#I might just put in my resignation letter

[simple-friend]

Dune part 2 is out.

me : yaay, more sci-fi, Zendaya, sand, giant worms, and Timothy.

my boss : Here is your mission's order 📃. You need to get back working in the desert 🏜 that earthing study won't do itself. you will work for 10 hours daily, beware of the worms, snakes, and scorpions.

[laughroditee]

You're Coming With Me | A COD fanfic

Simon had been on his way to meet up with the rest of the task force when he heard a tiny mewling off to the left near the woods.  Scanning the tall grass, he paused mid-stroll, his dark eyes falling upon a tiny orange kitten emerging from the underbrush.

“Meow!”

“Where’s your mum?” Simon asked, keeping his eyes and ears open for any signs of other kittens or a mother cat. Unfortunately, there were none.  This cat was probably around three to four weeks old; it was not going to survive on its own.  Bloody hell, he thought, squatting down to seem less threatening, holding out a hand, palm down. 

The kitten slowly approached him, noisily chirping and mewling. With its hackles raised, the kitten’s back slowly arched in a ferocious display, snaking sideways toward him in an effort to scare him away. 

Simon barked out a laugh. “Spitfire, huh?  Come on then, do your worst.”

An airy hiss and a swat were the kitten’s best efforts.

Beneath his balaclava, Simon smiled.  A few raindrops falling from the sky decided for him.  “Can’t stay out here, love.  You’re coming with me.” He looked down at himself.  Where the fuck was he going to put a kitten?  The kangaroo pocket on his hoodie might scare the poor thing, and it’s not like it would fit into his pants pocket.  Pulling his arms in through the sleeves, he turned his sweatshirt around to put the hood in front.  As gently as he could, he picked the orange tabby up, his large hand swallowing it whole, its tiny legs poking out from between his fingers.

He was met with Hell’s fury and a stern letter to the manager as he nestled the tiny thing into the soft basket of his hood.

“Easy, love.  You’re alright.  Let’s get you home.”

Simon cradled the kitten in his hood the rest of the way, his feet striding faster as the rain got heavier.

The pub wasn’t too busy this time of day, so it was easy to spot his teammates.

Price was the first to greet him.  A simple head nod and glass lift always did the job while a chorus of “Ghost!” and “L.T.!” rang out simultaneously from Gaz and Soap.

“Yer late, L.T.”

“Sorry, Johnny, I was bringin’ a friend.”  He carefully moved his hand away from the hood, and the kitten’s head popped out of it to much “oooing” and “aaahing.”

“And who is this?” Price, ever the gentleman, asked for introductions right away.

“I’m callin’ her ‘Honey*,’” Simon said as the kitten in question climbed onto his shoulder, meowing insistently at him.

“Aww, Ghost, that’s a sweet name–” said Gaz.

"Named her after my gun."

There was a pause and the sound of resigned acceptance.  "Of course you did."

“How do you know it's a girl?" Soap asked, examining Honey and trying to pet her.

"She ain't got balls."  Simon picked Honey up and turned her butt to Soap’s face.

Gaz sniggered into his drink while Price just smiled in his amused fatherly way. "Good work, Simon.  Good work."

*Honey, as in the Honey Badger gun, or the Chimera as it’s renamed in the Modern Warfare II and III games.

[chaoticbardlady99]

Maryë (Astarion x GN! AFAB Reader) MDNI 18 +

Synopsis: Astarion left to explore the world and himself following the death of the Netherbrain. You remain in Baldur’s Gate with your brother, Gale, resigning yourself to your fate as Astarion’s friend until you die. Until one day, you and Astarion begin to write letters back and forth. Except there is one letter in particular that you suspect isn’t from Astarion…

CW: minimal mentions of violence, smut, Oral (Female Receiving), PIV, Tav’s also just an oblivious idiot who apparently doesn’t think very hard about words (it’s me, I’m Tav the idiot and this is like my Fiancé and I’s friendship prior to ya know, dating lmfao)

Author note- I might also write this in AMAB! Format, but I need to do some… research first for accuracy. This is lightly edited and just some silly little thought I had. I wanted to write something not so detailed for once while I work on my drafts for Lethal Woman and She’s Not Acid Nor Alkaline. Also def stole a line from Tolkien and added to it at the end (this is me crediting).

You’ll either love this or hate this idk.

The title literally translates to Home in Elvish.

Photo belongs to idk who so please reach out if it’s yours!

As always- likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated, I am just terrible at responding.

Tav,

As much as I enjoy our current form of communication- I was wondering if I could come to see you in person.

I have so much I need to say to you and I want to be able to do it in person- the proper way.

I hope to hear from you soon.

Yours,

Astarion

You sit and stare at the letter like you have been doing for the last week since you received it. Unlike your half-brother, Gale, you are not one for words. It was hard to respond to Astarion’s letters initially until Gale “doctored” your responses- often putting whatever silly accomplishment you have achieved lately or stories Gale found interesting from your recent solo adventures.

“Are you going to write the letter or are you hoping it’s going to write itself?” Gale teases.

You scowl at him and shake your head.

“I don’t know what to write back.”

“I could come up with a couple things!” Gale clears his throat, “‘ Oh Astarion- I’ve missed you terribly this whole time! I regret telling you that we should be friends until you figure things out! Despite my VERY WISE BROTHER’S ADVICE TO NOT DO THAT! I wait like a lovesick puppy at the mailbox every week hoping a letter may arrive!’”

You roll your eyes at him and throw one of his many decorative couch pillows at his head. He certainly has your mother’s flair for the dramatic. However, you can’t necessarily say he’s wrong- you have been nothing less than a smitten school girl waiting for letters non-stop.

Astarion had gone back to the Underdark after the last battle with the Netherbrain. He told you that he wanted to go and explore who he is- the world too.

You had been as enthusiastic as you could about the decision considering you had come up to him at the party with a letter in your hands asking if he would like to continue traveling with you after this- you had been too scared to say it outloud. A part of you hoped it may allow your romance to blossom without the impending threat of death at every corner. Well, if he still harbored any feelings for you at all.

You had merely smiled and told him how excited you are for him. It answered the silent question that had been there- was there still room in Astarion’s heart for you after you said you should just be friends and try again later?

The answer was ‘no’, despite Gale’s perplexed face and lecture when he found out you gave the spawn a send off with a ‘long’ hug (he made you describe it in detail). You refuse to give yourself any hope- you will remain a dutiful friend since you resigned yourself to this fate.

Then you received a Sending spell with him requesting your address and the letters began. You squealed like a schoolgirl when the first one came in and ripped it open enthusiastically. You didn’t realize Gale was home, otherwise you wouldn’t have read it out in the open- Tara snitched on you!

You had only truly met Gale around a couple months prior to your mutual abduction. Your mother had asked you to assist a brother you never knew about in finding magical artifacts- you quickly learned it was because the man was becoming a damn recluse.

You had worried he’d slam the door in your face or turn you into a sheep for all of eternity- the minute you told him your name was Tav Dekarios, he pulled you in for a hug and told you he had been awaiting your arrival. Gale was thrilled to know that, like him, you were also a prodigy in your craft.

You are a virtuoso master with any instrument you touch and you cast spells that are almost far too good to be true. You became Oghma’s Chosen in your teen years after spending many years practicing under his mentorship (which is why you and Gale had a very weird, serious talk one night about how Mystra is kind of a fucking pedophile) and that allowed you to do incredible things.

Your notes could create shimmery images and tell stories- Arabella and the other tiefling children (even the very tough Mol) enjoy coming over and watching war tales be told with nothing but a drum and a rain stick. Sometimes you let them tell tales and you come up with a tune to match it- eventually finding a rhythm to put your mind into and create the picture.

It was one of the many things Astarion mentioned in his note- he stated that none of the other Bards even begin to hold a candle to your talent. You blushed deeply when you read the line.

He told you about everything he had seen, everyone he had met, what he’s found out about himself, and shockingly enough- how much he misses you. It had taken you by total surprise, but you responded saying you missed him too.

Pet names began to flow easily into inked lines and it felt like you had a tiny part of him back in your life- your friendship is still as strong as it was before he left.

The letters have quickly become the best part of your week and occasionally you’ll read them with Arabella. She ooos and awwws, then attempts to bully you into tell Astarion your feelings. You cast a mini rain shower over her head with a few poetic words for the suggestion. You don’t want to ruin what you have and there is always the possibility that he found someone else.

However, you weren’t unsure of this particular note because you didn’t want to see Astarion- you would love that. The issue is that it doesn’t look like his handwriting, it isn’t the paper he uses (he’s ridiculously particular), and it doesn’t flow. Gale thinks you are over analyzing it, but you are pretty sure that this isn’t Astarion’s writing. He also addresses you as “Darling” not Tav and signs the letter of with “‘Órenya ná órelya” (my heart is your heart) not “Yours”.

You’ve waited for another note to come in since, but nothing has. You are beginning to wonder if Gale is right and you really are just being paranoid.

“I already told you, Gale,” you say with annoyance, “something isn’t right about this note. I don’t think this is from him which is worrisome because that means I haven’t heard from him in two weeks WHICH could MEAN-“

“For the love of Gods- TAV,” Gale yells, effectively shutting you up, “my young, oblivious little sibling. Just say yes and let him come visit.”

*********************************************************

It had been two days since you sent the sending stone and there was no response. Not that it would have mattered anyway considering you are somewhere in the Underdark in a very beautifully lit cave. Neon, blue veins of magic run through the rock. The pathway is lit with glowing flowers and…. Benches?

It had all happened so fast. One moment you were walking home from the market and the next- Astarion had come up to you from an alleyway and said he needed help. He had told you that he would love to catch up, but there is an injured child around the corner and since he can only stay in the shadows, he needs you to help them. Before you knew it- someone hit you with a sleep spell and the last thing you remember seeing is stars as your head slammed into the pavement. Oh and a, “oooooffff my bad” before you blacked out.

You blink your eyes a few more times, trying to figure out what in the wretched hells is going on.

“Oh for the love of- I told you to talk to Oghma’s Chosen! Not kidnap her and give her a serious concussion!”

A hazy, short figure comes into your vision. Is that…. a Deep Gnome?

“You told us it was imperative for the wedding! We intercepted the real letter and wrote this one,” another Gnome says, “and it worked! They showed up and everything! We’ve been watching since you told us to talk to her two weeks ago! We were running out of time for talking and bargaining so we just-“

“Kidnapped them!” the man yells, “you kidnapped them!? You- you imbeciles! They are supposed to want to perform for the wedding- you had at least six more hours! AND I GAVE YOU TWO WEEKS!”

“But Walby-“

Walby.

You know Walby! He and Barcus have been dating for a while now and the two are over the moon smitten. You are very happy for Barcus- this man is everything Wulbern could never be.

“No! I have had enough of your silliness! Leave me at once!”

You hear the three Gnomes that supposedly ambushed you walk off in angry huffs. A flash of healing magic fills the air and your head is finally clear- your ears no longer ringing like a triangle.

“My apologies, Ms.Dekarios,” Walby, says, “I wanted them to give you an invitation to come to Barcus’ and I’s wedding this afternoon, but as you heard, they are not the brightest bunch.

“It’s a very last minute ceremony- my mother is ill and she wants to see her ‘baby’ get married before she goes. We wanted to wait another year to plan, but oh you know how it goes!”

Walby looks at you sheepishly as you blink a few more times and let his words sink in. You look at the man and try not to throw up from sitting upright. You must have been out for a while, but not in a “oh that was a wonderful beauty nap” kind of way. You are pretty sure you have a decent amount of blood caked to the side of your head and neck right now.

“Oh, well in that case,” you offer a good natured smile, “I’ll consider this the most unique wedding invitation I’ve ever received and one I may not even have the privilege of remembering.”

The man laughs heartily as you stand up and brush your clothing off. You’re glad you wore a nicer outfit today and decided to bring your violin along- Oghma must have wanted to make sure you were prepared.

“I also wanted to ask a favor,” he says meekly, “if I haven’t fallen out of your good graces before I even stepped foot in them- that is.”

You smile and just roll your eyes.

“Consider it water under the bridge. How can I be of service?”

“Well, you see- we had asked an acquaintance of ours to play music and uh. There’s no easy way to put this, but he was run over by a herd of Deep Rothé.”

“Hmm,” you say with a snort, “tough crowd- Deep Rothés.”

Ultimately, you agreed to perform for the ceremony and the little dinner party afterwards. Your music decorated the air with golds and silvers. Barcus was thrilled to have you there and thanked you immensely for allowing his mother-in-law to “witness true magic” before she leaves this plane.

By the time you were finally leaving- you hear two very familiar voices scream your name and come barreling towards you.

*****************************************

Astarion and Gale are practically sprinting as they try to track your location through the streets of Baldur’s Gate. They had just found a large spot of your blood sticking to the cobblestone and leading to the sewer. Astarion feels sick when he notices the path leads back into the Crimson Palace. Thankfully it was through the sewer and straight to the tunnel of the Underdark.

He had sent you a letter a few days ago and he had confessed his feelings. Instead of waiting for you to respond like a sane person, Astarion got the hell out of the inn he was staying at and began the four day trek to Baldur’s Gate. The nice part about traveling alone and not needing to breath is that Astarion could run from place to place if he was in a hurry or was just fed up with traveling already.

Astarion quickly learned that it was boring to be alone and it’s far more fun to share adventures with you. He also learned that he might be a semi-decent person on his own because, in spite of being without your physical presence, he continues to fucking help people. Astarion is really over this whole moral compass thing (it only extends so far though, he’s still a proud Bastard at heart).

When he arrived at your home about an hour and a half ago, Gale had informed him that you had gone out to the Market and was confused when Astarion said his letter shouldn’t have arrived yet. It took longer than usual to write for… reasons.

Gale showed him the note you received and the two of them pieced together that someone had definitely set up a trap- just not a very good one. Astarion pinched the bridge of his nose when Gale told him that you definitely figured out the letter wasn’t from him, but Gale encouraged you to respond anyway.

A part of him is incredibly worried that some of the remaining Bhaal cultists have taken you since they are the only people he could think of that would be able to mimic his form. His stomach still turns when he thinks about the time they realized Orin had taken you. This is giving him the same queasy feeling.

So imagine his and Gale’s surprise when you are walking away from some random spot seemingly unscathed. Except Astarion won’t believe that until he has inspected you for injuries himself.

You look positively shell-shocked to see him and even more surprised when he’s taking your face gently in his hands and begins to check for injuries.

“Are you alright, Darling?” He says in a far more panicked voice than he means to, “we found blood- I thought the worst and your idiot brother! Of course that letter wasn’t from me! I have class, my Dear! I would never use that paper and WHY IN THE HELLS WOULD YOU FOLLOW ME OF ALL PEOPLE!?”

He knows his ‘rage’ doesn’t sound like rage- it sounds like a man who thought his only love had been on the brink of death only moments ago. Astarion is trying to keep a serious face, but the adoration and love in your eyes when you look at him is making him want to dissolve. He’s thrilled to see that after a whole year of not being together that your feelings haven’t waivered. Neither have his, obviously, but that’s why he’s here.

“I will say, Tav,” Gale says with exasperation, “you even gave Tara a fright- you should be expecting a very long lecture when we get home.”

“Oh I’m sure I will,” you say with a beaming smile, your eyes never leaving Astarion’s, “but I do have quite the story if you would like to hear it?”

Astarion’s grin stretches across his entire face.

“I think a good story, better company, and some wine would make for a fine evening, my Dear.”

“Gross!” Gale says, “but I’ll tag along for some wine.”

Oh dammit.

****************************

If Astarion wasn’t so busy feasting upon you- then he probably would have already hunted down those stupid Gnomes that gave him a fright and found a windmill to fling them from. Gale had left only 15 minutes ago, but Astarion had made quick work in getting you up to his room and having his way with you.

The minute Gale left, the conversation became flirty and teasing- all the want that has been pooling in his body is finally getting the release it needs. You, like always, are a sight to behold.

Your back arches when his tongue drags along your clit and Astarion pushes your hips down into the mattress as your arousal paints his lips. Your moans and desperate cries of pleasure are so delicious and his cock is painfully hard, straining against his leather pants.. He is fighting between taking his time and being selfish- chasing his own pleasure inside of you.

The moment you clench around his fingers is the same moment he unlaces his own pants and begins to remove them. You keen and whine underneath him- Astarion’s name sounds the best coming from you in this state.

Astarion should be a gentleman, hypothetically, and maybe give you a half a second to be a little less dazed from your orgasm. Except Astarion isn’t a gentleman and he isn’t patient- at all.

Astarion lifts your hips up to his until the head of his cock is aligned with your entrance and he thrusts himself inside of you. You immediately wrap your legs around his hips with a yelp of pleasure and your eyes flutter wildly as you take his whole length. Astarion smiles down at you as he slowly rocks in and out of you.

Your fingers find their way to his hair and you pull Astarion’s face down to yours- stunning him with a mind numbing kiss. He snaps his hips at the sensation and the moan you let out causes whatever resolve he had to break. Astarion releases the hold you have on his lips and kisses along your jaw up to your ear.

“Did you like that, my Love?”

You hum in approval and try to pull his mouth back to yours. He interrupts you by thrusting into you two more times with more power than the first one.

“Asta-,,” you attempt to say his name between thrusts, “Astarion please.”

“You didn’t answer my question, Pet,” he teases, “I don’t even know if I know what you like anymore- maybe you don’t even like thi-“

Your legs tighten around his hips as he goes to pull completely out of you. Astarion quirks his eyebrow at you with a smirk as you look at him with desperation.

“I more than liked it- I loved it,” you whisper with your cheeks burning from your shyness.

Oh and how Astarion loves your shyness. His hands fist the sheets as he starts his agonizingly slow rhythm inside of you again- whimpers falling from deep within your chest.

“See, Darling,” Astarion says as his face falls into the crook of your neck, “that wasn’t so difficult, now was it?”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond before Astarion’s hips begin to pick up speed and his mouth covers yours. As much as he loves to hear you moan- he doesn’t care to share that experience with any of the patrons that had been obviously checking you out while you were catching up.

Astarion groans against your lips as he continues to fuck you relentlessly- his fangs nip at your lower lip and lap at the tiny droplets of blood that seep from the punctures.

You are a mess underneath him and you feel incredible in every way possible. Astarion never wanted this to stop in the first place- back when he had told you his feelings and you said it would be best to be friends for the time being.

Perhaps that’s what causes him to slow down and kiss you deeply- making up for the lack of speed with more force. One of his hands trails along your chest and begins to tease your sensitive nipples- your walls clench around him hard when he begins to pinch and roll the right one and your orgasm coats him as he moves to play with the left.

You kiss him sloppily and he’s lazily thrusting into you- his own Little Death following yours within seconds. Astarion collapses on top of you as he begins to soften inside of you. The smell of you and him mixed together is intoxicating and your heartbeat is hammering from the pleasure- your eyes glassy and tired with bliss. He laughs breathily before placing a kiss on your swollen lips.

Astarion lifts you up ever so slightly so that he can pull the blanket down and over you, then he adjusts himself and you so that you are curled up with your ear pressed against his chest. He strokes your hair absentmindedly and you lightly draw shapes on his chest.

“I’m so glad you’re back,” you say sleepily, “I’ve missed you so much.”

I’ve missed you too, Darling,” Astarion says while pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I’m happy to be home.”

“Oh I’m sure Baldur’s Gate is-“

“You are my home,” Astarion interrupts you, “I’ve come to realize that wherever you are is where I want to be.”

You look up at him with tears in your eyes and happiness in your heart.

“But what about exploring your new life and all of that jazz?”

“Darling, I wouldn’t have a life if it weren’t for you,” Astarion states, “you helped me kill Cazador and break the cycle of ongoing abuse. You gave me life so I could live it and I want to live it with you. I’m tired of pretending I’m okay with just being friends and holding back my feelings. I want to share my life with you.

“I know this may all seem very fast, but” Astarion grabs his pants off the ground and he feels his stomach turn as he pulls the box out of his pocket, “I know I love you- that’s probably the only thing I’ve ever been sure of in my entire 239 years of existence. I- I wanted to know if you would… marry me?”

Your lips are on his within seconds and the two of you become entangled in soft kisses until you have to pull back for air. You lean your forehead against his and meet his gaze.

“I love you so much, Astarion. Yes- yes I will marry you,” you say tearfully, “I want to share my life with you too.”

[graceful-starker]

Tony the Friendly Ghost

Summary: Peter's house is haunted by a very friendly, very horny ghost.

Warnings: mild dub-con for a second there, Tony is a ghost, mild come inflation, mostly just an excuse to write ghost porn ngl.

Notes: Blame @the-mad-starker for this one, ngl lol. I might add more to this AU, but I wanted to get the first installment out on Halloween. Happy Halloween!

~~~

Peter isn’t crazy, okay? His apartment is just haunted. He doesn’t care that MJ rolls her eyes in disbelief or that Ned laughs at him for believing in ghosts. There’s definitely, 100%, for sure a ghost in his apartment. 

Peter winces as his ghost moves his couch loudly, the legs screeching horribly against the floor and thudding into the wall. “Okay, that’s really unnecessary!” Peter yells, walking into the living room and putting his hands on his hips. “I can’t afford to leave, you’re stuck with me, okay? You don’t have to rearrange all my furniture in protest.”

He doesn’t get a response; he isn’t sure his ghost even can. He’s never seen it, never heard it. He can only see what it does to his home. So far, at least. The couch is pulled back from the wall and slammed back into it again.

Peter sighs in annoyance, cocking his head to the side and staring at the couch. “Whatever, it looks better there anyway.”

The couch skirts across the floor, back to its original position, and Peter rolls his eyes as hard as he can. “Oh, fuck you. You’re just being annoying for the sake of it now.”

There’s no response, and Peter puffs out another sigh. “Stop rearranging my furniture, we’re going to get a noise complaint.”

There’s no response yet again, and Peter hums and turns to go back to his room. “Thank you,” he mumbles softly. He opens his door and gasps. “You asshole!” he yells, looking at his clothes flying out of his dresser. “Stop that!”

His ghost doesn’t, so he angrily grabs a towel and slams the bedroom door behind him to leave his ghost to their temper tantrum. 

He locks the door to the bathroom as if that will stop the ghost from coming in and turns the shower to be extra hot. He strips and puts his clothes in the hamper, grumbling to himself under his breath. 

He takes perhaps the angriest shower of his life, scrubbing furiously at his body and aggressively lathering his hair. “I should have known the rent was too good to be true,” he mumbles to himself, getting out of the shower and grabbing his towel. He’s calmed down a bit, has resigned himself to his fate of refolding all his clothes. 

He finishes drying off his hair and wraps it around his hips, looking up at the vanity. He blinks, cocking his head to the side. In big blocky letters, drawn out in the steam on his mirror, is TONY. 

“Tony?” he asks, and watches it be underlined. “Oh, your name is Tony,” he mumbles. “That’s a nice name.”

He doesn’t get a response, and Peter hums in thought. “I’m Peter,” he offers, feeling a bit silly. But Tony started it. “This doesn’t have to be a bad thing, you know. We can get along.”

YES appears on his mirror, and Peter smiles at it. “See? This’ll be great.”

~

Tony likes to talk to him, Peter has discovered. He likes leaving messages on the mirror whenever Peter showers, likes to ask questions and get Peter talking for long periods of time. 

It got to the point where Peter decided: why limit this? He buys three white boards, sticks them to the walls in his kitchen, livingroom, and bedroom. Tony is very happy with these purchases, and has a preference for the red marker. 

Peter has decided that Tony is an asshole, but he isn’t all that bad really. He’s kind of sweet too, and a good listener. He cares about Peter’s life, asks questions about it and encourages him to talk about it to Tony. 

As far as ghosts go, Peter is sure he’s lucked out. 

Peter laughs as he reads the question left for him in the bedroom, shaking his head fondly. “No, MJ isn’t my girlfriend. And she doesn’t even believe me when I tell her about you, she’s a real asshole like that. She’s not coming over any time soon.”

MJ IS NOT YOUR GIRLFRIEND?

“No, I don’t have one,” Peter says, shrugging. “I was dating Wade for a while, but we decided to just be friends instead.”

BOYFRIEND?

Peter frowns. “Oh, god, what time period are you from? I didn’t think to ask. People can do that now, it’s fine to be gay or whatever else now.”

NOT AN ISSUE.

“Oh, good,” Peter says, grinning at the board. “Because you’ve really grown on me, it would be a shame to find out my favorite ghost is homophobic.”

YOU KNOW OTHER GHOSTS?

Peter snorts, rolling his eyes fondly. He sits on the bed, crossing his legs. “Jealous?” There’s no response, and Peter giggles softly. “I don’t know any other ghosts, it was just a joke.”

I’M ALONE.

Peter frowns, taking in the words slowly. Tony must have been terribly lonely, before Peter came around. “Well, I’m here now. And you aren’t getting rid of me any time soon, we’ve already established this.” He tries to joke, but it sounds sad. 

It’s quiet for a long time after that, the marker hovering in the air as if Tony is holding it limp at his side. Then the marker is placed down, and the door to Peter’s room shuts. 

Peter sighs sadly, deciding to use the privacy while he has it; since Tony is invisible, he never knows for sure if he’s watching. He only knows if Tony does something like that; closes his door, or moves stuff around in another room. 

~

Peter hums to himself as he gets out of the shower, drying off and wrapping his towel around his waist. His toothbrush is knocked over, and he looks at the mirror with a frown. 

WHERE ARE YOU GOING?

“No where,” Peter says, turning and opening the door. “I just wanted to get clean.” He makes his way to his bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He opens a drawer in his dresser, before he looks over his shoulder at an insistent tapping noise. The marker is tapping against the whiteboard, and Peter sighs and walks over. 

NO PLANS?

“Nope,” Peter says, turning back around. “Let me get dressed, we can talk-hey!” 

Tony has ripped his towel away, throwing it across the room and leaving him naked. The marker is back on the white board, so Peter doesn’t know for certain where Tony is. 

“Asshole,” he mumbles starting to walk towards his towel again. “You don’t-hey!”

Tony’s never touched him before this; it’s a little unsettling. Everywhere Tony touches him is extremely cold, and it sends a rush of adrenaline through him. One hand is wrapped around Peter’s wrist, twisting his arm behind his back and the other is on Peter’s hip. He’s bent over the bed, and the position brings a blush to Peter’s face. 

“Hey!” Peter says, trying to wriggle free. “What are you doing? Let me go!”

Tony doesn’t. Instead, he moves his hand from Peter’s hip to his ass, petting at the flesh a couple times before spreading Peter’s cheeks apart. 

Peter gasps and shivers at the feeling, trying to close his legs. “Tony! What are you doing?!”

Tony’s leg must go in between his, kicking his feet apart. Peter gasps and shivers, his legs shaking. Tony’s finger pets over his hole, and Peter whimpers. 

“Tony, you can’t-you can’t! What are you-let me go, Tony!” Peter whines, trying to push off of the bed. Tony has never tried to hurt him before, not even when they weren’t talking yet and Tony was still trying to get rid of him. He’s more confused than scared. 

Tony pushes his knee in between Peter’s thighs again, pushing up until his own thigh is pressing against Peter’s cock and rubbing back and forth. 

Peter chokes and gasps, his hand clenching the sheets. “O-oh,” Peter chokes out, grinding down against Tony’s thigh. It feels so fucking wierd, so very cold but still so very good at the same time. Tony’s thigh rubs against him for a few minutes, and Peter continues to grind against it until he’s fully hard.

Tony pushes his finger in to the first knuckle, and Peter gasps. “Wait, don’t-oh god, oh,” Peter groans and pushes back into it, his cock leaking on Tony’s thigh. He can feel Tony’s cock hardening against his hip, and it’s so weird. This is so weird, he can’t even see Tony and Tony is about to-

Tony’s finger pushes deeper, and Peter whimpers. He can’t decide if he’s scared or not, can’t decide if he wants Tony to stop. He wants to tell Tony to wait, at least, to use lube. But then he realizes-

There is no friction. His hole is just stretching around nothing, there’s nothing really there. 

“Oh, fuck,” Peter gasps, hanging his head and arching his back. “Oh, please, more. Tony, please.” 

Tony pulls his finger out and Peter whines, but then he’s pushing two in. Peter’s head throws back, and he gasps loudly. Tony’s fingers start moving in and out of him quickly, already scissoring him apart. 

Peter wonders if Tony can see himself, or there’s nothing there for him as well. If he just has a view of Peter’s hole being stretched around nothing, or if it looks normal for him. “Oh, fuck, Tony. Please Tony, please, more, I need-oh fuck, please!”

Tony lets go of his wrist for the first time since this started, pulling his fingers out abruptly. Peter whines at the loss, scared that Tony’s going to leave now. He worries himself for nothing; Tony simply picks him up and turns him around, and Peter lands on his back halfway up the bed. 

He doesn’t like this position as much; he can see that no one is there. It’s freaking him out, making him think too much. “Tony,” he chokes, chest heaving. He gets up on his elbows, digging his heels into the bed.

Invisible hands push his thighs far apart, and Tony’s cock presses bluntly against Peter’s hole. It pushes and pushes, until it slips past and slides up Peter’s balls. 

Peter gasps loudly, closing his eyes and throwing his head back. It feels so weird but so good, and if he closes his eyes he can just pretend it’s fine. “Oh, fuck, Tony. Please, please fuck me, please get inside me, I want-oh my god!”

Tony had pulled his cock back to try again, pressing insistantly until the head finally popped past Peter’s rim. 

Peter’s mouth falls open, and he has to fist the sheets to stop himself from screaming. It feels so fucking good inside of him, so incredibly strange but in a pleasant way. “Oh, fuck,” Peter gasps, sucking in a desperate breath. 

Tony starts to slowly push forward, and forward and forward until Peter feels like he can feel it in the back of his fucking throat. 

“Oh god, Tony, oh fuck, how fucking big are you?” He can’t see it, can’t know how much there is left to go. “Oh, stop, it won’t fit!” Peter cries. 

Tony doesn’t listen, continues pushing in until his hips finally slap into Peter’s ass with an audible slap. 

Peter groans loudly, his legs shaking, his chest heaving. “Oh god, Tony,” he gasps, opening his eyes and regretting it immediately. There’s no one there, there’s no body attached to the cock currently splitting him in half, no hands keeping his thighs apart. He’s just being filled up by nothing, his stomach is protruding with a cock that isn’t there. 

Tony starts to slowly pull back out, and Peter watches in fascination as Tony’s head visibly moves down his torso. “Oh,” Peter moans.

Tony only pulls halfway out before pushing back in, his hips slapping hard against Peter’s. 

“Oh, fuck,” Peter gasps, throwing his head back again as Tony sets up a brutal pace. He feels like he might actuall die, like Tony is actively fucking him to death. He’s so fucking big, and the pace is brutal, and he’s fucking Peter so hard he’s being pushed up the bed.

Tony’s left hand leaves his thigh, after moving Peter’s leg around to grip around his waist. Instead it presses down harshly against Peter’s stomach where his head reaches when he goes as deep as possible. 

Peter moans, almost screams, watching his torso with dark eyes. It’s the only visible proof he has, the only thing proving that he isn’t batshit crazy. He’s being fucked by a ghost; a ghost hung like a horse besides. “Tony!”

Tony somehow speeds up, slapping his hips so hard against Peter’s that it hurts, and he knows he’s going to be feeling this for days. 

“Please,” Peter moans, moving one hand to wrap around his cock. “Oh god, please, I want it. Please! Please Tony, please come inside me, I want it so bad!”

Tony’s right hand tightens on his thigh, enough that the skin goes white and he’s sure it’s going to leave a mark. His hips stutter, and he fucks into Peter a few more times before burying himself balls deep and grinding there. 

It feels so fucking weird. It’s still cold, but it’s definetly real and wet inside of him. Peter’s eyes go lidded and he strokes himself quickly, enjoying the feeling of being stretched, of how deep Tony is, of being filled up.

Peter almost doesn’t notice at first, but Tony hasn’t stopped grinding into him and filling up for longer than a human would have. His eyes widen as it hits him, his hand stilling on his cock. “Oh, god, Tony?” 

Tony pulls half out and slaps his hips back in, grinding again. The hand on Peter’s stomach leaves to start stroking Peter instead. 

Peter’s stomach starts to distend, and his jaw drops as he realizes just how much Tony is filling him up. “Oh, fuck, Tony! Tony, it’s too much!” 

Tony speeds his hand up on Peter’s cock, and Peter whines loudly. He finishes to the strange feelings, hands gripping the sheets desperately and head thrown back. He comes so hard that it hits his chin, and Tony wrings every last drop out of him. 

Peter pants heavily once it’s over, groaning at the sight of his come painting Tony’s fist white. He can kind of see it now, see the outline. He already knew from the way they felt inside of him, but Tony’s fingers are thick. 

He’s still buried to the hilt inside of Peter, and Peter whines as his stomach continues to grow. He feels some being fucked out of him as Tony grinds, and he’s so overstimulated at this point. “Tony, ‘s too much!”

Tony finally finishes filling Peter up minutes later, when Peter’s stomach is pudged and he looks like he has a small baby bump. Oh, and isn’t that a new idea? He grinds into Peter once more, keeping him plugged up apparently. He really wishes that Tony could talk to him.

“I’m too full,” Peter complains, nudging at Tony’s torso with his knee. “Get out of me.”

Tony pets at Peter’s stomach, and maybe he’s just as turned on by the sight as Peter is. Peter’s spent sock twitches, but it’s way too soon for him to go again. 

“Tony,” Peter whines, clenching around him. “Out.”

Tony hesitates once more, but finally pulls out slowly. He leaves his head insides, teasing Peter’s rim with the widest part.

Peter moans at the feeling, before whimpering again. “Tony, please, it’s too much!”

Tony finally takes mercy on him, popping his head out but keeping Peter’s thighs spread open. 

Peter whimpers, face red with embarrassment, knowing that Tony is staring at his hole. He wonders what it looks like right now; wonders how much of Tony’s come is leaking out of him, how gaped open he is. 

He reaches around himself, ignoring Tony squeezing his thighs, and stuffs a few fingers into himself. Tony squeezes tighter, before finally letting him go. 

Peter pulls his fingers out, eyes lighting up when he realizes he can see Tony’s come on his fingers. Physical proof of what Tony did to him. 

He clenches around nothing, winces when he feels some more of Tony’s come slide out of him and onto the bed. “Fuck, Tony,” he whispers, bringing his fingers to his mouth and licking curiously. It tastes about the same as normal, it’s just cold. A little gross. 

Peter pulls his fingers away and gasps when Tony’s hand cups his cheeks, and he thnks Tony is kissing him because his lips are cold. He tries to kiss back, closes his eyes so he doesn’t feel like he’s kissing air. It’s much easier when his eyes are closed for his mind to accept this. 

Tony finally pulls away, and Peter falls back on the bed with a final pant. “Fuck,” he whispers to the room. 

Peter looks when at the tapping noise against the board, snorting when he sees it. “Now you ask?” he snarks, rolling his eyes. 

CAN WE DO THAT AGAIN? Stays on his board, unerased, even the next time they do this.

[karleksmumskladdkaka]

DIABOLIK LOVERS DAYLIGHT Vol. 7 Mukami Ruki Animate Tokuten Drama CD: “Sleeping Together ★ With Vampire"

Audio

No, not that kind of sleeping together.

...And yet somehow not really the other kind either because despite it's title there is LITTLE TO NO SLEEPING TOGETHER GOING ON AT ALL except at the very end TᴖT TᴖT TᴖT My disappointment is immeasurable and my day is ruined.

Ok ok I'm obviously being overdramatic. Misleading name aside the CD is enjoyable and cute just...not at all in the way I was expecting (that being something akin to the Sleeping Vampire Scenario from Vandead Carnival but, alas, no). But oh well, I got to hear Ruki be all deredere towards the end so it's fine I guess lol

Ideally I'd create an actual translation to go along with this (I might do so sometime in the future, unless someone more competent does it first) but for now I've put a summary of the story under the cut. I ask that you please have mercy on me though, I am not used to writing this kind of stuff and it probably shows >﹏<;

Regardless, I hope you enjoy ( ﾉ^ω^)ﾉ ⋆⁺₊☽⁺₊⋆

UPDATE: The CD now has an actual translation courtesy of my fellow Ruki stan @otomehonyaku o(^o^)o please go check it out if you haven't already!

[Disclaimer: I always allow my stuff to be used for translation purposes, as long as I am credited. BUT DO NOT REPOST THE AUDIO ON ANY WEBSITE WHATSOEVER. I bought the CD with my own money and as such this audio belongs to me.]

Summary ~*×*☆*+*~

[Please note that there may be mistakes or I might've misinterpreted parts of the CD. I apologize in advance (╥﹏╥)]

The CD starts with Ruki encountering Yui, who is carrying an unusually large package. Curious, Ruki asks her what she's doing, and learns that Kou has tasked her with delivering the package to him (Ruki). Ruki is somewhat perplexed as he doesn't recall requesting anything of the kind. Yui suggests that it might be a surprise gift, but Ruki is skeptical. He wants to ask Kou directly but is reminded that he is currently away on a location shoot. With a resigned sigh, Ruki decides that he has no choice but to open the package in Kou's absence. He asks Yui to hand the package to him, and then invites her to come along to his room to find out what's inside. She eagerly accepts, and they head off together.

In Ruki's room they take a seat (on what I assume to be the sofa) and open the package. Inside, there are various wooden pieces resembling parts of something, along with a letter from Kou. Ruki reads the letter aloud and it's revealed that the package contains a (*drumroll*)... puzzle! And not just any puzzle but a ✨️3D puzzle✨️. In the letter Kou encourages Ruki and Yui to assemble the parts together to discover what they will form. Since he's got spare time on his hands Ruki decides to have a go at it, with Yui joining in.

After a while of working on the puzzle, Ruki asks Yui how her part is coming along. She shows him, and he comments that she's doing better than he anticipated. He helps her out with some difficult pieces before instructing her to continue on her own. Yui asks Ruki if this is his first time putting together a 3D puzzle, and he replies that he's tried some before, but that this particular type is new to him. Yui is eager to learn what it is they are building, and Ruki, not wanting to dampen her anticipation, pretends he still can't quite figure out what the finished thing will be either (awww ♡). Ruki suggests that rather than moving their mouths they should focus on moving their hands as with their current pace the puzzle won't be finished. He reasons that the faster they move the sooner they'll have their curiosity satisfied. Yui agrees to work faster and Ruki promises to do the same.

They pick up the pace and eventually the puzzle is done. The assembled pieces have formed a small foreign castle, and Ruki reveals that he suspected as much from the start. He surmises that Kou must have remembered their expressed desire to visit such a castle after seeing one by chance on one of his TV shows. Ruki acknowledges Kou's attempt to make the two of them happy in his own way. He praises Yui for doing a great job despite not knowing what they were actually assembling, noting that the part she made fits perfectly into the castle.

However, there is no response from Yui, causing a puzzled (ahaha) Ruki to remark on her lack of reaction to something she had been so excited about. Turning his head to the side to look at her, Ruki discovers that she's fallen asleep with her head resting on his shoulder. He comments on the privilege of such a sleeping position but acknowledges that it's understandable she'd fall asleep since it's past their usual bedtime. She had seemed so engrossed in their work that he didn't notice her drifting off.

Ruki carries Yui to his bed and gently places her there, saying that she should have just told him that she was tired. He realizes that she likely made an effort to stay awake until the end, though she ultimately fell asleep. Deciding that it would be a good time for him to go to sleep as well, he tidies up and hides the little castle under the table, so that he'll be able to see Yui's reaction to it in the morning.

Returning to the bed, Ruki asks Yui to scoot over to make room for him, but she's sleeping too soundly to hear. He lies down next to her and (in true Mukami Ruki fashion) begins observing Yui's sleeping face. He notes how relaxed her expression is and wonders if it's because she's tired out from using her brain (lmao rude). Ruki then ponders what kind of face Yui will make when she wakes up—will she feel guilty for falling asleep before the puzzle was finished, or will she be surprised and embarrassed to find him laying next to her? Regardless of what her reaction will be, Ruki knows that it'll be enjoyable to witness. But he's certain she'll be happy once she sees the completed puzzle and admits to himself that he really wants to see that expression on her face. He's aware that it's out of character for him, and thinks that he might even have trouble falling asleep from the excitement (asdfsdjfj this is too fucking cute I can't)

Ruki decides that he should thank Kou for the useful gift by making him his favorite food for dinner tomorrow. The mention of dinner causes Yui to stir (what a relatable Queen), and Ruki teases her for being greedy. He assures the still-sleeping girl that she doesn't need to worry; he'll make her favorite dish as well as a reward for her hard work on the puzzle.

The CD ends with Ruki saying how he looks forward to seeing Yui's reaction the following day.

Fin ~*×*☽*+*~

- _(´ω`_)⌒)_

[guilty-pleasures21]

Another one?! Ugh, I get bored at work, okay?!

Might try to finish this one up soon, because I got an idea for another fic (🥲), but I don't want to make the ending too abrupt.

1. Ergh, I don't really know if I want to write this ...

2. I wrote it

Part 1 - the towel

Part 2 - the morning after

Warnings: um, well, they're naked?

----------------------------------------------------------

She woke up the next morning to a soothingly heavy weight on her waist and a deliciously solid presence behind her back. She snuggled deeper into her warm cocoon and Miguel slid his hand over her- Wait. Miguel? Miguel! She twisted her head back to get a glimpse of the man lying behind her, then turned back around when she’d confirmed that yes, it was Miguel. As in her boss Miguel. As in ‘holy freaking shit, she’d just slept with her boss’ Miguel! X clutched tighter onto her quilt, then began discreetly trying to wriggle herself out of his grip - maybe she could sneak out. Of her own house. And then call in sick or something and send him her letter of resignation once he’d left.

“¿Cariño? (Sweetheart?)” Miguel’s deep voice rumbled through her bones, still rusty from sleep, and a shiver ran down her spine. He chuckled and cuddled her closer to him so he could lean over to press a kiss to the crook of her neck. The crook of her neck which was bare because she was naked in bed with her boss! “¿Qué paso, arañita? (What happened, little spider?)”

She tried not to react as he continued to press soft and appreciative kisses along her bare shoulder. But then his fingers were brushing across her nipple and his thigh was slipping in between her legs and it took everything in her to bite down on her lip and muffle the squeak that fell from her mouth. “Um, nothing! Go back to sleep, Miguel! This was just one crazy dream …”

Miguel let out another snicker and X shuddered again. “Mmm, if this is a dream, then I don't want to wake up, mi arañita linda. (... my lovely little spider.)”

Holy shit! Did his morning voice have to be so hot?! Did his everything have to be so hot?! He squeezed her breast gently and she sucked in a breath as her body stretched put so that her p*ssy brushed up against his leg. Shit! “M-Miguel!”

She grabbed onto his arm and lifted it off of her body so she could wriggle further away from him. Miguel finally sat up, confused. “¿Arañita? What's wrong?”

She was acting differently to last night - less playful, less affectionate - and he didn’t know what had happened to prompt the unexpected change.

X pulled the quilt all the way up to her eyes, then let her gaze trail over his body: his broad chest, his tanned skin, his defined muscles - all of which she now knew the feeling of against her. Against her naked body. She gulped at the thought.

“Um, is this … okay?” she asked him softly. “Like, is it going to be awkward at work … or something? I just … I'm just kind of nervous because I've never done this before, and I don't really know how things work, and, I mean, you're also, like, my boss and … and oh my God. Please don't fire me! I'll quit! I’ll just, like, hand in my resignation or something! That's okay, right? It won't look bad on my résumé or anything? But I really like this job! And I'm good at it! And I've still got quite a while left of my contract. Oh my gosh. Should we just have waited? I dunno. Would you still like me if I wasn't here?”

“Arañita,” Miguel stopped her, leaning over her to catch her attention. “Breathe.” He could feel her nervous energy rubbing off on him as she’d continued with her rant - did she regret it? He definitely didn’t, but maybe he’d rushed her. Maybe he should have sat her down and talked to her and then taken her for dinner or something. And then he could have f*cked her to sleep. X took in a few deep breaths, trying to calm herself down.

“I'll like you wherever you are, arañita,” Miguel assured her, his fingers aching to reach out and touch her. He clenched his fists instead, trying to focus on soothing her concerns first. “But … do you regret it? Do you want us to wait?” ¡Dios, por favor! (God, please!) Say no, please say no! He didn’t think he could go another day without touching her - not now that he knew what she felt like in his arms.

“No!” X replied immediately, not even waiting to process his sad eyes and his nervous grimace and the anxious furrow of his brows. “I don’t regret it!” Miguel breathed a sigh of relief at her admission.

“And I don’t want to wait,” X continued, pulling her quilt back up over her mouth and nose. “I really like you, Miguel. But … do you like me?”

She blinked her eyes up at him, her voice riddled with insecurity, and his heart cracked at the sight. Of course he liked her! He’d liked her ever since she’d raced into that meeting room and scribbled her ideas all over the board in a way that had made sense only to him - the day he’d given her that nickname everyone in the office now knew her by.

“Of course I like you!” he exclaimed incredulously. “You think I'd have had sex with you if I didn't?!”

“I don’t know!” X sat up, raising her voice to match his. Her expression turned uncertain again as she considered his words. “Maybe you just wanted sex … or something.” Her voice softened as she said the word and she lowered her gaze, embarrassed.

“I mean, isn’t that what good looking guys do?” she finished. She winced at her own words, hearing herself how stupid the argument sounded. But she just wanted some reassurance from him - a confirmation that he wouldn’t just get bored of her and then leave her to go chase after the next pretty thing. Not that he’d ever done anything to make her think that he would do that. But … Miguel fixed her with another disbelieving look.

“¿Qué p*tas? (What the f*ck?)" Miguel narrowed his eyes at her, completely and utterly bewildered as to how she’d possibly come to that conclusion. She thought he’d wanted sex from her just because he was ‘good looking’? ¿Qué mierda? (What the hell?) How the f*ck was he supposed to respond to that?! “Wait. So, you think I just wanted to have sex with you … because I’m ‘good looking’? ¿Qué mierda, arañita?”

“No! I mean … I mean, like …” X waved her hands around, trying to come up with a response. But then her quilt slipped down to her waist and Miguel's eyes fell to her breasts immediately, his pupils dilating with desire as he took her in. X rushed to pull the material back up over herself and Miguel shot her a guilty look.

“Uh …” He waved one hand at her body and rubbed the back of his neck with the other. “I mean … I've already seen … all of it … arañita.”

He snuck a glance at her again and his lips twitched at the ends when he saw the glare she was giving him. She was so cute when she was mad.

“Miguel!” She grabbed a pillow and whacked him over the head with it, too quick for him to block her attack.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, giving her a questioning look once she’d set the pillow down. “¡¿Arañita?!”

X huffed in irritation. “See! You're just … You're all ‘sexed up’ right now! You're not going to listen to anything I say!”

‘Sexed up’? How did she keep coming up with this stuff? He had to admit that she might have had a point though, considering the direction in which his thoughts had been headed when she’d exposed herself before him again. But it wasn’t his fault she was just so f*cking delicious! Miguel forced his features into a frown.

“¡Arañita! I have been listening!” he insisted, taking offence at her accusation. Then he sat back and gave her a serious look. “Okay, okay, I'm listening. What is it? What's really bothering you?” X fidgeted with her fingers, thinking.

“I just …” She tucked her hair behind her ear, not meeting his gaze as she spoke. “You're just, like, so amazing and everything and I … I'm just me, you know? There's … nothing special about me or anything. I just … What if you got bored of me one day, you know? And then someone way prettier and way more cool comes along? What do I do then?” Her voice cracked as she finished the thought and Miguel felt his own heart breaking at her words. How could she think that about him? How could think that about herself? Not when she was so pretty and smart and sweet! Miguel grabbed her face, cupping it in his hands so she was forced to look at him.

“¡¿Estás loca, arañita?! ¡¿Qué diablos?! (Are you crazy, little spider?! What the hell?!) How can you say that about yourself?!” He released his hold on her, getting more and more upset with each passing second. “You are special; you’re so special, arañita. I don’t want anyone else but you! You’re so pretty and cute and so smart! I mean, even in your interview, that first day, when I saw you! I couldn’t stop myself from thinking about how pretty you were! With your … your beautiful eyes and your cute smile and your …” His eyes fell to her body - to her small form and her mouth-watering curves and her-

“Not that that’s the reason I hired you!” Miguel assured her quickly, dragging his gaze back up to her face. “You’re really smart! You’re brilliant! And … And that was just an added bonus … to … to the … to what you’d contribute to …”

“Miguel,” X stopped him, snickering at how frazzled he’d become. “You’re rambling now.”

He relaxed, the tension easing from his shoulders when he saw the gentle curve return to her lips.

“I can’t help it, arañita.” He shrugged. “That’s just what you do to me.” X bit her lip, giving him that shy smile that drove him crazy.

“Okay.” She readied herself to lower the quilt, her body heating up in anticipation of his reaction if she did. But then she stopped, suddenly realising how out of her depth she really felt. “But, um, Miguel?”

“Hmm?” Coño, it was like the f*cking towel all over again! Why wasn't she lowering the damn quilt?!

“Can we … take this a little slower?” X asked him carefully, completely oblivious to his thoughts. “I just … I’ve never been in a relationship before, so …”

¡Mierda! (Shit!) Of course! How could he have been so insensitive?!

“Yes! Yes, of course,” Miguel agreed immediately. “We’ll go at your pace, arañita. Whatever you want to do, just tell me.”

“Hmm.” X paused to think about it, her expression much more relaxed now that they'd resolved her insecurities. Then her eyes lit up with an idea. “Should we go on a date?”

She looked so excited, her lips stretched into a hopeful smile as she waited for his response. He liked seeing her happy - and he absolutely adored being the reason for it. He leaned forward to tuck her hair behind her ear and give her a mischievous smirk. “I'll take you on a date, arañita. Where do you want to go?”

She bit her lip as he began brushing lips along her neck and shoulder, his warm breath tickling her skin and causing a shiver to run down her spine. “Miguel …”

He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “Tell me where you want to go, arañita. I'll take you wherever you want.”

She reached up to grip his shoulder, then pushed him back slightly so she could start thinking again. “Hmm, a movie?”

Then they wouldn't have to worry about anyone seeing them. Smart. Miguel cupped her cheek in his hand. “What time do you want to go?”

He leaned forward to press his lips to hers and she sank against his chest, kissing him back. Finally, he pulled away and she treated him to a sweet smile before replying. “We can go in the evening? Then you can go home and get changed too.”

Right. He had a spare set of night clothes he kept at her place - for when he was injured or too tired to go home after a mission. But he'd always get up before she awoke and put on his suit to swing through the city back home - a task that was probably going to be a little more difficult now that everyone was awake and going about their day. But that could wait for later.

“Can I take a shower here first?” Miguel asked, his voice low and thick with desire. Her stomach flipped at the look in his eyes, but she swallowed it down, wanting to tease him a little.

“Sure!” X agreed happily, hopping up and heading over to her closet. “Let me just get you your towel.” His eyes followed her as she walked across the room and stretched onto her toes to grab the towel he'd use whenever he stayed over. Joder, she was beautiful: her long limbs and her soft curves and her tanned skin and curly hair. He couldn't wait to get her into the shower with him. He grinned at her as she handed him the towel, getting up to go over to the bathroom. But then she turned around to start walking in the wrong direction.

“¡Arañita!” Miguel called after her, unable to keep the hint of panic out of his voice. Where the hell was she going now?! X stopped and twisted her head back to look at him, a questioning expression on her face. “Uh, we could … we could save water … if we showered together …”

He looked so guilty as he said it, she had to bite down on the inside of her cheek to stop herself from bursting into laughter. Her eyes drifted down his towering form, lingering on his handsome face and his rapidly stiffening cock and her stomach fluttered at the sight.

“Oh, it's fine.” She waved away his concerns nonchalantly. “I'm just gonna go put my breakfast first.”

Miguel clutched onto his towel, his heart thudding with panic as she began walking away from him. Another excuse - he needed another excuse!

“¡Arañita!” he called out to her quickly. X turned back to give him a questioning look and he hesitated. “Uh … Don't you need to brush your teeth first?”

“I can wait,” she replied, fluttering her eyelashes knowingly as she took a step back towards him. “Besides, I can always just brush my teeth while you're showering. Then we can switch! Let me get you a toothbrush.” She started making her way to the bathroom and Miguel seized the opportunity to race after her.

“After, after: I can brush my teeth after I take a shower.”

Tags: @heubstr

[aziraphales-library]

Hello, thank you for the work you put into this blog. It might be a bit early, but are there any S2 fix-it recs yet?

Hi! We have a plentiful #fix-it tag now! Here are some more to add...

you're the victim of your crime by JustNerdyThings (T)

It's a simple decision, really. It's simple in the way things rarely are, in that it's not much of a decision at all. Whatever Aziraphale might stand to gain by staying in Heaven, it cannot possibly compare to what he's already lost down on Earth. So Aziraphale leaves. He miracles up his letter of resignation, pretends to clear out his still-empty desk, and leaves. And he hopes against hope that somehow, someday, Crowley might forgive him.

hungry work by CCs_World (E)

“You must understand,” Aziraphale had whispered. He was on the doorstep of the bookshop, months after his departure, looking in at Crowley — disheveled, both of them. Broken, both of them. Afraid, both of them. Hopeful, both of them. “I understand, Aziraphale,” Crowley had said back. They had stretched out a hand to Aziraphale. “Come on. Let’s think of a plan together.” And they had. Somehow, miraculously, ineffably, a second apocalypse had been averted. Heaven and Hell were cut off. They were free — truly free. And they had all the time in the universe. So, naturally, they left London. OR: After the Second Coming does not Come, Crowley and Aziraphale move to the South Downs. However, living together is difficult when there are over 6000 years of tension between them - tension which must be resolved if they are to have their happily ever after.

Trembling with tenderness by HolRose (T)

When the former demon Crowley is surprised in his Mayfair flat by a visit from his erstwhile boss and their ex-Archangel partner asking for assistance, Crowley has that familiar sinking feeling that something he did in the past has come back to bite him on the arse. When the current Supreme Archangel materialises in his flat shortly afterwards, Crowley knows the time has come for them to really talk at last. Just as soon as they’ve got rid of their visitors, that is. A post Season 2 fix-it fic in which they communicate properly, and Aziraphale demonstrates just how crafty, and also loving, he can be. This is one for those who might like something genuinely soft and romantic after the ending to Season 2.

We'll make Heaven a place on Earth by arabellas_court (E)

Aziraphale unfolded the piece of paper slowly beneath the horrid lighting. He cleared his throat and looked around, the corners of his mouth faltering just a second when he landed on Crowley. He looked down at the paper. “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth—” “Jesus Christ,” Crowley grumbled. “No, dear, he came later, remember?” ------ Crowley knows his worth. He can't take Aziraphale back immediately after how hurt he's been. And for once, Aziraphale has to work for that forgiveness. Both of them are a mess. Both of them go to therapy—unexpectedly, together. Angst with a happy ending.

Snogging on Heaven's Door by Tetrisbiene (M)

What if Aziraphale actually said, 'Do it again. Please. Right now!'? A Post-Season 2 Fanfic. Aziraphale has to go to Heaven to thwart the Second Coming, and Crowley just can't let him go alone. Follow the pair as they meet old and new faces, go to heavenly meetings, sow mischief, and tempt some angels to fall in love with humanity. May the two find a flat surface to talk things over with each other before this big promotion can tear them apart. This is the story of our ineffable idiots in a roller coaster ride of emotions, heavenly bureaucracy, and stolen kisses against doors. Have some angst, some stupid puns in the chapter titles, and an elevator ride that's basically an excuse for me to write a cheesy alternative ending to help me get over the actual finale.

In the cracks of light, I dreamed of you by sunrisesinthesuburbs (T)

Aziraphale stares back at the Metatron with renewed optimism. “I know where my loyalty stands, Sir,” he starts, even managing a small smile. “And I do not need to prove myself to them. When the Time comes, they will enjoy what I’ve been working on.” He sounds convincing, really. Honest, reliable and responsible. Crowley decides this is a good time to whistle: “Someone’s getting all professional up here.” Aziraphale dares to peep in his direction, hoping to convey with one brief look everything he is thinking about: ‘Shut up, will you? I’m trying to do something here.’ Crowley smirks, of course. He really is so annoying. “Well, Aziraphale, you may not need to prove yourself to them,” the Metatron reaches for something inside his jacket, “but you need to prove yourself to me.” Aziraphale fails Heaven's test (of course), and now he has to fix an even bigger mess. Throw a messy break up and a Second Coming in the mix and, somehow, you get a getaway car and a cottage in the South Downs. A lot can happen in a day. (Post Season 2; my very own attempt at fixing things.)

- Mod D

[lady-mimis]

ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS IS YOU - SUPERMAN

Summary: Where Diana youngest sister is supposed to make a Christmas list but all she wants for Christmas is Clark Kent

English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes that might be on the text

Notes: I wanted to make a fluffy imagine for the holiday so I hope you all enjoy it. Merry Christmas guys!

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"Hey (Y/N), What are you doing? You've been staring at that notebook for hours" Flash asked with a curious look, stopping his chat with Green Lantern.

The truth was that you'd spent the whole evening thinking about what you wanted for Christmas, but you couldn't think of any present you desired. To be honest, you don't even know what Christmas is

"Hm... my sister and Bruce told me to make my Christmas list but I can't think of anything. I don't need anything, I'm content with my stuff" You point to the empty notebook in your hands

"Wow, I wish I could have your resignation, (Y/N)!" Green Lantern joked, admired with your words

"Well, that's not a problem, we can help you!" Wally and Hal sat closer to you

"What do you think about a new perfume? Wally suggested. You denied shaking your head

"New clothes?" Hal suggested it with a thinking look

"I already have a wardrobe with many of them" You pouted, feeling a little frustrated

"Do you like puppies?" Hal suggested excitedly

"Do you mean dog spawns? Yes, it's cute!" You smiled, remembering how cute those creatures are

"Put it on your list then!"

"I don't know if I should have one of them tough" You deny thinking about something else

A few times later

"C'mon (Y/N)! You just have to think of anything you desire. Santa is gonna make your wish come true" Hal groaned impatiently

"Who is Santa? Is he some kind of genie of the lamp who concedes wishes?" You ask confusedly. Hal laughed at your question

"Yeah, kind of, he's the good old man who brings the people's gifts what they asked for Christmas. It's mostly for the kids but that doesn't mean that an adult can't ask him anything" Wally laughed weakly at the crooked smile that appeared on your face

"So it doesn't need to be an object?" You asked, starting to write some words on the paper

Something I desire? That's interesting

"No, you can ask anything you want, I'm sure he will make it happen" Wally says with humor. You look at him with hope

"I'm done!" You stand up proudly

"So, what did you ask for Christmas?" Hal asked, poking your cheeks

"I write a short letter to Santa asking the only thing I desire in this world" You stated excited

"That would be?" Wally was really curious about what you wrote

You were interrupted by a call for your help in Metropolis

In a flash of eyes, you are in your silver armor and helmet on

"Sorry guys, duties call. Thank you for the help" You wave to them

You left two curious man behind

------------------------------------------------------------

"Thank you for the help, I really appreciate it" Superman puts a hand on your shoulders, thanking you, flashing a bright smile to you

You couldn't help but check on how handsome he is. His suit was well tailored, his kind eyes, his white teeth, his beautiful black hair. He is perfect in every sense

"Hey you're alright? Your heartbeat is very fast" Clark asked worried about your well-being

You felt flustered for being caught looking him out

"Yeah... hm. It's just the adrenaline of the mission" You stuttered, felling your cheeks pretty warm

With a big frown on his face, he nodded unconfirmed "Sure... So what you're planning to do on Christmas?" Clark asked, looking carefully at you, analyzing you

"Am I supposed to do something? Isn't Santa the one who needs to do something? To be honest, I don't even have an idea what Christmas is" You were embarrassed for not knowing those things everyone seemed to know. Everyone talks about the Christmas and you don't even know what is this

Clark explained to you that Christmas was a holiday that humans celebrate every year, for some it was the birth of their savior and for others was just a simple holiday where they would exchange gifts and be with their family and friends. It was a form of increasing bonds with your loved ones

------------------------------------------------------------

Clark was taken aback by your questions about Christmas, and He realized that would be your first Christmas since you came to human civilization

Everything was new for you, and you were created in a different culture, of course you would not know their costumes and traditions. You were on your own journey to discover the world

Clark admired the way you saw the world everything looked like a new discovery for you. How your eyes would shine when you see a cute animal and wanted to pet it, how you are patient and genuine with people, how you are happy for being able to help people

So he decided to make your first Christmas be a magical one

"Why have you solicited this reunion, Clark? And without (Y/N)?" Batman asked with a narrow gaze at your empty seat

"Well, she's the topic of the discussion" Clark says to all of his teammates

"You have the word now, Clark" Diana told him with a curious look but her voice was serious

"It's her first Christmas in the human world and I want to make it especial for her" Clark says confident

"I'm in! Where would it be?" Hal smirked, he did enjoy parties

"My moms house, she loves hostage Christmas parties" Clark smiles

"I'm kind of curious tough, where is my sister right now?" Diana asked, tapping her nails on the big table of the meeting room of the Watch Tower

"She's shopping with my mom" He answered with a bright white smile at the thought of you accompanying his mom. He could imagine his mom dragging you around the mall and you holding the shops bags and following behind her like a lost child

"What did you tell her? She doesn't go shopping easily" Diana had a wonder look on her face. Okay, maybe she was feeling a little jealousy of how Clark could convince you with easy

"I told her that my mom would need help with the bags, she didn't disagree or complain" Clark laughed softly of Dianas disbelief face

"What about her Christmas list?" Clark asked curiously looking at Diana who laughed softly

"She didn't make a Christmas list, she just wrote a letter to Santa" Diana smiled at how genuine and excited you were when you gave her your letter. She remembered you telling her to give your letter to Santa

"Alright, since she just asked for one thing, we can gift her with things she likes" Clark stated and everyone agrees

"You're dismissed then" Everyone got up and left the meeting room except Wonder Woman and Batman

"I suppose you will take care of her gift?" Bruce asked with a malicious look

"Yes" Clark says, looking suspiciously at Bruce

"Read!" She handed over the letter to him

Clark widens his eyes, reading your letter

"What does this mean?" Clark felt a little dumbfounded with your wish in the letter

"It means (Y/N) likes you, fool" Diana mocks of his shock face

"How can you be so oblivious? Everyone knows you like her too" Bruce scoffed, hiding his laugh

------------------------------------------------------------

Martha had stopped the pickup in front of the big farm house

You wore your dark purple winter clothes and a pair of black boots you borrowed from Diana

It was your first time there, you were kind of nervous, although spending the day with Martha was amazing. She's so gentle and caring, you could see how Clark was well raised by his parents

"Wow, your house is beautiful, Martha"

"Thank you, Dear. Could you take the shops out of the trunk?" Martha turned off the engine

"Yeah!" You took out the seat belt and got out of the car, When you stepped out, Clark opened the door of the big farm house

He was wearing a light gray flannel shirt and with his glasses on, he smiled at you making you flush

You turned around slowly, walking to the trunk

You grabbed all the bags in your arms, it wasn't heavy or anything but it was an amount of them. Suddenly the bags were taken from your hands. Clark was beside you, holding the bags for you

"Thank you, you didn't have to do it. It wasn't heavy, you know" You fake an angry face

"I know you're stronger but I want to help you" He stated, winking playful, walking to the home. Sometimes you forget how he is such a gentleman

You follow behind him silently, observing everything around you. It's funny how the humans houses were different from those on the island of the Amazons. The house was enormous compared with the city houses, it was cozy tough

You stopped in your tracks when you saw one of Kent's family portraits. It was a beautiful portrait. The three were sat on the couch, Clark was in the middle of Martha and her late husband, Jonathan.

"I love this picture. It was our last Christmas together" Martha hands you a hot chocolate drink, and look at the picture smiling nostalgic

"It's a beautiful picture" You took a sip of the sweet drink

You observe the many pictures of Clark in different phases of his life. He was cute in every of them

Martha starts to tell you about the stories behind those pictures

Clark appears and joins you in the conversation

"Wow, this is Clark? How cute!!" You point to one of his baby photos, he was wearing a dino pajama in the picture

"Well, I can already imagine what my grandchild will look like" Martha said looking at you two, smiling mischievously

Clark was flustered but you didn't catch the sign of his mom, you don't think he was like that because of you though

"I can't believe he has a photo with Santa" You sigh looking another picture of Clark, you guess he was about five years old. You felt kind of upset for not getting your photo with the old man at the Metropolis Center Mall

"Hm? What happened?" Clark frowned at your upset form but you refused to say anything

"She couldn't take a photo with Santa, they told her she was too old for that" Martha rubbed your back gently

"She doesn't have any photos, can you believe it?" Martha felt sorry for you. Photos were a form of record of the moments of life

After moments

Clark asked for your help to choose a tree for his mom house. Why ask you from everyone? You don't have an idea, but you accepted it just to pass more time with him

He had made a tour to show you the farm before you go

"It looks nice to grow up here" You said looking at the cute animals in the barn

"Yeah, Smallville is a great place, my favorite place in the world. Reminds me of my children hood" He smiled with passion

"It's so peaceful, I'm glad to know the place you grew up" You look into his kind eyes

"You should see the center. They really work hard on decorating the city" Clark looks at you and stays quiet for a while. His gaze upon you was warm and full of adoring

You avoided his eyes, feeling a little disconcerted with the look he gave you "Hm, we must go before the good trees are chosen" You clear your throat

------------------------------------------------------------

The city looked so magical at the night, with the Christmas decoration lighting the city, the snowflakes falling made everything looks more amazing. You're amazed by the beauty of Christmas. People were happily making their shops, and some groups of people sings christmas songs on the streets

The tree you and Clark chose was full and big, and you couldn't wait to decorate it

You both bought new decorations for the house and the christmas tree

"We did a great job" You two were watching the house from above. Wondered by the decoration of the house you and Clark managed to do, it had christmas decorations around all the house and the farm, making your eyes sparkle with the view

"Yeah, we did. I can't wait for tomorrow's Christmas party," You state excitedly "I don't have any idea in what to wear. I've never been at a human party before"

"I'm sure you look good in anything, just make sure to stay warm," Clark advised you, smiling gently

You blushed, putting a stand of your hair behind your ear "I will keep that in mind"

------------------------------------------------------------

On Christmas morning you and Diana were in front of the farm house, Martha had invited you for brunch

Clark open the door for you two, you could hear the chatter from the living room

"It looks like we are the last to arrive" Diana elbowed you humored, making you flinch slightly

She entered the house, greeting everyone and left you and Clark alone in the front house

"I'm sorry, I couldn't find my gloves, so we took long" You sheepishly apologize to Clark

"Don't worry, they just arrived a few moments ago," Clark says, being kind. "Nice clothes" He compliments your outfit

You wore a nice red winter outfit. Your outfit was a red bomb jacket with a red long neck sweater underneath it, red warm pants, red gloves and bonnet with some white details on it, and white winter boots

"Thank you, Martha bought me when we were shopping, she has a nice fashion sense" You wiped off the snow that fell on your jacket

You entered the house, and Clark helped you take your coat off. Every one of your teammates was in their civilian clothes, chatting animatedly

"Good morning, guys." You greeted them with your best smile

"Hey (Y/N)! Merry Christmas!" Wally appeared in a flash in front of you and hugged you tightly "I can't wait for you to see what I got for you" He says it so fast, making you laugh

"Merry Christmas, Wally." You told him happily

The smell of the food filled your nose, and you almost drool

"Hmm, the smell is delicious. I can't wait to eat it" You mumbled excited heading towards to the kitchen to greet Martha.

The brunch Martha served you was delicious, and for sure you were stuffed. After brunch, you all sat in the living room to open the presents

You sat in the armchair next to the fireplace, watching the fire glow and enjoying the warmness

"Now it's (Y/N) turn!" Diana called your attention

You stood up quite thrilled and sat on the floor in front of the decorated Christmas tree that you, Clark and Martha had decorated together.

"Open mine first, sister!" Diana told you with a big grin

You search underneath the Christmas tree for your sister's gift. It was a medium box with green wrapping and a golden gift bow

You open it carefully and burst a big smile. It was your favorite wine from the island and a bottle of the expensive whiskey you love. In the box had another bottle of white wine for you to try and a little box with a gold arm jewelry

"Are you trying to drunk me, sister?" You joke giggling and everyone laughs at your statement

"You know how hard it is to get this wine from the island, they sell out quickly" She had a proud smirk on her face "Thank you sister, I loved it" You searched for another gift and took the Bruce's present

You shake the box in your hands, trying to guess what is inside. You open the box with a curious look on your face. It has a professional camera and some accessories for the camera

"I hope you like it, I chose the best one for you. I can show you how to use it later." He smiles weakly but you knew it was sincere

"I really loved it, thank you very much, Bruce. We all have to take a photo together later," You state with a grateful smile on your face

You opened Martha's gift carefully. She had presented you with a beautiful red scarf that matched your clothes and a typical wool sweater with delicate details that symbolized Christmas

"Thank you, Martha, this is beautiful" You beamed and she smiled fondly "It's quite funny because I bought one of these for you too" You laughed weakly referring to the scarf, picking another present on your hand

"Now we are matching, darling." She winked to you delighted by your reaction

You opened Wally's gift and laughed loudly. Taking out the ugly green Christmas sweater, with the sweat brown pants and the accessory, you put on the reindeer headband

"I guess this is Christmas spirit? I'm feeling it. Thank you, Wally, you're the best!" You laugh happily

"You can use it as pajamas," He told you, showing you a yellow smile

You grab Arthur's present and say, "Believe me, I will" You mock him, and everyone laughs

It was a small box in a golden wrapping with a red gift bow. Inside was a simple medium gold hair comb and a gold handmade hair comb with delicate details and jewelry, it formed delicate flowers and leaves

"This is to improve your beauty even more" He comments charmingly

"Is this a fork?" Hal asked. Everyone laughed with his goofiness

"No you fool, it's a hair comb!" You are ecstatic by the beauty of the jewelry "It's handmade, am I right?" You gesture excitedly

"Yes, the best craftsman from Atlantis made it" He agreed proudly

"It's an amazing present, thank you, Arthur." You put the box aside, grabbing Hal's gift

When you opened it, you let out a confused huff. The box has two dog collars, some dog snacks, some dog toys, and other dog accessories.

"Hal, did you?" You asked with disbelief. Hal had a smirk on his face, nodding his head in answer

Clark appeared with two dog spawn dressed like Christmas reindeer. The dogs came running to you and jumped on you, licking your face. One was short and white. The other was big and black with brown spots

"You told me you like them, so why not?" He poked you, humored

"I can't believe it, thank you" You embrace him tightly

You search for Clark's gift and grab it underneath the tree, with the dogs around you smelling it and always jumping on you. You pet them gently

Clark's present was in a little red wrapping box with a white gift bow. You clumsy unwrapped the gift with the surrounding dogs, read the card, and left a shock sob when you saw what was inside the box.

"My perfume, how did you know?" Smiling, you splash some perfume in the air smelling it "I had a little help" He pets the white dog that was rubbing against his leg

"It seems he likes you" You comment, petting the black dog that sat on your lap

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"What are we doing here outside?" You run, trying to catch the dogs, but stumbled on the floor

"We gonna ride on the sled" Wally puts his arms on your shoulders

"Well, I'm sorry to tell you, but we don't have a sled" You elbow him with humor in your voice

"But I know someone who has it," He says, grinning 

"Oh, who else might be?" You ask interested

"Him" Wally point to the man who was sitting in the middle of the snow. Some cute reindeer were in front of the Santa's sleigh

"Oh my, is this Santa?" You put your hands on your mouth, shocked

"Yeah, go to him" Wally pushes you in his direction

"HOHOHOHO, Are you (Y/N)?" Santa asks, resting his hands on his big belly

"Yeah, Santa, have you received my letter? I swear to you, I've been cool this year" You walk closer excitedly, analyizng the man in front of you. You sat on his lap, and you looked into his blue eyes

"I got your letter, your wish will come, true believe it" Santa Claus answered, patting your head softly

"Diana, take a photo of me and Santa, please!" You asked, and she used your new camera. You and Santa look at the camera and smiled brightly

"The photos are amazing, the image has so much quality" She told you, and she took a front photo with you and Santa. She walked off, taking photos of your friends feeding the reindeer

"Thank you, Clark. For doing this for me, it means a lot to me"

You look around, watching everyone having fun. Wally was feeding the reindeer with Bruce while Hal and Arthur run around playing with the dogs and Diana recorded everything, taking photos and recording videos

"How did you know it was me?" He was shocked that you discovered that it was him underneath the fantasy

"You're the one that wasn't here, plus I heard some kids at the mall talking that Santa didn't exist, I know it. I just wanted a photo with him" You explained "I would recognize you anywhere, Clark" You state this with a shy smile

"I just wanted to make it special for you" He said flushing and avoiding your eyes

"You're making it especial" You reassured him, holding his hands and squeezing them softly

"(Y/N), are you flirting with Santa? Stop being gross!" Wally teases you

With a fast snow ball hit you sent him flying on the snow and you started a war with him, Clark was hit and joined you against Wally, your teammates joined the childish play

The team spent the day together, playing in the snow, throwing snowballs at each other, making angels on snow, riding the Santa sleigh, feeding the reindeer, and playing with the dogs. In the afternoon, your teammates and you stopped at an open café to drink hot chocolate and eat cookies

The Christmas party was reserved for some of Martha and Clark friends and the team. The dinner was delicious, and the music playing low made everything comfortable

Clark watched from a distance, Bruce teaching you how to use your camera in front of the fireplace

"Well, I guess you didn't present her with her wish, Santa" Diana jokes, watching you carefully listen to Bruce's words

"I just don't know how to do it right" He sighs deeply, feeling unsure of what to do about his feelings for you

"You're Superman. There's nothing that you can't do." She advised him patting his back, and walked towards you and Bruce. You distanced yourself, letting the two talk

That's when he approaches you. It was now or never

"(Y/N), Can we talk?" You jolted but nod in agreement

Clark walked you to a private part of the house, on the house balcony. You could feel the cold air on your face. It was freezing, but Clark seemed untouched by the cold outside

"So what happened?" Felling unquiet, you ask, embracing your arms around you, trying to stay warm

"Here, take it!" He takes off his coat, putting it on your shoulders

"Thank you" You avoid looking into his eyes. You shift your weight, trying to hide your anxiety.

He stays quiet while just looking at you. The way your hair was slightly falling in your face makes you look more beautiful, your flushed cheeks part because of the cold and other part because of his presence. He was astonished on how your presence would always lights the room and everyone seemed to love your presence. You also were using your perfume, which he particularly adores

"This is not how I planned to confess to you, but I feel if I don't do this right now, I will never have another chance" He fixes his glasses, feeling nervous. "I really like you (Y/N), the way you are genuine, honest and brave, how you love to help people, how you are gentle with my mom and our friends, you really light the room when you walk in. I love all of you. If you give me the chance, I promise I will make you happy" His words echo through your ears like a melody

"I like you too, Clark, how can I not? You've been more than amazing with me, nobody ever did what you did for me. Thank you for making my Christmas so special and magical. For always being there for me when I needed" You are thankful for having him since you joined the team. He has been so supportive and wonderful to you

You two stare at each other, enjoying comfortable silence and the cold breeze hitting your faces

He scratched his throat "(Y/N).. I have another gift for you" The way he said your name makes you feel goosebumps

"I don't have another gift for you, I'm sorry" You give him an apologetic look

"My present is standing right here" He gives his classic white teeth, looking with passion at you

He took out of his pocket a little box, it had a beautiful gold neckless and a pair of earrings. It was simple but beautiful anyway "For my very own Christmas love." His confession made your heart race

"This is beautiful, Clark," You told him, putting the earrings

He gently put the necklace on you. You thanked him shyly

"It looks like we are under the mistletoe" He looks up quickly and looks at you with a sly smirk. He did bring you here with the intention of kissing you

With a surge of confidence, you ask, "It means we have to kiss, it's the tradition, right?" You nervously look at him

"You're right, I guess you've been learning our traditions" He jokes, breaking the distance between you

The kiss was passionate, and he cupped your face, caressing your cheeks

"I guess Santa attended my wish" You giggled when you parted, resting your head on Clark's shoulders

"Thank God above." He smiles, breathing your perfume

"Finally, I thought you would never confess your feelings for each other. Can't wait to tell Hal what I just saw" Wally laughed, winking at both of you, and walked off in a flash

You groaned, imagining how Hal and him would mock you "I don't think I will stand to hear them make jokes about us without smacking their heads"

"Don't mind them" He chuckled, poking your nose then pecked your lips gently

"I guess this doesn't matter now. I got you with me" You press a tender kiss on his cheek

"I love you, Merry Christmas, Clark" You whisper brushing his hair behind

"I love you, Merry Christmas (Y/N)" He embraces you gently sharing his warmness with you

That was how occurred your first Christmas on human civilization. To be honest, you were thankful the gods could give you Clark to share your life with. Clark and you named the dogs Krypto and Bambi.

Christmas had become a tradition in the little family you are building with him. For now, it was just you, Clark, your unborn child and the dogs. Guess you couldn't ask for anything better that Christmas

[lovinglettersacrosstheverse]

Mail time!

An envelope!

A letter! This one's got some fun smells on it, but I promise I didn't wiggle on it more than necessary!

Letter:

To My Sunshine

I know you have to be away for a while longer, but I miss you everyday. I might actually be losing my sanity, slowly but surely. I love music, I always have. And I love my students. Most of the time. Now that I’m used to being a teacher. But there are moments…

They will not stop asking if mayonnaise is an instrument. One of them brought a container of mayonnaise and just started eating it in class. It turned out it was only vanilla pudding in a mayonnaise container. The kids were cheering, a trombone was put on someone's head and it got stuck. Sunshine, I used my Signature to lull them to sleep yesterday just to get them to settle down.

They have, however, been helping me understand the new apps and have apparently made an account for me and my music? They direct me to pose and I just feel silly, but they seem to be having fun. Is it bad I feel a little encouraged when they ask to listen to one of my songs at the end of class? They’re young enough I don’t think they’re making fun of it, but it’s hard to tell. Sometimes it feels as if even the small things in life stop making sense.

I’m sorry, I know I’m being dramatic but I miss you, you make things make sense when nothing else does. I felt so lost when I finally…. Gave up and became a music teacher. But you gave me hope and what feels like solid ground to stand on. Being a teacher feels less like a resignation of failure on my passions and more like another aspect of it, all thanks to you. And now that you’re gone and somewhere where I can’t talk to you or touch you, I’m starting to sink back to that same drifting numb feeling. 

I miss you. I love you. Can’t wait to see you again sunshine. I… I wrote a small tune for you. I hope I know you’ll like it. You’re not only my sunshine or even my muse. You’re the melody of my life.

Love,

Sunny Time Jack

P.S. Hope you don’t mind that the letter’s a bit of a mess. A few of the kids noticed me writing during break and insisted on decorating it for me.

[smittenskitten]

Trying to decipher Step by Step timeline

and failing.

This is just my takeaway from what we have seen so far. Lot of the timeframe I am assuming here are from their office work and Ae's pregnancy

episode 1: we learn Pat is a fresh recruit. It's only been a month since he joined Jian group so he is still in probationary period.

He has another 8 months till becomes a regular employee. Most company will keep their recruits in probationary period from anywhere between 2 months to a year. So in Jian Pat's probationary period is 9 months....like Ae's pregnancy

Side note: I never put this together but Pat did his internship at Ae and Beam's company.

Episode 2: A lot has happened. Pat is not having the best time with new Manager Jeng and at the very end when he is preparing to resign he gets a notification to do a peer review on Jeng. Usually peer review frequency varies from company to company but most perform theirs at the end of the quarter. Some mncs will perform peer reviews twice in one quarter, one being at the beginning and another one at the end. So that being said Jeng has to have been the manager for a few months for Pat to give such scathing review.

Ok, so it's Q1. Which would mean this somewhere between January-March

episode 3: The peer review is sent and Pat is stresses so by the end of this episode he has prepared his resignation letter. I don't know how to read Thai but google translator tells me this is dated February 2023.

episode 4: no specific date for me to follow but Forge project is in it's presentation stage + finalizing production company for ads.

episode 5: Jeng's dad's ultimatum, so Jeng has till the end of 23 to show progress for his department or his Dad is shutting it down

We also find out Ae is pregnant.

episode 6: nothing specific on the time. Put asks for a second chance

episode 7: lmao! I wish! But yes some companies do be giving maternity leave from 3 months to a year. But there is also the issue of paid, non-paid maternity leave which is a whole other thing.

From the looks of it Ae is not that far into her pregnancy???? So she might be waiting to take that leave later.

episode 8: Pat and Put have broken up. Ae's bump isn't that visible sitting in the middle but it's there.

episode 9: now we have some specific time again. Both of Pat's parents are visiting him to celebrate his birthday. Which is October 31st

We don't know exactly how far along Ae is. But it's the end of October and she found out she was pregnant in episode 5 so maybe in March/April!!!

Pat has his birthday and with that we are entering November. One last peer review perhaps? lol. Jeng has to show his dad significant change in the department but he is leaving Jian and looking for his replacement.

Yes please.

Ae is more that 30 weeks pregnant when she has her baby. Lets just assume they are well into December by now for my sanity and everyone else.

and this is late birthday gift from Jeng

in conclusion: it's been somewhere around a little over a year up till episode 9. Pat is likely a regular employee now.

edit: more timeline explanation on notes

[teabutmakeitazure]

Unfair Deal

>Yan! Pantalone x Fem! reader

a/n: 3 am post so not properly proof read. Please ignore any spelling errors. I just wanted to get this out of my system lol

Warning: mentions of undressing, no explicit mention of sex (but indirect), mention of kidnapping threat

Word count: 1k

------

An accidental stumble turned out to be a much larger nuisance. A guild commission led you to a delivery into a camp in the nearby forest. It paid well so you took it, unknowing of who posted it. You should've read the details.

When you did get there, you were immediately caught and interrogated by a Fatuus. With how you were panicking, it wasn't pretty. The soldier brought his supervisor since they couldn't figure out who actually commissioned the guild, but it just escalated things. The supervisor made snarky comments, the most outragious one being how someone like you shouldn't be associated with the guild and should just 'sit pretty at home'.

Safe to say, your blood boiled. You caused a ruckus by screaming at him and throwing in a few profanities here and there. Soon enough, you were interrupted by a hand on your shoulder. The man who did that is the same man who sent a letter to your home.

It's a simple request (or should you say command): your hand in marriage. You don't think you can stomach the idea of marrying a guy who's first words to you were threats. But alas, fate is cruel.

Your ecstatic parents quickly made the arrangements, happy with the prospect of their daughter marrying a harbinger. With no say in it and a very explicit threat of kidnapping from Pantalone himself, you resigned.

Soon the wedding was over, and you ended up in a hotel room of a place so expensive you couldn't even dream of it. But the man shrugging off his coat near the coat rack could. For him, this place might even be plain.

For someone who has so much money, he sure is petty for getting back at you like this.

As you sit on the bed idly, you count the seconds till he decides to pounce on you. It took you a lot of pep talking yourself to not be shaking when alone with him. After all, you're still somewhat scared of him. Too much power and too little morality is a bad mix. Especially in your case.

"You're awfully stiff, dear." The smooth, confident voice pulls you away from your thoughts, and you clench your fists harder under your dress. Not wanting to quiver even the slightest.

"Keep that up and I might mistake it for consent or approval." He walks towards you, slowly, but stops a few feet away from the bed. Light reflects off the crystal clean frame of his glasses and he puts his arms behind his back. After observing you for a moment, Pantalone smiles and shakes his head, deciding to approach you.

Immediately, you take in a nervous breath and your eyes widen at the sight of him walking over. The first night after the wedding is the most important one, according to your mother. She had explicitly told you to please him to stay in his good graces, but you can't even imagine having to partake in an intimate union with him.

He stops a few steps away from where you're seated on the bed, eyeing you up and down. From the way the dress falls onto the floor to your tight lipped expression and hands hidden under your dress. A smile makes way onto his face again and he chuckles. "Are you afraid?"

Feeling like a child getting caught staying past bedtime, you look away, suddenly finding the floor more interesting. However, it doesn't take long for his shoes to come into view.

"Ah, you really are. It's no good if a wife is afraid of her husband, now is it?"

You remain silent, not wanting to indulge him in conversation.

"You weren't so scared when you were blabbering that day. Where's that spirit? I was hoping to see it in a more… private setting."

With no response from your side, he sits down on the bed next to you. Thanks to your dress spread out, he's a good two feet away.

"At least raise your head. I'ld like to see you up close, all dolled up." You don't give any reaction and that's when he leans in and grabs your chin. With eye contact established, you saw how his pupils dilated. Safe to say it sent shivers down your spine.

"Why the cold attitude, wife? Was the ceremony not to your liking? Or is the dress not to your tastes?"

The ceremony had too many people and the dress shows too much of your back and neck than you like. You wore a coat at the wedding so it didn't count but it's uncomfortable now with how his gaze keeps falling to your chest.

He should just get it over with if he wants to consummate the marriage. At least you'll be out cold after it, as humiliating as it would feel.

When he raises a brow, you muster all your courage to give a reply before he gets mad. "It was fine," you gulp, "I'm tired. Can we please go to bed?"

Pantalone releases the hold on your chin, eyeing your figure. Adjusting his glasses a little, he looks at you side eyed. "Though I do admit that the ceremony was exhausting, I don't think you're that tired, now are you?"

"I am."

"Hm, you must also be cognizant of the fact that your parents lives are in my hands and so is yours. I want you to pick your choices wisely."

"I understand, but I'm not lying. I am exhausted." You make sure to furrow your brows a little to make it seem more believable. He probably caught on but who cares if he decides to spare you.

"Well, lucky for you, I'm craving a rest in my beloved's arms."

You internally celebrate the victory but it soon dies out when he leans in, lips grazing your earlobe.

"I will let you off the hook tonight if you let me undress you. We can consummate our marriage when we reach our home. The walls might be thin here anyway." He moves back, a hand now on your collarbone that's slowly descending downwards. "So then dear, may I?"

[rotten-games]

"Well, you certainly wouldn't describe me as 'confident', would you?" Herron mutters, reluctantly allowing you to peel him off his chosen wall. His expression clouds into resignation as you take up a hand and link your fingers. His palm is somewhat sweaty but the skin itself is soft and unmarred by hard labour save for a few stubborn calluses at the base of his index and middle fingers. Before you can grab at his remaining hand, he wipes off any remaining sweat on his robes.

Just putting this here to let ya'll know I'm still working on things.

Personal circumstance stuff under the cut if you feel like reading. It's not long, just a slight insight into what's going on.

I am still unemployed unfortunately so the work isn't as productive as I might like. An unfortunate downside to spending most of my suddenly free time writing up cover letters is that my own personal writing suffers for it.

I have the unfortunate belief that there will be a lot of segments within the latter part of chapter 4 that I won't be happy with once I hopefully do find a job.

I'm still gonna try to get this chapter done asap but 'asap' is in the biggest of quotation marks at the moment due to, well, priorities.

Sorry for the downer folks but I just didn't want to leave the blog dead. Not for too long at least haha.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Ok for your Infant and Monkeys AU (Love it sorry I butchered the name but I still love it) I just saw your relationship chart and I had to send you an ask of appreciation just for Yellow Tusk’s role in it alone.

Like I love me a Yellow Tusk HC that’s just him looking at whatever love quarrels his brothers got going on and being like “No amount of alcohol is gonna make this worth it” and just LEAVING is always gonna be funny to me.

So I gotta ask: When things quiet down, and Azure and Peng are either put in time out and/or chilling tf out, how well does Yellow Tusk get along with The Monkey Family. I am of the opinion that while he might be overwhelmed by the sheer level of wacky shenanigans they get up to outside of world ending threats, I feel like he would adjust very quickly and come to love the little scamps and be a very weird uncle figure to them. (Just my opinion of course!)

Yellowtusk's vibe in "The Monkey King and the Infant" au is pretty much; "I'm too wise and asexual for this nonsense."

Is ridiculously perceptive of relationships, and can tell when there's unsaid emotions.

He's 100% got the Brotherhood takeover stuff planned and ready to go. But his feelings on the matter shift the second: Azure and Peng start having relationship conflicts, the danger of transferring the Emperor's power is discovered so now they need a suitable host, now there's rebeling Celestials supporting them? Ok??

Then Azure starts dragging up his old crush on SWK, and Yellowtusk has been done with that nonsense since before the failed coup. ("He's not into you. Get over it.") But Azure's still crushing even tho Shadowpeach is a thing, and now Peng and a random Celestial general are crushing on Azure and the lion doesn't even notice?!?

(┛ಠ_ಠ)┛彡┻━┻

Yellowtusk be knocking back the Celestial peach wine like an aunt at christmas.

He probably just straight up Leaves mid-way through the takeover, cus he's Done with the others drama. Writes a letter of resignation and everything to Azure pretty much saying "Stop thinking with your lower-head and actually Rule and Govern you dumb lovesick cat."

Post-S4 I could see him settling down in the mountain village and just retiring in peace. The kids think he's a pretty cool old dude. Has def vibes of an uncle/grandpa who tells you all his stories from The War and drinks tea like it's water.

[triptanite]

Dear Gortash

This one shot is based on the dialogue option that Karlach has when interacting with the ornate mirror!

Option 3: I'd see the Hells filled with flowers, and my old boss Gortash on his hands and knees tending them for eternity.

the companion crew and co all need a shitload of whatever the faerun version of therapy is after saving the world and everything. this is how I imagine Karlach might find a bit of healing within herself

being real, it is a real therapeutic activity to write letters and the like to yourself or others and then to destroy it in some way afterwards. this can be good for venting, or cathartic when you dispose of it afterwards (e.g., ripping, shredding). so if you're feeling a little pent up and need something physical to do, there's an idea for you!

Pairing/s: none

Content warning/s: none

MASTERLIST

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

I didn't have an answer for her then, but I think I would now.

Sometimes, in my dreams, I see you.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

Gortash.

The crew and I are sorting ourselves out now that the dust has settled a bit. We're rebuilding things, healing and all that. We also get drunk under the stars and eat our weight in stew but I think that's also helping.

Some of us are working on things like forgiveness, and guilt. Some of us are training, socialising, moving on. All of us are grieving.

I struggled for a bit, thinking of a way to find my closure. I lost so much of my life. I was punished so deeply for a crime I never committed. I was put through the ringer, ripped out, and ran through again. One of my friends suggested that I write you a letter, and I won't lie, I laughed. A letter? What the Hells will that do?

But still, I kept it in the back of my mind. I think it's just in my nature to trust the people I care about. I carried a sheet of parchment and a quill in my pack with me for two weeks straight. Except every time I tried, I had nothing to say.

Then I went to visit my parents. I clean their gravestones and sweep away fallen leaves as often as I can make it. I tell them about my adventures, my health, everything really. I tell them about my nightmares, and my daydreams. There's a merchant at the cemetery who sells flowers out of a tiny cart. She's a widower. I pay her thrice her asking price for blooms to decorate my folks place, and ask her about her day. She was telling me about how she still talks to her husband sometimes, when she sleeps. She knows he's gone, but it brings her peace. She asked me about my dreams, and about my peace. I didn't have an answer for her then, but I think I would now.

Sometimes, in my dreams, I see you.

You're dressed plainly, not an adornment in sight. You're crouched low in the soil, joints aching, hands calloused. The knees of your peasant pants are permanently dust-stained, and there is dirt under your fingernails that you'll never get out.

You water an endless field of flowers of every variety gently, there is no other way you are able to do it. There is no company. No conversation. Just a gentle wind meant to carry the pollen of infinite blooms to each other. Light beams down onto you. You've developed deep crows feet from squinting when you look up to note it's movement - the artificial sun is the only way you can track the time here.

You are quiet. Frowning. You're too exhausted to rage anymore. You tend to the flowers, a stark and lovely contrast to the hells that lie just beyond the field. You can never reach the edge, you can never crush the flowers. They simply spring back when stepped on, they simply regrow when ripped out.

You would have spent the first few weeks screaming, ripping roots out of the ground, scheming, plotting, swearing. What else would you have done? But over time, you began to resign yourself to your situation. I hope you find comfort that you're not the only one who knows how that feels.

Far away from the world's living and dead, unable to destroy or devise, this is where you'll stay. You can't sweet-talk the flowers, you can't take advantage of the wind's trust. You cannot leave and you cannot die. You will never hurt me again.

And over time, these dreams will fade with the nights. I replace them with my friends and family. I'll close my eyes and think about meals in the moonlight, about playing with dogs and cats and owlbears, or about nothing at all. I think more about myself now. About what I want to do with every day that I have. I learned to make mince pies, I admire the setting sun. I make more friends. I treat myself. I deserve that. I saved the fucking world. I saved my fucking self.

When I think of you, tending to a field of flowers in the Hells forever, I feel relieved.

One day, I won't think of you at all.

And that makes me smile.

Bye forever, pal.

Karlach.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

my sweet gal Karlach deserves all this and more

ty for the love and kind words/tags on some of my works!!! It's seriously so encouraging to know that actual people like what I do!

as I said in my intro I'm pretty inclined to do bittersweet, wordy pieces so I think you can definitely see that across my works so far

anyway thanks again!! :3

1144pm 3/6/24 1252 4/6/24

[huorror]

interview

“...A visitor?”

It is not unusual to see visitors in the Parlor Car of the Astral Express. No, that’s not the unusual part. What is unusual is the morose young Foxian girl sitting on one of the couches, legs dangling off the side. Her dark eyebags hardly suit her otherwise youthful countenance and she seems to be mumbling to herself.

Ah, no use beating around the bush! The poor girl’s tail is on fire and she hardly seems to notice, much less care! It might not be burning the seat and there’s no smell of burning flesh, but surely it must hurt tremendously!

“Excuse me,” the hapless crew member can’t help but attempt to offer their assistance. “Do you perhaps need—”

The girl jolts out of her seat at the approach, ears and cowlick flopping as she bows deeply. The hat atop her head begins to slide off until she hurriedly puts it back in place.Standing up suddenly, her knees tremble like a newborn fawn. Her tail flicks (a sign of annoyance in Foxians, at odds with her timid demeanor), but the flame remains burning ever bright.

Her voice pitches upward, “I-I’m sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I?! It’s just so relaxing here… b-but I can go back if you need me to!”

Oh dear.

The deep commanding voice of a man with no clear source resounds through the car, “Stand up for yourself, you spineless girl! You were here first! Don’t let a mere human push you around!”

“B-but Tail…” The girl mumbles, wringing her hands.

Oh… oh dear. She’s talking to her tail, which is on fire. A bona fide weirdo, this one. Whatever is going on here is far outside the scope of an average crew member, but they’ve already initiated the conversation. They’d never hear the end of it if they just left a visitor in trouble, especially when they can feel the Conductor glaring daggers.

An awkward customer service smile rises to the crew member’s face. For the sake of their paycheck, they must follow through…!

“Are you perhaps… having trouble relaxing in your daily life? Is there something you’re not content with, Miss…?”

“Oh!” The girl seems to realize she has neglected to give her name, tired eyes widening. “H-Huohuo! I’m Huohuo and this” —she gestures to her tail, who huffs in response— “is Tail. And um, to tell you the truth, I’ve actually… been trying to quit my job.” “Trying?” Tail scoffs. “Her resignation letter never gets anywhere even close to the desk! Can you even call that trying?”

“Your job? Where do you work?”

Looking so ragged for one so young, it definitely has to be retail.

“I—I’m a newbie judge of the Ten-Lords Commission. My job is subduing evil spirits.”

The crew member’s eyes nearly bulge out of their skull. She’s not just some weird kid with a talking tail, but one of the judges! A sudden rush of relief washes over them that they had not voiced their thoughts of her looking like a helpless child or that they found her tail quite unnerving.

 “Ten-Lords?! You must be very strong, Miss Huohuo!”

Huohuo waves her hands frantically, “N-No, not at all! I’m not cut out for the job at all! I’m afraid of evil spirits, but they still make me go out and catch heliobi anyway! I’m sure they just promoted me by accident! Besides, Madam Hanya and Madam Xueyi are always helping me out… I wish I was even half as brave as them…”

“Bah!” Tail spits. “Forget them, this wimp is always crying for my help! You should hear her, always crying, ‘Save me, save me!’ Without a powerful heliobus like me by her side, she would have been consumed by some weaker spirit long ago. I keep her out of trouble!”

“N-no, you’re the one who gets me into trouble! Every time I try to run away, you just send me right back towards the enemies!” Huohuo sighs and puts her head in her hands. “I’m probably going to spend the rest of my life as the Ten-Lords Commission’s resident scaredy-cat… There goes Huohuo, cursed one and chicken extraordinaire… None of the movies I’ve been watching have helped at all, either. I really should resign, after all.”

“Bahahaha! You really think those are gonna help you develop some guts?! Experience is what you need! And that means fighting!”

The host and parasite comedy duo continue bickering between themselves, crew member entirely forgotten. Taking advantage of the chance, they slip away quietly. Paycheck be damned, dealing with a Ten-Lords judge and her pet heliobus is way above their paygrade! If someone else wants to step in, by all means, be their guest!

By the time they’re several cars over, an anguished cry can be heard in the distance.

“Ahhh! My vacation time is over! I-I don’t wanna go back to work…”

[deliciouskeys]

@cozycornerkinktober's prompt #14: Forced feminization

Private Halloween (Homelander x Maeve)

Warnings: Rated E. Top the Homelander, for the most part, although definitely some sublander, whippedlander elements and some genderfuck in case the prompt wasn't a giveaway. Precanon, set in 2014. AO3 link. Directly inspired by my favorite non-HL picture of Antony Starr:

Homelander laughs. “You’re crazy if you think I’m going out in that. What do you think the tabloids would say?”

“That you’re a fun guy with a sense of humor, maybe?” Maeve exhales smoke from her vape. Their relationship has really soured over the years, and she’s pretty sure she’s just acting purely from a place of spite nowadays, testing to see how far she can go before he decides to call it quits. Apparently he’ll tolerate a lot. It’s like he’s really in love with her or at least whatever sickening twisted version of love that his mind is capable of.

“Maeve, be serious,” he says. Oh god is he actually pleading with her? Why can’t he just see that they have nothing in common, that she’s smoking to annoy him, and that she’s specifically chosen a costume he won’t wear so she can tell him how lame and cowardly he is?

“What am I supposed to be serious about? You wearing a cheerleader costume for Halloween?”

Homelander purses his lips. “If I wear this in public they’ll think I’m a pervert.”

“Good. They’ll be right.” She’s really pushing it. She better be careful lest he decide that it’s easier to laser her in half than break up with her. But the grinding of his jaw stops and to her horror instead of walking out in a huff, he puts his hands on the bed and crawls forward, insinuating himself between her legs, nudging them apart and rubbing his cheek along one of her inner thighs. She tries to draw back but he just follows her body.

“If you really want me to, I’ll wear it. Just for you.”

Jesus, he’s in this kind of mood today? The ‘I’ll do anything for you’ knight in shining armor mode? Maeve really doesn’t understand what he sees in her. She’s not only not trying to be a good girlfriend, she’s actively acting repulsive towards him. And yet here he is, looking up at her with puppy dog eyes so she’s actually tempted to pat him on the head even though he’s a 33 year old man whom she’s seen do despicable things while out on missions together. Whom she’d already firmly said no to on the topic of marriage, despite the fear that he might kill her for it.

“What do you mean just for me? In the bedroom?” It’s not a good compromise at all, but Maeve does want to see him wear the outfit.

“Mmhmm,” he mumbles, making a trail of tiny kisses up her inner thigh, getting close to her boyshorts. He’s hated boyshorts ever since he found out that’s what they were called, so she wears them every day to annoy him. But he’s stopped complaining. Whatever she tries to do to annoy him, he just seems to get used to ignoring. He’s infuriatingly adaptable that way.

“Okay, fine, put it on just for me,” she says with resignation.

Homelander goes into the bathroom to change. Of all things to be weird and shy about, he still doesn’t seem to like her watching him removing the top piece of his suit. As if she doesn’t notice the contrast between the foam padded uniform and the smaller, leaner version that emerges out of that stiff structured shell unless she sees the undressing happen in front of her. Maeve wonders if she should be thankful he has never complained about any part of her body, given how many hangups he appears to have about his own.

Homelander walks out of her bathroom, red white and blue uniform on, “USA” in bold bright letters across the chest (Maeve was kind enough to at least keep that theme consistent). He’s still smoothing out the pleated skirt. Maeve has to admit the feminine getup actually makes him look muscular and manly, because even though she got a large size, his biceps are something a woman would find hard to achieve, and his calves have an unmistakably male musculature.

“Where’s the wig?” she asks.

Homelander looks up at her with a deer in the headlights look. “I… you want that too?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Maeve says coldly but gets up off the bed. “Here let me help you with the makeup too.”

Homelander follows her back into the bathroom, looking a little bit lost, probably wondering why she wants all this from him. If none of the other hints Maeve has dropped about liking women have ever sunk in, she’s sure this one won’t either. She puts the wig on him, tucking his real hair into the scratchy cheap mesh, a blond long bob with bangs and falling just below the chin. It doesn’t look half bad on him, somehow, despite being a cheap Halloween item. Maeve makes him sit down on the toilet lid and picks up her minimalist makeup bag. He doesn’t move a muscle as she does his face. She finds it surprisingly hard to do it for someone else, all her motions feeling strange when not directed by a mirror image. But she enjoys watching Homelander sit there so obediently, ramrod straight, face impassive, only moving his eyes when she instructs him to look up at the ceiling to get his upper lashes done, or to smack his lips to spread out the lipstick.

He glances in the mirror as they walk out of the bathroom but doesn’t seem to have any opinion on her work.

“Now you can eat me out,” Maeve says, spreading herself out on the bed, taking her underwear off and tossing it on the floor. Homelander’s nostrils flare– it’s yet another thing she finds disturbing about him, the fact that he can detect her arousal and visibly inhales it deeply. At least right now they’re in the privacy of her bedroom, but he’s done it when they’ve been out and about, and she was fully clothed. She’s never called him out on it, because she’s not sure he’s aware others can see him doing it, or even that he’s doing it at all.

Homelander doesn’t put any effort into acting in any way female, but when he hooks her legs over his shoulders, buries his face into her folds, and starts sucking and licking her clit like she’d taught him all those years ago, it suddenly doesn’t matter. Looking down at him in the wig and silly cheerleader outfit she can suddenly pretend this is someone else entirely, even a different gender, and it’s an amazing turnon. Maeve leans back and moans in pleasure, and Homelander redoubles his efforts, unaware of her little mental infidelity. She’s soaking his face and he, good boy that he is, doesn’t pause much at all, sometimes running his tongue further down to slurp up what’s spilling out of her, drinking it up as if he’s parched. She’s sure he wants to bury himself deep inside her, but he knows not to make a move until her say so. That’s another bit of good manners she’s trained in him.

“You’re such a good girl,” Maeve moans out, wanting to grab him by the long hair and pull but thinking better of it since the wig will probably slide right off.

Homelander doesn’t seem fazed by the particular words she's using in praise of him and reapplies himself with more fervor, sucking on a large area while still flicking his tongue across her sensitive spots. Maeve’s eyes are hazy with pleasure but she still watches the pleated skirt slide or bounce a little bit whenever Homelander has to shift to rearrange himself. She comes loudly, gripping the sheets, squeezing his head between her thighs with crushing strength. Any mortal wouldn’t survive that kind of pressure but she knows Homelander enjoys getting his head trapped in this orgasmic vise of hers.

She was going to be cruel. She was going to put on a strapon and make him get up on her cock and bounce around on it. She was going to make him do a cheerleading chant in falsetto and spell out her name and any number of other ridiculous things. But when she looks down and sees those same puppydog, now eyeliner-lined eyes looking up at her not just hopefully but lovingly, she can’t do it. He’s so clueless and pathetic, she can’t even mock him like she wants to.

“May I?” he asks, and oh how dopey and hokey he sounds with that formal question, and she can’t deny him.

Homelander picks her up with ease, and seats her on his cock as he’s standing. Maeve doesn’t like the position– all the boring aspects of missionary, but none of the comfort of being on the bed on her back. Her feet don’t even reach the floor so she’s dangling awkwardly, held up by him, at his mercy, and with a constant reminder of how weightless she is in his arms. But she won’t tell him she hates it, because that would mean she’s lied about the five hundred previous times.

“Oh Maeve,” he says, hiking her up higher so he can bury his face into her chest. Maeve sometimes wonders if he’s a boob man but has tragically resigned himself to her B cups because she’s the only one strong enough to withstand unbridled sex with him. “I love you.”

Maeve cringes. Maybe this is the one aspect where he easily take on the traditional female role– pining for a connection, openly talking about love, naively hoping it will get reciprocated even though he’s been unquestionably rebuffed. She thinks about this as he lowers her down, easily sheathing himself into her relaxed, still aroused body, fucking up into her with ugly low grunts and inelegant jerky motions. But the wig is still on, and rather than look at his twisted, pained looking approaching-O face, Maeve chooses to focus on the blond tresses framing his face bouncing to and fro with each thrust. She focuses on the tremble of his eyelashes– already dark and enviably long to start with– now garishly enhanced with mascara. And for a moment she can pretend this is a stranger, an athletic, strong, but still feminine stranger, who’s giving her the ride of her life. Maeve can’t remember the last time she came on his cock, but she beats him to the punch this time, another orgasm rocking through her and causing her entire body to shake in his grasp. He notices and grins weakly, before returning right back to his pained, scrunched up face as his own pleasure hits him.

They lie side by side in her bed afterwards, and he doesn’t make a peep about her vaping, just all smiles and cocky little winks from time to time. She didn’t realize how happy her finishing around his cock would make him.

“You make a pretty woman,” she says, trying to reemphasize what it was that revved her up so much. “Maybe you should wear that every time we have sex.”

He snorts. “Didn’t know you were a lesbian.”

“I’m bi, actually,” she says, wondering what on earth possessed her to finally tell him bluntly. Apparently she feels intent on testing how much he’ll put up with from her.

Homelander pauses, mulling over her words, and she starts to regret them, growing apprehensive. Sometimes she forgets how easily angered he can get at others, and how much damage he can do when the mood suits him. But the long pause culminates with a simple “Good one.” He won’t listen to what he doesn’t want to hear, that’s a trait she should know well by now.