#one of them ''abandoning'' or ''replacing'' another. no they are not.

[your-eternal-lies]

_  LEFT HAND GREEN (oneshot)

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PAIRING — Loki x f!Reader SUMMARY — You hadn't planned on spending your Friday night playing a game of Twister chicken with a literal god, but hey—if it gets you to where you need to be...

WARNINGS — Plot? What plot? This is basically just porn (but with some feelings because, you know, romance). Minors, please do not interact.

LEFT HAND GREEN

"Didn't you hear me, Agent?" Comes a voice, smooth as silk yet twice as dangerous. "I said, left hand green."

You scowl, making a mental vow to yourself right then and there, that you will never again attend another one of Tony's stupid parties. You are swearing off alcohol. You are swearing off form-fitting dresses that make it hard to breathe. You are swearing off him.

Loki—god of mischief, former alien invader, and current persona non grata—your partner and the bane of your existence. The only reason the two of you have been paired together is because he's already gone through more agents than anyone can count, probably scaring them all off with the mere sounds of his batshit crazy.

Steve and Tony made it clear, while they understood your reluctance, that you should do everything in your power to make sure this partnership worked. They had run out of agents to assign him, and you were the only option left.

His usual Asgardian garb is gone tonight, replaced with the crisp clean lines of a white button-up shirt and dark trousers. His dark curls, usually slicked back with precision, not a single strand out of place, fall loosely around his face.

Maybe it was the bubbles from all that champagne that had you staring at him a little longer than usual. You normally can't stand him, his features laced with the same arrogance that had him playing puppeteer with an entire city. Your city. Despite his joining the Avengers, you haven't forgotten.

Although, you must admit, it's getting harder and harder to remember at this very moment. Especially while the two of you are a mess of tangled limbs, exposed skin, and harsh breathing.

Why did you take your clothes off again?

Oh right, you think as you glance over to where your little black dress lies abandoned on the floor. You were getting too warm from all that alcohol, and the fabric had been too restricting for a game of Twister.

Well, at least you're still wearing underwear.

All that smack talk you two had heatedly exchanged earlier comes back to bite you in the ass. He had declared that this was the most pathetic party he had ever seen. You, while not particularly fond of Tony's too lavish parties to begin with, still felt compelled to defend it out of pure spite and nothing else.

Wanda had brought the damned game, was met with a chorus of protesting groans, and then cast her big green eyes to the floor while mumbling sadly about how she'd never played before. The whole team then reluctantly caved, of course.

But soon, one by one, people decided to call it a night, eventually leaving you and your so-called partner standing before the wrinkled plastic mat, challenging each other to another round because obviously there wasn't even any competition.

He arrogantly proclaimed that victory would be his, by a landslide.

You proudly declared that you were much more flexible.

And now his large body looms over you, all sharp angles and smirks, his hands placed firmly on the mat at either side of you. Meanwhile, you try to maintain your balance, your arms and legs awkwardly bent underneath you... your lace-covered chest thrust up into his face, the warm puffs of his breath dancing across your skin.

"Enjoying the view?" You grit sarcastically, rolling your eyes as he grins down at your heaving breasts. You lift your left hand and try for the closest green circle, huffing in annoyance when it remains just barely out of reach.

"Why, yes," he confesses, his face so close that his lips brush against one of your bra cups. "Midgardian fashion is just so... quaint."

You roll your eyes, not bothering to entertain his response, trying not to focus on the infuriating shape of his mouth, your limbs straining as you try and reach that blasted green circle.

"And obviously you agree, seeing as you couldn't stop staring at me all night."

Now, that makes your ears perk up. "Excuse me? I wasn't—"

"You forget who you're dealing with, dearie," he chuckles, the sound scraping against your every nerve... especially a particularly eager one between your legs. "How do you expect to convince everyone you hate me... when you look at me like that all the time?"

"Like what?"

"Like you want to bury me and consume me all at the same time."

"You are delusional, Laufeyson, as always," you bark, turning your head away so you can't get lost in those dangerous blue eyes. "Focus up; I want to win this damn game already. I'd rather not spend a minute more with you than I have to."

"That's a bit rich, coming from someone who's underneath me whilst half-naked," his lips curve up into a smile, and you can almost feel the movement against your chest. "But I suppose this could serve to... strengthen our partnership."

"A partnership implies equality and trust," you say, your shoulders and thighs starting to ache from trying to maintain your position. "I definitely do not trust you as far as I can throw you, and you obviously don't see me as an equal."

"Says who?" Loki drawls, and the room seems to shrink beneath the weight of his question. "In fact, darling, as much as it pains me to admit, you're the only one around here worth talking to."

"Stop trying to distract me," you mutter, your brow furrowing in concentration. You try not to think about how long it's been since you were this close to a man... you know, when you aren't twisting him into a headlock or kicking the absolute shit out of him.

"Ah, so I distract you?" Again with that smirk. That smirk that makes you painfully aware that he's destructive, pompous, and always so fucking patronizing—exactly your type, apparently, given the way your nipples pebble beneath the lace of your bra.

"I will smack you," you threaten halfheartedly, angling your body slightly to make one last attempt at completing your turn.

"Careful, mortal," the teasing and good humour are gone from his voice now, replaced with something else much more treacherous, "your heart beats too loudly."

"Then stop listening," you grunt, your torso inadvertently sliding along his. You freeze when he hisses, right when you feel your lower abdomen come in contact with his groin.

"Impossible," he groans loudly, his head tossed back and exposing the long white column of his throat. You swallow hard the urge to lean forward and bite him. "Who's distracting who, exactly?"

You gape up at him, frozen, feeling something hard against your hip. "Is that—are you—?"

The shock of it all causes your elbow to give under your own weight, sending you crashing down onto the plastic mat. Loki lowers himself onto you almost immediately, trapping you between him and the floor.

"Looks like you lost," he declares, his large hands already circling your wrists and pinning you to the mat. "Do I get to claim my prize now?"

"We never agreed—" you struggle against him, your voice failing when he leans in close, your noses almost touching.

"Terms can be negotiated, darling," the god whispers, eyes absolutely blazing, flashing with a hint of green that makes your clit throb. "The timing, however, not so much. I'd like to collect now."

All thoughts of distancing yourself evaporate instantly as his mouth crashes onto yours, his hands leaving yours to slide down your arms, finding their way around the band of your bra. He latches onto you like he's starving for whatever you're offering, his tongue dragging across the seam of your lips.

Without thinking, you open for him.

You begin wondering what he is truly the god of, because with each stroke of his tongue, you swear you're being struck by lightning.

God dammit, you're kissing Loki—something your wandering mind had certainly entertained before, but never expected to happen.

And it feels so damn good.

"I see you everywhere I go, Agent," he confesses against your lips, his warmth leaving your skin as he sits back on his haunches, making a show out of unbuttoning his shirt and revealing inch after inch of perfect unblemished skin. He shrugs the garment off, a mesmerizing sight as the delicate material whispers along his sculpted arms and falls to the floor. "I can taste you in the air I breathe."

"Lo..." your voice isn't working, other than to let out a series of whimpers and moans as his hands return. This time, they find their way to your hips, his fingers teasing a path underneath the waistband of your panties and then gently pulling them off.

You clutch the plastic mat underneath you, breath quickening as he lowers his face to your newly exposed sex. The moment his tongue touches your aching clit, stars explode. Loki is relentless in the pursuit of your pleasure, the sounds and vibrations of his groans getting lost inside you as he completely buries his face in the wetness of your desire.

You screech as your hips buck forward, gasping over and over again as he practically tortures you with his tongue. He is not quiet about it either, the room filled with the sounds of his sucking and slurping while the pressure in your belly begins to burn out of control.

But just as you are about to be catapulted over the edge, he releases his hold on your lips and pushes your thighs further apart to make room for him. His hands are a blur of movement at the front of his trousers, the rasp of the zipper so loud in the empty room, before his cock spills out from between the layers of fabric, already rock hard and pointing right at you.

Loki covers you with his warmth immediately, finding his place between your legs and grunting when you wrap them around his hips. His hands squeeze your breasts and lift them higher, enough to take one into his mouth, lace and all.

"Yes!" You cry out as he sucks at you shamelessly, fingers tracing the swell of your tits, swirling his tongue around your sensitive peaks until your bucking against him, trying to relieve the tension between your thighs. His teeth clamps down as one hand snakes down your torso, finding its way to your aching pussy, unceremoniously sliding two fingers deep inside you.

Loki draws back, admiring the bite mark just above the edge of your bra cup, his lips curving up into a satisfied smile.

"Well, aren't you a vision?" He growls as his fingers move faster inside you, the heel of his palm rubbing against your swollen clit. His erection grazes your thigh, twitching as if begging for attention, but Loki seems unbothered as his eyes darken just a shade. "Beg me."

"Ugh," this son of a bitch; you would slap him if you weren't so desperate to come. "Fuck you!"

"Not quite what I was looking for," he murmurs as he removes his fingers from your hole. He replaces them with the swollen head of his cock, teasing your entrance with maddeningly slow circles.

"Loki," you threaten, the tone of your voice leaving nothing up for debate, but that was all it took. Hearing his name like that goes straight to his hips, them punching forward almost as soon as you said it, sheathing himself inside you with one smooth thrust.

His own breathing becomes laboured as he keeps the pace brisk, unable to help pushing in and out of you, relishing the way your muscles clenched and trembled as you fully embraced his hard length.

"I tell myself I still yearn for Asgard's throne," he manages between thrusts, voice barely above a whisper as he continues to fuck you into the mat, his hips smacking into the back of your thighs. "That this pitiful planet is nothing more than a chessboard, a stepping stone towards my glorious purpose."

Your fingers wind themselves into his hair, your bodies reacting to each other more fervently with each passing second. Despite yourself, you tilt your chin up as if to silently beg for another kiss, the faintest whine escaping your throat when he doesn't oblige.

"But somewhere between your infuriating presence," he grunts, punctuating his words with a particularly brutal thrust, drawing another pleasured cry from your lips. "And the chaos of this world, I find myself torn... between the call of power and the unexpected allure of something far more perilous."

You want to say something back, but he fucks you so deep it's like you can feel him right up against your throat. All you can do is hold onto him, gasping for breath, hanging on for dear life.

"Feelings. Sentiment. For you." He spits out the words like they're foreign, distasteful even, his hips keeping up their cruel punishment, but his eyes are almost kind when they find yours. His lips hover just a hair's breadth from yours, teasing and tantalizing as his body invades you over and over again.

His confession hangs heavy in the air, charged with a cocktail of what looks like regret and a vulnerability you never expected to witness from him. You feel your walls of defence crack, just a hairline fracture, but allowing more than enough room for him to slip through.

"You say I distract you?" He thrusts harder, the tip of his cock finding a spot inside you that makes you let go of the last tiny string holding any remnants of your composure together. Stars explode behind your eyes as you squeeze them closed, the plastic mat sticking to your sweaty back as you arch up into your orgasm.

You feel Loki lean forward and bite your shoulder, grunting as he fucks you through your climax, a few more thrusts before he himself tenses inside you. His hold on you softens, his teeth retreating and replaced with the soft cushioning of his lips, all the while his hips jerk again and again as he spills hot rushes of fluid into you.

You lay exhausted on the floor, sweaty and dishevelled and wrapped in a tarp of colourful circles and still joined together. You close your eyes, trying to catch your breath as Loki slowly and carefully wraps his arms around you, but doesn't remove himself from the warmth of your body.

"My dear, you're the one who won't leave me be."

Fin.

NOTES — Well then. I am definitely not going to church this morning 👀

#loki x reader #loki x f!reader #loki x female reader #loki x fem!reader #loki x you #loki fanfiction #loki oneshot #loki smut #loki fluff #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson x f!reader #loki laufeyson fanfic #loki laufeyson smut #loki laufeyson fluff #summer's fics

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Seven

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none

— WORDCOUNT: 2.6k

— TAGLIST: @esolean @localravenclaw @slytherins-heir

I

She called him at ten o’clock the next morning, right as he returned from breakfast. She sounded very excited. And scared. They agreed to meet the next afternoon not at the shop, but on a broad street from where they would walk to the Baron’s office. It all had more secrecy than a muggle dabbler merited, but Tom played along.

“Ready?” she asked once they were outside his building, a tall wide limestone white manor.

“As ready as you are,” grinned Tom, his eyes glinting. He was teasing her, and enjoying it far too much.

“Oh dear, I hope not,” she chuckled.

Its doors were as big as city gates, thick old wood with one much smaller door inset on the right. Above it in a shield of stone, a fat snake swirled as it ate a child, legs first. It was a biscione, the Baron’s sigil.

She pushed a button on a metal box beside the door, and a low voice answered on the other side.

“It’s us.”

The door unlocked with a buzz.

The inside was wide and sparse, a naked vault that rose high into the darkness, all cold corridors and decorous marble. There were no carpets, no paintings, not even chairs or tables, only stains and scratches on the stone to tell there ever were any. Golden candleholders clung lightless on the walls, replaced it seemed by fake-crystal fixtures that hummed with electricity.

There was a lift, but they ignored it and went up the stairs instead.

“I’ve been to mausoleums with more life than this,” said Tom.

She giggled. “He’s had to sell a lot of his family assets to renovate the shop. He could probably have them replaced by now, the last few years have been profitable. But I guess he prefers it like this. It’s just his way.”

They climbed the wide and stately stairs up and up and up, going past the first floor, and the second, and the third, and Tom began to wonder if the building was abandoned when a hollow noise came through. A steady murmur. A monologue.

They reached the fourth floor. She opened another door, the only one there between two naked walls, and they stepped into a vestibule.

It was a little livelier and richly decorated. Low red sofas lined the walls on either side, and a tall stove made of ceramic tiles was fixed into the corner. Bookshelves lined the walls, and busts of ladies in black marble were set against the corners.

In the centre, behind a tall imposing desk, sat a woman who nearly dwarfed it with her presence. She was flanked by stacks of papers and a telephone. Although her suit of blue and bronze was feminine in shape, Tom felt a bit emasculated. Her hair was pinned in a harsh style, slinked back and practical.

“Ciao, Berit! Come stai?”

“Bongiorno. Bene.”

“He’s still speaking?”

“Yes. You’re free to enter, silently.”

“I think we’ll wait here. Oh, by the way, this is Tom Riddle. Tom, this is Mrs. Berit Boveri, the Baron’s secretary.”

“Pleased to meet you,” said Tom, staying where he was.

The woman was impressive, and he wondered briefly whether this Baron had hired her for security rather than for answering his letters.

“Please,” she said, extending a hand in a quick, precise movement, “sit down.”

She appraised Tom coolly, quickly, before turning her attention back to the newspaper before her. An orange the size of a child’s head was cut open on the desk beside her, filling the room with a fresh scent.

The pair of them sat down, and Tom turned his attention to the sounds coming from the room behind them. A man was speaking in a low and shaky drawl, droning in Italian about what sounded to Tom like the Malleus Maleficarum, a compendium on witchcraft and demonology written by a sadistic German inquisitor in the 15th century. The silence of his audience was heavy and intense, chairs groaning now and then beneath their anxious squirms and ink pens scratching eagerly on paper.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he whispered to her after a sudden thought.

“What?” she whispered back.

“About the nero di seppia… I looked a perfect fool all night, didn’t I?”

She giggled. Tom frowned at her.

“I warned you not to order it.”

“Yes, but perhaps next time I’d like an indication as to why.”

She was going to say something else when the doors opened, and the Baron’s audience ambled their way out. The air buzzed with their excited murmurs, some laughing nervously, some crying.

The pair of them got up, ready to greet the Baron. Tom looked over the crowd as they filed out, a mixed group of all sorts of people, from students to the elderly.

“Where is he?” he asked.

“He’s coming over,” she said.

“Where? I can’t —” He was going to say he couldn’t see anyone else, but then he looked down.

The figure that approached them was far from what he had imagined. Although not diminutive in size, the white and wrinkly lump that came took Tom by surprise. He sat, like a deflated balloon, in a stout but polished wheelchair, and was rolling toward them.

“Hello, Baron,�� she greeted with a little bow. “Thank you for seeing us today. This is —”

“Come to my office,” said the old man as he rolled right past them.

II

The room was golden-lit with deep and intimate colours, as natural as an autumn forest. There was something to look at everywhere. The walls were dense with paintings and photographs in black and brown of little groups of men. The chairs were wide, majestic things with crimson wings and cushions. The carpet was a floral red, the windows tall and gilded. A crystal chandelier hung overhead, low and opulent and gleaming, and from a cabinet on the side a set of golden spoons with handles like rose stems shone among fine china glasses shaped like gaping koi. It couldn’t be anything further from what Tom was used to.

The Baron’s desk was small and delicate, overburdened with ink wells and notes, a lone lamp hard at work between them.

“So, how are you?” the Baron asked them once they were alone.

“Very well,” she answered, smiling widely. “And you, Baron?”

“Fit as an ox on the field, and twice as strong,” he answered in an imposing voice. “Is this him?”

“Yes,” she said, her nervous gaze flitting to Tom. “Should I —”

“Thank you. You may go.”

She nodded and turned without another word to Tom, her eyes lingering on his for just a moment as if to wish good luck. He watched her as she left like a chastened child, then turned his attention back to the old man.

“Pleased to meet you, Baron,” he said with a light bow. “My name is Tom Riddle. At your service.”

The man rolled his way slowly from behind the table, his face set in a frown — or perhaps the rolls of skin were so heavy that it was his fixed expression. He’d clearly been corpulent once, but old age and disability drained him of his strength. He stopped in front of Tom, the wheels almost atop his shoes, and extended his hand — to shake? to kiss? Tom had never met muggle nobility before… Although he was looking at him from two feet below, the old still managed to look down his nose at him.

Tom squared his shoulders, took a breath, and shook the Baron’s hand.

“Julius Eugenio Victor Agarda,” he introduced himself. His grip was still quite strong. His mouth seemed flimsy beneath a sparse moustache, and he spoke with a slight lisp — unless Tom’s eyes deceived him, he was missing a few teeth — but his eyes, a clear blue, had a steady gleam to them. “How do you do?”

“I’m well, sir, thank you,” said Tom, finally getting his hand back. “I came about the books.”

“So I’ve heard.”

With a flourish, the Baron directed Tom’s attention to the right, where a pair of doors stood closed.

“Help me with those, will you?”

Tom looked at him, feeling a bit puzzled, but he maintained his air of calm. He steadied the messenger bag over his shoulder and bowed.

“Of course, sir,” he smiled.

The doors were delicate and white, with carvings on their edges like a frame. Tom grabbed the brass handles and pushed. Beyond them was a large and sunny room in the same style as the Baron’s office but much wider. Its centre was dominated by a dark brown table and its walls with books. The east of the room was all tall windows framed by a thin balcony, and beyond that was the street and the canals.

“My most precious possession. My private collection.”

Tom rolled the Baron through, but quickly let go of him to stroll along the bookshelves without waiting for an invitation. They held every kind of esoterica, from the Corpus Hermeticum to the Grimoire of Armadel. Archidoxis was there, as was De Umbris Idearum, a book Tom had not seen since his first year at Hogwarts.

Others were more recent books, like a cluster on Bacchanal arts written in the 19th century. There stood among them also a well-worn copy of the Metaphysics of Sex. Tom curled his nose at it and looked over his shoulder with disgust. Some books were held in chains, with locks connected to the bookcase, and others were held safe behind glass panes, bright lights in the darkness.

“Impressed?” asked the Baron from the doorway.

“A remarkable collection,” said Tom as he turned.

The old man rolled forward with a peculiar twist of his heavy brows that Tom suspected to be pride. He went to one shelf in particular and reached as high up as he could, carefully picking out a volume. It was bound in leather so aged it was completely black, its spine capped in silver fastenings.

“Look at this,” the Baron said.

Tom stepped forward and carefully lifted it from his hands.

“Michael Psellus, De Operation Daemonum,” Tom read. “Byzantine books on demonology are hard to come by. It must be worth a fortune.”

“Seventeenth-century edition,” he said, slipping right over Tom’s praises. “One of five copies. They survived hidden among the volumes of Psellus’ Mathematics. Only the most important families of the time had access to them.”

Tom smirked. With the Baron’s toothless mouth and his scraggly sparse hair, he didn’t cut a very noble figure. “I don’t suppose you inherited it.”

The Baron took the book from him and set it on his lap, his fat hands folded over it. “I might have,” he said measuredly. “My family traces its roots to the eleven hundreds.”

A mocking smile played on Tom’s lips. He hid it with a timely bow. He’d rather not tell the old man he could brag of the same through Salazar, and so instead he said, “I’m honoured, then, to be in your presence.” But he didn’t hide as well as he meant to.

“Don’t be obsequious,” said the Baron tersely.

Tom straightened and looked down at him, steadying the strap over his shoulder once again.

“I showed my collection to you to illustrate a point. I have some of the rarest editions in my collection, first. And second, there is nothing that I want that I cannot acquire. Now, you may attempt to barter with me.”

Tom regarded the old man coolly for a moment, then took the messenger bag off his shoulder and placed it on the table. The Baron, after that little speech meant to humble him, had nevertheless given himself away: he may have had a grand collection, but he was still willing to entertain a nobody, a stranger, an unknown, for a chance at something rarer. A small man with a big ego and an insatiable hunger, Tom thought, I am well familiar with his kind.

“Then let me show you what I’ve brought for you today,” he said, “and you’ll tell me if it meets with your approval.”

The Baron went to place the books back on its shelves, and by the time he turned back, Tom had lined them all along the table.

There were six books in total. First was the Liber de Lamiis et Phitonicis Mulieribus, a 15th-century manuscript on witches and demonic possession. Then, the Liber Belial,a medieval grimoire with an unknown author, highly sought after and obscure. He took out The Grimorium Verum, an illuminated copy of The Sworn Book of Honorius, the Codex Palatinus Germanicus, and finally the colourful Le Livre de la Vigne Nostre Seigneur.

The Baron approached, retrieving from his breast pocket a thin-rimmed monocle that he perched upon his nose. He looked down at the books while Tom waited a little to the side, one hand stuffed casually in his pocket.

He picked the first one up, his old hands trembling slightly, and opened it, spine cracking. He threw his eyes over the frontispiece, then peeled away the first few pages.

Tom waited patiently as the Baron looked through the second book, and the third, and not a word was said. He could only hope the illusions he had cast on them would hold. It was difficult to even tell what the old bastard was thinking.

When the Baron was done, he took the monocle off, and slowly rolled to face him.

“Remarkable,” he said, his fat plum lips aquiver. “What vitality in these images… And The Grimorium Verum in particular I have been hunting for years.Where did you find them?”

Tom breathed a sigh of relief and grinned. “I’m afraid that will have to remain one of their mysteries. So, I take it you are interested in a trade?”

“I am,” he grumbled, taking from his pocket the list of books Tom had provided, “but it can not go forward.”

Tom cocked a brow. “And why is that?”

The Baron rolled forward and past him, going back into his office. Tom frowned at him and packed the books again before he joined him. With one last longing look at the vast library, he turned and closed the doors behind him.

The Baron was back behind his desk, stuffing a black pipe with tobacco.

“I wish I could,” said the old man, “but I cannot afford it.”

“I’m sure we could —”

“No,” he said, “I do not mean fiscally. I mean ethically.”

Tom regarded him without blinking for a moment. He searched the Baron’s mind for truth and found only a nest of brambles. Too many ideas, conflicts and confusion, plans that stood to shatter at the lightest touch. How much was going on with his little bookshop? Was it to do with that ‘auction’ he’d heard about?

“I don’t see how ethics come into it.”

“Nor do I,” chuckled the Baron with a puff. “That’s the problem.”

He fixed his steely gaze on Tom, and then he understood. Distrust. The old man didn’t trust him.

“Ah,” Tom smiled, “that is a pity.” He bowed, the books tight by his side. “Thank you, nevertheless, for your time. I shall be in Rome for at least another month. If your ethics should change, I would be honoured to be invited to see you again.”

“Be sure I let those books leave my office with a heavy heart, Mr. Riddle.”

“Oh, I know, Baron,” he grinned. “But you might yet see them again. And me.”

#Tom Riddle #Tom Riddle x reader #Tom Riddle x OC #Tom Riddle fanfiction #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #sswallow;fanfics #sswallow;made a thing #fanfic;englishclient

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

A/N: I had to write this. I needed Nancy and Steve being parental as well as Steve being bitchy. Everyone's relationship is up in the air except for Robin and Joyce's. Joyce is clearly with Hopper. Robin is always with Vickie because people hate on Vickie for no reason. Anyways, love to all, no matter what you like. Unless you like Billy, then I'm judging you harshly.

Steve was already annoyed because his date backed out at the last minute, but now he was even more annoyed when he found out from Robin that they wouldn't be at Lucas's game. Just for one night, Lucas wasn't asking them to abandon the game completely but to take one night off. Don't they understand that this is what Lucas was afraid of? Not being able to be a jock and to be able to still be a nerd? Of losing his friends? One night wasn't an unreasonable thing to ask for. Sometimes, being a good friend means supporting them when they need it even if you don't like it or understand it, not all the time but sometimes. How do they expect Lucas to compromise for them when they need it if they never do it for him?

Steve was too in his own head to notice that someone else was striding towards the drama room. He arrived at the doors at the same time as Nancy. Their hands reached for the door handle. They stared at each other, and for a moment, Steve had forgotten what he was doing. Nancy looked so beautiful when she wasn't angry at him. Oh, she was angry. Was she angry at the same thing he was? Oh, right, Mike, Dustin, and Erica.

"You mad at the kids for abandoning and replacing Lucas, too?" Steve asked.

"Yes!" Nancy exclaimed.

"Well, let's do this together then, shall we?" Steve asked.

They opened the doors, causing them to bang loudly against the walls. Nancy and Steve stormed in, their hands on their hips.

"Hey, assholes!" Steve and Nancy exclaimed in unison.

They paused and looked at each other in surprise for a moment before turning back to them.

"Oh my God! They're together and they're both pissed!" Dustin shrieked.

"You're damn right we're pissed!" Steve yelled.

"Lucas asked for one night for you guys to be there to support him, and you couldn't give him that?" Nancy asked.

"It's not our fault Lucas went to the dark side!" Mike exclaimed.

"The dark side? So, all people who play basketball are Darth Vader?" Steve asked.

"You know Darth Vader?" Dustin asked.

"Of course, I do! I can be a little nerdy sometimes!" Steve exclaimed.

"He reads comic books, too!" Nancy yelled.

"What? Why didn't you say?!" Dustin asked.

"Whenever I try to join in on your conversations, you brush me off and scoff!" Steve yelled, and then his eyes went soft, as well as his voice. "Do you guys just think of me as a dumb jock who gives you free rides?"

"Nice mom guilt," Nancy whispered to him.

"Thanks," Steve whispered back.

"I mean, really, everything that Steve’s done for you. . .for Lucas, especially in Starcourt. He saved Dustin and Erica's life!" Nancy exclaimed. "And do you just think that all people who enjoy basketball are assholes?!"

"Nice dad guilt," Steve whispered.

"Thanks," Nancy whispered back.

"Hey, Mike, didn't you promise Will that you wouldn't join another party?" Steve asked, snapping his fingers at him.

"That's right, I mean, if D&D means so much to you, then why are you sitting here in another party?" Nancy asked.

Mike opened his mouth and closed it again, unable to find the answer. Dustin looked incredibly guilty. Good, Steve thought. Eddie scowled and stood up.

"Who gives a fuck about some stupid laundry basket game?" Eddie asked. "This is when we play. It's not our fault that Sinclair chose the wrong game."

"Lucas gives a fuck about that laundry basket game!" Steve snapped. "He wasn't asking for you to give up the game completely, he was asking for one fucking night so he that he wouldn't feel like a freak for enjoying both games! He wanted his friends to accept him for that and for someone who stood up on a fucking table to preach against forced conformity - yeah, Robin told me about that - here you are trying to force Lucas and his friends to only comform to D&D!"

Steve was pleased to see that Eddie looked like he had been slapped in the face.

"That's not - I mean - ," Eddie stuttered.

"Yeah, Robin was pretty much agreeing with you until you went after science and band," Steve said. "I mean, are you telling me that all of you have the same exact interests? Do you all like the same food? Do you all like the same music?"

"The problem isn't basketball. The problem is that every group has their assholes but they also have their good people, too," Nancy said, looking at Steve.

"And sometimes people can crossover into other groups," Steve said. "It happens."

"We didn't think Lucas actually enjoyed basketball," Dustin said.

"Yeah, he told us he wanted to stop being bullied," Mike said.

"Hm, and which group was he talking about?" Steve asked.

"What happens when one of your players gets sick?" Nancy asked.

"Well, yeah, we postpone then because it's a good excuse," Gareth said.

"A championship is a good excuse," Nancy replied. "But it's nice to know that you guys aren't completely heartless."

"Heartless?! We're not the ones beating the shit out of people because of what they like!" Eddie snapped.

"No, you're just letting them know that they're replaceable if they decide they need to explore other options," Steve said, and then he scoffed. "Can't believe I ever had a crush on you."

Eddie's eyes widened as the whole table gasped dramatically.

"You're fucking with me," Eddie said.

"No, I'm not," Steve said. "I like men and women. I know that liking more than one thing is a hard concept for you to grasp."

"That's not, I mean, you can like whatever you want, but liking basketball and D&D is different than that," Eddie frowned.

"I don't see how," Nancy said, shaking her head. "Do you guys play every day of the week?"

"Well, no," Eddie said.

"Well, if you don't play every day of the week, then it's not going to be the end of the world if you wait just one more day?!" Nancy asked.

"Okay, enough of this. I don't care if you guys come or not, but Dustin, Erica, and Mike, you guys are coming to the game to support your friend," Steve said clapping his hands.

"But - " Mike started to say.

"You heard your mother! I mean, your Steve! You heard Steve!" Nancy exclaimed, shaking her head again.

Mike and Dustin ducked their heads as they gathered their things. Erica held her head up high as she did the same thing.

"I didn't do anything wrong, they tricked me!" Erica exclaimed.

"Erica!" Nancy scolded.

As they were leaving with the kids, Steve overheard one of them - Frankie? - speak up.

"I wasn't ever going to say anything, but I, uh, kind of like watching basketball," Frankie said.

"Fine, fine! We'll go to the goddamn game," Eddie said.

It didn't take long for them to catch up with the group.

"Decided to join us assholes, huh?" Steve asked.

"Yeah, look, you were right, and Nancy was right. . .it's not going to be the end of the world if we wait one more day," Eddie said. "And of course, I know that Sinclair isn't going to turn out like those assholes especially if he has the support of his friends."

"Yeah, well, I'm not the one you need to apologize to," Steve said.

"Yeah, that's true. . . So, you have a crush on me?" Eddie asked.

"Had. As in past tense," Steve replied.

"Yeah, I suppose I deserve that," Eddie said. "I am curious to know if you are seeing anyone, though."

"I just tore you a new one," Steve said, looking at him in confusion.

"I know," Eddie grinned.

"Well, I'm kind of seeing someone," Steve said.

"Kind of?"

"It's on and off."

"Is he being intentionally vague?" Eddie asked Nancy.

"I can't say," she grinned.

"By the way, was I little too bitchy in there?" Steve asked Nancy.

"No, you were perfect. I know someone else who would have loved it like a certain someone did," Nancy said.

"Okay, you two aren't bad assholes, just annoyingly vague assholes," Eddie said, and they both giggled. "This is going to be a long game."

The game wasn't so bad as Eddie had thought it was going to be, especially when Chrissy jumped up and waved excitedly at the sight of him. He eventually got caught up with it when Lucas was sent in to play. He was glad he did come when he saw the pure joy on the young man's face when he saw almost everyone he cared about was there to cheer him on. When Lucas scored the winning shot, Eddie hugged Nancy and Steve both tightly. He needed to be reminded every once in a while that it's not just about him and what he likes. He started Hellfire to give lost sheep like Lucas a place to belong, and he almost ruined that because of a few bad eggs who happened to like basketball. Besides, people needed to know that just because you have different interests doesn't mean you have to be enemies.

"Thank you for making me come," Eddie told them. "I would have regretted it."

A week or so later. . .

"So, Nance, what were you saying about it not being the end of the world if I postponed the game for a day?" Eddie asked with a cheeky grin as he laid in his hospital bed.

"We stopped it before it could happen," Nancy rolled her eyes. "Do you regret going to Lucas's basketball game?"

Eddie grinned as he thought about the pure joy on Lucas's face.

"Nah!"

"Well, no one stayed dead, so there's that!" Chrissy grinned.

"Well, Hopper's still dead," Steve said.

"Oh, yeah," Chrissy frowned.

Suddenly, there came a knocking at Eddie's hospital room door. Robin got up to answer it.

"Steve, you were wrong. Hopper is very much alive!" Robin exclaimed. "Holy shit!"

Robin let Hopper and Joyce into the room. Moments later, Vickie skidded in behind them.

"Hey, guys, did you hear? Someone said they saw Chief Hopper wandering the hospital!" Vickie said and glanced at Hopper for a moment. "Hiya, Chief! Isn't that crazy, Robin? He's supposed to be dead, right?!"

"It takes her a moment," Robin said. "She gets there eventually."

"Oh my God! . . . Eddie, is that your mom?"

#stranger things #eddie munson #stranger things s4 #steve harrington #joseph quinn #eddie stranger things #eddie munson lives #nancy wheeler #lucas sinclair #lucas deserves better #lucas sinclair appreciation #steve harrington being a mom #nancy wheeler being a dad #dustin henderson #mike wheeler #the party #chrissy cunningham #stranger things vickie #robin x vickie #rovickie #steve & robin #platonic stobin #platonic ronance #platonic buckingham #jim hopper #joyce byers #with a little bit of #jopper #everyone else is up in the air #rueleigh writes

[david-watts]

I will not fall into the trap of rewriting everything because my writing skills have improved since starting the work

#like it's now partially frustration at my previous lack of direction and lack of complex narrative purpose #which yes technically with this bit I don't actually need to have that but I would like to and can see what I can do #it doesn't help that the time I have spent writing this seems to have all smashed together into a big knot of sameness #I can do better. I want to do better. #I also don't know if keith's the right character for this. but it's his story he evolved with this story #and I also fear that if I change the character I will not use keith for anything and I don't want to because he's just a guy!! #he's just a guy. #and also I do think the character who would replace him would yet again be. very similar to the characters of kester #aka Whipping Boy (the shit he goes through man.) as well as snowy/teddy/jimmy/arthur (bitch syndrome) #it's mostly about the similarities to kester. and a couple of other characters you haven't seen yet because those stories are new #I'll tell you their names! one's raven he's a terrible dad (no really) one's just known as The Kid for now #because they're a kid. and they're edgy in terms of costume. #actually those stories and their specific reasons for being the way they are would make them distinct. it's just mostly. kester #and if you know why this would be you know. #sigh. it's boiling down to three things. #1. the fact I keep restarting projects because in the process of creating them my skill level increases to the point where I'm not satisfie #and keep starting over which is a death loop. it's something ik you should never do with comics n so on so why I'm even considering #it with writing I don't even know #2. I fear I will abandon keith as a character if I do what I'm beginning to think I need to #and 3. I fear the character who needs to appear in the story in its evolving direction is too similar to another character

[bunny-yan]

so for the yandere king, will he ever get married to someone who isn’t reader?

He’ll hold it off for as long as he can, but don’t expect him not to take it out on you if he complains about it and you don’t give him the reaction he was expecting.  TW: mentions violence, domestic abuse, mentions somnophilia, power imbalance, minors DNI

—

You’d gotten your hopes up. 

It’d been such a long time since you felt anything like it, but with whispers around every corner speaking of the king’s possible marriage,  you couldn’t help but entertain thoughts of freedom, of a life without the tyrant you called a king. 

He had to produce an heir. It was an unavoidable duty his position demanded. The kingdom needed to be left with a future should anything unfortunate happen to their oh, so beloved king. 

Sometimes, you wished that his misfortune would happen by your hands. If only to give him a taste of what you had to endure, but you shoved such thoughts away. It was harder to keep your composure when you entertained ideas you’d never be allowed to act upon. Or if you tried would cause more harm than good.

Others looked smug as you passed them in the long hallways, claiming you’d be thrown away by the king as soon as he married, and you prayed to the goddess that they were right. That he’d marry someone he could love and obsess over. That his violent affection would be directed at someone else for a change. Did it make you cruel, wishing that someone else would take your place? A part of you lacked the ability to care. If they were so desperate to tear you down, not realizing the hell disguised as paradise, you would be more than willing to let them have a taste of it. 

The king’s marriage. 

When the two of you were younger, he promised to hold the grandest wedding the kingdom had ever seen. He’d spare no expense and it would be remembered as the happiest days of your lives. Remembered as the day of your union, the day you would promise to spend eternity together. You supposed that after killing all of your family members and gaining ownership of you, it didn’t really matter one way or the other how it happened, but you felt a small sense of relief that the monstrous event had been delayed.

The talk you had to endure was bad enough, but you could only imagine what the nobles would have to say if the King were to make your union official. You wouldn’t be the one who achieved every servant’s fairytale, no. You would be the peasant living above their station. The whore who sunk their claws into their sweet prince. The tramp who didn’t know their place.

You would dread every display of affection he would shower you with in public, knowing that despite his insistence of you remaining by his side, others too afraid to show their disdain in front of the King, there would undoubtedly be a moment where they would find you alone and without your shield you were vulnerable to their contempt.

But the idea of him living out that fantasy with another shifted something in you. You felt a slight upturn of your lips at the thought of him standing at the altar with a faceless figure as you packed what little things you truly owned and ran and ran and ran as far as your legs could carry you. The dull ache you’d become familiar with would burst, and you’d cry freely, laugh hysterically, and smile as if you had never forgotten how. That was what paradise sounded like. 

Doors slamming open, the strange emotions fled from your body, replaced with instant unease at the sight of the king’s furious face. 

You stood quickly to bow and greet the head of your kingdom. 

“Leave us,” he said. Two words dismissing everyone from your chambers, holding so much power you feared they didn’t know what monster they were abandoning you to face alone. As you’d always had. 

He sat on the plush couch with a heavy sigh, unbuttoning his shirt as he gave the order, “Pour me a drink.”

You didn’t hesitate to meet his demands. You got two glasses, knowing that he’d push you to join him, along with the liquor your Kingdom was famous for and he favored on particularly stressful days. Setting them down on the table, you tried to ignore the set eyes watching you as you filled one glass and left the other, hoping that he wouldn’t notice or at least be too preoccupied to comment on your lack of a desire to drink at this hour. 

He said nothing. 

You picked up the glass, careful not to spill it as you handed it to your king. He took it from your hands, but his other snatched your wrist as you retreated back, making you tense. The king threw the full glass back as if you poured a shot before slamming the glass on the table. He wiped the dribble of alcohol that escaped from his lips as he pulled you to sit on his lap. 

This was dangerous. He was sober now, but you weren’t sure how long that would last after drinking enough to keep him wasted for the rest of the day. How long would it take to kick in? You’d pour him the cup, believing he’d sip it as usual while entangling you in a verbal joust. He would ask impossibly complex questions disguised as basic pleasantries, and you would struggle to find the right thing to say. Because there was always a right thing to say. Something he wanted to hear to stroke the fragile ego drowning in his fear. You had waves of carefully hidden bruises as proof. 

“Pour me another,” he demanded, the harsh tone making your hair stand on end. He really must’ve heard something he didn’t like. 

“My King,” you began, timidly, as you turned to face him. It wouldn’t bode well for you if he was too drunk to remember what he had done the next day. His memory was truth, and if he didn’t remember putting his hands on you, if he didn’t remember the violence he wrought night after night, it didn’t happen. “May I pour you some water instead?”

The hand on your waist was stroking your side casually. His motions didn’t falter. 

Hopefully, he didn’t take offense. 

You were clear on your station. You were to serve his every whim and desire. An outright refusal wasn’t wise. Resting a hand on his arm, you knew to keep your gaze down. Keeping contact, unchallenging, all things he preferred in moments like these. 

“How considerate,” he said, your body sagging in relief at the concession. 

You were almost too eager to pull away from his grip, but he let you go without a word, watching you retrieve the pitcher and another glass before you came to pour him a glass. 

You handed it to him and much like before, you were pulled into his lap as he sipped on the small offering you were grateful he accepted. You were afraid to hope that his temperament would be manageable.

Before you learned of the engagement, you wondered if you’d unintentionally done something to make Idris angry. 

It was little things at first. 

Snapping at you for getting up from dinner without his express permission, grabbing you harshly if you pulled away from any form of affection he so generously offered. When he’d wake you up, it was usually in the form of violent affections, his touch lacking any tenderness or care that he often liked to pretend still existed between the two of you. 

He only realized that he was treating you differently when you found the courage to ask him if you’d done something to gain his ire. You couldn’t think of anything you may have done to make him upset. It’d been a while since your last escape attempt. Knowing there was nothing and no one waiting outside of the palace for you, you didn’t really have a desire to escape. Better to remain with the person who’d travel to the ends of the earth to trap you by their side, right? 

Regardless, he looked surprised by your question and you discovered he didn’t even realize how harshly he’d been treating you. Projecting his anger on you because you reminded him of the Duke’s daughter and how their intended engagement would ruin everything he planned to build with you. 

“I assume you’ve heard by now,” he said carefully, the glass of water resting on his lips as he watched you. 

You didn’t know whether to play dumb or openly admit you learned of his vassal’s plan to marry him to someone with a legitimate background. He was obviously unhappy about it, so if you mentioned that you had learned, he might shift the conversation to ask instead why you remained silent. To ask about your feelings on the matter and when you didn’t show the same amount of disdain, he’d mistake your feelings for what they were. 

Hope. 

A newfound hope that you had found a way to escape from underneath his grip, even if it was temporary. You could only imagine the anger he’d display then. 

If you pretended you didn’t know what he was talking about, he’d give a knowing smile as he narrowed his eyes. Calling you his clueless lover, the hand at your waist would squeeze into your side, his fingernails threatening to pierce your skin as he buried his head in your neck. Harsh laughter would brush across your skin and your body would be so tense, waiting for the moment that skin would be met with teeth. Met with pain. 

Thankfully, you didn’t have to say anything. He always did love hearing himself speak. 

“Have you seen the Duke at the balls I’ve hosted? He’s hoping to gain an alliance with the imperial family by forcing me to marry his daughter in exchange for his backing and the steel his family mines in order to make weapons.”

His fingers drummed against your side as he took a sip of his water. 

You felt inclined to say something to break this silence, to give a show of how upset or angry or disappointed or sad or whatever the hell you were supposed to be feeling so he felt as if you were torn up about this situation and not hoping the Duke would move faster with the marriage arrangements. 

“How arrogant,” you said simply. 

He smiled, setting down his glass as he wrapped his arms around your waist. “Those were my thoughts exactly. I managed to push it off, but I can’t see the Duke giving up any time soon.” He sighed, leaning into your touch when you began to scratch the back of his neck. You were listening. You cared about what he was saying. You sympathized with his plight and offered the reprieve you could. To say you could do more was putting it lightly, but you would get away with doing the bare minimum for as long as you could. 

“It makes me think of how unfair this is to you.”

You wanted to laugh. 

Unfair was forcing you into the position of his concubine in the first place. Unfair was ignoring your consistent refusals and forcing you to remain by his side. Unfair was the treatment you endured in the position you never asked to be in, the abuse you suffered, the constant torment you faced, the aching loneliness at being able to talk honestly with no one, the grief at the loss of your family—unfair was putting it lightly. 

It was hard to hear coming from the culprit. 

“It got me thinking that if I’m eventually forced to go through with this wedding despite my lack of enthusiasm, why not have a wedding I’d enjoy first?”

Dread pinched your stomach. 

“Do you remember the promise we made when we were younger?”

No.

No, no, no, no, no. 

Not another shackle. Yet another excuse to be stuck in this place with no way out. 

“Your Highness-”

“I promised you that we’d have the grandest wedding the kingdom had ever seen. That you would walk upon a path of flowers that would lead you to my side, and one of the knights can walk you down the aisle since-.”

You felt nauseous. 

“Anyways, I think I’ve been putting it off for too long and it’s the perfect event to put my vassals in their place.” 

This couldn’t be happening. You shook your head, not wanting to imagine what life would be like after you became… what? What did he intend on calling you if you were no longer his concubine? What did it matter if your treatment would remain spiteful regardless of how many escorts he replaced by your side. Any hope you had about escaping would be snatched away and your every move would be reported back to the King. You supposed he didn’t botherbefore because there really was nowhere for you to go where people didn’t know who you were, but with this new title, this new position, he would shorten your leash to show just how much of a loving couple the two of you were. 

“What’s wrong, my love?” he asked, a warning in his voice. “You don’t look happy.”

“No,” you said, swallowing the lump in your throat. It brought tears to your eyes when the impediment remained, threatening to choke you as you struggled to hold them back. “I’m overjoyed.” you said, burying your head in his shoulder so he couldn’t see that these weren’t happy tears. That you weren’t crying at what you would gain from marrying the King, the most sought after “bachelor” in your kingdom. You were crying at everything that you would lose, that would continue to be taken away from you. Demanded of you. Your peace, your love, happiness, and the joy you were so desperate to convince him you felt in this moment. 

Not that he really cared in the first place. 

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x you #male yandere #yandere x gn reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #ask #yandere male #gn reader #yan!idris #yandere king

[porcelana-r0ta]

let the mourners come

Title: let the mourners come

Ao3 Link: Only available to Ao3 users

Word Count: 3045

Summary:

It started, as most things do with Danny Fenton, as a joke.

It ended, as most things do with Jazz Fenton, with things better than they were before.

xxXxx

When Danny finally gets a Twitter, it’s during Elon Musk’s shit show takeover. He’s able to secure a good Twitter handle thanks to people leaving en masse and fleeing to Tumblr. He knows about things that happen outside of Amity Park (he is terminally online rather than chronically, after all), but he still doesn’t think anything of using @TheJoker as his handle, even knowing about Gotham City’s clown troubles. It’s just going to be a shitpost account, anyway, one that dances in the chaos of Elon’s electronic graveyard. Nothing will come about him using @TheJoker when he’s merely posting things like, “Just grew a new row of teeth!!! very pointy but can’t go to the dentist anymore bc they might turn me in to the giw.”

So Danny honestly never foresaw The Actual Real Joker breaking out of Arkham Asylum all the way in Gotham City, New Jersey, and deciding to get a Twitter account to terrorize people online as well as offline. And he definitely never foresaw The Joker @’ing him on Twitter, demanding that Danny change his Twitter handle. But, well. Here he was. 

[Image Description: A screenshot of a Twitter reply chain, starting with the real Joker @'ing Danny's Twitter account, which uses TheJoker as his Twitter handle. The Joker, who has a verified account, demands that Danny "change your handle", and Danny replies with a simple "no" followed by red heart emoji. The Joker Tweets, "Kid you don't know who you're fucking with," to which Danny replies, "Ye I do ur some dude w/ poor fashion sense and lame jokes. Maybe try badjokesbyjeff bc originality is ugly on u" followed by a shrugging emoticon. The Joker responds, "Check your DMs." Danny then responds, "Perf [happy emoji surrounded by hearts] I've sent you a time and place. Can't wait to beat the shit out of another disgrace of a clown." Someone with the username "Gregg rulz ok" responds to Danny's last Tweet, "Bro is absolutely RATIOING the joker but the clown keeps responding [three skull emojis] embarrassing frfr too bad he's gonna die for realsies".

End ID]

Danny is quick to respond and then makes even quicker work of roasting The Joker. This soon results in The Joker DMing him his IP Address and a creative threat. Still, Danny isn’t about to cow to a clown with no respect for the art of clowning. He replies to the DM: 

Cool, meet me at the Nasty Burger parking lot in Amity Park IL on tuesday at 2am

The response from The Joker is quick:

Fourteen year olds are too confident these days

Danny rolls his eyes and ignores the influx of notifications from Twitter, and instead makes another Tweet.

Imagine beefing with someone over a Twitter handle lol acc so embarrassing for him

He blackens his screen and stretches in bed, letting his spine pop more than what is humanly possible. He runs his tongue over that second row of teeth, his lips curling into a grin. 

xxXxx

Gothamite Twitter is blowing up over The Joker’s social media beef with a faceless shitposting account. Jason, upon finding out about it, has a series of reactions: first, he looks up the shitposter and follows them. Then, he finds the actual chain between the poster and The Joker, and his vision goes vibrant green when he sees that The Joker’s profile picture is of the second Robin, beaten and swollen in an abandoned building in Ethiopia. 

When his vision clears and he can breathe without wanting to kill, he likes the shitposter’s replies, and he calls the Replacement to see if the other Bats know already.

“We know,” Tim says in lieu of a hello when the ringing cuts out. “We’re working on it.”

“What, you think anything’s gonna come of it?” But even as Jason asks, he already knows the answer. The Joker is unhinged and once he’s threatened something, he’ll follow up unless he comes up with a “funnier” option. 

Tim’s breath hitches, and he says, “I’ve hacked their DMs. Joker knows the kid’s IP address and sent it to him. He knows everything from that address alone.”

He pauses in the middle of suiting up, “Kid?”

He hears Tim swallow, “Yes, kid. He’s fifteen. And he gave The Joker a specific time and place to meet up to fight. In his own hometown.”

“Are— are you fucking kidding me?” 

“No. B is already calling Nightwing. We’re taking the Batwing to Illinois.”

“Jesus fuck. I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Hood, I—”

“Shut up, I’m already in my gear.” He hangs up without waiting for a response. 

He refreshes the Twitter feed and barks a laugh at the newest Tweet:

Jason Todd votes, and the Red Hood leaves his safe house. 

xxXxx

A commercial flight to Illinois takes around two and a half hours. In the Batwing, they get there in an hour, and don’t even have to worry about the drive from Chicago to a small speck of a town like Amity Park. They spend the quick flight learning everything they can about Daniel James Fenton, the owner of the Twitter account, and they can all sense the growing tension from (and between) Bruce and Jason.

But, well. Jason doesn’t care. Let them be uncomfortable. It doesn’t compare to being ripped back into life and finding out his dad didn’t even get justice for his death. 

When they reach town, it doesn’t take long to find the Fentons’ home. This is in part because Amity Park is a very navigable town, and because of the giant neon sign proclaiming FentonWorks on the side of the building. 

“Is that a blimp?” Dick asks. “Why don’t we have a blimp?” 

“Where would we keep it?” the Demon Brat counters practically. “Goliath takes up all of the Cave’s extra space.” 

Jason rolls his eyes and knows veins would be popping out of Bruce’s forehead if it weren’t for the cowl. 

“Let’s go,” Bruce says instead, and they all make their way to the house. 

Nightwing, predictably, goes for the front door approach. Jason rolls his eyes as he takes one of the second-story windows and finds his way downstairs.

He gets down at the same time that a redheaded girl answers the door and nearly slams it in Dick’s face. Jason has to suppress snickers at the sight. 

“Wait, wait, wait, are you Jazz Fenton? We need to talk to your brother!” 

“...We?” she asks, then tenses and turns around to see the rest of the Bats in the hall behind her. Dick takes the opportunity to step in completely, closing the door behind him. “Wha— what’s going on?”

“Where are your parents, Jazz?” Bruce makes every question sound like a demand. Jason rolls his eyes from behind his mask—way to put the teenager at ease, B.

“Why do you need to know?” Her voice has a defensive edge to it. “What do you want with Danny?” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Nightwing comforts. “He didn’t do anything too bad, just said some dumb things online. It’s not his fault.” 

This relaxes her, and her shoulders begin un-hunching. “Oh, s-so what’d he do?”

“He foolishly challenged The Joker to a battle in a ‘Nasty Burger’ parking lot tonight.” 

“You could’ve had some more tact, Robin,” Nightwing scolds. But the Demon Spawn just crosses his arms. 

“He did what?” Jazz shrieks. “Like, The Joker from Gotham? That Joker?”

“Are there others?” Red Hood comments dryly. 

Her face goes through several different emotions—disbelief, rage, fear, and then rage again, “DANIEL JAMES FENTON! GET DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!” 

There’s a thumping noise, and then frantic footsteps down the stairs. 

“Wha? Who died?” asks the figure of a tiny fifteen-year-old, smaller than even Jason had been when he was alone with The Joker. He’s tiny and lanky. Zero muscle definition. Eye bags to rival the Replacement’s. Something ripples in the Pit, deep and distinct, but he can’t name what causes it.

Oh, this kid is so dead. 

“Danny,” says Jazz calmly while Danny blinks uncomprehendingly at the heroes in their hallway. She is solemn when she says, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to kill you now.” 

“What did I do?” 

She stares at him, “Why have you scheduled a fight with The Joker?” 

“Oh, that.” He rubs the back of his neck, “Is he taking that seriously?”

“Of course he is, Danny! It’s The Joker! That’s what he does! He can’t differentiate between a joke and reality! He would tear off his own face for the bit!” 

“Oof,” is all Danny can muster. He digs his phone out and starts typing before Jazz yanks it out his hand. 

“You’re fucking TWEETING about this?” Jazz asks incredulously, and Hood’s hackles rise. She even reads the Tweet aloud, “‘Just found out @TheJ0ker is being fr about fighting me. Sad but i can take a clown.’”

“I was gonna add ‘i’ve done it b4,’ but like the letter and the number four. But yeah.” 

“You’re grounded forever.” Danny opens his mouth to protest, but the look Jazz cuts at him is so scathing that he shuts his mouth. Hood is reluctantly impressed—she had what could be cultivated into a fantastic Batglare. She pockets the phone, “You’re never getting this phone back. Taunting The Joker to Amity? Have you any brain cells? What if he brings Joker gas with him, huh? Or any of his goons? What if he starts hurting other people? Have you thought any of this through?” 

Danny’s face goes from tired to chastised, his lips drawing into a frown, especially at the mention of other people. 

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t think that he’d take it so seriously.”

“He sent you your IP Address.”

“I thought that was just a random string of numbers?”

“Oh my god,” Jazz despairs. “Oh my god. Grounded forever. See, I know you're lying to me. I know you're lying because Tucker, the nerdiest tech nerd to have ever been born, is your best friend.”

He rubs the back of his neck, “I tune him out?”

“You’re still lying to me?” Jazz scoffs and turns to Batman, “Do whatever you want with him. I’m not going to defend him from this.” 

“Hey!” complained her brother, but Batman just continued on, “Where are your parents?”

“They’re in Sweden for a science convention,” Jazz answers. “They left this morning.” 

Damn, Jason curses to himself. 

“Jazz, seriously. You’re not gonna let Batman kill me, right?” 

“Do you want to be cremated or buried, Danny?” Jazz asks blasély, and Danny gulps, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. 

“It’s my Twitter handle,” he mutters petulantly, and Jason can’t believe the gall of this kid. Or maybe stupidity. Audacity’s a good one, too. “If he wanted it, he should’ve gotten it first. And he gives clowns a bad name.” 

“Not the clown thing again.” Jazz digs her palms into her eyes, sighs, then turns to the heroes. “He has a whole clown thing ever since Circus Gothica came to town and robbed a bunch of jewelry stores.” 

Danny gestures wildly with his hands, as if demonizing clowns was the real problem and not the egomaniacal mass murderer who wanted to murder him for his Twitter handle, “Clowning is an art form, Jazz, and people like Freakshow and The Joker make a mockery of the very serious societal statements that clowns make!” 

All of the Bats very carefully Did Not look at Nightwing, who has made very similar rants on quiet patrols.

“You are never leaving this house again,” she says serenely. “And I’m unplugging the wifi router.”

“You would punish even yourself?”

“Oh, little brother. I would watch the world burn if it meant knocking sense into your thick skull.” 

“Okay, Christ,” Red Hood finally interrupted the siblings’ melodrama. An unyielding redheaded girl and a mouthy black-haired, blue-eyed boy? They’d fit in a little too well back at the Manor, so Jason needs to cut this shit out before Bruce’s bat-doption instincts start tingling. “Stop. Just… Christ. Stop. Is this how you always interact with each other?”

“Sometimes there’s explosions,” Danny pipes up, a cheeky grin on his face. 

Jazz doesn’t dispute it. 

Fucking hell. God damn it. I can’t. I just can’t. 

Batman doesn’t give anything away, “Robin and Red Robin will be staying here with you until Nightwing, Hood, and I apprehend The Joker. First, we’re going to check the perimeter.” 

“Oooh, I get to give the lab tour!” 

Lab?

“No lab. You’re grounded. You’ll only be in there for cleaning duty now.”

“Wh– hey! No fair!” 

“What’s this lab you two are talking about?��� Red Robin asks before Jazz can rip into her brother again. 

She sighs, “Our parents’ lab. I’ll show you, but someone needs to stay with Danny.” 

“You act like I’m gonna run off and start World War III….”

“I wonder why,” she says sarcastically.

Batman nods to Robin, who nods back, and the rest of them follow Jazz out of the living room to a metal reinforced door. She types in a code—Jason catches the numbers 03-14-99. There’s an assenting beep, and she opens the door, flicking on the lights and leading them down into what is apparently a basement lab. 

A stone settles in Red Hood’s stomach, cold and heavy. 

The basement is large, likely the floor size of the entire building. There are several work tables, filled with miscellaneous blueprints and spare parts and weapons and tools. Against the farthest wall is another armored door, but what draws Hood’s—and the entire Batclan’s—attention is the south wall, where a circular hole in the wall was glowing a toxic Pit green. 

The stone shattered in his stomach, splintering into his body. Is it harder or easier to breathe? Jason can’t tell. 

“Wow,” says Nightwing. His voice is cheerful, but Jason can feel the stress beneath it. “Do I even want to know?” 

Wasn’t this supposed to just be typical Joker bullshit?

“Our parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz explains nonchalantly, walking further into the lab. “As in, ghost biologists.” She pauses at one of the work tables, picking up a green and white thermos. Pretty boring, considering the rest of their surroundings. 

“Ghosts.” Red Robin’s voice is carefully neutral. 

“Ghosts,” Jazz reaffirms. “I know. I thought they were crazy at first, too. But I can prove it, if you like.” Then, without waiting for a yes or no, she untwists the thermos, and there’s a bright flash of white, and a whole entire body sprouting out of it. 

“WHOO! I’M FREE!” cries the…being, pale and floating and lanky and entirely too big to have fit into a fucking thermos, of all the fucking things. “....And not in the Realms? Wait.” He stops stretching, descending to rest closer to the ground, but still hovering a few inches from the floor. He’s got green eyes and lifeless (ha) blond hair. He’s wearing a trenchcoat and a green skull necklace. Overall, he looks like the type of thug he’d arrest in the Bowery. 

“Hello, Johnny.” The man’s—ghost’s?—eyes flicker around each person in the room, his gaze becoming more and more confused and panicked as he takes in each Bat, before settling on Jazz Fenton. 

“Why are the fucking Bats here?” 

“The Joker’s coming to Amity,” she says. The ghost’s eyes widen. Jazz tilts her head, “How many ghosts would you say passed away in Gotham, Johnny?” 

As Jason and the Bats tense, this Johnny guy lets out a wicked laugh, “Oh, Doll, you have the best surprises. Why did we break up?” 

“You did try to have my body possessed. That ruins any good relationship.” 

“Man, but Kitty’ll love this. Thanks for letting me out of Soup Time, Doll.” He floats higher, “Any advice?” 

She throws him the phone she’d confiscated from Danny and he catches it easily, “Everything’s on here. Have fun.”

“What exactly are you planning?” Batman scowls. 

Johnny laughs, “Aww, don’t worry, Bats. Peace and love on Planet Earth, or whatever. We’ll make it quick.” Then, as the Bats leap into action as one, Johnny turns invisible, the Batarangs passing harmlessly through where he’d once been floating. 

“Where did he go?” Batman turns his scowl, angrier than ever, to Jazmin Fenton, who stares back unflinchingly. “He’s going to solve the problem.”

“You mean he’s going to kill The Joker.”

She shakes her head, “Oh, no. That’d just be asking for him to come back as a ghost. Could you imagine a Joker with powers like invisibility, intangibility, flight, and more? Johnny can be impulsive, but he’s smart. None of them will kill The Joker.” 

“Then what are they going to do?” Red Robin asks. 

“My parents are ectobiologists,” Jazz repeats from earlier. “But I am more of an anthro-ectopologist. I am concerned with the study of ectoplasmic beings’ societies and cultures. And while it is very ancient, there is protocol in the Infinite Realms—that is, where you go when you die, should you remain after death—to prosecute living criminals who have killed a certain number of Realms citizens. So you don’t have to worry about your moral code, Batman. The Joker will be tried by a much fairer court than Gotham can ever hope to have. No offense.” 

Jason stares at Jazz Fenton, who he’d pegged as the sane sibling. He’s not so sure now, but he can’t say he hates it.

“And how do we know it’s a fair trial?” Nightwing asks. 

She waves her hand, “Oh, as Gotham’s Knights, you’re key witnesses. I’m sure you’ll be summoned to testify. You will see then. And don’t worry about your secret identities—the dead don’t care much for that sort of thing.” 

“So if this is a ‘fair’ trial or whatever, The Joker’s going to be locked up forever?” Jason asks. “I mean, that’s the only option for shit like him.” 

Batman sends him a look, but he ignores it. 

“Well, there are several different punishments that could be deemed appropriate, but he’ll never be able to set foot in the mortal world again, yes.” 

Jason Todd grins, “Oh, I’m glad your brother’s stupid, kid.” 

She sighs, long-suffering, “Well, that makes one of us. Still, there’s more important things we should discuss now that you’re here.”

“More important than The Joker trying to kill your brother over a Twitter handle?” Red Robin asks doubtfully. 

Jazz smiles, sharp and dangerous, and asks, ”Have you ever heard of the Anti-Ecto Acts?” 

xxXxx

Several months later when Danny is finally un-grounded, he Tweets his last three Tweets before Twitter can become the foolishly named X: 

Imagine bullying the Joker so hard that it not only lands the Joker in ghost prison BUT it also leads to major law reform in the US lmao someone make the domino effect meme about this pls

Y’allre replying to me with thanks like i did anything other than be an internet troll. My sister literally manipulated local, federal, and interdimensional law so you should be thanking her. 

i just a babie 🥺🥺🥺

xxXxx

Thanks for reading! This is the whole fic, so pls do not ask for tags! Thank you :)

#dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #dpxdc #danny phantom #danny fenton #jazz fenton #jason todd #batman #fanfiction #fanfic #ao3 #the joker #johnny 13 #severely ooc

[itsswritten]

gone.

Pairing: Azriel x fem reader

Word Count: 2K (It's just a little drabble really)

Warnings: Angst, feelings of not being good enough, unrequited love, rejection, read Az's bonus chapter as this is kind of a different ending to it!

Summary: Sometimes it take's heartbreak to move on.

You’re not too sure how you found yourself here. Ensnared in a moment you shouldn’t have been a part of. Pressed against the wall, you couldn't escape the damning truth unfolding before you.

Fate, in its cruel irony, had thrust you into the heart of your deepest fear. It seemed as though destiny itself was spelling out the bitter reality—you would never be his, he would never desire you.

The gift box, wrapped in a serene shade of blue, felt like an anchor against your chest, the weight of it crushing against your heart and yet anchoring you to this spot all the same. With trembling hands, you clutched it tightly, your other hand clasped around your mouth in an attempt to contain the tumult of emotions threatening to spill over. You hadn't intended to intrude, only to find Azriel this Solstice and share your heart with him. After years of wrestling with your feelings, you had finally summoned the courage to confess to your best friend, hoping that maybe he might reciprocate.

But it was a futile dream. How foolish you had been to imagine that you would be the one to replace his infatuation with Mor.

No of course it wouldn’t be you, for hundreds of years you hadn’t been able to steer him from his longing of Mor. It had to be another, the lovely Elain Archeron.

The scent of their arousal hung heavy in the air. You should have moved, but you were frozen in place. Your eyes glued on their figures as you watched them draw one another close. It was as if the Gods were forcing you to accept your reality– you would never be good enough for him. 

You swallowed hard, stopping the nauseating sensation rising up your throat. You were losing all control here, completely succumbing to your emotions. You weren’t sure what you would do if you actually saw them kiss.

At the top of the stairs, Rhys suddenly stood, his fury palpable as he observed the scene below. A silent exchange passed between him and his brother, you had known Rhys and Azriel for so long that you were always aware of their mind conversations. However, you never knew what was said. But by Azriels indifference, you could tell it wasn’t good.

Before Rhys winnowed away, his gaze found you. Your figure hidden in the shadows, his expression faltering as his eyes locked with yours, confusion spread across his features and then pain– pain for you.

You hadn’t realised till then, how your salty tears had slipped down your face. Wetting the floor beneath you. How they had revealed how you truly felt, something you thought you’d always kept so well hidden.

And perhaps here in your weakest moment, your own mental shields hadn’t been the strongest. Your anguish spilling over to whoever was able to feel.

With a fierce swipe, you brushed the tears away.

You watched as Azriel left to find Rhys, leaving a bewildered and confused Elain to collect herself before she ran out of the foyer. It was then the emotions overcame you.

You sank down against the wall, the tears flowing freely now, your quiet sobs echoing through the empty corridor. You had been so foolish.

You had seen the signs, noticed the bond growing between Azriel and the middle Archeron sister. Yet, you had dismissed it as nothing more than Azriel's innate kindness, his dedication to helping Elain adjust to Fae life like the rest of you had also supported. It never occurred to you that his actions held some deeper meaning.

And Rhys's fleeting glance had only added to your humiliation. To how stupid you had been. You didn't need his pity or anyone else's. 

You already hated yourself enough for your naivety and foolishness.

The gift box lay abandoned beside you, a painful reminder of your misplaced affection. With trembling hands, you tore off the ribbon and unwrapped it, revealing the carefully chosen present inside. It was a handmade sheath for Azriel’s dagger, Truth Teller. Beautifully made from leather, with six subtle stones set along the top.

Purple, for Rhys. Red for Cassian. Blue for Azriel. Followed by Violet for Amren, Crimson for Mor and Sapphire for you. The original six. His first found-family.

As you traced the stones with trembling fingers, memories of simpler times flooded your mind. The dynamic of your found family had shifted with the arrival of the Archeron sisters, whom you loved dearly. But their presence had irrevocably altered the delicate balance you had once cherished with Azriel and the others. You hadn’t realised how their entry into your life would change so much. 

Maybe it was your fault for thinking it wouldn’t.

~~~

Azriel snarled softly. 

"Snarl all you want." Rhys leaned back in his chair. "But if I see you panting after her again, I'll make you regret it."  

Rhys had rarely threatened punishment or pulled rank. It stunned Azriel enough that it knocked him from his rage. 

Rhys jerked his chin toward the door. "Get out. And while you’re at it you owe y/n an apology for making her privy to your foolish actions tonight."  

Azriel faltered a second. You had seen him? He hadn’t even noticed, his shadows had always vanished when in the company of Elain and they hadn’t notified him of your presence. In fact they rarely ever did. You were the one person who his shadows had always seemed to favour.

Fuck.

You had witnessed his reckless behaviour. It was a jarring revelation. You were one of his longest standing friends. There was no doubt in his mind you would be just as livid as Rhys for his actions.

Azriel tucked in his wings and left without another word, stalking through the house, searching for you.

Finding you in the library, Azriel approached you with a gentle call of your name, his voice filled with remorse. Your back was to him, and he watched you shudder slightly at the vibrations of his voice.

“I’m sorry you were witness to my actions earlier, I’m sure you have-”

“Forget it.”

Azriel was taken aback by your brazenness, the tone in your voice was something he’d never been on the receiving end of before. You moved swiftly in front of him, your back still to him as you placed your book back on the shelf.

“Right.”

Azriel struggled to understand your motives. Were you pretending not to have seen anything to spare his embarrassment, or had Rhys instructed you to keep silent?

“Well I am truly sorry.” He spoke again.

“Why do you keep apologising to me?” your voice wavered for a moment.

“Because you’re my friend, and I’ve implicated you-”

“Friend. Right, of course.” You clung to that word bitterly, you couldn’t help yourself. You had spat it back so venomously. 

Azriel always knew you better than anyone, could tell when something was off and there was clearly something wrong. He stepped forward, touching your wrist to get you to turn at him.

And then he saw.

He saw the pained expression. Tear stained face and red puffy eyes. In all his years of knowing you, he had never seen this look– a look so broken.

Who had hurt you?

“Y/n, what’s wrong?”

You scoffed, pulling your wrist away from his grasp. Despite the hurt simmering within you, a newfound confidence surged through you. After mustering the courage to confess your feelings to Azriel, only to be met with rejection by his actions, you felt a liberating sense of release– you had nothing left to lose.

And quite frankly you just didn’t care anymore.

"It's you," you spat, your words dripping with bitterness as you locked eyes with Azriel, the pain evident in your glassy gaze. "It is you who has caused this."

Azriel's confusion was palpable, his brows furrowed as he struggled to comprehend how he could have hurt you so deeply. He felt his shadows coil around him protectively, but they remained silent, offering no explanation for his transgressions. Whether they didn’t know or they refused to tell him.

Your lips quivered slightly as you drew in a sharp breath, your fists clenching at your sides.. "It's my fault, really," you admitted, your voice tinged with self-blame. "For being so foolish, for ever thinking I–... That I would be good enough."

Azriel’s expression bore confusion, but seeing your pain was breaking something inside of him. He tried to reach for you again, wanting to soothe you but you stepped away from him.

Something started to gnaw on him then, deep in his chest.

"I know I could never compete with Mor, so I never even tried," you continued, your voice trembling with raw emotion. "I hoped maybe with time you’d realise that was never meant to be. Maybe eventually consider me instead…”

You had said it. Admitted your truth. Azriel’s eyes widened in shock. Your confession hung in the air, the weight of your words hitting Azriel like a punch to the gut. For a Spymaster, he had failed miserably at deciphering your true feelings. He opened his mouth to speak, but before he could utter a word, you pressed on, your voice thick with unshed tears.

"And I noticed how you didn’t look at her the same way anymore," you choked out, struggling to maintain composure. "I thought maybe it was because we’d gotten closer. I was so foolish, I realise that now. It wasn’t because of me."

"Wait, Y/n," Azriel interjected, his voice laced with urgency as he stepped forward, his hands gripping your arms firmly.

Azriel's heart sank as your words pierced through him, revealing a truth he had been too blind to see. He had never known, never even considered, because in his eyes, you were one of the most precious people in his life – too precious for him to ever believe he was worthy of.

Your voice quivered with emotion, and Azriel's chest tightened with guilt as he realised the depth of your pain. "I know I'm not as lovely as Elain," you whispered, your words like a dagger to his heart.

"Don't say things like that," Azriel pleaded, his voice thick with emotion. "You are so incredible—"

But you cut him off, your words slicing through the air with a finality that left Azriel reeling. You refused to hear anything else from his lips. Those lips that had been so close to kissing Elain. 

He watched helplessly as you moved out of his grasp, your every movement causing that feeling in his chest to grow. You picked something up from the table behind you, turning to face Azriel once more. Somehow forcing a soft sad smile across your lips.

Azriel's throat tightened, his breath catching in his chest as he gazed at you. In that moment, you seemed more fragile than ever, your vulnerability laid bare before him. He had always considered you beautiful, too beautiful for him, too kind, too good. And now, as he stood face to face with the pain he had unknowingly caused you, his heart ached with regret.

"I've held onto these feelings for so long, hoping one day you might feel the same way," you confessed, your voice heavy. "But I think tonight was the Gods' way of telling me it’s time to let go."

Azriel's hands trembled as you pushed the gift box into his palms, "Happy Solstice.” You whispered with a bittersweetness that tore Azriel’s soul. Your words, they felt so final. They felt like a goodbye.

With a shaky breath, Azriel glanced down at the box, opening, his fingers began to trace the intricate design of the sheath adorned with gems that he instantly recognised as symbols of him and his family. But when he looked up again, ready to speak your name in a desperate plea, he found only emptiness.

Finally, his shadows spoke.

Gone.

Next Part >> (by popular demand I have continued this, mwah)

a/n: This little drabble came to me last night, I wanted to inflict a little hurt. You are very welcome <3 - Lottie x

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel fanfic #azriel x you #acotar azriel #acotar fanfiction #angst #acotar series #azriel shadowsinger #azriel spymaster #azriel imagine #azriel angst #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fanfiction #azriel series #azriel fic rec #azriel

[onelittlespiral]

How about a jock twinning tf?👀

Looking alike, talking alike, then thinking alike

FML: Match

He never really stood a chance. The moment he walked into our new apartment together his days were numbered. No guy, and I mean no guy, can resist me for long. How could they, when it just feels so good to be me. He tried though. That first week he was a real prick. He would complain about my stuff everywhere, scoff at my friends, and try to cover up my scent. But 24/7 with me around starts to have an effect. I caught him picking up my stuff and stealing a quick sniff before throwing it in my room. The candles sat abandoned in his room. A pair of my boxers went missing. I finally caught him on week three. He was sitting, zoned out in the living room. It’s always so cute the first time they try to embrace it. Sprawled out on the floor, my boxers loose around his legs, hat backwards on his head. He already had a little beard going.

He didn’t even bother getting up when I came in. He was lost in the scent of me, and his body was trying everything to become what it was not.

“Get up!” His body came to as he snapped to attention. He tried making excuses, his face was a mix of confusion and horror at what he was wearing.

“I am so sorry, I have no idea… what’s happening? What are you doing to me?!?”

“I’m just living it up bro, you’re the one sitting in my underwear. You trying to be all of this?” I flexed my biceps in front of him, watching his body begin to pulsate. “Just flex bro. Let it out, let me out.” His arms curled and posed, copying my form. His forearms exploded with muscle, as he began to shout:

“No, please, let me go.”

“You can leave at any time, you just have to want to.” I struck another pose, popping my pecs and flexing my abs. He moved in unison with me, his stomach sucking in as abs pushed out. Pecs punched out of his chest with force as his torso stretched to copy mine.

“Please… I don’t want this. Why- how are you doing this?”

“It’s easy little bro,” I sat into a deep squat. His eyes rolled back in his head as his lower body erupted. Muscle tore through him, filling out calfs, thighs, and ass all at once. “I’m what every guys wants, what everyone craves to be. My scent, my hormones, my whole aura has been filling you for weeks. I’ve been inside. You’ve just got to let me out. Now,” I stood back up, his body parodying along like a puppet. His body was ready, even when his mind was not, “FLEX.” I hit a double-bicep pose.

“Ah…AuGH-AHHHGAUH!”

I was let loose from inside him.

It was like looking in a mirror. Fuck, I’m a stud. He was spacing out:

“Bro… no, fuck. Why, why do I sound like that?”

“You’re getting the full package little bro. You are going to look, sound, smell, think, and fuck just like me. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

He shuddered in response. Immediately his cock began swelling, snaking down his leg. His mind was saying no but his body was saying yes. By now his balls were pumping him full of my hormones, invading his mind and filling him with my horny thoughts. Hands gripped his cock as he began jerking off in front of me, speeding up his transformation. Drool dripped from his open mouth and rolled down his chest.

“No, please. Why-why does it… feel…so…goooood? Hu-ungh-uhhhHHHh…”

He was riding the waves of pleasure as they engulfed his brain. He never stood a chance against me, but it was still so hot to watch him submit to his fate. Wave after wave of pleasure washed over him, and slowly I watched the lights go out upstairs. He was just like me now. No, better. He was me now. It was time. I walked up and pulled his hands from his cock, and replaced them with mine. I furiously began jacking him off as his brain short circuited and he just writhed in pleasure.

“Ha-hahu-ugh-huhuhuhuuuu-uHH-“

I leaned in, and planted one kiss on his sweaty brow and commanded:

“Now CUM.”

Instantly he let loose, hitting the back wall. It covered my hands, just adding to the lubrication as I finished him off. Rope after rope flew across the room, until he was shooting blanks still thrusting against my hands. He slowly slumped to the floor

“How you feeling bro?” I asked him

“Huuuuuuh…fuck bro I’m spent. You’re a god. How do you manage to get that much out of me every time?”

I chucked a bit. “I know all the right buttons to push bro. I just do what I would do to me.”

“God, I’m not gonna be horny for a week”

“Pfft, knowing you? I give it an hour.”

“God we’re so hot bro…”

The comment caught me a bit off guard. Did he… no. There wasn’t any part of him left that would know what just happened to him. I leaned in and gave my new doppelgänger a kiss:

“Yeah we are, bruh.”

#transformation #hypnosis #bro #male transformation #jockification #reality change #twin tf #Ask #straight to gay #jock tf #dumber #mental change #fml

[kisses4choso]

#GOOD PAIN

SYNOPSIS: patching them up when they're hurt. CHARACTERS: ZORO & SANJI WARNINGS: fwb dynamic, lots of tension, suggestive asf, foul language, cuts. NOTE: maybe i'm a little into wounded men, am i crazy?

“fuck,” he groaned, and it was probably the hundredth time you’d heard that exact word drop from ZORO's bloody lips. “if you stayed still, maybe it wouldn’t hurt so much,” you emphasized your point by pushing his chest back, “or maybe if you were careful,” you sighed, moving on from the wound on his lower abdomen to the one right above it. 

“oh, what? you’re not even gonna thank me for saving your ass back there?” he complained again, huffing loudly when you swiped the wet towel against his chest a bit too harshly. “i didn’t need your help,” you retort, and he knew you well enough to understand you weren’t lying, but he couldn’t just stand back and watch as you were attacked.

he'd much rather sit there with you between his legs, tending to his wounds, than have you in the chair, hurt. the thought of it terrified him.

“i still deserve-” his words were cut off by a quiet hiss when you made a final swipe across his pecs, and maybe he was exaggerating a bit to make you feel bad, but he didn’t expect you to be so rough.

he held his breath as you opened the bottle of ointment, and watched as you poured it first on your hands and then onto his open wounds.

he moaned, and you coughed in surprise, "stop being loud."

"adrenaline's wearing off, give me a shot or two and maybe i'll shut up."

you sighed, indulged him by pouring him a full shot, and reached for gauze and bandages to put over his wounds as he drank. you began to wrap them across and around his body as gently as you could, and he made no complaint, except for the occasional groan. "just one more, okay? you got it, right? not gonna pass out on me?"

zoro didn't know if it was the blood loss or the alcohol that was causing the fuzzy feeling in his body that made him feel dumb, made him feel completely not himself. "mhm," he responded, and meant for it to sound sarcastic, he wanted to keep up with your banter, but the words left his lips weakly, a whimper at best.

"you look good," although you were no chopper, your work would do for a temporary fix.

you scanned his face, which was plastered with cutesy bandaids (you ran out of plain ones), and realizing your odd choice of words, you quickly corrected yourself, "i meant, the bandages look good. if they rip, i can fix them for you."

he leaned onto the chair he sat in, “no thanks, this hurt more than actually getting cut,” he mumbled, and you rolled your eyes. 

“all right, baby,” you laughed, focused on picking up all the tools you had lying around, but you turned to look at him once you realized he hadn’t even answered with a mean comment of his own. “you good? lost too much blood?” you poked his bare arm, and he released a shaky breath. 

“don't call me that,” he scoffed, eyes quickly abandoning yours when you stood up to your full height, towering over his sitting form, head slightly tilted down and gaze lowered to look at him.

“you mean baby? i was insulting you, don't get a big head.” 

he took yet another shot and smiled at his own foolishness; the pain in his chest was completely forgotten and replaced by a rush of confidence, “shut up and drink, maybe after a few shots you'll actually mean it.”

SANJI's choked groan resounded in the room, and you dropped your hands from where they laid on his leg. "sorry, did that hurt?" you asked, peeked up at him to find his face completely flushed, "sanji?"

he closed his eyes and rubbed his eyes with a shaky hand, "just... just give me a second, please."

"okay," you nodded, and stood up from where you were kneeling to give sanji a break. "you should probably wait for chopper to help you, i don't want your wounds to get infected because of me."

he shook his head and shifted his weight on the barrel he sat on, "you're not hurting me."

"you're lying, i'm literally watching you tear up," you brushed his hair out of his face to get a good look at his eyes, which you could have sworn were watering, but he immediately shut them. "it's not that," the cook mumbled, hyper aware of your hands in his disheveled hair, he inwardly groaned. you smiled nervously, "then what is it?"

he bit his lower lip, trying to distract himself from your enveloping scent, "i can't."

"sanji, look at me," and he slowly opened his eyes, and you sighed, "see? you're one touch away from crying."

your words were about as helpful as your proximity and your touch.

his eyes looked down at his legs, embarrassed to be in such a state in front of you. "it doesn't hurt badly." you crossed your hands over your chest, clearly not believing him, "so, what? it hurts good?"

he bit the inside of his cheek, but didn't respond. how was he supposed to react to that? if he told you the truth, would you be disgusted? would you curse him out and leave?

you didn't miss a beat, "i didn't know you were into that kinda thing."

he cleared his throat, searched your eyes for any kind of judgement, but ultimately found none. he still felt compelled to apologize, "i'm sorry, love. i don't mean to make you feel uncomfortable, but i just… i can't help myself when i'm around you."

you couldn't say you were surprised about sanji's interests, so you decided to test your limits, "don't be sorry. just be good and keep it down, yeah?"

he sat up straighter at that, and you took it as a sign to continue, "don't want the crew getting the wrong idea."

i can take both just saying 🤞

#one piece #one piece x reader #sanji #sanji x reader #sanji x you #sanji smut #op smut #op fluff #zoro #zoro smut #zoro x you #zoro x reader #sanji fluff #zoro fluff

[2smolbeans]

I just thought of a yandere Obey Me Au idea.

So you know those (Replaced Au Obey Me) writings where the brothers just dump Mc and floak towards the new exchange student?

Well, I thought of my own Obey Me Replaced Au..With a twist:

.

.

________________

The moment you heard of the new exchange student, you didn't know how to feel. It wasn't anything exciting. It was terrifying if anything - though that sense of fear could never match the amount of paranoia the demon brothers gave you every day.

Would this exchange student last long? Would the demon brothers tolerate their mere existence? What do they look like? Could they perhaps be your friend?

Despite all odds of you trying to keep those thoughts about the new exchange student at bay, you couldn't help but fantasize the scenarios about them.

Another human in hell with you. They had to be human, right? You overheard it from Lucifer mumbling in his office about it. Maybe this place wouldn't be so terrifying and lonely after all.

Finally, you could have someone else by your side. For once, you could maybe perhaps talk to another person for a nice change.

But when they came, they immediately shifted their gaze towards the brothers- of course smitten by their appearances and 'personalities'.

All those daydreams, those fantasies. Shattered.

They didn't look at you, acknowledge you, or even bother with you. They were too enamored by the temptations of sin that dangled in front of them like a stringed up prize.

Though you were disheartened by the loss chance of a new friend... You were also happy that they were distant to you.

Why?

Well, for once, your captors, tormentors, and demons who smothered you constantly every day had finally given you a break. This was your chance, a chance you had never thought to have seen coming.

They..They were actually too distracted for once! You finally had your own privacy, alone time - god, you were actually able to talk to other people again!

It helped that the exchange student was keeping the brothers busy while also keeping a safe distance from you! So you didn't have to be roped up into any of their antics at all!

Some people would feel shitty knowing that they were being replaced, that the people who adored them had found another person to devote their affection towards.

But you?

You were prancing happily throughout the halls of the school when you had figured out that you had been replaced. Smiling every day as you noticed, the brothers hadn't once bothered you at all.

Of course, things wouldn't last forever...

Sooner or later, you found yourself cornered in an empty room, surrounded by them as they stared disappointed at you.

What happened to the exchange student? You thought things were going well? Why was everything like this again? Where were they- This wasn't fair. You had a chance - a chance to-

"What? Leave us again?"

"You didn't think we wouldn’t notice you skipping happily along the halls when we decided to test you, right?"

"You didn't even bother checking up on us..Instead.. You enjoyed being apart from us.."

"Wow, low blow Mc..Realll low blow. Ya really took this as an opportunity to fool around with others, huh?"

"And after that one night where you promised me you'd never lie or abandon me..What a fucking joke"

"Yeah, hogging all your attention towards yourself and others like an eager attentionwhore.. And I'm the avatar of lust. Are you trying to say something orrr what?"

"Well, I wouldn’t expect much from them. After all, they have rather been slow about their position here..Maybe we should educate them more."

.

.

.

And with a sadistic voice of awe, everyone else spoke in unison as they stared at you with glee.

"Agreed"

.

.

.

__________________________

#yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere prompt #obey me #yandere obey me #obey me leviathan #yandere headcanons #yandere obey me x reader #yandere obey me headcanons #obey me au #obey me replaced mc au #yandere mammon #f's for Mc #I really don't know how to make the text yellow for Mammon 😭😭😭 #ugh I will figure it out eventually! #lol #obey me replaced au #obey me replaced mc

[servicpop]

AUGH THE COWBOY FIC WAS SO FUCKING CUTE FHSHJSBUSKFDSKUS I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!!!!! OUUUUUU

I ALREADY HAVE ANOTHER IDEA FOR THEM!!!! so the reader eventually has to get to the next town for a week or two for a series of shows, reader tells Cole where he’ll be and where he’ll preform so Cole can send him a letter if he’d like. Cole obviously send a him letters and reader writes back every time. But one day Cole doesn’t send reader a response and this makes him think Cole lost interest for some reason, so readers moping around and complaining about it to other show girls until Cole shows up at the place their preforming. Reader spots Cole in the crowd and gets excited immediately and the rest of the show he has a wide smile up until he can go out and talk to Cole who has flowers for the reader!!!

THIS CAN END FLUFFY OR SMUTTY OR BOTH IDC I JUST LOVE THESE TWO SO MUCH YOU DONT GET IT IM CRAZY RAH :3

-🎱

✶ ﹑ㅤletters & flowersㅤ﹏

NOW STARRING : Cole the cowboy x 'showgirl' m!reader

「ㅤSFW & NSFWㅤ」ㅤhalf is sfw and half is nsfw (the nsfw part will be separated and labelled as nsfw!)

✙ NSFW warnings — sub!top cole, dom!bottom/power bottom reader, cole is a virgin, riding, tummy bulge, cole is more vocal than reader, first time

notes ,, go to part one if you haven't read it already! Not proofread !!

You were able to extend your stay at Pinecrest just for a little while, and during your time here you were able to meet so many people and learn so many things about agriculture, farming, taking care of animals, and you even got to meet the local dog, Scout. More importantly, you were able to spend more time with Cole. He took you out almost every night to go sightseeing, taking you to his favourite spots whether it was in the mountains or by the lake. He even taught you how to ride your own horse and named her Taffy after you; since you were so sweet.

Nothing could've replaced those star-filled nights where it was just you and Cole with your horses, Taffy and Spirit, enjoying the cool breeze and endless conversations that seemed to meander. However, you were a busy man, especially while being in the entertainment industry you didn't have time to stick around forever. You could feel your heart sink just a little bit when your manager had announced that another show would be held in the next town for a few weeks. Of course you enjoyed your line of work, you loved performing, loved being on stage and hearing the cheers of others, but you also loved Cole's company. You knew that Cole had a role here at Pinecrest and it would've been selfish of you to ask him to come with you. But, it wasn't like you were going to keep this whole ordeal a secret from him.

"Cole?" Your voice seemed to break the silence; his head turned to look at you, "Yeah?" Cole's voice was warm, and gentle with a hint of ruggedness like honey dripping over gravel, and the way his eyes glittered when they met yours was enough to make your legs weak under the eye contact, causing you to splutter when you decided to speak again. "I– I have to leave tomorrow, I got another show I need to do at the next town," You mumble, shying away from his entrancing gaze. The cogs in his rusty little brain were visibly turning as Cole stared at you blankly with his lips parted like he was trying to comprehend your words. You can tell it finally settled in his mind when his face deflated like a sad puppy, "You're leavin' sugar?" His voice wavers as he stared at you; the fingers that were once tracing the rim of his glass paused, and the bartender took this moment of Cole's sad expression as a cue to refill his cup with root beer.

Oh, you couldn't do this to him. It was almost like kicking an abandoned puppy on the side of the road — totally cruel. You proposed the idea of sending letters and his sad puppy expression lifted just a little. Fishing in your bag you pulled out a flyer of your next show, sliding it across the counter so he could keep a copy for himself, "Here, send them to this address," you tapped the words in bold that say where you were performing. Cole — of course — takes the flyer eagerly, scanning over it to mentally note down the information written on it, "I'll definitely be sendin' you letters honey," Cole smiled with his dimples peeking through. He picked up his glass of beer and placed it between his lips to take a swig before he started blabbering about whatever came to his mind, a common habit of Cole, and you were always keen to listen to his rambles. You could listen to his voice all night long.

Unfortunately, Cole's most dreaded day came when you had to leave for the next town. He most definitely was one of the first people to wake up at the crack of dawn to catch you before you left, pressing a light, lingering kiss on the back of your palm as if you were a prince and he was nothing but a humble knight. After the townspeople waved you off, you and your fellow performers left via the vans. It was approximately a four hour ride, it would've been quicker if you took the train but your manager insisted to go by car for the scenery. You felt yourself missing Cole more than ever, more than anyone else that you've met and being in multiple towns and countries, you've met alot of people.

Your show was held over four days with a one day break in between and a few free days to explore the area — a total of one week and 3 days. As promised, after settling down in the new town, you received letters every morning from Cole. They usually contained heartfelt messages about his day, his animals, what he ate for every meal, some local gossip, and of course expressing how much he missed you. He even signed every letter with small doodles of what you assumed to be him and Scout. Sometimes, he'd even attach small poloroids of himself usually with Taffy and Spirit in the back. Every night when you had time to spare you scavenged your hotel room for a spare piece of paper and a pen, writing back a response with your signature and some doodles that were definitely not as good as Cole's. It's corny, but you kissed the envelop after sealing it before sending it off back to him.

One day after your 2nd show, you stopped receiving letters, and it really messed up your mood. Did Cole lose interest? Had he found someone better than you? Was it because you were away? All these thoughts ran through your mind and you found yourself slumped at the vanity, complaining and whining to the other showgirls on how you felt like he didn't like you anymore. Knowing how supportive the girls are, they always attempted to comfort you, patting your back and reassuring you that he might’ve just not had any time to write back, that he was busy tending the cattle and whatnot. But no matter what they said, that feeling if a pit in your stomach lingered for the 3rd show. Your aura wasn't the same, your energy wasn't the same, you couldn't perform as well as you did the first two shows.

But suddenly, you felt a strange, familiar pair of eyes staring at you from the crowd. Mid dance, your eyes scanned the sea of people and caught on that dear smile that seemed to light up even the darkest of nights. Cole. That stupidly charming cowboy was nestled in between the bodies of others looking at you. Just you with those eyes filled with admiration. Your heart skipped a beat — or multiple — and you felt your lips involuntarily curl up into a smile.

"That's it. That's the smile I love."

With a new-found burst of energy, your limbs no longer felt sluggish and that fake smile was replaced with a genuine one. All of the sudden, the spotlight seemed to focus on you, highlighting the sequins that glittered on your costume and your bright smile. The other showgirls seemed to notice your change in mood and they all shot you small smiles, watching at how your hips swayed with the beat of the music and how your dance lightened up the atmosphere. You couldn't wait to see him.

Once the performance ended and you and the other performers bowed, you immediately ran out into the crowd, searching frantically for Cole but no matter how hard you looked and pushed through the people, you couldn't find Cole. Your feet picked up in speed as you ran outside, looking around to find Cole leaning against a streetlight with a bouquet in his hands. "Hey," You huffed, catching your breath from all that running around. "You were— amazing, sweetheart," Cole smiled, extending his arm out for you to take the bouquet of dasies, "U–uhm, the daises are hand picked if— if you were wonderin'." From the way he was stuttering over his words like a highschool boy confessing to his crush, and how his eyes focused on anything but your face, you could tell he's never given flowers to anyone in such a romantic way. They were beautiful, all thoughtfully placed together to make the bouquet aesthetically pleasing with a white ribbon tied around the stems with a small bow. You took the bouquet before wrapping your arms around Cole in a warm embrace. He didn't expect you to hug him so abruptly but he for sure did not complain, taking only a second to return the hug, wrapping his arms around you protectively. "I've never seen you smile so wide before darlin,' were you excited to see me?" Cole chuckled, keeping your face pressed against his cheek as he tangled his fingers through your hair. A small laugh escaped your lips too as you teased back, "Don't get ahead of yourself now."

After catching up a bit on the way back to your hotel, you found out through Cole that one of his cows gave birth to an adorable baby he named 'Choco' from its brown coloured fur. He really did have a quirk in naming animals. Once back, he helped you find a vase for your daisies, filling it up with water before carefully plopping your flowers in them. You flopped onto the bed, bouncing slightly from how plush the mattress was, and Cole followed shortly, laying right beside you. As you laid on the bed with your eyes staring up at the white ceiling, you felt a hand tangle with yours, turning your head to meet Cole's grin and his hands holding yours tightly. "Thanks for coming tonight," You were more than happy that he actually took the time out of his day to come all the way here to watch you perform again, "You know I'd do anythin' for you sugar," He cooed, squishing your cheeks between his fingers before he brought your face to his, giving you a small peck on the lips. You always loved how soft and gentle Cole's lips felt agaisnt yours, and they always had a faint taste of strawberries on them.

"That's too corny,"

"You want corn? We can go to the corn fields sometime if that's what you want"

And that earnt a pillow straight to his face.

One kiss turned into two, maybe three, with you leaning over Cole's body while he was still laying down. His arm snaked over to hook around your waist, pulling you closer to him and tangling his legs with yours. As he presses his body agaisnt yours, you felt him poke at your thigh. He was excited, something that you didn't expect from sweet little Cole. He seemed to notice and it was evident through the blush that creeped up his neck, "S–sorry... it's instinct y'know?" His words stumble over eachother and he brings a hand to his face, hiding behind the comfort of his palms as embarrassment ate away at him. It was adorable! This guy being such a flustered mess just from a few kisses and you haven't even done anything that intimate yet.

You reassure him, obviously; you tell him that it's natural and that it's okay to react this way. But then it strikes you. He seemed so inexperienced, so shy about everything. Was Cole a virgin? "I've never done anythin' like this before... I've never felt this way about someone else," His usually loud and confident voice was now reduced to a soft, nervous whisper. He shuffled slightly, pulling you up and onto his lap, his eyes glittered with nervousness and excitement, "D'you think you could show me a thing or two?" Damn. The way he's looking at you with pure love and sincerity made your blood pump faster from how quick your heart was beating. You've been dying for this too, so why not?

You helped him undress before following shortly after, discarding your clothes somewhere in the hotel. He was surprisingly big— like really big. His pretty pink tip was already glistening with pre-cum from the previous kisses and he had a prominent vein that ran down the underside of his cock that was bound to be a sensitive spot for him. Cole was also more built than you expected, he had toned muscles that were most defined in his arms and he had pretty big pecs. They were like pillows, you'd have to convince him to let you sleep on them later. Cole refused to look you in the eyes while you rummaged the beside drawers for lube. You put a generous amount on your palm before placing the bottle down and turning to face Cole, who was trembling like a little mouse.

"Relax," you cooed, wrapping your lubed up hand around his shaft, pumping slowly to coat him. His body physically jerked once he felt the cool substance around his cock, and a low whine slipped from his lips. Cole's breathing became more heavy as you slowly stroked his length, his eyes fluttered with every movement. Once you deemed that to be enough, you slowly moved to hover over his lap and Cole's hands immediately went up to grip your hips for stability. You knew this would hurt; you weren't properly prepared but you didn't care that much. Slowly, you sunk down on Cole's cock, feeling the slight burn as you bit back small whimpers. "You okay sugar? 'Mnot hurtin' you am I?" Cole grunted, his fingers gripping your hips even more, guiding you down his length. He was concerned, yes, but he also couldn't help from twitching inside you.

"I'm fine," you replied with a small huff once you were able to take Cole in fully, relaxing a bit so you could get used to his size. Cole on the other hand was certainly not relaxing. You could almost see the muscles on his arm tense and he had this unfamiliar look in his eyes like he was desperate for something, any sort of movement from you. After awhile of just silence and stillness, Cole's resolve finally caved in, "Oh, please sweetheart, please move. Anythin'! I need to feel you, please," he whined like a little puppy, staring into your eyes as if he was going to die if you didn't give him any sort of relief. But that wasn't any fun now was it?

You leaned down, your hips rolling slightly in accord to your movements, and pressed a honeyed kiss on the outer corner of Cole's lips. That little movement with your hips almost made Cole cum on the spot. "You can't do that t'me," Cole's eyes gleamed over with tears, dampening his eyelashes. All wet and pretty. He swore he'd actually start crying if you didn't move. "Alright, alright, sorry," you apologised but didn't really mean it — he was so adorable begging you just to move. But, you weren't that cruel. A string of 'thank you's poured out of Cole's mouth as you rocked your hips rhymically, grinding down on his cock. His head tilted back against the silk pillows, his brown hair cascading across the pillowcase like flowing water. Cole's lips were slightly parted, and his chest rose and fell intermittently, some breaths short and stuttered, while others were deeper.

"It feels so good," Cole muttered out between pants. His voice was nothing short of a whiny mess mixed with a few moans and grunts. You lifted yourself off of him, almost lifting completely off of him before dropping your hips back down, earning a muffled whimper from you and a loud moan from Cole. He was undoubtedly alot more vocal in expressing his pleasure. His eyes opened with heavy eyelids, as he looked up at you; you could practically see the hearts in his eyes. Cole's gaze flickered down to your tummy and his mind went blank when he saw the small bulge in your stomach, "Oh mercy," he breathed out, his hand moved to touch your stomach, "You're gonna be the death of me if you keep— hah, keep teasin' me like this."

Your mind was just as lost as Cole's with the way his dick was able to reach your prostate so easily. It drove you crazy; his cock angled perfectly to hit it over and over again with each bounce. Your own neglected cock was sliding along Cole's happy trail, the warmth of his body made you twitch everytime you grinded your hips. "I'm— im close, so so so close, please— please let me cum." Beads of sweat rolled down Cole's temples and his forearms flexed, digging his fingertips into your hips hard enough to leave an indent — he was careful not to use his nails, Cole would never want to hurt you. "Im—" Cole sat up from his laying position, enveloping you in his arms and buried his face in the crook of your neck, needing something to hold onto while he orgasmed. His moans were muffled by your neck as his thigh spasmed faintly while he spilt his seed inside of you, filling you up to the brim. Your own orgasm followed after his, coating his abs with your fluid.

You two sat in the comfort of eachothers arms and the sound of your heavy breathing; your own arms were lazily draped over his shoulders with one hand stroking his hair. "When's your next show?" Cole asked, moving his head off your shoulder to look at you, "The day after tomorrow, but I have rehearsal tomorrow morning," a small pout spreads across Cole's lips as his eyes flicker to loon at your thigh instead. "Do you think you can walk properly tomorrow?" "Oh right..."

Bonus ♡

You winced as you settled down into the chair infront of the vanity. A few of the showgirls walked up to you, noticing that something was off, "You okay honey bun? You seem to be in alot of pain today," one of the girls ask, placing a comforting hand on your back. "He obviously got some action last night with that cowboy guy." "No I did not!" "It's obvious in the way you're limping sweetie."

Cole on the other hand, was still soundly asleep in your hotel bed, curled up with the blanket he stole from you during the night.

a/n ,, Cole oh sweet Cole . To be honest ,, I'm still not used to writing smut . I guess it's because I'm trying my hardest not to make it sound off or weird ,, maybe I'm just immature . The word cock sounds funny to me . Anyways !! I kinda rushed the smut . To be fair my main focus with Cole is how he's an innocent n' sweet guy but ya know ,, nsfw is what gets people going these days

#bottom male reader #male reader #oc x male reader #male x reader #mlm #male x male #servicpop — fics/drabbles #servicpop — ocs #sub character #dom male reader #x bottom male reader #original character #smut #gay #gay fanfiction #oc fluff #oc smut

[joelmillerisapunk]

candy hearts

Joel Miller x Reader

masterlist

↳ wordcount: 3k

↳ summary: In the post-apocalyptic world, you and Joel find solace in each other's arms. As you explore an abandoned building, a stray acoustic guitar becomes the catalyst for a passionate night of music and intimacy.

~or~

You find the perfect Valentine's gift for Joel

↳ warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, this is during the outbreak

↳ notes: Happy Valentine's. Will you be mine? 🥹 tysm @saradika-graphics for the dividers.

As you and Joel make your way through another abandoned building, you can't help but feel a sense of relief. It's Valentine's Day, and you're grateful to have Joel's company and a roof currently over your head in the midst of the chaos and uncertainty of the outbreak.

“See If you can find a good spot to set up for the night, I'll make sure the rest of the house is clear.” As Joel starts rummaging through cupboards and drawers, he comes across a stash of old candy hearts tucked away in a corner. "Hey, look at this," he says, picking up the candy and showing it to you. "It's those dumb candy hearts. Must be from before the outbreak."

You walk up to Joel and take a candy, reading the red printed message on it: "U R CUTE." You can't help but smile and chuckle at the simple, heartfelt sentiment.

Joel picks out a candy heart with a message that catches his eye: "Be Mine." He holds it out to you, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Well, will ya?," he says, his voice flirty.

You take the candy heart and look at the hard to read text, "Be Mine, huh?" you say, trying to sound coy. "Well, I don't know, Miller. What's in it for me?"

Joel grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "What do you want?" he asks, his voice low and playful.

You give Joel a flirtatious smile and say, "Well, for starters, how about you try to find some blankets for our bed? Wouldn't want to catch a cold on Valentine's Day."

Joel's grin widens, and he nods. "I think I can manage that," he says, his voice full of promise.

As you head upstairs, you continue to playfully banter. "And maybe, just maybe, if you're lucky, I'll let you share my body heat," you say, winking over your shoulder.

Joel chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'll do my best to earn that privilege," he replies, a playful glint in his eyes.

As you reach the top floor, you start scouting for a good spot to set up camp for the night. You come across a large, open room with a few pieces of furniture scattered around, and you immediately feel drawn to it.

"This looks perfect," you say, setting down your bag and starting to unpack your things. As you're setting up your makeshift bed, you notice something in the corner of the room that catches your eye.

It's an old, worn acoustic guitar.

Your heart skips a beat as you make your way towards it, feeling like you've struck gold. You run your fingers gently over the strings, plucking them softly to test their sound. To your surprise, they don't sound bad, but they could sound better. You quickly remember the spare strings you salvaged a few months back from a broken guitar body and pulled them from your bag, excited to replace the strings and surprise Joel.

But just as you start removing the strings, the job proves harder than usual. Taking the strings off is easy, but you aren't paying attention to where they come out from on the guitar as you pull the original ones out. As you continue, you hear Joel's footsteps on the stairs. You turn around just in time to see him enter the room, a stack of blankets in his arms.

"That doesn't look like a bed," he says, his eyes scanning the room.

You grin, feeling a rush of excitement. "No, it's not," you say, pulling out the new strings that you've been saving for months. "But I found something even better."

Joel's eyebrows shoot up in surprise as he takes in the strings in his calloused hands. "Where did you find these?" he asks, his voice full of curiosity.

"I found them a few months ago," you say, holding up one of the strings. "I was just waiting for the perfect guitar to come along."

Joel chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "And you think that there is the perfect guitar?" he asks, looking at the old acoustic guitar with a skeptical eye.

You nod, feeling a sense of determination. "I do," you say, starting to replace the strings.

He starts watching you with amusement as you try to figure out the first string. “Need help darlin’?”

You look up at him pausing, “No, you already ruined the whole surprise part. I'm not letting you ruin this for me too."

Joel grins, shaking his head in amazement and chukles. "You're kinda sneaky, huh?"

You giggle. "Maybe a little," you wink at him.

As you work, Joel sits down next to you, watching with interest and amusement. “You sure you don't need help? Can I just show you how to do one at least?”

You roll your eyes, trying to act like you've got it all under control, but you can't help but feel a little embarrassed. "Fine, fine," you say, handing the guitar over to Joel.

Joel takes the guitar from you, a smug look on his face. "Alright, let's see what we've got here," he says, examining the guitar closely.

Before you know it he's swapped out more than a couple, “Hey, you said you were gonna show me one not fix the entire thing.”

Joel smiles and then begins showing you how to properly replace a string. You watch carefully, trying to commit his movements to memory.

"Alright, last one you try," he says, handing the guitar back to you.

You take the guitar, feeling a sense of determination. You carefully thread the string through then wrap it around the peg, pulling it tight. You turn the peg, watching as the string tightens and the pitch rises.

Joel's eyes twinkle with excitement as he watches you replace the last string. "Not bad at all," he says, impressed with your progress. "You might just have a talent for this."

You smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. "Well, I've been saving these strings for the perfect guitar," you say, running your fingers gently over the now-tightened strings.

Joel's eyes linger on your hands, a hint of desire in their depths. "I think you've found the perfect one, alright, darlin"

"I hope so," you say, giving him a playful smile.

Joel grins back, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Well, let's see if we can get a tune out of it, shall we?" he says, grabbing the guitar and testing the strings.

You pick up the blanket and pillows from your bag, laying them out on the makeshift bed. "You make yourself comfortable while I finish setting up this bed," you say, glancing back at Joel as he tunes the guitar.

Inspecting the guitar, Joel's fingers find the right chords, and the room fills with the sweet sound of a well-played tune. "Well, I'll be damned. It sounds almost new, whatcha think darlin’ how does that sound?" he calls out to you, his voice rich with the melody.

You can't help but be mesmerized. "Sounds amazing," you say, your voice filled with wonder.

Joel smiles, a sense of satisfaction in his eyes. "I've sure missed playin this thing," he says, strumming the guitar once more.

"Would you teach me how to play that?" you ask.

Joel's eyes light up, and he nods enthusiastically. "Of course, darlin'," he says, setting the guitar down and offering it to you.

You take the guitar, feeling a sense of excitement at the prospect of learning something new. Joel sits you down on his lap, guiding your hands as you place them on the strings.

"Now, first things first," he says, adjusting your fingers on the frets. "You've got to get the grip just right."

You nod, focusing intently on Joels hands, mostly how good they feel on top of yours, so large, so rough. "Got it," you say, feeling the strings beneath your fingertips.

Joel's eyes linger on your hands, a hint of desire in their depths. "That's it baby, just like that," he says, his voice low and seductive. "Now, let's try a chord."

You follow his instructions, strumming the strings as he showed you. "Wow, that's actually not as hard as I thought," you say, feeling a sense of accomplishment.

Joel grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "See, you're a natural," he says, winking at you. As you continue to practice playing the guitar, Joel's hands rest on your hips, his breath warm against your neck as he watches you play. The room is filled with the sweet sound of music, and you can't help but feel a sense of contentment.

Finally, Joel sets the guitar aside and looks at you with a twinkle in his eyes. "I think that's enough practice for now," he says. “Come on to bed now, baby.”

The two of you settle into the makeshift bed, pulling the blankets up around you as you snuggle close to one another. "Hey, darlin'," he says, his voice low and seductive. "I'm feeling a little cold. Mind if I snuggle up to you?”

"I'm cold too," you say, your voice low and seductive. "Maybe we can help each other warm up.”

Joel chuckles, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I think that can be arranged," he says, pulling you closer to him.

As you snuggle up to one another, your bodies pressed close together, you can feel the heat radiating off of him, warming your skin and making you feel safe and protected in his arms. You take a moment to breathe in his scent, a mix of sweat, dirt, and something uniquely Joel, that you've come to associate with him and the comfort he brings. Your hands begin to wander over his chest, feeling the defined muscles beneath his shirt. You can feel the rough texture of his calluses, evidence of the physical work he's done to survive in this new world, and it only adds to his appeal.

You trace your fingers over the lines of his abs, feeling the muscles tense beneath your touch. You move your hands up to his shoulders, feeling the strength in his arms, the way they encircle you, holding you close. Your fingers graze over the rough stubble on his jaw, feeling the way it scrapes against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, feeling the way they part slightly, welcoming you in. Your hands continue to explore his body, feeling the way his chest rises and falls with each breath, the way his heartbeat quickens beneath your touch.

Joel responds to your kiss, his hands moving to your hips, pulling you closer to him. You can feel the hard length of his erection pressed against you, and it only serves to heighten your desire for him. Joel's hands wander your body, cupping your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. He teases your nipples, causing you to gasp with pleasure.

You break the kiss, your breath coming in ragged gasps. "Joel," you moan, your voice full of need.

Joel's lips trail down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. "Yes, darlin'?" he asks, his voice husky with desire.

"I want you," you say, your voice low and seductive.

Joel's eyes darken with desire. "I want you too, darlin'," he says, his voice thick with need.

He lifts your shirt and bra over your head, tossing it aside as his lips find yours once more. He teases your nipples with his tongue, causing you to moan with pleasure.

You run your hands over his chest again, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt. You tug at the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it aside. Joel's hands wander down your body, cupping your ass and pulling you closer to him. You can feel the hard length of his erection pressing against you, causing you to moan with need. He trails his lips down your body, kissing and licking at your skin as he goes. He reaches your pants, unbuttoning them and sliding them down your legs. You help kick your pants aside, your body now bare before him. Joel's eyes darken with desire as he takes in the sight of you.

He stands up, removing his pants and boxers in one swift motion. You take in the sight of him, his body muscular, his erection long, thick, and hard. Joel crawls back onto the bed, his body hovering over yours. He looks into your eyes, his own full of desire.

"You sure, darlin'?" he asks, his voice low and seductive.

You nod, your eyes locked on his. "I want you, Joel. I need you."

Joel's eyes darken with desire as he looks into your eyes. "You've got me, darlin'," he says, his voice thick with need. Joel's eyes darken with desire as he positions himself at your entrance. He teases you with the tip of his erection, causing you to moan with need. Finally, he thrusts inside of you, filling you completely. You cry out with pleasure, your body adjusting to the massive intrusion.

Joel sets a slow, steady pace, his hips moving in a slow, circular motion. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper inside of you, taking exactly what you need. You feel the tension building between you, the pleasure mounting higher and higher like a rollercoaster about to reach the very top of the track. Joel's thrusts become more urgent, his hips moving faster and faster.

As the tension continues to build, you can feel yourself getting closer to coming apart. Each thrust of his hips sends a wave of pleasure crashing through your body, leaving you breathless and trembling. You can feel his heart pounding against your chest as his hands roam your body, exploring every inch of your soft, supple skin.

"Oh god, Joel," you moan, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so close. Please don't stop."

Joel's response is a low growl, his body tensing as he drives deeper into you. His thrusts become more erratic, his movements more urgent as he races towards his own climax. You can feel his cock swelling inside you, the veins standing out as he pumps his hips faster and faster.

"Fuck, m'gonna come," he gasps, his breath hot against your ear. "You ready for me, baby?"

You nod, your eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure becomes almost too much to bear. "Please Joel, need your come deep inside me."

With a final, powerful thrust, Joel reaches his climax, his cock twitching as he empties himself deep inside you. You can feel the warmth of his seed spreading through your body, triggering your own release as you cry out his name. Your orgasm rolls through you in waves, leaving you trembling and gasping for breath. Joel collapses on top of you, his body slick with sweat.

You wrap your arms around him, holding him close as your bodies come down from the high. Joel reaches over into the pile of candy hearts and pulls out a new one. He looks at it for a moment, a smug smile spreading across his face.

"Think this one sums up tonight perfectly," he says, holding it out for you to read.

You take the candy from him and read the message aloud, "Heavenly Match."

Your heart flutters, and you can't help but smile. "Couldn't agree more cowboy," you say, leaning in to press a kiss to Joel's lips.

Joel grins, his eyes shining with affection and love. "Forever yours, darlin'," he says, his voice low and husky.

You smile back at him, feeling a sense of warmth and happiness that you've never felt before. "Forever yours," you say, pressing a kiss to his lips.

He wraps his arms around you, pulling you close as you bask in the afterglow of your love. As you lie there in each other's arms, basking in the warmth of your love, you realize that amidst the chaos of the world around you, you've found a sanctuary in each other. The abandoned building may be filled with shadows and uncertainty, but in this moment, there's nothing but the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the windows, casting a gentle light on your intertwined bodies.

With a contented sigh, you snuggle closer to Joel, feeling his steady heartbeat against your chest. In his embrace, you find solace, strength, and a sense of belonging that you never thought possible in this harsh new world.

As you drift off to sleep, the sweet melody of the guitar still echoing in your mind, you know that no matter what tomorrow may bring, you'll face it together, hand in hand, hearts intertwined, forever bound by the unbreakable bond of love.

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you

[ultimateshixiongfuckertournament]

Canonicals Tournament FINAL

The final is between Luo Binghe from The Scum Villain's Self-Saving System (shizun: Shen Qingqiu) and Mo Ran from The Dumb Husky and His White Cat Shizun (shizun: Chu Wanning)

Propaganda under the cut! (Warning: Propaganda may include spoilers about the characters and their media)

Luo Binghe:

Luo Binghe's shizun Shen Qingqiu caused his sexual awakening and they lived together with Luo Binghe acting similar to a housewife.

Even after being betayed, stabbed, and pushed into the Endless Abyss, Luo Binghe still loved Shen Qingqiu and wanted answers instead of revenge. Instead he had to repeatedly suffer his shizun dying in his arms and assumed abandonment. Which makes him absolutely lose it, made even worse by his evil sword Xin Mo which worsens all of his negative emotions and destroys its hosts, along with additional trauma over the course of the story.

He reused the sword that his shizun sacrificed himself to free him from, cuddles the corpse every night for five years to preserve it, he creates dreams of their happy years together but never made a Shen Qingqiu that would speak to him, he kidnapped and destroyed cultivators' cores so he could feed xin mo and preserve sqq's corpse, he rebuilds their house in his demonic palace, he spent years fixing sqq's destroyed cultivation and trying to revive him, he forces Shen Qingqiu live in that new house, he rescues and repeatedly puts himself in harms way to protect sqq, he tries to destroy the world so Shen Qingqiu can only love him (due to being driven mad by Xin Mo and his believed abandonment by sqq). He tries to kill himself after Shen Qingqiu dies for him again. He would do absolutely ANYTHING for Shen Qingqiu! He's increadibly jealous of everyone Shen Qingqiu gives attention to, including stairsweeps he smiles at. Luo Binghe has sooo much wrong with him and it makes him so lovable. He's so incredibly traumatized, driven by love and desperation for a majority of the story. He loves Shen Qingqiu so much and can't bear to live without him.

After everything? He lets Shen Qingqiu go, wanting him to be happy even if it means sqq won't stay with him. But sqq wanted to stay together! He gets his man! There is in world porn written about them, they have weird kinky sex inspired by the porn, they get married! Luo Binghe cries regularly for sqq, so sqq can dote on him despite his thin face. Luo Binghe is shameless and adores sqq. Lbh got so nervous that he fell flat on his face when proposing! Lbh loves sqq so much and wants him to be happy more than anything else!

More on disciple era:

Luo Binghe's sexual awakening was his shizun tied up and shirtless. He fell in love after Shen Qingqiu got poisoned protecting him. He moved into his shizun's house and handled all of the cooking and cleaning, would regularly fake fall into Shen Qingqiu during training to get hugs. He got a boner from being forcibly cuddled to heal his injuries. And ran to jump into a lake after being spanked for struggling too much during the forced cuddling. Sqq still never noticed lbh's affections.

--

It took him like 3(three) interactions with nice shizun (transmigrator who replaced his old one) to fall irrevocably in love. baby boy was ready he had mommy issues daddy issues and honestly by that time shizun issues too... luckily his new shizun can fill all those roles and more!

#lbh is THE shizunfucker

#binghe calling him shizun is a kink at some point its definitely him

#vote binghe!!#he wanted to fuck shizun so much that shizun died twice for him

#... i mean. luo binghe is a satire of the shizun fuckers character trope. hes an exageration of it so hes Very It

#luo binghe#again its basically a kink for him as well that puts it on another level

#cmon man#binghe is THE shizun fucker#activily has to be told to not call his husband shizun during sex

#binghe is THE shizunfucker supreme. no competition.

Mo Ran:

*gestures helplessly at the whole damn book*

#Mo 'I died and went into the past after the teacher I hated died in my arms and I dream of him every night' Ran???#of course its him

#vote for Mo ran I’m sorry but he is the emperor shizunfucker of all the shizunfuckers#he is the man the myth the legend#he’s the one you think of immediately when someone says shizunfucker

Extra Propaganda here. There are 3 versions of Mo Ran throughout Erha and every single one of them either wants to or did fuck their Shizun. Even in the darkest timeline when he thought he hated CWN more than anyone he fucked him. This boy is obsessed.

#mo ran 100%#he truly has the shizunfucker mentality

#mo ran#HAS TO WIN#he wants to fuck his Shizun so bad

#but it's gotta be mo ran#the all-time shizunfucker in this world that world and beyond

#luo binghe #mo ran #the scum villain's self saving system #svsss #the dumb husky and his white cat shizun #2ha #shen qingqiu #chu wanning #bingqiu #ranwan

[bunnywritesjunk]

My King

Series summary: Your parents signed you up for an Alpha Omega Match company when you were eighteen. It took years for them to find your match, but you meet the giant austrian man. Will he be a good partner?

Chapter summary: König is a little bit jealous about Soap's cookies.

Pairing: König x Fem Reader

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics (Never use this abbreviation without the slashes it is an indigenous slur) 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex, knotting, oral (male and female receiving) rough sex.

Word count: 3k

Genre: Mostly Fluff a little angst here and there. Smut.

A/n: Come get it hot ya'll. I know many have been waiting for this. and I wanted to add a little hit for maybe another series. Maybe.....you guys might want......something like this.....but with.....the ghost man? Idk maybe thats coming who knows.

Previous Chapter

Chapter Four:

The rain pattered down your bedroom window. The noise lulls you into a lazy half-sleep state. You snuggled into your nest feeling content. König had gone to get groceries and insisted you stay home, out of the rain. You heard him come through the front door clumsily. You begrudgingly left your nest and went to the kitchen. There, König was his shoes were wet tracking water into the kitchen. His wet jacket was abandoned on the floor near the front door. He glanced at you, he had his surgical mask on as well as a beanie. He was muttering to himself clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Kö, how about you go get changed I'll put away the food.” You knew he was overstimulated from the shopping trip and getting caught in the rain.

He didn't say anything as he rushed off to his room. You put the groceries away and mopped up the water that was on the floor. König came back looking slightly better in dry clothes. He stood near the kitchen his gaze toward the floor. You took his hand and guided him to the couch. He went nonverbal like this a few times during your stay with him. You knew he needed some time to relax before his words returned. You wrapped a throw blanket around him and put on a nature documentary. Nature shows were what he watched most, except when you wanted to watch cartoons or reality tv. After a few minutes, König looked more relaxed. He spoke.

“Schatz, two of my coworkers are in the city today. Would you like to meet them? They want to take me to a bar somewhere.”

“Oh, I'd love to meet them Kö. Will they be here soon?”

“They'll be here in about an hour after I give them the ok.”

“What are their names?” You asked.

“Ghost and Soap, one of which you kind of already know.”

You gasped excitedly. “I finally get to meet Soap! I promised to make some cookies for him.” You started gathering the ingredients.

König watched you from the couch. “You promised him cookies?”

“Yeah, as a thank you for helping me with your surprise.”

König growled lowly causing you to stop in your tracks. You looked up at him with a concerned look on your face. Your inner Omega was getting upset, what had you done that upset him?

“Alpha? What's wrong?” You asked.

König looked down. “...You're making cookies for him, and not me?”

The concern on your face was replaced by amusement. “König, of course, you can have some.” You chuckled.

König got up and walked to the kitchen. “It's not funny Schatz, I don't want you baking for another Alpha.” He growled.

You continued searching for the cookie ingredients not feeling phased but the intimidation your Alpha was trying to display.

“Alpha, I cook and bake so much for you. You can stand to let me make some cookies for your friend.”

König was slightly embarrassed at his own jealousy. He growled again but left you be, going back to watch his documentary.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The cookie dough was resting in the fridge as you sat with your Alpha. He was still a bit sour toward you about the cookies.

“Kö, I will make you your own special batch of cookies ok?”

“Hmph.” He replies, making you pout.

“I'll get you back.” He says.

You give him a puzzled look. Before you can ask what he means, the doorbell rings. He gets up and heads downstairs to retrieve his coworkers. He returned with two men in tow. One was tall, still shorter than König but he still towered over you. He was wearing a balaclava with a skull on it along with oversized black clothing. The other man had a bright smile on his face. He had a short mohawk and an army green jacket with jeans. You got up and introduced yourself while shaking their hands.

“Nice to finally meet you, I'm Soap.” The one with the mohawk said as you shook his hand.

“Ghost.” The taller one responded shortly. You gave him a warm smile and he nodded in acknowledgment.

The men sat on the couch talking amongst themselves. You decided to bake off some cookies for soap while he was still here. You could feel König's gaze on the back of your head as you baked. They put on a Rugby game to watch. You didn't know the first thing about Rugby so, you gave them space. As the cookies baked you sat at the dining room table and wrote for a little while. Whenever you glanced at König, he seemed content but something was off about him. The cookies didn't take very long to bake, when they were done you let them cool and placed them in a Tupperware container for Soap. After about an hour, they were getting ready to leave to go to the bar. You handed the cookies to Soap and bid them farewell. Soap gave you a warm hug and followed Ghost out of the apartment. König gave you a look, but hugged you tightly.

“I'll be back late tonight.” He kissed your cheek and left.

You went back to the table and continued to write. Time got away from you and before you knew it, it was midnight. Your eyes burned slightly from watching the bright computer screen for so long. You got up and stretched walking to the kitchen to grab yourself a snack. You got some cheese and crackers and sat on the couch watching a random robot chicken episode. Your body relaxed into the couch feeling heavier with each passing second. You fell asleep with a cracker still on your chest listening to the tv drone on.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

König got home around 1:30 am. He was still annoyed at how his Omega had dismissed him about the cookies earlier. He knew that you were just a sweet and loving girl that wanted to show appreciation for Soap. He would let that slide, But his Alpha needed her to know who she belonged to. He walked in and noticed you asleep on the couch, cracker crumbs all over you. König smiled at the sight his inner Alpha preened. He set his things down and walked over to the sleeping Omega kneeling before her. He picked her up gently. You stirred awake at the movement, sleepy eyes meeting his.

“Hi, Kö.” You said quietly.

He said nothing. You thought he was going to take you into your room but he passed it and opened the door to his. His scent was so potent, you stirred more aware of where he was taking you. He placed you on his bed and turned around to rummage through his closet. You sat up confused and groggy.

“Am I your Alpha?” He asked lowly.

“What?” You said confused.

He turned to you, his expression unreadable. “Am I your Alpha?” He repeated.

“Yes, you are my Alpha.”

“Hmm, yet you give affection to others.” He said while taking his shirt off. His muscled rippled beneath his scarred skin.

“Kö, I just wanted to show my gratitude.” You rubbed your eye trying to wipe away the sleep.

“I know sweet girl.” He turned and walked over to you, towering over the bed.

He leaned down pinning your chin between his thumb and index finger forcing you to look up at him. “I think it's time you learn who you belong to Schatz.”

Your eyebrows furrowed. “Alpha?”

He kissed you deeply forcing his tongue into your mouth. You leaned back slightly surprised, he used that opportunity to lay you on your back. His knee parted your legs and you gasped softly. His hand gripped the back of your neck firmly keeping you in place as he kissed you, the other hand roamed your torso feverishly. You gripped his shoulders to steady yourself as the massive man dominated your mouth. His hand made its way under your shirt fondling your bare breasts. His rough fingertips grazed over your nipples drawing small moans and whimpers from you.

König detached himself from your mouth and started to nibble and kiss your scent glands. Your toes curled as your Omega mewled and purred. You opened your legs wider so his hips slot in between them perfectly. He released a deep growl, pleased at your compliance. He lifted your shirt up and over your head throwing it somewhere unseen. König kissed down your body giving your neck and a few licks before continuing the journey down. König slid your shorts and panties off in a swift movement.

He folded your legs up keeping his hands under your knees giving him full access to you. Your folds were dripping with slickness, ready to receive attention from your Alpha. He gave a long flat lick over your clit making you shiver. His tongue moved expertly around it quickly learning what makes you writhe. The gentle sucks and teasing licks were driving you over the edge. You moaned louder and louder gripping his hair. Every time you'd get close he'd slow down and tease your clit once again.

“Alpha...please.” You cried.

König looked at you through his eyelashes, a predatory glint in his eye. Your legs shook with every movement his tongue made. You whimpered loudly begging him to let you cum.

“Please Alpha. Please please please let me cum.” Your breathing is increasingly labored.

König hummed pleased with your begging and went back to ravishing your clit. You came quickly and hard your thighs squeezing the sides of his head. You felt your slit coat his mouth and drip onto the bed. He released your legs, they dangled over the side of the bed lazily. König stood up licking his lips of your juices. He unbuckled his pants and pulled them down. His cock sprung out with force slapping his stomach. In your orgasm, dazed state all you could do was stare at the large appendage. König pulled down to the edge of the bed making you sit up. He caressed your face with his thumb.

“You like what you see Schatz?” He asked teasingly.

He guided you off the bed to a kneeling position, he grabbed the hair around the crown of your head tightly. You nodded looking up at your giant Alpha. With his other hand, he rubbed his wet tip against your lips gently asking for you to open up. You parted your lips and König wasted no time filling your mouth. He sighed deeply using your hair to guide your head in long strokes. You pressed your tongue against the underside of his dick sucking gently.

“Just like that Omega.” He groaned.

König thrusted gently into your mouth trying his best not to choke you. He felt the back of your throat rub his tip with every thrust making him moan. He moved your head faster ripples of pleasure ran up his spine every time your lips puckered sliding over his shaft. He felt himself get closer and closer the hand in your hair gripped tighter. His grunts turned into short growls. Right before he came he pulled you off of his cock, a string of saliva connecting your mouth to his tip.

König bent down and picked you up under your thighs, placing your butt on the edge of the bed. He used his arm to hold your legs together, you rested them on his left shoulder. He leaned down pressing his tip in between your folds. He used one hand to hold both of your ankles and the other hand guided his cock into your heat. The tip pushed in with ease your wetness making him growl lowly. You whimpered as he stretched you out trying your best to relax. He pushed in slowly thrusting occasionally to help you get used to his girth. Every inch he pushed into you he restrained himself with a hiss.

König looked down at your face, scrunched up in pleasure. He pressed his hand onto your stomach keeping you in place as he rocked into you. When he finally bottomed out you were a quivering moaning mess. You had never had sex with an Alpha. He was going to ruin you for anyone else. König started thrusting at a painfully slow pace, making sure you were adjusting and not in any serious pain. He leaned down pressing your thighs into your torso creating an angle that had you seeing stars. His thrust gradually got faster. König clenched his jaw tightly, your wetness pulled growls from his throat.

“You're being such a good Omega, you take me so nicely.” He said breathlessly.

You clenched around his cock tightly at his praise. Your tits bounced as his thrusts increasingly got harder and rougher. He used his thumb to rub gentle circles around your sensitive clit as he thrusts. You moaned and gasped as he pulled you closer to your second orgasm. His thrusts became animalistic in nature, almost making you scream at the force.

“You're mine...Say it.” König growled out.

“I-I'm yours Alpha.” You managed to stutter out weakly.

“Louder.” He pounded into you harder.

“I'm yours!” You screamed.

Your orgasm hit you like a freight train. Your body shook and spasmed on his cock. You felt his knot grow, catching the edge of your hole. The sensitivity making you twitch. König came with a loud guttural moan, locking his knot inside you.

König gently opened your legs so you can straddle him. He picked you up bringing your face close to his. Your eyes were glazed over and your breathing still hadn't slowed. He kissed you gently before nuzzling his nose into your scent glands. He laid you down on the bed rotating you so your back is to his chest. He tried his best not to move his knot but the position change still made you whimper. He pulled his blanket over your body and held you close keeping his nose buried in your neck. You purred softly as he gave you gentle kisses. You fell asleep quickly and the Alpha followed suit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bed shifted stirring you awake. Everything around you smelt like König, including yourself. The dull ache in between your thighs was enough to remind you of last night's events. König snuggled into your hair inhaling deeply. He was incredibly infatuated with this Omega. You caressed his broad arms that were wrapped around you.

“Morning Kö.”

“Good Morning, Schatz. How are you feeling?”

“A little sore but I'm ok.”

“Was I too rough with you? I'm sorry.” He apologized quickly.

“No König, you were fine. Better than fine. You were amazing.” You said with a giggle.

König smiled and got up, stretching his back. He walked to his closet to get some clean clothes. You couldn't help but stare at his perfectly square butt and small waist.

“I'll make you breakfast, Ja?”

“Mm, I'd like that.”

He got dressed and went to the kitchen. You snuggled in his sheets smiling to yourself. Your Alpha has knotted you. You wondered if he'd take the next step with you. Your inner Omega ached at the thought of König marking you. You knew he wouldn't without an explicit and long talk about it. He wanted to make sure you had no doubts about being marked by him. König came back after a few minutes with an omelet for you. You sat and took the plate happily. König watched you with adoration as you ate. You were such a good little Omega, so perfect for him. His inner Alpha was at his loudest today than he had ever been.

After you ate you got up and went to your room to get dressed. Your legs still trembled and ached but you ignored it. You changed into comfy clothes and grabbed a blanket from your nest to snuggle with on the couch. You put on your favorite cartoon and bundled up. König joined you after a little while, having made breakfast for himself. He ate quickly and turned to look at you.

“Schatz, I have something to speak with you about.” He said.

You got nervous at his tone but smiled anyways. “What is it?”

“After Christmas, I have to go back to work.”

“...Yeah well, I know.” You said sounding a little disappointed.

“That means that sometimes, I will be gone for weeks at a time. Sometimes even months.”

You nodded looking down. He continued.

“My job...It's dangerous. I come home hurt sometimes. One day, I may not come home at all.”

“Kö, don't say that please.”

“It is the truth, Schatz. If you are to be mine, I need you to understand these things.”

“But, I don't want to think that every time you leave you might die. That makes it so much harder.” The thought made you tear up.

König scooted closer to you and pressed your head into his chest, holding you in a tight embrace.

“No, you don't have to think that, I've survived this long. But now I have someone to live for. I will come home to you, always.”

“You promise?”

“I promise, Schatz.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bonus: Ghost and Soap.

The bar was loud and lively. König had left a few minutes ago to be with his Omega, leaving Ghost and Soap to their own devices.

“So, what do you think about her?” Soap asked referring to Konigs Omega.

“She's sweet, it'll do him good to have someone soft in his life.” Ghost responded.

“Yeah, I was thinking about it myself.”

Ghost raised an eyebrow. “What? Doing that match-making bullshit?”

“It worked for that big brute, why couldn't it work for me?” Soap chuckled.

Ghost didn't really have an answer. He'd be lying if he said he didn't think about signing up after hearing about König's success with the program. Romance wasn't really his thing. He had ignored his Alpha for so long that he barely feels him anymore. But seeing the Colonel and his Omega gave him hope. Maybe there was someone out there. Someone made for him, someone perfect for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

taglist:

@that-fangirl-1106 @itsryuken @midwesternwitchery @hiken-no-stark @rouge-swears @the-chaotic-cow @a-gay-cryptid @wybwtjmiadz @somanyminidragons @tizylish @smutslutsposts @y2katsuki @thychuvaluswife @gxdsmonsters @undeadgod @multy-fandom-lover @cloudyyjanee @bobafett-tea @mxkaylaj

I hope I got everyone!

#konig fluff #konig mw2 #konig cod #konig x you #konig x reader #könig fanfiction #könig x reader #könig cod #könig call of duty #könig #könig x y/n #könig x you #alpha könig #alpha konig #alpha/beta/omega au #tw a/b/o #a/b/o fic #a/b/o dynamics #alpha König x reader

[redwineandtarot]

Who are you?

hi! today's pac is all about you. i want to say that every person has so many layers and this a general (and a too short to describe a person fully) reading. so please keep this in mind while reading. you may be drawn to more than one pile in this reading as well. take what resonates and leave what doesn’t. i would love to hear your feedbacks <3

decks used: raider waite tarot deck, ethereal visions tarot deck, spirit animal oracle deck, the soul's journey lesson cards, moonology oracle cards, archetypes cards

🥀paid readings🥀

Disclaimer:My readings do NOT replace any professional advice. Use your own judgment while making decisions. You have your own free will. Take everything I say light-heartedly. All of my readings are for ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES.

pick a pile

pile 1-2

pile 3-4

i do not own any of these photos

pile 1

I see that you mostly radiate feminine energy. And you are highly spiritual in some way. You have a gift of manifesting. Of course everybody can manifest things intentionally but your approach is kinda different? It is like you have mastered manifesting from the get go.

You may also have a great protective barrier around you. I kinda struggled to read your energy. You really have a highly spiritual vibe. Even if you are not that spiritual you have the “gift”. Everybody can be spiritual, I mean, however something about you feels different. I cannot really put my finger to it.

Number 4 may be significant. 

You have really strong feminine energy and like the feminine energy you can deal with chaos. You can bring chaos in an intentional way. You are not afraid to put an end to things and start new. You can use chaos to manifest the things you want.

Water element may be significant.

While you are a spiritual person you know when to use your logic. Your logic and spiritual sides are not in war but they, together, help you move through life. 

You may sometimes be sharp with your words despite you giving me a calm energy. You have a calm and intentional chaos. You may be witty and win arguments easily.

You may sometimes be indecisive about your intuition. You may have a knowing inside you but just because you don't see a real life “proof”, so you may find it hard to believe it.

You may also have guilt while enjoying worldly pleasures. In the end we are still living in a material world so do not shy away from them. As long as you do not have addictions and know when to say “no”  it is okay, pile 1.

Embrace your chaotic side.

Extra messages

You may have been waiting for a manifestation for a long time. Do not worry it will come in an unexpected time. Whatever you are doing, keep going. 

I also see an unexpected emotional situation happening. You may be meeting someone new (romantic or platonic), you may hear something that will make you feel really happy or this again may be your manifestation coming and you feeling intense emotions regarding that.

saturn, sagittarius, 3rd house

thank you for reading <3

pile 2

You are a highly creative person, pile 2. For most of you, this is a creativeness in art, music etc. However this can be in other things as well. Or you may bring this side of yourself to your daily life while being a creative person in art. You are really original when it comes to creativity.

You have a colorful personality. You may use art to heal yourself. You may be expressing things that you cannot while talking with others through your art. Some of you had nothing but art/music while you were growing up so it became like your friend. It healed you.

Number 5 may be significant.

You have a child-like energy to you. You are in balance with your emotions. Maybe because of these two qualities you are able to create such wonderful things.

You have spirit guides that are near you a lot. They encourage you on your path. See you like their friend.

Another intuitive pile. You have a great intuition. You may want to try channeling through art.

You may hide your sorrows, abandoning them almost sometimes. But you try to nurture your inner child. I am not sure what happened in the past pile 2, it is probably different for each one of you but i want to say that you are such a brave person for not leaving your inner child alone. Something that happened in your childhood(mostly) or teenage years may have scarred you a lot and you are still trying to heal yourself. 

People may envy your creativity. And see you as an abundant person. And you probably are. And I see you living an abundant life. (Abundance may be in different or multiple things) You deserve it pile 2.

Your words are powerful. I see lots of different talents: singing, painting, writing etc. 

Extra messages

Do not burden yourself with little details. You may benefit from slowing down a bit and looking at the bigger picture.

Maybe you need a little vacation or an adventure.

sagittarius, 5th house, north node

thank you for reading <3

pile 3

You are a healer in some sort of way pile 3. You may be the mom friend of the group. You may work/ want to work in a medical field or a field where you help beings. But for most of you it is related to health. You are great at giving advice and hyping people up. You see the little details in people that they may not see. You are a detail-oriented person. Your observations are on point most of the time.

You have what it takes to be a great leader. 

You are a multifaceted person.

You may be more on the quiet side. But not because you are shy, it is just a preference. You probably have a friend group that you would give so much to. You love and prefer grounded relationships. You are not likely to have a big friend group or a friend group whose bonds are loose. You like your alone time.

Spirit is protecting your loved ones.

You are ready to work hard for the things you want. I see that you have great visions/big dreams for yourself. However you keep them on the low. You probably work hard in silence. 

You value your peace and are not afraid to leave something for your happiness.

You give me so much earthy energy. You probably honor nature and love spending time out in nature.

You may fear failure. And can sometimes leave things at a place where you have one more step to go for achieving your goal. 

Extra messages

You may have something in your mind that you are afraid of pursuing; whether it is a relationship, a job, a hobby etc. Do not back away and go forward with it. But not in a fiery way. Think thoroughly. Depending on what you want to pursue, you may need to make a plan first. A practical plan. After that, spirit gives you the green light to go forward!

12th house, neptune, taurus

thank you for reading <3

pile 4

You are a playful person. You like to have fun, at the same time pursue your goals. You may have fire placements in your chart because I sense a lot of fiery energy from you.

You may like partying or just having fun around. You like earthly pleasures and are not shameful about it. 

You wish to improve yourself. You may like self help books, philosophy or anything that will broaden your vision. 

You may sometimes try to run away from your emotions. You can even use a way of escapism like social media, partying, tw!substances etc. Balance is key pile 4, if you really struggle with escapism you may want to get help from a therapist.

You can achieve great success and build some sort of wealth in this lifetime. You have what it takes to do it. You are not afraid to go after what you want and stand tall. Your words may sometimes be sharp.

You may like to dance and even be a dancer. This is a confirmation if you were thinking about taking a dance class, go for it!

You may sometimes be too much in your head. Almost like an addiction despite your carefree attitude towards life.

You also have a gentle side to yourself. It is not up front but you still have it. You value the people in your life a lot. You probably show this gentle side of you to your loved ones.

People most likely find your eyes beautiful.

People may envy you a lot. While we all have struggles whether we show it or not; people are prone to think that you have it all. You may also have lots of admirers.

You may meet important people on your journey to success (like soul family, soulmate etc.)

Extra messages

Keep being you and do not be afraid! You have a lot to contribute to this world in your own unique way, pile 4. You may want to start meditating and listening to your emotions a little more. Hear what they are saying. 

1st house, virgo, uranus

thank you for reading <3

#pac #pick a card #tarot #tarot reading #pick a pile #pick a picture #intuitive reading #pac reading

[temis-de-leon]

Replaced MC AU/AU - Intro

Characters: demon brothers, Diavolo, Barbatos, gn!MC and gn!NES (New Exchange Student)

How’s it gonna be , Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

Masterlist

CW: insecure and jealous MC, condescending Diavolo and Lucifer, they like that you're jealous but they mean no harm

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The brothers tried not to smile when they saw MC’s pout, most of them enjoying their insecurity to some extent and letting it feed their egos. It was flattering, seeing them jealous of the possible presence of a new human, the threat of being replaced by the newest atraction. And although MC knew they didn’t really want to cause any harm, it was impossible not to feel a pang in their chest when they saw how interested the demons were in bringing another human.

“But I don’t understand” they said “Why do you need another exchange student from the human realm? You already have Solomon and me”

Diavolo laughed and crossed his arms over his chest, looking at their frown with condescendence before bringing his serious diplomatic expression back and explaining himself once again, this time slower.

“We think the program could work better if there was a human more similar to you, someone with a normal lifespan and a more… naive understanding of magic”

“Having Solomon as the second human student would only slow the process of building a relationship with the human realm” intervened Lucifer with a know-it-all smile.

“We need another human that acts like a human” concluded the prince.

But still, it didn’t make any sense. Having a regular human wouldn’t speed the process, not unless they were an important political figure, in which case it wouldn’t be a regular human anymore; and even then, two humans on their own would never be able to convince the whole world to accept Diavolo’s offer.

Their explanation sounded like a convenience and MC suspected with a heavy heart that what the royals and the brothers really wanted was something different that could expand their knowledge on the modern human society; as if MC was a comfort plushie from their childhood that would be there no matter how abandoned they felt.

They didn’t want to hurt their feelings, MC knew that, but lying made everything worse. What if the new exchange student brought more than they could ever offer, even with their powers? What if they were prettier or more interesting or stronger? What if MC wasn’t enough anymore?

“You’ll always be our favourite human, MC” murmured Belphie with a soft smile, guessing their thoughts.

He said it with good intentions, no doubt, but MC grew angry nonetheless. What made him think he was the right one to say that? He, who wanted to destroy all human mankind over a grudge and a misunderstanding, suddenly wanted to meet more humans?

MC scoffed and crossed their arms, knowing the new student would be there no matter how jealous or insecure that made them feel.

“And when will they be here?”

.

.

Just one month passed until they were all present in the castle, impatiently waiting for the new human to arrive.

The brothers had spent everything they had on MC: free time, money and words of affirmation, but none of that seemed to have any type of importance when they all looked so happy to be there.

Only half of them were there the first time MC arrived, for crying out loud!

“Is everyone ready?” Barbatos asked stepping into the red circle engraved on the floor.

He didn’t wait for an answer before opening the portal. Had he waited, MC would’ve begged for a couple of minutes. They felt their heart beating in their throat, acting like an obstacle for the bile that threatened to come out.

A figure appeared with a flash of light, gasping and grasping their chest with urgency. The mist cleared within seconds and all of them stared at the new human with open wide eyes, simply watching as they got up on their feet, alarmed at their surroundings and looking at everyone like a prey amongst predators, which wasn’t that far off.

Not even a minute later, their gaze stopped on MC and their expression softened, instincts surely recognizing the only other human in the room.

“Hey”

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.

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I'm going to tag everyone who specifically asked me to tag them and some of those who wrote the positive feedback because i love you all (but if you don't want me to, just tell me, i won't get offended): @stfuchaase @k1-an @megs-wonderland @kkeromenoo @va109 @marvelous-maniac @cruzerforce4256 @blarsh @marathedemonoverlord @junni-berry

#obey me #obey me! shall we date? #om! shall we date #om! swd #replaced mc au #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me angst #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me x reader #obey me x mc #obey me mc #obey me x gender neutral reader