#but I didn't see it in the tags and I think I might explode just thinking about it

[dnickels]

RE: 5x05. I have no idea how much I'm supposed to read into this, but that has never stopped me before:

It's VE Day. Havers is back in England. The post office, telephone system, communication infrastructure etc all still work. So where is Cap's sense of urgency coming from? He knows the full name and regiment of a serving officer, a letter will get where it needs to go, they're very good about that over there. Yes, Cap's been waiting, but its been six years, he can wait a little longer-- hang out in the bushes until he sees Haver's car drive away and bang on the window, if he insists on being an insane person (<3). Figure out where he's billeted. Japan hasn't surrendered yet, so I suppose there's a chance Havers could get shipped to Burma or something and potentially die there, but he's not going to go straight from the cocktail reception to the troop ship, especially if everyone there is about to get "Hitler defeated"-levels of drunk. ("They're all red tabs, surely decency and decorum--" they are going to roll those old soaks out of there in wheelbarrows)

The urgency isn't because Havers might die. I think Cap knew his time was short.

He's a middle aged man in tolerably good shape, all that ration food aside. He make good time on his morning jogs, and his biggest ailment is 'creaky knees'. "Widowmaker heart attack out of nowhere" isn't an unheard of COD for someone who seems otherwise fine, especially someone who has been under a fair amount of stress (six years of wartime, including the fucking Blitz would do a number on my heart) but his sudden relocation makes me pause. It's only been about a year since he got relocated away from Button House, right? What was all that about? It's presumably still requisitioned, given that they're throwing a swanky victory party there and Heather Button is nowhere to be seen, but has the weapons program been disbanded? Or was there some reason to pull the CO out of a high-stress position and send him to the beach to take potshots at seagulls? (I am being glib here-- the coast was NOT a stress-free place when you can see your enemy just across the Channel). I genuinely forget what he said he was doing in season three-- was he even still in the army at all, or did they send his ass to the Home Guard? Even they got a campaign ribbon.

I think Cap made one last push to get to the front, and while its very clear that this dingus should under no circumstances be on the front line (<3) they humored him with a medical-- and found something really troubling. Or maybe he went in of his own accord, the old flutter, or maybe it was just a routine checkup. Either way he got some very serious news, so sorry old boy, just one of those things, could be any day now-- best make sure your affairs are all in order.

Hence the single-minded desire to meet, once last time. Everyone else clearly drove-- did he walk all the way from the train station, down the country lanes? Did he feel a little short of breath scaling all those walls? Did every set-back and stressor make him more determined-- just give me a little more time, just a little more time...

It could also be that he just got yelled at so hard he died of it, which is almost certainly how I will go, but that was my immediate impression and it has not left me, nor have I known peace. I know there's a few holes in my theory but I haven't talked myself out of it yet. For me the kicker is that he experiences at least ten devastating emotions in the last moments of his life, but "surprise at entering cardiac arrest" does not appear to be one of them. It looks more like grim acceptance. Stoic in the face of death-- a soldier to the end.

[choerypetal]

Hide and Seek / Homelander

(pt 2. of Meet and Greet)

summary ; In part two of the meet and greet, Homelander's obsession reaches new heights, leaving him unsatisfied at his core and willing to do anything to make you his.

!! read part one first! ; !!

ps; english isn't my first language so i apologize for any grammar mistakes, xo' (as it will be eventually corrected if needed)

tag list; @private-eye-on-you ; @lins-shenanigans ; @horrorxgorewhore @siredtom ; @certain-tragedies ; @hotchners-wifey ; @naelis-open-sea

enjoy xo'

Homelander's comment, 'You look lovely in the costume,' lingered in your mind for a week. You couldn't escape his presence. His silhouette, his maddeningly perfect face seemed to follow you everywhere—from your usual coffee shop to the special limited editions of The Vought, and even as you continued watching the show for longer periods of time. From Deep's special cupcakes to the coffee most loved by Homelander, his influence was everywhere, not just keeping the city alive but himself as well.

Although you didn't realize it, Homelander had become just as obsessed with you as he was with seeing his own face on the cup you were holding. From a distance, he watched your every move—the way your plump lips touched the cup, how you drank your coffee, and even how you covered his image with your hand. Despite finding your behavior an offense, he knew he’d eventually have to tease about it. The sadistic man that he was, wasn’t afraid to even acknowledge it. Especially during their weekly Seven meetings. 

"So, I suggest we review some new recruits," Ashley said, her nervousness palpable. She wanted to please not only the public but, most importantly, Homelander. This was no easy task given recent events and the current situation. Homelander's obvious boredom showed his lack of interest, and Deep, poor thing, was just as disinterested, staring blankly at the screen and agreeing with whatever Homelander mumbled. However, Deep was secretly relieved not to have any of John’s powers. Especially right now. Because, at that exact moment, it was your face, and your face alone, that occupied his thoughts. Murmuring your name under his breath, he was fortunate not to get caught up in the moment. That of course, when a single cough from Ashley’s mouth was enough to slip his mind elsewhere. 

"You know, Ashley, just pick whoever you think will fit for now. Sign their papers. My brain is going to fucking explode from this hell hole," he said, standing up without even glancing at her. Not even Ashley's whiny complaints about the complications it might cause could stop him. He paused, considering for a moment that she might convince him. "Don't come to me for the next 24 hours," he snapped, his piercing blue eyes conveying a clear threat. When wasn't he a threat, anyway? "Or I'll personally fuck up every single one of you." That was enough to make her quickly nod in response. Poor thing, she only wanted to make him proud. A satisfied grin played on his lips, mirrored by Ashley's, though hers was a little more nervous. His, however, was genuine. 

You, on the other hand, had been fortunate enough not to see Homelander's face for a while. From the bookstore you frequented to the coffee shop, his presence seemed to pervade your life. Your mother didn’t help either, as she insisted on framing a picture of you with him in the living room—a gesture Homelander found endearing. On some nights, he would see you through the window, dressed in your pajamas, reading whatever caught your interest, with that picture always in the background. Unlike Homelander, it haunted your dreams.  

Deep down, Homelander struggled to resist the urge to invade your personal space, not wanting to frighten you. However, when he saw your forced smile at the meet and greet, he was reminded that a smile meant nothing to him. To him and you alone. It was your scent that drove him wild. At first, he considered going undercover, posing as one of your father’s coworkers, but he realized it would be futile. Why cover his own shame, when he could let his ego take it over?

So, he waited until sunrise. When he could finally entered your room, imagining you in your shortest pajamas, which hugged your curves so perfectly, he had to bite his bottom lip to control himself. Just by the thought of his fingers sinking into your flesh as you leaned toward him for more...

"Goodbye, Mom!" Your voice echoed in Homelander's mind as he realized he'd been lurking around your house since last night. He had been trying to dismiss, the missed call records provided by Ashley, however, unable to ignore them. Fortunately, he was hidden well enough that you didn’t notice him as you exited the house.

Your hair meticulously washed, your skin fresh with makeup, and that dress. Never in a thousand years, aside from his own enemies, did Homelander think he would become so obsessed with someone. He wanted to chuckle to himself at the irony, knowing he wasn’t being the most subtle superhero. When your gaze shifted toward his hiding spot, he quickly concealed himself behind a tree, exhaling in relief when you shrugged off the feeling of being watched. You then left for work, something Homelander knew all too well. This also meant he could meet your mother, who, after all, was his biggest fan. 

Fortunately, you managed to get through the day without a single client yelling at you. However, what you didn’t expect was an unexpected visit from the man himself. As you approached the door, you overheard some mumbling. Did your mother have a visitor today? 

And then it hit you.

Hearing the all-too-familiar voice say, "Oh, these look lovely," with a genuine smile, you froze in your tracks. Seeing your mother so happy, even more thrilled than a fangirl, like she’d seen god himself. She noticed you immediately. "My dear! Look who came to visit," she exclaimed, taking you into her arms for a hug. Before you could greet the guest, your eyes met his—Homelander, in your own home. 

"No need for theatrics, ma’am," he said with a casual chuckle, hushed by his own hand as he munched on the cookies your mother had made, casually wiping a droplet of milk with his thumb. Your mother giggled and said, "Mother is the name. We don’t have to get formal, right darling?" You blinked twice, hardly believing what you were hearing. Your mother was genuinely making Homelander feel comfortable, right inside your home. Given what you knew from your coworkers and the constant rumors, it was hard not to be creeped out by the thought that he might have done more than just a knock on the door that evening. Yet, you shrugged it off, thinking that perhaps playing the same game he did might be what he wanted after all. Like a cat and a mouse. 

There was a brief pause, then an idea sparked in your mother’s eyes as she looked at John one last time. "Why don’t you stay for dinner? Tonight is roasted chicken and mashed potatoes." How could he refuse? Spending more time with you was just the beginning of his obsession with protecting you and never letting you out of his sight. He smiled, his grin seemingly bigger than before, and nodded. "If Y/N doesn’t mind?" he said, his gaze shifting to you with a more serious expression. You gulped nervously, knowing you couldn’t just say no. "Yes—yes, of course," you stuttered. Oh, how adorable you looked.

“Then, make yourself at home dear.” 

Dinner was only just a few hours from now, with your father now back from work had asked for a personal photo with the Homelander, and a talk John appreciated more. Considering his own father exiling him completely, it was a breath of fresh air for him, especially when he’d be glancing a few times at you, doing whatever you had in mind before the dinner. “My daughter is going to be working for us,” your father would be saying proudly, Homelander could only nod listening actively. “She’d do a great addition I am certain.” his gaze now meeting yours immediately, when you gaze up from your book, he could notice a light shade of pink coming your cheeks. Cherishing it a little too much when your father’s voice then abrupt his mind, “She’s beautiful isn’t she?” he’d said a little too proud. 

She is indeed… Homelander thought to himself that same night. Just by how attentive he was with you. Even if it wasn’t  much of a conversation shared, the glances were enough to please him alone. Which during the dinner, he was not afraid to show. 

Dinner had passed rather quickly, you were glad it did. Considering you listening to whatever nonsense Homelander had to offer to keep your mother so relonctent toward him. Let alone, praise him as a her own god. Boosting an ego, to whom you couldn’t comprehend yourself, and that Homelander was sure to make it seem tonight. 

"Thank you so much for dinner, truly," Homelander said, wiping the corners of his mouth, his eyes never leaving you. Your mother’s gasp was enough to momentarily distract him, and he asked if everything was alright. She quickly assured him it was and invited him to stay until her cake was done baking. Naturally, John didn't decline the offer. "Y/N," your mother called your attention just as you were about to excuse yourself, "how about you give a little tour of the house? I'm sure Homelander would appreciate it." The formality of his name seemed daunting, but John quickly corrected her. "John it is. No need to be formal, now, do we?" A shiver crawled down your spine as your mother’s eyes gleamed with hope, her slender fingers clapping together. "Oh, well, of course! Now, Y/N, make yourself useful and make John feel at home." 

A sigh escaped your lips; there was no way to avoid this, was there? "Yes, of course. Where do you want to start?" Your eyes never left his, feeling yourself getting lost in them, becoming his little mouse to play with. "How about..." he began, his eyes wandering as if he couldn’t be bothered to think. "The bedroom," he finally said. You blinked twice, a third time to fully process his words. "What?" you replied, incredulous. He chuckled, amused by your reaction, and shrugged off the question as if he hadn’t meant it seriously. "Nah, kidding. Lead the way," he said. 

So you did. You felt his shadow hovering over you as you both walked through the house for a little tour. John was no longer hiding his presence, leaning in closer to you. You could feel his breath. By the time you reached your bedroom, the tour was complete, and your mother’s cake would be ready. However, John had something else in mind, and he wasn’t shy about showing it. “And this is the bedroom,” you said nonchalantly, hearing an obvious scoff from him. 

"Funny, isn’t it?" he said, this time his tone serious enough to make your muscles tense. His back was to you as his fingers touched the doorknob, ready to close the door. And he did, pausing momentarily. "Finally, we meet again." His remark made you tilt your head. Meet again? As far as you knew, he had been stalking you all along. But knowing who he was—Homelander, with his omniscience and twisted games—you had no say in the matter. Neither did you, especially after hearing his chuckle. 

“Now why so quiet?” the question was enough to make you unsease. You wanted to tell him, to oppose to him. But you couldn’t he was now yours to torment completely. When he leaned further, scoffing once more by your vulnerability. In that precise moment, Homelander knew he won. 

“Heard you were a good, fuck.” his voice so nonchanltly, a gasp leaving from your mouth as you were unable to speak more than standing right in front of him. How his eyes would wondered around your figure, approaching near to you, his fingers now leaning toward your waist. Gripping by its touch, hungry to fuck you there, in the bed. Raw. 

"Thank you?" you stammered, eager to please him. His grin broadened, fighting not to turn into a frown at your response. He was so satisfied that he gently caressed your cheek with his other finger. "You need me, not just to save you, but to satisfy you." Though your heart was broken, you were a toy Homelander cherished without fear. You were his perfect little toy, as he began to lick his bottom lip, his breath drawing closer, closing the gap between you. "Mine," he growled, his voice hoarse, undeniably hinting at his intentions. He was Homelander, able to do whatever he wanted. And that included you being his. "Got it, little mouse?"

Oh, how he longed to watch you squirm between his legs, begging for more, moaning his name. His persistence knew no bounds; he would do anything—from leaving bite marks to scratches, and even hickeys if necessary. But he couldn't just stand there without having a little fun, right?

"You see," he said, his voice dripping with teasing malice. Disgust welled up in your mouth, but you fought the urge to look away. He loved watching you squirm, the fear in your eyes fueling his twisted envy of every inch of you. "How about we play a little game tonight, hmm?" His thumb brushed gently over your chin, lifting your gaze to meet his.

"W-what game?" you managed to say, breaking your long silence. Even he was momentarily surprised, but your stutter made it worth it. "Hide and seek," he said, pausing for effect. "You hide, and I seek. If I find you, you're mine. Got that?"

You gave a quick nod, followed by a satisfied smile from him. "Good then, I'll start counting. One, two..." You hesitated for a moment, just as his grip shifted from your waist to your arm, preventing you from fleeing your own home. When your eyes met his, they were dark with passion, lust, and a desire to capture his little mouse until its very last breath. "Run..."

Little mouse.”

[bucknastysbabe]

Since you mentioned it before in a different post, and your asks are open… could you please do a smut piece with Jacaerys being shy about wanting a finger up his ass

YES I CAN! JACEYYYYYYY baby🥹🥹🥹so cute

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Jace in da north, Cregan’s sis, established lovers, inexperienced horse cock bb, blowjobs, wet and messy, anal fingering (m!receiving), prostate massage/milking, jace gets a lil cum drunk, fluffy

Taglist: @arcielee @aemonds-holy-milk @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @fairysluna @rafeism @howyouloveyourdragon @lovelykhaleesiii @valeskafics @sugarpoppss2 @jamespotterismydaddy

Her grey eyes twinkled as she rested a sharp cheek on his thigh. Jace was panting, his cheeks flushed as he tried to calm down. His cock laid heavy on his taught stomach, dripping pre down onto his light skin. The Stark slid her calloused hand up the prince’s side, cooing, “What did you want?”

Her lips were still swollen from the impossible stretch around his cock. Jacaerys Velaryon might have begged for something off the cuff while his she-wolf was kitten-licking the bulbous tip. Something something ‘please, more, want a finger.’ It was a moment of passion, alright? Jace had a tendency toward blurting his thoughts.

To which she pulled off with an intense look. Those solemn Stark features alight with something downright predatory. She ordered this time, “Tell me what you said, Jace. I’m not judging you.” The lady readjusted herself on the furs, gaze less wolfish. Both of her hands held his waist, thumbs circling gently.

The brunette swore he would start crying. Or explode in a great burst of fire from embarrassment. He bit down on his bottom lip, shakily exhaling. Jace mumbled, “I- I heard my uncle talking about it once. A spot for men…y’know, up their ass. While getting sucked off." He slung an arm over his eyes, groaning in embarrassment. His cock was beginning to soften.

Her hand curled back around him, the Stark laughing, "Nuh, uh, don't you dare. Never had a finger up the ass huh? You're adorable. We always say you Sothron folk are the wanton ones," Jace peered at her pretty face, "You're fine, no need to be shy. M'sure most men think about it. I think about it."

Jacaerys looked up, his curls matted a bit, eyes wide in shock. She didn't care? Still, his flush ran down to his chest but his thick cock was back to swelling up, stretching her hand out. She grinned, raspy brogue teasing, "I just got to get you nice n' wet prince." He groaned, head flying back onto the warm furs as her hand and mouth began to work him.

She drooled on the tip of his cock, bobbing and lapping, hand jerking the spit down and down. His thighs twitched, a shiver crawling up his spine as his cock was growing wetter than he imagined. The she-wolf spat again into her palm, moist tongue probing at the spot under his cockhead. Jace cried out, hand at her dark hair, thighs spreading on instinct.

Spit rolled down to his balls, falling into his crack. Arousal and embarrassment warred within his head, being so open for her in an unmanly place. His lover jerked him, the sloppy sound accompanying the fireplace. She had moved her lips to suckle at his swollen balls to further soak the area. He was making soft noises, writhing, lips unable to close at the pleasure. The she-wolf hummed lazily, shoving a digit into her stuffed mouth.

Jacaerys gasped, back arching when her spit-slick finger pressed against his tight hole. She spat again, eyes lidded, lips curled up into a smirk. "Easy now, easy dragon prince, I'll make you see stars." Jace gulped, placing his trust in her gentle forefinger, hand cautiously wrapped into her braided hair. He was panting now, legs pulling up to plant his heels down.

The small tip of her roughened finger slid through, Stark laughing softly at Jace's withering look. She wiggled in further, thumb sliding up to play with the tip of his cock as a distraction. He swallowed, mouth going dry as he rasped, "Unh...seven above...feels weird." She sighed, "S'okay, it'll get better, focus on your cock right now."

He nodded, swollen lips bitten downright red. The prince focused on her swirling thumb, thighs jumping again as the sensitive nerves pricked and tingled with every movement. He whined her name, eyes falling shut as he huffed. His lover had her finger fully in his ass now, probing.

Jacaerys tried to remain quiet, unsure of the feeling, it was strange and he felt too full. She twirled her wrist around, palm facing the stone and wood beam ceilings of Winterfell. She crooked her long finger up and Jace sharply cried out, eyes open in a flash. She had found it, fuck, his girl had found it. All the discomfort and questioning of manhood had flown out his ears.

Jace stated in a warble, "My, unhhh, Stark, s'that it."

"Yeah, that's it, lookit you, already leaking and trembling for me, sweet prince. You're gorgeous, untouched and mine now."

His dark eyes traveled down to his leaky prick, pooling cum in his belly. Liquid heat had spread from deep within, the root of his cock and balls feeling much too hot and sensitive. He flushed, the feeling almost akin to having to piss...Sweet Mother above do not let that be a thing!

"You're fine, jus' milking you out, s'intense," she rambled, dark grey orbs piercing. She used her messy free hand to pat his flank, offering a kiss on his hip. The Northwoman cooed more, stroking his sweet spot in a pointed massage, not missing a beat. Jace spread his legs like a common whore, breathlessly begging for her to suck him too. He wanted all of it, this all-encompassing feeling.

She complied, not before slipping her middle finger alongside her pointer, still working that little gland with steady circles. Jacaerys didn't realize, he was so caught up in pleasure and writhing around on soft furs. The prince could laugh at himself, he was no better than the deviant Aegon.

Aegon did not have a she-wolf. He had whores. Craven.

Stark sucked down his cock again, her slick throat convulsing around his prick. She eased off and kept her shallow bobs, sucking on the head, applying more pressure as she hollowed stretched lips. Jacaerys spurt onto her tongue, apologizing, "M'sorry, darling, can't stop right now!"

Her muffled laugh was the response, grey eyes rolling amusedly. Jace tugged her braid softly, pouting. Another pump of cum emptied into her mouth, Jace slack jawed as she seemed to push more and more out of him, sucking it all down as she milked him.

He whined deep in his chest, hips weakly bucking as his thoughts grew slow and dumb. Jacaerys was paralyzed with silky, syrupy pleasure. His energy was being drained right out of his cock. She sped up her little movements, Jace slurring the she-wolf’s pretty name. The bone deep heat in his body seemed to rise up, the prince’s noises growing more frequent.

He struggled for breath as the intense feeling crawled up his belly. Jacaerys knew he was about to cum— but he’d been steadily pouring a river down her mouth. He bit his lip, tanned skin erupting into goosebumps, sweat beading on his forehead. She swallowed hard, fingers driving up, up, up. He whimpered, blinking and scrabbling at the furs and her soft hair.

He cried out sharply as the hot flames reached his chest, convulsing and moaning in confusion. Wave after wave of intense bliss wracked Jace’s body, something among the likes he’d never felt before. Stark dutifully drank him down, removing her fingers, Jacaerys whining again at the strange emptiness. He babbled a broken sentence, no clue what he was on about.

She crawled up his shaking frame, curling next to him, rubbing the young man’s flank. “Oh, you needed that hm?”

He nodded, boneless and floating. She pressed a little kiss to his reddened lips, Jace smiling wearily and returning the favor. The girl murmured, “I quite adore you too, dragon prince. Let’s lay around for a while before Cregan comes a’ knockin.”

“P-please.”

Jace burrowed his head into the crook of her neck, her comforting scent around him. He needed much rest now, eyes growing droopy. The prince snuggled in close, burrowing into her and the wonderful furs. The fire crackled on as she rasped little praises and pet his curls. He would never leave this bed if he could, the heir decided. A grin split across his blissful expression, hugging his darling she-wolf tight.

[slytherinslut0]

MATTHEO RIDDLE- Beg For Me

Chapter Eleven-Info: You and Mattheo have been butting heads for months, since you were assigned as his tutor, and one day during a session full of tense bickering, he has enough.

(This will essentially be a toxic book where we are Theos fucktoy. No love here, very minimal fluff.)

Tags: 18+, Sub!Reader, Dom!Mattheo, Dirty Talk, Toxic Behaviour, Jealousy, Possessive Behaviours, Manipulation, Sexual Aggression, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, Slytherin!Boys, Weaponizing!EnzoBerkshire.

****FIND THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS HERE.

Friday morning arrived, but you found yourself ensnared by an unwelcome visitor: illness. Your usual vibrant energy was replaced by a lethargic heaviness, your throat scratchy, and your head pounding with each heartbeat. Emily's concerned eyes followed your every move at the breakfast table, her worried whispers barely audible above the hum of the Great Hall.

Thursday had been a disaster. Despite the guild meeting's anticipation, you couldn't summon an ounce of excitement. The prospect of seeing Tom, once a source of thrill and exciting opportunities, now felt like a daunting challenge. As you walked past him, you avoided his gaze, keeping your eyes fixed on the floor and not daring to converse with him outside of a few small shared words during the meeting. Ignoring him was a desperate attempt to shield yourself from the whirlwind of conflicting emotions that threatened to consume you.

Every fiber of your being wanted to be excited, but the illness, accompanied by the haunting words from Mattheo, had drained you of joy and left only a hollow emptiness. The guild meeting, once a highlight of your week, felt like a distant obligation. Your world had shifted, leaving you adrift in a sea of uncertainty and discomfort, the very essence of your existence shaken by the turmoil within.

"Are you okay?" Emily's voice sliced through the quiet, laced with concern. "You look like you're about to faint."

"I'm just not feeling well," you replied, your voice barely audible above the buzz of the Great Hall.

The words that left your lips were somewhat true, but they were a mask over your real problems. A torrent of conflicting emotions churned within you, the chaos of Mattheo's unpredictable behavior warring with the complexities of your situation with Tom. Each thought pulled you in a different direction, leaving you in a state of internal turmoil that threatened to consume you whole. Despite your efforts to hide it, the storm inside your mind was evident in your eyes, a silent plea for understanding that you were desperate to keep hidden.

Emily's concerned expression softened into one of understanding, her eyes reflecting the depth of her friendship with you. She didn't press further, sensing the boundaries you had set. Instead, she offered you a gentle, reassuring smile.

"You've been working so hard," she said, softly. "You should cancel your tutoring tonight. You need a bloody night off--you're working yourself sick."

Internally, your turmoil grew. If only Emily knew the real reason behind your illness, the tangled web of secrets and emotions that threatened to suffocate you. The rule-breaking involvement with Mattheo weighed heavily on your conscience, a constant reminder of the dangerous path you were treading, one that was bound to explode at some point, one that was certain to bring your entire world crashing down with it when it did.

Yet, you couldn't bring yourself to confide in Emily, to burden her with the knowledge of your own reckless choices. The fear of judgment and the complexities of your feelings kept you silent, trapped in a cycle of self-imposed secrecy.

"I appreciate your concern, Emily," you replied, forcing a weak smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. "I honestly think I might just do that...I'm going to tell him now."

Emily's face fell, her eyes widening with a mix of worry and disbelief. She opened her mouth as if to say something, but the words died on her lips. Before she could voice her concerns or attempt to hold you back, you were already rising from your seat, your determination etched on your face like a battle flag. With every step toward the Slytherin table, your gaze bored into Mattheo's disheveled appearance like a laser, an unspoken challenge burning in your eyes.

Your feet carried you forward with purpose, each step echoing your heartbeat which relentlessly thundered in your ears, drowning out the ambient sounds of the bustling Great Hall. The world around you blurred, the faces of your fellow students becoming mere smudges of colour as you zeroed in on Mattheo. A surge of adrenaline coursed through your veins, urging you forward even as doubt gnawed at the edges of your mind.

As you drew closer, you realized the gravity of your decision, the precariousness of the situation you were about to confront, but in that moment, you knew you were already in too deep, you knew that there was no turning back.

"Riddle."

You uttered, your voice slicing through the air like a dagger. However, it was as if your words were swallowed by an invisible void; no one at the table even remotely acknowledging your presence.

"Riddle."

You repeated, your tone sharper this time. This caught Draco Malfoy's attention, his sharp, silver eyes locking onto yours with predatory amusement. His smirk, a cruel curve etched on his lips, seemed to mock your efforts. You shot him an eye roll, dismissing his silent taunts, but it only fueled his amusement, his head tilting slightly in enjoyment. Frustration simmered beneath your skin, a restless energy seeking an outlet. Exasperation surged through you, a tempest of emotions threatening to burst from within.

"Mattheo!"

You finally exclaimed, the name carrying the weight of your frustration and determination. The word hung in the air like a thunderclap, freezing everyone at the Slytherin table in their tracks. The effect was immediate and profound. It was as if you had tossed a live wire onto the table, sending shockwaves through the once-buzzing atmosphere.

A sudden, eerie silence descended upon the Slytherin table. The lively chatter ceased abruptly, and every single pair of eyes turned toward you with an intensity that bordered on disbelief. Berkshire, Zabini, Nott, Black, Malfoy, and Riddle, as well as a few unfamiliar faces, locked their gazes onto yours, each expression mirroring a different shade of astonishment--ranging in various raised eyebrows to widened, shocked eyes.

Before you had a chance to compose yourself, Berkshire, seated directly in front of you, sported a wide, contemptuous grin, his eyes gleaming with disdain.

"Well, well, look who's decided to grace us with her presence," Enzo sneered, his tone dripping with condescension. "Did you finally tire of your precious textbooks, sweetheart? Or are you just here to make a fool of yourself?"

Mattheo's eyes widened in mild astonishment, his usual mask of indifference momentarily slipping as he watched the scene unfold. His lips twitched, almost forming a smirk, but he remained silent, keenly observing the confrontation.

You straightened your back, your gaze unwavering as you met Enzo's sneer head-on. "I'm not here to entertain you, Enzo," you replied, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. "But if you have nothing else to do besides insult people, maybe you should consider finding a hobby that doesn't involve being an insufferable prat."

The table fell into a stunned silence, the previous atmosphere of mockery dissipating like smoke in the wind. Enzo's sneer faltered, his expression contorting into a mixture of surprise and indignation.

Zabini raised an eyebrow in mild amusement. "Looks like this raven has some fuckin' claws...watch out boys..."

Nott stifled a laugh behind his hand, clearly entertained by the unexpected turn of events. Black shot you an approving nod, wordlessly acknowledging your verbal victory, and even Malfoy, though still aloof, seemed intrigued by your bold response.

Mattheo's eyes, however, bore into yours with an unreadable intensity, a hint of something flickering beneath the surface--mixture of surprise, pride, and a touch of something more complicated. Enzo's face flushed with anger, his eyes narrowing into slits as he prepared a retort. However, before he could unleash his reply, Mattheo's voice sliced through the tension like a dagger.

"What do you want, Raven?" His tone was calm, collected, almost entirely unfazed.

Inhaling deeply, you mustered your courage and looked directly into Mattheo's eyes. "I won't be able to make it for potions tonight," you stated firmly, your voice unwavering despite the charged atmosphere. "Feeling a bit under the weather."

Mattheo's lips curled into a subtle smirk, a glint of mischief in his eyes. "Under the weather, huh?" he said, his tone laced with feigned concern. "Such a shame. I suppose I'll have to find another way to occupy my evening."

There was a playful challenge in his words, hinting at an unspoken understanding between the two of you. Around the table, the boys exchanged raised eyebrow glances, their expressions laced with sadistic curiosity. Their eyes flicked between you and Mattheo, absorbing the interaction with keen interest, as if trying to unravel the depth of the connection between the two of you. The atmosphere crackled with unspoken tension, each of them leaning in slightly, eager to catch any nuances in your conversation, their curiosity piqued by the intriguing dynamic at play.

"I suppose you will," you said, your voice laced with venom. "Enjoy your evening, Riddle."

Just as you attempted to leave, a cold, harsh grip closed around your wrist, making you gasp in surprise. Glancing down, you found Berkshire's twisted face leering up at you, a sadistic smirk playing on his lips.

"If you ever need help getting that stick out of your uptight ass, I'd consider lending a hand," his eyes glinted with malicious intent as he taunted, "of course, for the right price...I'm not as generous as Mattheo."

Your eyes narrowed, fury burning in your veins like wildfire. "Mattheo, generous?" you scoffed, disbelief lacing your words. "That's the last word I'd associate him with."

Berkshire's lips twisted into a cruel smile, his eyes glinting with sadistic satisfaction. "Oh, trust me, little bird," he sneered, leaning in closer, "generosity might not be his best feature--but sometimes, when you're dealing with snakes, it's better to know which one bites less."

His grip tightened briefly before he released you, leaving you seething with anger and frustration. Mattheo's jaw clenched visibly, his fingers curling into fists at Berkshire's audacious words. His eyes narrowed, a storm of anger brewing beneath the surface, but he maintained his composure.

"Watch your tongue, Berkshire." With a chilling calmness, he spoke, his voice laced with a warning tone. "And what did I tell you about fucking touching her?"

His words hung heavy in the air, a subtle threat underlying the calm facade. The atmosphere grew tenser, and even Berkshire seemed to falter slightly under the weight of Mattheo's gaze. The unspoken tension between the two boys crackled, leaving an electric charge in the room.

But then, Berkshire's lips curled into a sinister smile, as if he'd just come to some sudden realization, his eyes glinting with malicious amusement.

"My apologies, Riddle," he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, glancing around at all of the other boys at the table. "I didn't realize she was off-limits...but, I have to say, it's quite intriguing, isn't it? The way you guard her so fiercely. Makes one wonder just how close you two really are."

Your irritation swelled, the annoyance becoming almost tangible. How had you thought Mattheo's snark was bad? This guy was in an entire fucking league of his own.

"What truly intrigues me is how someone as insufferable as you manages to function on a daily basis," you hissed, each word dripping with venom, spat out through gritted teeth. "I didn't think it was possible to be more arrogant than Mattheo, but I suppose congratulations are in order. At least you win at something, unlike Quiddit-"

Before you could finish your sentence, Berkshire erupted from his seat, his face contorted with rage, poised to confront you, stalling your lungs in your chest. The rest of the boys swiftly intervened, seizing him and forcefully yanking him back down into his seat, averting a potential escalation of yet another confrontation, each of them exchanging uneasy glances.

Mattheo's demeanor was a storm of barely restrained fury, his eyes dark and blazing with intensity. Despite his efforts to remain composed, the anger seeping from him was palpable, casting a shadow over the entire table.

You shot a scathing look at Berkshire, his gaze avoiding yours as he muttered bitter words under his breath, unwilling to engage in anymore direct confrontation.

Despite the tension, your voice dripped with disdain as you whispered, "bloody pathetic."

The words hung in the air, heavy with disgust, lingering like a ghostly mist--and before anyone had a chance to say anything else, you turned on your heel and left the hall. Each step echoed the frustration and anger that churned within you, the atmosphere thick with the lingering tension of the encounter. As you stormed down the corridor, your footsteps reverberating off the stone walls, you couldn't shake off the seething anger that clung to you like a second skin.

The distant echoes of the Great Hall's chaos faded into the background as you retreated into the quiet corridor, seeking solace from the storm you had unleashed. Just as you began to regain a semblance of composure, Mattheo's voice cut through the air like a sharp blade, his frustration palpable in the way he growled your name. You turned to face him, meeting his intense gaze, where anger and concern danced in his eyes like a tempest.

"The hell was that, Raven? What were you fucking thinking?" he demanded, his footsteps closing in with purposeful strides. His voice, though edged with annoyance, held an undercurrent of worry. "Starting a fight with Berkshire in the middle of the Great Hall? Are you trying to draw unnecessary attention to us?"

"You think I fucking started that?" Your eyes flashed with defiance, refusing to back down despite the intensity of Mattheo's gaze.

"I won't stand there and let him disrespect me, Mattheo," you retorted, your voice cutting through the silence with sharp precision. The weight of his annoyance only fueled your determination. "I'm already your doormat, I won't be his too."

There was a challenging edge to your words, a fire that refused to be extinguished, even in the face of Mattheo's frustration. It was a declaration of your unwillingness to be treated as less than you were worth, a resolve that echoed in the defiant set of your shoulders and the unwavering determination in your eyes. Mattheo's jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing with a menacing intensity. He closed the distance between you in a few more swift strides, his presence overwhelming.

"You're not my doormat, Raven," he hissed, his voice low and dangerous. "But if you keep pushing...if you keep running your mouth like that, you might just find out what it feels like to be truly under someone's heel...I can't keep defending you without drawing suspicion."

"Oh, look at you...big tough guy, huh?" Your defiance blazed in your eyes, undeterred by Mattheo's threats. You stepped forward, kinking your neck back to catch his eyes. "What are you going to do about it, hm? Get out the belt again? We both know I can handle more than that, Riddle..."

"You're playing with fire, princess..." Mattheo warned, his tone dripping with dark amusement as it dropped to a low whisper. "And we both know how that usually ends, don't we?"

His smirk, etched with wicked allure, deepened into a predatory grin. His eyes, like shards of obsidian, glittered with a potent mixture of dominance and danger. Leaning in, he invaded your personal space, his head tilting slightly as his gaze flickered to your lips, an unspoken challenge lingering in the air. Your pulse quickened, each beat echoing the intensity of the moment. Despite the adrenaline surging through your veins, you met his eyes with unwavering courage, a silent declaration that you would not be easily swayed by his aura of power and intrigue.

"Seems like that's all I do these days," you whispered back, allowing your defiance to blow away with the wind as you remembered why you even ventured to his table in the first place. "I can't do this anymore, Mattheo...I can't keep doing this...whatever the fuck this even is in the first place..."

Mattheo's eyes softened, his usual facade cracking for a moment as he reached out, his thumb tracing a gentle line along your jaw.

"Raven," he murmured, his voice filled with a complexity of emotions, "we're in too deep now...you and I both know there's no turning back..."

The dim light of the corridor cast deep shadows across Mattheo's features, highlighting the sharp angles of his face. His eyes, normally ablaze with confidence, were now clouded with uncertainty, a storm of conflicting emotions. His dark hair fell messily over his forehead, adding to the enigmatic aura that surrounded him. As he leaned in, the scent of his cologne wrapped around you, intoxicating and alluring.

"No, Mattheo..." you breathed, turning your head to avoid his lips. "You said no strings but there seems to be a lot of fucking strings...it’s all too much…”

Your inner turmoil churned like a tempest within, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions tearing at the very core of your existence. There was an ache nestled deep in your chest, a painful acknowledgment that you were bound to Mattheo in ways that defied logic and reason. The desire for something genuine, something profound and real, clashed violently with the brutal truth that it could never be.

It was a cruel paradox: Mattheo's possessiveness, his insistence on claiming you, even in the shadowy realms of secrecy, left you feeling both wanted and yet painfully isolated. The longing for an authentic connection battled relentlessly with the reality that this clandestine affair could never transform into something meaningful. You found yourself ensnared in a complex web, a moth irresistibly drawn to a flame, unable to resist its allure despite the inevitable burn.

His games and possessive gestures were merely agonizing reminders of the insurmountable boundaries. Yet, the magnetic pull of his presence, the way he ignited a fire within you, kept you entangled in this perilous dance. Your feelings for him were perplexing, a tumultuous mix of intense desire and seething resentment. He made you experience emotions you had never felt before, confusing you with the sheer intensity of your reactions.

You hated him, despised the way he treated you, yet he had an inexplicable power over you, making you feel both alive and trapped simultaneously. The dichotomy between the pleasure he brought and the pain he inflicted left you utterly confounded, adrift in a sea of emotions, desperately searching for an anchor that seemed forever out of reach.

Mattheo's eyes softened even further as he blinked, catching the flicker of turmoil in your gaze. He stepped back, the intensity of the moment breaking as he ran a hand through his tousled hair, a gesture of frustration and resignation.

"You're just not feeling well..." he said, his voice void of emotion, as though your turmoil was inconsequential, as though your current health state somehow made any fucking difference. "Get some rest, Raven. See you Wednesday."

His words hung in the air like a bitter aftertaste, a reminder of the futility of your situation. With a final, detached glance, he turned away and spun down the dimly lit hall, his figure gradually fading into the shadows. The weight of his indifference settled on your shoulders, a heavy burden that mirrored the ache in your heart. As he disappeared from view, you stood there, alone in the corridor, feeling both abandoned and entangled, like a moth caught in a web of its own making.

—————-

Chapter twelve->

[minimomoe]

Hi just wanted to let you know I LOVEDDD Not Just Neighbors but I have a question does reader know about Logan and variant reader in his past universe and if she doesn’t then who would tell her and how would she react?would she be understanding?or would she feel like Logan’s only with her to fill in variant readers place? (I don’t know if your requests are open so you can ignore this if not or if you don’t feel comfortable answering :D)

For the sake of keeping it a short (I tried my hardest but ik it's long lol) oneshot reader understands that she might have meant something to Logan in his universe but doesn't press on it since he seldom talks about his past. I kinda wrote that whole story on a whim so I didn't think too hard about it. Since you asked so nicely, here's an alternate excerpt of how that realization could've went: wrd ct: 1.9k tags: a little angsty but that's all

Not a Replacement

"Wade you gotta tell me. We're on better terms now, but why did Logan hate me so much? I hardly ever talked to him but when he sees me his face scrunches up like he smells shit. Do I smell like shit? Be honest."

Wade's nose went straight to the crook of your neck and you rolled your eyes before shoving him away. "What?! You said to be honest. You smell great though," he shrugged.

"Okay, so what was it?"

"What is what?"

You pinched the bridge of your nose. Your patience was running thin and you didn't have time for Wade's games. "What was the reason? He's your roommate, you gotta know something."

You were sitting at Wade's dining table and you saw the food in his mouth slow to snail speed. His eyes darted to you for only a second but it was all you needed.

"Wade," you said in a warning tone. "Do you know something?"

"I know a lot of things. For instance, I know that you are the best damn cook in this whole apartment building, you're insanely gorgeous, you hate when people keep secrets, and did I mention how really fucking pretty you are?"

"You better tell me or so help me god every plate I bring you will be under seasoned and burnt to a crisp."

"Okay fine!" He dropped his sandwich onto his plate and crossed his arms over his chest. You scooched your chair in closer, finally ready to hear an explanation. "You better not tell anyone you found out from me or steak knives is gonna cut my dick off again."

"Again?" You gave him a concerned look.

"Don't try to change the subject, missy. The truth of the matter is that our resident honey badger might like you a lot more than he lets on. I am risking so much by telling you this."

"From my understanding you can't die, so how much are you really risking?"

"You don't live with him, smartass," he grumbled. Wade scratched the back of his neck, suddenly a lot more serious than you usually see him and he looked almost... apologetic. You straightened up when he hesitantly opened his mouth again. "I explained the different timelines, right? Logan isn't from our time line, I plucked from a different one and tricked him into helping me. The thing is, these timelines can be very similar to each other."

You understood it well, or as much as you could, from the first time Wade explained it to you. Time traveling, anchor beings, Paradox and Cassandra Nova all seemed too ridiculous to be true, but you knew Wade wouldn't lie about such a thing. Plus you know about mutants and Wade's regenerative powers. Of course crazier things existed.

"I'm picking up what you're putting down. What does this have to do with Logan's apprehension towards me?"

Wade sighed, running his hand over his face. "It's not apprehension, okay? Look, I noticed it too. The way that he acted like he might explode if you come too close. He knew you, and I mean knew you, personally— intimately, before and now you don't even recognize his face. I know that feels fucking horrible."

Wade stared down at his sandwich somberly like he was speaking from experience. You fell silent, ruminating on his words.

Intimately. You have never met anyone like Logan before, but he already knew you. There was nothing you could even compare this to. You slowly got up from your seat and patted Wade on the shoulder. Your mood was dampening at the new information.

"Uh, thanks man."

"This is why I didn't want to tell you. I don't blame you but you're all weird now," he groaned. "You're not a replacement. She could've been entirely different. She could've be Catholic."

He was expecting a smirk from you at the very least but got nothing. "That doesn't really help."

Wade watched you slump out of his apartment to head back to yours without another word. He could literally see the cloud of gloom forming over your head and he groaned dramatically.

"Canadians are supposed to be nice people. I should know! Leave it to the Australian to ruin that for us."

---*---

Logan could smell the difference in your mood around him. You were on edge, giving him sneaking side eyes when you thought he wasn't looking and nervously biting on your thumbnail. Something was bothering you, something pertaining to him, and you didn't know how to bring it up.

It would be hypocritical of him to drag out the issue with you, but he never played fair before.

"If you stare at me any harder bub, you're gonna put a hole in my head."

He offered to take you out to get dinner instead of staying in. It was nothing fancy, just a small Indian restaurant that he found on a whim, but he remembered you saying that it was one of your favorite ethnic foods to eat. The short walk back to home was just to kill more time to spend with you, but you were hardly saying anything.

You pinched your bottom lip between your two fingers, rolling it over slowly. "It's nothing. I'm just tired, that's all."

The dismissive answer did nothing for Logan. He gave you a hard stare that you didn't return. Instead you walked a few paces ahead of him, leaving him behind.

"Hey!" Logan called out to you, grabbing your arm. You reeled back, shaking him off and pursed your lips together. The sudden coldness wafting off of you made him panic internally. Did he say something he shouldn't have? Did you suddenly get tired of keeping things friendly. Was he reading you all wrong? All those questions burned the back of his throat but he rather ask the obvious one.

"I've seen you tired and this ain't it. What's the problem?"

Finally you returned his gaze with an cautionary look. "What really happened between us Logan? In the past, or a different timeline, or whatever the fuck. How much history is between us?"

The question knocked Logan over like a mack truck. This was not the type of conversation he wanted to have with you in the middle of the street with cars honking and passersby brushing past, but you were standing your ground. Logan ran a weary hand through his hair then rested it on his hip. If he wanted to make this work with you, he'd have to be honest with himself.

“Did Wilson run his mouth—“

“Forget about him. I’m asking you.”

He stared at you dead on, looking into your eyes that were uncertain of him. "You left me.”

You stiffened up, the statement making you falter.

"And I'm not saying that to make you feel bad. You gave me chance after chance to get my shit together and I didn't. I was breaking your heart and you didn't want to stick around to watch me crash."

Logan sat down on the nearest street bench. The headlights of oncoming traffic blinded his visage with a pure bright white before turning. He could hear your pleas from time's past, your dissapointed tone. He could hear the screams of his x-men, his family that he left behind.

"You visited me after they... after the humans killed the x-men. You saw the damage that was done and you hated me for it."

Logan felt the thud of you sitting on the other side of the bench. He didn't look at you, now taken with his memories, but you were no longer on the run. You wanted to hear his side that he never got to tell anyone.

"They were like family to you too. Ororo, Charles, Jean, Scott. You loved them, so when you found out that they were gone and I was still alive..." Logan's voice trailed off and his head hung low. "I was never a hero. Or a good guy. I was a selfish asshole who left when things got tough. I couldn't save my relationship with you, or save the people I owe my life to because the only thing I'm good at is destroying things. Then I come to this world and you givin' me this bright eyed, hopeful look and I couldn't handle it."

New York City has never been known as a quiet city but there was an eerie silence that ensued. It was like everybody was holding their breath, silently listening to Logan’s darkest confessions.

"I wasn't trying to hide anything from you. What I did before keeps me up at night, eats me from inside. But being around you again... shit, it reminds me that I didn't lose everything.”

A long beat of silence stretched after Logan's words. You stared into on coming traffic too, unable to form words. You held your arms together, the cool breeze of the night chilling your bones.

“Fuck,” you sighed, a wave a guilt washing over you. “I shouldn’t have pushed you.”

He shook his head. “You have the right to know.”

“I just made you spill your guts out on this public bench because I was worried that I was some freaky look a like for somebody that you used to know.” You put your head in your hands and groaned. “I can’t speak for past me because she isn’t me… but I am glad to have you here in this timeline, Logan. If it’s any consolation, it seems like we were always supposed to find each other.”

Logan couldn’t be more grateful for that fact. He never sought out to use you to fix some broken piece in him. It just happened that if given the chance, he would choose to love you every single time. Given all his mistakes, loving you was never a wrong choice.

You scooted closer to Logan’s still body, closing the distance until your thigh was pressed against his. You leaned over until your head was resting on his shoulder, soaking up his body heat. Neither of you said anything for a while. You didn’t need to.

Logan’s voice travelled through your body when he spoke again. It was gruff, making him clear his throat before starting over. “They had a nickname for me according to the TVA. They called me 'the Worst Logan'.”

“Do you believe that?” You peered up at him. It was that same look that made him want to run for the hills. You were disarming without even trying. He felt naked, unable to hide his beating heart that you held in your hands. After a thick swallow he was able to answer.

“Not as much. I’m better than before.”

You nodded, content with his response. “And you’ll keep on getting better. The TVA doesn’t know what they’re talking about anyway.”

You slipped your hand under Logan’s that rested on his thigh and he quickly squeezed it like a lifeline.

“I’m not subbing you in for anyone, bub. Plus, past you was never this sappy,” he joked.

“Oh fuck off,” you chuckled. “But thank you. For telling me everything.”

“You’re easy to talk to,” he shrugged.

You and Logan remained on the bench for a little while longer. The sleepless city continued to hum along, cars honking and people talking, and you sat there absorbing it all, hands still entwined together.

thank you so much for the request! sorry it took so long, I was trying to balance angst and good ending. Check out Not Just Neighbors ("the worst" Logan x Reader) for more context! I'd love to hear y'all thoughts xx!!

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[larluce]

Arthur thinks Merlin was raped (but he wasn't)

This is kind of a prequel to this post, click here if you want more context -> LINK

Tagging @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @odinjm , @hssmaureader , @daniella0 , @stressed-but-chill , @smileytrinity

When Arthur finds Merlin in the woods after being lost for 3 weeks, he feels so much joy. He doesn't remember feeling so much joy in his life. Merlin is dirty, his clothes riped and with dry blood, but alive. And that’s all he cares right now.

Arthur: (more than happy and relieved) Merlin! I thought we lost you (goes to him to give him a hug, thinking) That I lost you.

Merlin: (Backs away quickly before Arthur can hug him, wide eye and terrified)

Arthur: (confused) Merlin?

Gwain: Merls, it's us, relax (extends a hand)

Merlin: (shakes his head, frantic, and goes limping to hide behind a tree)

Lancelot: (worried) Merlin... (aproaches carefully) Merlin, it's okay. You're safe now (extends his hand, gently, with a reassuring smile).

Merlin: (shakes his head again and tries to say something but he can't, so he whimpers quietly)

Lancelot: No touching, alright. (Lifts his hands in surrender) No one is going to touch you.

Arthur: (approaches as carefully as Lancelot did) Do you recognise us? (Thinking, begging) Please, say you do.

Merlin: (Nods and tries to speak again, but closes his mouth, frustrated)

Arthur: (realises, heartbroken) You can't speak.

Arthur and the knights can only imagine the horrors Merlin endured. It's obvious he was tortured but they didn't know how much of his new behaviour is result of physical damage or trauma. For example, is Merlin too traumatized to speak or is he physically unable? Did his tortures cut his tonge? Damaged his vocal chords? And what the hell have they done to Merlin to make him so afraid of human touch?

With a lot of reassuring and patience, they manage to bring Merlin back to Camelot. It was difficult not to touch him when he kept limping and falling. And Merlin refused to use a horse for some reason, no matter how much they insisted, so they had to get a cart to transport him. When they finally arrive, they bring him to Gaius immediately so the physician can check him, but Merlin doesn't let him touch him either and he locks himself in his room. It takes days for Gaius to have a formal diagnosis for the king.

Gaius: (reports painfully) He was starved, beaten, cut, whiped and burned several times for what I could see.

Arthur: For what you could see?

Gaius: He wouldn't let me see all the wounds (sighs). He was also immobilized with chains by the wrists, ankles and neck. He must have struggled a lot because the marks of the chains are actually worse than the torture itself.

Arthur: (his heart aching for Merlin and burning in fury for the bastards who did this, composes himself just enough to ask again) His voice... did they...did they cut his-

Gaius: No, sire. He's physically able to talk He's just too traumatized to do it. It might take a while for him to talk again.

Arthur: (sighs releaved, but still fill with sorrow) Why? Why would they do this to him? Merlin never hurt anyone, who would want to- (stops when he sees Gaius apprehensive expression) You know something.

Gaius: (hesitantly) Merlin can't speak but he can still write, sire. He... he managed to write me some things.

Arthur: (raises his voice, angry) And you tell me this now?! What did he write?

Gaius: ...

Arthur: (demands) Gaius, I order you to tell me.

Gaius: (sighs) Apparently the bandits that captured him wanted... information sire. To know all the weak spots of the castle... and everything related to you.

Arthur: (open his eyes wide, horrified and devastated, and sinks in a nearby chair) No...

Gaius: He didn't say a thing, sire. You don't have anything to wo-

Arthur: (explodes) I know he didn't! That idiot! He should have told them everything! I wouldn't have blamed him, but of course he didn't. I whish he had (breaks down and cries) This is all my fault.

Gaius: (comforting him, a hand on Arthur's shoulder) This is no one's fault but theirs. You can't prevent every conspiration, attack or attemp murder directed at you. You're the king. It's expected.

Arthur: I should have protected him better, found him sooner. I should-

Gaius: Dwelling on what if scenarios won't help you. And it definitely won't help Merlin. What he needs now is for you to be there for him, be strong for him

So Arthur does just that. When Merlin keeps locking himself in his room and refuses to leave, Arthur visits him at the door and slide pieces of paper through the door crack so Merlin can write the words he can't speak and they can have a small talk at least once a day. Arthur can hear things being thrown and broken constantly and, the first days, Merlin doesn't even pick up the paper. When Merlin finally does, the paper is returned with a short messages along the lines of "Go away", "Leave me alone" to which Arthur reponds firmly he won't, he never will, every single time. Then Merlin's messages turn longer little by little and Arthur's one sided conversations with the door are over.

The day Merlin finally leaves his room and resumes his duties is a blessing as much as it is a curse. Arthur is glad and greatful at Merlin's progress, but seeing him doing his chores silently, just noding or shaking his head when asked something, and without sharing a single smile is painful. Merlin still doesn't let anyone touch him, which everyone respects, but is specially difficult for Arthur since, he realises, he used to manhandle his manservant a lot. They still comunicate through papers when necessary, but is just not the same.

A particular day Merlin almost falls down the stairs and Arthur, forgetting his manservant boundaries for a second, catches him in reflex.

Merlin: (separates from Arthur in full panic mode, screaming) NO!

Arthur: I'm so sorry, Merlin! I didn't mean-wait (open his eyes wide in surprise) You talked?

Merlin: (unsure, repeats) No? (brings a hand to his mouth in surprise and repeats, fearful) No? (his hand goes to his neck, nervous, as if expecting something bad to happen, but then he smiles brightly and shouts, very excited) No!😃 NO!😄

Arthur: (laughs in excitment, so happy he might cry) Your voice is back! You can talk again! (about to go for a hug)

Merlin: (lifts his hands, warnly) No!😠

Arthur: (lifts his hands too, quickly) Right, sorry. (They both lower their hands at the same time) Ahm... Is 'no' the only word you can say?

Merlin: (shrugs)

Arthur: Come one, try something else.

Merlin: (hesitanly) Ar...thur?

Arthur: See? You can talk.

Merlin: (smiles softly, and says fondly) Arthur. (tries to say something more elaborated, but in the end only manages to say again) Arthur. (Purses his lips, frustrated)

Arthur: (smiles at him fondly) One word at a time, don't force yourself. I can't believe I'm saying this, but it's good to hear your annoying voice again. (thinking) And hearing you saying my name and smiling. How much I missed that smile.

After that, Merlin is able to give short answers. First from 1 to 3 words and later one sentence or two. He's also more expressive now with his features, not as much as he was before, but he makes small frowns and gives small smiles from time to time. Arthur craves those moments. Even if Merlin's face contorts in fury because Arthur tried to exclude him from going on trips with him to protect him, or because Arthur doesn't do things like throwing things at him anymore because he believes Merlin's made of cristal. Arthur can’t help feeling happy because Merlin's face is finally wearing some emotion.

Then comes the day Arthur sees Merlin having a nightmare.

Arthur finds Merlin fallen asleep in his bed. Before Arthur would have get mad, but he knows through Gaius that Merlin hasn’t been sleeping well so he lets him. He starts checking his informs when suddenly he hears Merlin crying for help. Arthur runs to him inmediatly.

Merlin: (begs in his sleep, moving and crying desperatly) No! Anything but that, please.

Arthur: (tries to wake him up without touching him) Merlin, it's just a nightmare. Wake up.

Merlin: (doesn’t wake up and cries more painfully) Please! Hurts too much! Please! Stop!

Arthur: Merlin-

Merlin: Arthur! Arthur, I'm here! Please! Arthur!

Arthur: (shouts) Merlin!

Merlin: (wakes up abruptly and checks desperatly his wrists and neck)

Arthur: (comforting him) You are safe. You are in Camelot. You are safe.

Merlin: (wipes his tears and looks around) I fell asleep in your bed. I'm sorry.

Arthur: (smiles) It’s okay. (Wants to put a comforting hand on his shoulder but restrains himself) You were having a nightmare.

Merlin: I... I don't want to talk about it.

Arthur: Alright. But if you ever want to. Just know that I'm here to listen.

Merlin: (Nods in understanding and sighs) I'll get back to work. (Stands up)

Arthur: (complains, but not really) As you should. Those chores aren’t going to make theirselfs, you know?

Merlin: (smiles a little, cause he knows what Arthur is doing) Right away, sire. (Leaves)

After that, Arthur asks Gaius if he knows what Merlin's dream are about exactly, because it seemed there was a especific type of torture Merlin dreaded the most, but while Gaius seems to know, he refuses to tell him, even when he commands him. "It's not my place to tell" It's all physician says. It bugs Arthur the rest of the day. It's not until Arthur leads a trial of a rape victim that devasting realisation hits him.

That girl, that poor girl acts just like Merlin. Not letting anyone touch her, barely speaking. There are marks on her wrists of ropes the inmobilized her while she was... Just like Merlin's chains. "He must have struggled a lot because the marks of the chains are actually worse than the torture itself" Gaius had said. Merlin's nightmares. Merlin limping when they found him in the wood. Merlin not wanting to ride on a horse.

Arthur's world crushes all over again. His Merlin, his best friend was raped. Arthur can see his knights came to the same conclusion, because of the devasted expression they have when he meets them in private.

Elyan: (still in denial) It can't be... not Merlin.

Leon: It does make sense though. If none other torture seemed to work...

Percival: And Merlin has always had... very delicate features for a man.

Gwaine: Those sick bastards!

Lancelot: (no quiet believing this theory yet because he knows Merlin has magic to defend himself, but he can't share that so he just stays silent) ...

Arthur: (with deadly and serious expression) As soon as we find them, we'll make them pay. For now I want you to keep taking turns in watching over Merlin.

All knights: Yes, sire!

By month 3, Merlin talks almost as frequently as he did before, maybe with less jokes and smiles, but he's getting there. Arthur is glad some of their usual banter is back.

Merlin: (asks, shyly) Arthur? Could you... it's just I want to try something, but... you don't have to if-

Arthur: (throwing whatever he's doing inmediatly) Of course, anything. Just ask.

Merlin: (blushes a little) Could you... give me your hand?

Arthur: (his heart stops with emotion for a moment, but composes himself) Sure (he extends his hand)

Merlin: (slowly but surely joins their palms and smiles. After a moment, he says relieved to himself) Nothing happened.

Arthur: (joyful at feeling Merlin's touch again, but his heart breaking at Merlin's words) Of course nothing happened. I would never hurt you, Merlin.

Merlin: (smiles a little) I know. (Lets go of Arthur’s hand)

Arthur: (missing his touch already) If you need to... you can ask me to help you again, you know? With the whole touching thing.

Merlin: (surprised) Really?

Arthur: (nods) Whenever you want.

Merlin: (smiles a little) Thank you.

And Arthur finds himself craving those moments too. He always waits for Merlin to initiate the touch. Arthur doesn't risk doing it, fearing he could scare Merlin. So he waits. First Merlin just asks to join their hands from time to time. Then, one blessful day, Merlin tell him is okay to touch his arm or his shoulder like Arthur used to do. Arthur does it gently though, enjoying and appreciating it as he never did before. Arthur feels sense of achievement when Merlin stops tensing at his touch completly, at easy with him again.

Gwaine: (while training, sighs) I miss Merlin's hugs.

Lancelot: (sad) Me too. He's making a great progress with touch though. And he smiles more.

Percival: Remember when he asked me if I could carry him in my back?

Elyan: And you said "I could carry you with a single finger!" And then you picked him up (All the knights except for Arthur, laugh)

Arthur: (suddenly very sternly) stop chatting and get back to training.

Gwaine: Relax, princess. We were just talking about all the times Merlin-

Arthur: (raises his voice, mad) I said get back to training!

Leon: (worried) Are you alright, sire?

Arthur: (harshly) I'm fine.

Gwaine: (realising) Wait... you've never hugged Merlin before?

Arthur: ...

Gwaine: (laughing) Oh, gods! That's what it is. You're jealous!

Lancelot: (warns) Gwaine.

Gwaine: What? Is not my fault mister I'm-too-great-to-show-affection didn't get to hug Merlin before.

Leon: (seeing Arthur's increasinly furious face, warns too) Gwaine, stop.

Gwaine: And he doesn't get to be mad at us just because he'll never get to hug him now.

Arthur: (shouts and launches himself at Gwaine and they start fighting)

The rest of the knights: (try to stop them but is useless).

Arthur: (about to throw the finale punch)

Merlin: (enters the training ground and aproaches, confused) Arthur? Gwaine? What's happening?

Arthur: (gets distracted at Merlin's appearance)

Gwaine: (takes advantage and makes Arthur trip)

Arthur: (Ends with his face in a puddle of mud)

Gwaine:... 😨

Elyan:... 😧

Lancelot:...😓

Percival: ...😰

Leon: ...🤦‍♂️

Merlin: (burst out laughing) OMG! Your face! I can't! 🤣😂

All the knights, specially Arthur: (stunned but mostly mesmerised cause Merlin hasn’t laugh, properly laugh since they found him in the woods and they have missed his beautiful laugh so damn much)

Merlin: (wipes his tears of hapiness) Sorry. I'm done now.

Arthur: (Thinking, almost in panic) No, you aren't! (Turns to Gwaine and orders) Gwaine, give me your face.

Gwaine: What-

Arthur: (smashes mud in his face)

Merlin: (starts laughing again, but not as hard as before)

Lancelot: (understanding what Arthur is doing, thinks) Is not enough. (Makes a ball of mud and throws it at Elyan's face)

Elyan: Hey! 😠

Lancelot: (pointing at Merlin) Look!

Merlin: (is laughing harder)

Percival: (shouts) Mud fight! (And everyone starts throwing mud at each other)

Merlin: (still laughing) What are you doing, you idiots! Now I'll have to wash all your armors!

Arthur: Don't be dull, Merlin! Join us!

Merlin: (giggles) You're worst than children, I swear. (shakes his head but joins the fight)

Arthur's finally got his Merlin back and he'll never lose him again.

[ethansespresso]

possessive

johnny knoxville x gn!fem!reader

words: 2333

tags: smut!!!, possessive johnny, jealous johnny, minor degrading, bam is a whore, uhhh aftercare

summery: you’re pretty, johnny’s agitated that everyone’s looking at you.

maybe it's the daisy dukes, maybe it's the bikini top, or maybe it's the way the strings of your swimsuit bottoms fit your hips, but whatever it is, something has johnny red and jittery in his beach chair across the lawn.

his leg is shaking at a rapid pace, his fingers drumming on the arm with his jaw clenched and eyes darkened.

you glance at him, confused and questioning, but he gives no clues as to what's wrong.

you frown, it's almost scary seeing him like this, unknowing of if he might explode, and if so, who will it be directed at? bam? steve? you? you shudder. you know it's just the ptsd, he wouldn't, johnny would never raise his voice with you. even before he knew your past he was gentle with you. still, you can't help but be uneasy around him, and his unrelenting stare. it felt as though he might pounce on you. you wonder if he takes notice of you slipping into the kitchen, away from the heat and noise and his eyes that were seemingly undressing you. you're putting cups in the sink, rinsing out the stickiness from the spiked lemonade; you're on vacation with the crew, and the bonfire still going strong even after the long hours had gone by, though it seems that everyone is still going strong, too. your ice machine begins whirring as the spheres clank into your cup, but you still hear the creak of the back door opening.

you whip around, only to see bam, sopping wet with his swim trunks dipping dangerously low.

"hey," your eyes avert away from his waist, and there's johnny right behind him with the same death glare as he'd been giving you before. "do you have more beer? ryan and i wanna do beer pong together." he grins.

"what's the loser do? kiss the winner?" you snicker, trying to keep your eyes away from johnny watching you with an intense stare. you pour more lemonade into your cup, sipping as the burn runs down into you. shuddering again, you point at the cooler. "there, have at."

he nods thankfully, grabbing a couple of cases and scurrying out.

and then it's just you, and johnny, and your tipsy thoughts. you can't seem to croak anything out, his jaw clenches harder and fear overwhelms you, you can't think properly anymore. the alcohol is taking over your brain inch by inch, and somehow through your fear, you can see the hint of lust in his eyes.

you're pretty sure that glint is being returned.

he's towering over you, and you're positive it's because you glanced at the way bam's trunks went too far down. how his v-line protruded, but it was nothing like the man standing in front of you.

you didn't want him, you remind yourself before the guilt can set in. you were just afraid they'd drop right down on your kitchen floor leaving a soggy mess.

you want johnny. his trunks aren't sagging, but his v-line is much more visible, along with the slight six-pack. the golden skin, the soft happy trail, all sitting right before you, tempting your deepest, darkest desires. your mouth is watering as you get sucked deeper into your focus on him.

"sweetheart," and his voice is soft and gravelly, a sign he'd been drinking too.

you're broken out of your trance as he drawls, "doll, look at me," his fingers touch your chin to lift your gaze up to his. "they've been drooling over you all goddamn day," it's almost a growl when he speaks yet his hand cups your face ever so gently, you can't help but melt into his touch. he licks his lips, "it makes me sick how they stare at you, can't stand the thought of anyone touching you, you know? bam coming in here, his trunks like that, he knew what he was doing. you're so goddamn edible." he gives a little scowl that you can't help but want to kiss away. and as if he reads your mind, he dips down to kiss your lips, "all mine, my pretty little whore."

you nod, your shoulders relax, and seeing his eyes still dark you understand. there's a burning inside you, and you're not quite sure if it's the alcohol, how johnny's hands are touching you, or maybe a bit of both.

you belong to him, it sinks in and it makes heat bubble in your stomach, he's scooping you close and bringing you out, his hand in your back pocket with a firm grip on your ass.

wolf whistles call out from friends, mostly in a joking manner, but it still makes johnny huff in a sharp breath, glaring once again.

"you're so fucking sexy, look at all these vultures staring you down," he mutters to you, and you can't help but shiver at his words when a tingle shoots down to your core. you blush, feeling all eyes on you. it makes you feel insecure, and you need a way for everyone's eyes to get off you, but then johnny sits, pulls you into his lap, and starts kissing under your ear. "mine, all mine." he purrs, a big hand on your thigh, the other on top of your hand with your fingers interlaced with his.

his cock begins to harden beneath you, and your breath catches in your throat. you need him, your thoughts are racing with all the things you want him to do to you. you hope he catches the hint to have a bit more privacy and you purposefully scoot across his cock while getting down. "i'm going into the water, you can come." you offer with a soft smile as you step down the beach into the cool ocean of your rented vacation home. it's an off-white with a wrap-around deck; there's a patio where the cup-pong is getting set up, a pavilion with snacks and drinks, and then there's you and johnny crossing across the soft sand into the warm water. his hands are wrapped around your waist and you rest your head against his chest.

"the sunset is pretty." you relax against him as he nods, bringing you closer to him. your eyes focus on the blurring colors in the sky, relaxing into his tense body. you turn around to face him, your cheeks are pink from the alcohol and the burning sun. his eyes sparkle with a mischievous glint, and you find your mouth parted ever so slightly, staring in awe.

"kiss me," you can barely whisper out, you're so entranced by him you can't think. "please." and his lips are touching yours without the chance for a second thought, you're pressed tightly together in the cool water under darkening skies. everything is muffled around you, the yelling and the catcalls, all gone from both of your minds. it's all focused on each other, the way your mouths are together, the way he tastes and smells and feels. god the way his cock pressed against your stomach, the heat radiating from his body, the way he wouldn't pull away for a single gasp of air, it was bound to make you dizzy. his hand grabbed at your ass, his mouth is leaving yours, and it's trailing down your neck. "johnny," you give out a hushed whine when you feel his cock rut against your thigh. "yes, sweetheart?" you melt at his tone, possessive, owning, and desperate. yet you can't get out what you need, it's only a pathetic plea you hope johnny will understand. "mm," he hums in a satisfied way, his hand moving to the inside of your thigh. "i want you too, honey. let's go back inside, hm?"

you nod eagerly, your body aching for him. your body is burning from the inside out with a desperate desire for the man with his icy hands groping at you. your head spins as your lips connect once more, and you gasp suddenly when his teeth sink into your lip. he presses himself against you even harder, and your body quivers beneath him. the water is getting colder by the second with the moon creeping into the sky, but it doesn't quite register with you and your feverish arousal that the temperature is dropping rapidly. it doesn't feel quick enough, but you're practically running to keep up with his long strides back to the house. you brush against bam, his eyes wide as he looks at you, and then at johnny's stern expression, and he yells something unintelligible to johnny about getting laid. everyone is staring, you can tell that now, and something in your stomach churns into more excitement as you can tell they know exactly where you're going. "i’m gonna be doing the laying, actually." he quips with a sly smirk and a wink to you.

the door of your bedroom is slammed behind you, and then before you can breathe you're pressed against the door with johnny's knee between your legs.

"fuck," you gasp out, grinding down onto him. "need you."

he lets out a quiet growl, feeling your warmth on his thigh, "need you too, princess. c'mon." he lifts you up onto his hipbone, and easily placing you onto the bed like paper he begins to tug at your jean shorts. you're so helpless underneath him; his tall, strong being looming over you. he's staring at you like you're his prey, and he's finally got you in his captivity, even tho he knows he had you all along. he brings his head down to bite your lip again, kissing you in such a romantic way made everything he was doing feel even dirtier. his lips make their way down your neck and down to your abdomen, claiming you as his with love bites wherever his teeth could sink. you whimper under him when his hot breath ghosts over your cold thigh. he places soft kisses along the inside of your thighs up to your bikini bottoms, his other hand gripping onto your hip to keep you still. he kisses up to your clit, making you shudder. he grins mischievously, his thumb caressing your pelvic bone while he kisses up the waistline. sliding them down, he places even more sloppy kisses before flicking along your clit with his tongue.

you let out a quiet whimper as his warmth continues to envelop your most sensitive areas. before you can even begin to catch your breath, his finger is sinking into you, pressing into you harshly. "oh, fuck. oh, god," your voice is raising and you quickly cover your mouth to muffle your desperate moans.

"no, no, honey," and he's grabbing your wrists and pining them above the bed. "let them hear you, i need them to hear you." he demands, and instantly you let out a small whimper as if on command. his fingers quicken at your noise, and his lips are against your ear sending shudders through your body like his breath was electric. "who makes you feel good, doll?"

"you." you're gasping out, eyes rolling back as he presses into your g-spot.

"who, baby? who's touching you, hm? tell them who's making you feel good." he continues, and you can feel your orgasm creeping up.

"johnny-johnny, you do, fuck you make me feel good. please, i'm so close." you cry, getting just to your climax when he pulls out his fingers. "fuck, please, please, please." you're begging with watery eyes and flushed cheeks, and he's pulling down his swim trunks, letting his cock out to press against his stomach leaving a drip of precum.

"are you ready?" he asks softly, his dark eyes sparkling when they meet yours. you nod to him, whispering out a yes as he presses himself into you. every time with him always feels just as special as your first. the way he holds you, the way he encourages and compliments you, the way he stares as if you're a precious jewel. it makes you feel warm and tingly, it makes you teeter closer to reaching your abandoned climax from not so long ago. his thrusts stay rhythmic, rocking his hips against yours at a steady pace. your body rocks with his, his moans sending sparks flying through you.

"please, please i'm so close," you beg for him once more, and his thumb goes down to flick your clit. now you're squeezing around him, all of the feeling overwhelming your senses as he's urging you, "cum, cum for me, baby. let them hear how good you feel. that's it, there you go." and with a sharp cry of his name, you reach a breathless climax. you feel cum dripping out of you, and a hand caressing your stomach. "hi, sweetheart. there you go, good job." he praises, encouraging you to come back down to him. "you did so good, make me feel so good, sweetheart." he continues, and you can feel him cleaning you up, a soft, warm towel wiping at your aching thighs.

"thank you," you whisper, a smile creeping onto the corners of your mouth. he leans in to kiss you softly, his body towering over you and his hands holding your face.

he smiles against your lips, "how 'bout a bath? or shower, hm?"

you can only nod, your throat aching in an unforgiving way. johnny leaves you to turn on the water, leaving the door open only a crack.

your head lays flat against the pillow, and you listen to the muffled voices outside.

“shit, knoxville.”

“yea, precious little thing,” the distinct drawl of your boyfriend, continuing to praise you.

the door creeks open, and johnny’s there coming to scoop you up and into the shower. “come on, princess.”

you peck his lips, laying bridal style in his arms. “i love you,” it’s hushed and soft, even though you wish the world could hear you.

“i love you.”

[satrs]

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘩é! // PART 2 Part 1

ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ; 𝚌𝚕𝚒𝚌𝚑é 𝚙𝚘𝚛𝚗 𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚜 𝚠𝚒𝚝𝚑 𝚝𝚑𝚎m!

ꜰᴇᴀᴛᴜʀɪɴɢ; Nagi Seishiro. Bachira Meguru. Chigiri Hyoma.

Tags; !NSFW CONTENT! cringey porn tropes. Dirty talk. STEPCEST. unprotected sex. porn without plot. pussyjob. handjob. creampie. nicknames (Nii-chan, sis, sweet girl).

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ; 0.7k

  ᴀʟʟ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀꜱ ᴀʀᴇ 18+!

NAGI SEISHIRO

Nagi's mind was clouded in lust, laying on his bed with his cock heavy in hand, still having the view of you in the shower, water gliding down along your naked body, down the crack of your ass.

You didn't notice him spying- it was out of pure accident, really! You were just too silly to lock the door, your clueless step brother walking right into the devil's nest.

He moved his hand tightly along his length, softly moaning out your name over and over again, imagining it was your tight pussy around him, milking him dry of every last bit of his-

"What are you doing, Nii-san?"

He was in a daze, lust taking over his concious mind, letting his thoughts be spoken out loud, "Can you help me, sis?"

"Nii-sannn! Your're so deep! It's too much, too much!", you mewled over and over again, your nii-san pistoning his hips into you at a hard pase, chasing his release.

With one more thurst, you came, milking him with your tight cunt, causing him to follow you right after.

After pulling out and looking at the mess between your legs, cum leaking out of your now sensitive hole, his dick twitched back to life.

You noticed it, pulling him in for a deep and lustful kiss, emplying that you still weren't done with him- wanting more.

"I didn't know you were so naughty, nii-san."

BACHIRA MEGURU

As he and Isagi played in his room, he couldn't stop thinking about you, those flimsy shorts of yours, and that top, doing a terrible job at covering up your breasts.

His pants felt like they were going to explode, cock aching to be inside of your tight, wet heat.

He excused himself, telling his friend he would go to the bathroom, but sneakily walking to were your room was located instead.

Small creak to look into your room, you layed on your belly, ass up, he overheared you on the phone talking to someone who seemed to be your friend.

"I'm telling you! He is here right now in my brothers room! Urgh, I wish he would just dick me down right now..."

He thought he didn't hear you correctly, mind almost breaking into two out of joy. Bachira was quick to step into your room, closing the door behind him.

You jumped in surprise as felt the impact of his hand on your ass, turning your head to see him standing right next to you.

You couldn't utter a word, to stunned to see your crush right next to you. "I'll dick you down as you wish, sweet girl."

You mewled into your pillow as you felt the tip of his cock nudge against your aching clit over and over again, clenching your thighs together.

"Shhh, baby. Gotta' do this quick and quiet, alright?"

CHIGIRI HYOMA

He really needed a good massage after his game, legs aching in pain.

When he stepped into the treatment room, making himself comfortable by laying on his back on the massage table.

When he saw you step into the room, he had to quickly retreat his hand over his growing bulge, afraid you might see.

But you were of course no idot. Since he was completely bare before you, only a towel wrapped loosely around his hip to hide his clearly visible erected length, you decided to help him calm down, ease the tension all over his body.

He is your patient afterall.

You covered your hand in the massage oil, hand firmly kneading his leg, causing the young man to sigh in relief. As you felt him relax more and more into your touch, you also moved your hand closer and closer to the edge of his towel.

You swiftly pulled it away, causing the man to yelp in surprise, quick to cover up his throbbing length from your eyes, only to be stopped by your hand.

"I'll deal with it, sir." you calmed him down, hand reaching for his cock, aching for your touch,

He was quick to comply, his pleased sighs soon turning into louder groans, followed by moans and whimpers, as you moved your hand over his cock with such skill, thumb brushing over the slit attached to his tip, causing him to let out a loud mewl.

"Just relax."

ᵃˡˡ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉⁿᵗ ᵇᵉˡᵒⁿᵍˢ ᵗᵒ k-azus.°

[polaroidpascal]

morning brew || joel & frankie

AO3 || MASTERLIST

pairing : frankie morales x f!reader x joel miller

summary : when you and Frankie wake up, you find that joel is missing from bed.

tags : fluff but allusions to smut, no use of y/n, frankie being sweet, joel being a goofy menace, all love and silly jokes with these three, fic cover is for vibes only, reader is you babe!!

WC : 619

a/n : this might be the stupidest little thing i've ever spat out, and i wrote it in all of like 15 minutes, maybe, simply bc i saw one of those "passed out a couple times but your dessert is ready!" memes. also bc i haven't been able to stop thinking about frankie or being in a throuple with him and joel 🫠 so enjoy this stupid nonsense ig 💀

Joel’s not in bed when you wake up.

Frankie has his arms wrapped around you, the two men having sandwiched you in the bed late last night as the three of you drifted to sleep. His hot breath fans across your skin, slow and sleepy as he dreams.

You turn in his hold to face him and he tries to nuzzle his face into your neck. You pepper kisses onto his forehead, his cheek, and wake him up with a kiss.

“Good morning, hermosa,” he says, voice hoarse with slumber as it rumbles through your ribcage.

“Good morning,” you say, planting another deep, slow kiss to his plush lips. His hands roam sweetly and gently against your soft, warm skin. And you let him, the sweet boy, caress every inch of your body he can find just because he loves you so much.

You pull away from the kiss and he meets you with a small protesting whine. “Joel’s not here…”

“Hm?” he mutters, eyes barely open. “Where’d he go?”

“I don’t know, I think we should go find him,” you say with a smile, a small one. One he meets as his eyes fully open and he throws the covers off of you.

The smell of coffee meets you before the image of him does. You walk down the hallway with Frankie trailing close behind you, his hand locked in yours. You round the corner and see Joel standing at his coffee pot donning nothing but a robe and his slippers, three mugs sitting on the counter before him.

He hears the floor shift beneath you and looks up, a smile blossoming on his face. “G’mornin’, sleepyheads. Made y’all some coffee.”

You and Frankie sit at the island together and cradle the mugs in your hands. You both sip and hum at the bitter bite of the coffee and the sweetness that lingers after.

“Mmm… so good, Joel. Thank you,” Frankie says with a sparkle in his eye and Joel winks at him. He smirks at that, then asks, “This tastes different... but good different. Did you use a different milk or something? Like, a new creamer?”

“Sure did,” he says with a nod. “Passed out, like, six times though.”

You both choke mid-sip and Joel stifles back a laugh.

“Y— you what?” you ask, nearly setting the mug down.

“Yeah, got up early ‘n everything to make it perfect for my two angels.” A positively shit-eating grin explodes across his face as he takes another slow, audible sip of his coffee.

You and Frankie turn to each other wide-eyed, then back to Joel before he erupts with laughter.

“Darlin’, relax. I’m just teasin’,” Joel manages between giggles. “Yes, I bought a new creamer.” He holds a hand over his stomach while he laughs some more.

The two of you let go of the breath you didn't realize you were holding, shoulders slumping and looking down into the cups in your hands. Frankie starts to chuckle first, looking at Joel and shaking his head before laughing harder.

It’s not long before the three of you are in a laughing fit in the kitchen, coffee abandoned as laughter and giggles fill the kitchen.

“Well, today is off to an interesting start,” you say, catching your breath.

“That’s one way to put it,” Frankie chimes in before nudging your arm.

“Yeah, sure is,” Joel agrees, pressing a hand to his stomach while he exhales deep. “Man, almighty. ‘M not gonna have enough energy left.”

You breathe a laugh out of your nose. “Yeah? Energy for what?”

He looks up again, unable to hide his goofy smile like he did before. “For the dessert I was gonna fix for y’all later.”

[animeyanderelover]

I didn’t know if you meant Ayato from Tokyo Ghoul or Ayato from Diabolik Lovers and since I was in the mood, I just ended up doing both.

Tags: @naeho @flaming-vulpix @shumidehiro @leveyani @izanami78 @kanaosprotector

Tw: Yandere themes, toxic relationship, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, stalking, clinginess, overprotective behavior, sadism, abuse, manipulation, isolation, abduction, death

Kidnapped and nearly killed

Ayato Sakamaki

🥇He would never admit this as his own fault yet the truth is that abducting Ayato's darling isn't that difficult. He doesn't look out much for their protection and focuses more on the possessive aspect that he wants them to know that they only belong to him. So he doesn't worry much when he just randomly leaves you from time to time and just threatens you to stay here and wait for him. Maybe Ayato has never considered that something quite as terrible might happen, everything so far has just been sadistic fun for him and the thought of abduction initially doesn't cross his mind when he returns his room but can't find you. Instead he instantly assumes that you stupid thing have left him as he starts angrily searching for you in the entire mansion, slamming doors and yelling at the brothers who are unfortunate enough to walk past him. The first anger slowly ebbs away though as panic seeps through when he can't find you on the entire property. Where the fuck are you?! This isn't funny anymore!!

🥇​He reaches the limit of his own capabilities for now but is too proud to ask any of his brothers for help. So instead he starts shouting at them as he blames them for not stopping you as he searches for the fault in everyone else but himself. It's then that Laito reveals to him that he saw you the last time in the garden before you were suddenly assaulted and taken away by some men. Ayato nearly pounces on him to strangle him, hot fury causing him to almost explode as he shouts at his brother why he didn't do anything to help you before Laito flees to avoid Ayato's short temper. He just vents out his wrath for a while as he throws every vase he can find against walls or destroys some furniture before he calms down somewhat. Then he feels the dread crawling up his spine. You were taken away by someone...He'll bash their heads for that. He'll kill those bastards for taking something that belongs to him away from him.

🥇​He lacks the sensitivity when it comes to properly conducting some research and proper investigation. He couldn't care less for this shit anyways as he has no time to waste. Ayato just storms away from the mansion with no clear plan besides rescuing you and his only weapon he takes with him being a knife. He relies on his enhanced senses to track you down as good as he can as well as basically threatening every person he sees to tell him if they know everything about you. The longer it takes him to find you, the worse his temper becomes as he is really that close to losing it and just assaulting and hurting everyone he sees. It's all their fault!! His anger is unable to contain itself properly anymore at one point and he starts destroying and hurting everyone in proximity. Yet it is through violence that he actually catches someone who knows about your whereabouts as they are involved with everything. They get little to no chance to beg for mercy before Ayato slams their head furiously into the ground over and over again until blood stains the ground until he leaves th person the cusp of death. He'll murder them all!!

🥇​Ayato honestly doesn't think that he could possibly feel any more lust to murder until he kicks in the door to their hideout and startles everyone inside. Green eyes fly to you as soon as he smells your enticing blood and widen when he sees the beaten state you're in. Then he just snaps. He doesn't care that you see everything as his mind is hazy with blood lust and deathly sadism to see the life fade from your captor's face. He screams at them to just die as he goes completely violent. He hits, he kicks, he stabs and he breaks bones and doesn't even care that his mindless and violent ways to attack might leave him vulnerable for counter attacks. He isn't even fully aware of what happens but he only knows that every cry he hears and every wound he inflicts fills him with deep satisfaction. When he fully returns, he is covered from head to toe with blood as your terrified sobs fill the room. He has some minor wounds too as he only focused on killing and less on defending himself but that doesn't matter as the person who kidnapped you lays in a puddle of their own blood, already dead.

🥇​He snaps at you as he unties you and insults you for being so stupid and leaving his room without him but there are some tears in his eyes as he yells those words at you. He tries to stop the bleeding from your multiple wounds but only ends up hurting you accidentally. He's actually afraid as he sees that the blood loss has weakened you. So he lifts you up and hurries with you over to the Sakamaki mansion, snarling at you to stay awake and even slapping you to keep you conscious. He's threatening and growling at Reiji for help as much as it hurts his pride because he knows that he doesn't possess the necessary knowledge to tend to your injuries. His older brother caves in and caters to your wounded form as Ayato is unbearably loud and annoying right now. He only guarantees your survival though before he dismisses Ayato and you out of his room. Ayato, too proud to thank him, leaves silently and that's the most gratitude Reiji can expect.

🥇​He's scolding and yelling at you even days after the incident as you rest in his bed and recover from the injuries. The vampire tries to look out for you but his treatment is quite rough as he squeezes onto your injuries when he tries to assist you whilst moving or shoves a fork or spoon full of food past your lips to feed you even when you insist that you can do it by yourself. He treats you as if you are completely incompetent and that is honestly the way he is thinking about you as of now. After all you can't even leave the fucking room without him without getting yourself into some sort of trouble. So now you aren't allowed to go anywhere anymore without him monitoring you. This experience has taught Ayato that not everything is always all fun and easy though and he starts taking your protection more seriously as he realises that there are people after you too. His way of protecting is more overbearing though as you're always locked inside your room whenever he has to leave and he may just tie you up to ensure that you don't move.

Ayato Kirishima

🌌​Ayato is also quite rough when it comes to treating his darling, especially the first few weeks after abduction where everything is bumpy and terribly new and frightening. You aren't the only one who has get used to now living with a ghoul after all, Ayato has to adapt to a life with you, a human, now too which means that he is faced with burdens and worries he didn't have before. Despite his harsh exterior, Ayato is protective though and that from the vey start. He has grown up with harsh and unforgiving circumstances so he knows that the world tends to be cruel. He's very protective after all although he'd rather bite off his own tongue than to just admit that to you. He doesn't want to be too obvious with his own weak spot for you. He always reminds you to never leave the apartment when he leaves you because otherwise there will be consequences. Yet you're still gone when he one day returns with stuff he got for you. Shortly he wonders if you are just incredibly stupid before he notices the clear signs of a fight.

🌌​He feels the anger already dwelling up but forces himself to stay calm. He can't allow himself to lash out. Not yet at least. He quickly walks through the entire apartment as he collects all hints he can see, from the slashed and destroyed furniture to the few patches of blood on the ground. He'd notice that aroma anywhere. It's your blood. The damage inflicted on the furniture and his apartment doesn't look like it could have been inflicted by ordinary weapons and he soon just arrives at the conclusion that this is the result of a kagune. You were taken away by a ghoul! Shit, this couldn't have ended up worse! Chances for a ghoul to just randomly break into a house are rare as most lure outside in the dark backstreets so the thought that this ghould specifically came for you due to knowing about Ayato's presence in your life is very likely. He has made a couple of enemies over the years so it is logical that they would target you instead of him since you are a mere human.

🌌​Ayato is doing it all by himself because he has always been all on his own. He doesn't trust anyone else with you nor does he want to admit to anyone else that he is so incredibly attached to a human. So he won't even request help from his own sister and much less from Aogiri Tree if he should still be an executive for them. Instead he goes out all on his own with the little bit of knowledge he was able to collect from his apartment. He starts seeking all other ghouls he can find in Tokyo as he attacks and threatens them to tell him if they have seen anything suspicious whilst keeping his guard up. If they really came for you to get to him, he is almost expecting that they'll try to get in contact with him to try to make a deal with him or use him for something by trying to keep him under control with you. He isn't wrong as night eventually falls and he is approached by two of them who ask him to come with them because they have what he is searching for. Hold it in. He has to hold it in for a bit longer.

🌌​He attacks both of them out of the blue as soon as he sees the place you're held in without giving them much of a chance to defend themselves, leaving them heavily wounded outside as he raids the place. There's one more waiting inside as they have been watching over you and all Ayato can do in a short moment is kick the chair your tied to away to get you away from them as a fight ensues. His focus is split though as he is fully aware that you're still there as he tries to create as much distance between you and the fight as he can so you don't get up hurt. Unfortunately the other ghoul knows that as he tries to use it to his advantage whilst Ayato tries to get them away from you. Until a short second is all it takes for them to stab you with their kagune, the blood flodding out of your wound. His heart threatens to break out of his chest as his eyes zoom in on your form and the blood suddenly surrounding you, his own inner chaos threatening to deafen him. Until suddenly there is silence. Within only a few minutes later, he is panting as he stands over their half-dead body, clear signs of a destructive fight all around him.

🌌​He feels sick when he rushes to you, his hands instantly sticky with cold blood as he touches you. Your eyes are already closed and your breath and heartbeat are shallow. He shakes you, he slaps you, he yells at you to wake up yet nothing hurts as blood still leaks out of your wound. He feels like someone is stepping on his chest as every breath he takes feels straining and painful as he realises that you might bleed out if he doesn't do anything. He knows that he needs help because he isn't as stubborn as to pretend that he has what it takes to safe you. So he lifts you up in his arms before he rushes away with you. There's really only one person he can think of right now as he doesn't have a lot of allies. Touka is shocked when he suddenly appears in front of Anteiku with you in his arms as she is the only one he could think of for help. He's trembling a bit, his tone demanding yet also cracking with vulerability as he yells at her and the other ghouls here to help you.

🌌​Everyone in Anteiku does their best to help you as much as possible whilst Ayato is watching with burning eyes. He won't let anyone else hurt you! Then he stays in your room for the entire time up until you slowly regain consciousness. He is instantly leaning over you as soon as he sees your eyes fluttering open as the first question he asks you is if you're feeling okay. His worry for you reigns supreme for this first moment as you wake up and as soon as he realises that you're out of any life-threatening danger, he can't help but lash out on you. He knows that you couldn't have stand a chance against three ghouls but it is this weakness of yours he verbally attacks and insults. You really can't do anything without him, can you?! Why are you so pathetically weak?! He takes you back as soon as he can because he doesn't want you to spend too long in Anteiku, although he will have to search for a new place up until then because he can't return to the previous place he hid you in. After he has found a new place, don't expect him to leave you out of sight anymore. He realized it alright. You really can't survive without him by your side.

Fyodor Dostoevsky

🍎​Do you know him yet? No, probably not but his involvement has already infiltrated your life deeply like an incurable tumor that is bound to bring you nothing but pain and suffering. Everything just falls apart for you as you lose your job, your house, your car and even the connection to the people you thought cared about you. What you think is just the world giving letting you know that it hates you is in reality caused by the obsession of one man who has to make you suffer for loving you. You are mostly being watched though by Fyodor who has set up cameras and is able to gain access to cameras within public too. He sees everything. Yet the one time he tends to some important business and stops observing you closely like a hawk, you happen to get kidnapped and at this rate you're too tired and exhausted to properly defend yourself anymore. You disappeared from all footage when he tunes in again which instantly arouses his suspicion.

🍎​It is quite easy for Fyodor to find out everything he needs to know though. He sits down and goes through every footage in the area from where you were last seen. His dedication doesn't come without reward as he soon spots you in the records as you are accompanied by a few faces he doesn't recognize. He watches closely every movement they do and as the fear in your face is quite obvious even if only through the screen, he can guess that you were taken by force. So all he has to do now is gather information on those who dared to take you from him and to discover their hideout. He searches for information himself as well as asking some of his pawns to go out and see what they can find on information all by themselves. he gathers everything he needs to know within a short amount of time, he is well linked after all. A smaller group of criminals, utterly disposable as well as doomed for accidentally touching what he wants for himself.

🍎​He doesn't have to even go out himself. He has enough people he can send as he can guess that those people will definitely try to resist with the weapons they have. Fyodor takes his time to come up with a plan because if it should escalate into a violent conflict, he wants you to be out of the picture. You need to suffer but to die isn't your fate. He gathers some people who listen to him as he explains to them what he wants them to do and he mentions at the end casually yet also quite seriously that he will punish them if they end up getting you into any danger. He's the only one under whom you will suffer and suffocate. He already plans to just keep you with him permanently after you've been rescued. This is a little bit earlier than he initially anticipated but it can't be helped. That just means that he can keep you and break you sooner, although he thinks about being generous enough to give you some time to recover. He can't have you focusing on anyone else whilst in his presence.

🍎​He waits as the operation begins but he certainly is still making sure that he is always being updated with the current situation. He wants the leader of this small gang to be brought to him alive though because he wants to have a small chat with them. Fyodor doesn't intend to let them leave alive, he just wants to make them suffer by making them realise how much they messed up by choosing you as their next victim. That's how he finds out pretty quickly though that you have been shot accidentally within the commotion as you tried to run away and that's when he changes his plans. He wants everyone except the one who shot you dead and gives clear instructions on catering to your wound instantly. His aura is menacing and terrifying even with the calm look on his face as the one who shot you is brought to him as he starts chatting a bit with them, purple eyes observing them with a sinister gleam in his eyes. This conversation turns more and more unnerving as he reveals secret after secret he knows of them until he ends it when his short amusement has stopped, ending them quickly.

🍎​He monitors your recovery closely the moment you arrive. You're barely conscious when you initially arrive as you have lost a lot of blood so he decides to wait until you're in a better condition. He visits you a few times in your unconscious state, his purple eyes resting on your sleeping form as he feels something tugging at the strings on his heart. You look so peaceful and vulnerable right now as you lay in bed, your body taking the time it needs to recover from all the stress and blood loss. He can't resist to caress your facial features a bit as he looks at you, a hint of a small smile on his face. How sweet and serene you look in this moment. You should enjoy this as long as it lasts. Once you're recovered, you won't be able to rest so easily anymore. His smile transforms into something more sinister as this thought enters his head. Just for now though...he feels like being soft with you.

🍎​Once you regain your consciousness, Fyodor finally introduces himself more properly to you. You are scared and confused and he does his best to answer all of your question as good as he can. He only leaves the one major reveal out of everything. His obsession as well as his plans with you. By all accounts, you initially think of him as your savior as you thank him profusely for his help and he can't help the smirk on his face as he silently accepts it. You're probably going to be utterly destroyed as soon as he reveals to you who he truly is but that will make everything only more amusing. So he never corrects you in your wrong assumption as he acts surprisingly nice and sweet as you recover from your wounds and start feeling better and better. When he finally pulls the rag out from under your feet as you are almost back to normal, the smile you have given him so far morphs into sheer fear as you find out all too suddenly what he really is. It's too late though.

Jouno Saigiku

♦️​Jouno is a complete bastard, that is at least what you think about him whenever he mysteriously pops up just where you are. Like seriously, is he stalking you or what? You did accuse him a couple of times already of this and all he gave you was this smug smile of his. He never denies your accusations but at the same time, he doesn't admit them either. Perhaps if you would know who he really is and what he is capable of, you wouldn't act so cocky and careless around him. Saigiku would like to savor the reveal for a bit longer though. The world has other plans in store for him though as he one day can't find you anywhere as he heads outside. So when he heads to your place instead to see if you're not feeling well, the silence takes him by surprise. He can't hear anything, not even your breath. It's then that he starts getting suspicious and everything seems confirmed when he feels that the door to your house is loosely hanging on the hinges as if someone forcefully broke it.

♦️​He immediately gets to work as he tells the people from the government very bluntly to help him with this. The normally composed exterior of his seems a tad bit more threatening which scares even those he usually takes demands from as they quickly agree to assist him. He doesn't elaborate further though when they ask him who you are and what exactly you mean to him as he continues to figure out who took you. To imagine that someone actually dared to kidnap you...Well, there is no use in losing his composure now. Finding you and saving you is the first priority for now. The other Hunting Dogs can feel that there is something that deeply bothers him but he rejects the help a few of them offer as this is about you and you are his responsibility. He should be able to detect and rescue you without any help from the other Hunting Dogs.

♦️​When the government informs him a few days later that they caught someone they suspect of being involved, he instantly takes matters into his own hand. A terrifying grin is on his face as he visits the suspect in a special room. He grabs a chair and sits down in front of them as he starts asking them questions about you, your whereabout and about the one who took you. After all they're an accomplice so it's better to start talking now or otherwise they might end up with even more troubles. The supposed confidence they initially show is quickly snuffed out and replaced by fear as Jouno can sense their every lie easily. After all whilst the mouth may lie the rest of their body certainly can't. Their quick heartbeat, the adrenaline that pumps through their blood and their fast breath are all things that expose them to Saigiku. They're trembling when Jouno stands up from his chair and lets out a small sigh. This is taking too long. Seems like he has to use other method to get them to talk.

♦️​He heads out by himself with only little backup from some of the people the government insists that he takes with him. Jouno has gotten all of the information out of the other person that he needed though and what happens to them now is none of his concern. The only thing on his mind as of now is saving you as he has arranged the rest already. He hears your heartbeat picking up when he walks so casually and fearless into the abdandoned building you're held in. A frown appears on his face though when he realises that your body doesn't sound good, it sounds weaker and your breath is more troubled and strained. They hurt you, didn't they? Now that's just unforgivable. A dark smile stretches his face as his closed eyes look at you before he gives you one friendly warning to close your eyes now. That's all the warning you get before he cleanes the world of the person that took you and thought that they could get away with it. There's no need for a pesky insect like them to exist after all. Criminals should just die.

♦️​He's surprisingly careful as he frees you, although he can tell from your heartbeat and your stuttering breath that you're scared of him. There's no time for this now though. You need medical care as fast as you can because whilst he might not be able to see your wounds, he can still tell that it would be dangerous to not tend to them soon. He lifts you whilst trying to ignore your anxiety that he can clearly pick up as he leaves the abandoned building with you. You're quickly brought into a special facility owned and overlooked by the government where doctors tend to your injuries and patch you up. Saigiku is informed that you're out of any severe danger now that you have finally received medical care and he is pleased when hearing this. He wouldn't want you to leave him so easily after all. Jouno visits you a lot whilst you are put under bed rest as his inner composure has been disturbed due to the abduction. He tries to remind himself that he solved everything though as he listens to the sounds of your body.

♦️​For a while he doesn't give you the answers to your questions. You know that something is going on now because you have seen him literally murder someone and you also notice all those important-looking people here who show him respect as well as a slight bit of fear. Who exactly is he? Jouno is no fool, he knows that he can't keep this a secret anymore from you. He doesn't desire to do so either as he has already made a deal with the government. After this incident he doesn't think that he can just let you leave like this again. He'd like to put you under special supervision because you are someone important to him. He decides to tell you when you're neither too strong to possibly react violently or try to escape nor too weak to possibly not process everything fully. The weak protests you give him are ignored and quickly shot down as he reminds you that without him, you would have died. You need someone to protect you and luckily for you, his job includes saving people like you. So don't try to throw a big tantrum for now. You need time to heal properly, alright? You're never getting away from him anyways so it's useless.

Suehiro Tetchou

🌸​Tetchou's type of obsession is one which focuses majorly on protecting the person he cherishes the most. Even before he is fully able to grasp the own length of his emotions, you often have this oddball escorting you wherever you go. Despite this protective tendencies and his tendency to easily as well as frequently worry about you, Tetchou isn't as restricting as long as he isn't triggered. You are capable to still have a slice of your life for yourself as long as nothing happens. So when you are one day taken hostage by a group of terrorists and Tetchou finds out about it, he can only deeply resent himself for not having done more to secure your safety. He's distraught and blames himself as his heart clenches as he thinks of what you might go through at the moment. If only he had done more...you wouldn't have to go through such a terrifying experience right now.

🌸​He's storming out to track the group of terrorists down all by himself although out of politeness he tells Fukuchi at least what he plans to do. The older man stops him though as he tells them that the shouldn't just head out without any orders and that he shouldn't make any rash decisions either. After all you aren't the only hostage that has been taken. Tetchou can only give the captain an incredulous stare before he is about to leave anyways. He doesn't care. He wants to save you. He needs to save you. Apparently the ongoing accident has caught the attention of the government anyways since they've been trying to catch at least a few members of the group for interrogation. The fact that a fraction of the group was forced to hide in a building and take hostages because the police has them surrounded seems like a good chance and with Fukuchi's help, they decide to deplore the Hunting Dogs to the scene. For now they need to wait though as casualities should be avoided and for that they need more intel.

🌸​Tetchou is extremely tense the entire time because having to wait until he can go is killing him. What if you're hurt? What if you're currently getting hurt? What if you're going to be killed? How are you feeling right now? There are so many worries that his head starts buzzing soon as he feels a dull painful throbbing as he drowns himself in his worries over you. His inner turmoil is giving even Saigiku an headache as he can sense the overwhelming amount of nervousness and worries he builds up inside of him as he asks Tetchou annoyed if he could please just stop. As if he could. He's rushing off by himself as soon as the order to head out is given to the Hunting Dogs. Teruko yells at him to wait for them because he can't just head out without the captain and them but at this point Tetchou is unable to properly listen anymore. He just wants you safe. Why is that so hard for everyone else to understand?

🌸​The atmosphere changes the moment the Hunting Dogs arrive as the tension partially dilutes with such strong and hailed allies arriving now. The police feels a great sense of relief as some of them can't help but cheer already since they will surely save everyone now whilst the few terrorists who have been cornered feel only horror when they recognize those uniforms. Before any of them can properly make a threat by using the hostages, things have already begun though. They're already so few in numbers and that makes everything even easier. All of them are quickly put out of commission although they aren't killed as they're going to be interrogated later so that their hideout can finally be found. Tetchou cares little for that though as he frantically walks through the crowd of hostages, his eyes trying to find you. The short relief he feels when he spots you turns to dread when he realizes the blood staining your abdomen. You've been shot, most likely before they even arrived.

🌸​You're barely conscious anymore due to the loss of blood as he quickly lifts you up and hurries outside. An ambulance! You need an ambulance! You are sane enough though as you recognize Tetchou and start muttering in a delirious way that you were shot whilst trying to stop one of the terrorists from beating another hostage up as a warning. His grip on you tightens as he tries to keep you conscious by talking to you and saying with a strained voice that you've always liked to play the hero. Why do you always have to do this? Tears are blurring his vision when the ambulance quickly drives you to the hospital and you finally lose consciousness. He isn't able to focus on anything else, his heart and mind by you as he stands next to the other Hunting Dogs, feeling numb and cold. He's eventually dismissed as it's obvious that he doesn't react anymore and so he rushes to the hospital and waits for the surgeons to save your life all whilst lamenting his own helplessness to protect you.

🌸​You wake up the next day and are surprised to find Tetchou already being with you. He instantly sits straight in the chair when he notices that you're awake and judging from the darker rings under his eyes, he probably didn't get even a minute of sleep last night. Your worries for him are dismissed as your condition is so much more important right now as he asks you in a quiet tone about how you're feeling. His grip on your hands is gentle as if he fears that he'll break you otherwise and the hug he gives you when you tell him that you are feeling rather well despite the circumstances is even more tender. He just soaks in the feeling of your warmth as he mutters that he's relieved to hear that and that he was so worried about you. He also apologizes for not having been able to properly protect you and you can tell that this seems to eat him alive, this guilt and frustration. You want to reassure him that it wasn't his fault before he interrupts you with a slightly conflicted but determined gaze. This time he'll make sure that something like this will never happen again! Y-you'll understand though, right? After all everything he does is only for your protection...

Daki

🌺​She's been keeping her eyes out for you for quite some time now. What exactly it is she seems to find so captivating on you is a mystery for her and honestly, she isn't fine with this sudden interest she has with you. She is beautiful, strong and ethereal after all. You are nothing in comparison to her. You are weak, pathetic and your looks are average at best. Yet why?! Why is she unable to get you out of her mind?! The amount of times she has contemplated to kill you off or seriously hurt you only to not be able to pull it off are numerous and her brother gets the worst of her temper tantrum. She's obsessed but despises you at the same time yet when you one day stop appearing, she feels seriously betrayed. How. Dare. You. She sends her obi slash out to find you and capture you because this is unacceptable yet later on she is informed that you aren't in your room. You're gone.

🌺​As soon as she receives those news, she completely lashes out. She doesn't care if she terrifies everyone in her house as they tremble, kneel and try to appease Warabihime whilst not even knowing why she is suddenly in such a terrible mood. Daki doesn't care though and she ends up hurting a couple of people before she withdraws to her own room. She feels the intense urge to destroy the entire interior of her room and murder anyone who annoys her which is in her current mood pretty much everyone. Her wrath isn't even spared from her own obi slash as she demands from her blood ability to find you. After she has calmed down from the worst of her mood, she starts crying as Gyutaro tries desperately to comfort her. Where are you? What happened? Did you leave her?! She won't allow it!! She has the worst mood swings ever as she is wailing like a bratty child in one moment and loses control of her anger the next moment.

🌺​Gyutaro volunteers more or less of his own free will to search for you too because his sister is dear to him and her current temper tantrums do get slowly on his nerves too. If Daki is happy if she has you with her and finally calms down, then he'll track you down for her. Daki believes him when he promises her that he'll find you and gives him a nod with tears in her eyes. So she waits for any reports from her obi slash or Gyutaro and it is Gyutaro who returns first to her as he believes that he has found you. Daki instantly complains that he should have just brought you to her then but Gyutaro tells her that she should look out for you herself since she is the one so obsessed with you. Daki could get angry with him for this but he just remainds her that she should retrieve you because it looks like someone took you. Quickly her anger focuses on whoever dared to take her treasure away from her as she storms out to kill whoever laid their hands on you and after that she'll take you with her.

🌺​She overhears them talking briefly about selling you to someone and those words already make her desire to slash them with her blood ability rise. You won't get sold to anybody. You belong solely to her. When she smells your blood though that makes her mouth water a bit and she finally sees you though, the house collapses in an instant as her obi sashes effortlessly destroy the small building. You're beaten and dirty, defiled of your original beauty as your face is swollen and you have injuries all over your body because you tried to defend yourself. Not like she cares. She only cares about the fact that someone besides her touched you and ruined your cute face. One of her obi sashes manages to pull you out of the building just in time though although the way it wraps around your body only adds to the pain of your injuries. Your pain subsides for a moment though as you are in a state of shock as you stare at the collapsed house before you notice Daki who looks infuriated to the point where you can see her veins popping out in sheer wrath.

🌺​They are most likely already dead but in a fit of hot and possessive rage she pulls their body out of the debris and you can only watch in sheer horror as she cuts and mutiliates the corpse over and over again. As you try to speak up and beg her to stop, one sharp look from her is enough to quickly make you shut up and you can only look away in fear as she vents out all of her anger until she has calmed down somewhat. You hear her breathing heavily in anger before she finally turns her attention to you. Cold hands grab your face harshly as she all but yells at you for being so dumb to let yourself get caught in the first place. You don't deserve this but Daki is too occupied with pushing her anger on everyone else by blaming them instead of herself. She seems to calm somewhat down when she notices your tears and your injuries and asks you instead how you're feeling. You can only stutter out that you'll probably be fine without mentioning that you probably would have been crushed by the building she so thoughtlessly destroyed if she wouldn't have pulled you out.

🌺​You transfer ultimately from one hell into another. Instead of being sold to someone, you are now stuck with an entitled demon you have to be very careful around unless you wish to earn her ire. Daki seems to realise that you need some recovery time after what you have been through but her incredibly explosive and short temper makes it hard for her at times to not be a bit rough around you if you end up annoying her. You can't expect much medical care because she refuses to let a doctor see you unless your life would depend on it and because you said that you'll make it, she deems one to be unnecessary. She does provide you with bandages and other medical stuff you might need though as she lets it all be delivered under the orders of her fake persona Warabihime. You'd rather not have her help you though because she struggles to be gentle and careful around you as she has never taken care of a human before. If she tells you that she wants to take care of her doll though, you know better than to refuse her.

[angels-heap]

we get it, you hate hlvrai. how about instead of being bitter you let people enjoy things. fr whats the point of gatekeeping a 20 year old game?

Look, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that you didn't live through the 2020 fandom bullshit, because if you'd witnessed it, even peripherally, you would not have felt compelled to send this ask. So, a few things you should know:

I don't actually hate hlvrai! I genuinely enjoyed the series and still quote it regularly. I even used to enjoy some of the fan content, before the fandom exploded in popularity and there was a huge influx of mostly of very young fans (fine, but not my scene) who wanted me and most of my friends to die (bad; see below).

I'm not dreading more hlvrai content; I'm dreading the potential fallout within the fandom. Canon tags flooded with unrelated content. Wildly OOC characterizations of canon characters based on similar characters in an unrelated series. Endless racism discourse that somehow manages to affect everyone except the tiny fraction of fans who are actually being intentionally racist. Pushback against mature content for an M-rated game because "there are kids here now!!" Ship discourse. Death threats and endless harassment related to the ship discourse. Being accused of being a child predator and threatened with doxxing for shipping two grown adults in a different fandom.

A lot of really lovely people were driven out of the canon HL fandom because of bullshit instigated by hlvrai fans who either didn't know anything about the canon series, didn't care, or were learning incorrect information through "fandom telephone" and decided to take it upon themselves to rid the internet of anyone who didn't ship canon Gordon with their benrey-fied version of Barney "the right way." Can you really blame anyone for not wanting that to happen again?

Honestly, as long as the new content doesn't include too much conflicting lore/characterization related to canon HL characters and the fandom manages to behave itself, I'm excited to see more people get into Half Life. A lot of my current favorite HL artists and writers got into HL through hlvrai. This doesn't have to be a shitshow, but I don't think it's unreasonable to worry that it might become one.

TL;DR: Nobody really wants to "gatekeep" a 20 year old game series. We just want to be able to continue talking about the series and creating fanworks without being bombarded with unrelated content, death and doxxing threats, and baseless accusations that could ruin our actual, offline lives.

[kalmiaphlox]

Crash Landing

AO3 Link / Masterlist

Astarion has never been a bat before. He's never wanted to be a bat before, but a little sneeze is all it took for him to be stuck as a disgusting rodent.

Wait- He can fly!

But maybe flying isn't all it's cracked up to be...

Main Tags: Batstarion, FLUFF!, Dadstarion, Established Relationship

Waking up next to Astarion is a new experience every time, and this morning is no exception. 

The moment she opens her eyes with a yawn, his head looms above hers, ruby eyes boring holes into her face as if she might dissolve into nothing if he looked away for even a moment.

“Any particular reason for being a weirdo this early?” Kalmia asks while placing a hand over his eyes, but he leans forward to nip at her fingers instead and once she pulls away, Astarion bares his teeth. “Ah, so no reason.”

“Do I need a reason when I'm with you, little wyrm?” He holds her wrist and presses a chaste kiss to her lips. “I just want to see every side of you, even when you snore louder than a dragon… Oh, wait…!”

She pinches his nose. “Awe, the vampire has learned comedy this morning. How fun.” 

“I'll show you fu-” Astarion rears back, blinking in bewilderment. His nose scrunches up, sniffling before sneezing - violently.

She didn't even know vampires could sneeze.

Gone is the dastardly man with the killer good looks though. Just… gone from her sight. Kalmia sits up swiftly and an alarmed squeak brings her eyes down to the emerald green duvet. A fluffy white bat with overly large ears and a short, pink snout stares up at her with confused red eyes. 

Well, isn't this something? 

“My, oh my, irthiski, seems I'm not the only shape changer around.” She rubs at his fuzzy head with a finger, and in typical Astarion-fashion, he bares teensy fangs that shimmer like pearls. “What a cutie pie! I could eat you right up!”

That raises another squeak from him, though she can hear the rage burning behind it. How mighty it is, but a dragon does not cower from such things. 

“You should be able to speak normally, come on, use your words.” Kalmia nudges him a bit too hard, knocking him over on the sheets. “Oops, sorry!”

There's little grumbling noises that sound suspiciously like speaking, he must be getting a grasp of this new body, it'll take time. Astarion is wobbling around best he can, using his wings as crutches to stand up, the little hook at the end catching on the bedding so he gets stuck, letting out more angry squeaks.

Oh gods, her heart might explode from the cuteness.

“I'm going to pick you up, can't have you tearing all the bedding.” Gingerly, Kalmia wraps her hand around his fuzzy body, picking him up and offering her other hand as support beneath his legs.

The grunting finally becomes audible, “You- What have you…” His lungs aren't at their usual capacity, a full sentence is a struggle. “What have you done, you witch?!”

“Oh, I turn you into a cat once and now it's my fault?”

“What in the…" He gasps, "hells am I?” His small head is angling around to get a look at himself, but she'll do him one better.

The Truesight mirror, its shiny reflection and lacquered wood encasing reveals all.

They stand now in front of it, holding her hands out so Astarion can gaze upon his visage - his favorite activity, but definitely not hers. “You're a bat, irthiski. I've heard vampires can do this sometimes, but maybe you're a late bloomer.”

“Late bloomer-!” He erupts into more enraged squeaks and growls, almost completely falling off her hand before his grabby feet latch onto her finger on instinct, dangling precariously upside down. “A damned bat! I don't want to be this! Where's my beautiful body?!”

Ignoring his dramatics and pressing a smooch to his head, she smiles widely. “I know someone who would be very excited to see this sight.” And they depart from their room, striding into Izmezine's where the girl is just waking up. “Good morning, anon ! Who do you think this is?”

Izzy sits up, blinking her bleary eyes and rubbing them with a big yawn, before scrunching her button nose to inspect the white ball of fluff in Kalmia's hands. Her lips form into a frown, turning her head away in disgust. “It's ugly.” 

That was not the reaction I anticipated. 

The wail of anguish that leaves his tiny bat body is very impressive, if not over-reactive. Setting Astarion down on the bed, Izzy pulls away slightly, what a terrible start but Kalmia will fix this. “Izmezine, sweetie, please, this is your father. He's turned into a bat by accident. Let's be nice.” 

That gets Izzy to take a peek again, and she looks to Kalmia for confirmation. “T-Th-That’s my papa?”

“Yes.” 

Poor Astarion is trembling against the bed, the words of his daughter like a stake straight through his heart, but at least he's stopped crying. Izzy reaches forward hesitantly, brushing a finger against his fur and she gasps, “He's s-soft!” She goes back in for a more gentle pet, “W-Why is papa a-a baby?”

Finally finding his words again, Astarion speaks up, “I don't know, I just turned into a bat, but kitten, you think I'm ugly ?” That last word barely makes it out as a squeak. Gods, he's going to be hung up on that for ages.

Izzy scrutinizes him further, golden eyes narrowing and appraising the bat before her. “Uhm, a l-little ugly?” Kids are always so blunt, Astarion should feel lucky that Izzy has enough sense to walk her statement back. The gold eyes turn up to her now, “Kalli, I'm hungry.”

“Me too, let's go have breakfast. What would you like?” Kalmia scoops up the whinging bat and places him on her shoulder, then holds Izzy against her hip. 

“Cake!” Is Izzy's first breakfast suggestion.

“Normally I'd agree, but a cake takes a long time to make, how about we make one later and we can have some scones and jam now?”

The dhampir thankfully concedes to that idea and they settle in for an easy breakfast while bat-Astarion clumsily scrabbles along the counter, whining, “I'm hungry too, you know.”

Seems Kalmia isn't the only one that becomes ravenous when changed. “I'll get you food in a bit. Let me take care of my anon first.”

He collapses into a sad pile, crying endlessly, “My daughter thinks I'm ugly, my lizard is starving me. Where is the love?!”

Kalmia slathers some jam onto a scone, ignoring him, “Izzy, what would you like to do today?”

“Can p-papa go in my h-house?” She asks around a mouthful of food.

“Hmm,” Kalmia eyes the worming creature before her, the image of Astarion being stuffed into the doll house is hysterical, but… “I don't think he would like that. Bats are supposed to be able to fly, maybe we can help him learn.”

Both Izzy and Astarion perk up at that, their eyes shining with new possibilities. “You really think I can?” Astarion seems apprehensive at the prospect.

“I don't see why not, irthiski. We can try it out once you get some food.” With breakfast finished, Kalmia takes the bat downstairs, leaving Izzy with the task of gathering pillows and blankets. “What blood do you want?”

“Yours.”

She brings the bat in her hands close to her face, “If you have it now, you can't have it later.”

More grumbling follows, “Fine, get me a glass of the boar.”

Filling a goblet to the top, Kalmia rests them both on their desk. Astarion's little wing hooks grab onto the lip and he shimmies his little body up the length of it, long tongue lapping up the blood. She watches quietly with her head tucked between her hands as a red stain begins to bloom along his snout and neck as he drinks. 

“Kalli! The-The blankies and p-pi-pillows are ready!” Izmezine shouts down the stairs.

Astarion pulls away, flopping down to the desk, “I'm full.” The goblet's halfway empty now, she's impressed by his apetite. They return upstairs now after a cleanup, finding the sitting room absolutely covered in blankets and pillows. 

Setting her bat on the couch, Kalmia gives Izzy a big kiss on her cheek and squeezes her into a tight hug, “I knew I could count on you to go above and beyond! Wow, look at all this coziness!” 

The girl giggles in her arms and Astarion pouts, crossing his wings in a pitiful stance, “What about me? ”

“I didn't forget you, irthiski!” Kalmia showers his tiny head in kisses and Izmezine does the same. He melts at their love. “I don't know how different it is from being a dragon, but my first time flying was… a little wild, you know? I think my mother just threw me off a cliff a few times until I got it. Be thankful for our care, Astarion.”

Izzy nods like she completely understands the lengths they are going to take care of him and he scoffs, “Your mother is a brute.” Kalmia only remembers those days with fondness, he wouldnt understand.

“No! Nafl i-is nice!” Izzy corrects him with a tap to the snout.

“I turn into a rodent and you both gang up against me? Where is the-”

Kalmia interrupts, “Enough. This should come somewhat naturally to you, but we'll start here on the couch and move up in height, ok? Now get to flapping.”

His beady little eyes glare at her and she just smiles sharply back. He's testy, big or small. With a despondent huff, Astarion shuffles along to the edge of the couch, stretching his leathery wings and shaking them out. 

The first few attempts end with an immediate face plant to the ground, and while he may not admit it, Astarion is very thankful for the pillows now. The fifth attempt though? His wings find the right rhythm and angle, so he glides down to the end of their makeshift protections. More tries are made, his gliding and flapping now consistent. 

Kalmia and Izzy erupt into applause, and she isn't quite sure if she imagines the blush on those little bat cheeks. “Higher now, Astarion?”

“Yes, yes!” He's glowing with pride at his newfound capabilities. Raising him up to the fireplace ledge, he huddles on the ledge peering down to the blanket laden ground. “Alright, I can do this.”

Izzy cheers from the sidelines, “Papa can f-fly!”

With one step, Astarion dives over the edge, flapping vigorously to maintain his height, and it sticks. He's flitting about excitedly, if not a little haphazardly, cackling gleefully. Kalmia, while very happy for Astarion, is concerned he's being too reckless. “ Irthiski, you should slow down and watch where you're going!”

His head whips to her, “Never! Nothing can sto-!” and he smashes head first into a wall, crumbling to a heap of bat limbs on the floor. Izzy shrieks, running over to his still form.

The downside to an undead partner? Can't really tell what kind of damage they've sustained because they don't breath or exhibit any of the normal symptoms.

Astarion is probably fine though. 

I hope.

“Don't worry, Izzy, your father will be ok. He'll just need to… sleep that off.” Kalmia strokes the girl's head, whose eyes are welling with large tears. “We should find him somewhere to rest.” She is concerned that he's not changing back… but vampires don't die that easily, no matter how small they are.

Izzy zips downstairs and returns with two doll-sized beds, laying them down by the fireplace with extra bedding so it's very cozy. Kalmia assists in putting his bat-self onto the bed and covering him with blankets. “Kalli, m-ma-make a f-fire! Papa’s c-cold!” Stacking some logs, Kalmia breathes fire onto them, stoking the flames until the room is toasty. With a sniffle, Izzy lays out next to her father and rests her hand on him, “I take c-care of papa.”

“I know you will. You watch over him so I can get lunch started, ok? We can eat here.” Kalmia kisses her forehead before setting off to the kitchen. 

It's always an adventure with them.

++++

Over an hour later, Izzy has fallen asleep looking after Astarion's limp body, which hasn't even twitched all this time. 

Maybe it's time to take matters into her own hands. 

Or fingers.

Pricking the tip of her index finger, Kalmia places it up against Astarion's bat snout, hoping the pooling blood will work like vampire smelling salts.

And of course it does, she should have thought of this earlier. 

His snout wiggles side to side, seeking out the delicious scent before him, and begins licking at the drop the moment he makes contact. Red eyes blink open, looking haggard, “What- What happened?”

Kalmia picks up her sad bat, cradling him in her arms, “You crashed into the wall going much too fast. Izmezine took very good care of you, so you should thank her once she's up.”

“How do I change back? If I spend another moment like this, I'm going to become quite cross with-”

“Hush, you're always angry. I normally just think about being me, so maybe try that?” 

Astarion goes silent for a while, so he must be trying anything to be himself again. Nothing happens though and he grumbles unhappily, “This is stupid. I don't want to be stuck as a flying rodent for the rest of my life. How will Izmezine be able to introduce me to people? ‘ Oh, come meet my father! The bat? Yes, that's him!’ Kalmia, I can't stay like this!”

“Shall I tickle your nose? A sneeze seemed to set it off the first time.”

His bat face goes through a range of emotions, before settling on sadness, “This is so unbecoming, but fine. Do it.”

Kalmia locates a feather pretty quickly, Gale has quills laying out everywhere, and lightly shuffles the tip across Astarion's nose. His nose wrinkles but nothing happens, and he folds in on himself in defeat. 

“I'm sorry, irthiski. We'll figure something out.” She does feel terribly for him, nothing is worse than being stuck in a form at the wrong time. She knows it well.

“Mmm, papa?” Izzy’s sleep laden voice pulls their attention as she starts grabbing at the doll beds, but realizes nothing is there, so she shoots up, alarmed. “Papa?! Wh-Where are y-you?”

“I have him, anon, it's ok.” 

Crawling over, Izzy pets her father, also seeming sad that he's still stuck like this. Who's going to read the bedtime story for them?

But if Astarion continues to be a bat, might as well take advantage of this opportunity. “You know, Izzy, I think he's kind of dirty. We should bathe him.”

The girl's eyes light up, “Yes!”

“What?! What do you think-” Astarion begins to shout.

Kalmia presses a finger against his snout. “You've been outvoted. Accept your fate.”

He whines and complains all the way downstairs, and once the bath is filled a few inches deep, she settles the little bat in. Izzy gets to work swiftly, wetting his fur and carefully working in the shampoo. Kalmia assists from the sidelines, but Izzy has it handled. 

Astarion's taking this with as much grace as possible, letting Izmezine do as she pleases, because there is never a world in which he would deny her.

But this time must come to an end, it seems.

He makes a strange noise, like a sharp intake of breath, and sneezes, splashing water everywhere when a vampire reappears where a bat once sat.

His resting clothes are soaked and Astarion is absolutely covered in soap, hair flattened against his head as he sneers at the two of them. ‘You two have had a lot of fun today. I think daddy needs some payback.” Izzy and Kalmia both shriek with laughter as they attempt to run, but Astarion grabs them both, dragging them into the tub, turning the water on. “If I had to suffer, then so should you!”

Once they're all soaking wet and giggling, they climb out of the bathtub, drying off, Kalmia has a new idea. “Ready to make a cake, Izzy?”

The girl jumps up and down in excitement, “I w-want pink frosting!”

“Any requests, irthiski?”

He runs a towel over Izzy's curls, “One of Gale's nice bottles of wine. I'm just… going to lie down, my body hurts.”

Kalmia laughs, “You'll get used to it.”

“Ugh, I sure hope not. If I never turn into a rodent again, it will still be too soon.”

++++

Notes:-anon = flower (draconic) -nafl (short for nafldask) = grandmother (draconic)

[heybank]

DENY PART TWO

ok i think i might make a series about my jj x reader x pope fic

also kind of dedicated to @starfxkr bc their blog gets me through the jj pope drought that is on tumblr (if you don't wanna be tagged i'll totally delete but i luv you even tho i don't know you

this isn't technically a part two but it's inspired by my previous fic deny

i'm hoping to maybe fully flesh out a whole mini story about them bc i love jj and pope so bad and i wanna kiss them both and have them kiss each other.

please send me prompts or if you have any ideas or you just wanna gush about jj and pope 💜

i'm a cancer, ok

you've always felt your emotions more deeply than others. you have a lot of feelings and it's not uncommon for you to start tearing up at random times throughout the day when you see something that elicits a strong feeling from you.

kie says it's because you're a cancer and while she's so true because you are the stereotypical emotional water sign, you're not sure how much of your mental state is because of your astrological sign or if you're genuinely a few screws loose in the head.

you remember hiccuping and sobbing into jjs shirt for the better part of half an hour- staining his sleeveless tee with your tears all because you saw a seagull missing a foot and he seemed to be running slower than his other seagull friends. your only relief from the obvious heartbreaking situation was jj softly murmuring comforting words in your ear, his strong arms around circled around your waist, your body snuggled onto his lap. the scene isn't uncommon for the pogues to see. the two of you have always been more affectionate than most.

all of this leads you to where you are now, curled up on your bed sobbing. soft sad music playing in the background making you sob even more. you put on a brave face with your friends but in the sanctuary of your own bed is where you can finally let your feelings free.

seeing pope and jj kiss hurt you more than you originally thought. your mind keeps replaying the scene of the two boys kiss, their lips moving together sensually, saliva being shared. you're sure that if you hadn't interrupted them, the kiss would lead to something more and involving less clothes.

hey google, play "that should be me" by justin bieber.

what if when they start dating they drop you? what if pope isn't comfortable with how touchy or affectionate you are with jj and he stops your cuddles or what if jj doesn't want you to hang out alone with pope because he knows you two kissed. what if they stop needing you because they have each other?

the thought makes a sob crawl up your throat and fat tears roll down your cheeks. you feel like your head is going to explode from how hard your crying. you need them like air, you felt like that even before you and pope kissed and before you realized you're in love with jj. you need them because they're your closest friends- they're the family you so desperately crave because your own doesn't care much for you and you're so scared if they start dating each other then they won't need you.

it's why you give out your love so freely, the feeling of being needed by people is something that is so deeply and inherently buried in your bones. when someone needs you and you can help them, it feels euphoric. a psychologist would probably have a field day with you because if you're not needed, what good are you?

----

"i'm really confused after our kiss" pope mumbles, nervous to look at jj in the eyes.

"good or bad confused" jj responds.

"is there such thing as good confusion?" pope asks, eyebrows furrowed and lips pursed. "i didn't think i was gay or bi or whatever and yeah i think some dudes are hot but like i've never wanted to kiss them but i wanted to kiss you!! and then we kissed and it was like... nice but different and i couldn't help but think about gracie and how she and i kissed and how good that also felt and then i felt guilty and-"

"pope, take a breath" the maybank boy utters, effectively cutting off popes rambles.

"i liked kissing you pope. i never let myself be attracted to dudes but it's you, ya know?" jj continues.

"but i also understand wanting to kiss grace. i... well i want to kiss her too." he finally confesses. he's never said his feelings for his grace out loud before.

pope gently stumbles over to where the maybank boy is perched on his bed, he leans in to grab jjs fidgeting hands, grasping them in what he hopes is a comforting hold.

he leans forward so he can give jj a small peck on the cheek. reassuring him that they're ok, that they'll make it through whatever turmoil they're feeling right now.

jj grabs popes face and brings him in for a deeper kiss, lips and tongues touching. it makes jjs stomach burn with desire. after several minutes or maybe hours of kissing, he's not sure, pope reaches up and pulls on jjs soft blond tresses, tugging on the boys hair a little to pull him away from popes lips. they both let out little gasps when they disconnect.

"have you heard of polyamory?" pope asks jj... a shit eating grin on his lips.

---

giggling and kicking my feet. i love them 💜

[silverskye13]

Crawls in, summones. Don't think I didn't see that tag. Rancher SOS AU? - Dove

[looks around conspiratorially.]

Just... Don't tell anyone where you got it okay?

[slips you this snippet]

[tips my hat]

On the house!

Tango was muddling through his clockwork horse’s engine, making sure all his tinkering from the weeks before wasn't falling apart. There were some signs of tension from the heat -- going from a dead stop to a gallop had probably done that -- but nothing looked like it was about to explode or melt or fall apart. He moved on to the less crucial bits, staring into the shoulders to make sure the sockets weren't breaking down from the strain of pulling.

“Does she have a name?”

Jimmy’s voice was so close by his ear, Tango felt it as much as he heard it. He gave an inglorious cry filled with half a dozen incoherent syllables. He spun on his heels and, startled again by how close Jimmy was standing, smacked the swordsman on the arm. He might as well have smacked a brick wall.

“Hey hey hey! Personal space!” Tango shouted, taking a step backwards only to press his back against the horse’s flank, cornered. “Are you trying to give me a heart attack or what?”

Jimmy’s eyebrows raised in surprise, his blue eyes so pale in the morning light, they were nearly white. He raised his hands placatingly and laughed, a loud, bubbling sound that turned everything from the expression on his face to the tilt of his shoulders into a grin. “Woah! Sorry Big Man! I thought you heard me come up.”

“Well I didn't!” Tango snapped a little too fiercely, his heart racing. His mouth was dry, and there was a fearful moment where he wondered if Jimmy had seen him, had known what he was doing.

Wonder workers weren't taboo -- at least, not in Anuket City, where innovation was something fervently pursued, and anything that could grant someone a head start was expected to be exploited. But he heard tales of wonder workers who were run out of their villages because of the strangeness of their gifts; of priests of the Hanged Mother and similar cults who would use any excuse to persecute people. More recently, there had even been rumors of a rogue wonder worker to the north whose horrible clay creations came to life and chopped off people's heads. Being a wonder worker was starting to get dangerous again, and Tango… Tango was scared. And it was obvious he was scared. And it struck him suddenly, standing there, pinned between this massive swordsman and his stupid clockwork horse, that he didn't know anything about the man he was traveling with, besides the fact that he whistled and enjoyed small talk, and was capable of great violence.

Jimmy offered an apologetic smile. He kept his hands forward, fingers splayed to reinforce their emptiness, and took a large, exaggerated step back. “I really am sorry, Tango. I should've figured you'd still be a bit keyed up from yesterday. You okay?”

It was all Tango could do not to audibly sigh with relief. He latched onto the excuse like it could save him from drowning. “I’m… yeah I'm a little freaked out I guess. It was hard to get to sleep last night.”

Both not technically lies.

“First time having your life threatened?” Jimmy asked lightheartedly, his smile still apologetic.

“Er… no.” Tango mumbled, scuffing his boot across the ground, feeling embarrassed. “I had a rival engineer sabotage one of my machines once.”

“No kidding?”

“It exploded,” Tango said. “I was lucky I was out of the room when it went off.”

“I did notice you were lacking the ah, outward signs of a close shave with an explosion,” Jimmy laughed nervously, and Tango thought that was probably the most roundabout way to say ‘You've got all your limbs, and aren't covered in burn scars.’

Tango swallowed hard, and decided to change the topic before they dipped into new, perilous territory. “How about you? Feeling… uh… jumpy?”

“What? Me?” Jimmy gave a dashing grin, “I've had worse than a pair of robbers running at me before.” His expression mellowed a bit, and he thumbed the bandages on his forearm thoughtfully. “I'd be lying if I said I was used to this kind of thing. You don't just get used to people trying to kill you. But… I dunno. It's like -- it's like dealing with a fear of deep water by learning how to swim, isn't it? It's scary, but you know how to keep your head above water, yeah?”

Tango blinked, struck momentarily speechless by the unexpectedly profound answer. “Yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, fear not, dear Tango of the Tek Variety,” Jimmy said, reclaiming his bravado. He flashed Tango a winning smile and a sweeping bow. “As long as I'm kicking around, you’re safe. Or as safe as anyone can be, anyway. It is what I'm here for.”

“Right, yeah, exactly,” Tango chuckled, a blush heating the tips of his ears. He could say with honesty he'd never been offered a knightly bow by anyone before. Up until this exact moment, he probably would have called such a gesture showy and stupid. He didn't know how Jimmy had managed to make it charming, Tango could feel his pulse quickening a bit in his chest.

Oh gods.

“We should -- we should get going.” Tango said, desperate for a distraction from this over-friendly swordsman and his dashing bravado. “We’re burning daylight.”

“Right you are,” Jimmy smirked, and, whistling, got to work striking camp. Tango muttered a few choice words under his breath about stupid nonsense feelings and stupid pretty people, and finished checking the horse for repairs.

[thelittleliars]

Surprise (3/4)

Warnings: Fluff; a bit of angst and nfsw

Words: 2.6K

Summary: You being a gay mess around Natasha

A/N: Part 3 is finally here!!! I didn't proofread it so there might be mistakes. If you want to be added or get removed from the tag list just let me know! Part 4 will also be the final chapter in this series so enjoy!!

[Part 1: Silence ; Part 2: Second Chance ; Part 4: Survive]

Hell broke loose after thanksgiving. Some kind of mutated virus spread, most of the Avengers were immune since they had already had different DNA but you normal people hit it hard. Natasha, Kate, Yelena and you apparently came in contact with the virus and had to move to a secluded facility on the compound’s ground. You four were in isolation, each one of you alone in a room with a glass front. You didn't know if Clint and Scott had to do this in their own homes too. Those poor kids would see this cruelty of a virus.

Natasha rebelled against being in a room alone, she wanted to be in yours, she had to continue fixing the mess she created but the agents who also were to watch us twenty four seven didn't let her. 

It was around the 9th day when Natasha exploded, she couldn't stand not being able to see and touch you when both of you were only separated by a thin wall. "GET ME OUT OF HERE! JUST PUT ME IN Y/N'S ROOM!" She started to bang on the glass hard, it was no use though, the glass was solid. 

Even though you couldn't see her, you heard her yelling and banging against the glass. "Nat, calm down." You tried to get to her but that was also no use. Hearing your voice made her even more desperate to be moved to you. The itch inside of Natasha would only stop the second she could hug you. 

"Please," she pleaded. "Let me continue this isolation with my wife." All attention was on Natasha now. She just called you her wife, every single part of your body felt like it was on fire, the burning desire of being her wife was suddenly the only thing in the world that you wanted. You knew you had feelings for Natasha, you suspected it during the time apart before you realized it on thanksgiving.

"Ms Romanoff, we have no record of your apparent marriage with Y/N Y/L/N." An agent who worked here to monitor us, told that Natasha. She was quick to correct him that it was Mrs Romanoff. "I'm sorry Mrs Romanoff, without any document we can't let you-"

"Alright you got me! We're only engaged but the wedding would have been in a couple of days. I'd like to think her as my wife already." If you didn't know Natasha from the inside out then you'd have believed her right there. Hell you actually believed her for a fracture of a second because how convincing she sounded. In all the years you've known her, you never once saw her using her sweet talk skills, not only did it impress you hugely but something inside of you shifted. You found her actions very sexy.

The second she was brought into your room, you avoided eye contact at all costs since you're a bit embarrassed about the way you just thought about her. Natasha was also quiet as she sat down on your bed with a good amount of distance from you. Usually she'd have greeted you with a warm hug but she also was embarrassed, just about how impulsive she acted and what she said to get to you. The black widow didn't know what came over her.

You scooted over but only so far that your knees were touching, which made her  jump, she didn't expect the closeness. You saw it but ignored it, you started to dance your fingers along her thigh towards her hands that were resting in her lap. Once you reached them you took one of her hands in your own, her warmth spread over to you and you melted on the inside.

"So about that wife part.." You whispered while drawing tiny patterns on the back of her hand with your thumb. Natasha exhaled loudly, thinking of the best way to explain her actions. When she came up with nothing logical she simply shrugged. 

"I knew you're good at sweet talking and seducing since I all the stories but bloody hell, I didn't expect you to be THAT good." You finally turned your head to look at her when you saw she already looked at you intensely. Nat frees her hand from your hold, lifted it up to your face and traced the outline of your jaw. Your heart had never pounded so fast in your entire life as right there. She leaned closer to you, feeling her warm breath all over your face, while you wait for her next move. "You haven't seen nothing yet baby." She said it more quietly but in such a raspy way. You sat there frozen and errored with a gay panic rushing through you. When she leaned back and saw the look on your face, a huge grin broke out. "This was just a preview."

"Just because you know I'm gay now doesn't mean you're allowed to cause gay panics!" The words stumbled out of you fast. Your mind was still racing with thousand of thoughts, it was even worse than your nightly routine of overthinking.

"Just don't fall in love with me." The red head winked and you honestly didn't know if she was serious or just teasing you.

"Afraid that I can't control myself around you if I fall for you?" You shot back with sudden confidence. 

"Darling, nobody can control themself around me. I mean just look at me." She cockily told you. 

"Then stop flirting with me and we'll be both fine." Deep inside you knew that you'd end up falling in love if Natasha would continue flirting. 

"Whatever.“ She rolled her eyes before bumping her should into you to keep everything light, then brought up a story you didn't know yet in hope to continue to fix the riff she caused. You knew it wasn't much but it still was the beginning of trusting each other again and a way to strengthen your bond. 

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Later that day there was a bit more commotion from the agents monitoring us. You didn't pay it any attention, your concentration was completely on the book in your hands, it was a new thriller you bought recently. The only time you actually looked up was when you heard someone saying your nickname. You made eye contact with non other than one of your old flames, she and all the other old flames of your knew your status of being in the closet and thankfully they kept that secret with them. 

"Agent Holm!" You exclaimed with excitement. "It's so nice to see you again, it's been too long."

"You know you can call me Leyla so please do that." She smiled at you, thinking to herself that it had been way too long to meet again. "Well, you're one of the unlucky ones who contracted with the virus huh?" 

You stood up from the bed you sat on when you read your book, now walking towards Leyla who stood at the glass front. Then you decided to sit on the ground with crossed legs. "As you already know, the universe and my body loves to attracted every kind of shit." 

Natasha, who was working out, came out of her trance when she heard you talking to someone. She didn't recognized the brunette you were talking to, the woman seemed familiar to her but could not match a name to the face and that irritated her. You seemed so free and happy to talk to the brunette, and with the way you looked at her.. Natasha was literally fuming with jealousy that the second you laughed at something the agent said, something inside of her just snapped. 

"So how come you two get to share a space but not these two?" Leyla pointed behind her towards Kate and Yelena, who were in separated rooms. 

"Perks of being best friends?" You hoped you were convincing enough but also knew that your reason was weak. 

"And they were roommates!!!" She said in fake shock. You blushed profusely, trying to hide it by looking down and also shaking your head fast to deny her claims. "No no no, Stop. It isn't like that!"

"Then please enlighten me!" She smirked at you, still loved teasing the heck out of you.

"I-I-I can't explain how but she convinced one of the agents to let her isolate with me. It also only happened earlier today!" You looked over your shoulder to where Natasha was last training but she wasn't there anymore, in fact she was nowhere to be seen. But then she came out of the bathroom wearing only shorts and a black bra, a small white towel was hanging around her neck that fell right down towards her boobs. Your eyes widened at the sight of her, a fire inflamed in you and heat rushed in more than one place. You felt pathetic in how easy she suddenly affects you. 

"It isn't like that." Agent Holm mocking the  words you said a minute made you finally look away. You mumbled a small fuck off which she laughed off. "If you haven't made a move on her then I definitely will."

"Well then shoot your shot." You basically dared her. She raised her eyebrows before putting her left arm up to the glass and leaned against it. "Hey Romanoff!" 

Natasha looked to you guys, wondering what the agent could want from her. "Yes?" Leyla pointed towards you, "This hot shot wants to spar with you."

You shook your head in denial, sparring with Natasha in general was difficult already since both of you were very competitive but it'd be your death now with having feelings for her and her looking so incredible hot. Natasha purposely flexed her arms when she saw you looking over to her and if you weren't gay panicking before then you definitely were now. "Oh yeah?" Natasha's eyes twinkled mischievously, you knew how much trouble she'd cause if you didn't stop her. 

"Listen, Leyla was just kidding! She loves fucking with me." You turned back towards the brunette but she left you alone with your crush. Anxiously you spun back towards Nat, she had a teasing smile on her face that nearly made you fall to your knees. "Why would she want to fuck with you like this though?" The red head walked with slow and confident steps to you, only stopping when she was a few inches away. Then she leaned in, you felt her warm lips near your ear that made a shiver ran down your spine, her breath was also very warm and you didn't know how to function anymore. "I guess I know why." Her whispering was so soft that you thought you were currently dying in gayness. "It's fun and easy to fuck with you."

You stood there frozen even after Natasha walked a few steps back to give you some space. Leyla's voice snapped you out of it. She was still gone but you could hear her talking loudly in the distance.

"Someone send a medic to Y/N. I think she is having a huge gay panic." You hid your face in your hands after hearing Leyla telling the other agents. Nat giggled quietly to herself but you still heard her. It really was going to be a hellish long day. 

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After two weeks of quarantine and painful isolation, you all got checked out throughly by a doctor before being able to go back to the main compound area. The Avengers all greeted you back, hugs and kisses on your cheeks were given. Wanda was so nicely and made a warm welcome back meal. Everyone ate it with big smiles on their faces, praising Wands for her cooking skills and being thankful for making such great food. Afterwards Yelena and you went to your rooms while Kate went to the archer training room to practice her aim again and Natasha just simply disappeared without saying where she was going. 

It was around 6pm when you decided to get ready for bed and relax with a smutty book. You were relieved to have your privacy back, two weeks without any kind of sexual pleasure had you rilled up, it also didn't help that Natasha constantly walked around in a tank top and did her workout stretches right in front of you. You jumped into you bed and grabbed the book, the begining of the story was slow at first but got steamy fast. Before you could even reach the dirty part that you craved reading, a body plopped down next to you.

"Whatcha reading?" The freshly showered black widow asked you while she placed her hand on your stomach and nuzzling her whole body into your side.

Though you were extremely frustrated that you couldn't even get to the start of fucking yourself, it washed away by all the embarrassment you were feeling of getting caught reading smut. "Nothing." It came out of you too fast, Natasha only wanted to make a bit of small talk before falling asleep but your quick nothing got her curious. "Y/N, what's the book about?" 

"Sapphic love." More like sapphics making love but she didn't need to know that. Natasha immediately knew that you weren't telling her everything so she was going after the book herself. You squealed and tried your best to hide the book but she simply sat on your lower stomach and somehow got ahold of both of your wrists and held them above your head. The book was in her free hand and she opened it easily to read things out loud from a random page. 

"You couldn't wait for Ella's finger to enter you. The imagination alone had you wet, your underwear was soaking and it clinged to your body in way that made you eager to remove it." Nat's green eyes went wide, she absolutely didn't expect this kind of stuff. "I-"

"Let's just forget this ever happened, okay?"

"This is how you get off?" She let go of your wrist but didn't make a move to get off your body.

"Duh! It's obviously better than watching porn." 

"Why don't you just ask Wanda like almost everyo-?" "What?" You stared at her in shock. Was this why everyone was always THAT satisfied after they bragged about the sex they 'just' had. "Wanda's magic is heavenly. Her mist makes you feel so vulnerable and kisses all of you sensitive spots and when it penetrates you.. god, it's an orgasm you'll never forget."

"Now I have a vivid image in my head of Wanda fucking you and the others with her magic.. thanks." You shut your eyes in hope of loosing that image. "You're welcome." 

Natasha rolled off you in one move, laying next to you again and closing her eyes too. Both of you wish each other a good night before quickly falling asleep. 

It was a couple days after the smut book incident when you woke up extremely sweaty and disoriented. After a few seconds you realized that you were drenched in sweat, your clothes were wet and your mattress was moist. Panic immediately rised inside of you, it consumed you so much that you almost emptied your stomach the second you stood up. You got up and walked slowly to your bathroom with the last strength you had. The sight of yourself in the mirror shocked you, an extremely pale- almost ghostly white version of you stood there and stared back. "Jarvis, call Nat." 

"Calling Natasha now." The A.I. told you in it's human-robotic voice and it didn't take long before you heard her calling your name.

"Nat, I don’t feel so good." It was the last thing you got out before everything went black. 

Tags: @janashstorm , @marvelwomen-simp , @wifeofnatasharomanoff , @lizlil , @how-to-disappearrr , @wandanats-goodgirl , @natsxwife

[vhstown]

tag team

— hobie brown x gn!reader

summary: Authoritarian regimes aren't immune to a bit of graffiti; you can't do it without Spider-Punk, though.

content/warnings: fluff, banter (that has the... unintended effect), mentions of politics + discrimination, brief mentions of police brutality + being shot (nobody is hurt dw), london slang is used (im a londoner but still might be a bit ooc lol).

word count: 1.9k

a/n: camden version of hobie. reader is a hopeless loser (rnt we all). ambiguous relationship sort of? criticisms accepted + appreciated ! (i dont write hobie much 💀)

"Go on, then."

Spider-Punk — or Hobie, as you knew him, stood opposite you in the backstreet, arms crossed and with a grin you could practically see under his mask. The metal spray paint can was cool in your hand, which was already clammy with adrenaline as you brought the it to the wall.

This was your idea. It was supposed to be a joke at first, but Hobie thought it was brilliant. He wouldn't let it go: tagging up places in this part of town — the part where people like you and Hobie weren't welcome. Behind the fences and less-than-subtle signs to "keep out", entire neighbourhood reeked of Wilson Fisk: anti-punk, anti-rebellion, autocrat, about class and "serving the man" — whatever the hell that meant. Now, it was going to reek of paint that probably wasn't safe to inhale — at least, the back of some rich white bloke's house was.

Well, "rich white bloke" and "random politician" were interchangeable. You'd be fine; that's what Hobie told you anyway.

The can rattled in your hand as you shut one eye, holding your breath before red paint spurted out onto the wall. Hobie watched in silence, probably in amusement too. You debated threatening him with the can as a joke while you marked out the start of your drawing, feeling the eyes of his mask on your back. The breath you'd taken in before left you, and you haphazardly drew in another shallow one.

You'd been thinking about this for a while: making trouble under the guise of your friendly neighbourhood Spider-Punk, or protest, as Hobie liked to call it. His vigilante persona didn't exactly have the best reputation around here, or anywhere, in fact. Maybe you could change that — or worsen it. Either way, you had to breathe, so you took in another breath.

"Ah, shi—" The tight feeling in your throat exploded into a fit of violent coughing, and you were barely able to feel Hobie's hand on your back as you reeled away from the wall. "What the...?" you managed, before your eyes squeezed shut again, feeling another cough wring through your lungs.

"A'ight, that's definitely not normal." Hobie leaned over with a hand on your shoulder before he took the can out of your hands. You could make out his frown behind the tears stinging at your eyes as you tried to swallow back another cough.

"Yeah?" You furrowed your brows, trying to straighten out your shoulders again. "Didn't know paint could give me TB."

"I haven't got TB," he shrugged, gloved fingers tapping at the can.

"Cause you've got a mask." Hobie suddenly gave you a ruthless thwack between your shoulder-blades, making you flinch. "I'm not coughing anymore, stupid!"

The eyes of his mask narrowed as you shot a look at him; the bastard was probably enjoying this. Maybe you were too.

"You wanna wear it?" he asked instead, thumb already hooked under the bottom of his mask before he pulled it back; his actual was expression more subtle, but still just as taunting.

"Don't you have a secret identity to keep?"

"Think you've got lungs to keep, big man." His knuckles knocked at the centre of your chest before pulling the mask over your face in one quick motion.

The fabric warmed your skin as you adjusted the neck of it a little, feeling the mask blink with you. It was weird; it was kind of like you had nothing on your head at all. But the warmth was definitely from the mask and not the fleeting feeling of his fingers on your chest — and not the devilish look he was giving you right now.

Creak...!

The two of you looked around at what sounded like a door opening. You looked at Hobie, and he just shrugged at you, lips pushed up in his usual unbothered half-frown. His Spider-sense musn't have gone off, but your heart rate did. If you were going do this, you better do it quick.

Though your reference was on your face right now, you knew Spider-Punk well enough to remember the mask. Hobie let out the start of a chuckle when he recognised the giant white eyes you painted over the red. The mask definitely helped. Your arm, already covered in specks of paint, made a popping sound as you reached up to do the spikes, finishing the giant mural of sorts of your lanky, loud-mouthed, anarchist best friend.

The punk in question gave you a slightly curious look as you stepped away, the eyes of the mask on your face narrowing as you scanned over the dripping wet portrait. Pulling it off of your head, your hair was somehow still completely in place as you handed the mask back; no wonder his wicks fit in there.

"Well," you started, watching him look at the mural. "Aren't you gonna sign it?"

"It's your work." He tilted his head down a bit, though mirth was already tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Yeah, and it's of you." It seemed like you didn't have to tell him twice before he zipped the can out of your hands with a flick of his wrist, already spraying an X onto the wall despite the mask hanging by his side. He didn't so much as clear his throat (lucky — you nearly died) as the letters F, N, S and M followed in each section of the X. That was the same symbol on the back of his vest, but you'd never bothered to ask about it.

"What does that stand for?" you questioned, arms folding as you mirrored his stance from before.

"Guess."

"I asked so I wouldn't have to guess." A silent grin you didn't want to entertain started forming on his face. "Fine, uh..."

You wracked your brain; it was probably more simple than you thought, but all your brain could conjure up was: "Fascists need stopping... uh, Monday?"

That got a ruthless snort out of him, making you press your lips together to try and take back your words. "Just Monday?"

"You told me to guess," you shrugged, rolling your eyes before they landed on the painting again. It was still wet; it was warm out, so the dripping wouldn't stop anytime soon. For some reason, it was always sunny in these neighbourhoods, almost like those autocrats had bought the sun too. Whatever, you didn't need the sun — a rebellious 6ft punk did just fine anyway; at least, that would explain why you were so warm around him all the time. "You gonna tell me or no?"

"Facists need stopping..." he mused, in a gratingly posh accent, hand brought up to his chin in a dramatic mockery of pondering. "Nah, I was thinkin' we should just leave it, you know? Let 'em be, innit?"

Hobie Brown — the only person you knew who would joke about their ideologies just to poke fun at you.

"Yeah, yeah, every other day of the week," you added dryly, getting a cackle out of Hobie.

"Thought you were meant to be smart, darling." The remnants of his mock-posh voice bleeding into the "darling". You could just tell he was being unserious — it was something you hated and loved about him. Why would you want him to be serious...?

"Thought you were supposed to be helpful," you spat back, getting another entertained breath out of him. Hobie shook his head before you suddenly snatched the can out of his hand, pointing it at him. The both of his loosely came up in mock-defense, but the grin on his face only grew.

"You threatenin' me now, yeah?" It sounded less like a question and more like another jab at your pride. Things had been a bit too quiet between you two recently, and you felt yourself getting fired up; it was a shame that your heart always raced like crazy whenever the banter started rising.

"Do it, then," he proposed at your silence, taking a step towards you and making you step back. "What's a bit of paint? You gonna cough again?"

"I actually will." You attempted to scrunch up your face in annoyance.

"Cough? I bet." His head tilted down to look at you, wicks shadowing everything but the amused glint in his eyes.

"You've got a serious problem." And you'd got a seriously warm face.

"Got more than just one problem, darlin'." You hated the way it came out of his mouth this time; you'd rather he pretend to speak like Fisk.

"Stop calling me that or I'll actually spray you."

"Didn't know you were a cop."

"Hobie." You let out a sigh, only serving to get another low chuckle out of him; he was so close you could almost feel the vibrations of his laugh. The fact that he was freakishly tall didn't help in the slightest, his silence along with the swirling feeling in your stomach making you unconsciously take a step back.

You winced immediately as you felt your back stick to the wet paint. "Oh, what the hell..."

Hobie's snickering didn't help. "You didn't have to move, you know."

You decided to ignore that, peeling yourself off of the wall and glancing behind you to see your back imprinted on the neck of your Spider-Punk portrait.

"Interesting artistic choice," he mused.

"Shut up, Hobie."

"On it, boss." You felt his hand on your shoulder before he turned you around, making the air catch at your throat as he peeked at your back, which now had a portrait of its own. "Blood of Monday fascists — very rebel. Got your outfit sorted for tonight."

"Your gig's tonight?" you groaned, trying not to look at his face over your shoulder and instead tossing the can back into the bag of other paint cans, still managing to catch how his lips pushed up in indifference, and probably mild entertainment.

"Nah, we're going out, darlin'," he snickered, and you felt him pinch the fabric wet with red paint to peel it off of your back. The rest of you was probably about to turn cartoonishly red too; this man just wouldn't give it a rest.

"Right, and I'm supposed to 'go out' looking like I got shot in the back."

"Like I'd let you," he muttered, removing his fingers from your back before shrugging off his vest, tossing it to you with the light clink of pins and buttons.

You raised an eyebrow, but he wasn't elaborating, so you put it on, trying not to cringe at the feeling of drying paint on your back. The vest was comfortable, though a bit heavy; it was cool, familiar, nice-smelling — like Hobie.

"Lookin' like a little me," he teased.

"I swear, if one more word comes out of your mouth—"

Your threat was cut short by the deafening blare of alarms, the wall in front of you flashing with a red that wasn't paint. Rich white bloke...

"Do all of them have alarms?" you whisper-shouted to Hobie.

"Looks like Willy does."

"Willy..." your brows knitted together as you watched Hobie pull his mask back on. "Fisk?!"

You'd just drawn a giant mural of Spider-Punk at the back of Wilson Fisk's house. A giant signed mural.

Without a chance for you to think, Hobie slung his arm around your back, and you weren't sure whether to be worried about being caught, annoyed about the paint pressing into your skin or absolutely bewildered as you felt your feel lift off the floor, clinging to him for dear life.

The bag of paint cans were zipped into his arm, with you, still wearing his vest, held against him by the other. Another one of his relentless cackles ripped through the air alongside the "thwip!" of his webs. Despite how absurd this was, a laugh of your own escaped too when you made out the fuming face of Wilson Fisk himself, a powerless, shouting little stain on the ground as you zipped away.

The fascists could wait 'til Monday. Right now, you had a gig to go to with Spider-Punk — or a date; he'd figure it out once the police were off of his tail.

🕸️🔭🎸

thank u for reading! i rly had to wrack my brain lmao ... not the best at writing hobie but it's okay im trying lol... again feedback is cool!

just fyi "big man" isn't really used as a gendered term! in my experience at least its used to casually poke fun at people. also if ur curious the FNSM symbol stands for friendly neighbourhood spider-man (i feel like im the only one that didn't know this um lmao)

if u liked this, reblogs r appreciated! catch the rest of my atsv stuff here <3