#also I hate that I keep slipping off into the same dream

[soapisahimbo]

Three's Company - John 'Soap' MacTavish & Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Request by @st4rv1ng-m0uth:

Well I just finished reading uou nsfw alphabet for Soap and The idea you had under the dirty secret was just amazing so I would love to request threesome with Ghost and Johnny (also I think it if they kissed in the eiffel tower position that would be just *chef's kiss*)

Oh. My. God. This request was sent to me in January. I am so sorry that you had to wait this long, but I sincerely hope this makes up for the wait! This is a bit of a beast at 7200 words, which might not seem like a lot compared to some writers, but it is to me! I really, really, really hope you like it!

Contains heavy smut elements, so minors stay away!

warnings: threesome, fem!reader/female anatomy, overstimulation, soap and ghost get FILTHY with reader, eiffel tower position, oral sex, penetrative sex, semi-homoeroticism, may contain spelling errors despite checking, i fucking got carried away

You felt the world roll with a yelp and a whoosh; the floor came up to meet you, your back slammed against the mat and you knew that it was with just enough force to leave a bruise for a good week or so. Such was the way of Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley - he never actually hurt you, but he'd beat you up just enough for you to remember the lesson. To be fair though, you suspected he was going easy on you. Or, well, easier compared to the others he usually sparred with, just a tad.

With another quick sweeping motion, he pulled you by your arm to sit you up, only to slip into position behind you and wrap you up in a grip so tight you were sure that a boa constrictor would be considered child's play in comparison; one arm wrapped around your neck in a chokehold, your arm that he grabbed twisted at an uncomfortable angle, and his legs clamped around your midsection like a beartrap.

You could only hold for a few seconds before you tapped his arm with your free hand to signal submission and he released you in an instant, letting you roll over and get back up on your feet. He stood up as well, towering over you.

"I thought you said you weren't gonna let me 'fuck you over' today," he said, and you swore you could've heard a tone of mockery in his voice. The balaclava gave you a better look at his eyes than the skull-mask usually did, but it still kept any expression on his face obscured. If he even had any expressions to show.

"Shut up," you said. "You caught me off guard is all."

"Uh-huh. Isn't the whole point of this to train so you don't get caught off guard?"

Ghost had, much to your surprise, been the one to offer to train you. Not that you weren't capable, but his argument for it was that you would need to learn to take down the best and the most dangerous soldiers that you could come across on the battlefield, and he wanted to make sure you were well trained. Just learning to take down someone his size alone could be imperative to your survival. As such, the two of you had met up every other day to spar if able, and by now you had been going for at least a couple of months of the same routine.

"Well, sometimes even the best of us get caught off guard. It's just as important to learn how to regain your footing when you lose your balance as it is to keep it," you quipped, proud of your analogy.

"Well, you failed."

You sighed, planting your hands on your hips, and stared at him for a moment. "You can't just let me have a moment, can you?"

"No. You're not here to have 'moments', you're here to train. You won't be havin' any moments if you're dead."

You rolled your eyes, but you knew he had a point. "I hate it when you're right."

"It's a burden I carry much too often." He stepped away to grab a bottle of water and handed it to you. "You got cocky. You lost the second you thought you could beat me."

"Oh wow, kill my hopes and dreams, why don't you?" you mumbled sarcastically.

"Never underestimate your opponent, and never overestimate your own abilities. A bloated ego will never do you any good. If you ask me, I'd say Sergeant MacTavish has rubbed off a bit too much on you."

You noticed that he was looking past you, over your shoulder, and you turned to see the very man mentioned leaning up against the wall with a grin on his face.

"Awae widdya now, lieutenant. I swear to you I've never rubbed anythin' off on anyone. Least of all any pretty ladies." He turned his gaze to you and gave a wink.

You'd be lying if you said Soap MacTavish didn't have an effect on you. For the most part, you considered him a good and trustworthy friend, someone who you knew you could lean on in troubled times. But he was also an incessant tease with a rugged sort of charm, a man who harmlessly liked to push buttons and limits all the same, and looked at you with a certain kind of gleam in his eyes that made you feel just the tiniest little flutter in your stomach. You couldn't let him catch you checking him out, or he'd never let you hear the end of it.

"Too busy rubbing yourself," Ghost deadpanned. breaking you out of your little moment of reverie.

Soap chuckled. "You should try it, maybe it'd help you relax."

"Now now, boys," you said from behind the lip of your water bottle, about to take a sip, "play nice."

Soap stepped away from the wall to join you and Ghost on the mat. "I always play nice, wouldn't you say, lass? LT however - he might be nice to you, but he'd shove a boot up my arse at any given moment."

You scoffed. "If this is what it feels like when he's 'nice', I don't want to know what it feels like when he plays rough."

"Might get you to stay focused for once," Ghost grumbled.

"How 'bout I join in, eh?" Soap offered. "It's always good to have some variation in your life."

"You wanna teach her how to blabber her enemies to death?"

"You know I could give some good pointers."

You couldn't help but hesitate. Getting your ass handed to you by the Ghost was rough enough, but Ghost and Soap? You knew that despite all their bickering, they were a tight and dangerous pair that garnered a lot of awe and respect from their peers. On one hand, you probably couldn't find anyone better to train you even if you tried; on the other, you weren't sure how you'd make it through a session with both of them.

You heard Ghost let out a slight sigh. "Fine." He turned to you. "You go a couple of rounds with MacTavish, I'll watch, then we switch. Stay on your toes and stay. Focused."

He didn't seem to give you any say in the matter, so you were left with little other choice but to do as you were told. You put your bottle to the side, straightened the laces on your boots and took a deep breath. "Yessir."

Soap - Johnny, as he gave you special permission to call him, which otherwise seemed to be Ghost's sole privilege - made a habit of joining you for your regular sparring sessions, and while you definitely learned some very valuable lessons, they certainly put you through the ringer. You made the mistake of thinking that maybe the sergeant would have been a bit more easygoing compared to his masked counterpart, but while he kept up the usual light-hearted humour, he and Ghost gave you very little respite. You were however making improvement, so much so that even Ghost complimented you on it, so you kept your complaining to a minimum.

You couldn't help but feel like there was something hanging in the air, though. You tried to brush it off as just good-natured competition between them, but you knew that wasn't quite it. After about two months of training with them, you started to notice some interesting behaviour to say the least.

They were usually already there when you arrived, keeping a hushed conversation that quickly ended once you entered the room. Probably some confidential stuff, you thought.

They were liberal with slower walkthroughs, one always putting their hands on you to adjust your position when grappling with the other. They're just being thorough, you thought.

They kept bantering, and you couldn't help but feel like they were showing off. For you or for each other, you couldn't tell, but they had a certain way of butting heads over what to do and how to do it better than the other. That's just the way they are, you thought.

By the end of each session, it felt like something was ready to snap, but you couldn't for the life of you put your finger on it. You found yourself waiting for something to happen, but you didn't know what, and you couldn't tell if you felt relieved or disappointed when nothing did. The more that feeling kept growing, the more that snap felt ever imminent, and it didn't seem like you could do anything but brace.

It wasn't until you happened to overhear a conversation between them that the feeling seemed to gain some sort of validity. You didn't mean to snoop, but just as you were about to step through the door, you heard Johnny mention your name, and you stopped right next to the doorway.

"We'd be going against an entire library's worth of paragraphs," you heard Ghost respond to whatever he had said.

"You keep saying that, but you still haven't said that you don't want it," he scoffed. "I'm pretty sure Price has had his fair share, and I know for a fact that Gaz has."

"Fuck's sake, Johnny."

"Listen, I'm not dumb, all right?"

"I have my doubts."

"Fuck off. Look, I'm not talking about pulling some dirty tricks or trying to persuade her into doing something she doesn't want to do. If she doesn't want anything to do with it, that's it, end of story."

"Do you realize she's in our squad? This will only serve to create unnecessary complications. We are her superiors - ever stop to think about how that'll look if anyone were to find out? Get your head out of your fucking ass."

"Of course I've thought about it! I'm aware of how fucked this is. But I also know you're as deep in it as I am." There was a moment's heavy pause and you could feel it even from where you were standing.

"We're done talking about this, Johnny."

You took this as your cue to step in and found the two of them glaring at each other, but they didn't seem to notice you until you spoke up. "Done talking about what?" you said.

It was almost as if though you had poured buckets of icy water over them with how they jolted at the sound of your voice, their heads snapped in your direction and they stared at you with such wide eyes that you thought they would pop out of their sockets. If their topic of discussion hadn't sounded so serious before you entered, you probably would've laughed.

They stayed quiet and frozen for a few more moments. "Is..." you started. "Is there something I should know?"

Johnny seemed to splutter back to reality. "No! No, no, not at all, we were just-"

"How much did you hear?" Ghost interrupted, demanding but apprehensive.

You shrugged. "Enough to know you were talking about me, but that's about it." You squinted your eyes at them. "The fuck are you guys up to that you have to be this secretive about it? Are you in trouble?"

"No," said Johnny, "no, we're not in any trouble. And neither are you, we were just... discussing something."

"Uh-huh, uh-huh. Listen, if there's anything I need to know, I'd prefer it if you just told me. Especially if the two of you are gonna keep sneaking around behind my back like this."

You had never seen them this stiff and... awkward. Like two teenage boys getting caught watching porn by their mom. Their eyes flitted between each other and you, contemplating whether to tell you and how much. They seemed to come to some silent agreement before turning to you once more.

"Not here," Ghost grumbled. "We can head to my room. It's... a bit more secluded."

"An invitation to Simon Riley's private quarters?" you tried to joke. "Wow, this must be something special."

Neither of them responded, instead Ghost just stepped by you and Johnny gestured for you to follow. Walking down the halls, that feeling in the air was heavier than ever, and you still couldn't tell what it was or if it made you excited or nervous; if it was something serious or just something that they'd built up in their heads to be bigger than it actually was.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you guys were up to something illegal," you said after walking in awkward silence for far longer than you were comfortable with. "Is this the part where you tell me you've been running an underground drug ring all this time?"

Johnny chuckled. "Not illegal, technically, just..." He gave an odd glance at you. "Maybe a bit questionable."

Ghost's room was not quite what you expected it to be. Clean and tidy, well-lit, organized. You'd half-expected there to be a row of skull-masks to be hanging neatly on the wall - one for every day of the week. Or mood. Maybe he hid them in his closet.

"All right," you said, watching him take a seat at his desk. "Are you guys gonna tell me what's up?"

The men glanced at each other once more. "We, uh," Johnny began. "There's something we've been thinking about. A... proposition, of sorts?"

Ghost groaned. "Don't call it that. We're not proposing or offering anything here, all right? We just need to get this out, clear the fuckin' air."

"Fine, don't lose yer fuckin' head. Listen, we don't expect anything off of you, or think that this is something you'd want, we just don't want you to get the wrong idea or get caught up in something you don't want to be involved in."

"This is starting to sound more and more like a drug ring after all," you muttered.

"It's not, all right, I can promise you that. It's just that... after some time, LT and I feel like you've been doing very well during practice and we're quite proud of you. But we also feel like there's something we can't quite... overlook."

You couldn't get over how they were acting. Johnny was usually such a cocky and confident man, you'd never seen him struggle to find the words he wanted to say.

"Ok, and?"

"Just get to the point," Ghost grumbled.

"This isn't exactly an easy conversation here, LT, I'm tryin' to-"

"This was your fuckin' idea, Soap, you get to see it through."

"Guys-" you tried, but to no avail.

"You wouldn't be here if you didn't want it too!"

"I want you to get it out of your fuckin' system so you can shut up about it for once!"

"Go fuck yerself, you're just as involved as-"

"You're the one that has been scheming about this shit since day one, don't fuckin' pin it on me!"

"For fuck's sake!"

You honestly wished you knew what was going on, but between their arguing and your own confusion, you didn't even realize Johnny had walked up to you until he grabbed you by the wrist, pulled you to him and planted his lips on yours. You weren't quite sure what to make of this or what to focus on - his lips were far softer than you ever would've thought they'd be, and his hands, now cupping your cheeks, were far gentler than you had experienced before. He broke off just as suddenly as he'd grabbed you and you felt your head spin, gripping onto his wrists for some sort of stability.

"Whoa..." you mumbled.

"Fuckin' hell," you heard Ghost growl.

"Sorry," Johnny muttered, seemingly just as dazed as you. "I lost my cool there for a second."

You couldn't help but chuckle. You weren't sure what to make of this, but a part of you wanted to just go with it. "I mean, I didn't really mind it."

"You serious?"

"Yeah. Didn't think this was what you were going for, but it could've been worse, I guess."

His face split into a grin before he leaned in and kissed you again, more calm and controlled this time. You weren't sure how long you stood there for until you heard Ghost clearing his throat, and you flinched at the sound, blushing profusely once you remembered where you were.

"Sorry to interrupt you, lovebirds, but if this is how it's gonna go, you can just head to your own rooms."

Johnny glanced over at him. You could see the gears turning before he looked at you, planted another gentle kiss onto you lips and then turned you towards the lieutenant, placing himself behind you. He put his hands on your waist and leaned his chin against your shoulder.

"Come on now, LT. Isn't this what we came here for?"

You looked between them, watching another lazy grin appear on Johnny's face and Ghost's hands clench at the armrests on his desk-chair. Slowly, you felt it click in your head.

"This is why you guys have been acting so weird? You both have a thing for me?"

"That's one way to put it."

"So, what, you want me to choose between you or something? You guys have been having some weird competition over who gets the girl?"

Ghost stood up. "Not quite," he said. He stared at you and you couldn't quite tell if maybe there was some sort of jealousy or if he wanted to leave you be.

"It's more of a mutual desire, really," Johnny mumbled into your hair.

Ghost stepped towards you, slowly. Gently, he grabbed your chin and tilted it up and stared into your eyes. He ran his thumb along your jaw and then up to your bottom lip. "This ok?" he asked quietly.

Oh.

Oh.

It made sense now - or at least a bit more than it did before. Their weird behaviour, their conversation, the way they'd kept dancing around the point. To be fair, you would've expected the drug ring long before you'd ever thought of this.

You took a moment to think it through; this wasn't exactly something that happened every day. Just like Ghost had said earlier, this would not look good if anyone else were to find out. All three of you would end up in heaps of trouble, them possibly more than you. You knew, logically, that it was probably for the best to end it right here, to say "thanks, but no thanks", walk away and pretend like this never happened. They definitely knew this, too, but there was something about the warmth emanating from them, enveloping you; the touch, that tension in the air. That snap that had been hanging over your heads this entire time, like a rubber band pulled to its absolute limit. You knew that you should say no to this.

But how could you?

Before you even knew what you were doing, you nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, it's ok."

You could tell that they both relaxed significantly, Johnny pressing himself closer to your back and squeezing at your waist as Ghost reached up and pulled his mask off. No. Simon. You'd seen him before, but it didn't make it any less palpable to see him again.

He gave you a moment to stare at his face before he leaned in and kissed you, surprisingly much gentler than the sergeant. Your heart was already pounding and your mind was racing, not knowing what to focus on; Simon's lips on yours, Johnny's tongue at your neck, their hands caressing you all over, stroking and kneading and wandering. You didn't know what to do with your own, so they wandered as well, grabbing at their shirts, at their arms, at their hair, their belts.

"Look at this, LT," Johnny spoke softly as his hands slipped in under your shirt and up to your chest, "we had nothing to worry about."

Simon hummed into your mouth, his tongue slipping in past your lips. His hand moved downwards, cupping your mound and rubbing at it, and your hips tilted back, ass grinding right into Johnny. You broke the kiss with a gasp, leaning your head back to catch your breath.

"That feel good, bonnie?" Johnny chuckled into your ear and cupped your breasts over your bra, squeezing. "Want us to keep going?"

You nodded. "Yes! Yeah, I want- keep going."

You felt a tug and looked down to see Simon unbuckling your belt. He unbuttoned your pants, opening them up and slipping a hand right down your underwear, finding a slick heat in his wake, and your mouth fell open in a soft gasp. He groaned and rubbed circles around your hole, as if taking in the sensation of your wetness.

"Fffuck me," he whispered. "She's fucking soaked."

Johnny grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up to your chest, exposing your skin and leaning over your shoulder to get a view of what his lieutenant was doing. "Give 'er here, LT."

You watched with utter surprise and fascination as Simon pulled his hand back out from your pants, fingers glistening, and held it right up to Johnny's face, who took his fingers into his mouth without an ounce of hesitation.

"How's she taste?" Simon asked.

Johnny hummed against the hand as he sucked and licked it clean before releasing it and turned his head to look you dead in the eyes. "Like a fuckin' dream."

You whimpered as Simon ran his now wet hand over your throat, then down between your breasts, over your stomach. He then grabbed onto the hem of your pants and started pulling them down, leaving you bare.

"Oh, shit," you breathed as he knelt down in front of you.

He untied and yanked your boots off before removing your pants and underwear completely. "Lift her leg up for me, will ya, Johnny?"

Johnny shifted his weight and you felt his chest at your shoulder, holding a firm grip with his arm around your waist before he scooped up one of your legs by the crook of your knee. He grinned at you and leaned in to press his lips against yours one more, far more eager and heated than he was before. It was hard for you to focus though, as you felt Simon's large hands rub up along the inside of your thighs. Before you knew it, you felt him press his face in between your legs, and at the feeling of his lips on you, you gasped, and Johnny took the chance to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You don't know how they did it, but they seemed to work in perfect tandem. Johnny's tongue stroking against yours, Simon's tongue lapping at your pussy, driving you out of your mind with pleasure. In an attempt to ground yourself, you tried to find something to hold on to - one hand made it's way to Simon's head and grabbed a tight hold on his hair and had him groan into your core. The other found Johnny's arm around your waist, gripping and digging your nails into his skin.

You thought you felt a wet drop run down your leg and you weren't sure if it was your own or Simon's making, but he gave you very little time to consider it as he slipped a calloused finger into you. You broke away from Johnny's kiss with a moan and your head fell back against his shoulder.

He chuckled. "Y'feel good, bonnie? Is your pussy all wet and nice for us?"

You couldn't do much else but nod fervently. "Yes," you moaned, "yes, I'm-!" You felt another finger push inside and your hips canted against Simon's face. "Fuck!"

"Just like that, baby," Johnny mumbled into your ear. "Look at you now, hm? Gonna watch you cum all over his face like a good fuckin' girl."

The shivers that ran through your body at his words met with the heat at the pit of your stomach from Simon's mouth and fingers and you trembled. You thought you'd shake apart, but they held onto you so tightly that they might has well have been glued to you. You felt Simon's fingers curl inside you, finding the spot that you'd always had trouble reaching on your own, and his tongue worked between your folds and then up to your clit. The volume of the moan that left you startled you, and for a brief moment you were worried that someone else would hear, but it only seemed to spur your company on. Johnny ground his crotch against your rear with another chuckle and buried his face in your neck, licking and nibbling at your jawline as Simon sucked on your clit and pumped his fingers in and out, pushing against that spot again and again and again.

"Ah, f-fuck, fuckfuckfuck," you panted, "thi-this is s-so fucki- I'm-!"

"Breathe," Johnny groaned against your skin, "breathe. You're so good, so fuckin' good to us. Cum on his face now, bonnie, go on, cum on his face and then you can cum on our cocks, yeah?"

Another wave of shivers had you quivering in his arms. Simon pressed his face further into your pussy, grunting like a man starved with his free hand gripping onto your thigh, and Johnny moaned at you further to "cum, baby, cum for us, I promise it'll feel so good." The heat in between your thighs felt like it was starting to boil, a sort of pressure getting stronger and stronger and stronger, condensing into a white-hot pinpoint of pleasure at your core, and Johnny cooed, Simon fucked his fingers into you and you squirmed between them until the pressure finally burst and you came with a cry and a gush over Simon's hand and mouth. Your legs shook as Simon worked you through your orgasm and you surely would've collapsed if wasn't for Johnny holding you up. You couldn't stop the sounds you let out, your hips twitching and shaking, the pleasure almost becoming too much as Simon still didn't break away, and you whined trying to get away from his onslaught.

"S-Simon," you whimpered, "too much, too- fuck, I can't!"

Johnny lifted you slightly and turned, just enough to move you away from the lieutenant. "Easy there, LT," he said when Simon glared at him and placed your leg back down. "Gotta pace ourselves, yeah?" He then gestured to you to lift your arms up so he could pull your shirt off, and then removed your bra only to fill his hands with your breasts.

Simon took a deep breath, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He stared at your pussy, slick and wet and hot and delicious, and licked his fingers clean before he stood up. He cupped your cheeks in his hands, leaning down to kiss you, and you could taste yourself on him. As if running on instinct, you tugged at his belt and he sighed into your mouth, staring into your eyes as you unbuckled and unbuttoned his pants.

"That what you want, sweetheart?"

You nodded, and then turned to look over your shoulder at Johnny. You arched your back, rubbing your ass against his groin and he took it as a signal to get rid of his pants as well. He grinned and made quick work of his clothes as you reached into Simon's boxers and pulled his member out. It was hot to the touch, thick and heavy in your hand, and you felt your mouth water at the sight of it.

"Go on, bonnie," Johnny said as he grabbed two handfuls of your buttcheeks and rubbed his cock between them with a sigh. "Can't wait to fuck you."

You leaned forward, bending over for them. Simon gently gathered up your hair in his hand and rubbed over your shoulder blades with the other, crossing with Johnny's hand in the middle as he rubbed at your lower back. You wrapped your fingers around the base of Simon's cock and licked a line along the length of him, and you heard him groan.

"Ain't she a pretty sight, LT?" Johnny sighed. You felt him rub the head of his member against your clit.

Simon hummed, watching you with a slack jaw as put your mouth on him. "Like a fuckin' dream," he mumbled.

You wrapped your lips around the head of him and sucked gently. You weren't sure if you'd be able to take all of him in your mouth, but damn it if you weren't going to try. You heard him breathe out a curse as you worked your hand along his shaft and bobbed your head, gently trying to coax more of him in. Johnny pressed closer against your pussy, rubbing his cock against it before he lined himself up properly. You braced yourself, trying to keep a clear head as he pushed a little bit more and more, until the glans of his head finally entered you and he easily slid inside you with a moan of near relief.

"Ah, Christ, shit, you're so fucking soft," he breathed. He pushed his hips a bit harder against you, inadvertently knocking you closer to Simon and pushing his cock deeper down your throat.

You choked for barely a second before Simon pulled back. "Easy, Johnny!"

"Sorry, sorry..."

Simon stroked your cheek and went to ask if you were ok, but you wrapped your lips around him again and the words died right on the tip of his tongue. Slowly but surely, you found a rhythm of letting Johnny's momentum push you forward and let Simon's cock sink further into your mouth and then pushing yourself back onto Johnny's. The heat was overwhelming, but addictive, and you felt the buildup in your core once more, your legs already quivering.

Simon held onto your hair, stroking your face and your neck and your shoulders, completely silent save for a few sighs. Johnny, however, seemed like he couldn't keep his mouth shut.

"Fuck, we should've done this sooner, you're fuckin' perfect, bonnie," he grunted as he fucked into you deeper and harder. "This fuckin' ass- I knew this ass was perfect the moment I saw it, baby, and this pussy, too, this pussy is heaven." He stretched you perfectly, and you didn't think you'd ever be able to find anyone that could compare to this.

Moaning against Simon, you braced your hands against his hips, doing the best you could to swallow him down, but with each thrust from Johnny, it got harder and harder to focus.

"Awh, fuckin' shit, you're fuckin' grippin' me," Johnny rambled, "yeah, you're gonna cum on this cock, lass, I know you are, I know you fuckin' are, do it, baby, do it."

Faster and harder, deeper and stronger, he thrusted and thrusted and he praised and moaned for you to cum. He reached his hand around, slipped his fingers in between your thighs to rub your clit and you shook, almost unable to make a sound as you still held Simon as far deep down your throat as you could. You could barely prepare for the next wave of pleasure that washed over you, and you came with yet another gush, and Johnny let out an almost triumphant moan.

"Fuck yes, baby, that's it. Thaaat's it, good girl." He kept going, a bit slower and a bit softer, but still enough to have you shake. "Think you can do it again, sweetie? I'm gonna need you to do that again, I wan-"

Simon suddenly reached up one hand and snatched Johnny by the mohawk and pulled him close over you, the other hand wrapped around the sergeant's throat. You were squeezed in between them, Johnny's cock pushed deeper into your pussy, and Simon's felt like it was nearly all the way down your esophagus. In a moment of shocked silence, as your eyes rolled back, Simon kissed Johnny harshly, parting with an almost punishing bite to the other man's bottom lip.

"Do you ever shut the fuck up?" he growled. He leaned in again, forcing Johnny's head to tilt as he pushed his tongue into his mouth, and broke away with another bite of his lip and a thin string of saliva hanging between them. "I think I've got just the thing, actually."

He pushed Johnny away, hard enough to have him slip out of you. He was considerably gentler with you, pulling his cock out of your mouth and cupping your cheeks as you coughed to lift your head up to give you a gentle kiss.

"You ok, sweetheart?" You nodded, the soreness in your throat not all too bad considering what you'd just had down it. Pleased, he turned you around, and you saw that Johnny had stumbled onto the bed. "How about you and I," Simon whispered in your ear as he ran his hands over your breasts, "teach him a lesson for once?"

Before you could answer, he picked you up. He walked towards the bed, sat down at the headboard and leaned back. He adjusted you on his lap, your back against his chest, and placed his knees on the inside of yours before he slowly spread them apart as Johnny watched from the foot of the bed. Johnny smirked and began to crawl towards you, but before he could reach you fully, Simon reached up and yanked his hair again.

"Easy now, pup," he growled. "Put my fuckin' cock in her pussy before you even think about doin' anythin' else."

There was only a tiny moment of stunned silence, but it was heavy nonetheless. You didn't think they'd reach a point where they actually got involved with each other, but as you watched Johnny take a deep shaky breath and his eyes widen, you found that you hoped that maybe they'd go a bit further.

Johnny swallowed nervously before reaching his hand out to grab Simon. Hesitantly, but almost mischievously, he wrapped his fingers around the member and moved his hand up and down once.

"No games, Johnny," Simon warned, and Johnny actually chuckled.

He then lined the head of Simon's cock up with your hole and held it there as you sank down on it. You gasped, having to pace yourself at the thickness of it. Simon held a gentle hand just above your mound, gently pushing you down as he still held a firm grip on Johnny's hair.

"Easy, sweetheart, no need to rush," he mumbled.

Johnny could only helplessly watch as you slowly worked the entirety of Simon's length into you, and you thought you maybe saw a single drop of drool roll from the corner of his mouth.

"So I don't get to join in on the fun anymore?" he quipped, but you could hear a slight quiver to his voice.

"I thought I told you to shut up," Simon muttered.

You shivered as you tried to adjust to his size, rolling your hips once with a moan. He was thicker than Johnny, thick enough that you felt him press against every side of your inner walls, as well as the g-spot that they'd already worked up to high sensitivity before.

"There you go." Simon tugged Johnny closer by his hair. "Now then. Why don't we put that mouth of yours to some good fuckin' use for once, huh?"

He then yanked Johnny's head down between your legs and pushed his face into your pussy, and even in his own surprise it didn't even take a second before he began working his tongue between your folds. You cried out, feeling like you still hadn't quite come down from your previous orgasm, but even if you wanted, you wouldn't have been able to get away with how Simon wrapped his arm tightly around your waist and rolled his hips up. Your head fell back and you tried to find some way to brace yourself, any way, as every brush of Johnny's tongue and every thrust of Simon's cock drove you further and further out of your mind. You thought you maybe came once more, but you couldn't be sure - every sensation seemed to melt into one and you were so high-strung that you might as well be having just one drawn-out and consistent orgasm at this point.

Simon kept Johnny's head in firm position between your legs. "How's that feel, love? Is his mouth as good on your pussy as it is at talking shit?"

Johnny groaned in what sounded like some sort of protest, but he never made any attempt at moving away. He lapped diligently at your pussy, sighing and moaning against you, licking around your hole where you were split open on Simon.

"Fuck, I-" you managed to croak out, almost forgetting how to speak. "I'm gonna- you're gonna be the death of me."

Simon let go of Johnny's hair and grabbed your legs, pulling your knees up to your chest. Johnny kept his mouth on you and you let out a whine nearing a sob as Simon began rocking his hips upward faster.

"Don't you worry, sweetheart, just relax. Breathe and relax."

In a matter of seconds, Johnny had his lips around your clit and sucked, and you cried out his name, legs shaking as he forced yet another orgasm out of you. You were sure you were losing your mind - there was no way this was actually happening, no way that you could actually feel this. You were only more and more convinced of this as Johnny continued licking, eager to get every drop.

"Fuck!" you whined. "Fuck, Johnny, Simon, I-!"

Simon pushed Johnny away, planted his feet into the mattress to adjust his angle and then pounded into you with some sort of newly found energy. Johnny wrapped his hand around his own cock, jerking it in rhythm with Simon's thrusts and leaned back down between your legs with a wide open mouth and his tongue out.

"One last time," Simon groaned. "One more, just one more."

Your legs tried to squeeze together on their own, but Simon's grip was too strong and you could do little else but grab onto whatever was near and hold as you came once more over Johnny's face, him and Simon following shortly after. With a grunt, Simon pushed himself as deep into you as he could get and you felt a sticky heat fill you up, and Johnny reared up, moaning aloud as he came all over where you and Simon were conjoined. He nearly fell over, head falling onto your stomach.

The only sound that broke the otherwise heavy silence was panting. You weren't sure if you could move or if even the slightest shift would have you break apart completely; it sure felt like it would. Simon wrapped his arms around you, planting soft kisses along your shoulder and neck. You thought Johnny might have fallen asleep where he laid, but he took a deep, deep breath and turned his head to press a few kisses around your bellybutton.

"Shit," he mumbled against you, "that was..." Neither you or Simon were able to respond, but it didn't seem to bother him as he glanced up at you with a chuckle. "I don't think anything will live up to that."

He pushed himself up to his hands and knees and crawled over you, his hips between yours and Simon's legs. He sighed almost dreamily and gave you a sweet kiss.

"We did a real number on you, huh?"

You couldn't help but laugh, still finding this whole ordeal impossible. "You think?"

"We should get her to the shower," Simon mumbled. "Clean her up."

Johnny nodded. "Sounds like a solid plan. Although I've half a mind to just lay down and knock out."

Simon leaned forward to sit up. "Shower first. Then knock out."

You whined suddenly at the movement, his cock still sitting snug inside you. The two men instantly froze, staring wide-eyed at you. "S-Sorry, it's ok, I'm just- I'm sensitive. I feel like you guys gave me a week's worth of fucking in a matter of minutes."

"Shit, we took it too far, didn't we?" Johnny said, his hands fluttering over your hips.

"No, no! I enjoyed it. A lot. But it's not like I'm particularly used to that sort of... conquest."

Simon sighed as Johnny chuckled. "I'm gonna try to be gentle, but we will need to get you to the shower nonetheless."

You nodded and the two of them looked at each other, coming to yet another one of those silent agreements that they were so good at.

"C'mere," Johnny said. "Sit up and wrap your arms around me, yeah?"

You grabbed onto his shoulder and pulled yourself up to him, wrapping your arms around his neck. He wrapped his around your torso and began to lift as Simon pushed you up from beneath until he slipped out of you. You felt your legs shake once more and the cum dripping out of you as you drew in a shaky breath.

"There you go," Simon said, much softer than you'd heard him before.

He turned and stood up as Johnny scooped you up into his arms. It was like they moved in unison to look after you - Simon walking first into the bathroom to pull aside the shower curtain and turning the water on as Johnny followed him closely behind. Johnny then stepped into the shower and gently placed you down on your feet, reaching out a hand to feel the temperature of the water before he guided you in under the stream. Simon gathered up a few towels before he joined you and you couldn't help but laugh. This shower didn't seem like it was meant to hold more than one person at a time and yet they both seemed adamant to look after you.

Johnny crouched down to clean your legs and to gently wash off the fluids between them, trying not to rub too much at already overly sensitive spots. Simon scrubbed your back, gently massaging your shoulders and scratching the skin at the base of your skull. You were sure you were about to fall asleep then and there, but they made quick work of it, before they stepped out with you and dried you off with a fresh towel.

Simon grabbed you a t-shirt and a pair of boxers that Johnny helped you put on before they essentially tucked you in. They laid down on either side of you and as they settled down, you felt a new sense of calm wash over you.

"Rest up, love," Simon said. "I think we might have pushed it a bit too much after all."

"It's fine," you mumbled, feeling drowsy. "I liked it. We should do it again some time."

Johnny chuckled. "I'm sure we will."

It got quiet, and you felt yourself slip into a slumber, held closely between them, warm and snug. But just before you fell asleep, you thought you heard them speak.

"LT." "Hm?" "What happens next?" "What do you mean?" "I mean, is this a thing now? I know you said this was to get it out of our systems, but I honestly don't think we achieved that." A sigh. "I know." "So what happens next?" "Dunno. We'll sleep on it, Johnny. Talk about it in the morning." "Mm. Good idea. G'night, I guess." "Night."

tagging: @deadbranch @argella1300

[dcxdpdabbles]

Respawn and Relive

@thenightwolf51 who tagged me in this months ago, but I didn't know enough about Respawn to write something. I didn't forget! I just still haven't found much on him, so sorry if I get his character wrong.

They don't give him a name.

It's one of the first things he notices they do to dehumanize him. It's not like they see clones as humans- he's just a science experiment meant to keep the legacy of the League of Assassins alive, even at the cost of his life.

He is just there to be trained to follow commands, and if needed, he is spare parts for the Real Son. He is made from part of the same DNA as the Real Son, but that hardly matters to what should be his mother, as she does not feel anything for his biological father and thus feels nothing for the being created from the two DNAs.

He is the clone created by Slade Wilson- alias Deathstroke- and Talia al Ghul. She may not had a hand in his creation, as that was done by her father, but she had no issues using him.

Torment him. Rip him apart and put it back together just to see what happens.

She looks at him with the same gaze she would a sword. Valuating his worth by how well he can do in training, how healthy his organs are, and how he should be nothing but a loyal dog.

But he isn't. Not really.

If this was all he knew, maybe he would be the weapon they wanted, but he knows more. Remembers more. Yes, he doesn't have all his memories, but he has flashes- glimpses- of the life he had before the Leauge.

They would disapprove of the memories, which makes them all the more precious.

He can still clearly remember his mother- his real mother- a brilliant mind, his father's warm, solid hugs, and his sister's gentle eyes. He can recall his home's layout even if he can not remember the street or how far it was from his school. He can identify his two best friends' faces even if their names slip through his fingers like falling sand.

He also remembers his first name and the initials of his last.

Danny F.

He thinks he died before, waking up as the clone. He remembers standing inside a metallic cave- or a large hole in a machine?- and being electrocuted. He remembers the screams, the flashes of light, the pain, and even a glimpse of his best friends' horrified faces but not much else.

The next clear memory is looking in a mirror to see white hair and green eyes. The same combination he now sports as the Leguage's weapon and spare organ farm.

The memories after that are filled with harsh training, even more, brutal torture, and the reintegration that should his half-brother ever need them, he would give up his organs for the Real Son.

He is, after all, Damian Wayne's gift. He was created to harvest his super healing for the boy's body parts. Danny thinks he hates him, but he's not sure he can remember what hate is supposed to feel like.

He does remember what love is supposed to feel like.

Sometimes, when all he can do is lay in his cell, body aching as they test his healing factor beyond its limits- they cut off his left arm once, just to watch the tissue slowly regrow- he lets himself drown in his old memories, in the few dream-like sequences.

Some make sense, others don't. For some, he's a black-haired blue-eyed boy, and for others, he has white hair and green eyes.

Danny is sitting in class, eagerly taking notes on a topic he has been having trouble with-

-He's playing fetch with a small green dog, throwing snowballs into the air, flying after the excited creature-

-Danny is playing video games with a goth girl and a nerdy boy, laughing so hard he can't see the buttons on the control correctly-

-He's flaying alongside his sister, aiming his outstretched arm at a figure in the sky, shooting a green ray at the same time she does down below in her mechanical armor-

-Danny is helping his mother mix the dough for the cookies. He is swaying his hips to the song she has on the speaker. She's in her teal jumpsuit, having come up from the lab to do mother/son cookies as they do every Thanksgiving-

-He's testing the latest blaster with his father. They wanted to see if the auto-aiming feature was interfering with his flying. He flickers the white bangs out of his eyes as his father cheers from the roof while he takes aim-

Yes, Danny knows what love is supposed to feel like, even if he can't remember all the details, even if his full name evades him. He will escape the Leauage of Assiagins and find that feeling again.

Maybe he'll track down his biological father. Deathstroke does not know a clone was created by him, so maybe he will be willing to take him in.

It takes months, but eventually, they tell him Damian Wayne needs a kidney. Why? They don't say, but Talia knows her Beloved will donate his own, and she won't stand for it. She orders him to fulfill his duty as guards drag him to the operation table.

He grits his teeth as they strap him down and prep for surgery. Thankfully, they don't apply any anesthetics- they don't deem him worthy of a painless operation- so he has a clear head for escape.

The surgery has a thirty-window opening with no guards around. He waits until they are about to begin when he taps into the powers his memories tell him. He makes his limbs intangible, slipping through the restraints with great effort.

The medics only have a few seconds to be shocked before he is upon them. They lay in a pool of blood- not dead. His chest flares up in pain if he kills, so he tries to avoid it as much as his environment allows- as he flies through the walls. He has been planning here, so he knows what to do. Turning invisible, he passes under a helicopter scheduled for a month supply run.

By doing so, he does not appear on any radars using the large cargo as camouflage. Danny drops into the ocean as the alarms go off on that wrenched island, allowing his whole body to turn tangible. This way, the water does not slow him down as he flies deeper and deeper down, praying that they won't be able to track him the further he goes. When he gets to the part where everything is too dark to see- he picks a direction from where he came and hits top speed.

Traveling three hundred miles an hour, Danny escapes the League of Assians with all his organs intact, so take that Damian Wayne.

He has no real destination in mind but maybe, he can find the little town of his memories or maybe he'll find Deathstroke.

Maybe he will discover what the F. in his name stands for.

For now, he'll work under the name Respawn because that's a name he picked out for himself, and he'll do what he wants. He's no one's tool any longer.

(Miles away Tim Drake squints at the small dot darting from Nanda Parbat on his spying map. He's not sure what kind of misle Ra's just shot, but it's traveling fast, and he feels like he needs to phone this in.

"Hey B, we may have an issue." )

[theanimeoftheblackbunnymask]

Yandere Fyodor and Dazai Compare and Contrast (How They'd Treat Their Darling)

Links: {Masterlist} {Yandere Fyodor Alphabet}{Yandere Dazai Alphabet} {Yandere PM!Dazai Alphabet}

Fyodor as a yandere is such an interesting concept.

Fyodor is a complex character who I believe is very hard to write and pull off.

He's deceiving in everyway of the sort, and I can see his darling having a hard time trying to figure him out. One day he can calm and quiet, and the next day he's sadistic and a bit more temperamental than yesterday.

I can see him acting like this as a way to keep you on edge. He isn't bipolar by any means, but he enjoys seeing the uncertainty on your face, the constant worry that a single slip up can through him into a frenzy, or he'll not even react and just let you deal with it on your own.

This is kinda where I compare him to Dazai. Dazai is very switchy in the same way, but he's a lot more consistent. Dazai rarely changes his behavior, but he actively changes his reactions, his actions often contradicting his personality. This is where being Dazai's darling become stressful because you'll think you know how he'll act, but in reality he'll react in a way that's completely out of character.

Fyodor and Dazai are full of mind games. Fyodor would rarely hits his darling. He finds it much more satisfying to see you stress your own self out, terrified of what he'll say or do to you, watching as you break down and pathetically try to hide yourself from his presence.

Dazai is sadistic, but not as much as he was when he was in the Port Mafia. He hates the idea of physically hurting his darling, and when he does he sinks into regret.

Now, where would they keep you?

I can actually see Fyodor bringing you along in his endeavors, and maybe even get you involved as a spy if you're powerful enough. I don't see Fyodor keeping you a secret from the ADA, and often uses you as a way to mock them, saying how they can't even save you. You're often viewing all his plans, and if a mission is a little too dangerous for his liking, he'll hide you in a place that you can't escape from.

Now, Dazai is more of an abusive boyfriend type yandere. He let's you like your normal life, go to work, hang out with friends, go to the mall, normal civilian stuff, but, he's watching you the entire time. You slip up once, and you'll deal with it at home. Dazai doesn't want to keep you in doors 24/7, but he also doesn't want you to leave him. You tell anyone about the horrors of your relationship, and you're left crying on the floor of the bathroom, the door locked as Dazai threatens you from the end. I also want to note, Dazai rarely if ever yells at you. The low and coldness in his voice is enough to throw you into tears.

So, who would be the worse to deal with full time?

Fyodor, here's why.

Dazai gives you a lot of freedom, much more than the average yandere, so you can live a mostly normal life. With Fyodor, you're stuck with him 24/7. He won't let you go anywhere by yourself, and has killed a few of your friends and family. So, if you did escape, you wouldn't last very long, and you wouldn't have anyone to support you.

The one good thing about Fyodor is that he's a pretty good balance of giving you false hope, and shutting your dreams down completely.

I do have one idea though. What would happen if you were acting as a spy for Fyodor, not for the ADA, but maybe for a powerful figure Fyodor wants something from, and you end up running into Dazai. It's one of the rare times you're alone, so I wonder how things would go.

[fettuccin-e]

The Wonderful Way Things Change

A/N: hi there everyone... shamefully, very shamefully, I have not posted anything original since i think like february. it was an unplanned hiatus! promise it was completely unplanned, this semester just really kicked my ass lol. BUT HERE WE ARE! with matt smut of course how could I not because he is the loml so please enjoy! love you!

Description: Based off this ask, and can be read as a loose sequel to this (my first ever fanfic oh boy oh boy). In which Foggy calls you to check in on Matt, and the sight of your boyfriend all disheveled in a suit is making you a tad desperate. Thankfully, neither of you have the self-control to keep your hands to yourselves.

Tags: Matt Murdock x Reader, afab!fem!reader, no use of y/n, smut like so much smut who do you think I am, fucking Matty in a suit, oral (f!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids) (w/c: 2.5K)

Yours and Matt’s relationship is new, somewhat, but you both know that it’s been a long time coming. It’s only been a few weeks since he finally kissed you for the first time, since he healed your poor, pining heart. It’s not like other relationships you’ve had, with the talking stage at the beginning, where you’re still asking each other about your childhoods, favorite movies, and songs. You and Matt already know everything about each other.

He knows about your shitty job that you hate but manages to pay the bills. He knows all about your childhood, all of your hopes and dreams. Up until a few weeks ago, the only secret you’d kept from him was your frankly ridiculous crush on him.

But you know that it’s the same way for him. You already know about Daredevil, and to Matt’s unending surprise, you accept him, love him for who he is. You don’t want him to give up either side of himself; you’re happy to just have him. Matt is still trying to get used to the feeling of actually having you, instead of just being by your side, letting you slip through his fingers.

Up until a few weeks ago, Matt had resigned himself to only being your friend. The friendship he’d found in you at Columbia would remain just that. Unbeknownst to him, you’d resigned yourself the exact same way. But a misunderstanding and a frustrated and ridiculously dramatic love confession later, you’d finally kissed him like he’d only dreamed of. You’d allowed him to touch you like he’d always wanted, and Matt could swear that he’s never felt anything softer, never tasted anything sweeter than you.

So the relationship is new, but it also feels like you and Matt have just been waiting, settling into routines like you’ve been together for years. You know how Matt is, how he’ll bury himself into cases and recordings and court documents, searching for that one bit of evidence that proves his client is innocent. He sends Foggy and Karen home on nights like these, insisting that they need to sleep, that they work too hard as is.

“He’s gonna be there for hours,” Foggy tells you over the phone. “You’ve gotta get him out of there or he’s going to collapse.” You laugh, pulling on your coat and stepping out of Matt’s apartment. 

Ever since you had both confessed your feelings for each other, and Matt had finally, finally taken you to bed, you had more or less moved in. It hadn’t been intentional, nor had Matt officially asked you, but the one time you had broached the subject of maybe sleeping at your own apartment, Matt’s arms had wrapped around you, holding you to him while he pressed desperate kisses all over your face and neck, telling you that his apartment was so cold without you there.

“C’mon, sweetheart, haven’t we spent more than enough time apart?” he had murmured, and you had agreed.

“Yeah, alright Fog, I’m heading over there now. I’ll make sure you have a well-rested partner by tomorrow,” you giggle into the phone, and you laughed even harder at Foggy’s genuine sigh of relief.

“Christ, how did Nelson, Murdock and Page survive without you and Matt together?”

“It’s truly a mystery, Foggy,” you tease, and Foggy laughs with you. He keeps you on the phone the entire walk to their office building, filling you in on the cases he, Karen, and Matt are working on. You could talk to Foggy for hours, really, but he lets you go as you walk up the steps to their offices. With a promise to talk soon, maybe take a trip to Josie’s, you hang up, shoving your phone into your coat pocket.

You can hear the recording Matt is listening to through the door to his office, some judge droning on and on. You enter the room quietly, heart beating wildly at Matt in his sharp suit, without his glasses, hair mussed from his fingers running through it the way they usually do when he’s working through a case. You watch as a smile blooms across his pretty lips, his eyes lifting to your direction as he pauses the recording.

“Hi, baby,” he says, and his sheer beauty in that moment nearly brings you to your knees. This man, with his hair sticking up in every direction, his tie slightly loosened at his chest, big brown eyes and wide smile is yours. All yours. You can’t help how your heart beats even harder at the thought.

You watch his grin meld into a knowing smirk as he listens to the quick pattering of your heartbeat. “Something got you worked up, sweetheart?”

You hum, crossing the room to where he sits in his office chair. “Oh, you know,” you drawl, trying to keep your voice coy and light, even though you know that your heart is giving away your sudden desperation for the man in front of you. “I’m just thinking about all of the things I get to do now.”

“To me?” He’s playing coy too, trying to goad you.

“Always to you, Matty,” you giggle, and he chuckles in return. You swing a leg over his lap, straddling him and relishing in how his chuckle morphs into a choked gasp. 

“What- What kinds of things, gorgeous?” his voice is breathier now, beautifully affected by your actions.

“Just how I can do things like this,” you wrap your hand into his tie, tugging him towards your mouth. “And things like this-” you breathe over his mouth, before capturing his pretty, enticing lips with your own.

Matt groans into the kiss, smoothing his hands over your hips before reaching behind you to grab your ass in his big, thick hands, tugging you further up his lap. Your clothed pussy rests just over the bulge of his cock through his slacks, and you can feel it thickening beneath you. 

“And you call me worked up, Matty?” you murmur against his mouth, wiggling in his lap and pulling a soft moan from his lips.

“When my gorgeous girlfriend walks into my office, smelling like my apartment and so fucking soft on top of me,” he says, squeezing your ass again, “how can you expect me to be calm, baby?”

Your stomach bursts into butterflies at the title. You’re his girlfriend. He’s your boyfriend. It feels so very juvenile, like you’re twenty years old again and still trying to get through calculus class. Maybe it’s because you’ve been waiting that long. Waiting for him, since you first met him and Foggy at Columbia. It feels so far away now, so different, and yet, you still burn bright and warm with Matt’s attention on you. Calling you his girlfriend.

He shifts his hips under yours, the bulge of his thick cock against your pussy impossible to ignore, and you whine, just barely, but Matt hears. Of course he does.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs. “So fucking needy.” He lurches forward again to press his lips to yours, licking into your mouth. 

“Please, Matty,” you whisper, and he groans into your mouth all over again. He doesn’t separate his mouth from yours as he lifts you against him, using a hand to brush the cumbersome documents and files off the desk behind you, before laying you softly against it, running his hands over your waist and kissing you like you’re something precious. 

But you are, Matt knows that you are the most precious thing in the fucking world. And you want him. Matt can hardly believe it sometimes; he still sometimes thinks he’s dreaming when he feels you in the morning, pressed tight against him, your heart calm and steady with sleep.

He licks into your mouth like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, and what a way to go. He could stay in this moment forever, kissing you while your hands tangle into his hair. But your sexy little whines are echoing around him, your hips moving in desperate little circles against the aching bulge in his slacks.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he whispers, and you just whine louder. It’s a nearly painful thing, taking his lips from yours, but he can fucking smell your arousal, and the need to dive between your thighs is suddenly too much for him to handle. 

You kind of want to cry when Matt breaks your kiss, but your mourning at the loss of his lips is quickly cut short by his thick, calloused hands pushing your skirt up your thighs, leaving the material to bunch around your waist. He nudges his nose against your clit through your panties, taking a deep breath in through his nose, savoring it, and you nearly black out.

“Oh- oh my God,” you stutter, and Matt smirks in that ridiculously cocky way you hate that you love.

“I mean, I go by Matt, but if you want to call me God-” Matt starts, tugging your panties down your legs.

“Matthew Michael Murdock, I swear-” You want to continue, you really do, but it’s really hard to keep your train of thought when Matt is leaning down and licking a long stripe up your soaked pussy, swirling around your clit and making your hips buck up uncontrollably. He quickly braces a forearm over your twitching body, holding you still with his strength while he eats your pretty cunt.

“So fucking wet for me, gorgeous,” he mutters between your thighs, the vibrations feeling like shockwaves up your spine. “So pretty, baby, could’ve been eating this pretty cunt since college.”

You can barely form a sentence, only able to utter out whines of Matt, Matt Matt, between desperate moans as he licks into you. You can feel him grinning into your cunt, knowing he’s driving you fucking crazy, before he’s drawing up to capture your throbbing clit into his mouth and sucks. He brings his free hand up to sink a thick finger into your needy entrance, crooking it up and pressing into a spot inside that makes white creep into the edges of your vision. He just sucks and sucks, swirling his tongue around our achy clit and playing with you like a toy.

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train, unexpected and brutal, and you would have thrashed off the desk if it weren’t for Matt’s strong arms holding you steady. He carries you through it, licking at you softly while he keeps his finger inside, giving your pussy something to clutch onto. As your hips finally stop twitching, Matt rises, leaning over you again, and you can’t help but tug at his tie again, dragging his mouth to yours, uncaring of the taste of your pussy covering his lips.

“Please fuck me, Matty, oh god, please. Need you in me, baby,” you whine, and you can’t find it in yourself to be embarrassed at how needy you sound. Matt groans, sounding just as desperate as he licks into your mouth. He takes his hands from your body to reach down, undoing his belt and slacks just enough to tug his aching cock out. He’s so hard it’s nearly painful, the head sticky and red and throbbing with the need to fuck you. To claim you.

You wrap your arms over his back, tucking your head into the crook of his neck as he sinks into your sensitive pussy. As he finally bottoms out, you lean back to look at him, at his big eyes staring just off your face, his mouth slightly agape.

“I thought about this, y’know,” you whisper, your nails digging into his back as he presses just a bit deeper inside. “Every time I brought you guys lunch, I-” you moan softly as Matt thrusts, hard and so fucking deep you swear you swear you can feel him in your guts. “I thought about you, fucking me on this desk, in-in this fucking suit, god, Matt.”

“Shit, baby,” he grunts, rocking into you so hard the desk rattles beneath you. You can barely pay attention to it, not when the tip of Matt’s thick cock is grinding into the spot inside you that makes you scream, your nails digging into the soft fabric covering his back. “I thought about you too, god, you have no idea, sweetheart.” You can only whine in response as he continues, “You’d bring us all lunch, wearing your little uniform, fuck, with that pretty skirt and those heels.”

Matt’s hands tighten over your hips, forcing you to meet him thrust for thrust, and it’s so fucking good. You can’t manage to answer him through your desperate whines of his name and choked moans as his thick cock stretches you out for him, but Matt’s still talking. You don’t know if he can stop.

“I could hear your thighs brushing together under that tight fucking skirt, your heels clicking up the hall, and all I could think about was ruining you. Ripping that skirt off you and making you beg for my cock,” he grunts, driving desperately into your soaked pussy. Your head is swimming, drowning in Matt’s words, his scent, his cock.

“Now I can, baby,” he grunts, voice breaking on a choked moan. “I can fuck you just how I’ve wanted, make this pretty pussy soak my cock. Can wake up to you in my bed, fuck you whenever I want, whenever you want, baby, fuck I’m yours. You hear me, angel? I’m yours.” Matt can feel your pussy fluttering desperately around his cock, and snakes a hand between your bodies to press a thumb over your clit. 

He leans over you, his tie loose and dangling over your face as he growls, “and you’re mine. Mine.”

And you’re gone, pussy tightening like a vice around Matt’s thick cock, screaming his name. Little tears escape your eyes, dripping down your cheeks as Matt groans your name in return, hips stuttering into yours and flooding your overwhelmed pussy with his cum. You can hear him, just barely, through the roar of blood in your ears as he whispers, “So good, baby, so perfect. Love you so much, so much, you have no idea. I love you, loved you for so fucking long, angel.”

You bring your hands up to tangle your fingers into his soft hair, bringing him to your lips, whispering a soft “I love you so much, Matty,” in return before meeting him in a soft kiss. His smile against your mouth is blinding, endlessly joyful, and slightly delirious.

He’s still buried inside you a few minutes later, when you finally whisper, “I’m not sure this is what Foggy had in mind when he sent me over here.”

“If this is what Foggy had in mind, I might have to send him a fruit basket, or buy him a round,” Matt chuckles, and you smack him lightly on the shoulder before you’re laughing too. Matt smiles, unable to believe that you’re his, before he cuts your giggling off with a loving kiss.

[pamelasmuse]

You Are In Love

Dbf!James Potter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You get caught in the shower with James.

Warnings: Light smut, angst and like fluff. Also not proofread.

A/N: This is based of a childhood movie of mine. Can anyone guess it? (Hint it is 2 words and starts with J) Also you are so lucky this fic saw the light of day bc the 1st time I wrote it I didn’t save it and the 2nd time I deleted it on accident.

You felt like you were in a dream. Something you had fantasized about for months now. Not having to hide. Your dads would hate to see you with someone older, not to mention someone married, and that someone was their best friend James Potter.

Your dads were in London with Harry and James wife (soon to be ex) was in Scotland. So you had absolutely nothing to worry about. You were so happy so happy you could finally date like a normal 19-year-old.

you smile and look down at the pink milkshake in front of you. Breakfast was your favorite meal, because you could order super sugary items.

“How is your childish breakfast?” he asks, you smile at him. “ you better be careful who you’re calling a child, James because if I recall correctly, you were inside me less than 30 minutes ago.” You pause for dramatic affect. “ I’m pretty sure that’s against the law.” Now you’re the one smiling

James is a little embarrassed, but he takes it in good fun. You motion to his matching strawberry milkshake. “ if mine is so childish, then why did you order one?” James looks down and smiles.

“ because I know you.” he stops. “ I know that you wanted a milkshake for breakfast and that you wouldn’t order one if I didn’t order one.” Your heart swells with love and happiness that you have finally found someone who gets you who loves you.

“Aw thank you” you smile you look at him for a while just memorizing his face thinking about how amazing he is “daddy” you add. Now it’s James turn to react his face is red with embarrassment and he’s coughing.

It wasn’t a uncommon for you to call him daddy, but it was in common for you to call him that outside of the bedroom. “ not here.” he warned gone with his loveing tone now it was replaced by a stern mean man you didn’t know

“ I’m sorry daddy” you smiled. To anyone passing by it just seems like an innocent smile, but James knew you, and he knew that you were starting some thing. Just then the waitress came over and in that same movement you had slipped off your shoes and one of your feet had started running up the seem of James pants.

James can think straight maybe that was the lack of blood circulating his brain since it all had bled to his lower half. “ did we enjoy everything” you and James nodded to the lady. He handed her some cash, his hands shaking, because at that moment you’re toe had touched the tip of his boner

“ keep the change” James yelled just wanted to get out of there. And she turned around he got up. “ come on.” He yelled at you. When you finally stood up, he grabbed your forearm pushing you towards the door.

“Ow that hurts” you whined. James laying down breathing into your ear. “ well, maybe you should’ve thought about that, princess because now I think you need punished.” You tried to hide your smile as he escorted you out.

* * *

When you had finally reached James and Lili’s townhouse, he pushed you inside, and then the door was shut he push you against it. His lips immediately attacked yours. It’s like he was sucking your air.

He began to kiss down your neck until he reached your(his) shirt, he pulled it off quickly, revealing the pink bra you had worn the night before. It was a surprise for him a surprise, and a thank you for having the house to yourself, and it made him harder

He kissed on your chest until he got to the top of your boobs, then undud your bra. He sucked on your nipple, causing a few moans. You pulled back for a second pulling off his shirt.

He grabbed your hips. Pulling you in and kiss you harder. “ this isn’t much of a punishment.” You quip he looks down at you smiling. “ I promise princess we will get to that.”

He starts to push you towards the stairs. You are halfway up when he finally discard his pants. Then you start to work on yours. But then you hear the door knob start jingle and you here, an all to familiar voice.

“ James” you hear your dad yell. You look at James your face panicked. You start to run up the stairs but you trip on your jeans James picks you up rushing you to the nearest room.

When you are safe in side, you start to listen. You can hear your dad mumble probably confused why there are so many clothes on the ground. But then you hear a smaller voice.Harry.

And finally you can hear your dad “ why don’t you run upstairs and use the bathroom, then we will go.” You look like a James finally surveying the room, you are in, the bathroom.

“ he’s going to come in here” you whisper yell at James. He was thinking quick he moved you into the shower. “ What are you doing?” James hurried in with you. He put a a finger over your mouth, his hands snaked behind you turning on the water. You try to protest but he kisses you to keep you quiet.

He finally pulls back “ we’re just gonna pretend I’m taking a shower”. He winks you. It feels like an eternity when you finally here a little knock. “Daddy?” You hear little Harry say. “Yes?” James calls out. “ I need to use the restroom.” Harry says.

“ OK son just hurry.” James says he looks down at you and your soaked clothes. Any smiles you hear Harry open the door and lift up the toilet. He does his business and Just then James calls out “don’t flush” but it’s too late he’s already done it in a matter of seconds you can feel the burning hot water hit your back

“Ow fuck” you scream out. James hurries and put his hands over your mouth pleading with you Harry stand back, looking at the shower curtain. “Daddy? Is mommy in there?” James is frantic, trying to think of what to do.

“No just me” he yells back. He shakes his head and walks to the curtain trying to open it you quickly try to pull it back, but it’s no use. Harry Pulls it open, revealing his dad in boxers and you in just jeans. You quickly cover your chest.

Just standing here knock on the bathroom door as if this couldn’t get any more mortifying and awkward. “ come on Harry we don’t have all day.” And then you hear the door open near met with your father is modified look as he sees you, his little girl with his best friend. 

❤️😭😬⚠️

[thelovelylolly]

Hobie gotta beat a mf up cause they stared being a misogynistic asshole to his girl🙏🏽🙏🏽

Problem?

Summary: You start your dream job as a journalist, only to have a sexist co-worker and your boyfriend won't let that slide. Warnings: a misogynistic man (icky icky), fem! reader (she/her pronouns used), not proof read bc im tired, let me know if i missed anything :) Notes: hobie would NOT let that behavior slide period

You loved your job. It was your dream since middle school to be a journalist at one of the top news companies. It was everything you wanted, and more. You had the freedom to investigate what you wanted, when you wanted. You had control over how your stories looked in the paper and online, and you weren't as censored as other places were. It was perfect, except one thing.

Your co-worker, James, wasn't the most...welcoming to you or your ideas. You preferred stories about everyday people doing good things in your community, or focusing on local and small businesses. He thought that your stories weren't as gripping or enticing as they needed, and told you to try harder.

At first, you thought it was just because you were a new employee. But when his targeted critiques didn't stop, you realized it was something else. He wouldn't say the same things to your male counterparts. He also didn't respect your assistant, a sweet girl who needed a job during college. He treated her like garbage, which pissed you off even more.

You had a meeting with all the journalists to get updated on what everyone was investigating and reporting on. When you stood up and explained what you were doing, a simple piece about a bakery owned by a sweet lady and her girlfriend, James rolled his eyes and leaned over to his buddy to whisper something.

"I'm sorry, James, but I'm talking right now. You whispering is distracting me and getting me off track, I'd appreciate if you'd stop," you said calmly, trying to call him out as well.

He sighed dramatically. "Oh, I'm sorry, sweetheart. Didn't mean to hurt your precious feelings."

You wanted to slap him, but you took a deep breath and went back to what you were talking about.

----

You kicked your door shut behind you and dropped your things next to it. "Hobie, I'm home!"

You walked into your living room where Hobie was on the couch, tuning his guitar. He looked up and smiled, immediately setting his guitar aside and going over to you.

"Hey, love, how was work?" He asked, pressing a kiss to your cheek and giving you a hug.

You grumbled and hid your face in his neck.

"That bad, huh?"

You pulled away from him, pacing up and down the room. "It's my god damn co-worker! He doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut! All he does is criticize me and belittle me, along with the other women in the office, but not with the guys! That sexist piece of shit! It's just...I hate it and I can't do anything with causing a HR nightmare, and I don't wanna lose this job, Hobie. It means so much to me and I…I just can’t lose it.”

You stop and wipe the frustrated tears that had slipped down your cheeks. You look at Hobie and give him a wobbly smile. “‘M sorry, didn’t mean to explode on you like that.”

“Don’t apologize, babe. You’re frustrated, I get it,” he replied, walking over to you and running his hands up and down your arms soothingly. “How ‘bout we order your favorite take out, yeah?”

“And we can watch my favorite movie?”

“Anything you want, love.”

----

On his patrol as Spider-Man, Hobie kept his eye out for your…problematic co-worker. He didn’t know what the guy looked like, but he could figure it out. He swung by your office and took a look inside.

There was only two people left, a man and a woman. He was at his desk, sipping some drink and yelling at the poor woman who was just trying to organize some files. He eyed her like a piece of candy and yelled at her for putting the papers in the wrong place. Then, he stood up and grabbed his things before heading to the door.

Bingo.

Hobie swung down to the front doors of the building and waited for the man to walk out. A few minutes later, the man strolled out on the phone.

“Exactly, Tim. I don’t get why she got hired. She just does some stories with zero…what’s the word, content to them? I don’t know, it’s just a matter of time until she gets hit with reality. She even had the nerve to stand up to me-“

“Pardon me, mate,” Hobie said, catching the man’s attention.

The man froze at the sight of Spider-Man, hanging up the phone. Hobie glanced at his badge and saw his name.

“James, is it? Well, I heard you were giving the women you work with some grief.”

“W-what do you want?” James stuttered.

Hobie started to back him into a corner. “You know how Spider-Man believes in…fairness and what not?”

“Y-yeah?”

“Well, I believe your attitude isn’t very fair to your co-workers.”

“Listen, man, I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I-“

Hobie didn’t let him finish, giving him a shove back to cut him off.

“Consider this your warning, James,” Hobie said in a low tone. “Stay away from my girl, and you won’t see me again.”

With that, he swung away, leaving James shaking like a leaf.

----

The next day, when you got home from work, you immediately went to Hobie. He was in the kitchen, fixing some dinner for the two of you.

“Hey, babe, how was work?” He asked, putting his spoon down and going to you to give you a kiss on the cheek.

“It was…good. James didn’t bother me at all, or any of the girls, actually. It was weird, but I’m not complaining.”

Hobie hummed and went back to his cooking. You tilted your head to the side, confused at his reaction. You hopped up onto the counter next to where he was working.

“Hobie…did you do something?” You asked.

“What? Nah, I don’t even know this guy,” he answered.

"Hm, okay," you said. You hopped off the counter, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and went to get changed.

Hobie smiled to himself, knowing that James wouldn't mess with you anymore.

[its-time-to-write]

i hold it like a grudge - ch. 5

I don’t know why this fic wrecked me so much. I’m literally the author. I know what’s gonna happen. I decided what’s gonna happen. Maybe I’m just tired. also does anyone remember that time I said I hated writing chaptered fics and swearing that each one was an anomaly/the last time I’d ever do it?

table of contents you’re still everything to me

Jamie Tartt is in your kitchen, puttering around so he can make a pot of tea and with an eyebrow slit like it’s 2013 again.

He sent you to go change so you slip on sweatpants and curl up on the sofa.

“Here you are, love,” he says, setting the tea down on the coffee table. He sits on the opposite end of the sofa, a respectable distance away.

“Why didn’t I see you?” you ask, staring out the window. The room is illuminated by the streetlight glow from the kitchen.

“How d’you mean?” responds.

“I visited mum last year. I was there all day. Why didn’t I see you?”

Jamie pauses. “I went early.”

“No, no you didn’t. There weren’t any flowers when I got there, and you said you brought her flowers.”

He’s quiet long enough for you to turn and check if he’s even still in the room.

He is.

“I… saw you,” he says eventually. “Didn’t think we’d be there at the same time, but-” he raises an eyebrow as punctuation. “Anyway, I was behind a tree. Saw you sit down and at first I thought I’d just wait in the car, but you started crying and- and I didn’t know if I should say somethin’ or leave. Did neither, so I just stayed. Placed the flowers and paid my respects once you left.”

You sip your tea in silence.

After a long time you say, “I’m glad you didn’t say anything.”

“She always believed in me,” he says by way of reply. “Even when I was being a little shit, she still made me feel like she wanted me around. Three people I want to make proud the most were her, mummy, and you.”

“Wanted,” you correct. “Wanted to make proud. Mum’s gone, and we’re not even friends.”

“D’you think we ever could be?”

You consider. There’s a part of you that feels like you’re friends already. He’s in your flat for fuck’s sake. 

“I don’t know,” you say. “Honestly I don’t. I’ve only ever loved you, Jamie, and for a long time I couldn’t see the future without you. I still can’t see it, I’m just living day-by-day sometimes.”

He chews his lip. “How can I make it up to you?”

He’s asking all the hard questions tonight.

“I don’t hate you anymore,” you say frankly. “You were there for me when I needed you, and you leaving me was the worst. But it turned out good. And, I dunno, over the last few days I just keep wondering what’s gonna stop you from leaving again? Deciding you want someone else more, or my value means less?”

“Maturity.” He says it slightly drawn out, enunciating the consonants. He has a hint of a smile, which is stupid, because now you have one too.

“Seriously, though, I’m not like that anymore. Went of, was a prick, and it were shit. I’ve never heard mum that mad at me, Jesus Christ. Swore my ear off, she did. Didn’t have real friends, wasn’t happy, drank a lot of vanilla vodka. Keeley broke up with me for cheating on her, too, but not with sex, like; just on a date. Said shit about accountability.” 

He says it the same way he said maturity. 

“Hm,” you say. What else is there to say, really?

“Hm,” you say again as you reach to set your tea down and move to the other end of the couch so you’re pressed up against Jamie’s side.

He wraps his arms around you and pulls you close.

“Stay the night?” you whisper. “I don’t want to be alone and I have a guest bed.” 

Jamie nods.

—

It’s 3am, and you wake up with the sound of your mum saying your name still echoing in your room. You’d been dreaming, showing her the life you’d created and she’d smiled the whole time. She wasn’t wispy, she was the same mum who kicked a football with Jamie, sang horribly off-key with Simon, and convinced Georgie to even give him a chance in the first place. 

Tears pool in the corner of your eye.

I am not drowning. I can do this.

There’s a light tap on the door. “Come in,” you croak.

Jamie pushes it open and sticks his head in. “You’re crying,” he states. “Woke up a minute ago feeling shitty.”

You pat the bed and roll over.

Jamie climbs in under the covers and reaches tentatively for your hand. You let him take it.

“Just because I’m emotionally fragile does not mean that I forgive you,” you tell him tearfully. “I’m just pretending you never left and everything’s fine so I’m not going to hate myself for letting you into my room and letting you see me cry.”

“Alright,” he whispers. “C’mere. We’ll forget about it in the morning.”

You both move closer under the covers. You blame sleep and grief for the kiss you press to his clavicle, and you’re sure you’re dreaming they way he murmured, “How the fuck did I ever leave you?”

—

Jamie is true to his word. He doesn’t say a word when you wake up, just extricates himself from your hold and goes downstairs.

“I’ll be here for today,” he tells you once you drag yourself out of bed. “After that, you can decide how you feel about me. You don’t have to think about it today.”

It’s a four-hour drive to Manchester, and you’re not sure when it was decided that a) Jamie was coming with you, or b) that he’d be the one driving. He stops to pick up breakfast and coffee and doesn’t say a word about eating in his fancy car. You stare out the window and let the music playing over the speakers flow over you. It’s still raining, less than last night but still heavily. 

You grip Jamie’s hand with white knuckles and cry, truly cry in a way you only allow once a year but this time, there’s a new component.

I could’ve had this, you think. You and Jamie, together.

Something new tugs at your chest and you turn to look at Jamie. Tears have gathered in the corners of his eyes, and he’s sniffling a but, trying not to let it show. 

You readjust in your seat so you’re leaning against his arm, and he tilts his head to rest on yours for a fraction of a moment. 

—

Your mum’s place is the same as it always is. Her name, printed in rounded letters. The dates, signifying that she did not spend enough time here. You place down your blanket and sit, back against the headstone as usual with your head tilted up to the sky. Jamie stands a good distance away, just watching with his hands shoved in his pockets. 

“Hi mum,” you begin, voice cracking. “Um, I’m sorry I don’t get up here much. But that’s what kids do, right? Leave the nest and only visit on holidays. 

Things are going well still. I’ve gotten offers for collabs with some brands, so I guess that’s cool. Jamie’s here, he’s by the tree though. I don’t- I don’t know what to do about it, mum. I wish you were here. You always saw things clearer than any of us, and I just don’t know. Turns out I didn’t ever stop loving him. Keeley thinks we have this weird cosmic connection or something. Do you believe in that? I think you might have. 

I- I think we’re going to see Georgie and Simon after this. I don’t really know. I haven’t been thinking straight today, you know. I just miss you.  I want to hug you again and I promise I’m okay on my own, it’s just hard sometimes. I thought- I thought-”

You’re unable to get the rest of the words out. It’s fucking sunny out and it feels wrong, like the world should remember this is a day to mourn a soul who should’ve been around longer. The sky should at least have the decency to cry along with you. 

A hand touches your face to wipe away a tear. You wrap your arms around Jamie’s neck and he just holds you for a minute, an hour, a year. Time might be passing but you’re unaware of it. He’s whispering in your ear, saying, “I’ve got you, it’s alright love, take as much time as you need,” but it’s only sounds to you. Sweet sounds, but not comprehensible words. 

It’s safe, here. It shouldn’t be, here on your mother’s grave with your cheating ex-boyfriend in your arms, but it doesn’t feel like that. 

It feels more like you’ve finally arrived home after years of travel. 

Jamie feels the same as he did before he made it to the Premier League, back when he’d nick flowers from a garden and climb through your window late at night, not like the prideful boy who broke your heart in five minutes over the phone. 

“I’m here as long as you need,” he murmurs, and you believe him. 

You pull away slightly to look him in the face. “I love you,” you say. 

He smiles, but only with his eyes as he swipes a thumb under your eye. “I love you too,” he says. “Don’t think I ever really stopped.”

It’s at that exact moment that the sun disappears behind a cloud and it begins to rain. 

table of contents

[soyeonsbabygirl]

Hear me out

So y/n broke up with her boyfriend not long ago, and minnie (g!p) tried her best to see her smile again, happy and all cute again. But nothing worked she cried every night in her arms how she hated her ex boyfriend and how she wishes she never met him, she hated that. She hated that her bestfriend cried so much over a stupid men, so she took her way and made her feel like she's the most important person in the world in that moment. She made sure to make her feel good and to forget about that stupud ex boyfriend wich she did bc minnie showed her all the stars that he couldn't do, she fucker her with nothing but love and a promise to keep her bestfriend the happiest person in the world. But she couldn't keep her feelings anymore and she let them spit out like a river and thats when they became a thing

Or

Minnie fucking y/n roughly but with a care so that she forgets about her ex stupud boyfriend and she confess to reader

(i'm sorry i needed to send this request it's stuck in my head since yesterday)

-the mimin x reader anon (also can i be your 🦤 if it's not taken?)

Hi honey! Sorry it took me so long to reply to this but ofc you can be 🦤 Anon! (My first anon this is so cool whatt)

I can be a better boyfriend than him.

G!P Nicha Yontarak/ Kim Minnie x Reader

Minnie sighed as she heard you crying again. It had been 2 weeks since you and your boyfriend — who Minnie personally never liked — had broke up. He had cheated on you which caused you to break up with him. Minnie was upset to see you so upset but was happy that you had finally left him.

She had known for a while that he was a player but she never said anything since she loved seeing you happy contrast to how you were now.Ever since you guys had broken up she would hear you crying, especially at night which made her hate for him grow even more. She wanted to see you smile or better yet just forget him and date her.

She knew how to treat you better and knew what was best for you, she was your best friend but in her mind she was your girlfriend. I mean you guys have slept in the same bed cuddling more times than she could count and each time you guys would cuddle it felt more intimate than the last time even if that wasn’t the goal. You would always kiss her cheek sometimes being too close to her mouth almost as if you meant to kiss her, she would dream of how your lips would feel against hers multiple times often getting hard from just the thought. And when you wore her clothes it made her even crazier imagining multiple scenarios of you being hers and not having to share you with anyone else because you’d be hers and hers only.

One night she had enough, you were in her arms as she held you crying your eyes out. Sobbing saying how you weren’t good enough for him, how everything was your fault, you were just a terrible girlfriend. She got tired of it and grabbed your face kissing you, the kiss was filled with love and passion. She pulled away quickly when she realized what she did.

“I’m sorry- I-I should've asked first I didn't mean to-” before she could finish you pulled her back in to another kiss. This time it had more lust than passion, Minnie’s hands went under your shirt her cool fingertips against your hot skin sent shivers down her spine.

Her tongue dancing with yours as you guys made out on your bed. You both pulled away breathing heavily as Minnie flew to your neck applying kisses to it, you let out soft moans and sighs after each kiss she left. “M-Minnie…please..I need you so badly..” your voice was no louder than a whisper. Minnie smirked against your skin as she lifted your shirt off your body, moving down to kiss your collarbones muttering small praises about how pretty you were, how long she's been waiting for this, and how she loves you.

Minnie took your sweatpants off while you pulled her shirt off her body. “You know,” she said in between kisses “I can be a better boyfriend than him.” She pushed your panties to the side as she slipped a finger inside you smiling at how much you whined. She went back up to your face kissing your cheeks as she began to move her digit in and out of you.

You moaned with every thrust of her finger she made loving the feeling already getting obsessed with how her finger felt inside her. By the time she added a second finger she took in your facial expressions and how pretty you looked like this. Your reactions told her enough of how your ex treated you during sex, and it made her upset. She was gonna show you how much better she was as she sped up making your face contort to pleasure, your walls tightened around her fingers making you mewl.

She knew you were close but if anything that just made her speed up even more til she heard you let out a loud moan your orgasm coating her fingers as she pulled them out. She saw you panting with a wide eyed star struck look as if this was your first time and then came to another conclusion that upset her.

“He’s never made you orgasm? was that your first time ever orgasming?” your shy nod told her everything. The idea of her being the first one to make you orgasm made her harder than she already was, “fuck I need to be inside you right now.” she murmured.

You bit your lip as you looked at her “Do it. I want you to fuck me Minnie.” That was all she needed to hear. She immediately took her pants off as she rubbed her tip on your lips, “how many inches are you used to?” you were silent for a few minutes before answering “I think..5..” Minnie was a bit dumbfounded by this.

It made her feel happy that she was bigger than your ex boyfriend but also a bit astonished. Seriously what did you see him? it doesn’t matter now since she was gonna make you forget all about him. She pushed into you making you count each inch til she was fully inside you. She smirked as she saw your reactions, the way you gripped her hand trying to adjust to her size, the whiner your voice got the more she entered inside you, all of it was beautiful to her.

She was smiling when she saw you take all of her dick in your pussy, once she was sure that you were used to feeling of her inside her was when she started moving. Her hands gripped your hips as she fucked into you. “Fuck, you're so tight. Your pussy feels so fucking good.” you could barely respond only moaning as your vision blurred from each thrust. Minnie began taking up speed as she went deeper and faster inside you.

One of her hands held you down by her hips while the other groped your boobs roughly enjoying how they felt. She felt you get wetter and wetter with each thrust making her moans mix with yours, all the times she would hear you moan for your ex during sex she’d never heard you moan like this. She went rougher even as she felt you orgasm coating her dick, but she had no plans of stopping.

You began to cry from overstimulation as it felt like she had only gone faster when you orgasmed, at one point only driven by lust as she hooked her arms under your legs placing them on her shoulders. With this new angle, she was able to reach even more deeper inside you loving the new angle.

Your moans were so loud that anyone who were to step inside the apartment would be able to hear you guys , the sounds of her thrusting in and out of you echoed throughout the room as both of your moans got louder.

She watched as your walls began clenching on her cock indicating you were close, she was also close and got an idea as she leaned down to your ear “cum for me baby, cum all over my cock. I want us both to cum at the same time.”

She went faster and deeper til she moaned your name in ecstasy painting your insides white, she looked down at you as she stayed inside you slowing down her thrusts, at one point she pulled out a bit and looked at your face.

She was confused as she saw you had a weird facial expression but then saw your eyes squeeze shut tightly as a clear liquid shot out of you. Minnie had a shocked look on her face as she looked down at you. She just made you squirt. Not only was she the first person to make you orgasm but she was also the first person to make you squirt.

You were panting as you looked like you were about to say something but before you could Minnie latched her lips on your clit lapping up all your juices harshly sucking on your clit. You moaned loudly gripping the sheets and due to how sensitive you were you orgasmed again in her mouth as she lapped it all up.

She came up to your lips and kissed you as she laid down moving you to lay on her chest. Once you both caught your breathes she spoke, “Y/N, I’ve been in love with you for so long. I know you just got out of a relationship but can you please give me a chance?”

It was quiet for a few minutes which to Minnie felt like hours. You pecked her lips as you smiled. That was all she needed to hear as she held you impossibly closer to her.

-

This requested me think of boyfriend by Dove Cameron and now I can’t unsee it😵‍💫 I hope you liked the request lovey and I promise I’m working on that Mimin request💋💕

[enden-k]

(Sorry for the ramble but these 2 idiots have been stuck in my brain for days now)

Soo can we talk about the fact that after the meeting with Sunday, Ratio immediately asks if Aven is okay. Like my dude, you're still in the dream and are being watched, that's not how someone who just 'betrayed' another person  acts.

Also, Aven being the one who has to subtly correct Ratio (at least thats the interpretation im going with) reminding him that they still have to act like they hate each other. (They're both geniuses in completely different ways, textbook definition of book smarts vs streets smarts)

ALSO, dispite that slip up from Ratio, Aven still doubting whether Ratio was acting or not (someone get this man a hug and some therapy I swear)

Anyways, I love these 2 idiots, and I hope we get to see more of their dynamic, specifically outside Penacony, bc I suspect most of what we saw was an act to trick The Family, and their actual dynamic hasn't been shown that much

its in ratios nature to be so harsh and not filtering, its just ratio

to shorten it, hoyo literally made him a tsundere. he calls aventurine an idiot and cares about his wellbeing. HIS SHY FACE IS HIM LOOKING ANGRY AND AVERTING HIS EYES HHHHHDHHHH its all so obvious

my thoughts/short ramble abt their dynamic utc

while all that happened was aventurine and ratio acting and fooling everyone, i dont think much in their dynamic would change outside of it. ratio is harsh and sarcastic and angry and loud etcetc (not out of malice) but he does care at the same time so i see him keep up his usual ratio-typical behavior towards aventurine - altho softening, toning it down, especially when aventurine is clearly suffering/behaving differently than you usually see him (like when he asked him if hes okay or when he thought he offended him) but other times harsh as usual, maybe even more aggressive when aventurine does get under his skin what a tsundere

(also, when you pair him with aventurine, he says (in his usual harsh way) "take care of yourself, i dont need your concern" - i think this shows really nicely how his dynamic/feelings toward aventurine are - harsh and caring in the same breath, aventurine is self destructive after all)

anw yea ig i derailed a bit sorry. i think ratio raised his usual behavior by some lvls than he would usually treat aventurine to not raise suspicions, trying to come off like he doesnt care and like aventurine is an unpleasant annoyance

the cutscene where aventurine is about lie and sentence himself? the look ratio gives him?

when aventurine is about to open the box that will expose his lie and he looks up to catch ratios gaze before he turns away ?

maybe im thinking too much into it, theres also prob different ways to interpret this but their lingering gazes, like a silent exchange between them underneath that act and ratio turning away when he gets his answer-

and yea like u mentioned ratios acting, his behavior towards aventurine, being so good that even aventurine is doubting if its an act or his true feelings towards him (giving him that hug myself!!!!!!)

anw thats my (not organized) thoughts tho, maybe their dynamic does change to smth entirely different than what i babble abt here, who knows. anw cant wait to see them reunite and show more!!!

[caffeinetheif]

Greenhouse

Yandere! Daivolo x GN! MC

WC: 2.5k

Warnings: basically everything that involves yanderes, blood, heavily implied (but not described) minor character death, imprisonment of MC, implied forced cuddling/bed sharing, blood, mentions of paranoia and the feeling of being watched, some minor violence from MC towards Diavolo (let’s be honest he kinda deserves it), attempt at a non-consentual kiss

A/N: y’all I’m super sorry for the absense. Work and school has been hectic. The stress of prepping for a study abroad is taking its toll that’s for sure. As always, I hope you enjoy and let me know if I missed any warnings! The title is a little cryptic, but I have my reasons for choosing it :)) Also, this was low key based off of a dream I had a while ago lol

“MC, darling,” a gentle voice rouses you from your peaceful slumber. It takes you a moment to remember where you are and who you are with.

Your mind reacts with panic. You’re still here, stuck in this cursed room with the demon who stole you away. The demon who faked your disappearance so he could keep you just for his own selfish desires.

“What, Diavolo?” you can’t help but let a bit of resentment slip into your voice. If there’s one thing that’s stayed the same after being snatched, it’s your distaste for being woken up.

The demon chuckles, “I apologize for waking you, dear, especially so late. There’s urgent business that I must attend to, but I promise I won’t be gone long!”

You glare at the back of Diavolo’s imposingly tall form as he stands up from your shared bed and dresses himself. If you had it your way, you wouldn’t even be here, much less sharing a bed with the Prince of the Devildom. You tried demanding your own room or bed when he first whisked you into his castle, but he laughed and told you that there was no need to be so stubborn.

Noticing your angry stare, Diavolo turns to you and smiles, “You can go back to sleep, MC. I know how much you hate being woken up.”

Diavolo restates that he’ll be back as soon as he can as he moves to press a kiss to your forehead. In a split second act of rebellion, knock your head into his chin as hard as you could without much of a windup. The demon doesn’t even flinch, but laughs instead.

“Still feisty as always!”

You think you see a flash of annoyance and disappointment in his honey gold eyes, but quickly flop back down in bed and turn your back to him. Maybe if he thinks you’re going back to sleep he will leave you be. You hear him bustle around the room a bit more before hearing his boots move towards the door.

That damn door! It locks from the outside and Diavolo has the only key. No matter how much you destroy the room searching for the key, you have never found where he keeps it hidden. The only idea you have is that it is somehow enchanted and bound to Diavolo in some way. Every time he enters and exits the room, he always locks the door behind him, which ruins your chances of any escape through it. Even the solitary window in the room is magically locked and indestructible to anything you throw or hit it with.

You hear the clicking of the lock becoming undone and the door opening. The door is shut quickly and you assume Diavolo has left. Time passes as you wait for the resounding ‘click’ of the lock sliding back into place. The sound never happens, your heart jumps with excitement at the prospect of Diavolo actually forgetting to relock the door in his hurry to attend to business. You quietly sit up and swing your legs over to stand. You move towards the tall solid wood door and listen for any notion that the prince is returning. You hear nothing for several minutes before you decide to test your luck.

Your shaky hand reaches out for the cold iron door handle and you slowly twist it. The inner mechanisms click and you wince as they echo throughout the empty room. Slowly, and ever so carefully, you push open the door. The hinges faintly groan but put up no fight.

The hallway outside is quiet. There is no sign of life from Diavolo or servants or maids. No footsteps or voices are heard. No demon is there to order you to stop or to get back in the room. There is no light coming from the hanging light fixtures or candle holders on the walls. The only light source is the gentle moonlight beaming in through the windows. The lack of life almost seems too good to be true, but it’s your only chance at escaping this hellhole.

Ever so carefully, you sneak out of the doorway. Twisting the handle, this time from the outside, you push the door shut so the hardware doesn’t alert anyone to the door being shut once more. You almost don’t believe that you’re out of that room. Before you begin the next phase of your escape, you look down the hall both ways. No one can see you leave, but that is an unlikely occurrence. So, you just have to out run them if you encounter anyone.

You start at a careful speed walk down the left hall. The paintings and portraits that hang along the wall seem to follow you with their eyes. A strong sense of foreboding urges you to move faster. A creak echoes from down the hall, and that’s all it takes for you to take off. You run down the ornate halls, ones that you had once admired. Now, they’re nothing but a mocking labyrinth and the paintings that adorn the walls mock you as you run. The tiled floor below does nothing to dampen the sound of your feet as your feet hit the ground.

Making turn after turn, you quickly find yourself lost in a state of panic and desperation. None of these halls look familiar and there is not a single living soul wandering around. No one is there to help you.

Or so you think. You make another turn and run face first into another person with a grunt. The force of the impact knocks you to the ground, but the other stays on their feet. You look up at the figure, the first living being you have encountered since arriving at the castle. He’s taller than you, but not tall by demon standards. He rubs at the spot on his chest where your head hit and he glances down at you in surprise.

“Huh?” he begins speaking, “there’s not supposed to be anyone in this wing of the castle, much less a human.”

Asking this demon, a servant of the castle, for help is a risky gamble, but one that you’re willing to take, “Please, you have to help me! I’m being held captive by Diavolo. Please, I need your help!”

The servant nervously glances around him, looking for any listening ears or prying eyes. He takes a shaky breath before saying, “You… you’re the reason Young Master has been acting strange.”

He sighs and looks like he’s contemplating something, “I shouldn’t. My Lord will have my head if he finds out I am helping you.”

Your gut drops, this is the first living being you have seen since you were brought to this wretched place! Is he really going to just… ignore you?

In a fit of desperation, you reach out and grab his sleeve, “Don’t leave me! I have to get out of here! I need to escape!”

Your outburst startles the demon and he shakes his head, “I didn’t say I was going to leave you. Follow me, and be quiet.”

Your heart leaps and you have to fight the urge to thank him, who knows if there is anyone listening. Turning on a dime, the servant walks through the decorative halls, making a number of right and left turns down other hallways. The two of you approach a ‘T’ shaped corridor and he seems to be attempting to remember something. Several seconds pass before he turns to the left option. 

The length of the hall is uncharacteristically dirty, with dust coating the vases and paintings. The only light present comes from the moon peering through the occasional window. The few paintings that have been long neglected seem to follow you with their gaze and you hurry to keep up with your guide’s long strides. 

Soon, the two of you finally arrive at a large, hardwood door. The demon quickly glances down the hall where you two just came from before flicking through his keyring. Finally, he stops once he finds a small, bronze key that matches the delicate hardware on the door and slides it into the keyhole. The key is twisted and you hear a dull click as the door is unlocked. The door creaks ominously as it is swung open to reveal a dusty, sparsely decorated room. 

The unnamed demon enters the room and motions for you to follow him inside. Once you do, he relocks the door and quickly walks towards a tall painting that hangs on the wall.

The servant glances back at you, “Help me move this painting. There’s an old passageway behind here that leads to the courtyard.”

The sound of his voice brings your attention and you hurry to help him. As you approach the demon, you notice the painting is a portrait of a very young Lord Diavolo and his father sitting together. Something about this painting doesn’t sit right with you, but you choose to ignore it in favor of helping the servant move the large painting. The two of you lift in tandem and he guides the heavy frame to the side, leaving an opening just wide enough for you to fit.

“This is where I Ieave you. The rest of your escape is up to you. I will do my best to cover your tracks.”

As you slip between the wall and the frame, you glance at the demon and whisper a gracious, “Thank you, for everything.”

The demon nods and shifts the painting back over the entrance to the passageway and darkness engulfs you. It seems more like a tunnel than anything, but it is wide and tall, clearly made for much taller and broader demons. The lack of light wouldn’t phase any demon who enters due to their superior vision in the dark, but you? You’re nearly blind and depend on the feeling of the wall at your side to guide you.

As you maneuver down the pathway, you can’t shake the feeling of being watched. You know it’s silly and chalk it up to the paranoia resulting from Diavolo’s constant hovering. Regardless, you pick up your pace, opting to ignore the burning sensation of the stone wall dragging against your hand.

You don’t know how long you walk for. Luckily, the secret tunnel doesn’t seem to have any alternate hallways and consists of a single, winding one that leads to your destination. The chilly air and cold stone walls seem to sap all the heat from your body and you begin to shiver. 

You finally see the moonlight beaming down at what you assume is the end of the tunnel. Glee fills you and you break out into a run as you grow closer to the light. The moonlight drifts down through a metal grate in the ceiling of the tunnel. It looks like it should be big enough for you to squeeze your shoulders through to get out. You stand under the grate and investigate the hardware. You don’t see any bolts or hinges on the grate that might hold it shut to your surprise. 

The only thing that poses an issue is the height of the exit. The tunnel was not constructed with human height in mind, leaving the only exit a great deal above your head. With your arm stretched straight up as far as you could go, you still aren’t able to touch the metal. Even rising to your tiptoes the piece of metal is just too tall for you to touch. 

With your heart pounding, you jump and swipe at the grate. The tips of your fingers brush against it. You jump and hit it again, and again, and again before the grate is dislodged far enough for you to be able to get your hand between the edge of it and the opening. With one more jump and a hard shove at the metal covering, the hole is completely uncovered. You mentally cheer, not wanting to give away your location to anyone who may hear.

It takes a couple more jumps for you to grasp onto the ledge securely, and at this point your arms and legs are exhausted. But you can’t give up, especially when you’re so close to being free! Just the feeling of the fresh air and cool breeze on your fingers is enough to spur you on. You bring your feet up against the stone wall as extra leverage to push yourself up and out of the hole. Adrenaline is one hell of a motivator. 

The breeze caresses your face as you roll onto the grass surrounding the outside of the hole. You want to laugh, cry, yell, whoop and holler at the feeling of finally being outside. How long has it been since you have smelt dirt? You never thought you would miss the stuff, yet here you are.

“Have you finished having fun? I must say, you made it quite far.” 

Your eyes snap open and your head shoots up to find the voice.

You see the one demon you are trying to escape. Diavolo, in all his glory, is crouching down a mere six feet away from the hole you just pulled yourself out of. The smile on his face doesn’t match the disappointment in his eyes.

A metallic stench fills your nose and brings your attention to Diavolo’s hands. Even with the moonlight projecting his silhouette and hiding most of him in darkness, you can still see the deep, ruby blood staining his hands. In the back of your mind, you know who it came from, but you don’t want to believe it. Lately, you find yourself not wanting to believe a lot of things.

Diavolo chuckles when he notices your eyes fixated on his hands, “It’s a shame, he was such a hard worker. To think such a dedicated servant would go behind my back to help you run away from me. Though, I do have several demons eager to replace him.”

No, no no no no! This can’t be happening! You didn’t even know his name, yet you find yourself grieving for the demon you just met.

Diavolo stands and a large, bloody hand wraps around your upper arm. He hauls you up like a sack of potatoes and ignores how you flinch and squirm at the feeling of the still warm blood seeping through your shirt. You can tell he’s furious as he moves to guide you back towards the castle.

“No, please, I just want to go home!” You panic, you can’t go back. If he gets you inside the castle again, you’re never getting out.

“Your home is here, MC. It’s here at my side where I can keep you locked away, where I can keep you safe!”

Anger surges through you and you kick and writhe, doing anything to get out of his grasp, “I’m not some object for you to own! I don’t belong to anyone, and certainly not you!”

Diavolo’s eyes narrow, and the aura he gives off is oppressive. Your brain screams at you to run, to get away, that Diavolo was dangerous. After all, he killed a demon in cold blood just because they brought you to an escape route.

“You were mine the day you arrived in the Devildom.”

[deandoesthingstome]

Hall Pass - Chapter 1

Paring: Henry Cavill x Reader (RPF)

Series Summary: You run into Henry Cavill at the start of a two-week house-sitting vacation. You had some previous plans. Some were ruined by your now ex-boyfriend. Some were made better. Guess by whom?

Series Warnings: I’ll be honest, this whole thing is just self-indulgent smutty fluff. Here’s what I offer: meeting, making out, and having sex with Henry Cavill (rpf). I’m probably NOT going to be adding chapter warnings unless I get a bug to re-write and something worms it’s way into the story that I wasn’t expecting.

A/N: I started this story shortly after the fiasco of The Witcher and Superman announcements. I thought about how great it would be to try and cheer him up a little. For the purposes of this story, he is single. No hate to anyone in his life right now, in whatever way you imagine that to be. I also understand if you do not read rpf. Feel free to scroll on by. I don’t need to hear about it.

This was going to be a looooong one-shot, but solicited feedback prompted me to break it up for you. 

Playlist: I will add to Spotify for each chapter.

Word Count: 3.1K 

"You've got to be fu..."

You barely had time to register the deep intonation of the same words you yourself were spouting when you glanced up from your phone screen just before walking smack dab into a 6'1" brick wall.

"...cking kidding me."

Your phone hit the ground with a clatter, though you knew it could sustain the impact. The best thing your as-of-this-minute ex had ever done was insist on the military grade phone case for your clumsy ass.

"I'm so sorry. Are you quite alright?"

"Oh, I absolutely should be the one apologizing," you responded, not even glancing up to check out the person from whom the sensual accent slipped as you knelt to retrieve your device. Had you done so, you would have noticed the shape blocking your way moving in the same general direction and probably wouldn't have bumped your head into his. Possibly.

"Oof! Oh dear..."

"My god, I am so clumsy! Please forgi..." you lost the rest of that apology as you raised your head and found yourself staring directly into the clearest blue eyes you'd know anywhere, the spot of brown, a dead giveaway.

"Cat got your tongue now?" A dazzling smile peeked out from behind a short, salt and pepper beard as firm hands gripped your shoulders to steady you. "May I help you up?"

It was all you could do to nod and soon you were standing once again, phone in hand, staring up at a face you would never in a million years dream might be found outside a Warhammer store in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere. You blinked a couple times, then clasped a free hand against your burning cheek.

"Thank you. And I'm sorry. I wasn't looking at all where I was going. Let me just get out of your way and let you get on with your day."

If the slight furrow in his brow didn't cause your mouth to salivate, the tiny lip pucker sure did.

"Well that's just it, isn't it? The reason I was in your way in the first place..."

"Oh, this isn't your fault..." you tried to interrupt.

"...is because this door appears to be locked and there's a hastily hand-written sign stating 'Emergency. Back tomorrow at 10.'"

You glanced to the side to confirm the statement as well as peel your eyes off the man in front of you, for fear he was seeing all the thoughts inside your head. Who were you kidding? He'd clearly already seen them, the way he returned a shy grin as he finished his explanation.

"Oh that sucks. Wonder what happened to Josh?"

"Who's Josh?” he asked, with a deadly raised eyebrow.

"The store owner. He's usually here everyday, late sometimes even. If he's not here, something is definitely out of sorts. Hope he's okay," you worried.

"Do you frequent the store often?"

"Me? Oh, no. I buy honey from Josh's wife and sometimes he keeps a few jars around the store for regulars. I was going to see if I could pick some up."

"So you're not a gamer then?" Was that a tinge of disappointment underneath the curiosity? No, why would there be?

"Um, noooo..." Dammit. You took a quick look around to see who might be with him, possibly about to wrangle him away, but there didn't seem to be anyone worried about an errant fan. "Look, I'm sorry, but aren't you...?"

"Aren't I...?" A cheekier version of his shy grin appeared and you were absolutely done for.

"Oh my god. Please, forgive me. I should get out of your hair."

"It's Henry," he offered a large hand in your direction.

"Henry Cavill," you whispered back, accepting the shake.

"That's so odd," he grinned, hand still clasped in yours as you continued to let him slowly raise and lower your arm, completely amazed it was even happening..

"Hmm? What's odd?"

"We appear to have the same name."

You laughed and offered your real name before ending the shake.

"Lovely to make your acquaintance," he smiled. "Were you that upset about missing out on the honey?"

"I'm sorry?"

"You appeared quite upset just now. It must be really good honey."

"Oh my god, it's the best," you gushed, excited to talk up your friend's business. "She makes a clover variety as well as orange blossom and both are phenomenal. Oh, but no, that's not, no, I hadn't seen the sign at all."

"Well something seemed rather upsetting."

"Oh, my, um boyf.., um," you stuttered, unclear why you were about to unload your personal shit on a Hollywood A-List celebrity.

"It's alright. I didn't mean to pry."

"Well, what are you doing all the way out here anyway? Surely, there's another location closer to the city. I mean, you were here for the convention, right?"

"Yes, well. You're not the only clumsy one. I blame these fat fingers," he waved a hand in front of your face and it was all you could do not to drool. "I ordered a special model online, thinking I could work on it during a brief hiatus, and thought I'd arranged to have it shipped to a store near my rental, but apparently I don't know the geography around here very well, and well, I guess I didn't realize there was more than one location in this area. By the time I noticed I tapped the wrong store on my phone, it was too late to change the order and I figured a drive might be nice."

"Well that's, um, that's really unfortunate. Are you staying in the city?" You checked your watch. "Oof, you're about to hit rush hour traffic. What a nightmare to have to go back in and then do the trip again tomorrow morning."

"Rush hour into the city this time of day?"

"It's rush hour in every direction back that way this time of day. Plus two lane roads most of the way. Dreadful. And you didn’t even get what you came for. Sorry!"

"Well, where are you headed this time of day?" Why was he chatting with you like an old friend? Surely, he had better things to get to.

"Oh, well, we're," nope, not 'we' anymore. "Um, I'm house sitting at another friend's farm for a few weeks. A nice little staycation while I celebrate my birthday and anniver...um, birthday."

"Oh, it's your birthday?"

"Week after next."

"Well happy early birthday."

"Thanks!" You couldn't possibly smile any wider and your cheeks were about to start hurting. Definitely not the feelings you thought you would be experiencing as you read the text messages from your boyfriend. Ex-boyfriend, you reminded yourself.

"Alright, well, I guess I should probably hit the road and get the rush hour over with."

You stared a little too long, wheels turning in your head. No. This is dumb. Don't open your mouth.

"Do you have some place you have to be tonight?" Way to go.

"Sorry?"

"Just, um. Okay, this is so awkward and I swear it's not a prank or publicity stunt or anything and I'm not a stalker..."

"Though you are beginning to worry me," he chuckled, with a conspiratorial nod of his head.

"If no one's waiting on you, you could stay the night at the farm with me. There's plenty of room. And that way you don't have to make the trip twice." The words were out of your mouth before you could even consider you might want to clear it with your friend. But who wouldn't want Henry Cavill staying under their roof?

"Oh. That's, um, that's certainly unexpected and not necessary at all."

"It's no trouble, really. I could just make a quick call..."

"Well, if you're sure..."

"One sec." You turned away to phone your friend and, leaving out the part about a text-message breakup, you secured permission to allow Henry Cavill into the house for the night. No arm twisting needed, just promises of a few photos. You were sure he'd oblige, after everything you'd seen and heard about his gentle and considerate way with paparazzi and fans.

"Okay, we're on. Only if you want, of course." Please say yes, please say yes.

"If you're sure?" That eyebrow would definitely be the death of you.

"Positive. Follow me?"

You headed back to your vehicle, loaded with packages of food and alcohol for the next two weeks. When you pulled out of your spot, you saw Henry in what must be a luxury SUV rental fall in behind you and you led him 30 minutes down the winding back country roads to Grouse Ridge Farm.

"I hope the gravel didn't do any damage," you called to him as you exited your very not luxury SUV "I tried to keep the speed low so I didn't kick back any rocks or dust your way."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. Can I give you a hand with your belongings?" he nodded toward the cargo hold.

"That's so kind of you, yes. Thank you."

You each grabbed several items from the back and you noticed Henry look off toward the barn as you headed up the wide front stairs of the wraparound porch.

"Are there horses on this farm?"

"Why, yes there are. Do you...oh, of course you ride! Would you like to see them?" You set your bags down to fish the house key out of your pocket and opened the door.

"I'd love to. Shall we put these groceries away first? And are you feeding an army?" Henry's laugh was so pleasing, not derisive or mean at all. Just genuinely cheery. You led him to the kitchen where he began to hand you items from coolers to place in the fridge while you chatted.

"Not that it's a terrible trek to the store, that's actually the other reason I stopped in town on my way out, and there are a few variety stores nearby as well, but when I'm out here, I love to just ... be out here. So I try to plan for most meals with an occasional night out at a local restaurant or two."

"Surely you can't eat all this by yourself though?"

Here we go.

"No, you're right. I wasn't actually meant to be alone here for two weeks. Along with my birthday, tomorrow was supposed to be my one year anniversary with my boyfriend but he bailed." You could feel tears welling. "Like, it's been a little stressful lately, because he's been away for business for a few months and he's promised to get back to visit on weekends when he can but that hasn't worked out so well and this was going to be like a reset for us and then he texted..."

"He did not break up with you in a text message?"

You nodded slowly, embarrassed at how ridiculous the whole thing sounded, but also at the well of tears still building and threatening to break free.

"What a complete and utter twat. Pardon my French."

That particular curse never failed to make you giggle, and so with relief you let out a cautious laugh and wiped the tears away.

"He really is," you replied. You took a beat. The method of ending the relationship notwithstanding, even the few months before he was sent off to a new city to help build a brand for his company hadn't been the greatest. Petty squabbles, missed dinner dates, shifting priorities. You were so grateful you had held your ground and insisted on not moving in together right away. "You know what? Just nevermind it. I mean, if I'm not important enough to plan a few trips home over several months to continue nurturing our new-ish relationship let alone show up for an anniversary vacation, clearly he's not worth crying over."

"There you go! Absolutely right."

"Should we go meet the horses?"

"Love to." 

The bright smile on his face had you weak in the knees again but you somehow managed to lead Henry back outside to the barn, stepping inside the large doors carefully, so you didn't spook the animals.

"They don't spend all their time in here, do they?"

"Oh, no! It's just getting late and dark soon. My friends have a farm hand who comes by in the mornings and evenings to feed and water them, let them out on the property, muck the stalls, wrangle them back in. All the things I'm positively no good at. I can feed the goats," you laughed and nodded to the three animals in an enclosure with a small door leading out to a fenced in paddock.

"Well that's a relief. Do you know their names?"

"Yes! This is Telly," you walked toward a massive brown stallion with a gorgeous black mane. "And next to him is Butterscotch. Her coloring is my favorite. Over here we have Mikka and Sadie, the two Appaloosas. Sadie's pregnant. "

You watched the way Henry cooed and whispered to each horse in turn, taking the time to figure out the exact right spot to pat or rub or scratch at. Was he that meticulous in all his interactions?

“And what kind of dogs do the owners keep?” 

“How did you ...?” you trailed off as you realized he must have noticed the dog beds by the fireplace in the great-room off the kitchen, as well as the water bowls scattered throughout the house and barn. “They have two Great Pyrenees.”

“Oh, big floofers then. Excellent!” Did he just say floofers? Could this man get any more adorable? 

“Yes,” you laughed. “Um, Leo and Gabs.”

“And where are those two?”

“Oh, well my friends take them along on trips. I wish they’d leave them. I love their couch cuddles. Don’t care how many lint rollers I have to go through.”

“Ha, yes,” Henry laughed. “Lint rollers, a dog owner’s best friend.”

Oh shit.

“Henry? Is Kal with you on this trip? I mean, he’s not suffering alone in a strange hotel room right now is he?” You were close to mortified. Had you forced Henry to abandon Kal? 

“In the hotel room, yes. Alone? Decidedly not,” he chuckled. “I rang my assistant on the way out here to let her know she’d need to extend her baby-sitting for the night. Kal’s in good hands. Probably scamming for extra dinner as we speak.”

“Oh, good! Speaking of dinner, are you hungry?”

“I could eat, yes.”

“Good. I have something for that.” Henry cocked his head to the side with an eyebrow raise and you paused for a moment, shocked at how easily the double-entendre slipped out. “I just mean, well, you know, the army stores and ...”

Henry laughed and saved you from further embarrassment. “Yes, what’s on the menu tonight?”

“Okay, well I have sandwich fixings, a few soups, stuff for stew, plenty of pasta options, and oooh, I make a killer bolognese if I do say so myself,” you listed off as you headed back into the house.

“Oh, I don’t want you to go to any trouble. Sandwiches would be fine.”

“It’s literally no trouble. I prepped the sauce this week. Just need to reheat it and toast up some gnocchi. The hardest part for me would probably be opening the wine. I don’t know if you know this, but I’m terribly clumsy and all the bottles I brought are corked instead of screw tops. Jeremy bought them all before he left for work. Would you mind?”

You nodded to the stash of bottles on the counter and Henry set about picking out a pairing for the dinner. “Did he imagine you’d never want a glass without him?”

“Like you said, total twat. Oh, and I don’t mean to keep putting you to work, but it’s going to start getting cold in here now that the sun’s down. I can turn up the thermostat a bit, but how are you at building fires?”

“I’m excellent at it.” He was already turning toward the great room after pouring two glasses of red. You wondered about the title of this Hallmark Holiday movie you suddenly found yourself in.

By the time the fire was roaring, you had plates served up at the long farmhouse table. Henry sat and the two of you chatted throughout the meal, beginning with his amazement at how you were not lying about the sauce.

“Right??? I simply won’t be modest about it. It’s like the one good thing I can do.”

“Oh I highly doubt that. The skill it takes to coax this flavor? You must be able to translate that into other dishes?”

“Well, I try.” There, a return to modesty.

After dinner, Henry suggested drinks by the fire and you were happy to join him, settling into the overstuffed easy chair, lest he feel you were crowding him on the couch. But this way you could stare naturally into his mesmerizing eyes while he spoke a language you didn’t understand about a topic you could tell meant the world to him. You’d asked about the model he was to pick up tomorrow and that opened a floodgate, as if he’d been dying to chat about his hobby for ages.

“I’m sorry, I must be boring you.”

“Not at all! I mean, I don’t know anything about the game, but I love hearing people talk about their passions. It’s enlightening, getting to know what makes people tick, what makes them happy.” You tried to stifle a yawn. “That’s not a commentary!” you laughed.

“Yeah it’s definitely getting late,” Henry glanced at his watch for the first time the entire evening. Other than a quick glance at his phone at dinner to answer a text from his assistant, his attention had been entirely on you and the evening.

“Okay, well let me get you settled in a guest room.”

There were three rooms in the house with private baths, while the rest shared various full and half baths up and downstairs. You felt weird putting him in your friend’s room or the room with two twins, so the king guest room that you normally stayed in would be his for the night. Don’t think about wrapping yourself in the sheets later.

“This is you. Bathroom is through the far door and there are usually extra toiletries stocked under the sink so help yourself. Oh, gosh! Do you want me to grab a pair of pj bottoms or something for you?”

Henry pursed his lips and with a mischievous look stated, “Hmmm, not necessary.”

It took you a moment to catch his drift and your eyes widened as you turned with a squeak of surprise. “Oh! Right, okay.. Well, I’m just down the hall if you need anything. Goodnight, Henry.”

“Goodnight Henry,” he winked when you turned back confused, then waited as you entered your room laughing. 

You closed the door and took a deep breath then exhaled as you began imagining him naked in your bed. You grabbed your toiletry bag and prepared for bed trying not to think anymore about it. Sleep was going to come hard tonight.

Chapter 2

Tags: Please let me know if you want on or off or moved.

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[jujutsutrash]

Once again nvm me I'm just throwing some self indulgent thoughts out there for things I might never write. also this was supposed to be like, reals short. well, fuck me I guess, it's 1.9 k

Thinking of Geto x reader where things still went bad, he still went homicidal, and you followed him. you were his girlfriend, of course you followed him. more out of worry about him than anything else, but you blew your life in jujutsu society away and went with him.

But you weren't there when Suguru attacked and went after Yuta. you didn't die with him. and after surviving everything, years later Satoru finds you. it's a twist of fate he could never see coming, and one that shakes him to his bones.

You had stayed with Suguru for a few years, helped him along, tried to make sure he wouldn't kill himself in the middle of his pursuit. you didn't hate non-sorcerers quite so much as you hated what had been done of your lives, what had been done of Suguru's mind. you saw it clearly when he had reached the edge, but there was nobody strong enough to pull him from there, so you followed.

But then one day you went missing. missing from Suguru's radar and from the jujutsu school. the minute you left with him you had been labeled a criminal too, so it made sense for you to not want them on your tracks anyways. but running even from Suguru, that was the weird part.

It was one of the things Satoru noticed the day Suguru declared his soon to come attack on the non-sorcers. you were missing. it made no sense, but he also had no way of really asking. for a short while after you two left Satoru had held out hope you'd find a way to bring Suguru back. but that hope also died. and now you weren't even here. he didn't want to imagine if you were dead.

But the years pass, and Satoru learns to keep on going. he has seen more horror and live more tragedies than any man should, but he learns to keep on going. and then one day, after an usual mission to kill an average curse, he sees your face in the crowd. it has been 15 years since you had both left by that point.

It's like seeing a ghost. a mirage in the summer heat. he'd have ignored it, thought he was mistaken, if not for the gleam in your eye as he caught it for a second. recognition. and just like that Satoru is chasing the remnants of his past again. six eyes hunting you through the streets as you try to avoid him.

Satoru had taken you for dead, with the way Suguru refused to even acknowledge your absence. but now he was chasing you through the streets, amongst the crowd, trying to keep a distance until he found it safe to speak. until there weren't so many people around to bear witness to just how destroyed the sight of you made him. he knows you are aware of him too, trying to shake him off of your trail - but the six eyes see all, and he knows you know that too.

He follows you down a long set of wide concrete stairs until you are both close to the bottom. it's in that precious moment that almost all people vanish, the sound of the crowd like a distant background noise. Satoru was to seize the moment before you run away for good. after all the people he lost and all the questions unanswered, he wouldn't let this chance slip.

so he calls your name, and you hesitate for a moment. when you turn around, cold, tired eyes look back at him. Satoru suddenly remembers how Nanami had confessed he saw you not even a year after you left, all that you had told the man was that someone needed to be with Suguru. and here you were now, alone. it's like a fever dream, and Satoru can't even think of what to say.

"I thought you were dead"

it falls from his lips before he can even register, trembling eyes looking over you as his words ring loud over the background noises around. you'd aged, changed. it has been over fifteen years, Satoru tells himself. over fifteen years and a world of pain. nobody stays the same.

"but I'm not," you respond in a dry, tense tone, gaze filled with suspicion. "if all you wanted was to check, then you've done it. but if you still have a duty to finish, I know I stand no chance, but I'm not going down easy."

Satoru notices your tense, shaking fist holding plastic grocery bags. the partially tucked shirt with a faded stain on one of the edges. the chipped nailpolish on your fingers. it's saturday morning, and you almost seem like someone who always lived a normal life. a part of him feels bad for breaking that spell.

"I wouldn't —" he stutters, "do you really think I would kill you?"

"you wouldn't, but it's what you should do," you sigh and groan, looking up at him from your place near the bottom of the stairs. "listen, Satoru, just forget you saw me here, ok. just leave. this isn't good for either of us."

he calls your name again and he can see you shake. your eyes still look beautiful, almost like all those years ago, but now they look stern and worried. glancing to your sides like an skittish animal. like a mouse cornered and forced into agression by a lack of choice.

"listen, I just want to talk. I have so many questions. why did you leave? wh—"

"the answers won't change anything," you cut him off, raising your voice slightly over the noises of steps on concrete, birds chriping and evrything else around. "you are just gonna relieve the pain again"

"I worried about you, just hear me o—"

"mom?"

the voice comes from behind Satoru, and he watches as yor eyes widen for a momen before you smile sweetly — an expression he hasn't seen in years. he turns around and sees a boy somewhere between ten and twelve looking at him from a few steps above.

the boy gazes at Satoru with suspicion, dark fox like eyes feeling like an echo of something he once knew. it's like a gut punch, and he feels the air leave his lungs as he stares down at a kid with eyes he knew so well. the boy breaks the heavy silence, kicking up the skateboard at his feet before grabbing it with one hand.

"how many times have I told you not to go down the stairs on that thing?"

"eh, sorry mom"

the boy laughs softly, climbing down the steps two at a time until he reaches you. he passes by Satoru and the man can't help but notice how tall that kid was. how his deep black hair was held up in a pony tail. how his smile felt like that of a ghost. but he wasn't, Satoru repeated to himself, he wasn't.

"you are gonna give me a heart attack," you say, caressing the boy's face as he gives you a hug.

"come on, mom. anyway, who is that?" he asks, turning back to you and pointing at Satoru with his thumb before turning back.

"show some more respect will you?" you shoot back with an exhasperated sigh. "that's Gojo, an old friend of mine," you turn your eyes back to Satoru, gaze tense as you speak again. "this is my son, Kazuo."

Kazuo nods and then bows a little when you leer at him. Satoru is fighting hard to keep his expression neutral. there is a moment where his mind just goes blank, looking at the two of you, noticing the similarities and differences. when he snaps back he slimes wide, going down a couple steps as he waves and nods to the boy.

"hey, kid. it's ok, don't worry about formalities, you can call me Satoru, nice to meet ya, Kazuo."

"huh? 'kay, then. nice to meet ya, Satoru."

the boy smile and waves and Satoru feels a sting deep in his chest. it's possibly the most bittersweet feeling he has ever experience in his life. you sight loudly and he laughs — there is still pain in his heart, but there is alos a weirdly nostalgic sensation bubbling within, he can't quite place it, but it warms him all the same.

"shouldn't you be going to soccer practice?" you ask, looking back down at the boy who is now peeking into your plastic bags.

"that's what I was doing," he answers, tugging at one of the bags. "oh, is that mochi?"

Satoru watches in silence, a smile on his face as the scene unfolds. you grunt and hold the boy's wrist as he tries to sneak one hand into the bag. when he is caught, he clearly opts for begging, looking at you with wide puppy eyes.

"if you eat them all there will be none left for after lunch."

"just one mom, please. then I'll go," Kazuo pouts as you stare down at him, and Satoru has to hold back a giggle.

"ah, alright, just one," you give in, shoulders slumping as you kiss the boy's forehead while he sticks his hand in the bag and grabs one of the sweets. "now get going before you run late."

"aye, aye, love you, mom," Kazuo laughs, climbing a few steps down before turning back and waving. "see ya."

Satoru stays quiet, eyes following you as you watch the boy walk down the nearly empty street before making a turn. just as he is nearly out of sight you hear the loud clanking of the skateboard wheels hitting the concrete below. you shake your shoulders with a tired laugh and Satoru smiles softly at the sight.

then you turn around, and your eyes don't look so cold, but they look just as tired, and even more worried.

"how old is he?"

"just about to turn eleven."

"I didn't," Satoru struggles, choking on his words once more. "I had no idea."

"Nobody did, that's by choice. you can see why I went missing now, right? I could deal with the blood in my hands and the guilt in my heart. but I couldn't let a kid grow up like that, surrounded by curses, and violence and all the shit that comes with the world of jujutsu."

"I can see it now," Satoru responds quietly, descing a few steps until he is standing close to you, one hand reaching for your shoulder, relief flooding his body when you don't step back. "he looks like a great kid, you are doing good as his mother."

"thanks, he is a little trouble maker, but yeah, he is a good kid," you give him a quiet chuckle, eyes glancing at the ground before looking back up at him. "and he deserves to have his youth as carefree and unbothered as it can be. and I intent to keep it like that, even if I have to fight every sorcerer in the world for that."

you look at him with fire in your eyes, and Satoru can't blame you. he can't blame you for doing something his family would never have done for him. something he wishes Suguru's family would have done for him all these years ago. the past can't be changed, but the future could still be protected.

[torhues]

iwaizumi hajime.

iwaizumi exhales in the palms of his hands. "how long?"

"a month or so, maybe," you look ever so calm, watching people enter and leave the airport, fiddling with your fingers occasionally out of habit. while your actions might look like some sort of obsession with observing people, they're actually subtle attempts to avoid looking at iwaizumi.

"was it hard?" he doesn't sound angry, or disappointed, or sad. it's not pure numbness, but his words aren't intoxicated with emotions either. "thinking about breaking up?"

"i tried not to overthink," you reply, still looking at the people, their luggage, noticing everything that the attendants are doing at the check-in counters. it's hard to keep up with everyone's actions in the multitude.

you've always associated airports with bits of romance. you've seen people break up on airports and kiss their lovers goodbyes until the last boarding calls. airports, according to you, are no different than hospitals. people visit both the places, but you don't know if they're coming back. although, not everyone thinks of airports as a place so gloomy that it stirs your stomach, but you've taught yourself to think that way in the past few months.

you've played it in your head multiple times, how you would break up with iwaizumi. you settled upon doing it last week, but never got a chance. days passed, you felt your chances slipping through the cracks of your hands and suddenly, the words fall off your lips amidst hundred other people waiting for the boarding announcement on the airport.

"hajime, you're not dying and neither am i. you're pursuing your dreams and if the situation calls for us to break up, i'm no one to refuse," while it seems like you're offering him some comfort to cope with the situation, those words are for yourself. you want to believe that he will come back to you, or you will find him again, even if it's after years, after the sweet memories that you share disappear over time; even if it's just one minute before you die, you want to believe you will meet him. after all, those will be the words that will convince you to look forward to every single day that is now going to pass without a glimpse of him.

"you know we don't have to do this," iwaizumi says it as a matter of fact. there's a stern look in his eyes, as if he has known you long enough to know the words that you mean and the ones you don't. sometimes, you think if you've given too much of yourself to him that now, he resembles a faint image of yourself in the mirror. it's like a single soul living in two different bodies, perhaps that's why, it feels like you're losing little pieces of yourself as you watched him prepare to leave for the States.

and so, you mirror the exact same look at him. "we do,"

"what if i fall in love with someone else? what if i come back with a family, a kid?" there's a hint of sorrow behind his hurtful words. thinking about iwaizumi next to someone else is painful, it's like taking a knife to your heart, but at the same time you know he doesn't mean his words.

just like iwaizumi, you've also known him long enough to know the words he means and the ones that he doesn't.

"i don't know, perhaps i'll congratulate you?" you manage to reply with a bitter laugh. "and also hate you for not inviting me to your marriage,"

you honestly don't know how you'd feel about iwaizumi starting a family with someone else. of course, you'd be happy for him, but will also carry a heart that aches at the site of him standing next to his other love, someone that's not you; and of course, you would still love him, even if you lose the rights to call him yours.

even though you're holding onto the words that you both will meet again, this could be the last time you see him. you know it already, you both have different lives, separate goals, and loving was never about staying next to each other even if it means giving up on what you've always wanted to do in life. it's surprising how you've both lived as strangers until you met each other and suddenly, your life without him seems impossible.

"will you be happy without me?" he asks.

"i'll try," you reply.

he nods, checking his watch before standing up and fixing his shirt. his eyes settle upon his backpack before travelling back to yours. "we still have twenty minutes, in case you want to change your decision,"

"i've decided,"

"okay," he breathes out, shooting you a smile while trying to choke in the tears that are starting to fall down his cheeks. "don't forget me," he adds a reminder, as if you're ever going to do that.

you met iwaizumi in middle school as a classmate, almost a stranger, someone you never properly talked to until he became the only student you knew beforehand in your class when highschool commenced. now, he is singlehandedly the most important person in your life. he's someone who loves you to moon and beyond, someone you've hurt many times but also is someone whose arms are like a second home to you.

you don't think anyone could compare to him, or the effect he has on you. no one can replace the moments you share with him, it's not like there's another person in the world who could make you feel the same way he did. you won't forget him because it's not like there's someone out there who can shadow his presence in your life.

like, there's not another iwaizumi hajime in this world because there's only one of him, and you're beyond lucky to share a few chapters of your life with a man who makes you feel like the happiest person alive.

with the boarding announcement going off, iwaizumi takes a last look at you. his eyes look the brightest they've ever been, overflowing with love so as to remind you that he loves you, and will continue to do so for years to come, that the distance that keeps on increasing between the two of you as he walks away doesn't mean anything because he'll always be there for you no matter what.

that you were the first for him and he is sure that you're also his last, and that you don't have to worry about him falling for someone else because even though he's going to a far away place, he's leaving his heart with you.

"hajime," you call, rushing to the line waiting in to pass through the metal detector. "i don't care if you come back with a wife, kid, or kids, or if you even come back. all i know is that i'm rooting for you, and i will continue to do so, and if you ever decide to come back, i'll be right here,"

you cup his face and plant a last kiss on his lips. "let's try to be happy without each other,"

and now, iwaizumi is twenty-seven, standing in front of flower wreaths at Narita International Airport with a white carnations, filtering through the small crowd that clutters the memorial of people who had passed away in an accident, fallen victims to the flight that went up in flames just a few minutes after it's take off.

iwaizumi spots your picture on the granite along with several others, placing the flowers amidst several others. a single tear rolls down his cheeks, "i'm a little late, aren't i, love?"

[peridot-tears]

Mind sharing some Ezio, Ziio, Shay and Edward Hcs?

Sofia and Claudia got along like sisters (idk I think this might actually be canon).

Ezio encouraged Flavia to be spirited and curious, and sees himself in her and the way she takes care of Marcello. If Ezio had lived to see her to adulthood, he would have been protective but let her choose her own husband.

Ezio wanted to keep his Assassin activities a secret from his children. After he died, Claudia took them in and trained them herself the way their Uncle Mario did for them.

Ziio and Oiá:ner's interactions became stilted after the birth of Ratohnhaké:ton. There was no doubt that the love was there, but Oiá:ner could not quite look at her the same again, and she had to busy herself with finding someone else to groom as successor. They were finally warming up to each other again just a year or so before Ziio died.

Oiá:ner put full trust into Ratohnhaké:ton and his decision-making going forward because she didn't want to drive a wedge between herself and her grandson the way she did with Ziio. And it was the hardest thing she ever had to do.

Modern-day Ziio would have been a leader in the stand-offs against the Canadian government and localities like the Kanehsatà:ke Resistance, which her voice actor Tiio Horn was actually in. My headcanon Ziio has a lot of Tiio Horn's traits, mostly because Tiio Horn's sass that I see in her social media comes through a lot in her voice acting for Ziio.

Ratohnhaké:ton's a BEAST at lacrosse. Man moves like WATER.

Shay died peacefully in a manner similar to Ezio's -- in a garden, watching his family.

Shay most definitely was the black sheep amongst the Templars -- not just because a traitor gets no trust from any side, but because he's Irish and many other Templars were Englishmen who were racist against him. Adéwalé called him Haytham's hunting dog, but the Templars thought the same of him.

Because of this, Shay was that high-achieving Templar the others resented, because they hated the idea of being outdone by someone they felt was lesser. They kept their distance from each other, and his friends in the Order were kept in a tight circle -- Jack Weeks, Gist, and Haytham.

That's also why Cudgel was so fiercely proud of his grandfather later on too -- despite the racism, he was more Templar than any of them.

Also, Lil Cudge seems to me like that kind of guy who in modern day would insist that the Irish were slaves. He seems to me like someone who's very loyal, but but blindly so, and someone who doesn't question tradition.

Edward wanted to raise Haytham as English as possible, but he'd occasionally slip up and curse in Welsh at times. Haytham would grow up with only vague memories of the Welsh part of his heritage.

Edward was a rambunctious lil youngster who didn't need any dogs to herd the sheep. The wolves were scared of HIM lol.

Edward's relationship with Jenny haunts my dreams. What happened in the years between her and Haytham's birth. The people need to know.

I wrote a whole other word vomit post expressing my guess that he didn't want her to get involved in the Assassin world because he wanted to protect his last memory of Caroline. He believed in being honest with your child, so she knew everything about his activities. But given that Caroline had already been disowned because of him and even now that he was a new money gentleman, he was a social pariah because of his pirate past, he wanted Jenny to live a noblewoman's life -- marry a man of good social standing and be a good wife. And although she protested, he always thought he knew what was best for her.

If Jenny knew about her brother's child and ever met him, she honestly would've adored him. Such a polite, well-loved young man. She would've been relieved that he was raised right by his mother's side, away from the Kenway drama. Thank God all he had in common with her side of the family was blood, but if she could have chosen to be blood with any remaining relative of hers, it would have been him.

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[10:57 pm] 

(cw: angst, mentions of receiving hate and threats, no happy ending) (I also have no knowledge of being an idol, I’m a 23 year old teenage latina, I doubt this is accurate)

“I can’t do this anymore,” you sobbed, wiping away at your tears.

Taeyong’s head snapped up, looking at you with teary eyes, “Please don’t tell me you mean us.”

You nodded, trembling hands going up to muffle your sobs. Everything was awful, your perfect little bubble was popped with one stupid slip up. You were both usually so careful about being out in public together, only going out at night, dark clothes, masks, and hats to disguise who you both were. You had both decided that after a year of publicly sneaking around maybe you could finally have dinner together. Wrong, so, so, so wrong. A “fan” had taken both your pictures and someone else must have tipped off Dispatch because the next morning you had woken up to pictures of yours and Taeyong’s faces plastered on every site you clicked on and countless calls from your manager.

The meeting with your company had been disheartening. Even though you had let them know about your relationship months ago, everything had now fallen on your shoulders. You were bringing a bad look to your group and tarnishing your own reputation. It was at least a little hopeful when they told you they’d put out a statement and this would all blow over soon. It felt even more awful sitting beside your manager while she got her own earful for allowing you to sneak off as if she were completely responsible for your own actions. You had apologized profusely after the meeting, begging for her forgiveness. She of course forgave you, but it didn’t ease the pit in your stomach.

Two weeks had passed and you were still under under scrutiny. Scrolling through your instagram, every single post had hate comments that were vicious and heartless. Even your group’s page contained the same comments and threats. You had apologized to your members, promising that it was never your intention to have anything like this happen. They understood, some being in their own relationships and reassured you that everything would work out. Again, it didn’t do anything to ease the guilt and anxiety you felt with the mess your love-filled relationship had become.

Your guilt only grew, learning that your comeback would have to be held off because of all the backlash against the group. You could comeback and risk having your worst public reception yet, or comeback and not be given opportunities to promote anywhere. You had even overheard a few managers from another group from your company talking about how the company shares had taken a very noticeable drop after the news came out. The pit in your stomach only grew at that news.

“Taeyong, nothing good has come from us being exposed to the public. I can’t open any apps because all I see is hate, my members are bombarded with hate too, and we can’t comeback so we don’t make money. I heard them talking about the threats they were getting,” you paused as your voice cracked, “The stocks at the company have taken a hit from this too! All this is my fault!”

“It’s my fault too, but we can’t give up on this- on us. I’ll talk to my manager and we can get the company lawyers involved,” Taeyong tried, reaching for your hand.

“You’re not getting hate like I am Taeyong, you still get to make your comeback and make appearances because no one will assume that my senior is dating me to get his name out. You can keep living your dream, but if I double down this can be all over for me and everyone I work with. My manager almost got fired over this, Taeyong. I’ve known her since I was 15 and she’s the closest this I have to family besides my members this far away from home. I’ve almost ruined people’s livelihoods over this news,” you cried with your head in your hands.

“But we know that’s not what this is, please, my love. Don’t give up on me.”

“It’s not like I want to Taeyong! My manager will get in touch with yours so a statement can be made about us splitting up,” you decided, wiping away your tears as you stood up and left his dorm before he could protest any further.

It was the hardest decision you ever had to make. Nobody understood you like Taeyong. There was no one in the world who could get you like he could, simply because he had gone through the same things you had, he understood the busy schedules, the constant change in time zones, the shoots, the promotions, living with your group members. Unfortunately, that also meant he understood the consequences that could come from both of you becoming public. You had both seen so many peers experience the same thing, and chose to ignore that when it came to the two of you since there wasn’t any plan for you to go public any time soon. It obviously didn’t work out like either of you wanted.

You were about to step out the door, when Taeyong’s voice rang out, “I love you, is that not enough for you? You don’t even want to fight for us? Please, just tell me you love me back.”

“I can’t just think of myself here, It’s beyond me Taeyong- beyond us. I will not put my needs and wants before a team of people, I can’t do that,” You replied, wiping away your stream of tears. “I do love you, but that can’t be enough.”

It was over and it felt so heartbreaking and awful. You loved Taeyong with all your heart, but you had worked so hard to get where you were, where your group was. You couldn’t risk all your hard work and the work of your team going down the drain because you chose to be selfish. In an ideal world, you could live your dream and have your love, but it didn’t always work like that.

[teary-eyed-tiaras]

I made a fake eddsworld horror movie starring Laurel

"Lower Birth is a lowbudget 1995 feminist cult horror movie released to high audience and critical praise.

The plot follows Laurel Hardy and Eduardo Torres, a very distant couple on the brink of seperating, so distant that they don't even sleep in the same beds anymore. Much to Laurel's surprise and shock, she miraciously finds out she's pregnant with out having slept with eduardo in months, she has never wanter kids and plans to abort it but eduardo convinces her to keep it. He also convinces her to sell their apartment and move in with his friends that she has never met before since their house has much more space.

Upon arriving to their new home Laurel is instantly put off, Todd doesn't wanna talk to her at all, Jon keeps hugging her and touching her hands with out permission, and Mark keeps explaining basic things about her own body to her. He also seems quite upset when she rejects his offer to be an OBGYN for her because she already has a female doctor she likes very much.

They throw a party and invite the whole neighborhood, which is when Laurel realizes that there are absolutely no women in the entire block. Everyone seems very welcoming to her but they already know her name and that she's pregnant, something she wanted to tell them herself. She sneaks out of the party and catches a bus to visit her friends Kim and Katya, a lesbisn couple living in the city that eduardo hates for undisclosed reasons.

Laurel vents about everything but doesn't let it slip that she didn't have the baby intentionally. They're nice to her but Kim says she doesn't understant straight peoples compulsion to have unnecessary children that make them sick and mess up their bodies. Laurel starts to suffer pregnancy symptoms and faints so she decides to go home, where Eduardo has all but disapearred.

Over the next few days, Laurel suffers fainting spells,sickness and constant exhaustian that makes it hard for her to get up. Eduardo works all day and comes back home by the time she's already asleep so she rarely ever sees him now. She starts having bizzare dreams of a door with red under it and a cross that frighten and upset her.

She deduces that Todd's been hiding a secret room from her but upon finding it realizes it's just a male nursery he had been building as a suprise for her. She's thankful but asks what they're gonna do if the babies a girl, and Todd just laughs in response. Jon and Mark then inform her that they pretended to be eduardo and quit her job and cancelled her doctors appointments so they can loon after her 24/7. Laurel gets very upset but can't curse them out due to suddenly feeling sick and passing out.

When she wakes up again she has gone from being one month pregnant to nine months pregnant, and only she seems to be horrified or shocked at all. The next few days are just a blur as she continously passes out and wakes back up. One night however, Jon decides to go into Laurel's room and place her hands on her stomache once again.

Laurel is so tired and weak she just pretends to be asleep in hopes he'll leave, but he just keeps doing it and starts whispering cryptic things to himself. This the final straw for Laurel, and after he leaves she manages to summon the strength to get up and grab a kitchen knife. Before she can escape though, she sees the same door from her dream with the red light and cross, only this time it's upside down.

She is far too curious to ignore it so she opens the door and discovers all the men from the neighborhood are having a party with candles, blood, baby toys, and alchohol all over the place. They all seem rather happy for her to be up and about but Laurel demanda some answers.

Eduardo tries to explain but Mark interrupts to explain it instead, because even now, her own damn boyfriend is too much of a coward to talk to her. Appearently a while ago Edd accidentally summoned a ghost and then pushed it off to eduardo, Eduardo and his friends tried everything to make it leave but nothing worked. Eventually they managed to make a deal with the ghost, if they could provide him a new vessel for him to possess he would provide them in turn with riches and power.

So they looked for women for Eduardo to pursue romantically and chose Laurel, and that's how she got pregnant and how they afforded their house. Laurel is having none of this bullshit and punches eduardo in the face. She runs out of the house with the men in hot pursuit, but she gets hit by a car in all the chaos. She wakes up in the hospital a day later, having miscarried from the collision.

After the nurse leaves she tries to go back to sleep but Eduardo sneaks in and tries to kidnap her. She gauges his eye out in retaliation and calls for a doctor so he's arrested. The film cuts to a year later, where Laurel has moved in with kim and katya. She's written a successful horror novel about her experience, the men's cult has totally disappated, and she even got her tubes tied so she never has to get pregnant ever again."