#Leverage marathon

[renew-leverage]

LEVERAGE REWATCH MARATHON Streaming today: The French Connection Job

It’s Sunday, Leverage Marathon folks, time for another episode!  This week we’re watching the 4th episode of season 5, The French Connection Job, in which Eliot is a teaching chef, Hardison plays with a laser, Parker connects with her emotions, Sophie plays a hippie, and Nate knows the value of mushrooms.  Watch the episode with us on our Sunday Leverage Marathon discord server and post all about your feelings, thoughts, comments, anything & everything.

Come on in, say hi to your fellow fans, get comfortable.  We’ll be starting in about15 minutes at roughly 3:30 PM Eastern U.S. Time.

[grittyreadsfic]

have you read the sidgeno leverage au on ao3?

i had to go and double check on ao3 because this sounded vaguely familiar but it wasn’t in my tracking doc from this year or last year. not sure which one you’re talking about but i have read score of a lifetime! haven’t read the other one but i’m very 👀👀

[theatrical-penguin]

People keep asking me if I’ve watched these shows coming out or what books I’m reading. I don’t know how to tell them that I’m only mentally able to handle comfort shows and fanfic right now. I don’t have the spoons to invest in anything new.

[joonberriess]

𓆩♡𓆪 “It’s the way you can ride, think I met you in another life, so break me off another time,” – jock!jk

·˚ ༘ 💌 TAGS — creampies, marathon sex (mentioned), face-sitting/riding, dirty talk, NASTY SMUT, soft moments too, drunk sex, oc being lovely and jk being obsessed with it, high sex, lazy sex, get ‘em cowgirl style, unprotected sex as always, jk gets sappy when drunk, love these two 🥺

MONDAY

Mondays are reserved for studying after partying the weekend with Jungkook and his friends. You ran your errands in the morning and by lunch you were back home with Luna doing assignments and lounging around in your room. Jungkook usually was off doing his own things and then later dropping by with food at your house. Nights however weren’t any different.

Mondays are for winding back and relaxing, and lucky for you Jungkook knows exactly how to get you to unwind with him on a peaceful Monday night.

“Jungkookie,” you softly moan out, “feels so good, ‘s deep inside me.” You murmur out with your head tilted back and hands settled over his chest for leverage.

Jungkook had his lip caught between his teeth and his face was scrunched in pleasure. He lets breathy moans slip past his lips, his hands were grabbing anywhere he could reach. His hands greedily squeezed and played with your ass cheeks while you worked your hips up-down, side to side, and back-forth over is cock. Oh Jungkook was convinced you were made for his cock.

“Just like that baby,” Jungkook whispers in a huff, “made it so messy, gonna have you clean it all up.” He licks his lips and looks down where his cock appears with a sheen coat of creamy slick, a ring of white forms around the base of his cock which disappears every time you sink back down.

You mewl at the idea of licking his cock clean and your hips stutter in their movements, his cock digs into that sweet spot and you roll your hips eagerly for more. “Love making it messy for you,” you whimper, “sounds so good.” Your words are slurred from the pleasure, your eyes flutter shut as you start riding him faster.

The headboard begins hitting the wall repeatedly from the force of your movements. You raise your hips up and down on his cock, bouncing the way you know will drive him crazy. Jungkook can’t do anything but lay there and take it as you use his cock to get off. He becomes more vocal and less talkative as he loses himself to the feeling of your pussy massaging his cock.

“Oh fuck..” Jungkook throws his head back and clenches his jaw, the way your hips slow down at the base of his cock and swivel in a small circle has him gripping the sheets for life. “Like that.” He swears you’re trying to kill him or something.

His groaning and slight whimpers send you over the edge, your tummy feels like there’s a ton of butterflies in there with the way he’s moaning out for more. You eagerly bounce on his cock with wet slaps as your ass makes contact with his thighs. His cock perfectly aims for your g-spot and has you shaking from your thighs.

“Jungkook..! ‘M gonna cum..!” You throw your head back, “Gonna cum, gonna cum,” you repeat breathily as a low whine slips past your lips.

Jungkook rolls his hips upward to aid you, his fingertips press into your hips as he grabs you for dear life. “Shit y/n,” he hisses out as he throws his head back, he feels your cunt clench down tightly on him and it makes his poor cock throb with need.

It happens so quickly neither of you register your orgasm at first, at least not until he feels your cunt squeeze him rhythmically, pulsing as your cream all over him and make the slick dribble down to his balls. Jungkook slows you down as his cock throbs weakly in response, it’s easily one of the most intense orgasms he himself has ever had. He feels like he’s in paradise as he collapses into the bed.

“Oh shit..” He gulps, what exactly just happened?

You collapse on top of him with a weak little moan, “Felt so good..” You whisper out as your eyes flutter tiredly, “I don’t wanna get up..” You mumble. Jungkook slaps your ass in response with a tired groan.

“You have to, gotta clean up.” He sleepily replies, ignoring your whine of protest. What a night..

+

TUESDAY

Tuesdays are free days, you always like to stay in and take the day off from studies and anything work related. You spend it lounging with Jungkook in his apartment watching some random movie on his TV while he rolls a blunt in the background propped up against your ass using it as a pillow.

“Baby,” Jungkook mumbles and licks over the wrapping paper, “I want some..” He murmurs out in a low whiny tone.

“Some what?” You softly reply.

Jungkook reaches up to grip your soft ass cheek, fondling it in his hand as he turns his head to give it a soft little kiss, “You know what.” He murmurs as he sets aside his blunt on the rolling tray and turns over. He cages you in under him, arms settling over both sides of you as he leans down to kiss your shoulder, “What are you watching?” He says softly as he looks over your shoulder.

“I put on that new Scream movie that came out.” You reply softly, shivering a tiny bit because you feel his necklace dangle behind your neck.

He hums nonchalantly and kisses over your shoulders, sighing deeply as he turns his face to hide away in your neck. He slips his greedy hands under you and into your shirt, cupping both tits in his hand as he rubs his thumb over your nipples and occasionally pinches the soft buds. When you whine out his name in that sweet little voice of yours he can’t help it, he turns you over on to your back and leans down to kiss you.

You softly moan against his lips and wrap your arms around his neck, he settles himself nicely over you with his hands splayed over your hips gently. Jungkook’s lips move against yours slowly. He's not rushing or anything, just savoring this nice moment with you. You’re not in much of a rush either anyways.

“Wanna smoke some?” He asks softly when he pulls away from the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting both of your lips. He stares down at you with half lidded eyes and his lip between his teeth.

You look back up at him with hazy eyes and nod, “Yeah..” You pull him down for a gentle kiss, “Just a lil’ okay.” Jungkook nods and his eyes flutter shut again, kissing you while he reaches over for the rolling tray.

When you both pull away from the heated kiss you’re both panting softly, the movie is long forgotten and Jungkook focuses on lighting the blunt. You sit back and watch as he takes a small hit, hissing under his breath as he holds the blunt out to you. “You don’t have to.” He gently reminds you like every other time.

“I’m fine..” You softly say and take the blunt from his hand, taking a semi-long drag like he’s taught you before. It’s been a while so you end up coughing a tiny bit but Jungkook simply smiles as he drags you onto his lap. “ ‘m okay Jungkookie..” You murmur and pass the blunt back to him.

Jungkook takes a long drag from it as he lays there with his arm behind his head. Occasionally he passes it back and forth with you until there’s nothing left of it. You’re both left lying there with half-lidded eyes, high out of your minds but more importantly..horny. With Jungkook there’s no in-between, either he’s super hungry/sleepy or he’s super fucking horny. Same went for you.

It’s no surprise you end up lying under him with your panties cast to the side and his cock inside of you. Jungkook lazily leaves his marks all over your neck and tits he’s worse than usual as he covers you in dark purple blotches. The feeling sends shivers crawling up your spine, the pleasure is heightened from the weed doing its magic. You swear everything is ten times more better this way.

Jungkook lays his body flat against yours, groaning quietly into the side of your neck as he clenches the pillow tightly. You really made a mess this time given that his pelvis is smeared in your slick, every thrust sends you reeling in pleasure from the way his fat cock rubs against your oversensitive walls and his hips rub up against your swollen clit. You could really just cum from this slow pace alone.

“Kook..” You murmur out quieter than usual, your hands weakly come up to grip his shoulders. Your thighs shake from holding them up around his waist, they slip every so often until you end up lying there bonelessly with a weak whimper escaping your lips. “ ‘s so good..” You mumble.

“Yeah..” Jungkook turns to capture your lips in a slow kiss, “Need more..?” He hums out, reaching down to thumb at your slippery throbbing clit.

You keen in pleasure, hands shakily coming down to grip his wrist to stop him, “ ‘s too much..!” You gasp out, “Nooo..” You whine out, “Gonna make me cum too fast..”

Jungkook doesn’t reply and keeps rubbing instead, his hips kick upward a bit more forceful but still maintaining that lazy pace. He silences your moans and whines with a kiss, panting hotly into your mouth as he moves his lips against yours. The noises you two emit from the filthy kiss only makes you throb even more, you feel a bit of drool slip down your chin too..

“Mmm…” You wrap your arms around his neck and hold him to you, panting as you try to pull away from the kiss.

Everytime you do move away he follows you, lips pressing against yours insitently as he moans lowly, “Stay still for me baby..” He mumbles, “Wanna kiss you.” He whispers as he stares into your eyes. Both of your lips are coated in spit, glossy and swollen from basically sucking eachother’s faces off. Jungkook thinks it makes you look cuter.

“Jungkook,” you gasp and arch your back. He hits your g-spot dead on at this angle and it sends you into a surprise orgasm. It hits slow and makes goosebumps form all over as you tremble under him whimpering. He lazily smiles and keeps fucking you past your orgasm, chasing his own as he hugs you tightly and buries his face in your neck.

You lay there whining for him in oversensitivity as your cunt clenches around him tightly. Jungkook cums after a few more thrusts, he doesn’t make any noise and simply shivers as he slumps against you. “Ah.. fuck.” Jungkook mutters, “Baby, you want somethin’ to eat?” He smacks his lips as he slowly sits up, cock slipping from your wet pussy with a lewd squelch.

“Chips?” You softly say.

“Okay..” He slowly rolls out of bed, “Stay here, I’ll go buy some from the 7/11. I won’t take long, love you.” He comments on his way out after re-dressing.

“Love you too.” You sleepily smack your lips and lay back down with a sigh.

+

WEDNSDAY

Wednsdays you do your laundry, you find it so much easier to do it in the middle of the week that way you have it out of the way.

Jungkook sits there with his hands in his pockets just admiring the pretty view, oh it’s a view alright. You’re bent over digging through the dryer wearing these tight little shorts you got from PINK, you even wear this white tank top that rides up and shows your soft little tummy. Jungkook tilts his head with a stupid smile, kicking his legs as he watches your cute ass (literally).

“Jungkookie, I didn’t know that you had to take your dry clothes before the timer ends because then your clothes shrink! Can you believe that, look what happened to my undies.” You lift up the red lace undies to show it to him, dangling them right in the air where everyone looks and stares in shock.

Jungkook chuckles quietly, “Oh you’re so fucking cute.” He whispers under his breath and turns to side-eye someone who gives you a judgemental look, “C’mere, I can’t see them from here.” He says patting his thigh.

Like a puppy you come right over with the basket of dry clothes, huffing as you set the basket off to the side. You step in between his legs and lift the panties up, “See? I think they’re going to fit tighter now.” You pout.

“Tighter the better.” He grins and swoops down to take the garment out of your hands. “So,” he starts as you step away to the side, “are you still down to go out later? Jimin wants to go to this new bar that opened up, opens around eleven I think.” He tosses your panties into the basket as he gently taps your arms with his fist.

You nod, “Oh yes! I even bought this new outfit that I really like Jungkookie, it’s pink, it’s cute, and it’s pretty.” You cheekily smile. He laughs and you keep going, “The only downside is I don’t have anything to cover up with when it gets cold..” You pout sadly but then smile at him, “Can I have your hoodie? I think it’ll look super cute.”

“Sure, knock yourself out baby.” Jungkook grins softly as he picks out a few of your panties from the basket to neatly fold, “Maybe you should buy more of these,” he dangles the lace panties in your face, “they make your ass look so pretty.”

“I know! I was thinking about getting more because of how comfy they are!.” You smile softly and step between his legs again, giggling when he wraps his arms around you tightly, “Jungkookie if you help me fold the rest of my stuff I’ll show you what I got on right now.” You tease softly in his ear.

Jungkook hops off that counter so fucking fast.

+

THURSDAY

Thursdays are the busiest for you, they’re spent going to your lectures and turning in important papers. Your poor little brain is so fried by the time you’re done! Nothing beats coming home to Jungkook though, he already knows exactly what you need.

“R-Right there..!” You gasp and bury your fingers in his hair, “Please, please, please,” you beg under your breath and rock your hips against his face. Jungkook does not disappoint, he gives it his all, lapping at your slicked up hole and sucking on your fat little pussy lips, groaning and occasionally going back to your clit.

His strong arms hold you down over his face, his nose occasionally bumps into your clit whenever you move forward a tiny bit too much. You put one hand on the headboard and angle your hips down so your pussy sits perfectly atop his face. You’re half tempted to just ride his tongue, to make him take it while you get yourself off on him. He wouldn’t mind..would he..?

Jungkook’s hands squeeze your asscheeks tightly when you begin to ride his face earnestly. He moans softly and manages to catch your clit in his mouth, sucking harshly before letting his tongue run over it. “Kook..!” You sob out, hips humping his face as you rub your clit over his soft tongue over and over again.

Jungkook let you have it, groaning under you as he slapped your ass while you rode his face. He felt your thighs squeeze his head from the pleasure, shaking every so often as your hips stuttered in their movements occasionally. He was in pure heaven right now with a mouthful of pussy and your thighs as his earmuffs. He didn’t EVER want to leave.

“I’m coming..!” You whimper all breathy and high, “J-Jungkookie..!” You gasp out and your hips come to a stop as you cum hard. Your clit throbs and your pussy pulses around nothing. It feels so hot between your legs after such an intense orgasm. You almost forget Jungkook’s under you. “Oops..” You whisper and climb off of him, “Did I almost kill you?” You pout.

Jungkook pants softly as he lays there staring at the ceiling, “No.. even if you did I’m pretty sure that is what heaven feels like..” He whispers like he’s seen a whole new world, “Next time, wear your Sailor Moon costume.”

+

FRIDAY

Fridays are the best. The weekend is coming, classes are out for you, and Jungkook has plans for the two of you. You’re so ready to forget all about your stupid classes, and not to mention the fact that you’re looking forward to doing no work for the next two days.

Tonight Jungkook takes you out to a party his friend throws. You dance together and have a couple of beers before ending the night with good old fashioned body shots. Jungkook ends up taking about four shots from your pretty little body, and by the time you’re both going home in a uber he’s drunk and so are you.

Drunk nights lead to drunk sex, and drunk sex is hot, nasty, and it lasts all night.

You’ve been at it since you both stumbled into his room. He has you spread out under him wearing nothing but your pretty pink heels and that damned g-string with his intials hanging from the front and the back. The room feels hot and stuffy, the sheets are ruined and the headboard won’t stop banging against the wall. Your pussy makes the loudest noises ever, squelching wetly from both your creamy slick and his cum.

A light sheen of sweat covers your bodies, you’re not too sure how the hell he has so much stamina at the moment but you’re not complaining. In your drunken state you manage to pull him in by your legs, heels digging into his back as you cry out for more. Jungkook doesn’t mind, he carries on fucking you like nothing else matters. His balls slap against your taint creating this fopping sound everytime he bottoms out.

“Shit–” He moans out, “You look so goddamn pretty right now baby, pussy’s so fucken wet.. God look at those tits,” he slurs out and leans down to suck a nipple harshly, “fucken love fucking you.” He switches to your other nipple with a low groan.

You mewl in pleasure and hold on to the bed sheets for dear life as he fucks you within an inch of your life. It’s getting harder to hold back your orgasms when he’s pressing into your g-spot over and over again. This will go down in history as one of the best dickings he’s ever given you.

“y/n,” he moans, “look at me,” he pulls away to cup your face, “fuckin love you, you know that? Gonna make you my baby mama, marry you n all that shit too.” He grinds into you while he says this, “You love me too don’t you baby?” He moans out. You nod vigorously with tears in your eyes from the pleasure, you don’t trust your voice to reply verbally. Luckily he seems content with what, “Fuck,” he slams into you, “ ‘m gonna cum again..” He mumbles.

Jungkook fucks you until the sun rises, and by the end of it you’re left laying there with cum spilling from your pussy and sweat on your body. Jungkook somehow ended up on the ground sleeping in the mess of blankets and pillows, you don’t comment to much on that..

+

SATURDAY & SUNDAY

The weekend is reserved for fun, and fun comes in many forms. It could be Jungkook taking you shopping, going out to eat with friends, or even going out for drinks. This time however you’re both nursing the biggest hangover you’ve ever had. You decide a self care weekend is in order.

You both order takeout and spend the day inside curled up watching movies and trying to stave off those pounding headaches. “Owie..” You whimper and curl up into Jungkook’s neck, “The lights are hurting me.” You whine out, “Off, turn ‘em off..”

Jungkook hisses as he quickly shuts off his bedroom light, “Fuck I’m never drinking like that.” He shakes his head, “Next time pinch me if you see me trying to take shots or something baby.” He lays his head on yours with a sigh.

“That’s mean, why don’t I give you kisses! That way you focus on me and we can dance. Wait, do you want me to tell you no too for beer?”

“Oh you sweet thing.” Jungkook whispers under his breath, “Babe, beer is just as bad as the shots we drank, so yes, I need you to tell me no for that as well..” He trails off, growing sick from the thought of any more alcohol. You nod a bit too quickly because then you’re doubling over whining about the pain and dizziness, “You and me both baby.” Jungkook says as he sighs, “You and me both..”

And that’s how your week goes with Jungkook.

TAGLIST: @fragmentof-indifference @jungkooksseuphoria @kooliv @angelarin @jjeonjjk7 @lilliankoo @pb-n-juju @ellesalazar @saweetspoiled @laylasbunbunny @prettyprincejk @cherrysainttt @hyunjinswifeee @joongraduatewithonor @hellbornsworld @leire-mia @m1sss1mp @lissful @winkii @lifeless-firefly @exactlygreatcoffee @taestoess @ayalies @floweryjeons @softtcurse @lilspinachwrld @tearyjjeon @littleobsessedkitty @lovelovelovebts @angeljmnie @rerefundslocals @bangtans-mama @thvhoe @maddkitt @tvse @ohjeon @teteswtnr @jkslovey12 @kelsyx33 @milfpo1ice @sluttydidi @ztyur @beomgyuult @shescharlie @sweet-sourhotcoco @lalita-7 @hazzzelsdimension @p34rluv @kook-net @bonita0-0 @vmapy @dahliadaenerys

[nouearth]

nsfw alphabet w/ bruce wayne.

bruce wayne x male reader.

a/n: something new i've been meaning to try, so thank you for this request for finally pushing me to do so!

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

we all know bruce is a busy man. it's an unfortunate norm to wake up in the morning to his side of the bed and see nothing but the wrinkles of the bed sheets that once warmed his body; to visit him at work because he forgot lunch (again) and wait in his office because he was currently in another meeting; to watch him with exhaustion and worry in the night while he scans through evidence files regarding a new criminal case.

in short, it's exhausting to even think about putting yourself in his shoes, and bruce wonders how you managed to stay with him for so long. it's not his fault, though, and you tell him that through sweet whispers in his ears when he's feeling down, through a simple doting embrace when he falls asleep during the rare occurrence you two could watch a movie together. and he's grateful to have someone like you.

whenever you two had sex, bruce would make sure he took his time with you. he doesn't stop until his body is spent, until your body is wrecked from the love and lust he has for you, and when you two finally finish after a series of rounds, he holds you close. breathing, panting—floating because he lost count in how many times he had come in your wrecked hole.

he spoons you, your back to his sweaty chest, refusing to pull himself out of your hole (at least until his cock goes limp), and he likes having his palm over your own chest to remind him that you're still here. your heart runs an electrifying marathon, then slowly comes to a calming jog because he adores your body, caressing and allowing his hands to roam free wherever he pleases. he loves feeling every tremor your body would retrieve as he dozed you off with a slurry of languid kisses across your nape, then the melt of your muscles the closer he holds you, and when you've fallen asleep and let slumber press your full weight into him, he does the same—because you're safe now.

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

not to sound like a pervert, but bruce really loves your thighs. whether they were exposed in those shorts you like to wear inside the manor or deliciously full and contained in those dress pants he brought for you; he always had his hand on your lap. whenever he needed your attention and you were sitting next to him, he would squeeze your thigh because you were ticklish there. whenever you two went out to eat, he preferred sitting next to you because your thigh was the toastiest furnace for his hand. he just liked how... complex your thighs were. soft and malleable to touch yet toned and firm when he suckled on the flesh. not to mention, they were the perfect handles whenever bruce went down on your cock and sucked you off.

for bruce, he's quite proud of his shoulders. they've always been broad since he was younger, but with intense training, they've only gotten larger and broader since then. and he's glad that he isn't alone in this inclination. whenever bruce was stressed, you'd massage his shoulders until he snapped out of his migraine and turned to thank your presence with a kiss. and of course, bruce's shoulders weren't for purely aesthetics. they were also extremely useful, practically acting as your own bike handles, as you rode his cock. they provided you balance and leverage as you worked a sweat on riding out his orgasm inside of you, until your ass was thickly filled with his warm seed. and even that, that doesn't stop you from stopping and milking him out.

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

god, when it came to you, he is obsessed with your cum. he's completely enthralled how much cum could come out of you simply from him fucking you, and it was why he preferred you riding him, or at least on his lap, so he could have the best view of your cock spitting out thick loads of cum and fuck, splash zone much? he loved how warm it was when you would spray across his face, even his face at times as he proceeded to fuck you harder. and knowing that it would make you blush and whine, he loved scooping your cum up off his body and tasting you. nowhere near sweet like fantasies have endorsed, but perfectly and deliciously edible on his tongue, to the point where he makes sure he'll be sucking you off clean before you doze off.

for bruce, he loves the sight of his cum anywhere on your body. in your ass, on your back, between your thighs, every place imaginable was a turn on. but if he had to pick, fuck... coming on your face was a true delight that would beckon him for another round simply from watching your features get layered and layered with his thick loads. it was dirty, erotic, and demeaning, especially as you waited for his loads on your knees, but fuck—he couldn't get enough of it. he couldn't get enough of decorating you in his own musk.

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

it's all about taking control for bruce. whether it's him as the caped crusader or him in bed, bruce likes being treated as someone respectable, someone with honor, someone with authority. and when it came to you, he likes being called sir.

on some occasions, it would be your secret code for him if you were horny and needed to go somewhere private with him in public.

feeling a little famished, sir. hm? couldn't quite hear you. sir, i said i'm feeling famished. now get in the bathroom before someone takes— okay, okay! geez.

on many occasions, bruce would use it to his advantage and tease you in bed. the tip of his cock would barely graze your pucker, tracing and circling the tender flesh with a covet for your begging. c'mon, tell me what you want. use the right words. f-fuck, please. i n-need your cock, sir. louder. i need you to speak clearly. sir! please! sir! i need you cock!

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

they weren't wrong when the media labelled him as a 'playboy'. although, he had definitely settled down by the time he met you; earlier on, it was nonstop hook-ups with majorly women. for men, he'd leave it at blowjobs and nothing more. but hey, despite his inexperience with men, a hole was a hole, right? as long as it took his cock without any pushback, there was no complaint! besides, there was little difference in pleasuring women and men. he even found it exciting to learn from you, to learn with you, in how to give each other the best pleasurable one could offer.

you could proudly boast that you were the first one to put a finger in bruce's ass. and perhaps, convince him to put something else inside of him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

it's already been mentioned before, but bruce loves having you on his lap. not because of laziness or anything, but he truly loves your body and how incredibly vulnerable it had become as you fuck yourself on his cock. it was a culmination of your body putting on a performance for him and showing off his favorite parts about you, exposing it and further enticing bruce to do whatever he wanted to you, with every single bounce.

the bounce of your cock and pecs in rhythm with your hips, fucking yourself down on his cock; the droplets of sweat covering your skin in a greasy yet glorious sheen that could make him cream inside of you right then and there; the change in your expressions whenever bruce began fucking up into you instead, meeting your own hips in a steady and quick pace. his arms hurt from straining his own weight, but fuck was it worth it when you came all over him in thick, long spurts.

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

bruce isn't usually humorous in bed. rather, he finds enjoyment in teasing you through a mixture of his demands and his actions. what always worked was pulling his cock out until only the plump tip was nearing its exit, and he always found amusement in how quick desperation came to possess your body and thoughts as you'd wiggle your ass back in attempt to shove him back inside.

mm-mm, what's the word? p-please, sir!

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

since you've known bruce, he had always maintained a very tidy and orderly appearance, probably because he was constantly in the spotlight since he was a kid, and his groin completely mirrored that upbringing. rather than completely going bare, he likes leaving enough hair to provide you a preview of what's to come after the first few centimeters of trimmed hairs—an appetizer before the main course, he reckoned.

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

with how much work and his second persona has taken over his life, that left little time with you, and he feels absolutely guilty about it. it depends on the mood, but whether you two were engaged in rough or vanilla sex, bruce made sure to stick close to you. lace his fingers into between yours, have his mouth on your body at all times, mark you and kiss you wherever he hadn't, remind you how much he missed you, how much he loved you, how you were only his. fuck, he was possessive, and you found that incredibly romantic as much as it was suffocating at times. he made sure you praise you, to remind you how beautiful you looked taking his cock like this.

and before he falls asleep, he'd always whisper in your ear that he loves you, even if slumber had already taken you as hostage and stripped you away from the comfort of his assurance.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

bruce tries his best from jacking off, especially since he knows how much more gratifying it is to have you clench around him; to have you on your knees and swallow his cock down. but fuck, you were a tease. you loved sending him thirst traps whenever you knew he would be swamped up in a day full of meetings, and you knew you'd successfully infiltrated his mind when he would dislike your message with a thumbs down.

though, thanks to bruce sending you countless videos of him rubbing himself through his pants, you were left with little imagination on how bruce was spending his short break.

bruce has never been so thankful for you in his life. it took some convincing to get bruce on board with filming himself fucking you. and ever since then, bruce no longer had to rely on the memories of your warm touch, of your sweaty scent, of your whimpers as he blue-balled himself in his office.

right then and there, he'd whip his cock out from the zipper of his pants, and jacked off to the most recent video between you and him on his phone. and not to toot his own horn, but fuck was bruce a great director. up-close shots of your body, glistening under a layer of your own hot sweat, followed by thick droplets from bruce's. the flash on his phone made it so much more erotic, like an amateur porno, as it would focus on his cock driving deep into your ass from his perspective, his groans rumbling intimately over the speakers. bruce's abdominal muscles would flex and his core would engage as he mustered another strength to power through exhaustion, fueled by your begs and whimpers for him to fuck you harder, and fuck, it was better than porn. to recount and watch how he wrecked you that night made him bust multiple thick loads, and unfortunately soil his pristine suit.

to which, you'd most definitely pay for, one way or another, when he gets home from work.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

remember when i mentioned bruce liked having control? well, that definitely comes into effect when he's rough-housing you. only if you're in the mood of course (and you were always in the mood), but there's something so gratifying to him when he has his hand around your neck, your skin blooming under the warmth, squeezing harder and harder as he's fucking you into the bed. being rough with you also goes hand-in-hand with his praise kink, singing you low and sweet affections in your ear while you're taking his cock like you've always meant to.

that's it, fuck. good boy. like that? you like that? fuck, your sweet hole loves that.

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

he'd love to be more experimental, but unfortunately that has to account for his schedule and for the most part, you two mostly have sex in bed. if not, it was a little quickie in his office. which isn't bad, but the idea of his temptation wearing his patience thin and just absolutely ravishing you in his car, or in a bathroom some place, had run through his mind multiple times.

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

as much as bruce knew that you dreaded it, there was a reason why he insisted on you coming to his charity galas. it was those god-damn suits he'd buy for you and it would be the only time he'd think to himself that the money was well-spent, if it even mattered to him.

bruce, i don't think i need another suit. what's wrong with the ones you got me two years ago?

out of style, out of season. see, i told you there's a reason why we don't follow trends.

it was distracting. it was the rare times where you'd look completely different from your normal self. your hair in a different style. your suit tailored according to your build. your confidence covertly reviving because you didn't want to admit that you actually really liked looking like this. your forearms breaching free when you rolled up your sleeves, and fuck, it was so seductive. if bruce hadn't dressed you and helped out with the styling, he'd assume you'd come from old money.

sometimes he'd regret it because all eyes were on you, on bruce's man, and it was a complete nuisance dealing with drunk patrons attempt to flirt with you as if you could even understand anything they were saying with their limp tongue in the way of their speech.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do)

listen, bruce is down for anything, but he doesn't exactly get wax play. maybe he's been almost set on fire too many times to count, but the idea of accidentally burning your skin because he poured too much or something makes him freak out. it was more about the discomfort regarding your safety, than his overall distaste for it.

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

bruce doesn't admit it, but in your words, he's pretty selfish. not in a bad way because he always makes it up to you afterwards, but it was the control thing coming to play again. you suck him off first, and then he'll reward you with his own mouth if it was deemed worthy enough (you know it's a bluff, but it's always fun to play along).

he loves seeing you take his cock. it feels like almost every other day where you're down on your knees and sucking him off, and he hasn't gotten tired of it yet. you know where his cock like no one else, know where he was the most sensitive, how he liked it sloppy and dripping from your spit. it was a fucking turn on to see you so devoted to pleasuring him.

for giving, he's better at rimming than giving you blowjobs. for the most part, he hates that gagging feeling whenever he barely took his cock in your mouth, and you'd always tease him for it, making him blush profusely. he's never been bad at something, even if you don't say it, so he makes it up in devouring your ass like it's been a week since he's had proper food. like your blowjobs, he likes having you dripping in spit, your musky hole wet and tender from the amount of turns he's had licking and fucking you with his tongue. and the way you pushed your ass out and arched into the back as he buried his nose in between your cheeks discovered a new kink of his: asphyxiation.

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

for the most part, it depends on his mood and energy. if it was a stressful day, he expects you to let him wreck your body until it was spent and pliant beneath him. to properly get him off, he needed the most lewd sounds to come out of your mouth; the writhe in your body because he got a little carried away at first but you then slowly adjusted yourself to; the friction of the sheets burning at his knees; he needed you hard and your body was going to feel the consequences the next morning. and then there are days where bruce wants to take his time with you, worship your body with the hands you would always hold onto whenever you felt at unease; with the mouth you would always latch onto with your own whenever you needed to renew vitality; with his body you would always safeguarded yourself in no matter how you were feeling because you knew bruce never failed to protect you. his thrusts would slow, languid but never lazy as he liked keeping you on your toes and hitting you at the deepest spot with a sudden rut, and then measured again as he pulled himself out, watching his cock throb and watching your hole take all of his love in with no objection.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often)

quickies were never as satisfying as the time fully spent with you, but it got the job done. usually on days where he was the most stressed and needed to let something out, he'd call you over to the office for lunch and where you were expecting to eat your steamy leftovers with him, you ended up bent over his office desk, naked from the waist below, taking bruce's frustration up for the day. not that you were complaining, though. he always extended his lunch to properly eat with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment, do they take risks)

bruce is pretty content with his sex life with you. if you mentioned something about a new kink or wanting to experiment, he'd take up the entire night or two researching up about it, studying it methodically to ensure nothing wrong can happen and how to handle the situation if it does.

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

the man can go all night, have you seen his training regime? and the best part is? you let him have his way with you with multiple rounds despite usually being the one to cum first, and it would be a norm to have you coming again in the same night.

T = Toy (do they own toys? do they use them?)

he owns very little toys, no other reason being than bruce wanting you to rely on his dick for pleasure only. he wants you dependent on it, so there's a pretty big chance you might offend him if you suggest a phallic-type toy.

why the hell do you want a dragon dildo?! fifteen inches?!?! jesus christ—am i not big enough or something?!

what—no! didn't you say you liked seeing me struggle?! if anything, it's for YOUR own pleasure, bud. geez...

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

bruce loves teasing you. to be honest, who in the world doesn't love teasing their partner? it's adorable to see you try to squirm away from him when he's hugging you from behind while you're doing whatever and kissing the shell of your ear, then slipping his hand down your pants to feel how hard your dick had gotten from the most minuscule action. and fuck, when he throws in a little verbal play to remind you about how your dick is his and no one else's; you'd be thinking about it for the rest of the day, at least until bruce left for work and you were back onto his bed, sprawled out and whimpering as you spilled multiple loads over your tummy.

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

there's something extremely sexy in a way that bruce tries to contain his volume through gritted teeth. it was intimate the way lust unveiled himself. hushed groans in your ear, biting into your earlobe then neck to keep himself from moaning out loud, and fuck, he'd tremble from how much pleasure you were giving him. it would be reflected through his breaths, ruptured as he panted in your mouth during a kiss.

and you were so fucking proud when the moment he disposed a load inside of you, he couldn't help but gush out a deep, guttural moan from within, one that would shake you to your core, and possessed you to spill your own load simply from the sound of his relief.

W = Wild Card (get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

if bruce had all day with you, he'd want to spend it dry-humping you, specifically in suits. he saw it in a movie once, two men gyrating each other while one was on the other's lap, and it was even hotter than two nude men blowing each other off. and fuck, was he right. there was nothing more infuriating than seeking for pleasure that could be more gratifying. he'd angle his hips, you'd angle yours, and you two would rub, hump into each other's cocks, grind against one another with a steady rhythm while he stilled your head for an equally heavy make-out session. you'd beg for him to just take you right then and there, rip your clothes off and everything, but no. bruce doesn't and never does, and he persists, relieving your aching cock with his own until you two stain the inside of your dress pants, a deep and thick wet spot forming at the center of the trousers afterwards.

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on in those pants)

bruce would be above average, but definitely not hung like most people assume, and you liked that. it was perfectly fit for your body and most importantly, bruce knew how to utilize that thing. he dug deep, made sure you feel every inch, and fuck, his heavy balls holding his thick cum-loads were the cherry on top of your desires for him.

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

sex would be the first thing on his mind whenever bruce is stressed. maybe not so much when he's pummeling down criminals, but more so in his daily life where he's swamped in meetings and talking with shareholders. i mean, is it his fault that you looked so good frying up eggs this morning? you had absolutely no reason to, especially when sleep was still laced in your face.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

bruce has always been a nocturnal animal. even when you've fallen asleep first and nothing but the sounds around him were a droning brown noise specifically curated to lull him to sleep, he'd still remain awake for a while before falling asleep. there was too much on his mind, even if he had emptied it out inside of you. overwhelming thoughts came in as quick as they came out, and luckily, you were there to be the support he needed.

the soft snores of your slumber were evidence that you felt safe with him, a reminder that you were able to sleep like this because he did a fucking great job in keeping you away from danger, and he hoped it would remain that way as he snuggled into you, holding you close to his chest as if tomorrow could change the trajectory of fate.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. andif you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

[wayward-dreamer]

Ritual

Square/s filled: Marathon sex @spnkinkevents

Pairing: Jensen x F!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 885

Summary: Jensen and Y/N have a ritual that they always stick to whenever he comes back from a long filming schedule.

Warnings: Swearing, smut: dirty talk, implied oral sex (f receiving) unprotected sex (wrap it up people), rough sex, marathon sex, fluff.

A/N: trying to drabble my way out of a creative block. Happy reading! :)

Y/N really hated it whenever Jensen had to leave for a project. She always understood, and she never held him back because that’s not the person she was. She’d never stop him from doing what he loved most, but she could definitely lament about the fact that he was often gone for months at a time. They would see each other for a weekend every few weeks, whenever he was free or going to a Supernatural convention where she’d meet up with him if she could and wasn’t working herself. It was difficult but they made it work.

Plus their reward whenever he came home at the end of the whole project was the best part.

It didn’t matter how many times their phones rang, chimed with texts, whenever he returned neither of them came up for air until they were both satisfied.

Y/N had been out running errands while Jensen arrived home from his two-and-a-half month long shoot, where they had only seen each other on one weekend and spent a lot of nights having phone sex. As soon as she got his text, she rushed out of the store she was in after paying, and hurried back to the house, being careful on the roads despite her urgency. He had just stepped out of the shower when she dumped the bags by the door and jumped him, stripping him of his towel in one quick pull and pushing him down on their bed.

He turned and placed her on her back, drifting down between her legs as he pulled her flowy skirt off as he went down on his knees. It wasn’t long before his skilled tongue and fingers brought her first orgasm like waves over her body, her hands tight in his hair as his name fell from her lips in breathy moans. As he stood and flipped her over onto all fours, he stroked his shaft before he entered her in one quick shift of his hips, wasting no time in wanting to feel that euphoric bliss he only got with her.

Jensen’s thrusts were hard, long strokes into her clenching walls, his pelvis undulating against the curve of her ass as their pleasured sounds, words of endearing filth and the slapping of skin became the soundtrack to their vigorous love-making. The result of not having seen each other in so long. Her second release came just as quickly as the first, her fists pulling at the sheets underneath her convulsing frame as a shrieking moan escaped her. She felt her wetness flow over his cock, still hard inside her, but that wasn’t good enough for her. She needed to feel him let go; she needed to feel the warmth of his release.

Y/N hissed slightly as she shifted forward, feeling a delicious ache between her legs as he slipped out of her, turning around and placing her hands on his shoulders to push him down on his back before he could even question it. She straddled his hips, taking his length in her hand and pumping him a few times before she notched him to her waiting heat. A long, shuddering whimper left her as she slid down onto him, their eyes locked on each other as he groaned, the sound rumbling deep in his chest.

“Fuck,” he husked, staring up at her in awe. “This view never gets old, darlin’.”

She hummed as a smile spread across her face, her hands planted firmly on his chest to use as leverage as she began to move, rocking her hips back and forth. They moved rapidly, chasing not only another burst of ecstasy for herself, but for him too. She could feel how close he was, the tell-tale signs of his grip tightening on her hips and his neck straining, veins pressing against the skin as his gaze darkened while he looked up at her. It was her favorite view of him.

“You gonna cum again for me, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice rasping and deep. “You gonna cum hard, soak my cock, right?”

“Yeah,” she breathed, as she threw her head back, eyes squeezed shut. “Want-want you to c-cum too-”

“Oh, I’m right there with ya, darlin’,” he reassured her, his hips beginning to move up to meet her thrusts. “Gonna cum so hard in your tight, perfect little pussy…”

Y/N felt her core tightening with every sinful word from his plump lips, the dam breaking before she could properly anticipate it, falling over the edge once more as her arousal covered him. It didn’t take him long to go over after her, a drawn out “fuckkk” escaping him as he grunted, ropes of his cum mingling with her wetness as it coated her walls.

Jensen smirked as he closed his eyes, basking in the feeling that washed over him as she rolled off, settling in next to him. They breathed heavily as he opened them, his green orbs meeting hers as they smiled at each other.

“I’m gonna need a couple minutes,” he chuckled, before he carried on, shifting closer to her, his lips hovering over hers. “But there’s no way I’m done with you yet, darlin’.”

She giggled, pecking his lips once, twice. She loved this little ritual of theirs.

“I’m counting on it.”

[qwanderer]

You wanna get sad about Eliot Spencer? Consider the part in The Experimental Job where he’s being asked about the people he’s killed:

Eliot: What do you want to know? Names? Dates? Locations? (softly) You want to know what food was on their breath? Their eyes – what color their eyes were? You want to know the last words they spoke? You want to know which ones deserved it. Or, better yet, the ones that didn't? Do you want to know which ones begged? Do you know why I remember these things? Interrogator: I don't know. Eliot: You don't know? 'Cause I can't forget. So there's nothing you can do, no punishment you can hand out that's worse than what I live with every day. So, to answer your question, no. No, I haven't counted. I don't need to.

Then consider this exchange with Sophie from The Lonely Hearts Job:

Sophie: And you’re one to laugh. You don’t even bother to learn their names. They’re just waitress, nurse, stewardess. Eliot: First of all, it’s flight attendant, all right? They don’t like being called stewardess. And, second, I know their names.

Now consider this line a couple chapters back in my WIP that's been stuck in my head:

He knows from experience that a little of that will always stay with him, even if he leaves now and never sees her again. He'll always remember her face like this, and that radiant smile, too. He's good with faces, and sometimes he thinks he collects the faces that give him warm feelings to help counterbalance the other ones.

Writing that line made me realize the exchange in The Lonely Hearts Job can almost be read as a callback to The Experimental Job and I am having feelings about it.

(Thanks to When Darkness Falls for transcripts and the folks on Sunday Leverage Marathon Discord for reminding me which episode the second excerpt is from)

[galaxysgal]

hii can i get #19 frozen feet for the winter sleepover pretty please!

frozen feet || lip gallagher

pairing: lip x fem!reader

warnings: none!! just fluff and like,, not even nudity just like diet nakedness. smoked a bowl and wrote this.

a/n: hii you didn't include a character with this buttt i already had an idea for this so i wrote it w lip !! feel free to request again if you had a diff character in mind <33 hope you enjoy this just as much as i did !!

you'd spent the night at the gallagher house, smoking and talking with lip, ian and mandy until the four of you were too high to function and too tired to pay attention to whatever shitty reality marathon was playing on TLC. you headed upstairs after midnight, stripping down to the pretty white lace set lip had stolen from the mall just for you. the thick comforter and the heat of lip's body kept you warm through the night.

and then it snowed.

in the morning, everyone was gone. it was one of those days you considered too cold to go to school, and lip agreed. fiona tried her best to get the both of you up and out of the house but lip refused, rough palms seeking out your warmth after turning over in the night.

"'m stayin' home, fi. 's too cold."

she rolled her eyes, stomping back down the stairs and coralling everyone out of the house before leaving for work. and then it was quiet.

lip's hand settled between your thighs, his fingers ice cold. "baby," you whined. he pressed his nose to the back of your neck, breathing in the sweet remnants of your shampoo, your perfume, every gentle scent of you.

his sleep-addled voice slurred his words, "y'so warm, sweets. can' help it."

you let him stay like that for a bit, his fingers intertwined with yours, resting on the pillow just above your head. you rubbed a thumb over the back of his hand, leveraging it to pull him closer. he hummed a merry tune as his lips trailed across your neck, your shoulder, your back.

"liiippp," you whined.

"yeah baby? hm? you wanna-" he grunted as you gently shoved him off of you.

"give it a fuckin' minute lip, you goof!" you giggled, grabbing your cardigan off the bedpost and moving towards the ladder. "i gotta piss." you left lip groaned as you made your way to the bathroom, your ass just barely covered by the green knit fabric.

by the time you were done lip had moved downstairs. you found him on the couch, wearing a crewneck and boxers. a lit cigarette already hung from his lips, and he smiled at you.

"y'look like an angel," he tells you, smoke gathering around his head and casting him in hazy light. your cardigan falls just below your panties, showing off the expanse of your legs. "spin f'me?"

you giggled and turned in a slow circle, pushing your ass out. lip whistled, in awe of you. once you were facing him again you stepped forward, resting one leg on either side of his hips. "'m feet are cold," you murmur.

when lip laughed his chest shook and you couldn't help but laugh along. his arm reached out for the blanket and pulled it over the both of you, hands settling on your hips as you nestle into him.

end.

my masterlist. my winter sleepover.

[alwaysaslutforfic]

Daichi Headcanons ❤️ - NSFW

Here he is! The man the myth the legend 🥰

Written in his memory 😔 RIP Daichi

Warnings: mentions of daddy kink, choking, and various position but nothing super explicit

Minors are not allowed to interact and stay out of the cut! Minors DNI!!

I murdered my beta’s like Tanaka murdered Daichi

Check out my headcanons for Tsukki and Kyoutani

Sexy driver pt2. One hand on the wheel, the other holding yours. Just watching his arms flex as he changes gears is enough to have you flustered. Always opens your door for you and helps you get in. Let’s you pick the music and pulls over if you want takeout

Concedes the aux cord but has pretty good taste in music. Prefers more mellow sounds. Indie, jazz, soft rock. He takes you to local shows as dates and will either watch you dance, or hold you close to slow jams. FestivalDaichi! is a new man. Get him drunk and he gets handsy. (Drunk kisses 🤤)

Just loves to spend time with you. The best day out partner. Breakfast at a cafe in the morning, holds your bags and your hand. He doesn't complain if you wanna try on clothes or shoes or browse games, he’s just genuinely happy to be there

A handyman. Owns a tool belt that you bought him and looks damn good in it too. Puts up shelves, fixes sinks, cleans gutters, mows lawns. And if it’s summer, then you have a shirtless handyman to boot. (Note to self: handman Daichi 😌)

Speaking of shirtless Daichi, because of his rota at the firestation (hashtag: FiremanDaichiForLife) he prefers to workout at home. He works out in the garden when it’s warm, and in the living room when it’s cooler. Either way, you have a free show at least twice a week. He will let you sit on his back while he does push ups, or hold you while he squats

Will indulge all your couple tiktok challenges with a sheepish grin, and fondness in your eyes. The comments are full of ‘get you a man who looks at you like that’

This man is romantic. I’m talking candlelit dinner, flowers for no reason, surprise lunch at your workplace. He’s just a modern, old-fashioned man who treats you like a treasure

The king of soft intimacy. Cooking together. Baths together. Wine and candles in your living room. Cuddles, cuddles, cuddles. Play with his hair and you risk just putting him straight to sleep, but who can resist the world’s best weighted blanket.

Daichi is forever your personal cheerleader. He supports all your choices, dreams, and goals. He’ll give you advice, or talk through anything you’re hesitant on. Even if they’re whimsical. You wanna start dance classes. He’ll go to any recital. You decide to switch to marathon running, he’ll be there with a sign and a gallon of water. Cosplay, chocolate making, fanfiction 😉. He doesn’t care, as long as you’re happy

Call. Him. Daddy. And let him fuck you into the mattress or kitchen table, or sofa, or floor as a result

I touched on this briefly once, but choke him. You are Not in charge, but he just loves the feeling of your hand on his throat. The flutter of your fingers as he makes you cum

An ass man through and through. At this point his fingerprints are embedded in your ass cheeks from the way he grips them. Doggy; he’s spanking you. Missionary; he’s using your ass as leverage. Riding him; better believe he’s squeezing it as he makes you bounce harder.

Speaking of handy men, he has big hands and puts them to good use. Sits you on his lap and fingers you until he thinks you’re ready

Thick thighs save lives, and Daichi wants you to ride his. He’ll lick your nipples while you do, and basks in the mess you make on his thighs as a result (clearly my thoughts revolve around sitting in his lap and having a great time)

Without fail, will pull them panties to the side. Even on days when you have time to get naked. Loves the way you look in lingerie and loves the way you soak the fabric when he makes you cum

Daichi just make brain go brrr. Nothing but respect for my husband captain

[renew-leverage]

LEVERAGE REWATCH MARATHON Streaming today: The First Contact Job

It’s Sunday, Leverage Marathon folks, time for another episode!  This week we’re watching the 3rd episode of season 5, The First Contact Job, in which Parker and Hardison are Men In Black, Eliot never knows when he might have to find an alien, and Sophie gets abducted.  Watch the episode with us on our Sunday Leverage Marathon discord server and post all about your feelings, thoughts, comments, anything & everything.

Come on in, say hi to your fellow fans, get comfortable.  We’ll be starting in about half an hour at roughly 3:30 PM Eastern U.S. Time.

[afreakingdork]

Weak Spot - Chapter 67

RotTMNT Donatello x Reader

Hold your belongings close and this week’s chapter art by @aimike17 closer!

Warnings: Aged-up Turtles, Romance, Meet Cute, Villain Donatello, Cussing, Crushes, Xenophobia, Fear, Intimidation, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Hurt/Comfort, Love, AFAB Reader, Vaginal Sex, Sex Rough, Sex, Penis In Vagina Sex, Creampie, Teasing, Scent Kink, Sexual Tension, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Cunnilingus, Fellatio, Marathon Sex, Somnophilia, Bondage, Feral Behavior, Feral Donatello, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Public Sex, Dom Donnie, Human/Turtle Relationships, Turtle Noises, Roleplay, Sexual Roleplay

Synopsis:  A love story of villainous proportions! Though it hadn’t come easily, as these things rarely do, you found yourself in a whirlwind romance with a handsome and mysterious mutant. His idiosyncrasies had been easy to ignore as attraction grew into something more. However, will love endure when the unknowns about him end up being far darker than you ever considered?

This may seem like a rehash of last week''s, but @tmntxthings seriously came in CLUTCH for these last few chapters. I had a lot of details that weren't ironed out for whatever reason and she helped me put them in real order! We wouldn't have Weak Spot as we know it without her!!!!

Also available on Ao3

First 💜 Previous

Things were pleasantly stabilizing. For once in what felt like years you had time to breathe. Not always a bad thing as Donnie had a penchant for taking your breath away, it was instead a slowdown from the nonstop repetitiveness of undertakings occuring. They were always begging for your utmost attention and just having a few months of normality in comparison felt like a vacation all its own.

You were healthy.

Donnie was healthy.

Your friends.

Your family.

The storm had passed and with a righted ship, you applied yourself at your job. Finally able to look at long term goals, you plotted out that you could be moved back into your position by performance reviews next year. A long goal, but not a lofty one, you had heard murmurs of how they hadn’t hired anyone for your old position. You kept yourself humble, but you had a feeling that maybe you’d be asked back sooner.

First, however, you were going to obliterate the simpler desk job they passed off to you and leverage that for a fatter raise if that were the case.

If not, you could catch up on the backlog of filing and then ride out the cushy position.

It was a win-win.

Optimism.

Not something you thought too much on, you felt it creeping up on you. You kept your back to it just in case, but it acted as a lounge chair. You could recline in happy thoughts for once and Donnie appeared to be doing the same. You both kept busy both separate and together which made the overall mood a light one. With summer having scorched the earth, you had a second yielding of crops from your rooftop garden. Besides the comfortable labor done up there of tending to it, Donnie had procured that tree you wanted and you found yourselves relaxing in the space for the sake of it. You’d drink in sunsets and sneak glances at each other as the city hummed around you.

You had a good work day, a catered lunch with coworkers, and an uneventful ride home to your apartment. Donnie was on the schedule for dinner tonight and the dish he was making was one you’d had many times before. A delicious staple, it was to be yet another normal evening as you stepped through your threshold. Your boyfriend wasn’t at his desk which didn’t pique any necessary worries as meal prep always took him in roundabout ways depending on his mood. You took care in putting your things up and went to get something to drink.

You were sipping on a beverage and gazing out the kitchen window at two lovers schmoozing on the street below when the door opened.

Donnie appeared with a grocery bag cradled to his chest and his carapace to you.

“Hey, Sweet. Beat you.” You tipped your glass to him.

He barely nodded.

Distraction not a foreign thing when he had recipe steps filtering through his mind, you moved out of the kitchen to give him space.

He made it exactly halfway there before you heard a comical rip.

Something that could double as movie foley, you saw Donnie hunch where groceries then spilled out around him before he could react.

Round objects rolled to settle and there was a glug of something leaking.

Donnie didn’t move.

He was frozen in place.

You set your drink down and properly took him in.

Not lengthy exhaustion, but tight lines of today’s anxiety creased his face. There was then a smudge on his cheek that was barely perceptible and not something you could identify. From there you realized that the way he clutched the grocery bag was because one of the straps was already torn. A thin and separate rip then took the bottom, though there was an odd gouge where it started. The spill poured from there, but a different sort of streak of what looked like dust streaked his pants.

All that information taken in only a few seconds, you pivoted and headed toward the kitchen. You gathered a towel that was disposable and a roll of paper towels. You were at Donnie’s side in an instant cleaning up the mess as he stood a statue over you.

Saving grocery goods that hadn’t been destroyed in the wreckage, you saw the brand.

It was to that grocery store you tried to conquer once every few months. Always an ordeal, it had been agreed upon that Donnie wasn’t to attend. This was your venture and you were fine with that. Which meant him having gone made little sense. You yourself had been not that long ago and there were still items from the store dotting the freezer. Your dinner was a common one so there shouldn’t have been any reason for him to go out of his way.

A rag was soaking up lost juice and you looked up at him with a box in hand. “Why did you go here?”

His lips parted, but nothing came.

You softened at his struggle and moved to finish cleaning up. You then took several trips bringing everything salvable to the kitchen before you attended to the rock solid form of your mate. He watched you with his eyes, but his posture hadn’t unfurled in the slightest. Taking great care not to touch him, you instead slid through the remains of the bag and coaxed him with tiny pulls to release.

He did so with peeling back fingers and a grip like one reserved for roller coaster safety bars.

“I’m gonna toss this.” You told him and examined the bag on the way to the trash. The spindly fibers on the handle said it had broken with use. It made sense as weight mattered little to Donnie so you imagined the bag had mistakenly been taxed. From there, you couldn’t parse out the tear to the bottom. There was an outward puncture as if it had been stabbed through, but the groceries you gathered didn’t have damage that matched.

Dumping the thing, you turned to find Donnie had cracked his façade and was looking down at his legs. It took you no time to spy a dark splatter on his pants from where the juice had exploded upon ground contact.

“Why don’t you wash up and change?”

It was as if he needed to hear the offer to do more and gave a solemn nod.

You watched him disappear around the partition and looked after him with metered affection. Though the circumstances were bad, you loved this side of him just as much. No matter how put together he tried to make himself, he still got as hung up as anyone else. You didn’t need him humanized in your eyes, but knowing that you were one of the few who got to see it warmed your heart.

Doing a last pass to make sure everything was cleaned from the spill, you set to work throwing something in the oven. Taking out a freezer backup meal, you were re-reading the instructions while the oven warmed when Donnie emerged in another full blown outfit. One you liked on him, it chiseled his usual carved form and he came over with intent oozing off of him.

“Did you want to go out? I can turn the oven off.” You made a show of the box you had yet to open.

He took it in with a furl of his brow and nothing more.

“Donnie?” You tilted your head to catch his eye. “You okay?”

He said nothing, but his features further creased until he was outright scowling.

“Is it this?” You showed him the meal again. “There’s also a pasta. You liked it last time, we can do that instead?”

“Pasta.” He spoke the word as if possessed.

It didn’t read as a confirmation to you and instead almost like a mime. “Don, I’m starting to worry.”

That seemed to penetrate him and he looked at you with renewed intent. “Restaurant?”

“We can.” You moved to shut the oven off.

The moment your back turned, you heard him give a testy sort of grunt.

It slowed your finger near the off button. “Or… not?”

Silence again reigned so you turned to view him.

It took several long moments, but you thought you got a read off him.

It almost looked like he was paralyzed by choice.

He needed you to be clear and concise so you gave him a reassuring smile. “Let’s order out, get something nice.”

He stalled in a nod, but eventually his head bowed, deferring to your decision.

You remembered he’d mentioned a new Italian place earlier that week so you recommended it.

Again, he agreed with a shaky bob of his head.

You moved close, but gave him a berth as you brought up your phone. Finding the location and flipping through the menu a few times, he eventually named a dish for himself and you selected your own. Throwing in an appetizer for good measure and a dessert that sounded like something he liked, you pressed send. The page turned over for a confirmation and you moved wordlessly to put the freezer meal away. 

You passed him toward the living room to get your drink.

He needed space to process.

Plopping down and getting comfortable, you sipped from your glass.

You watched your partner move through motions without movement.

He seemed to scold himself.

There was a pause as if he found fault.

He then forgave his person with a heave of the sigh.

Something difficult, it pummeled his strength and he moved to hold the counter.

It was his version of a breather, but whatever the conundrum was, wasn’t solved.

He was trapped with it and sent that distress to you.

You made an obvious show of setting your glass down to telegraph he had you in any form he needed.

It came with his shuffling feet where his knees bumped the far couch arm.

You watched as he tipped like a plank of wood until he collapsed, face first, into the center cushion. 

Behind him, his legs extended straight into the air.

You chewed on a laugh.

He laid in that position for a little too long.

You moved, first unsure, then careful to graze the back of his head.

The touch was a question.

He answered it with a heaved sigh and a turn of his cheek.

You weren’t sure what that meant, but you could now see that smudge better. You still didn’t know what it was, but you stood. A few steps to the bedroom and back got you a tissue and you knelt down in front of him. He watched you with a beaten down expression and you took great care in wiping his cheek clean.

“Thank you.” He mumbled earnestly.

You nodded and chanced the faintest peck to his brow. “Whatever you need.”

For a split second, all the strain washed off him.

What looked at you was your loving mate.

Then misery returned to him and he soured with a pucker.

It shallowed your heart and you sent that concern to him. “What is it, Don?”

He shook his head before rolling all the way over and buried himself into the back of the couch. It pulled his legs off from their perch on the arm and he curled them up to his body in almost a fetal position. You watched on with a hopeless feeling and caught how he’d left your seat open. Giving your own exhale before standing, you sat there and wondered what the next best step was.

The wait for food to arrive was always so annoying.

You ordered and were forced to wait just long enough that having a snack was debatable, but discouraged.

Wondering if maybe hunger was getting Donnie down in some form, you felt a bump to your thigh.

Blinking once outward then twice at your leg, you found that said man in question had squirreled his way up the few inches that separated you so the top of his head could just graze your leg.

You watched him with metered interest.

With a shimmy of his shoulders, he repeated the move, but jostled you without any strength.

You weren’t exactly sure, but you adjusted your recline so your lap was open.

He tilted his head just long enough to spy on you.

You were waiting there with a quirked brow.

He hid away in what seemed like irritation in having been caught.

“You can always ask if you’re not sure…” You told the air and patted your legs in offer.

You counted exactly five seconds before he kicked off the far armrest so his body would lift. His head landed on your lap and when you tried to look down at him, he buried his beak into your stomach.

“Silly cutie.” You told him.

He grunted against you with a warmth spreading through your top.

He wiggled, obviously breathing you in.

You chanced setting a hand on his arm.

His body curled, trying to get closer where the couch was in the way.

It reminded you of how he wrapped his body around you when he was in the midst of his heat.

In a slow stroke, you pet his arm. “Did you have a bad day?”

It took some processing time, but he nodded against you.

“Sucks.” You commiserated. “I know those and I’m here for you.”

He spoke something, but you couldn’t hear it.

“Hm?” You continued to pet his arm.

He said nothing more and grew slack against you.

Picking a piece of lint from him, you rubbed his limb then this head. It took a long while, but eventually he gave into the barest churr which you took as a good sign. There was a beep from the computer and you looked over to see the feed of a delivery person. “I’m gonna get the food.”

Donnie gave a little annoyed chuff and curled down into himself.

It freed you up and you bent to kiss his head before going to get the door. An easy transaction, you gathered bags and moved to the kitchen. Donnie stayed put and you gathered up his meal with his preferred utensils. Moving to bring his over first, you set up his container in a restaurant-style presentation before returning to the kitchen to grab yours. Upon returning, he had unfurled and was looking at his meal with a tired eye.

You sat beside him and were careful not to jostle his being.

He rubbed an eye and took a fork around the time you got the remote. “Want to watch something?”

“That one show.”

You hadn’t been prepared for a response and your head snapped to him.

“The hospital one.”

You knew it because he’d mentioned he liked their accurate take.

It was also an albeit silly one.

Tempering your surprise that he’d picked at all, you pulled it up. “Which episode?”

“Dumb luck one.”

Your eyes shot wide and you fought every single instinct not to send awe at your partner.

You flipped screens knowing which episode he was talking about and it also happened to be the one he’d praised the show on. It all felt so surreal, but the moment it started, you saw Donnie move to eat. After he’d successfully chewed his first bite, you watched the monotony of consumption hit him and it allowed his brain to give way to simpler stimulation.

You eventually ate yourself and watched as the episode rolled into another. It was nearing the fourth one when Donnie made a little noise. It had an attentive quality, as if something occurred to him, and you moved to check in. You found his gaze clear, but the weight of his worries had dropped upon him anew. Brows pinched tight enough to seal a leak, it trapped the concerns of his brilliant mind.

You set your container down where it had been laying empty in your lap and crossed the space to sit directly beside him.

He promptly got up and moved one sofa square further from you.

His rebuff struck you like a blow. 

You hadn’t bothered him, but he ran from you.

You shirked away and gathered the discarded take-out. Putting things away in the kitchen, you tossed trash, set a few things to soak, and did it all with a broken heart. You argued with it, hoping to push it away and make sense of what was bothering him. It seemed to twirl down a drain and you eventually relented to wash up. Changing into pajamas, you exited the restroom to find Donnie’s head still sat, unmoved, from where he was still sat on the couch.

He’d stay there.

You weren’t mad.

You weren’t even necessarily hurt. 

It did sting through. 

You were slow to part the curtains of the canopy. You looked up at them and thought about their origin. You’d recommended them after a bad day of your own. Donnie had worked so hard then and you twisted a hand in the fabric. A soft material, it gave easily and you wondered what you were missing. From the gentle action to asking, it seemed you’d rounded all the bases except space. A frustrating one, he had illustrated the concept literally and you supposed he did so because he couldn’t elaborate.

Clutching onto that hope, you released the canopy. This was meant to be his safe haven so you turned to look out at him. “Hey, Don?”

His head tipped upward as if he had awoken.

“Let’s switch. You take the bed and I’ll sit on the couch?” You stepped away with the offer.

Donnie dipped to gather force and then stood. Standing statuesque for a moment, he then turned mechanically. Step by step, he walked out from the couch until he lifted his eyes from the floor and glimpsed you. “You changed.”

“Huh?” You looked down at yourself and then to him. “Oh yeah, you’re still dressed.”

He reached you with his worries percolating, but they now seemed centered on your pajamas.

You tipped your body to catch his eye.

He gave it with lined concern.

“Did we need to go somewhere?”

“No.”

A frown tried to manifest on your lips, but you forced it into a thin line. “Here.” You gestured to the bed. “Get some rest, okay? Love you.”

You didn’t wait and moved around him.

You felt him track you with a full rotation of his body.

His gaze felt burrowing as you sat on the couch and ducked out of sight just to shake it off.

Everything was fine.

Your peace was intact.

Donnie had a bad day.

How many of those had he had?

Not many that weren’t equally shared by you.

This was uncharted territory.

He needed space.

He’d passed along as much.

You took a deep breath and let it out slowly.

It was okay.

You felt assured as you groped for the remote.

It was down by your feet and you had to reach for it.

When you laid back out, Donnie was standing an ominous shadow above you.

A small yelp escaped your throat. “What are you doing!?”

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You held a hand to your heart where it was racing.

He stared down.

“Donnie, please. I don’t know what you want.” You sat up and nearly immediately he took a seat in the space you left. “O… kay…?”

His posture was terrible, he was a curved ‘C,’ and his hands twiddled thumbs in his lap.

You guessed you had been wrong about the bed.

You moved to stand.

Donnie snatched your wrist.

You stared at him.

His eyes warped, pleading.

“Don…”

“Y/N…”

“Yes?” You begged him.

Distress bled from his lips.

You tugged lightly on your hand.

His grip tightened.

“Donatello. I don’t know. I can’t know unless you share. Please. I want to help.”

“You can’t.”

It felt like another lash to your chest.

“I am the failure here.”

You jarred.

“It is my own to bear.”

“What are you talking about?” You moved to face him.

His grip on your wrist changed to a loose cuff. “Restaurant.”

“Huh?”

“To cliché. Too obvious. Already done to capacity.”

“Don…”

“The venue?” He glanced away, seeing plans you couldn’t. “Outdoor, romantic? Assuredly, but taken. I’ve plotted our Valentine’s seven years in advance.”

It was such an oddly specific number you wanted to ask about.

“Indoor, the same. Stunning architecture? A backdrop. A fountain? Does that compare our love to water? My cup runneth over. Of course it does!”

Your fingers curled in his.

He didn’t seem to notice. “That brought comparisons, metaphors, places we’ve been before. Retreads, deeper meanings, foils! The sandwich shop where we met! The outside of your work building! That courtyard where you revealed your sorrows! Rooftops! Alleyways!! Food!! Beverage!!! Grocery store!!!”

He was becoming more manic by the second.

“Not center stage!!! Something small!! Something meaningful!!! The options!!! So many fucking options!!!”

You were in motion and you broke free of him.

He did nothing to hold you back.

You caught his face.

“The guilt has been eating me alive!”

You inhaled sharply as you got an up close look at his glassy gaze.

“Nothing is worthy of you. Nothing is good enough. I am at my end. It has to be good enough. I have to be good enough.”

“Donnie, please. You are-”

“A meal! I thought! I’d already considered it and a million others, but I could create a dish that rolls all meaning into one. I’d make a standard, one we both enjoyed. It would represent our connection, the banality of it all. How in that we matter so much more! A centerpiece dotting an average night turning it into an unforgettable one!!”

You loosened your grip and he pressed his cheek against one of your palms.

“If ever there was a folly, I encountered it today.”

You tucked your fingers under his chin and scratched his favorite spot.

He didn’t have it in him to churr. “I fell back asleep after you left this morning. I need strength for today’s mission so I rooted into your pillow. I do adore your scent.”

Your face warmed.

“Lulled, I woke later than my preparation required so I rushed. Changed, the outfit I meant was to be picked up so I was forced into another. I took the stairs instead of the elevator, a rush, quicker. Outside and to the store before I realized I’d forgotten totes and, more importantly, my wallet.”

You nodded, attentive.

“I returned, gathered those only to be stopped by movers on the floor below. They’d wedged a dresser in the stairwell so I meant to pick it up and move it for time’s sake. It was repulsively dirty.”

That explained the dust.

“They thanked me and initiated touch which…” Donnie shuddered. “I weathered and made it to the store only for a key ingredient to be sold out! I moved to another store and found the same! I hacked the inventory systems to find the buyer was a rogue food truck owner who did not receive their order. They decided to instead rob the everyday consumer by buying up all surrounding stock!”

You leaned into him.

He accepted you with a moment of closed eyes as his forehead bumped yours. “That left me without options as time was ceaselessly ticking so I opted for a last minute adjustment. Another of our favorite meals with exclusive ingredients from that store you like.”

You nuzzled him.

He gave a few second rumble in his throat. “It remains a nightmare. The people. The staff! So loud! So synthetic!”

“Foods worth it.”

“It was meant to be! I gathered what I needed and made it to the curb where the car was parked when it was struck.”

You jolted away to stare down at him.

He looked at you with severity. “The hazards were on. Every precaution was taken. My system may be able to protect itself, but others always have a portion of incalculable unknowns.”   

“You were in a car wreck!?”

“I had yet to enter the vehicle. I was leaned forward to set the filled bags in the seat when it was rear ended. I watched as everything I had purchased be crushed in an instant.”

“Donnie!”

“I was uninjured, but there came police and insurance reports, and endless, endless, conversation!”

“Was the other person-!?”

“Fine! They were fine! The cars were both totaled. It’s fine.It was time for an upgrade, but the hemorrhaging of time!!”

You wilted.

“I returned inside, I bought the scant ingredients as the damn store was being picked clean, but I did what had to be done. My last chance for scraping together the evening. I got my bags. I moved to exit.”

He was building and your face expressed your woe.

“A child knocked over an enormous vase housing a floral display in the entrance and I was skewered.”

“You said you weren't injured!?”

“I wasn’t!” Donnie’s teeth appeared in a curl. “I dodged and thought I compensated for the bag’s swing!”

“But!?”

“But.” He repeated harshly. “I also dove to save the boy from the shattering glass. In the process, the bag was punctured.”

“The bag.”

“Not the boy.” Donnie scoffed at the clarification. “The child saw the piece and thought it helpful to rip the chunk out!”

You gave what was almost a laugh.

“I saved his hand and berated him in not only glass safety protocol but that leaving a weapon in a stab wound is proper procedure.”

“You told a kid what!?”

“Trust.” His gaze was flat with the pained memory. “His mother had quite a bit to say about that. Please.” 

You almost felt dizzy. “Okay… All this… takes up more time...”

“The bag was in disarray, but the food was untouched, so I only needed to support the bottom and ride… public transit.” Donnie sneered.

“Don…” You shrank with sympathy.

He pulled you into his arms and spoke softly to your ear.

“Dreadful. The sights. The smells. The horror.” He tucked his beak against you. “I made it. You arrived home before me. How could I prepare? I had all, but given up. Then… I saw you.”

You leaned against him.

“A vision. All my worries vanished. You, a stunning placement, bathed in window light. Your glass glittering as you sipped. Your mood jovial. I thought anew. We would cook together. Show our bond. More of our domesticity.”

“The bag…”

“The bag had presumably worn the weight no matter what my hold and had other ideas.”

“You froze.”

“It felt as though my entire plot collapsed as well. Before I could do a single moment of damage control, you were taking charge. From cleaning, to the meal, what was left?”

“Anything…? You wanted to highlight how well we work together.”

“I had been absent! For all of it! Spiraling from plans left unlaid!”

“So…? We fix it?”

“I needed you to fix it! I need to explain! That wasn’t the plan! It was too far gone! I’d been silent too long! It was an illustration, but also a surprise!”

You weren’t sure what to say.

“Then in my wretched attitude, I rebuked you?! Idiot! I was dwelling on when to reschedule. The moment I moved away from your worry was the moment I realized my grave mistake! I hurt your feelings which meant I would have to wait until they were repaired before even chancing a thing.”

“What…? What is all of this? I keep thinking you’ll say it, but you’re just alluding to something I don’t know about.”

“You!” He spoke as if that was the answer.

You stared back with sadness tinting you.

“You…” He cupped your hand to his cheek. “Our love.”

You shook your head, not understanding.

“I can’t do it like this. Please… If you can continue to wait?”

“Donnie.” You sighed. “You know I’ll wait for you. You know I’ll always wait for whatever you need. You aren’t getting rid of me, but all this sounds ridiculous. I don’t know what you’re trying to plan or why it has to all be good for something to happen. Bad things happen. I think every bad thing that could happen, has happened to us. It matters, but it also doesn’t! We have each other and that’s what’s important. Like you said: our day to day, the fact that we can, will, are, whatever, going to do this for the rest of our lives is proof. All the stupid weeknight dinners. Watching whatever shows. Cleaning. Cooking. Maintaining a house. Taking care of us and anyone else.”

A little color marked his cheeks.

You kissed each of them, one at a time. “You’re right. That’s what’s important. It’s how we interact. How we’re codependent or whatever! We’re us forever and always and we like it. We’re not all these crazy things. We’re this and if we can do this? We can do anything.”

You watched all concern wash away from your partner.

He moved, carefully, to take you close.

He kissed you with a shallow press that said he needed to do more.

Allowing him that, he stood and ushered you onto the couch.

Taking the middle seat, you watched as he looked only once at the coffee table.

It was clean from where you’d removed the remnants of dinner and he caught one end to lift it.

As if it were paper, he sat it on its side and it stood a tall wooden obelisk.

He gave it a little rock to test how sturdy it was.

Satisfied it wouldn’t fall, he released it and addressed you.

His hand disappeared into his pocket.

He removed it with something concealed.

He dropped down onto one knee.

Everything hit you with a flood that watered your eyes.

“Y/N L/N…”

Your hands flew up to cover your mouth.

He looked at you through his lids and his own outpouring of adoration. “I should scold you for stealing my moment, but you have also assured me that I will have nothing but opportunity for another.”

You shook your head and a few tears loosed.

“I should have known.”

He smiled fondly.

“The best way to do this was whenever felt right.”

His hand came up.

“No planning, just as you appeared without any.”

One palm offered, he unfurled his fingers to reveal the jewelry box.

“My heart.”

His other hand opened it up to reveal a clean band that seemed to radiate some kind of aura.

“My love.”

He offered it up to you and all of him read submissive.

“My life. I offer it all. Will you please marry me?”

You nodded too furiously. “Yes!!!”

Tears darted the air as you shot forward the moment he tried to grab the ring.

The box clicked shut and you tackled him.

To the ground where you both laughed and tears flowed.

“How long have you been worrying about this?!” You croaked against him.

He wrapped his arms around you. “Months. You caught me planning multiple times, but never noticed!”

“Evil!”

He laughed brightly and wrung you side to side.

It bumped a table leg and you both froze as the coffee table wobbled.

Donnie rolled over top of you so he’d take the brunt of the damage. 

The table only fell like a bridge. 

It landed on all its feet and hovered inches above your fiancé. 

Locked safely beneath it, you sent all your affections before you kissed him.

Having weaseled his arm into position, he slipped the ring on your finger and you felt it warm your digit.

💜NEXT💜

I don't know the exact date, but we are hard coming up on a year that @tmntxthings and @thepinkpanther83 have been my betas! I have and endless sea of gratitude for them both! They are integral to my writing at this point!

[captainsophiestark]

Klaus Mikaelson Masterlist

TVD/TO Masterlist

Main Masterlist

X - x reader F - Female Reader (otherwise it’s gender neutral) ☀️ - Fluff    ✨ - Humor ☁️ - Angst  💋 - Flirting ⭐️ - Author Faves

Newest fics will be at the bottom

Fairy Lights - F!X ☁️☀️

Reader is dating Niklaus Mikaelson, and she’s had a terrible day. Being tortured and used as leverage by a psycho witch is never fun, but it’s a little easier to deal with when you have the love of your life by your side.

Mental Block - X 💋

Y/N is a SHIELD agent with inhuman mental powers, in New Orleans for a well-earned vacation after managing to survive all their training. A nice day in the city turns into an adventure when a strange man with a British accent crashes their vacation.

New Orleans - X ☁️☀️

Y/N and Klaus have been dating for a little while, and they’ve been best friends even longer. They’ve finally weathered most of the storm Mystic Falls has to offer, and Y/N has started their first semester at the University of Virginia. Just when everything’s going perfectly, the Mikaelsons have decided to move to New Orleans, and it might spell the end for Y/N and Klaus.

Immortality - X ☁️☀️

Nik and Y/N have been dating for many years, despite Y/N being human. Despite being in love with the Immortal Hybrid, Y/N never wanted the vampire life. Unfortunately, when one of the many enemies of the Mikaelsons steps in, they might not have a choice anymore.

Nosferatu - X ☁️☀️

Klaus and Y/N have been dating for a long time, and Y/N has more or less gotten used to dealing with all the Mikaelson drama. Still, that doesn’t mean they don’t need a break from time to time. Nik *promised* Y/N they could have a good old fashioned movie marathon as a break from everything they’d been through lately, but when he tries to go back on his promise, Y/N shows him what’s up.

Fatherhood - F!X ☁️☀️

Y/N and Nik have been dating since the Mikaelsons moved to New Orleans and Y/N got turned into a vampire. When Nik starts to feel worried about his ability to parent Hope, who’s due to join the world soon, Y/N helps reassure him.

The Curse of the Sun and the Moon - X ☀️✨⭐️

Klaus' SO is writing their doctoral dissertation on cross-culture myths. Much to their irritation, Klaus knows a thing or two about those.

The 60s - X ☁️☀️

Klaus wiped the memory of the love of his life after hundreds of years together to try to protect them from Mikael. Now, however, his ex has their memories back is going to find their boyfriend. Even if he is in someone else's body.

Witches Get Stitches - F!X ☁️☀️

Klaus and his girlfriend have been together since they were humans, surviving together for a thousand years. They don't intend to let anything tear them apart.

Like Home - X ☁️☀️⭐️

When a serious magical threat comes to Mystic Falls and puts Josie and Lizzie at risk, Caroline and Ric send Klaus' ex down to New Orleans to seek safe harbor for the girls with him. Or, what if Y/N went to New Orleans instead of Caroline, and Klaus was free to see them.

[libraford]

This is inspired by running a half marathon last weekend, but I googled and it seems plausible: FinisherPix is a photography contracter, basically, that takes pictures of endurance races. Based on my experience getting pics from them and the examples you've shared of your work, you're better-than-average for them, so it might be an avenue for you to leverage your action photography skillset without having to do the un-fun bits.

Cons: veeeery freelance. Seems like they have a database of photographers, you show up, you go home. Still, it seems simple to sign up to be in said database? 🤷‍♀️ passing along in case it's useful, feel free to ignore if it isn't

That's how a lot of photography jobs are now. It's a job in the arts, arts jobs are usually very gig. The fact that I was able to find a seasonal job is kind of amazing, tbh.

But I'll check them out! I got real good at doing track photos this year.

[evilscuderia]

I’ve never been Sainz fan. He is decent driver but petty, egoistic little man. He outshined Charles a few times, but F1 season is a marathon not a sprint. One win won’t do. And people talking about Ferrari abandoning him are delusional. He’s been flirting with Audi behind Ferrari’s back threatening that he won’t renew his contract with SF. What were they supposed to do? Beg him? Who does he think he is? Verstappen?

sorry but the contract thing will forever be hilarious to me. the fact that sainz's people were pushing for a multi-year using the audi thing as leverage and ferrari saw right through it and said aight. we're taking back the 1+1 offer as well and we're calling lewis hamilton actually. truly one of my favourite scunteria moments in history

[sunshinesmebdy]

Harness the Capricorn Powerhouse: Mercury and Mars Tips for Business and Finance Domination

Gearing Up for Greatness: Mars in Capricorn

From January 4th to February 13th, Mars, the Roman God of War himself, ignites his fiery furnace in Capricorn. When fiery Mars visits this ambitious earth sign, it’s like pouring rocket fuel onto a mountain fire — its drive to conquer multiplies, blazing a trail of achievement. Expect laser focus, tireless work ethic, and a steely determination that melts obstacles like glacial ice. Channel this potent energy towards long-term goals, strategic planning, and disciplined execution.

This transit highlights strategic planning and execution. Mars in Capricorn is known for its disciplined and strategic approach. Leverage this energy by focusing on long-term goals and creating a solid business plan. Your business goals will come into lazor-sharp clarity. Expect a surge of motivation and determination to achieve them. Be strategic, break down your goals into actionable steps, and watch your projects take flight. Your natural business acumen will be amplified. Make calculated decisions, negotiate from a position of strength, and capitalize on any opportunities that arise. Your strategic mind will be a force to be reckoned with.

The urge to spend impulsively will be replaced by a healthy dose of financial prudence. Review your budget, explore savings options, and invest in your future. This is a prime time to build a solid financial foundation. Push yourself towards goals, but avoid overexertion and burnout. Schedule breaks, prioritize self-care, and delegate tasks to avoid reaching your limit. Because Mars can fuel aggression. Handle disagreements with diplomacy and professionalism. Remember, collaboration, not conflict, is key to business success.

Remember, Capricorns, mountains aren’t climbed in a sprint, but with every focused step, you’ll reach the summit, leaving a fiery trail of accomplishment in your wake. Now, excuse me while I go rewrite my to-do list with “world domination” in bigger letters. Use this time to network strategically. Connect with like-minded individuals, build partnerships, and expand your professional circle. You never know who might become your next business sherpa!

Tips for this Transit:

Channel your drive productively

Mind your temper

Stay grounded

Review and adapt

Avoid procrastination

Sharpen Your Wit, Secure the Deal: Mercury in Capricorn

We have a chance to correct our goals from the confusion caused by the recent retrograde. Clarity takes center stage. Your words will be deliberate, well-chosen, and impactful. Use this gift to communicate plans, negotiate deals, and close partnerships with confidence. Every conversation becomes a calculated chess move. Detail-oriented thinking gets a boost. This is the time to refine your business plans, analyze financial data, and create rock-solid strategies. Be a master architect of your future, leaving no stone unturned. You’ll see the bigger picture with laser focus. This is prime time to set ambitious goals for your business and finances, but remember, patience is key. Think marathons, not sprints.

Embrace the momentum. This Mercury in Capricorn transit is a gift for your professional and financial pursuits. Use its focused energy to communicate effectively, strategize your moves, and build a solid foundation for future success. Remember, Capricorn, slow and steady wins the race. This is a fantastic time to negotiate contracts and agreements. Prepare thoroughly, anticipate potential challenges, and don’t be afraid to walk away from deals that don’t align with your goals. Trust your instincts and sharpen your negotiation skills, Capricorns, the ball is in your court!

Tips for this Transit:

Mind the tone (avoid being curt or overfly critical)

Listen actively (be open to adjusting your plans)

Flexibility is key (stay adaptable)

[asirensrage]

The Choice

Title: The Choice Fandom: MCU Rating: M Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader Word count: 1891 Warnings: serial killer!Steve, choking, violence, use of a knife, threats, swearing, implied kidnapping, dark fic! (don't worry, the cat lives)

Summary: Based on the scary story prompts from @darkpromptsyouneveraskedfor. Prompts include: 11) "You're so pretty when you sleep, so peaceful." and 18) 'After a horror marathon, you check under the bed only to find out that you should've looked sooner.'

Horror prompts masterlist

Notes: This is a dark fic. It's violent. There's no redemption in this. The reader is not described in size and/or looks (but does mention wearing a bra). I don't usually write reader fics but this is how this one turned out.

Heed the warnings.

You don’t usually get scared. Well, not that scared. You’ve seen horror movies before and watching alone has never bothered you. Until this one because you can’t stop thinking about the way the man lived in their attic for years, just watching them. Maybe because you live alone now. 

Maybe you should get a dog. To go with your cat, Hershey. Something to add to the company and help warn you if anyone was hiding in your walls. Could they sense that? They had to. Though if a dog started barking at the wall, you might consider a ghost before thinking someone was actually in there. Either way, people were generally more afraid of dogs than they were of cats. It’d at least make you feel better.

With a mental note to check out the shelters, and your bank account, in the morning, you go through the process of brushing your teeth. You keep your back to the mirror if only to keep your mind from conjuring up images of something being there when you look at your reflection.

You don’t look back as you leave the bathroom, turning to enter your bedroom. You shimmy out of the sweatpants you’re wearing, letting them fall to the floor. You’re not wearing a bra, comfort being the prime goal when marathoning movies and the tank top you have on is one you sleep in. Easy to just crawl into bed, turn off the light and pass out while praying you didn’t manage to give yourself nightmares. 

At least, until you notice your cat at the edge of your bed, staring underneath it.

“What’s up? Lose something?” You ask softly. It’s not unusual for him to bat something under the bed or couch and then demand you rescue it. He didn’t move though, even as you reached down and stroked the fur on his back. “Or you just out to freak me out?” It wouldn’t be the first time. 

You sigh and kneel on the floor, grabbing your phone and turning on the flashlight before you look under the bed for the wayward toy. Eyes stare back at you. 

“Holy shit!” You recoil fast, dropping the phone and scrambling away. That wasn’t real. That wasn’t– All thought stops as a hand emerges from the darkness under your bed and grips the side of it. It uses the leverage to slide out. You stare in horror as the form becomes clear. It’s a man. A giant man considering how tall he is when he finally starts to stand. How did he even fit…before you even finish the thought, you run. 

You head straight for the door. It’s not far. Your apartment isn’t that large and while that used to be a good thing, now it just means less space to move, to have between you and whoever was under your bed. Still, it’s yours and you know it like the back of your hand. 

The door does not budge. It doesn’t matter that you unlocked it, and you tugged, over and over, it does not move. You look behind you and he’s standing there, in the doorway of your room, just watching. Fuck that. 

“It won’t work,” his voice sounds. 

You mentally calculate your chances and try it anyway. You head towards him and turn quickly, right before he can reach you. You slam the bathroom door behind you. You don’t have a lot of time and the apartment is terrible enough that there’s no real window you can use. Instead, you do the only thing you can. He’s breaking down the door. It cracks with every thump as he calls you by name. 

You use your elbow and break the mirror. 

There’s a moment of silence as though he realizes what you’re doing. You grab a washcloth and wrap it around the end of one of the shards and move closer to the door, waiting. Your heart is in your throat and you pray to whatever gods there are that he hasn’t hurt Hershey. That would be devastating. 

The door breaks, his hand punching its way through. You slice. Horror movies have taught you enough to aim properly. The glass digs into your hand but it doesn’t matter. You shove it down harder until it slices across the inside of his arm. There’s a reason people aim there when they commit suicide. You have to at least try. 

The arm retreats, the man swearing. 

You don’t have a lot of time. You yank open the door, using the moment that he’s trying to control the bleeding, to shove him back. He barely moves but you manage to slide past him, using the chance to stab him in the leg as well. You don’t stop though. 

You crash into the side table that is in the way. It’s not completely in the middle of the hallway but it’s enough that you hit it. “Fuck!”

You look back just to see if he’s still there. He is; walking slowly toward you like he’s Michael Myers. You take the stupid side table and throw it at him before running for the windows.

They won't budge. Your hands slip, slick with blood from where the glass dug in. That doesn’t stop you from trying but you can’t get a proper grip. Fine. You never liked them anyway. You grab the nearest heavy item, a lamp of all things, and try to use it to break the glass. It shatters instead. 

Movement out of the corner of your eye sends you jumping aside. He’s close enough to touch and you throw yourself over the couch to get some space. You scramble to get up but the man lands from his own jump. Before you can move, he’s on you, one hand wrapped around your throat. You kick at him, trying to get space. 

“Enough,” he snaps. He tightens his grip and your vision spots. He looks vaguely familiar this close. Like you’ve seen him before. “I’m going to give you a choice. Same choice everyone gets.” You struggle harder, kicking out and trying to catch him in the side. The pressure on your throat increases and you claw at the hand, at his face, anything to get some air because you can’t breathe, you can’t breathe! Oh god. Your sight goes black first and you can still feel him on you, pressing down until it fades. 

You wake up coughing. His grip loose and you gulp at the air given, trying to breathe as your lungs burn and your throat hurts. Your head swims as you try to focus. You need to get out. You grab at the wrist of the hand that rests on your skin. 

 He doesn’t move though, still kneeling over you. His weight keeps you in place. 

“You ready to hear it?” His hand stays pressed against your throat. “You get to pick who dies, sweetheart. You or someone close to you. And don’t lie, doll, because I’ll know. Just like I know that you're so pretty when you sleep, so peaceful.”

“Oh god,” you moan. How long had he been watching you? How long had he been under your bed? You try to dig your nails into his hand, his joints, your neck, anything that will get the pressure to ease. It doesn’t. He tightens his grip and in moments, your vision spots again and tears leak from your eyes. You’re going to die here. 

He relaxes his grip just enough to let you breathe. “Choose.”

“Fuck you!” You snap through your tears. You can’t stop crying. Not when it hurts. Not when you know this is it.  

He grins and for a moment, he looks young. He looks like Captain America. How fucked up is that? You turn your head, determined not to play this game. Despite the hand on your throat, his other arm is holding him up as he leans over you. It doesn’t take much for you to move, just enough to sink your teeth into his skin. 

“Shit!” He yanks his arm back but you try to dig in harder. The human jaw can exert a fair amount of pressure and the mouth was dirty as anything. If you were lucky at all, you’d at least give him rabies or something. Not that you had rabies but sepsis works just as well. 

The hand on your throat tightens and he lifts you by your neck up just enough to slam your head back into the floor. You let go, dazed. You don’t know when you blacked out, or for how long, but you wake with a rasping cough, arms pinned now under his knees. You cannot move. 

“Choose,” he demands again. “You or someone close to you. A friend. Sibling. Parent…” 

“No,” you choke out, blinded by the tears rolling down your temples into your hair.

He reaches for something at his leg and through your blurred vision, you can make out a knife. “Everyone chooses. One way or another.”

“Fuck you!”

The blade of the knife is cold as it presses against your cheek. “Do you want to know who chose you?” he asks. He leans down, nose nearly touching yours. For a moment, you think he’s about to kiss you. You hope not. You hope he just kills you quickly and doesn’t press for anything else. “It was your coworker. You know the one. You told her that her boyfriend hit on you at the Christmas party. She called you a liar. Said you deserved to die more than she did.”

You remembered that. Miranda snapped at you, said you must have hit on him and tried to turn the tables when he rejected you. As if you’d waste your time with that asshole. What a– the world fades again.

“-bitch,” you croak out, upon waking up. 

“You pick her?”

“No!” You shake your head, as much as you can with him still holding you by the throat. 

“Pick someone,” he demands.

“Fuck you!” 

“You choose or I kill you,” he says. The blade presses harder against your cheek. “You can exchange your life for theirs. Pick.”

You muster up any courage you have left and spit at him. “Screw you, asshole! Kill me and get it over with!” 

He pulls back, his weight heavier as he straddles you. “You really mean that, don’t you?” He looks surprised before he grins again. “You want me to kill you. What if I say you can pick anyone? Doesn’t matter if they’re close to you.”

“Fuck you.” 

He laughs at that before he drops the knife. You stare at him, confused as he lets go of your throat. “Everyone always picks someone else. Always.” He stares down at you, looking almost awed. “Not you though.”

He grabs something else, pulling it from a pocket and you think you hear him mutter that he didn’t think he’d ever get to use it. He leans forward again, out of the range of your teeth and cracks the small container he has in one hand. Smoke releases and he holds it against your nose. You struggled harder, trying to get out. 

“Shhh,” the hand that was on your throat moves, pushing back your hair. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. Relax, I’ll be with you ‘til the end of the line.”

Your vision goes black.

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