have a hard time talking to people. Now's not much better, though. I only really have Coco."

Jaune could understand that. "Yeah, people are strange creatures." Velvet looked down. "Not that you are, just in general." Jaune backpedaled.

"Thanks. But, I know this is weird, but ... I feel so drawn to him. It's like he's more than a man. It's just big thing to solve to me, a puzzle with so many moving parts! It's makes it all the more fun to try and figure it out." Velvet's voice grew in energy as she talked. "Like why does he do it? Who is he? When did he starts? It's all so many questions without answers."

"Maybe, that's for the detectives to figure out." Jaune added neutrally.

Velvet sighed. "I asked them, but they don't care. They have more pressing matters, other than some, and I quote, 'Crack-head bum getting into pissing matches with gang-bangers,'." Velvet frowned, and Jaune fought the urge to pet her. "How rude. But, I guess that's the best I could ask for, at least they didn't turn me away like some would."

That was actually a relief to Jaune. Knowing that police didn't think much of him, which he hoped to keep that way. Though, it did beg the question how much they knew? Maybe, he should take some time to find out?

Big Bear had hardly had any information on the shadow monsters, other than what his family passed down, and what he already knew.

Jaune thought about that book he found, it had mentioned The Moon Lady summoning darkness monsters? This went back several hundred years minimum, and he hadn't managed to cross-reference the story yet, so it's impossible to tell how old it was. It could have very well been written by somebody in the know, or just some guy.

Jaune sighed.

Velvet then misinterpreted this. "I know, right? The lack of interest in the topic is staggering, we have a actual modern day hero going around fighting for us, and no one cares, or hardly knows."

Jaune would fight her on that, given how many people had called to him as the Shadow Knight.

She then looked at Jaune hopefully. "What do you think about it all, Jaune?"

The blonde young man swallowed. "I think ... he's doing his best. Not perfect, but I think this 'Knight' is trying to make the world better, as much as one man can... Even if it kills him."

Velvet's ear's slowly stood up, her eyes widened, and she gave him a wide-happy smile. "I knew it! A good guy like you would surely get it!"

The kettle whistled.

"Let me get that." Velvet said happily, then sat a cup of steaming tea in front of him. Jaune took a whiff of it, it was very floral. Then brought out his lunch-box. It's weight making the table groan as he sat it down.

Velvet looked in shock at what must be a body-builder sized meal. "Wow." Then she looked at the clock. "Oh. I guess it is about lunch-time." Then went and retrieved her own lunch from the back of the room.

------

Yellow flew over the harbor, bored out of her mind. She had to control her power output while she flew, to keep anything sensitive from noticing her. It put her in a bad mood, as her control was by far her weakest trait.

Still, she had promised the rest that she would do her part and parole for a couple hours. It sucked that people were getting killed over here, but it's like all the people at the harbor were upstanding citizens to begin with. She honestly thought, that they're energy was best used going after Grimm Swarms, even if individually they were more than enough to handle that.

Still, flying in circles trying to sense something that might not be there anymore was driving her nuts, she really just wanted to pound some Grimm heads into oblivion.

She looked at the dark sky, realizing it was probably close to midnight now. They usually got done around 1, but sometimes as late as 3. Thankfully, for her beauty-sleep, was one of the perks for being a magical girl, along with Aura, was a reduced need for sleep. Otherwise they'd be useless by daylight.

Though, she still did miss sleeping in.

In the distance she spotted a crimson-glow making its way towards her.

"Hello, Yellow." Crimson greeted her politely.

"Hey, Crimson. Am I done, yet?"

"Indeed you are, feel free to go-" Crimson wasn't even halfway done, before Yellow took off.

"Great!"

Crimson shook her head, and got to patrolling. As a cargo-ship was coming in from the darkness, a heavy and thick fog following in behind it. Orange sparks appearing inside the dark mass only to then disappear.

----

Jaune looked at the rapidly dissolving mass of shadows, then at his ax. It was ridiculously sharp. It had cut through the head of a small shadow-wolf with next to no effort on his part.

It was a big step up from using Spite, the knife had been getting dull, and wasn't very high quality to begin with.

This was going to make combat going forward at lot more efficient.

Taking a breath, he organized his thoughts and controlled his breathing, time to find another one.

He tapped his helmet. "Hey, girls. Anything on your end?" The twins were sitting back at the van keeping a eye out, ready to take pot-shots at anything that got too close.

'Nope.' Miltiades answered.

'Nothing of interest.' Her sister also responded.

"Alright, then."

Jaune went on a stroll, trying to see if he sense any more of them out tonight. But, so far, other than a few stragglers, it had been unusally quiet tonight.

Which would be fine with him, if not for the feeling of dread collecting in his stomach.

He stopped moving, feeling a chill down his back, and looked behind him.

There was a girl with pink and brown hair staring at him from the other end of the alley, she had a parasol over her shoulder, and looked amused.

Jaune stared back. She smiled, and then gave a 'follow me,' motion before running off. He had a bad feeling about her.

He followed anyway.

She was fast, hardly able to keep up, as she practically danced in the air in front of him. It was unnerving. But, he kept pace, running for what must have been ten minutes, with her not even straining.

Then she stopped abruptly, as they rounded in front of a store that had been broken into. A dense heavy fog was surrounding the store, as from within two large, lumbering shadow-wolves scooped up in they're clumsy arms whatever valuables they could, before venturing back into the fog.

Jaune stopped, looking in utter confusion at the sight, trying and failing to figure out what the hell was going on. Analyzing the beasts, before noticing a single glowing sigil on they're heads.

That of a Fox.

He looked back at the girl, then sighed, as she was gone. He looked at the store, and the retreating shadow-wolves disappearing into hardly-visible shapes in the fog.

"Well, well, well." A cocky voice came from above him. "Look who we have here?" Jaune looked up to see the vague-shape of girl glowing yellow, and felt his heart start beating rapidly. "What brings you round these parts, mister Shadow-Knight?"

"Wait-" He didn't get a chance to finish.

"'Cause, it looks like to me that you're robbing the place! Well, whatever, I've been itching for round two for a week now!"

#Jaune Arc #Fanfic

[ryuichirou]

Replies

More replies! Related to our KaliJami comic + our post from yesterday, and, as always, about some other stuff. There are also some spicier ones at the end of the post.

Anonymous asked:

I'm guessing the latest comic is before they became first years.

Yep! I don’t know if we got any info about how exactly it went in canon, but I’m guessing Kalim didn’t take the fact that they would be separated for the first time very well.

Ironically, I think he got over it right before he got transferred to the NRC lol And all that emotional growth (well, an attempt) went out the window.

Anonymous asked:

Jamil's side of KaliJami is basically that one post that's like 'my favorite trope is when a character realizes they're in love with another character and instead of being cute about it, they're just like "No, fuck, god why?!"'

Yeah, exactly! If Jamil really was to realise that he is in love with Kalim, it would probably be the worst news ever for him lol He’d probably be disappointed in himself too…

Anonymous asked:

Azul X Jamil is the definition of comedy, while Kalim X Jamil is the definition of tragedy. Yeah, I wonder if Azul and Kalim is jealous to one another?

That’s a nice way to look at it, Anon. And together they create an absolute insanity in Jamil’s mind lol

I don’t think Kalim would be jealous at first. He seems to be genuinely happy when Jamil gets along with someone. If anything, if he found out that Jamil slept with Azul, he would assume that Jamil is in love with him and that they are dating, and would try to support them. But I still feel like deep inside he would feel the sting of jealousy, similarly to how he felt it when Jamil was chosen instead of him as a lead vocalist in ch5. How far is he going to take this jealousy? Who knows. Maybe we’ll play around with this theme in the future.

Azul, on the other hand, is very jealous by nature, plus easily annoyed by naïve and gullible people. So while he isn’t antagonistic towards Kalim (he is an Asim after all, Azul has to stay friendly with him), he would still definitely feel jealous. His relationship with Jamil is supposed to be mutually beneficial and not romantic, but Azul has a crush, so of course he’s going to be petty about it lol Nothing of this will be shown to Kalim, he’s way to profitable for Azul to put his own feelings above his gain

Anonymous asked:

Has Ortho been jealous about anyone close to Vil? I knew you talked about Neige but what about Jack. They knew each other way longer than anyone. And what about Rook? Sure Ortho likes him...but we know who he is.

It’s always a bit weird with Ortho and honestly depends on a scenario you want to go with, because the whole jealousy spectrum is possible with this boy lol

I can easily see him coexisting with Rook and Jack and all those people, but I can also see him trying to act like everything is okay, but feeling extremely jealous and possessive. He isn’t used to sharing – his closes person (Idia) is entirely his own, and while he wants him to make friends, he knows that Idia isn’t going anywhere. But Vil is popular, and there are a lot of eyes on him, and a lot of people are close to him.

I don’t think he’ll have a rivalry with Rook – I actually feel like they would bond over their possessiveness in a weird way lol But I can also see Ortho getting teasing and clingy with Vil, just to assert his dominance and make everyone remember that even though there are other people close to Vil, he, Ortho, is the most special boy.

Anonymous asked:

Thoughts on malleus x cater 🤔 the size difference is surely something to consider

Replied here!

In general, every Malleus is great because of just how big he is… all the other characters are so small next to him~

Anonymous asked:

i'm the exceptions anon, and thank you for answering, that makes a lot of sense!

Of course! <3 I’m glad I managed to clarify what I meant.

Anonymous asked:

I’m not sure if you’ve answered something like this before, but what are your thoughts on mobs with characters? The beach scene in book 5 has a lot of…potential…with Deuce and Epel

Anon wait

Anon let me grab the loudest mic in the universe

YES.

We absolutely love anything with mobs, doujins and scenarios with mobs in general are one of our absolute favourites LOL I can’t even stress just HOW MUCH WE LOVE IT.

And YES THE BEACH SCENE IN BOOK 5!!! Of course Deuce and Epel managed to not only escape but also fight the guys, but the potential… the potential is too sweet not to think about how else the scene could’ve ended. Deuce and Epel are also kind of perfect for this type of thing, both of them are so cute and pretty, and oh how horrible it would be for them to get outnumbered and mistreated for being so cute. Especially Epel, who basically seduced them with his cuteness in the actual scene anyway lol

In general, twst has a surprising amount of scenes that could lead to steamy mob/character sex, but I guess this is what happens when 85% of the student body consists of spooky douchebags with no eyes.

I gotta draw something with mobs one day…

Anonymous asked:

Flojami when Floyd fucks Jamil brutally and pulls his hair real hard that's when Jamil realized he's a bit of a masochist (<- would never admit it)

See, this is why Jamil doesn’t like being around the octa-boys: they make him learn a lot of things about himself LOL but never to this degree, this is purely Floyd’s merit.

But yeah, Floyd is probably the most perfect sexual partner to unlock Jamil’s inner masochist: he’s mean, he’s chaotic and he doesn’t give a shit. Jamil would tell him to never do this type of stuff without permission (or AT ALL!!), but they both know that the fact that Jami didn’t expect it made it much more pleasurable to him.

Anonymous asked:

I finally got around to reading your dad hcs, and because I am obsessed with diasomnia forever and ever, I cannot stop thinking about Silver as a dad.... Would he have sex with his own kid(s) if he thinks it's just as normal as any other parent-child activities or training? He's such a good man, and if he followed his instincts more, he would be the perfect dad, but if he's trying to immitate his beloved father's parenting.... 😔

Sdfsdf ANOOOON!!! 😭 The Vanrouge methods of alternative fae parenting survives another generation. This is so beautifully cursed.

Well to be completely fair, I doubt Silver would do it, because, just like you’ve said, he has his good man instincts, and they usually lead to him making right decisions. He also has some common sense (despite Lilia’s hard work…), which we’ve seen in that vignette in which Sebek and he tried to take care of a baby bat.

At the same time, Silver definitely doesn’t think that him having sex with Lilia was a bad thing, SO LOL I guess the only reason he wouldn’t do it to his own kids would be because he wouldn’t want to.

But at the same time!!

Would Silver think at any point think that it’s his responsibility to teach the young ones how to fuck someone properly, i.e. lend his butt to them for educational purposes? He would. And he would be so proud of their achievements…

Raising an army of future little Lilia Vanrouges, one tiny top at a time.

#replies

[cirrus-ghoulette]

The Honour

Word Count: 2,526

Rating: General Audiences

Characters: Terzo, Copia, mentions of Dew and Omega

Tags: Injection CW, Terzo and Copia aren't related, also this is not Copiiia, it's Just Two Guys, Trans Copia and Trans Terzo

Summary: When Copia gets cold feet during his first ever testosterone shot, he requires Terzo's assistance and guidance to help him through it.

"Papa?" 

It was late at night. Terzo had been in his office all day, planning the new tour and working out the budget for it. It was going to cost the Ministry a pretty penny, and Terzo couldn't leave his office until he'd knocked a few thousand off the price. 

"Papa." 

A gentle knock at the door. 

Terzo sighed heavily. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, then capped his pen. He technically wasn't in his consultancy hours, but if a sibling needed his assistance this late at night, he'd help them. "Si, come in." He droned, the weight of the day feeling heavy on his shoulders. 

Slowly, the door creaked open. Instead of the black habit that Terzo had expected, he instead saw a flash of red as they stepped into the room. A Cardinal? Terzo sighed, then uncapped his pen again and went back to scribbling down expenses, knowing that it couldn't be too bad if it was a Cardinal coming to talk to him. Probably wanting to discuss a new sermon or to ask for some money to buy something the ghouls wanted. 

"How can I help, Cardinale?" Terzo asked, not looking up from his work. If they slept in the bus that night instead of getting a hotel, it would be just over five hundred dollars cheaper. 

"Ehhh…" The cardinal in question was stood in the doorframe. He'd taken off his biretta and was shyly holding it against his chest. "Papa Terzo?" 

"I am a very busy man, Cardinale. What can I do to help?" Terzo sighed. He checked his watch. Half past midnight. Satanas. "It is late." 

"Si, si, my apologies." The cardinal wrung his hat in his hands anxiously. "May I sit, your Eminence?"

"Of course." Terzo struck out a line in his work and wrote it out again. "Please, sit." With his right hand, he gestured to one of the two thick leather swivel chairs across from his own seat. "Something is the matter?" 

"Ehhh… Yes." The Cardinal sat down in one of the seats, the leather creaking loudly under him as he got comfortable. He tried not to squirm as Terzo's eyes flicked up to look him over for a quick second, before going back to his work. "It is… Unconventional. To say the least." 

"Oh?" Terzo sat back in his seat, an eyebrow raised as he finally looked over the other man. He twiddled his pen between his fingers as he spoke. "Le mie scuse, what is your name again? It has passed my mind." 

"Copia, sir." The cardinal cleared his throat. "Cardinal Copia."

"Please, Cardinale." Terzo capped his pen again and tucked it away in its box. "We are alone here. Call me Terzo." 

Copia seemed to squirm again at that. He didn't like the concept of calling the dark pope by his first name. Satanas, he was like a little weasel, Terzo's brain supplied.

"If you are sure." Copia said quietly. "And please, refer to me as Copia. Or- or, eh. Angelo is my first name." 

"Angelo Copia. An interesting name. How can I assist you, Copia?" Terzo tipped his head to the side like a confused ghoul. "Is it Ministry related, or personal?" 

"Personal, personal." Copia was running his fingers along the wing of his biretta, staring at it as he spoke. The fabric on the vein of the wing was worn, as if this was a gesture of comfort that he often did when anxious. "Eh, medical, almost. I suppose." 

Terzo hummed. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and leaned back in his chair. "I suppose that the infirmary would be the best to go for that. I think that my ghoul, Omega, is on shift tonight. He is a wonderful medic." He knew Omega was on shift because he'd be going back to an empty bed, which really annoyed him.

"No, no, no." Copia grimaced. "Yes, I know of Omega. He is lovely. A very gentle ghoul for his size." 

"Mmmm…" Terzo rolled his head on his shoulders and sighed happily. "Si, he is."

"To continue on, eh… The medical issue…" Copia sighed. "I have been prescribed testosterone. By the infirmary. I am to take it once every two weeks." 

Terzo nodded slowly, one brow raised. He just let Copia talk. 

"But I… I was given all of the equipment to take the testosterone at-" He checked his watch quickly. "Six o'clock this evening. After my duties had been completed for the day." 

"And it is now midnight and you still haven't taken it?" Terzo supplied. Copia nodded. "I see. You have a fear of needles?" 

"I… Ahhh… Kind of? I did not realise how hard it would be to inject myself until I was faced with the task." Copia admitted, a frown on his face. He was still rubbing over the wing of his biretta with his thumb. 

"And you come to me for assistance?" Terzo hummed, resting his cheek on one fist. "Why me?" 

"Omega said that you had experience with injections, that I should go to you for assistance if needed." 

Thanks, Omega. 

"Si, I do. Where is your kit?" Terzo pulled open one of his desk drawers and took out a small bottle of hand sanitiser (Dew had crossed out the wording and put 'hand Sataniser' instead). "Since it is your first one, I will assist you. After that, you will talk with the infirmary about changing to gel or pills, yes? Something that you are more comfortable with using." 

"Of course, Terzo." Copia said. It felt strange on his tongue, to say Terzo without a 'Papa' in front of it. "My apologies." 

"Do not apologise. You will learn about what works for you and what doesn't work for you." He said, scrubbing the Sataniser over his hands. "I will repeat, where is your kit? Your needles?" 

"Ah, back at my rooms." Copia stood quickly. He didn't want Terzo in his quarters. It was a pitiful state in there, with his rats living in more lavish quarters than him. "I'll go and get it and bring it back."

"Thank you." Terzo said dismissively, then waved Copia off, watching as the Cardinal bumbled out of the room. 

Almost ten minutes later, the Cardinal returned. He'd changed into a pair of jogging bottoms and a matching hoodie, both in cardinal red. He brought with him a small black bag, one Terzo recognised as a standard Ministry issue bag for carrying this sort of thing. Terzo's own supply was kept in a metal case, which kept the needles and vials safer while travelling. 

Terzo himself had changed too. He had removed his robes and changed into a white button down and black slacks. He'd washed his hands properly and had donned a pair of black medical gloves. 

"Come, come, sit." Terzo patted his desk. Copia gave him a strange look in response. "You are up higher that way than if you were sitting in a chair. It is easier for me." He explained, clearing a space on the desk in front of his own seat. 

Cautiously, Copia approached the desk and hopped up onto it. His legs slotted between Terzo's where he sat in his desk chair. "Thank you for doing this." 

"Ah, shush, it is nothing. It's an honour to give you your first shot." Terzo took the bag from Copia and unzipped it, looking through the contents. "Have you decided where you would like the first shot?" 

"Omega said-" 

"Omega hasn't given himself this injection before." Terzo cut in. "I would suggest your thigh, or your stomach." He then chuckled. "Even your ass, maybe." 

"I think I will stick with thigh." Copia frowned. That had been his plan in the first place. He didn't like his stomach, and he'd be damned if he was showing the dark pope his backside. "Is that good?" 

"Si, si, I go for thigh normally. Sometimes my stomach if I need some variety." Terzo said, reading over the scrawled instructions in the top of the bag. "Trousers down to your knees, please." He said absentmindedly as he read over the dosage. 

Copia paused, wondering if this had been a bad idea. When he didn't move to pull down his trousers, Terzo looked up from the instructions with a disapproving expression. Copia quickly pulled down his joggers to his knees after that. 

The room was quiet, save for the steady ticking of a monstrance clock above the hearth, as Terzo read over the instructions. He'd been taking T for years, but he wanted to ensure that Copia was to take it the same way he did. 

Eventually, Terzo nodded approvingly. "Alright. I'm going to touch your thigh. I need to look for a bit that is meaty. The thicker the area, the less it will sting, got it?" 

"Got it." Copia echoed, staring at the Papa as the man gently palpated his thigh. He tried to focus on anything else, instead of the embarrassment of being a fully grown man and not being able to inject himself. He closed his eyes and started reciting sermons in his head in the hopes that it would distract him. 

Eventually, Terzo decided on the side of Copia's left thigh. He squished it between his fingers a few times, then nodded to himself and grabbed an alcohol wipe. He ripped open the sachet, wiping all over the area. "Firstly, you make sure it is clean, where you are wiping. I tend to shower before my shots, so that it is clean, and so that I am also relaxed." He explained. 

Copia nodded, staring directly at the wall behind Terzo's chair. He couldn't meet his eyes like this. "Shower beforehand." He noted. 

"Mhmm. Then you get a needle, and you uncap it." Terzo said as he did the actions, even though he could see that Copia wasn't looking at him. "Uncap the bottle of testosterone. Look." 

Copia looked down at Terzo. He was holding the vial of testosterone in one hand and the syringe in the other. Fuck, that was a long needle. Shit. 

"Pull back the plunger in the needle to the same amount as your dosage. One millilitre, in our case." Terzo pulled the plunger back. He could see Copia just staring at the needle. "Do not worry. You will barely feel it." 

"It's big." Copia murmured absently. 

"It just looks big. It's not bad. Omega has been kind to you and has given you a smaller one." He took another alcohol pad and wiped the top of the vial of testosterone. "Wipe. We do not want dust or any nasties injected into your system, no?" 

"No." He whispered. 

"No." Terzo repeated. "Needle, in the top. It will go straight through. Now, that air you have put in the needle, you push into the bottle." He pressed down on the plunger. "Like so. You are watching, si? Not getting in your head about the needle size?" 

"No, Papa." Copia mumbled. "I am watching. You press out the air." 

"Good, good. Bottle- upside down. And you draw the fluid into the needle. One millilitre, where that little one is, you see."

"I see, I see." Copia nodded. He ran a hand through his hair anxiously. The more Terzo dragged it out, the worse he felt. He knew Terzo was just trying to help, but it meant that he was spending ages just waving this absolutely huge needle around. 

"Stop worrying, it will be over before you know it." Terzo chuckled. He withdrew the needle from the vial and placed the bottle to the side. He then flicked the side of the syringe. "Do you see the bubbles?" He held it up to Copia's eyeline. "Those are bad. We do not want bubbles. That is air, and your body will not appreciate you injecting those." 

"It will cause an embolism." Copia supplied, to which Terzo nodded with a small smile. 

"You have been doing your research, huh? Good." He chuckled. He pressed down on the plunger slowly until a droplet of the fluid appeared at the point of the needle. "See, this is good. No more bubbles. Now we are ready." 

"Fuck." Copia breathed shakily. He was visibly sweating, a slightly horrified look on his face.

"It is scary, yes. Especially your first time." Terzo murmured, finding the patch of skin that he'd settled in earlier. "But just think of the positives that this will bring too. You will grow more body hair, your shape will change, your voice will deepen… It is worth it, fratello." 

"I'm ready." Copia said, though the crack in his voice and the tremble in his hands betrayed him. "Please. Do what you must." 

"Ah, so dramatic." Terzo laughed, pinching the skin of Copia's thigh in his hand again. "Sharp scratch. Three, two, one." 

The needle plunged in. 

Instantly, Copia gasped, his eyes widening as he stared down at the injection sight. "Merde!" 

"Shush, shush." Terzo drew the plunger back slightly, checked for blood, then pressed the plunger down all the way at a steady pace. "See? You are doing well! Nearly done, now." 

"Bastardo, quel cazzo fa male!" Copia growled, losing his grip on his second language as he breathed shakily through the pinch. "Fa sempre così male?" He almost whined. 

"You are just thinking that it hurts that much because you have worked yourself up." Terzo pulled the needle out slowly and capped it. "Honestly. When you are more experienced, it will feel like nothing more than a little pinch because you are not overthinking it." 

Terzo placed the syringe in the bin, making a mental note to dispose of it properly once Copia was gone, then reached into his desk drawer for bandaids. He sighed heavily. 

"My little shits of ghouls think they are funny." He muttered. His usual bandaids were missing, but they had been replaced. "Do you want, eh… Hello Kitty, or… I think this is Barbie?" He was going to kill his ghouls. Slowly. 

"Er…" Copia stared at the two boxes. Neither of those two options were good. "I will take the cat. It is not as if anyone is going to see, anyways." 

Terzo opened the box of Hello Kitty bandaids and pulled out a circular plaster with the titular character's face on it. He then carefully stuck it over the injection site on Copia's thigh and gave his knee a pat. "Congratulations, Angelo." 

"Thank you." Copia murmured softly. He stood, pulling his jogging bottoms back up. "I am… Truly very appreciative. Not many people would agree to assist a man with his first T shot." 

"Ah, well… It is an honour to assist you with it." Terzo said, peeling off his gloves and placing them in the bin. Then, he packed the vial back into the bag and gave it to Copia. "Until you get placed on the gel or the pills, if ever you feel the need for some assistance with your injections again, you know where to find me." 

"Yes, Papa. Thank you." Copia grabbed the bag and made sure that he hadn't left anything on the desk, before making his way to the door. "Thank you again, Papa. Goodnight." 

"No need to thank me. Goodnight, Cardinale. Rest well." 

#ghost #ghost band #ghost bc #papa emeritus #my works #headcanons #headcanon #Bun writes fics #Copia #Terzo #Cardinal copia #Papa terzo #Trans Copia #Trans copia

[toomuchracket]

Being ‘besties’ w Matty, and sharing a flat. Neither of you really know you’re in love w the other, or maybe you do but you’ve suppressed it. I’m thinking about how it is when one of you has someone spend the night.

Matty meeting them in the kitchen the next morning and being very polite (perhaps too polite, offering them coffee). And as soon as they’ve left Matty just says ‘no. You can do better than that’. And then that day he is extra tactile with you- kissing you on the head, ruffling your hair, pulling you into multiple hugs by grabbing at your jumper.

And when Matty has someone stay and it’s your turn to meet them. How does that go?? Maybe he teases you a bit. If you complain you could hear them going at it, he just laughs and says ‘you should’ve joined us’.

Matty bursting into your room in the early hours. “I NEED A CONDOM. WHERE DO YOU KEEP THEM?” And he is rifling through your drawers before you’ve even woken up properly.

Him blasting music in his headphones because he cannot stand hearing you with someone else.

I have so many thoughts related to this concept!!!

oh you're both absolutely in love with each other but you're both kinda terrified to fuck up the dynamic by admitting it in case it goes tits up and someone has to move out (a proper nightmare especially in this cost of living crisis, actually) so it's all kind of meaningless sexual encounters and they're all kind of unfulfilling because the person you wish you were sleeping with and trying to distract yourself from thinking about is literally through the wall right now with their headphones on (although i think sometimes on the days when the yearning for each other is really bad then they do listen for a little bit for, uh, selfish reasons before it starts to hurt). and most of the time you both kick people out after you've fucked them, out of respect for your flatmate, but there's one night you're just so exhausted that you fall right asleep after it and then you run into matty the next morning and it just triggers this sense of possessiveness within him - he's being overly polite so he doesn't snap the guy's neck out of jealousy, and yeah he's extra tactile and almost-boyfriendy with you that day and you actually really like it. and in terms of matty having a girl stay over, i think it would be really funny if that also triggered his possessiveness as well as yours. like, you're in the kitchen with your coffee seething watching this beautiful girl stand in your hallway hugging matty, and then she sees you in the kitchen and comes in and starts flirting with you like "matty i understand why you didn't introduce me to her last night because i literally wouldve slept with her instead holy shit" and he's like "ok it was great to see you BYE" and after she leaves you're like "she can come back anytime" and he's like "no she fucking cannot". i think the condom thing is funny the way you said it, but i also think that it's the straw that breaks the camel's back in terms of the two of you finally getting together. matty bursts into your room at like 4am looking for one, and it's the first time you've ever actually seen each other face to face on one of the nights where you have someone over. he's half-dressed and dishevelled, and you're half-asleep with bedhead and he can't actually look at you because you look so adorable that it hurts his heart (very be my mistake you do make me hard but she makes me weak vibes), so he just blindly flails towards your bedside table and grabs one BUT in doing that he ends up on top of you and looks at you properly and maybe you've stolen an old t-shirt of his to wear to bed and you're both breathing heavily looking into each other's eyes and he says something like "i don't want to go back through there to use this" and you go "then don't... kick her out and come back to me" and you kiss for the first time and he kicks the girl out and you two finally have sex and all is well <3

#mads muses #mads answers asks #flatmate!matty

[fresamilkwrites]

LIGHTHOUSE RELATED HEADCANONS ━ Bruce Wayne [The Batman]

author's note. Many of you have been asking me for a continuation to my lighthouse fic, and while no particular idea has come to mind, I did mention before that I had a whole plot of Bruce and reader's life... so I decided to tell you some more about it in the head canons format! Anyways, if you have any prompts or want to know anything particular about their relationship, don't be afraid to leave it in my fic requests!

They're low-key together simply because she has a savior complex.

The Wayne Enterprises investors wanted Bruce out of the company because they thought he didn't give a good impression. It was then that under Alfred's influence, Bruce decided to take his public life and image more seriously.

He goes to a charity dinner and keeps to himself the whole time, he does not know how to interact actually.

But she's there.

She was the typical social butterfly, the people's delight and very kind regardless of the fact that she'd grown in wealth.

She realized Bruce was alone and that everyone seemed to be nitpicking everything about what he did or how he looked. That made her decide to take some action.

She approached him and started a conversation that surprisingly flowed naturally. They simply got along, which was a rare occasion in Bruce's life.

After that, they always found each other at events and social functions. They stuck together and slowly but surely became closer. Things naturally flowed that way.

Her family didn't like him, they also thought of him as a social reject and didn't want their only daughter close to him. It was bad reputation, they said.

But she didn't care, she was falling for him.

And she always thought it was unrequited. He never showed how he felt and that was misleading when it came to this matter.

"He just likes hanging out with me. As friends." She'd go around saying.

But Bruce also had feelings for her.

Feelings that he also didn't quite understand. But he did know that being with her felt right and always worked as a way for him to escape what tormented him. At least for some time.

So that to him translates into a marriage proposal, somehow?

And he does propose.

Randomly over dinner.

He struggled to and stumbled over his words trying to explain the proposal he had, of course he didn't just ask the usual "will you marry me?" Bruce made it sound like a business agreement to a point.

She was confused to say the least.

But also extremely happy to know that after all, her love was reciprocated. And then she accepted.

She understood Bruce was a man with broken pieces, but she was set on the fact that with all the love and patience she had for him, things for him would eventually get better.

When she broke the news to her family, they weren't happy and tried to convince her to give the ring back. She wasn't willing to do that, ever in a million years.

"You simply don't get him like I do," she'd tell her mother.

After the wedding and moving in together, she thought she could see improvement in him and their dynamic. He was still pretty warded when it came to his emotions, but he seemed to put an effort and everything went well.

He never verbally told her that he loved her, but she knew he did. She learned he didn't smile at anyone, but he did at her. He made jokes. He asked her to cook special foods for him like a kid. And at night when they slept, Bruce held her so close that it felt as if he were afraid she'd leave.

And she was happy that way, that was enough.

Even if sometimes she felt like his behavior was neglectful towards her emotional needs, she never focused on that because she understood it was never intentional, and knew that he was always trying his best. Besides, seeing him "happy" (it's not like he really projected much happiness when they weren't in private but that was besides the point) was all she cared about.

#kore's fics #kore's writing #bruce wayne #bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x fem!reader #bruce wayne x you #bruce wayne x oc #battinson #headcanon #Robert pattinson #Bruce Wayne x y/n #fanfic

[bastardfucker]

Soldier Boy X Fem!Reader SMUT

American Pie

Warnings: Descriptions of past child abuse(supe related, testing powers), Soldier Boy is a sexist prick. Technically dubcon but not really(reader and Soldier Boy are smoking weed; he also pouts because Alcohol doesn’t effect her and he wanted to “wine and dine” her, but she is aware of his intentions and THEN she offers him weed, so she knew he wanted to fuck before she got stoned). Mild violence, mildly rough sex, Weed Use

Description: When you left the raspberry pie for your bake sale out on the back porch to cool, you expected a cool pie, not America’s Greatest Superhero pawing at it like a cartoon bear. You really didn’t expect to share your life story with him, and you definitely didn’t expect him to take up residence. For better or worse, he’s decided you’re a part of his world.

~*~

It was too much.

Every fucking thing overwhelms his senses as he staggers through the streets of New York City. Damn close to forty years had passed since he’d last set foot in the Big Apple, and nothing’s the same as he remembers it. He was a hero, for fuck’s sake, America’s greatest, and now people maneuver in the street to avoid him, like all the other Vets that get thrown out like trash once their duty is done.

He hates that fucking statue.

The damn thing stands there like it’s mocking him; pristine and proud and everything he was. While it sat here, regularly cared for and kept clean of bird shit, the real deal was being tortured by Russians; locked away in a glorified freezer and forgotten like a box of baking soda when you move house.

He wants to smash it.

But then, everyone would know who he is. Vought would know who he is; and considering they allowed him to be taken in the first place? No, he couldn’t risk those eggheaded fucks putting him back in a box. Never again. Still though, it feels bad, hungry and alone in a city he helped put on the map. How many movies had he starred in again? How much blood did he shed for this country? Now he doesn’t even have a couple bucks for a burger.

It’s getting dark, and he’s tired. He hadn’t slept since Russia, not even on the plane, for fear that someone might recognize him. Now, back home, all the people look so different, look at him different. Sure, he’s the strongest guy on the planet; the Russians proved that no random mugger off the streets has what it takes to do him in, but the danger of discovery is very real. What happens if someone goes to stick a knife between his ribs while he sleeps and the damn thing just folds against him? He kills the fucker. What happens if someone happens to see? Vought let him get captured once, he’s terrified of what happens if they do it again. Never.

What he needs is a place to hide; lay low and get his energy back before he even thinks anymore about going on the warpath. How the hell though, is he supposed to sleep, when his damn stomach won’t shut the hell up? In between episodes of animal fear and self-pity, he smells it; something warm and sweet, familiar. Sitting on the back porch of a house circled in chain link is a fresh baked pie. Raspberry, if his nose is still working right.

Hopping the fence is easy; Russian torture and forty years of Cryo may have taken his life away, but not his skills. The same couldn’t be said for his manners, and he goes after that pie like a cartoon bear, digging his paws into that sweet filling and shoveling it into his mouth as quick as he can.

That’s when he hears it.

The woman’s gasp startles him out of his feeding frenzy, and he turns to face her, beard plastered with raspberry filling.

“Don’t scream.” He holds his hands out defensively, praying that she remains calm.

She tries to slam the sliding door to her porch, rushing for the safety of her home, but Soldier Boy’s reflexes are quick as ever. He catches the door, hot on her heels. He grabs her, but she shifts with a strength he hadn’t expected, and the both of them fall to the floor. The woman tries to scramble away, but he grabs her ankle before she can stand fully, his grip like steel as he pulls her back down.

“Please!” He shouts, trying his best to remain calm. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

She struggles in his grip, but he’s adapted to her surprising strength, and she goes prone, for now. “You’re a supe,” she grimaces, looking up at him from the floor.

“Yeah? So are you, judging by the fight you put up.”

“Fuck,” she exhales, eyes darting to her porch. “If we’re gonna have this conversation, can you at least shut the damn door?”

He looks at her incredulously, studying her face for the first time. “Ya know, that’s no way for a beautiful lady like you to be talking.”

She groans. “What is this, the fifties? Please,” she begs, the barest flicker of desperation in her eyes. “I’ll talk however you want me to if you shut that door.”

He searches her eyes, her worry does seem genuine; and not solely due to the strange man currently pinning her to her kitchen floor. He doesn’t trust her yet, can’t afford to, but if she’s got secrets too, secrets he can use, maybe it’s in his best interest to oblige her.

He stands, hauling her up with him by the arm. She grumbles, but looks considerably relieved when he shuts the door, clicking the lock behind him. To be honest, it’s a relief for him too. His eyes dart around the room, scanning for exits and entries like he was trained to do, and he lets out a sigh of relief he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in. The decor was a little tacky, but cute, homey. The girl’s a supe, but she’s clearly trying to live a normal life. If he holds her identity over her head, she’ll have to let him stick around. His eyes return to her; she really is a pretty little thing, especially in that cute little Halloween print apron. No ring on her finger, he notices, and the prospect of playing house works its way into his plans.

“So,” she starts, carefully. “Are you going to tell me why you’re standing in my kitchen?”

“You first,” he grunts, leaning against the table, accidentally resting his hand in a heap of flour. “Tell me why you’re so cagey about your powers.”

Her brow furrows. “Why should I tell my life’s story to the stranger who broke into my home?”

He lets out an amused scoff at her defiance, she’s a fun one. “Because I asked you to.” A charming grin spreads across his face. “And I’m stronger than you.”

His quiet threat sends a chill down her spine, and stirs something in her that it really shouldn’t. She stares in him with indignation before admitting to herself that any further argument is futile. “I slipped through the cracks of Vought’s files when I was a kid, and I don’t want them coming to recover their lost asset, okay?”

“Slipped through how?” His interest is peaked, hoping that whatever she did could help him cover his tracks too.

“I got taken into Witness protection after…well, there was an incident, and Vought was denied access to my new name and family; one of the agents took pity on me and decided to actually enforce the non-disclosure rules. I got incredibly lucky.” She hopes to god he’ll leave it at that, but apparently her luck was all used up.

“What Incident?”

She rubs her eyes, sitting down onto one of the old kitchen chairs and gesturing for him to do the same. He does, pleased by the subtle increase in hospitality. There’s hope for this spitfire yet.

“My birth parents were obsessed with testing my powers,” she starts reluctantly, chewing on her cheek. “I was really young, mind you.”

The smile fell from Soldier Boy’s face. The tests Vought ran on him when he first was dosed with V weren’t pleasant, the Russians even less so…the thought of any of it happening to a child makes him sick. “Were they scientists?” He asks, hoping there were at least some kind of safety measures.

She just shakes her head. “What are your powers?”

She huffs, not pleased about the unexpected trip down memory lane. “Oh you know, the basics. I’m strong, I’m durable-”

“Did you kill them?” He cut her off, hoping that she squeezed the lives out of the sick fucks willing to experiment on their own child. His own father had regarded him as a disappointment, but even he never would have intentionally tortured him.

She smiles dryly at his fervor, comforted a bit by the lack of judgement. “My father, yeah.” She wrings her hands together uncomfortably. “It wasn’t the strength though, it was my more unique power.”

That interested him. Compound V was interesting. When he had signed up, the Vought scientists told him that they never can be sure exactly what powers will manifest, or if the subject would survive. He had won the super power lottery, so to speak, but it was always interesting seeing what other people had become. His interest in this case, of course, is morbid, and tinged with rage at the thought of a kid going through it. He knew what he signed up for, he doubts she had any say in the matter.

When he doesn’t speak, she continues. “Weaponized Poison Immunity,” she whispers, like it’s too awful to say out loud. Her eyes move to her hands, and he notices that she can’t seem to look at him. “They knew a lot of Supes have a high resistance to poisons.” He nods, he himself being one of them. She grimaces. “They funneled everything under the kitchen sink down my throat.”

Soldier Boy exhales sharply, teeth clenched with fury. He’s horrified on this woman’s behalf, and pissed that he can’t do a damn thing about it. “How did you kill him?” He growls, barely above a whisper.

“My body, it…metabolizes poison differently than most people, most Supes even.” She looks back to him, hands gesturing outward as if to show him her skin; though it looks completely unharmed. Soft and beautiful. “When I’m exposed to poisons, my body sweats it all out.”

“That doesn’t sound-”

“It dries into glass,” she explains. “If I’m not extremely careful, it blasts off of me like toxic shrapnel.”

“You’re a living bomb.” His chest is tight, he himself having recently become a walking nuclear reactor, he finds himself with a bit more sympathy for her than he may have had before.

“My parents panicked when I started sweating. My mother called 911, and my dad tried to hold me.”

“And you exploded.”

“I did,” she frowns. “Ironically, that’s the only memory I have of them actually caring about me.”

“So that’s why you don’t want to use your powers,” he notes, settling back into his chair, realizing for the first time that his hand is covered in flour. He dusts it off against his stolen pants.

“My life revolves around controlling it,” she admits, clicking her nails nervously, feeling scrutinized under his gaze.

His brow furrows with confusion; how hard is it to avoid poisons in everyday life? “Why?”

“There’s a surprising amount of toxins in processed foods; so I typically cook everything I eat from scratch.” He smiles at that, thinking of that pie he’d been raiding outside. He’s always loved a woman who knows her way around a kitchen, especially when they look as good as she does. “There’s still some,” she admits. “Nowadays it’s hard to avoid with all the different chemicals sprayed on everything, but I had my bathroom built to accommodate the blasts, so all I have is a mess to clean up,” she laughs, feeling a bit more lighthearted under his smile. “All my neighbors think I’m a wino.” She gestures to the broken glass in the extra-strength garbage bag lining the bin.

He swallows, coming to what he thinks is a real unfortunate realization. “Alcohol doesn’t work on you at all, does it?” There goes his plans for wining and dining his way into her heart…among other things.

“Goes right through me,” she giggles, watching him pout.

He groans when he stretches, an elaborate display to show off his muscles; peaking a bit through one eye to make sure she’s paying attention to him. The blush on her pretty face restores his mood. “Oh come on,” he grins. “You’ve got to have something to help you unwind.”

“Big ol’ bag of weed.” Her face splits into a wide grin as his eyes widen. He certainly hadn’t expected little miss house-wifey to be into that kind of thing, but he wasn’t about to complain.

“Do you partake?” She asks, just as politely as she might have if she’d offered him a glass of water.

“Uh…yeah!” He nods, still taking in the strange image of her in her pretty little dress and apron leaning up to grab a bag of the Devil’s lettuce from her cabinet. He sits up straighter to get a better look at her ass before she settles back down into her seat. Black lace. “Yeah I’d hit it,” he grins, talking less about the weed.

He watches in awe as she clears the flour from a section of the table so she can roll a nice fat joint. Her tongue flicks out to seal it and she makes eye contact with him, captivating his imagination. “What?”

“Just thinking about what else that tongue does,” he says, a little too candidly, like he expects that line to work for him; forgetting that less than an hour ago she’d caught him wrist deep in her pie like a wild man.

She scoffs, letting out a laugh that borders on sheer disbelief. “Oh no, no no no no, you did not just say that.”

He leans forward, eyeing her with what may have been a charming grin if he didn’t still have raspberry filling in his beard. “And what if I did?”

She laughs, genuine, as she stands to dampen a kitchen towel for him. “I don’t know, try it again after you’ve cleaned up a little.”

He nods, lips pursed with embarrassment before he wipes the mess from his face. “Okay, my bad, but it would have totally worked if I had a better introduction, right?”

She laughs again, before lighting the joint, and passing it to him as she exhales. “You sir, are an odd man. Who are you anyway?”

“What?” He coughs, enjoying his first joint in almost forty years.

“I told you mine you tell me yours,” she smirks. “That was the deal.”

He takes another drag before passing it back to her. “Oh, I’m Soldier Boy.” He’d said it completely matter of factly, as if he hadn’t just claimed to be America’s Greatest Superhero, back from the dead. She damn near dropped the joint. It all makes sense though, doesn’t it? The off collar comments, the mind stuck in the fifties, the face under all that scruff. Not to mention how easily he’d manhandled her.

Fuck.

“I believe you,” she says, taking a long drag.

“Really? That saves time.” He takes the joint back from her, making a point to brush his fingers against hers as he does, hoping to ignite a spark. “So how come the wacky tobacky works for you, but booze doesn’t?”

Still reeling from the revelation of exactly who she’s sharing a joint with, it takes her a moment to collect her words. “Alcohol is just a really weak poison, that’s why when normal people drink too much they throw up, and sometimes get liver failure.” He nods, pleased to not be normal people. “The human body has cannibinoid receptors; that’s why weed plays so nicely with us. It’s not poison, it just is.”

He coughs. “Canniba-what?”

“Weed good, alcohol bad,” she smiles, shaking her head. “Ya know, you’re in pretty good condition for a man who’s been dead for forty years.”

He slams his hand down on the table, surprisingly not breaking it, but sending flour flying everywhere. “NOT DEAD!” He shouts, anger flaring up inside of him. “My team helped the fucking Russians take me out,” he huffs, trying to calm himself down. “You’re a lady, so I won’t tell you what they did to me, but once they decided I’d had enough they put me in a box and left me there.”

She looks at him with concern in those big beautiful eyes of hers, and he relaxes his fists flat against the table, breathing heavy. “Some British fucker and his pet twink let me out, but I didn’t stick around to find out who they were. All I wanted to do was come home, get a little revenge, make a little love, but nothing’s the fucking same.”

She swallows hard, recognizing the dissociation in his eyes. Gingerly, she places a hand over his, and he appreciates the feminine gesture. He wants to take her hand in his, but he’s afraid he’ll crush it if this rage keeps up. “That’s why I hopped your fence,” he admits. “I was America’s Golden Boy before I was taken; now I’m broke, alone, and hungry.” He shakes his head. “Why the fuck does a burger cost so damn much now? Not like I’m trying to buy the whole damn cow.”

She stands, slowly, a look of pity in her eyes that would normally hurt his pride, but he’s smart enough to know that he can use that. She won’t throw me out on the streets if I tug at her heartstrings. “I can cook you a burger, if you want,” she offers, already moving toward the freezer. “I pre-shape a bunch of them at a time so they’re convenient to cook later. Buns too.”

He does his best to look sympathetic. “I certainly won’t turn down a hot meal when it’s offered by a beautiful woman.”

“Save the cheese for your burger, big guy,” she reprimands him, but the blush on her cheeks and the way the corners of her mouth turn up take the edge off.

His mouth can’t help but salivate as he watches her cook. He’s not sure what she spiced the burgers with, but whatever it is smells damn good.

“I’m gonna go grab that pie,” she says, making her way toward the door. “I’ll just be a second.”

His chest tightens a bit, worried that she’s going to take off, tell someone about him. “Don’t you go running off on me now, ya hear?”

She laughs, missing the real threat in his playful tone. Much to his relief, she leaves the door open, barely even stepping out before she grabs the pie, and locks it behind her on her way back in. She sets the pie on the counter, plating what’s left of it in a way that almost looks presentable, like he hadn’t pawed at it like a wild animal. He appreciates the gesture, enjoying having someone clean up after him. Such a lady.

The oven dings, and she startles, setting the plate on the counter. “‘S’cuse me.” She pats his shoulder as she passes by him, pulling another pie out of the oven. Cherry this time. It’s then that he notices a good tray full of pies sitting on a rack by her fridge. He raises an eyebrow when she comes back in from setting the cherry pie out to cool.

“You run a bakery?”

She giggles at him, tucking her hair back behind her ear as she watches him stand, moving to inspect the pies. “I like to bake, but no, these are for my bake sale tomorrow.”

He chuckles, feeling more comfortable in what’s beginning to feel more and more like home to him, eyeing the pies intently. “Girls and their bake sales…church or book club?”

“Book club.” She flips his burger, less annoyed by his assumption than she is by the fact that he was right.

He smiles at her, and it makes her heart flutter in spite of how old he’s acting. “That’s so cute. What are you ladies reading this week, hmm?”

“Oh, no, we’re writers,” she corrects him, wiping the flour from the table so they have somewhere clean to sit.

“Ooh, even better,” he’s only half paying attention now, eyes fixed on a pumpkin pie with a nice cinnamon sugar edge. “You’re not selling this one,” he says matter of factly. “The pumpkin is mine.”

She stares at him with a deep sigh, before popping the homemade buns into the pan to heat up a bit and absorb some flavor; just like her mom taught her. “Fine, fine; but you have to finish the raspberry one first. I don’t like wasting good food.”

“Fine by me,” he smiles, not completely accidentally patting her ass on his way back to his chair.

She jumps, and he shrugs like it was an accident. Her eyes roll. “Okay honey,” she’s trying to poke fun at the way he strolled up into her house and started acting like she’s his wife, but he misses the joke, pleased with the pet name. “What kind of cheese do you want on your burger; I have cheddar and Swiss.”

He looks a bit taken aback, and she can’t tell if he’s hamming it up or not. “No American?”

“Hate to be the one to tell you this, but American Cheese is basically plastic now.”

He scoffs. “Yeah I’m noticing that trend.”

She gets him cheddar, rather than push the cheese issue further, and lets it melt while she goes through her condiment selection with him. When the burger’s finally in front of him, he all but moans. “Oh baby I’ve missed you,” he sweettalks the beef.

She giggles at the blissed out face he’s making, always proud when people enjoy her cooking. The fact that he’s gorgeous doesn’t hurt. It startles her when he speaks, having zoned out staring at him.

“What?”

“I said, what is it that you and your lady friends write?”

It takes her aback the way he watches her with genuine interest. “Oh, I didn’t think you were listening after I said “book club”. Don’t take this the wrong way, but you don’t really seem like you like to read.”

He laughs, and she smiles at the warm sound. “Honey, you gotta remember I was born in 1919; I’m literally older than TV. I love movies, obviously, I’ve starred in enough of them,” he shoots her a red carpet smile, slightly diminished by the lettuce in his teeth. He’s cute. “I still like a good book every now and again though.”

She looks away from him, blushing at the way his green eyes seem to be captivated with her. Right where he wants her. She moves to wash the pan she’d cooked his dinner in and all he can think about is bending her over the sink and taking her right there. He licks his teeth, wanting the attention back on him. “So, what do you write?”

Her back straightens and her blush deepens, he eyes her with interest as her bottom lip goes between her teeth. “Oh no way!” He grins wide like the goddamn Cheshire Cat. Her eyes are suddenly preoccupied with the ceiling. “You’re a smut writer! That dime store filth?” He’s excited now, smelling blood in the water and going after it like a shark. She leans over the sink, palms covering her face with embarrassment. “Hey, hey, no need to be ashamed; some of that shit is really hot.” He stands, leaning on the sink next to her, close enough to take in the scent of vanilla. He’s not sure if it’s perfume, or if she’s just picked up the aroma from a long day of baking. Either way, he’s a fan.

“Why don’t you read me a little of your new project? Maybe we can both enjoy it,” he speaks in a low tone, leaning in a little too close.

She stands up fast, pushing off the sink and away from him, much to his annoyance. “Oh no, no I can’t do that.”

He pursues, amused by her apparent embarrassment, and takes hold of her wrist. “Oh come on baby, there’s no need to be modest with me.” He laughs. “After all, I did organize the first ever Herogasm.”

“I know!” She whines, the sound making his blood pump deliciously. He’s thinking of all kinds of creative ways to make her make that sound again.

She slips his grip, because he let her, and retrieves her laptop from the livingroom. He eyes it curiously, never having seen a computer quite like that.

“Woah, now that’s some sci-fi shit.”

She laughs, though the sound is strained from her own embarrassment, fingers trembling as she types her password. “This is what computers look like now,” she explains, opening up a Google Doc.

She stands up from the couch, inviting him to sit while she runs around the other side of the coffee table like a scared rabbit. He’s absolutely intrigued.

“I Fucked the Soldier Boy: A collection of Historically Rooted Fiction about the Founder of Herogasm, America’s First Great Hero”

“What. The. Fuck.” His mouth hangs slack as he skims a little of what she’s written, written about him, as well as a slew of original female characters. He’d be lying if he said he isn’t turned on.

“Vought Commissioned it in honor of this year’s Herogasm,” she forces herself to admit, voice Damn near a squeak.

His eyes snap up to fix her with a hard stare. “I thought you said you were hiding from Vought.”

“I am,” she swears. “This is all remote work, done on that computer.” Her heart hammers in her chest. “They aren’t familiar with my new name, and the pay is really good.”

That’s satisfying enough for him. He sinks back into the couch, a wide and hungry grin plastered on his hands on face as he stares at her, returning to the business at hand.

“This is good, by the way.” She covers her face, and he licks his teeth; she’s cute when I make her squirm. “You have a gift with words.”

“Thank you,” she squeaks out from hiding behind her hands.

He stands, walking slow and purposefully toward her, stalking her like prey. He can hear her heart pounding, like it might leap right out of her chest. That’s okay baby, I’ll catch it. “That said…” he slowly, gently but firmly, guides her hands away from her face, encouraging her to look at him. “I think you could use a little more research.”

He kisses her gently at first, testing the waters, not wanting to push too hard just yet. All bets are off, however, when he feels her lips press back against his.

He lifts her up, bridal style, and carries her to the couch, setting her down so that he can kneel between her legs. “It was awfully kind of you to fix me dinner, sweet thing, but now I’m hungry for my dessert.”

She very nearly breaks the skin of her lip between her teeth as he pushes up her dress and apron, whistling in appreciation as he gets a better look at the black lace that excited him earlier. He presses a firm kiss against the fabric, humming in delight before dragging his tongue along the soaking wet lace. He grins, looking up at her as his fingertips slide up under the waistband. “See, I bet you’ve been baking this for me all night,” he teases, throwing her a cocky wink. “I told you that line worked.”

“Oh hell no,” she laughs, chest still tight with nervousness. “This is in spite of that line.” It had been a long time since she’d been good and fucked; it’s hard to believe that Soldier Boy, God Among Men, is currently kneeling between her legs looking at her like he’s praying to his own gods.

“Watch your language, young lady,” he growls, tearing the panties easily from her body.

“Oh come on!” She whines. “Those were my favorite.”

“You don’t need them,” he purrs, relishing the sound she makes when he sinks his teeth into her thigh. “All you need is that apron and a nice pair of heels and you and I will have ourselves a happy little home.”

She opens her mouth to argue with him, a tad unsettled by his Stepford fixation, but the words quickly die in her throat and are replaced by an undignified moan as he effortlessly slides two fingers into her needy cunt, tongue teasing her neglected clit.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t quite catch that,” his tone is innocent but nothing covers that mischievous grin, his thumb rubbing skillfully against her clit as he waits for her to attempt speech.

“You’re an ass!” She squeals out, core tight with pleasure.

“Finger fuck your ass? Well okay,” he mocks, spitting on her tight asshole, making her shiver.

Before she really has a chance to process his words, his pinky finger slips into her ass, and the moan she lets out is downright desperate.

She’d never cum so fast in her life; but with Soldier Boy’s skilled fingers inside of her, his hot mouth torturing her clit, she was soaking his beard in no time. He shouts a loud “WOO!” At his accomplishment, like he’d set a new record, “I still got it, BABY!”

He doesn’t let up. Fingers curling into that perfect spot as she pushes at his shoulder to no avail, whimpering from the overstimulation. “Soldier Boy PLEASE,” she begs, tears in her eyes from the intense orgasm, second well on its way. “Please, it’s too much!”

“What was that, honey?” He asks, not slowing in the slightest. “Sorry I can’t hear you when you’re smothering me with these sweet thighs of yours.” It was bullshit, she knew it was bullshit, and so did he. The bastard has super hearing; and if she wasn’t too busy screaming through her second orgasm she’d have called him out on it.

Only after he feels her pussy stop clenching so tightly around his fingers does he slow down, giving her a much needed break. He crawls over her, still fingering her agonizingly slowly, and gazes into her eyes like a predatory beast. “Ya know, sweet thing, I was gonna fuck the sass out of your mouth, but I think this perfect little pussy is calling my name.”

Her head thrown back over the couch from her earlier ecstasy, she whimpers in response, spreading her legs for him as he rips off his shirt.

He chuckles, taking hold of her chin and forcing her to look at him. “Ah, no, use your words for this one, darling.”

“Please fuck me,” she begs, a delicious ache in her core from his earlier ministrations.

“Please fuck me, who?”

“Soldier Boy,” she whines. “Please fuck me Soldier Boy!”

He laughs, the sound coming off as rather cruel in her desperation to feel his cock inside of her. “That’s better, baby.” He leans in closer, so his lips are almost touching hers. “But it’s not what I want.”

“Ben!” She all but cries. “God Ben PLEASE fuck me, please!” Her hands cup his cheeks, desperation brimming in her eyes on the verge of tears.

He presses his lips to hers, enjoying what may well be the first kind touch he’s felt in forty years; maybe longer, who knows how many of his old loved ones actually ever gave a damn about him. He doesn’t want to think about it, chasing away the thought by pushing his pants down his hips as his tongue makes its way into her mouth, claiming her. His Sweet Thing. He rips off her dress and apron. So what if she liked these, she can fucking sew them if she wants to keep them so bad. She doesn’t complain. He’s going to fuck her so good she never even looks at another man again.

She moans into his mouth when he thrusts up inside of her warmth, and he drinks it in, drinks her in. She’s so tight around him that it could drive him crazy, if the blissed out expression on her pretty face wasn’t enough to bring a man to god. His name flies off her lips like a hymn as he pistons into her with the passion of a man possessed.

“Mine.”

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but he couldn’t stop it from tearing its way through his throat. Her beautiful eyes snap open, lips parted as she desperately tries to find words. He kisses her so she can’t.

“You’re mine,” he commits, growling into her ear as his hand finds her throat, gripping a little harder than he means to.

“I want to hear you say it.”

“I’m yours.” The words come out strained, a harsh and desperate whisper that reminds him of his own strength.

He doesn’t apologize, moving his hand from her neck to the back of the couch as he fucks her harder; the marks where bruises are sure to form spurring him on.

Now everyone will know who she belongs to.

She squeals and he gasps as they topple over onto the floor, the force of his thrusts flipping the couch onto its back. He flips her over, so that she’s face down on the carpet, giving her ass a good firm smack before plunging himself back into her warm wet cunt.

“Baby I want you to come for me,” he growls, pumping into her so hard and fast that if she hadn’t been a supe he would likely be doing serious damage.

“I’m gonna!” She screams, riding the delicious edge between pleasure and pain, revelling in it.

He leans down, smothering her body in his heat as he bites down hard on the back of her neck.

That’s going to leave a bruise.

She moans, her body jelly, cunt clenching around him as he cums, milking his cock for all he’s got. He collapses panting over top of her, his weight suffocating yet pleasant.

Oops.

He has no idea whether or not she’s on the pill, but truth be told, he doesn’t hate the thought of her standing in the kitchen, barefoot and pregnant with his child.

Always wanted kids.

He rolls off of her, letting her take in a much needed breath before pulling her into his chest, cuddling up together on the floor.

“I’ll be staying for a while, if the lady doesn’t mind.”

All she can do is nod, breathless and still reeling from that third intense orgasm. She presses a kiss to his bare chest in response.

Yeah, I’ll be staying a long while.

#soldier boy #mypost #soldier boy the boys #soldier boy x you #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy fic #this is a long one guys

[alaskashigh]

Arkansas headcanons bc I love him

When Arkansas gets really mad, big sharp diamond spikes form on his neck, back and a little on his elbows (neck ones are small, back ones are big, elbow ones are teeny). they have a red tint and are a mix of see-through clear and black. His bottom canines get a bit bigger and protrude more. Ears are pointy (elf ears) and he loves putting earrings on them. His ears are always decked out in earrings he's made (jewelry maker Arkansas the beloved) and he keeps the first ever earrings he's ever made in his ears 24/7 and refuses to take them out (unless he's cleaning his ears or his jewelry.) Hairs a spiky fluffy mullet that barely touches his shoulders. The shaved part next to his ears a bit outgrown. Hair is a mix of reds, browns, and blacks that fade into each other Occasionally has a small black and red tufted tail that curls, though he doesn't like it much since the other states make fun of him for it and call him "Piggy." (tail, spikes, teeth, etc are based off of the Razorbacks logo and are used in my Cryptid State forms. he is not walking around all day everyday looking like that ((unless he idk wants to)). ears don't count, they're always pointy.) Scars, cuts, bruises, scratches, etc everywhere. Has a huge scar down his left leg (starts near his knee, ends at his foot. on the back of his leg). Hands are always rough and calloused from how much he always uses his hands. Slept on his legs wrong and now he has a bit of a limp, one leg a bit more noticeable then the other and hurts occasionally. (I'm not projecting) Has a bunch of scratches around his pelvis area and on his hips

Always looks mad (even tho he kinda is mad a good portion of the day). Dude has a resting bitch face (same). He could be having the time of his life and people would think he's pissed (sometimes it's a little upsetting having to explain that no, he ain't mad, he just looks it.) Though he ain't upset about it. Don't think about him, talk to him, or even look at him and he'll be good. This man lives outside he actually would rather sleep in the leaves in the forest then go back to the statehouse. When he's at his own home in the woods he'll sleep outside a lot as well, but he also likes going back to the quietness of his cabin, cooking a nice meal on his stove (instead of the makeshift campfires he makes when he's too busy in the middle of one of his many 1000 projects and is deciding to sleep outside), and sleeping on his couch or in his bed. he eats, sleeps, and breathes nature, okay? (me) he ain't the Natural State for nothin I have dyscalculia so now he has dyscalculia. I mean it's only fair Will bury your body in the woods if you mispronounce his name. I swear to god he will oh my god he actually goes insane its like nails on a chalkboard its so fucking annoying its Ar-Kan-Saw not fucking "Ar-Kansas" or "Ar-kan-SAS-" like it actually drives him nuts you will never be seen again OH MY GOD- (sorry, might've gotten a bit caught up there in my own feelings.)

Wyoming/Montana/Arkansas headcanons

Got sat next to each other once in a meeting and ended up going to a bar after a rough time, now are inseparable. Didn't really talk to each other much, especially Arkansas with his "leave me tf alone" glare and aura, but secretly admired each other because they could relate to one another. Love to just sit in a room or outside, not talking to each other, and doing their own thing. They are very much introverts/have introvert characteristics and prefer the quiet. Montana kinda found out he had feelings for both of them, but didn't realize it was romantic feelings for a while. (Dude hasn't dated in a long time) Wyoming and Montana "got together" first (moreso them realizing they were in love with each other but not sure how to go about it, also not sure about what to do about their feelings Arkansas) Arkansas was not sure how to feel about the whole crush thing since one, he'd never been in a poly relationship before, and two, he hadn't dated many (if any) men in the past. (not even women really. he had his dog, cat, and woods to keep him company. not saying he wasn't lonely but he doesn't date much.) Took him a long time to even confess he liked them back. (He knew he liked them but figuring out if it was romantic or not was a struggle.) Took them months to get into a qpr as a way to test the waters before it later turned into a romantic relationship. Relationships are hard. (all of these fuckers are on the aromantic spectrum idgaf. projecting onto Arkansas like a bitch lol) Still considering on moving in with each other (they like their quiet space but also enjoy having each other around. While moving in together sounds nice, they still aren't sure yet since they don't know if their ready for that type of change. Besides, figuring out whos state they want to live in and all of that is a lotta work.) so they switch between each other's houses a lot. Some days they're staying the night at Montana's, other times they're riding horses in Wyoming's or relaxing in Arkansas. Bond a lot over shared interests such as farming, cowboys, sports, outdoor activities, etc and can ramble about it for hours.

We can just ignore how late this is (totally wasn't supposed to do this weeks ago. life gets in the way too much sometimes.) Anyways, I love them and don't think about them enough. Though I do need to do more research on Wyoming and Montana since i'm not from those states, nor do I know much about them besides knowing Wyoming's the cowboy state and where he is on a map. (proud being able to point at all states on a map, though that's what this fandom does to you lmao.) Sorry if I got anything wrong on Wyoming and Montana (can you tell by the lack of stuff on them that I don't know those two well?)

#im supposed to be watching a movie my friend recommended to me but instead I'm doing this. smh #wttt arkansas #wttsh arkansas #wttt montana #wttsh montana #wttt wyoming #wttsh wyoming #wttt #wttsh #welcome to the statehouse #welcome to the table #ben brainard