#counting on you my dear followers to help me win!!

[cfrog]

I submitted 4 LEDDlabs characters to @small-artist-oc-showdown, but only ONE might be accepted. WHO WILL WIN?

It could be Ollie, it could be Moe, it could be Rat........

Or it could be this guy :) Who knows!

Anyways this was just an excuse to make some fresh fullbody refs :]

read more about my guys on Toyhouse or keep an eye on this blog for more LEDDlabs coming soon i promise

these guys also have cool playlists if thats more your thing!

[runnning-outof-time]

Hiii K, congrats on your 3.5k! That’s such an amazing milestone 🥳🤩 I’d like to send in the following prompt for John. 17. “How do babies get made.” I felt like this would go very well with John 🤭 Can’t wait to see with what you’ll come up with!

Hi Daisy @peakyltd !! Thanks so much for sending this in!! I was hoping that someone would choose John for this prompt because you’re sooo right - it fits him perfectly!!! I hope you like what I did with this! Also a special thanks to @raincoffeeandfandoms for letting me use the ‘little chimney man’ who brings babies…you’ve helped (Y/N) immensely here! Enjoy! :)

PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!

Part of my 3.5k celebration — find more stories here!

That’s Not What Dad Said

John Shelby x Reader

Warnings: awkward talk about babies being born, a playful smack with a newspaper

Word Count: 677

Summary: (Y/N) gets a surprise when she and John’s oldest child asks a rather interesting question out of the blue.

The question that six year old James Shelby asked just about made (Y/N) spit the tea she was drinking right back into its cup. “Can you repeat that again, dear?” she prompted the child, silently hoping that she didn’t hear him correctly.

“How do babies get made?” the boy repeated his question. It was the exact question (Y/N) had heard. Word for word.

“Umm, well…” she trailed off, taking a few moments to try and think of how she’d tackle this. The boy was six…he didn’t need to know about the actual process that occurred. “So when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much, they have a talk, and in that talk, they decide that they want to have a baby. Then, there’s a man who comes down the chimney after hearing the talk and puts the baby in the mummy’s tummy. In nine months, the baby is born, and that’s how babies are made,” she finished her extravagent story with the exhale of a breath and an unsteady smile, hoping that it worked.

James looked at his mother, not saying anything for a few moments. “That’s not what dad said,” was what he finally said in response.

His statement immediately confused (Y/N). “Wha—what do you mean?” she rushed to ask, her eyes shifting between her son and her husband, who was still reading the newspaper and drinking tea; completely unbothered.

“Dad and uncle Arthur were talking yesterday and uncle Arthur was telling him about a lady he was with and I asked dad what he meant and he said that it’s how babies get ma…”

“Alright, I’ve heard enough. Why don’t you go and get ready for school, hmm?” (Y/N) cut the boy off, already having an idea of where the rest of his statement was going. Her insides were doing flips just thinking about her husband and his brother talking about stuff like that in James’ presence.

“Ok,” James nodded, hopping off of the chair without a second thought. (Y/N) was thankful he didn’t question it and did what she asked. He ran off then, leaving (Y/N) and John alone in the kitchen.

(Y/N) looked over at John, seeing him glance over at her while holding the cup up to his lips. He tried to be nonchalant and revert his eyes to the newspaper, but (Y/N) caught his gaze. “Would you like to tell me why you and Arthur were talking about those types of things with your boy in the room?” she asked him, her eyebrows raising as she spoke.

“We didn’t think he was listenin’ to us,” John tried to defend himself, setting the cup down so that he could look at her.

“He’s six, John. He listens to everything…and then he only remembers the things he isn’t supposed to,” she countered, her frustration shining through her words.

“It was a mistake, love. It won’t happen again,” he assured her, surrendering the argument because it was one he knew he couldn’t win.

“It better not,” (Y/N) emphasized, standing up from her chair to collect the empty dishes from the table. She walked them over to the sink, sitting them in it so that she could do the washing. Before getting to it, she walked back to where John was sitting with the newspaper in his hands. “Let me see that,” she said to him as she stopped at his side, motioning to the paper he was holding.

“Here,” he said, handing the paper over without second thought.

(Y/N) didn’t waste any time. She rolled the paper up and used it to lightly smack John on the back of the head, the sound of the whack from it filling the room.

“Oww!” he exclaimed, turning to look at her with wide eyes as he rubbed the back of his head.

A grin spread across (Y/N)’s face as she locked eyes with her husband. “I meant what I said,” she said then, seriousness present in her voice.

Tagged: @the-anxious-youth @mystcldydrms @look-at-the-soul @mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @lilyrachelcassidy @shelbydelrey @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry @stevie75 @dark-academia-slut @zablife @cillmequick @letal-y-poetica @depxiety @shelundeadxxxx @areyenotfondofmelobster @padfootdaredmetoo @crabat-the-queen @sebastianstangirl01 @everythingelseisextra @kmc1989 @papichulo120627 @brummiereader @adaydreamaway08 @kissforvoid @raincoffeeandfandoms @peakyltd @johannelis2302nely @wildheartsalwaysburn @dragons-are-my-favorite @jessimay89 @slaymybreathaway

MASTERLIST

[slaymybreathaway]

Batwife (Bruce Wayne x Reader)

"The Batman" 2022

Warnings: mentions of nudity

Word Count: 776

Masterlist

"The city's favourite couple are saying 'I do' this morning at Gotham Cathedral. Billionaire Bruce Wayne and Oscar Winning actress Y/n L/n made their first public appearance as a couple nearly 3 years ago at the premier of y/n's movie The Gravedigger," one reporter said.

Every news station in the city waited impatiently outside the cathedral for them to emerge. It was the event of the decade, the closest Gotham would ever get to a royal wedding.

Just then, the newlyweds emerged from the Church. Y/n was wearing a simple silk wedding dress with colourful flowers adorned on the lace sleeves that covered her arms. Bruce was looking sharp in a black suit. The handkerchief tucked neatly in his breast pocket was a bright yellow. Many fans speculate that the burst of colour was added by his new wife, the actress being famous for her making block colours fashionable again.

As soon as the doors of the Cathedral were opened, they were bombarded with flashing cameras and intrusive questions.

"Y/n, many speculate you are marrying for money," one particularly pushy reporter asked.

Bruce tried to get his new wife to ignore this statement but y/n turned around and spoke straight into his microphone. "I'm more than capable of making my own money, thank you," she said and followed her husband into the wedding car.

♡ 5 years later ♡

Y/n Wayne sat in living room watching, no studying the news. Every night she did the same, waiting for the headline she dreaded 'Masked Vigilante Found Dead'. Thankfully it hasn't happened yet.

Then, Alfred brought her a cup of coffee. "Here, I assume you won't go to sleep until Master Bruce comes home," he smiled slightly.

"Am I that readable?" she asked and took the cup "Anyways will you tell me when he does get home, please?"

Alfred agreed and y/n went back to watching the news.

An hour later, y/n was on the verge of falling asleep when Alfred came back in. "Master Bruce has arrived," he announced.

Y/n yawned. She got up, put on her robe and got in the elevator down to what her husband called the 'bat-cave' but she referred to it as the glorified basment.

When the elevator stopped y/n could see Bruce writing down the nights events.

"Dear Diary, it's Halloween today and I had to dress up like a bat. All the other kids made fun of me and stole my candy," she joked and walked over to him.

Bruce smiled "I told you not to wait around for me anymore honey," He closed his notebook and brought her face to kiss him.

She watched as he took out his camera contact lenses and placed them on the scanner.

Y/n knew that he wouldn't listen to her properly while watching the footage of tonight so she decided to mess with him.

"I went to a Halloween party tonight,"

"Mhm, that's nice honey. What did you wear?" he asked, not really caring about the answer.

"Barely anything," y/n whispered in his ear.

No reaction whatsoever came from Bruce's face, he replied with another automated answer "Great, hope you didn't get too cold,"

Y/n crossed her arms in frustration. "You should've came. To the party, I mean. If I attend another social event alone people will start to rumour your death,"

"Well, it seems like crime never ends in this city," he said, his head still stuck in the monitors.

"Yeah but marriages do," y/n mumbled.

Bruce broke out of his trance and turned to face his wife. "What?"

Y/n's expression broke into a smile. "The fact that I had to mention divorce for my husband to even make eye contact with me,"

He sighed "I'm sorry, my love. It's just, this thing," he gestures to the screen.

"Maybe I can help?" y/n asked, already knowing the answer. Bruce didn't want her involved in the whole 'Batman' thing because she worries enough about him without her knowing the amount of danger he really is in.

"C'mon, with most women, if their husband stayed out half the night and comes back with eye makeup on then he's cheating. My situation is... A little different. Just, please let me help you," she looked up at him pleadingly.

He sighed. "Alright come here," he wrapped his arms around his wife as he showed her the 'He lies still' card.

[littlejuicebox]

Highharvestide Day

(Astarion x Female Reader)

-----

This is the fluffy twin to my other mostly-smut piece An Early Highharvestide Feast. Setting: Several in-game spoiler warnings, 4 years after BG3, "good" ending, Unascended Astarion x Cleric Reader Notes: Took a break from my WrenxAstarion fic to write this Thanksgiving-themed 2-part story. I hope you all have a wonderful Thanksgiving surrounded by friends and loved ones and all the warmth and comfort of love and life. And as always, I love to see comments about what you liked in the story, it inspires me for other fics! And if you like my writing, please check out my passion project: WrenxAstarion. Rating: PG-13 Word Count: 3K

-----

You are a ball of nerves as you place the final touches on the table settings. It’s such a silly thing, you think to yourself. These people have seen you with crimson drops of blood splattered across your face and broken bones poking out of your flesh; they’ve watched you violently behead a Drow and smelled your musk after a week without a bath. And yet, here you are, meticulously straightening the cutlery, hoping to impress your merry band of misfits. Not that any of them care, and you know it, but you cannot help yourself. You want to give them the best, just like you always have.

The staff are fluttering about the dining hall, placing vases around the room according to your exacting instructions. You smile at the containers filled with blooms from your own garden, the very same arrangements you’d been working on the night prior before you were interrupted by your husband and more... strenuous activities. You’d fallen behind schedule from his distraction and had to enlist the help of the staff to finish the arrangements off earlier today, which Astarion had considered a win for his side in your ongoing fight over trying to remain humble (you) vs. taking what you deserve (him). Absently, you thought that the arrangements weren’t quite as perfect as they would have been if you’d done them yourself... but the small sacrifice had been worth it, in the end.

Astarion saunters through the heavy oak doors of your dining hall, Scratch in tow. The dog was practically your husband’s shadow, nearly glued to his thigh at all times, and as much as the vampire pretended to be annoyed, you noticed even now that his hand was absently brushing against Scratch’s ear as the pair headed toward their favorite woman in all of Faerun. He is carrying an ornately wrapped package in the crook of his arm as he meanders to your side, eyebrow cocked slightly as he examines the room. “Darling, everyone will arrive within the hour, it’s time for you to dress.”

Your eyes gloss over the tables one more time, checking for any final imperfections, before you turn to greet your husband with a kiss on his cheek. “Yes, my love… and what is that you’re holding?”

Astarion chuckles, glancing down at the bundle in his arm, feigning nonchalance. “What dear, this beautiful package? Oh… nothing, really. Just a small Highharvesthide gift for my beautiful hostess.”

He turns the package over to you with a chaste peck to your lips, and you shake your head in amusement at the rakish man. The silver-haired elf tries to hide his anticipation and anxiety by gripping softly at the scruff around Scratch’s neck, but you can feel him eyeing your face for signs of a reaction.

It’s become commonplace that Astarion brings you a present for nearly every significant occasion; spoiling you with any number of ostentatious things you wouldn't dare to purchase yourself seemed to be his love language. For your first anniversary, he’d filled the bedroom to the brim with countless rare, night blooming plants for your garden. You two had made love surrounded by a canopy of flora and the sweet aroma of flowers, and he'd asked the staff to plant all of them on the grounds the following day. It had been a beautiful gesture, and marked the start of your ongoing infatuation with your garden.

But you do know how long your husband mulls these gifts over in his head before finalizing his decision. The mere suggestion that you are not thrilled by his selection would crush Astarion's sensitive heart; he quite literally revolved his existence around you in so many ways. You are easily pleased, of course, by any gift from your spouse… but you are always sure to adamantly express the feeling to your love, less he get the wrong impression.

You place the gift on the table and unwrap it to reveal a beautiful, mulberry-colored gown. The dress is made from velvet, and the neckline drops into a sharp V. Delicate gold embroidery follows the neckline down to the center of the gown, trailing to the hem; the same pattern is echoed along the cuffs and up the sleeves of the piece. Atop the dress sits a dainty golden circlet, the metal fashioned to look like vines, tiny garnet gems positioned in a setting reminiscent of flower petals, the jewels appearing framed as the flower pistils. It’s all breathtakingly ornate, and you gasp in a mixture of surprise and delight as your fingers run along the golden thread.

“What do you think?” Astarion asks, head cocked to the side as he watches your reaction. You can sense the smidge of trepidation in his tone as he tries to hide it from you.

“It’s absolutely perfect, my love.” You turn and beam at him, watching as the subtle signs of tension ease from his jaw and eyes. “Thank you, truly. I don't think I could've envisioned a more perfect gown for tonight. I am meant to wear it tonight, aren't I, my Star?”

“Well, I was so hoping you would, my dear.” The vampire responds, all fangs and flirtations as he closes the few inches of distance between your bodies and wraps his arm around your waist, planting a smattering of featherlight kisses below your ear before whispering. “It will give me such a delectable view of your collarbone all night… and I might need the distraction when the wizard starts prattling on about Tara for the millionth time.”

You laugh and roll your eyes at your husband before grabbing his hand in yours and squeezing. “It's really a gorgeous ensemble. You've outdone yourself, once again. Now let’s go and get ready… I can hardly wait to see everyone.”

-----

You are dressed in your new gown and circlet, Astarion standing just behind you as you two ready yourselves by the front entrance. His doublet is a golden tone, highlighting the embroidered details in your own gown; his chest serving as your background. Even though it goes unsaid, you know the decision on his part was intentional; Astarion's keen vermillion eyes never miss a detail. You had sneakily designed something for your husband, which he’d been given as your both dressed. You knew full well that he’d had a gift planned for weeks and you would never dare to be the one empty-handed; he’d received a beautiful set of cufflinks in the shape of your initials, made from solid gold. The vampire fiddles with his gift as he waits, glancing down every so often to admire the gesture with a small smile and significant affection.

The Duke is the first to arrive, pulled in a horse drawn carriage with several guards and a beautiful half-elven woman by his side — his betrothed, Euphemia Gauthier. You curtsy to Wyll before he takes your hand and laughs. “Such formality from an old friend?”

He wraps you into a hug before moving to Astarion and clapping a friendly palm upon the man’s back. “I trust you two remember my beautiful flower, Euphemia?”

Euphemia smiles as you both turn to her and offer your greetings. You know her to be from old noble blood. She is undeniably graceful, well-spoken, and kind. By all accounts, she is Wyll’s perfect match. Her mega-watt smile turns in your direction, and she takes your hand in hers as she addresses you. “Lady Acunin, have you given further thought about my betrothed’s offer? As you know, Counsellor Atherwinde will be retiring next year, and my darling Wyll is growing anxious to have you take the spot.”

You feel Astarion’s eyes bore into you as a flush spreads across your cheeks. You hadn’t mentioned the offer to him, since you were still mulling it over in your own mind. It came with several obligations and the unfortunate need to step further into the public eye. There would be influence and the ability to advance so many of your political interests, sure. But was it worth the cost? The vampire's fingers gripped into your waist for just a moment, a silent signal to you that he would not be letting the matter rest.

You aim to say something, but Astarion cuts in, speaking towards the half-elf woman; the slightest pitch in his tone, however, lets you know every word is directed to you. “Lady Gauthier, I am sure my beautiful wife is giving the offer the upmost consideration. Who better to fill the position than the woman that saved us all from becoming mindflayers… I can’t think of a single soul more fit in all of Faerun. And I am certain that Duke Ravengard and Lady Ancunin would be aligned. It sounds like an excellent opportunity and one that would be quite difficult to pass up.”

Wyll is positively beaming at this response, practically taking Astarion’s words as a guarantee of acceptance. “Enough of this political talk for the evening. We will have many more nights to discuss… but for today, let’s enjoy the company of old friends.”

-----

Everyone else arrived quickly after Duke and soon-to-be Duchess Ravengard. Gale by teleportation circle, Lae’zel and Shadowheart together on horseback, Karlach carrying a barrel of cheap booze that she unceremoniously placed in the center of the dining room (to Astarion’s dismay), and Halsin on foot with a dozen children following behind him.

The event was lively and filled with an excited, jovial air. A pianist had been hired for the occasion, and the rich sounds coming from the keys mixed with the soft crackling of fireplaces added beautiful background noise to the dining room. Every sconce in the house was lit, and the various candles around the dining room, their wax colored in an array of autumnal tones, provided a beautiful, homey glow. The entire setting wrapped you and your friends in a blanket of warmth and comfort.

Night took over the manor, and the flowers inside their vases bloomed, almost as if on cue, as the food was brought about. The spectacle brought forth several compliments from your friends, lighting your heart aglow. It would have been tradition for you and your husband to sit on opposite ends of the long mahogany dining table, but you had quickly waved off that formality amongst your closest friends and instead sat on Astarion’s left. One of his hands remained clasped firmly in yours most of the night, while his other hand held a golden goblet repeatedly filled with wine. He'd dined on several chalices of animal blood earlier that day, but a plate was still placed in front of him for show. Halsin's cantankerous brood sat at another table parallel to the adults. They were creating quite a ruckus and tossing scraps at an excited Scratch, and you chuckled while thinking the beast was living possibly the best day of his life.

Karlach told of her time in Avernus, and the many efforts Dammon made to fix her engine once and for all. Astarion had helped Karlach secure another position by contract with Zariel, one where she was not actively fighting in the hells… but it still was not the perfect solution, and she was only granted a few weeks of reprieve every year. After a few more years, she would hopefully be out of the hells for good... if Dammon managed to pull through on a permanent solution so she could remain on the material plane. Something told you that Dammon was quite driven by yearning for your red friend and spent all day and all night working to turn Karlach's dream into a reality, and you prayed every day to your gods that his experiments would be a success.

Shadowheart and Lae’zel had spent much of the past four years with the cleric’s parents and traveling around the Sword Coast. The unlikely couple hinted at a possible wedding in the near future. Astarion couldn’t help but chuckle beside you at the irony of it all, a small smirk on his face as he locked eyes with you. But he held back his silver-tongue, knowing he had no right to judge, since he'd initially held a blade to the throat of his beloved.

Gale delivered a most interesting piece of information. He stated he'd pursued many tomes and scrolls and had finally come across a documented successful case of the Wish Spell not more than a month ago. He’d sought out the sorcerer named on record and found the elven man at his residence near Candlekeep. Gale did not feel he was quite prepared to perform the spell on Astarion without disastrous results, but he spoke about the sorcerer with reverence and infatuation akin to the tone he’d once taken when telling of Mystra. You didn’t press further, knowing Gale would reveal everything in his own time, but Astarion shot you a knowing glance before, somewhat surprisingly, genuinely thanking the wizard for his continued efforts and raising a glass to their continued friendship.

Halsin was proud to announce his new community was thriving. Several of the tiefling children your group had rescued were growing to be active members of the society and expanding their efforts. You were thrilled to hear that Mol had turned out to be quite the leader, and Halsin’s influence had pushed her toward benevolence. Arabella was reportedly doing quite well in her studies of the Weave, and spent her breaks with her friends. Halsin hinted at a need for further aid from the city, which both Euphemia and you implored Wyll to look into. The two of you exchanged conspiratorial glances as Wyll gave a good-natured sigh and shot a look that practically said, ‘Women, am I right?’ to a bemused Astarion from across the table. But the Duke promised Halsin with a hand to his heart that he would bring it up at the next meeting.

Astarion had spent most of the night in relative silence, apart from a chuckle or quip dotted throughout the conversation. It was clear he was happy to be in the presence of friends and listen to their exploits, and though he wasn’t particularly loquacious that evening, the soft smile that stayed plastered to his face as he drank from his goblet caused you to make a mental note to host more events within your home. He’d never acknowledge it, but his condition had the poor side effect of being a dreadfully isolating experience, and the man quite enjoyed the company of others. He claimed to need only you in his life, but you knew that was just the expression of romantic love and loyal dedication that overflowed from his heart. Perhaps it was a slant truth that he wanted to believe, despite your knowledge and understanding otherwise.

When people began their departures, everyone was fully sated and thoroughly drunk. Lae’zel and Shadowheart were the first to bid their farewells to the others and stumble drunkenly to your guest chambers. As you watched them walk away, you were all but certain they were about to commit some deplorable actions between the silken sheets you’d put out for them. Your suspicions were confirmed to be correct when the rest of you heard someone bang into the wall with a moan before several giggles and loud shushing gravitated down the hall.

Karlach heaved a heavy sigh as she stood, knowing full well that her guest room was located right next door to the couple's and lamenting the fact that she would have to listen to their incessant lovemaking all night. She had plans to go visit Dammon in the morning, and turned in shortly after Lae'zel and Shadowheart. She took her time hugging everyone around the room and placing a sloppy kiss on Astarion's cheek, intentionally and effectively ruffling his feathers. You'd always felt that, apart from you, Karlach had been the vampire's favorite campmate. The instinct was always reaffirmed every time Astarion allowed Karlach to smother him with affection and, although he acted annoyed, he always let a smile reach his eyes for a moment before slipping the perturbed mask back into place.

Wyll and Euphemia made you promise them to give an answer by the start of the New Year and you reluctantly agreed to the terms as the Duke helped his betroathed into the carriage and bid you both farewell with plans for dinner at his home in a few weeks time.

You’d become quite enamored with a sweet girl named Winifred that had joined Halsin, white wildflowers adorning her red hair. She was not but ten and already showed significant talent for healing spells, as displayed when a tiefling child pulled out a loose tooth at the children's table and began bleeding quite profusely. She gave you a hug as you bid your goodbyes to all the younglings, and you promised Halsin you would stop by within the next few weeks to show her a few more spells. He thanked you both and then called to the children, all of them following obediently behind the druid like a gaggle of ducklings behind their mother.

Gale was the last to depart, opening another portal as he turned to the two of you. “I will keep you both abreast of my progress. Watch for my scrolls. And please come to Candlekeep soon… I would like to introduce you to both to Tharren; he’s eager to meet the vampire I’m hoping to aid and our famed heroes of Baldur’s Gate.”

The wizard presses a platonic kiss to your cheek and wraps Astarion into a hug, the vampire reacting to the embrace like a cat responds to being held by their least favorite family member - stiff, awkward, but otherwise accepting. Your love even relents toward the end of the embrace and wraps his arm around Gale in response, for the first time ever, before the wizard steps away. Gale’s eyes flit between you both as he waves and disappears in a flash of blue light.

You stare at the spot where the portal just dissipated, a slight drop in your chest as you take in the absence of your friends. There is a soft moment of silence that you sit in with your husband, the first moment of quiet all night. Astarion pulls you toward him as a breeze runs across the lawn before he places a kiss in your hair. He murmurs into your ear before pressing another kiss along your cheek. “My darling, I will let you have your night… but tomorrow we will discuss Wyll’s offer, yes?”

You nod and hum in agreement, knowing you cannot outrun the conversation forever. But for tonight, all you desire is to bask in the afterglow of beautiful memories and the warmth of your husband's love. The silver-haired elf spins you and places soft kisses along your collarbone, which he’d been pointedly admiring by almost vulgarly running his eyes along your chest at every opportunity. He trails up to your neck, resting his lips for a moment on that familiar spot at the crook of it before snaking his tongue out to subtly trace over the faintly raised puncture marks.

“Now, my sweet, let’s head to our bed chambers. I’d quite like my dessert. I’ve been staring at that darling neck of yours all night and it’s taken almost all of my control to not splay you out on the dining table and take you in front of our closest friends… though I do think a fair few of them would’ve enjoyed the show. If not for the children, who knows what I might’ve done?”

The flush in your face rises, aided by the heavy amounts of wine and brandy you’d consumed that evening. Astarion makes his way up to your lips and delves his tongue into your mouth, soft at first, but with growing intensity as the kiss lengthens. Before long, your legs are wrapped around the vampire as he carries you to your bedroom, fully intent on making love to you until the sun rises and eternally thankful for his little treasure that the gods placed in his path when he least expected it.

[mochie85]

CONGRATS ON A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS! Well earned! :D

Here's a song ask, hope it inspires you! Lets Get Lost by Bat for Lashes https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_bMpBY_xGcA

Let's Get Lost

1k Celebration Masterlist One-Shot Masterlist Complete Masterlist

Summary: Loki helps you find something new to be passionate about. Pairing: Loki x Female Reader Word Count: 1.9k Warnings: fluff, angst, one-night stand, P in V twice 😮😏 A/N: Part of my 1k Celebration, sorry this took so long my dear, @ijuststareatstuffhereok89. Thank you for the request 🥰 Also based on this song from Beck & Bat for Lashes

The wind was blowing wild from the seventieth-floor balcony where you hid. The smoke from your cigarette wafted off as soon as you exhaled it. The night air stung your open wounds. You’re pretty sure you were bruised all over the top half of your body. You should have gone to the med bay as soon as the jet landed.

The combat suit you still had on was torn from the shoulder blade down to your elbow. But it didn’t matter. You would get it replaced. There was always a replacement. A sense of repetitiveness washed over you that got mind-numbing.

Fight. Get hurt. Repeat.

Fight. Get hurt. Repeat.

Sometimes you’d win. Other times you’d lose. But there was always another suit. For another fight. Nothing changed.

The slider door clicked and opened. “There you are.” His voice was muted, but gravelly. A sense of boredom crept into his tone. Maybe he felt it too? The monotony.

He sat down next to you on the vacant patio chaise. He crossed his legs as he leaned back and placed his hands behind his head, sighing with mild content.

“What is it, Loki?”

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m golden,” you said sarcastically. Loki huffed a low chuckle. A comfortable silence spread between the two of you. You closed your eyes, listening to him breathe as you tried to take stock of the sores and bruises on your body.

“Do you ever get sick of it?” his low voice sharp against your ear. “The day-to-day saving of humanity. The endless struggle to care and not let the bad guys win. Just let them demolish the whole planet,” he said waving his hands in the air.

“At least it’ll be different,” you chuckled. You didn’t know why you found that amusing. You rolled your eyes as you offered him your cigarette.

“Precisely,” Loki said, taking it off your fingers and giving it a puff of his own. His smoke was thicker and denser.  Swirls formed in an intricate dance in the air. “When you joined, did you think it was going to be like this?” he asked you.

You sighed with apathy, “Honestly? Yeah, I guess. Travel the world. Meet new people. Save the galaxy. But I never thought it would lose its luster for me. Am I a bad person for thinking that?”

“No. It just means you have cravings. Passion. A symptom of having a soul.” Loki said with the cigarette still on his lips.

“So what do you do? How do you fix it?”

“Coming from a being who’s lived over a thousand years, you find something new to do,” he said flicking the ash on the tray and then handing you back your cigarette. “Find it. Get lost in it. Until you find something new again.”

You took it gingerly and placed it in your mouth. You took one last hit as you stood up and exhaled. You looked out into the skyline. Millions of people living their lives, and you wonder if any of them have found a passion worth holding onto. A passion worth getting lost in. You turned around to face Loki, only to find that he’s been watching you this entire time.

You snuffed out the cigarette on the tray and slowly straddled him on his chair. His eyebrows piqued as his smirk grew wider. “Well, this is new.”

“Just for tonight…” you whispered leaning closer to him.

“…darling…” he said to your lips.

“…let’s get lost.” You closed the gap between your lips and kissed him deeply. He sucked on your bottom lip, moaning as you ground into him. The unexpected turn of events had him hard within seconds. His hands found your waist and slowly traveled their way down to the curve of your hips. He pulled you closer to him making you widen your thighs.

He bent his knees, trapping you in your seat. You arched your back, rolling your head slightly, and rested on his thighs. Loki had the perfect view of you. His hands roamed up your torso, cupping your breast and snaking them around your neck- pulling you back to his hungry kiss. His fingers trace the exposed part of your skin. From your graceful neck, down to the valley of your breast. You savored it, whining when he took his touch away.

His cool fingers pulled the zipper of your suit down uncovering the bruises you were hiding underneath. He delicately peeled off the top half of your suit, leaving you bare. “I’ll be gent-”

“No!” you interrupted him. “I want to feel it. I want to feel everything.”

“Everything?” he asked as he traced your lips with his fingers. He pulled you closer, devouring your lips again.

“Everything,” you moaned.

“How exactly do you want to feel, kitten? Do you want to feel strong? Powerful?” Loki guessed since you were the one who initiated the tryst. His grip on your hair got tighter keeping your face flushed with his.

“Or do you want to surrender? Do you want to feel submissive? Degraded? Begging for your release on top of my hard cock?” Loki ripped the rest of your suit, leaving you exposed in your underwear. Your body was weak and shivering from the fight earlier that night. Now, you shook from the craving you were experiencing. The passion you were getting lost in. “Faen,” he murmured faintly under his breath, as his eyes drank you in.

Your hands crept down onto the buckle of his pants and freed him. He felt hot and needy as you squeezed. Looking down, he was more than you expected. Red-hot at the tip and thicker by the base. He smirked upon seeing your eyes widen. He whimpered in your hand as you stroked him hard and thick. “Ride me,” he moaned. “Fuck me,” he said short of begging.

He traced the inseam of your panties and pulled it to the side. You placed his dripping tip at the entrance of your wet heat and teased him. You ran him up and down your folds, savoring the flick toward your clit at the end.

“You tease,” he huffed as he thrust himself upward into your waiting cunt, surprising you and making you yelp. You fell forward onto him, and he captured your lips in between his teeth. He was obsessed with your kiss. Obsessed with how your soft lips molded to his.

You felt him stretch you. The sudden uptilt made you ache and squeeze around him. He savored the sensation as he hung his head back, moaning. His jaw tightened and he huffed.

“…Loki…” you moaned.

“Now, sit!” He commanded as he looked straight into your eyes and pulled you down all the way to his hilt.

You were left speechless- gasping for air as the sudden intrusion onto your tight walls filled you. You had almost forgotten who you were dealing with. Loki’s brief demonstration of strength reminded you of how much stronger he is. How much he could manipulate your body and bend it to his will.

He started to push you off and then slam you back down on his hard length. “You’re… squeezingme… ohsotight… kitten,” he managed to say in between thrusts and his heavy breathing. His deep voice resonated in your body.

You wanted more. You needed more. He felt so good thrusting inside you. Each drive sends a tingling sensation throughout your nerves. You felt weightless and out of breath. Every thought, every feeling, every breath came together and centered where you and he collided.

“That’s it, kitten…don’t stop…fu-…don’t stop…” Your hips took over, using his shoulders as leverage, and grinding against him. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed against your inner thighs. You welcomed the burn as it only added to the fire, the yearning to be good for him.

Loki pulled your body flushed with his and wrapped his arms tight around you. He placed your taut nipple into his mouth, running his tongue in circles, flicking them, and sucking them hard in between his lips.

The sensation made you roll your head back and scream out your orgasm.

He pumped his hips upward a few more times before he held you still on his throbbing cock. You could feel him pulse inside you. He growled his release with your nipple still in his teeth. His spent dripped down your sides as his cock tapped your sensitive nub with every thud.

Your lungs were on fire. Your throat burned from your gasping screams. Distracted by the sweet pain in your chest, Loki managed to turn both of you sideways, his chest to your back. “One of the many things you’ll learn about laying with a god is that I’m not so easily satisfied,” he said as he lifted your leg behind you, over his hips, and sank into you once again.

The moan you let out was unnatural and goddamn sexy to Loki. He held up your leg as he slammed into your wet folds over and over, hoping to make you moan like that again.

You held on to the side of the chaise. His groans of pleasure were ripe in your ear. He slipped his other hand under you, capturing one of your breasts. He tweaked your pebbled nipple, pinching and pulling it hard, making you whimper.

“Is that what you like, kitten?” he growled licking the shell of your ear.

“Please, Loki. Please don’tstop... don’tstop… don’t stop.” The wave of desire coiled inside you once again.

“I won’t, sweetness. Just moan for me one more time.” He commanded. And you obeyed. With one last thrust and pinch, you came again.

You could hear his heavy panting as his sweet breath fanned your face. You could feel the frantic beating of his heart on your back as he held you still once more against him. He squeezed your body in his vice-like grip, spilling his seed, as his mouth sought yours once more.

“Fuck,” you keened into his waiting lips. His stuttered cry of pleasure was all you could hear as he turned you around to face him.

You didn’t know how long it took you to calm down from your bliss. His fingers traced your bare back, up and down, following the curve of your spine. You huddled closer to him in the chaise lounge, holding your arms close to your body for warmth. He held you tighter, his arms snaking around your hips. While his caressing hand clasped your head steadily to claim your lips once more.

“I should go,” you mumbled into his lips.

“Why?” he asked, invading your mouth with his tongue.

“They’ll be wondering where I am. Where you are.”

“Let them wonder,” he said kissing you fiercely, hoping to change your mind.

“Mmm…I have to go” you said smiling. “Do you mind?” you asked holding up your torn suit. Loki rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers, weaving together the stitches around your delicate body. Even so much as fixing the rip on your arm from the battle earlier.

Would this be an isolated incident, he wondered as he watched you zipper your suit up. All the monotony of day-to-day life and this was the first time he felt something worthy of his time. He was fascinated by you. It was why he sought you out earlier, how he came to be by your side tonight. After tasting your sweet kiss, he didn’t think he could let it go.

“Thank you,” you whispered, kissing him again on his soft lips. The intimate way you thanked him gave him hope. “Let’s get lost again, soon.”

“Same time tomorrow?” he proposed. You bit down on your lip and smiled as you got up and walked away, leaving him smiling with contentment. He had found his passion.

🏷️ @emarich7 @michelleleewise @coldnique @vickie5446 @psychospore @mukagentropy @lokisgoodgirl @silverfire475 @fictive-sl0th @springdandelixn @wheredafandomat @goldencherriess @peaches1958 @salempoe @thomase1 @kkdvkyya @a-witch-with-words @mischief2sarawr @sarawr-reads @vbecker10 @peachymallows @irishhappiness @cakesandtom @simplyholl @here4thefanfics @tallseaweed @immersed-in-mischief @lokisninerealms @kikster606 @glitterylokislut @loz-3 @slytherclaw1227 @chantsdemarins @the-lady-amphitrite @eleniblue @km-ffluv @lokidokieokie @n3rdybirdee @melsunshine

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

To Play Hide And Seek With Jealousy

Pairing: Yandere!Loki x Reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Stalking, murder, general psycho yandere behavior???

Genre: it's dark it's kinda angst technically

Summary: you have a stalker, what happens when you can't take the anxiety anymore // inspired by: To Play Hide and Seek With Jealousy by Famous Last Words

***

The first time he saw you was at work. It was late and the library you work in was just about to close when he happened to catch a glimpse of you through the window. You'd been resting your chin in your hand, reading a book. He stared for quite some time from across the street, watching you close up. He even followed you a few blocks, not all the way to your apartment, but far enough to be reprimanded if anyone found out. You didn't see him, didn't even know for sure there was anyone around but you felt it. A strange inclination that something was amiss. It went on for weeks. You'd feel just the vaguest sense of unease sometimes. When leaving work, or going to work, lunch with friends, even running errands became stressful. You were always looking over your shoulder and your dear boyfriend, he tried everything to calm you down. Started walking you to and from work, or at least calling you when he couldn't, installing extra locks on your apartment door, anything he could do to ease your anxieties he did. It helped, slightly, but even now you still get that odd chill at the back of your neck sometimes. 

Unfortunately these days it's usually accompanied by flashes of green and gold. You know for a fact someone is following you, the piercing pair of eyes you often catch peering from the shadows while you're working is enough proof for you. You'd thought you imagined those eyes at first, a side effect of your growing paranoia, but you've seen them too many times, taken pictures, in fact, today you'd be able to draw them how regularly you see them during your late nights at the library. And working day shifts doesn't help, no, those eyes still peek at you from the shadows of the nearby high rises and at this point, you only wish they would do something.

It's exhausting, the constant unease, looking over your shoulder for glints of gold, or glimpses of green, or that pair of eyes. You've barely been able to sleep most nights, even with your boyfriend around literally all the time to try to dispel your nerves.

Your boyfriend. A problem. He already didn't know how to approach you but worse was that- pathetic mortal you kept around. You could do so much better than him, deserved so much better than him, and if he could just get your boyfriend out of the picture he knows he could give that to you. And getting your boyfriend out of the picture is exactly what he plans to do. First anyway.

He's not mean with it. Although he could be. He sees no reason to prolong the torture. It won't win him points or anything. One night, before your boyfriend can pick you up at work he grabs him. So quick the boyfriend can't even scream before he's in a cabin in the woods.

"I appreciate you taking care of her for me, but you can't keep her anymore, and with you around she'll never have me. So you have to go." He tells your boyfriend calmly.

"Y-you're the one who's been stalking my girlfriend?"

"Stalking is a- dreadful way to put it. I suppose it doesn't matter though seeing as I'm about to kill you. Don't worry I'll be quick. I have to get back before y/n gets off of work." A dagger appears in his hand and your boyfriend's eyes widen. He lets out a yell as the blade is plunged through his heart. Luckily they're far away enough from the city that no one will hear him out here. A few moments of pained groans later, your boyfriend slumps over in the chair and he knows the job is done. He waves a hand and magic disposes of the body, cleans his clothes and returns him to his hiding spot to watch you for the remainder of your shift. He even sends a text on your boyfriend's behalf apologizing that he will not be able to get you after all. Step one complete.

When your shift ends you're so nervous about walking alone by yourself that you call a friend to keep you calm. The feeling that you're being watched doesn't go away but you can ignore it slightly while on the phone. In your apartment, you're even more unsettled to realize your boyfriend isn't here. He's always here. Sure he still has his own place but the last few weeks he's hardly left yours because of your concerns. Something is wrong. You feel it in your bones but what can you do exactly?

It's pure coincidence, the video you see the next day on social media, those same eyes you see in the shadows all the time now on your phone, attached to a face, with a name. Loki. You wouldn't be so quick to say so definitively if those eyes were not burned into your memory and if not for the green and gold that seems to be his signature. There's something comforting about having a name and face to the ominous shadow you've... accrued. It doesn't completely eliminate the fear you feel leaving your apartment but it definitely lessens it even if only slightly.

A week. Another week goes by before you resolve you can't let this go on any longer. It's a bit impulsive, you're walking home from work, and after the sound of a window closing makes you jump you decide right then that you have absolutely had enough. You stop in your tracks and turn around angrily. You can't see him but you know he's there somewhere.

"LOKI! I am so over this shit and I know you can hear me so whatever fucking game you're playing it's over! Either show yourself now and tell me what you want or leave me the fuck alone!" You're only glad it's late so no one's around to see you shouting at the air. Moments later Loki materializes in front of you and you steel your nerves, not letting your anger waver.

"Bold choice, threatening a god." He says with a smirk.

"Bold?! I am tired and angry and sick of always looking over my shoulder because the god of mischief ain't got shit else to do. Are you that bored? Can't you find a better use of your damn time than following me around like fucking a psycho?! You are driving me crazy! I'm not bold I am just tired of your games. I'll threaten you all I want, I haven't been able to let my guard down for months!" You snap.

"I don't see why, I've only been protecting you." Loki shrugs.

"Protecting me?! You're out of your mind! You're a stalker! The only thing I need protecting from is you!" You scoff.

"There's that unpleasant word again." He kisses his teeth.

"What do you want from me Loki?" You sigh.

"I love you y/n. I want only to cherish you as you deserve." He says calmly. Your eyes widen as you consider something.

"Have you- have you done something to Andrew?" You ask. You knew the text about a family emergency was suspicious but you had no reason to suspect something was amiss until this moment.

"It's best you don't ask me about that." He says.

"What?"

"Ignorance is your friend. If your Andrew has disappeared, you cannot be implicated as long as you do not know anything about the alleged disappearance. I cannot lie to you though, if you ask me I will tell you the truth, but it puts you at risk. To know. And I do not wish to do that. I will never wish to even potentially harm you." Loki's words send a chill down your spine. Though he hasn't told you what he's done you know in your heart that Andrew will not be coming back to you. Ever.

"H-how could you do this?" You can feel tears sting your eyes.

"I did it for you. You would regret spending your life with him, I know you would, he didn't deserve you and I will not let anything come between us."

"Loki there is no us. I do not know you, I do not love you. And you took my Andrew." You shake your head.

"No you see- I've done us both a favor. Now you can love me. You will, we have all the time in the world." Loki says with a smile on his face so unsettling you have to force yourself not to shiver at the sight, though you do take a step back.

"You're not listening-"

"No, you aren't listening. We're meant to be y/n. I'm sure of it and you will be too. Soon." Loki grabs your arm and in a blink, you're both gone.

***

[ranchthoughts]

The GMMTV Kissing Multiverse, an Update

EDITED: Hey everyone - update posted here! Follow along with all updates at the tag here

Hello everyone! Thank you all for your help with the GMMTV Kissing Multiverse project so far. I thought I would give an update.

The first draft is here.

Rules

Must be lip to lip contact

Must be shown on screen in a GMMTV tv series (no kisses from ads, promotional content, etc.)

Poll Update

I enlisted all of your help deciding if the WaiKorn sorta kiss from the Bad Buddy x ATOTS Our Skyy 2 episodes actually involved lip touching and if the HeartLiMing kiss from Moonlight Chicken should be included.

The results are in: you voted that Jimmy and Drake's lips do NOT touch, therefore their kiss will be NOT be counted in this project. The HeartLiMing poll resulted in an exact tie (!!!) so I am here to be the tie breaker - upon careful review, if we don't see the lips touch, the kiss doesn't count (I think that will be easier for decision-making in the long run). Therefore, the HeartLiMing kiss will NOT be counted in this project. Thanks everyone for participating!

Breakdown by Show

So far, I have looked at 47 individual shows (in brackets is the short-form I've been using):

A Boss and a Babe (ABAAB): Book/Force, Fluke Pusit/Ohm Thipakorn

An Eye for an Eye (AEDAE): Dao Phimthong/Ohm

A Tale of a Thousand Stars (ATOTS): Earth/Mix

Bad Buddy (BB): Nanon/Ohm

Be My Favourite (BMF): Gawin/Krist

'Cause You're My Boy (CYMB): Drake/Frank

Cupid's Last Wish (CLW): Earth/Mix

Dark Blue Kiss (DBK): New/Tay, Gawin/Pod

Dirty Laundry (DL): Film/Nanon

Double Savage (DS): Film/Ohm, Film/Perth

Enchante: Book/Force

Enigma: Prim/Namtan, Prim/Win

F4: Bright/Tu

Friendzone: AJ/Plustor, Nat/Singto, Plustor/Singto, Aye/Apple

Fish Upon the Sky (FUTS): Phuwin/Pond, Louis/Neo

He's Coming to Me (HCTM): Ohm/Singto, Ohm/Gigie

Hidden Agenda (HA): Dunk/Joong

Mama Gogo (MMGG): Drake/Ciize, Joss/Gigie, Lee/Cris

Midnight Museum (MM): Bright/Pat Chayani, Nanon/View

Moonlight Chicken (MLC): Earth/Mix, Earth/Papang, First/Mix

My Dear Loser (MDL): Namtan/Sing

My School President (MSP): Fourth/Gemini, Satang/Winny

Never Let Me Go (NLMG): Chimon/Phuwin, Phuwin/Pond

Not Me (NM): Film/Gun, Film/Mond, First/Gawin, Gun/Off

Only Friends (OF): so far... Drake/Neo, Neo/Mark Pakin, Book/Force [only counting the ones we have seen so far - so this is going to change!!]

P.S. I Hate You (PS IHY): Guy Sivakorn/Papang, Jan/Lee, Jan/Pearwah

Star in my Mind (SIMM): Dunk/Joong, Dunk/Pepper

Sky in your Heart (SIYH): Mek/Mark Jiruntanin

Slam Dunk: Drake/Sing

SOTUS: Krist/Singto

The Eclipse (Eclipse): First/Khaotung, Louis/Neo

The Gifted (Gifted): Namtan/Lee

The Jungle (Jungle): Krist/Lee, Krist/Lookjun, Lee/Mook, Lookjun/Off, Mild/Nanon, Nanon/Punpun

The Player (Player): Chimon/Namtan

The Shipper (Shipper): First/Ohm, First/Prigkhing

Theory of Love (TOL): Gun/Off, Gun/Boom, Nok/Off

Turn Left Turn Right (TLTR): Nanon/Puimek

Tonhon Chonlatee (Tonhon): Khaotung/Pod

UMG: Nanon/Namtam

Vice Versa (VV): Jimmy/Sea

Warp Effect (Warp): Ciize/Sing, Fluke Pusit/Gigie, Fluke Pusit/Thor, Gigie/Guy Sivakorn, Jan/Silvy, Mark Pakin/Best, New/Fah, New/Fluke Pusit, New/Gigie, New/Silvy

Waterboyy: Earth/New

2gether: Bright/Win

Still 2gether: Bright/Win, Mike/Toptap

3 Will Be Free (3WBF): Joss/Tay, Joss/Mild, Mild/Tay

55:15 Never Too Late (55:15): Arm/View, Khaotung/Pawin

10 Year Ticket (10 YT): Ohm/Tu

Breakdown by actor

I currently have 66 actors whose kisses I have recorded (a moment of thought for Aou, Gunsmile, and White who are listed on my spreadsheet but don't actually have any kisses listed yet).

Men

AJ: Plustor (Friendzone)

Arm: View (55:15)

Book: Force (ABAAB, Enchante, OF)

Bright: Tu (F4), Pat Chayani (MM), Win (2gether)

Chimon: Phuwin (NLMG), Namtan (Player)

Drake: Frank (CYMB), Ciize (MMGG), Neo (OF)

Dunk: Joong (HA, SIMM), Pepper (SIMM)

Earth: Mix (ATOTS, CLW, MLC), Papang (MLC), New (Waterboyy)

First: Mix (MLC), Gawin (NM), Khaotung (Eclipse), Ohm (Shipper), Prigkhing (Shipper)

Fluke Gawin: Krist (BMF), Pod (DBK), First (NM)

Fluke Pusit: Ohm Thipakorn (ABAAB), Thor (Warp), Gigie (Warp), New (Warp)

Force: Book (ABAAB, Enchante, OF)

Fourth: Gemini (MSP)

Gemini: Fourth (MSP)

Gun: Film (NM), Off (NM, TOL), Boom (TOL)

Guy Sivakorn: Papang (P.S. IHY), Gigie (Warp)

Jimmy: Sea (VV)

Joong: Dunk (HA, SIMM)

Joss: Gigie (MMGG), Mild (3WBF), Tay (3WBF)

Khaotung: First (Eclipse), Pod (Tonhon), Pawin (55:15)

Krist: Gawin (BMF), Singto (SOTUS), Lee (Jungle), Lookjun (Jungle)

Lee: Cris (MMGG), Jan (P.S. IHY), Namtan (Gifted), Krist (Jungle), Mook (Jungle)

Louis: Neo (FUTS, Eclipse)

Mark Pakin: Neo (OF), Best (Warp)

Mark Jiruntanin: Mek (SIYH)

Mek: Mark Jiruntanin (SIYH)

Mike: Toptap (2gether)

Mix: Earth (ATOTS, CLW, MLC), First (MLC)

Nanon: Ohm (BB), Film (DL), View (MM), Mild (Jungle), Punpun (Jungle), Puimek (TLTR), Namtan (UMG)

Neo: Louis (FUTS, Eclipse), Drake (OF), Mark Pakin (OF)

New: Tay (DBK), Fah (Warp), Fluke Pusit (Warp), Gigie (Warp), Silvy (Warp)

Off: Gun (NM, TOL), Lookjun (Jungle), Nok (TOL)

Ohm Thipakorn: Fluke Pusit (ABAAB)

Ohm: Dao Phimthong (AEFAE), Nanon (BB), Film (DS), Singto (HCTM), Gigie (HCTM), First (Shipper), Tu (10 YT)

Papang: Earth (MLC), Guy Sivakorn (P.S. IHY)

Pawin: Khaotung (55:15)

Pepper: Dunk (SIMM)

Phuwin: Pond (FUTS, NLMG), Chimon (NLMG)

Pod: Gawin (DBK), Khaotung (Tonhon)

Pond: Phuwin (FUTS, NLMG)

Satang: Winny (MSP)

Sea: Jimmy (VV)

Sing: Namtan (MDL), Drake (Slam Dunk), Ciize (Warp)

Singto: Nat (Friendzone), Plustor (Friendzone), Ohm (HCTM), Krist (SOTUS)

Tay: New (DBK), Joss (3WBF), Mild (3WBF)

Thor: Fluke Pusit (Warp)

Toptap: Mike (2gether)

Win: Prim (Enigma), Bright (2gether)

Winny: Satang (MSP)

Women

Aye: Apple (Friendzone)

Best: Mark Pakin (Warp)

Ciize: Drake (MMGG), Sing (Warp)

Cris: Lee (MMGG)

Fah: New (Warp)

Film: Nanon (DL), Ohm (DS), Perth (DS), Gun (NM), Mond (NM)

Gigie: Ohm (HCTM), Joss (MMGG), Fluke Pusit (Warp), Guy Sivakorn (Warp), New (Warp)

Jan: Lee (P.S. IHY), Pearwah (P.S. IHY), Silvy (Warp)

Lookjun: Off (Jungle), Krist (Jungle)

Mild: Nanon (Jungle), Joss (3WBF), Tay (3WBF)

Mook: Lee (Jungle)

Namtan: Prim (Enigma), Sing (MDL), Lee (Gifted), Chimon (Player), Nanon (UMG)

Prigkhing: First (Shipper)

Prim: Namtan (Enigma), Win (Enigma)

Silvy: Jan (Warp), New (Warp)

Tu: Bright (F4), Ohm (10 YT)

View: Nanon (MM), Arm (55:15)

Figures and Discussion Section

Our leaders as of now for "most different pairs kissing in one show" are:

Warp Effect (10 pairs)

The Jungle (5 pairs)

Friendzone and Not Me (4 pairs)

Only Friends (3 pairs [so far 👀])

Mama Gogo, Moonlight Chicken, P.S. I Hate You, and 3 Will Be Free (3 pairs)

2. Jojo has an... outsized impact on the number of kissing pairs. He directed 5 of the top 9 shows with the most different kissing pairs - and roughly 17% of all the shows analyzed - but his shows contain about 30% of kisses present in the data set (note: I am just looking at kissing pair iterations here not at unique kissing pairs, e.g., Phuwin/Pond are a pair in two shows (once in a Jojo show and once in a non-Jojo show), so they are counted twice. Otherwise I would have to think about in what show/under which director a kissing pair first originated, how many different shows/directors they've kissed under... this section is mostly a quick exercise in showing how Jojo has a lot of different kissers in his shows so I'm not trying to be that statistically accurate.)

The median number of "different kissing pairs per show" of a Jojo show is 3.38, compared to a median of only 1.69 "different kissing pairs per show" in non-Jojo shows.

3. There were more same gender kissing pairs than mixed gender kissing pairs, though not by much. This may also reflect the data set used (I know I am more familiar with QLs than het GMMTV shows)

4. Our leaders for actors with the "most kissing partners" so far are:

Nanon (7 people)

Ohm (6 people)

First, Lee, New, Film, Gigie, and Namtan (5 people each)

Krist, and Fluke Pusit (4 people)

Bright, Drake, Earth, Fluke Gawin, Gun, Joss, Khaotung, Neo, Off, Sing, Tay, Jan, and Mild (3 people each)

Bonus! Which of the GMMTV boys has kissed the most men?

First and Singto are tied for the win (4 each)

Then Earth, Fluke Gawin, Khaotung, Krist, Neo, and Ohm (3 each)

Then Drake, Dunk, Fluke Pusit, Gun, Mix, New, Papang, Phuwin, and Tay (2 each)

Thanks to all those who contributed!!: @airenyah, @alsoran, @bengiyo, @burnmyself, @catboykacchan, @catsundmaus, @chickenstrangers, @crowie, @dribs-and-drabbles, @jeonghanurl, @kpinhiding, @lurkingshan, @maibpenrai, @nieves-de-sugui, @non-binarypal7, @sollucets, @userneos, @tiistirtipii, @waitmyturtles, @williamrikers, @zeesqueere

and @blmpff asked to be tagged in updates!

[whitedarkmoonflower]

Kidnapped Part 2

Sihtric x reader

Authors note: it is the second part of the requested fic about Sihtric’s wife being kidnapped by Heasten while expecting a child. It is obvious that another part will have to follow. I am sorry, I got side-tracked and I still have no clue how Sihtric will get his family back. I hope you will enjoy this interlude.

Warnings: nothing serious, some fluff, mention of slitting someone's throat, childbirth, without going into detail

Word Count: 2,566

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

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

“He said what?” Uhtred’s voice resonated with anger and anxiety as he paced around the room. "Are you absolutely certain this is your wife's necklace?" he inquired.

“It is, Lord. What should we do, Lord?" Sihtric stood near the doors, his arms awkwardly hanging at his sides as if uncertain of what to do with them, his gaze fixed on Uhtred. Finan and Osferth sat opposite each other at the table in the middle of the room, exchanging worried glances.

Sihtric had roused them in the dead of night, practically shaking them out of their slumber, and recounted his encounter with the messenger from Heasten. Once he had informed his friends, they promptly awakened Uhtred.

"Lord, if we join Edward’s army, I will never see my wife and child again. That's what he said," Sihtric's voice trembled as he repeated the dreadful message. An unspoken plea filled his eyes as he looked at his Lord and friend.

"Sihtric," Uhtred approached him and placed his hands on his shoulders, "we will find a way to rescue them. You have my word. Do you hear me? I promise you, I will not let any harm come to your family.”

"But we are still going into battle!" Sihtric's voice was hoarse, laced with despair. How could it be that Uhtred did not understand how impossible this was? Uhtred had lost Gisela; he was supposed to know the agony of having one's heart torn from the chest, the entire world shattered at ones feet. There was a simple solution to prevent the same fate for Sihtric – to let Edward fight his damn battle alone. Alfred was dead, and there was no oath binding Uhtred to the new king.

Uhtred had heard the agony in Sihtric’s voice and gazed into the mismatched eyes of his friend, his brother in arms, as he kept his hands on his shoulders. He still remembered how he felt when Hild had told him about Gisela. In that moment, he would have done anything, everything to make it unhappen. He understood Sihtric's feelings all too well. Leaving Edward to his fate and avoiding the battle would be the easy way out, but what would happen afterward? The chances of Edward winning the battle alone were slim. Cnut would likely win, and Wessex would fall to the Danes. Would that ensure Heasten returned Sihtric's wife safely and unharmed? Or would it turn her into an unnecessary burden, making her vulnerable to being sold into slavery, if it hadn't happened already?

Uhtred withdrew his hands from Sihtric’s shoulders and unsheathed his short sword, the Wasp-Sting. Sihtric, Finan and Osferth gazed at him, their eyes wide with surprise.

“Sihtric, my friend, you know I trust you with my life,” Uhtred continued, pressing the hilt of the Wasp-Sting in Sihtric’s slightly trembling hand, “If you doubt for a moment that your family is as dear to me as it is to you, if you question my commitment that I will do everything in my power to help you rescue them and bring them back home unharmed, you can cut my throat here and now, and I will not resist.”

Bafflement filled Sihtric's eyes as he looked at the sword in his hand and then back at his Lord. The tension between them was palpable, thick enough to cut with a knife. Without uttering a single word, Sihtric shook his head and returned the sword to Uhtred's grasp. He didn't doubt Uhtred's words. How could he? They were brothers bound until death and beyond. He would die for his Lord, and he knew Uhtred would do the same for him, for each and every one of his men, without hesitation. It was their unwavering trust, loyalty, and friendship that made them a formidable force—the wolf pack of Bebbanburg.  

“We will find them, and we will do it together. And, yes, we will go into battle, but only after your family will be safe,” Uhtred’s voice exuded firmness and confidence, without the slightest hint of doubt.  

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

Life in Heasten's camp was not as harsh as you had imagined. You were left to your own devices, as it was evident that you were not in a state of daring an escape. The camp housed numerous women, as many Danes who joined Cnut and Heasten had brought their wives and children, hoping to settle in the newly conquered lands. To your great surprise, you discovered that it was not uncommon for Danish women to fight alongside their men. The legendary tales of fierce warrior women, known as shieldmaidens, had been mere stories to you, but now you witnessed them firsthand. These women wore armour and carried weapons, training and sparring on equal footing with the men. At times, you found yourself envious of their freedom, unburdened by the strict rules and prohibitions that governed the lives of Christian women. Over the course of two months spent in the camp, you even forged friendships with some of these women, as you spoke a bit Danish, having learned it from Sihtric and Gisela.

The Danes proved to be a cheerful folk. They loved good food and ale, revelling in singing and feasting. Even if some of their customs seemed strange to you, they were far from the cruel beasts eating their new-born children as some Saxon priests were portraying them. Of course, there were some cruel and ruthless specimen among them and Heasten was a good example of those, but you knew all too well that this was not a characteristic of all Danes or heathens. You had encountered enough vicious and ruthless Christian men in your life. In general, the Danes appeared to relish life with an unseen passion, living with a profound intensity and attentiveness to their surroundings that you had rarely experienced before. Slowly, you began to understand why Uhtred liked them so much, and you couldn't deny that you, too, had grown fond of them. Perhaps that was also why, despite being a Christian yourself, you had fallen in love with a Dane. Memories of the first time you met your husband remained vividly etched in your mind.

Sihtric had always been different—distinct from the men you had known in your life. He was the first not to judge you for your past, the first to truly see you as a person and not merely as a toy or object meant to please and obey. It was not a secret that you had been a whore when you first met. Uhtred and his men had arrived in Winchester straight after a victorious battle and while Uhtred was bringing the good news to the king, his men, filled with adrenaline and elation to have survived the battle, celebrated their triumph in the tavern.  They boasted with silver and demanded ale to drink on their victory and the ladies of the house instantly sensing the opportunity, crowded them trying to catch their attention. However, you were not into it, not this evening. You had been so tired and disgusted by this life, that you had finally tried to break free and secured a kitchen job in Lady Elthwith’s household. Happiness seemed within your grasp until you discovered that Lady Elthwith's husband was a regular guest of the back chambers in the tavern, believing he now had his own personal whore at home without paying for it. In your foolish determination to start a new life there you refused him, but the consequence was swift—you were fired and cast out onto the streets.

Today, you had returned to the tavern and begged the mistress to take you back, which she agreed to willingly, considering how popular you were among her clients. As you sat at the counter, tears welling in your eyes, you hoped nobody would notice you. You longed for this to be the last day of your dreamed-of different life; tomorrow, you would be a whore once again, but today, you still wanted to be a kitchen maid. Amidst your emotions, someone approached and took the seat next to you. Turning your head, you saw a young Dane, one of the warriors who always traveled with Uhtred. You had noticed him before—youthful, handsome, somewhat shy, silent, and thoughtful.

“The young man has paid good silver for your company the whole night,” your mistresses whispered in your ear, startling you as you hadn’t noticed her approaching from behind, “He is such a sweetheart, don’t disappoint him.”

A sigh escaped your lips as you lowered your gaze and, without looking at the young man, took his hand. You rose from your seat, leading him to your room with him following closely behind. Once inside, you closed the door and turned to see the young warrior sitting on your bed. You approached him, lifted your skirt, and straddled him as you sat on his lap.

“Tell me what you want me to do first?” you asked finally looking in his big, expressive eyes that were intensively watching you. “You have paid for the whole night, so we have plenty of time to fulfil all your wishes.”

His arms wrapped around your waist, and his hand began to gently caress your back, his fingertips tracing up your spine and back down to your waist. The touch was surprisingly gentle and soft. If this had been another day, you might have even found some enjoyment in it. It was a rarity for the men paying for their pleasure to show such tenderness.

"You looked so sad, tears in your eyes, as fragile as if you were about to break," the warrior whispered, his gaze locked with yours. It was the last thing you expected to hear, and your eyes widened in surprise. "You don't want to be here, do you?" he asked in his soft, husky voice, his thumb gently stroking your cheekbone as he continued to look at you with tenderness. Your remaining composure crumbled under the weight of his genuine concern. Despite not wanting to disappoint this gentle young man, who had surely spent a significant amount of silver for the whole night with you, you could no longer hold back. Tears started rolling down your cheeks, and your shoulders trembled as you hid your face in your hands, overwhelmed by uncontrollable sobs. To your utmost surprise, you felt his strong arms enveloping your shoulders, pulling you closer, and cradling you carefully against his chest, his hand tenderly stroking your hair.

“You can demand your money back, or the mistress will find you another girl. I am so sorry I am disappointing you,” you whispered through your sobs.

“Don’t, there’s nothing for you to be sorry about,” he hushed you, still holding you tightly in his embrace. “You are safe here with me. I don’t want my money back.”

“But I can’t. I am sorry, I just can’t, not today,” you begged as tears continued to roll down your cheeks.

“Oh, no, no. I did not mean that. I will not touch you; I promise,” the young warrior interjected hastily, “You just reminded me of someone, someone very dear to me. The look in your eyes, the way you tried to stay unnoticed, the sorrow emanating from you. I’ve seen this all too often, unfortunately, and haven’t been able to do anything about it. I couldn’t bear the thought of some drunken fool having you for the night and making you do something you so obviously did not want to.”

You couldn’t believe your own ears as you raised your tearful face and looked in astonishment at the young Dane, who still held you in his embrace.

“I don’t understand you,” you whispered.

He raised his hand, and you flinched involuntary at the motion, but he just gently tucked the strand of hair falling into your eyes behind your ear.

“I am sorry,” his eyes flared with compassion, “Please believe me, I will not hurt you, never.”

You were brought back from your sweet memories by a sudden wave of pain in your belly. You staggered and moaned loudly, clutching your tummy with both hands. A woman passing by saw it and instantly came to support you.

“Calm down, sweetheart, breathe slowly, your baby is coming,” she told you with a warming smile, holding you by your shoulders. Other women came running at her call, and supported by dozen gentle hands, you were brought to the tent of the old midwife and healer and lowered onto the heap of furs.

You had no idea how much time had passed. The waves of pain mixing with short moments of relief, the old midwife burning brunches of juniper berries, the other women placing a cold compress to your forehead and humming their prayers to Freyja  – everything was blurred and vague in your memories. The only thing you remembered clearly was the thrilling sound of your new born child’s first cry, a sound that filled you with complete happiness and relief. All you wanted was to hold this small miracle, so you stretched your arms out, but before the midwife could place the child in them, you twitched in another wave of pain. The midwife gave you a worried look and passed the babe to the woman standing next to her. Your eyes were wide with awe and fear. What was happening?

“Freyja stay with us! You are blessed with another child,” the midwife told you. Another child? You thought your Danish was too poor to fully grasp her words, but another wave of pain brushed over you, and you understood that it was not over yet.

“You were great, Freyja be praised for staying with you,” you heard the midwife’s soft voice. “Look at them! What a blessing! A boy and a girl! Healthy and strong! Just look at them!”

The overwhelming feeling that engulfed you when you took hold of the two tiny bundles was beyond words to describe, and the bliss that overtook you when you gazed upon the small, sleepy faces of your children surpassed any other feeling you had experienced in your whole life.

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

“We have found their camp, Lord. Sihtric’s wife is there, unharmed,” Rypere’s voice resonated with pride as he delivered the news to Uhtred, “And there is some other good news for you,” he continued turning to Sihtric, who sat in the back of the room, sharpening his axe.

Sihtric raised his brow and looked at Rypere with questioning eyes.

“You are a father, my dear friend!” Rypere’s answer caught Sihtric off guard, causing him to jump to his feet, his gaze filled with surprise and disbelief.

“I think you should sit down, before I tell you the rest.” Rypere grinned, wearing his sweetest smile.

“What? What do you mean? Is she all right? What else have you found out?” Sihtric rushed towards Rypere, gripping his shoulders, and looking bewildered in his eyes.

“You have a son, my friend.” Rypere replied, “And you have a daughter.”

“What?” Sihtric exclaimed in astonishment, the world spinning around him as he slowly grasped what Rypere had just said, “A son and a daughter?”

Sihtric’s legs gave in, shaking, and he would have surely collapsed if Finan and Osferth hadn’t caught him, wrapping him in a tight embrace laughing from the depths of their souls.

“You have twins, Sihtric! You lucky bastard!” they were cheering at him.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Tags: @namelesslosers

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Favorite sentence you’ve made a character say in one of your fics?

Oh god I have a LIST- but this spiraled so most of these are just dialogue quotes I managed to find whilst skimming- (Also realizing most of my funny one liners are internal dialogue)

“ I just said Bruce has been encouraging us to express our emotions- if you happen to do that through fists then well, I’d hypothetically vouch for your insanity plea deal” “Nightwing is a manwhore on principal not in practice- don't worry I know he's really a prude”  “Stop moving- Alan help me he decided to confront a man with a pipe bare fisted, I think he has a concussion” “...'m not fuckin Russian”? “How long is that coffee”? “However long it takes you to accept your fate, get ready in the meeting room, and about ten minutes" “But the image of you fleeing grounds like some heartbroken hallmark actress would be worth it” “I may owe you my kidneys, but not my respect,” 

Other works-

"Heaven forbid they find you pathetic enough to be a worthy victim- i'll be there to pay the burial fee, so goodnight” "Sensei? your more like an alcoholic uncle- or the weird emo cousin" "This asshole is the emo cousin, and the least responsible adult in this entire building" “I don't think it counts as winning just… not dying” “Last thing we need is you psyching out our seeker- If Wood wins this game I will personally kick your arse everyday for a month” “Against Wood and not Gryffindor huh? I think there's other asses on our dear captain's mind-”

"You burn the tree I won't touch your dick for a month-"

"Look Ev, i'm a girl thats all for people embracing their inner slut- "Especially those where its v e r y deep down"

 "You... are you sure you're not just projecting some sort of domestic fantasy"? "Am I really that much of a manwhore"?

“People rejected your theory because they were not ready to accept that their world would come to an end, you were persecuted just as the apostle Paul" (and the following threat speech, just my fav line)

[e-dubbc11]

Ericca, my love. A huge congratulations on your follower celebration. You deserve every single one and a thousand more 🥳❤️

So... I wanna push you out of your comfort zone a little and request a little drabble made from a gif and I'm gonna choose our dear Rumlow 😉

But also... can I pair it with a kiss prompt? "If you win, I'll kiss you"

No pressure at all, since you haven't written for Rumlow before, but I hope this could inspire you 😁❤️

My lovely Lily,

Thank you for being such a good friend to me, you’re always so supportive and encouraging. And thank you for following me and being a part of my celebration. It means so much to me that you read my fics and our daily chats are some of the best parts of my day.

And thank you for this ask, I’m REALLY nervous about writing for Rumlow so I hope you like what I did here. Oh and it’s a little more than a drabble 🤣

Never Again

Photos are not mine. They are courtesy of Pinterest/Google.

Pairing: Brock Rumlow x F! Reader

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of domestic abuse, injuries as a result of said abuse, lessons in boxing and Krav Maga, little violent.

Word Count: 3.9k-ish

Summary: You’re relatively new in town and you start working out at a nearby gym where you notice someone there that could help you with a problem from your past.

A/N: So yes this is my first time writing for Rumlow, I’m terrified but I had fun writing for someone new. And it’s a little longer than I intended but such is life! I hope you like it. And this has a very J Lo in Enough feel to it.

*********

You passed that building every day on your way to the gym. It was intimidating to look at even from across the water, wondering what was inside, wondering if anyone was looking down at you as you drove by the large complicated building with more windows than you could count but it was the building that he headed for every day after his workout.

Well, he did on the days that you and he finished your workouts at the same time.

Sometimes you would sneak into the part of the gym that had the boxing ring and watch him while you jumped rope, not well, but it was passable. He was amazing to watch, dominating his sparring partners with what looked like a combination of fighting styles.

Boxing, Krav Maga, Karate, and probably a few more but you didn’t know the difference. You had no idea how to fight, but you wanted to learn.

It might be helpful the next time your ex finds you because you knew there would be a next time.

The daily routine of trying to cover your bruises with makeup was exhausting and you didn’t want to do it anymore, you didn’t want to be scared anymore so you decided you were going to approach him.

He had a daunting look to him, wild brown hair, amber colored eyes, days old stubble, and his face always looked like he was filled with a dark rage but you had caught him smiling a couple of times when he wasn’t busy being cranky. So he did know how to smile but it was painfully obvious he didn’t do it very often.

After an aggressive run on the treadmill, you turned to step off and crashed right into him. He looked annoyed at first but when he looked into your eyes, his expression softened. You immediately apologized.

“Shit, I am so so sorry. Are you ok?” You asked, wiping the sweat off of your face.

Anger returned to his face when he looked at yours.

When you had wiped the sweat off of your face, you had taken some of your makeup with it, uncovering the greenish-yellow bruise around your eye that you had forgotten was there.

“Who did that to you?” He asked with a gruff tone to his voice.

Not remembering you had a bruise around your eye, you replied to his question. “Did what?”

He moved in closer and feeling his breath against your eyelashes, he gently turned your face toward the mirrors along the wall.

“That! Who did THAT to you?” He repeated again.

Quickly turning away from the mirrors and breaking away from his touch, you lied to him.

“Oh I’m just really clumsy, I walked into the corner of the door.” You said.

He seemed annoyed with your answer. “Right, if you say so, Miss. Have a good day.” And with that, he turned to leave.

But you didn’t want him to. “I don’t want to be afraid anymore.”

“WAIT!” You called out.

He stopped, turned and waited for you to catch up to him.

“Teach me…please.” You begged. “I’ve tried restraining orders, the police, they won’t help me. I feel like you might be the only one who can…I’ve seen you fight.”

He dropped his bag from his shoulder, placed his hands on his hips, and glanced at the ground before returning his gaze to you. The heat coming from his body hit your exposed skin and sent a shiver down your spine.

The muscles in his arms flexed as he pinched the bridge of his nose and returned his arms to rest at his sides. Bending at the waist, he picked up his gym bag and started to walk away.

Your stomach dropped as you watched him walk away before he turned to look at you once again.

“Be here tomorrow…noon. I’m Brock…Rumlow. Be ready to work. If you are thirty seconds late, I’m walking.” He said.

“Of course, yes I will be here Mr. Rumlow.” You said in a shaky tone. “I’m y/n.”

Brock cracked a slight smile. “Just Brock, sweetheart. I’ll see ya tomorrow. And do me a favor…”

He closed the distance between your bodies so he could whisper in your ear.

“Leave those bruises uncovered. I want you to take one more look at them because after I’m done with you, those will be the last set of bruises he’ll ever give you.” He growled and he walked away without turning back.

You had a feeling you were in for a long afternoon tomorrow.

**********

The clock said 11:45.

You made sure you weren’t just on time, you were early, changed and ready to work. You saw Brock walk in and head straight for the locker room, he was dressed in what looked like tactical clothing, all black from head to toe and black boots. He noticed you waiting for him and he held up one finger as if to tell you “one minute” or “be right out.”

You had done as he requested and left all of your visible bruises uncovered. The one around your eye was going away but you could still see the greenish-yellow mark on your face and also the hand and fingerprints on your arms and neck.

Feeling self-conscious, you tried to position yourself in a way where they weren’t so visible but it didn’t do any good. You felt like everyone was staring at you, even though they weren’t. They didn’t look as bad as they did before and they were also taking a long time to fade.

He emerged from the locker room dressed in black shorts, sneakers, and a white muscle shirt, plus his signature sour look to his face. But you had to admit, that look was rather sexy.

You watched carefully as Brock taped up your hands and then taped up his own. You were a fast learner so you should be able to tape up your own hands tomorrow, if you lasted through your first workout.

“Ya ever done any self-defense or boxing before, sweetheart?” He asked.

You shook your head before answering him. “No, never.”

“Ok…well, hope you’re ready to work.” He said.

“I am.” You replied.

And he did work you, he worked you harder than you’ve probably worked out ever before. He started with the basics…how to stand, loose knees, elbows tucked in, and the basic punches.

Brock showed you the jab, the cross, and the hook. Then taught you some of the basic combination punches: 1-2 (jab-right cross), 1-1-2 (jab-jab-cross), and the 1-2-hook-2.

Your time together went by quickly. And more than once you had caught Brock looking at the blue and purple marks on your upper arms as you threw punch after punch, encouraging you and praising you for when he thought you did a good job.

During one of your water breaks, he asked you, “When did you leave him?”

He caught you off guard, you weren’t expecting him to converse except when he was giving you lessons but it was nice to talk to someone that wasn’t yelling at you. Brock was surprisingly gentle.

He would always ask and make sure it was alright before he put his hands on you to show you something and his voice was stern but he never yelled at you which was comforting.

“Oh, awhile ago but he always manages to find me wherever I go, hence these bruises.” You pointed to the bruise around your eye.

“And he doesn’t know where you are now?” He asked.

“No, not yet but he has connections and money so I’m sure it’s just a matter of time before he does. This time I thought I’d try a bigger city, maybe he wouldn’t look for me here in D.C. but I’m just tired of running and being afraid, Brock.”

The man of few words had even less to say than he did before. He was silent, the look in his eyes was sad but not sorry. He didn’t seem the type to feel sorry for people but it was almost like he was proud of you for escaping, for leaving when a lot of people would just stay and take it.

You didn’t want to be one of them.

“Why does he keep chasing you then? What does he want?” He asked.

“I took something. Something that meant more to him than I ever did.” You said.

Brock looked like he was on the edge of his seat waiting to hear what you were going to say, before you cracked a sly smile and said,

“I took the cat.” Followed by a light giggle.

A smile stretched across his lips bigger than you had ever seen him smile before and he started shaking his head.

“The cat? You took the fuckin’ cat?” He asked in a surprised tone.

“Hey, Peanut is MY cat, not his!” You said, sass dripping from your voice.

Taking a sip of water, he inched closer to you while you were seated at the edge of the boxing ring and he was standing. Bending at the waist, he rested his hands on his knees so his eyes were level with yours.

You swallowed hard and heat rose to your cheeks as he continued to stare at you before he said in a low voice.

“I just don’t wanna see you get hurt anymore and especially not because of a cat, sweetheart.” He said.

His words didn’t faze you on the outside but on the inside you felt hot, and butterflies appeared from the depths of your stomach but you kept yourself calm and collected before responding to him.

“Well that’s why I have you, right? To teach me, I mean.” You said softly and trying to make it sound like you DIDN’T find him attractive, but you were pretty sure you were failing miserably.

He broke the awkward silence between you.

“Ya ready to do it again tomorrow?” He asked. “I gotta get to work.”

“Oh yes, absolutely but I’d really like to pay you for your time…please?” You asked.

Brock pressed his lips together in a straight line and shook his head furiously. “No, no I don’t want your money, doll. I honestly think you’re a natural fighter and I wanna teach you everything I know so you can be prepared, alright?” His voice was rough and stern.

You nodded and nervously bit down on your lower lip before changing the subject.

“Was that your work uniform you walked in wearing earlier? Can you tell me what you do or if you tell me, you’ll have to kill me?” You joked.

Brock smiled again. “Some other time, sweetheart. I’ll see ya tomorrow, same time.” He handed you a roll of tape. “Ya think you can tape up by yourself tomorrow?”

“I can do it.” You said, confidently.

He extended his index finger to point at you. “Ya know I’m gonna check it, right?”

“I know, I said I can do it, Brock.” You said with a slightly annoyed voice.

You hated being doubted.

“Ok, ok I’ll see ya tomorrow.” He said, throwing up his hands with a smug smile on his face.

**********

6 Months Later

“Come on, you can do better than that Princess!” He said condescendingly through gnashed teeth as you fought to free yourself from the tight grip he had you in, pinned against the wall. “Ya want his hands around ya pretty little neck like this again?! DO YOU?!!!” He yelled. “Come on, y/n!!

Six months ago, he never would have dared to grab you like that or yell in your face but you were much stronger now than you were then.

His hot breath hit against your face, and you managed to turn to the side, your elbow hit his forearm and his hand bent up at the wrist and you were able to quickly elbow him three times in the face.

In the six months Brock had been training you, you’ve managed to graduate from the basic boxing moves to Krav Maga where he really taught you how to protect yourself and how to inflict pain on your enemy.

You were making quick work of the sparring partners he had brought in for you to practice against. They were becoming less and less challenging and there was only one person you wanted to spar against to make you feel like if your ex attacked you, you would have the confidence to fight him off and that was Brock.

He had awakened something inside of you that you wouldn’t have known was there if it wasn’t for him. When he first started training you and said you were a natural fighter, you wanted to prove him right, that you could fight and you had the strength to not be pushed around anymore.

And the only way you were going feel good enough about your new fighting skills is if you could defeat him one on one.

“You’re gettin’ good, sweetheart…real good. Those guys are a little too easy for you, aren’t they. What do ya wanna do about it?” He asked.

“I wanna spar with you, Rumlow.” You said, breathing heavily.

Brock scratched his chin and playfully chuckled at you while shaking his head. “No, you ain’t ready for me yet, doll…you’re just not. You’re good but you’re not THAT good.” He said smugly.

You narrowed your eyes at him and suddenly became very agitated. The man was so sure that you couldn’t beat him, that he wasn’t even willing to give you a chance to prove him wrong.

Working out very close to Brock for the past six months caused you to develop some deeper feelings toward him too. Yes, you were friends but also you felt maybe he had an attraction to you like you had toward him.

There were subtle hints like you’d catch him staring at you while you were taping up your hands or getting a drink of water. Sometimes he’d wink at you when you performed well on a lesson he was teaching you. And he was smiling just a little bit more than you were used to seeing.

Anytime he put his hands on you during a lesson, he would always ask if it was ok or if he hurt you in any way to just tell him.

He never wanted to push too hard in case you weren’t ready for that yet. Sometimes after your lessons, you would take him out for a beer and he’d ask you questions about you ex.

“You can always tell me to fuck off if I’m askin’ too much, ya know. I can’t imagine it’s easy for you to talk about. Please don’t feel like you have answer me if you don’t want to. I don’t even know him but I wanna kill him for hurting ya.” He had said.

You gave him a warm smile. “I don’t really know anyone else in this city except a couple of co-workers. I don’t have anyone else to talk to about it, Brock. No other friends so thank you for listening.” You had said.

You had a feeling that he wanted to kiss you but he didn’t. Did he stop himself because he thought of you as damaged? Did he think he was taking advantage of your teacher/student relationship?

Sometimes it was all you could think about after you went home for the day. You had dreams about his lips colliding with yours, teeth nipping at your chin and jawline, and his calloused hands exploring your body, touching you in a way that you’ve wanted him to from the first second you saw him.

But maybe he was a betting man.

“You don’t think I can win, do you.” You said.

He thought he could catch you off guard by trying to punch you in the face but you were fast and blocked him.

“I ain’t gonna take it easy on ya, Princess. You know he won’t either.” And he threw another punch at you with the other fist, which you also blocked.

“I wasn’t asking you to.” You said with a coy smile before elbowing him in the stomach. “How about a little wager?”

“What do ya have in mind, y/n?” He asked.

You pondered for a brief moment. “If I win, you have to tell me what you do for work that requires you to wear all that tactical clothing.”

“Ok. And if I win?” He asked.

You moved in close so the two of you were sharing the same air, you were both breathing heavily and as your breath hit the skin on his throat, goosebumps skirted across his skin and he gazed down at you with a primal look in his eyes.

Looking up at him through your long dark lashes, you answered. “If you win, I’ll kiss you, since you’re apparently too chicken to do it.”

Brock wasn’t afraid of anything so now he was determined to win. The devilish smile that stretched across his lips told you he definitely wasn’t going to hold back and he would do whatever he had to make sure he wins the bet.

He had taught you to be very aware of your surroundings, aware of things that could be problematic like tables and other furniture that could get in the way if you had to fight off your ex in your own home but right now you were surrounded by gym equipment, the boxing ring, and the walls.

“You got yourself a bet, sweetheart.” He said.

“Well ring the bell and let’s go, Rumlow.” You replied.

As soon as that bell rang, he came after you and throwing different combination punches and kicks at you. Since Brock was bigger than you, you thought it would be best to try and wear him down so he’d make a mistake. You would use his size and strength to your advantage, ducking and weaving as he threw punch after punch at you.

Throwing all of his weight behind those punches was making him tired as you danced around him, punching him in between the shoulder blades and kicking him behind the knees but he didn’t stay down.

The rage in his eyes that you were so used to seeing everyday had returned as he got his second wind. Keeping his punches close to his body this time, he tried to get you to bring your hands down by attacking your body but you pulled him close to knee him in the stomach. Using all of your strength to throw him to the mat, only to watch him roll and get right back up again.

He was fast, really fast, but you took notice of his fighting patterns so you could counter with combination moves of your own.

You had to get him to the mat, it was the only way you were going to beat him. Suddenly you felt a hand around your throat like he had done earlier but this time being in the corner of the ring.

There wasn’t as much leverage you could use against the ropes as you could against the wall to try and free yourself but he left himself open, his legs were too far apart so you were able to take a swipe at his front leg causing him to fall to the mat.

Kneeing him in the chin, he fell flat on his back and you saw your opportunity to wrap your legs around his neck, in the hopes that he would yield…which he did.

“Fuck, your legs are strong!” He exclaimed, breathing deeply and trying his best to catch his breath after you climbed off of him.

You were trying to catch your breath also as you wiped the sweat from your brow. “S-so I’ve b-been told.” You said panting and trying to smile at the same time.

Brock stood up carefully so he wouldn’t lose his balance. Maybe in that brief moment in between your legs, you cut off his air supply which made you chuckle a little.

You removed your sparring helmet and started to take the fingerless fighting gloves and tape off of your hands. He did the same before he spoke again.

“Well y/n…looks like you beat me, fair and square. I supposed I gotta tell you what I do for a living now, don’t I.” He said, looking defeated.

You threw the helmet and the tape onto the mat and slowly walked over to him, still trying to catch your breath. You stopped inches away from him, the heat radiating through his t-shirt as you rested your hand against his chest and the other touched his cheek.

“Maybe another time.” You said, pushing yourself up onto your toes and gently pressing your lips to his.

Feeling how tense his body was, you pulled away and apologized only to have him pull you flush to his chest and his lips mash against yours as if he was trying to flatten and destroy your mouth.

His stubble scratched your cheeks but his lips felt so good against yours, his tongue slipped into your mouth causing you to softly moan and gasp into his mouth.

Winding strands of your hair in his fingers, he gently bit down on your bottom lip and gripped your head firmly as if to keep you from escaping.

But you let your guard down and he knew it so he swept your feet out from under you causing you to fall backwards onto the mat.

“Hey! You yielded, Rumlow!” You yelled, looking up at him. A rare genuine smile stretched across his lips. “Careful, you pull shit like that and you’re gonna end up with your head between my legs again.”

He helped you to your feet, pulling you in close and his voice sounded like a hiss from a dying fire as he whispered in your ear.

“The next time my head is between your legs, sweetheart, it will be because you want me there, trust me.” He said with a wicked smile.

His words, the gruff tone of his voice, the look he gave you…all sent delightful sparks down your spine and a guttural moan escaped your lips as he attacked your lips once again.

Caught in his firm embrace, his lips traced up and down the side of your neck before his hands gripped the hem of your t-shirt. Brock was just about to pull it over your head when you both heard knocking on the boxing ring doors and voices.

“Time’s up, Rumlow!!!” They said.

You broke apart quickly and laughed a little with each other before he yelled to the people outside the doors.

“Alright!! Just gimme a second!” He bellowed.

It’s a good thing your face was already flushed from the workout so the people that walked into the room couldn’t tell that you were blushing. Biting down on your thumb, you waited for him to come back into the ring.

“I, uh, guess we’re done for the day.” You said with a warm smile.

He replied. “Let’s go, doll. I’ll take ya home.”

After many long kisses outside your apartment door, and even though you didn’t want to, you finally said goodbye to Brock. Your heavy make out session at the gym made you realize that before having him in between your legs again, maybe a date first would be a better decision.

Smiling from ear to ear as you closed the door, you placed your keys on the table and put down your gym bag.

And that’s when he made his presence known. There was a touch of acid in that cold, hard voice of his when he spoke.

“Hello sweetheart. You’re getting better and better at covering your tracks. I’m impressed. Miss me?”

He had found you…again. And by the tone of his voice, he sounded like he wasn’t letting you get away this time.

Others that may enjoy: @fluffyprettykitty @qu1etwolf @redstarsandnightmares @gijos

[kangen-wanshi]

Hi!! I've been reading your blog and I came across your event prompt! So for that, can I request "Together Forever" number 5 for Watanabe and/or Jing Yuan?

Also, congratulations for reaching 300 followers🎉🎉🎊

Come Back To Me ft. Jing Yuan, Watanabe: Astral

Promises of returning to your loved ones embrace goes beyond words and hugs, for you, they have their own way to show you this side of him.

Tags: sfw, mention of death, kisses

A/N: Why is it so difficult to find Watanabe's good icon:(( Either way thank you anon!! Ty for requesting these two<33

300 followers prompt events! Ongoing until 11th June 2023

Jing Yuan, He gives you a task to keep you company

Jing Yuan looks like someone who pays lightly to the mission he assigned himself to. After all he’s the Dozing General, a legend amongst immortals, the Divine Foresight himself. Even if he were to leave for another few decades, he would pay no worries on the success of his missions.

Even so, you couldn’t help but worry for him. Whether you share immortality with him as a long-life species or not, you would always express your worry, your concern, and your wish of luck for him whenever he departed to take matter into his hands.

And he adores you for it. He’s viewed by a strong force in the military by many in the Xianzhou - to be seen as just another man that can in fact, die, suffer, be hurt, and most of all worthy of your concern, is just a hint of normalcy and domesticity he needed in his boring life as a general.

So instead of brushing off your concern and convincing you with just his words and his kisses, Jing Yuan gives a bit more effort in comforting you about his return. Before he leaves, he would ask you to count the number of strands on Mimi’s white mane, and with every hundred strands you’ve counted, he would give you a kiss in exchange when he returns.

“For every hundred strands you count on Mimi’s mane - I will give you a kiss in exchange. Keep counting, my dear. And when I return, my lips and attention will belong solely to you in effort to repay my promise.”

It keeps you occupied - it also keeps Mimi occupied with your affection. It’s a win-win in his eyes for the both of you. Mimi would have someone to take care of her should she be forced to wait another century for his return, and you would have a reminder of him when you crave to touch his own silver mane.

When he comes back after a long trip - the numbers you gave him doesn’t entirely matter anymore, he would give you dozens - hundreds of kisses if he could within a single night. Although if you came up with honest numbers, he would still give you a few dozen extra pecks. Why? Well you deserve a little more reward for your patience and care for his familiar, don’t you?

Watanabe: Astral, With his kisses and your warmth

This type of promise is something common that you and Watanabe exchange with each other. Living in a world full of war, fighting on the frontline to fight for humanity, risking your life has become the norm for the both of you no matter how cruel of a fate it seems.

Even so, both of you share similar intensity and feelings in your goodbyes. Whenever you leave, Watanabe will come with you if he can, no matter how dangerous your mission seems. But if it's a rare time where the two of you were assigned to different locations due to reasons, then either of you can only falter in defeat in hopes of gaining victory and coming home with your lives together in the end.

It’s like a ritual at this point. He’d pull you towards him, forehead pressed firmly against each other, as your nose grazed him lightly. You didn’t kiss, you didn’t share a word with each other, the short period of goodbye is only said through your touch. How his arms that were holding your shoulder slid down to your sides, holding you close to him, and how you cling onto him with a hand on his cheek.

The kisses you shared are light. A quick, silent peck, before he smothers your palm and wrist with his lips as you do his. It’s a promise that you would kiss each other when both of you returned. That you will come back to each other’s arms, alive and well. Only then will the two of you share your kiss.

“I don’t like being sappy with you.. Just, come back safe, and I will too, alright?”

As Watanabe left in the opposite direction of you, he let the warmth that your lips left on his hand to be the reason for him to come back alive. For him to return to you for more, for him to survive and return to your embrace.

[what-the-fic-khr]

I’m the anon who asked requested Tsuna for the tea prompts when you first did them and I am once again in a Tsuna mood (1? 2? years later lol??) and needing your beautiful writing lol. Can I request Black Tea, Chai and Milk Tea for him? Appreciate you and your work always!

banging my head against a wall, I wish these were a little longer or a little better, but they’re satisfactory enough I think. I hope you like them anyway, anon!! and thank you so much!!

character/s: tyl!sawada tsunayoshi, adult reborn, reader-insert (gender-neutral)

word count: —

warnings: n/a

prompt: tea prompts (black tea, milk tea, chai tea)

black tea; what do they look for in a person?

kindness, first and foremost. you must be a kind person, someone willing to help others. he’s met all kinds of personalities, but above all they all come together when help is needed. that goes for a partner. especially because as a kid he was treated so roughly; someone who is nice is the foundation of a perfect partner for him.

“Tsuna, I brought you some food.”

You held up a plate with a couple pastries on it and Tsuna hummed lowly. “Thank you, dear. You didn’t have to.”

“You haven’t taken a break in a few hours now, so of course I did. You can’t focus if you’re hungry.”

You only smiled when Reborn made a low noise, something like amusement. “Perhaps you coddle him too much? What would he do without you?”

“Ehh, I think it’s fine to coddle him a little bit!”

You set the plate down gently on Tsuna’s desk after he made some space for it. “Right? You’ll let me coddle you, won’t you?”

Tsuna pet one of your hands gently before taking it in his and squeezing. “Thank you. If you’d like to, you can. I appreciate it.”

“Yay. If you need anything, just ask.”

“I will, thank you.”

milk tea; what are their kisses like?

gentle, but confident. once he gets older, and has been with you for a while, there’s no hesitation in his kisses, or any of his actions. after a while, he becomes comfortable and thus does not need to worry about what he does, especially because he learns quickly what you do and don’t like as well

“I found you. Have you eaten yet?”

You turned to smile at Tsuna as he entered the kitchen, one of his arms slipping around your waist comfortably. “No, not yet. Why?”

You tilted your head without any instruction to, like habit, and Tsuna pressed a kiss to your lips with a pleased hum. It was short, and you followed him when he pulled away. His soft laugh could be felt on your lips.

“I wanted to come get you so we could go get lunch together, if that’s okay.”

“Of course it is.”

chai tea; how do they spice up their relationship?

assuming his partner can’t fight, he probably doesn’t take you many places with him when it comes to jobs, missions, etcetera. so I think he would fix this by taking you on specific trips overseas that are unrelated to work; if it’s unrelated there’s less chance people know where you’ll be and he gets to spend more intimate time with you, so it’s a win-win. the best one was obviously taking you to Namimori for the first time

“Ahh, what a cute, quaint town! It’s so nice here.”

Tsuna watched you rock back and forth as you looked out the window of your hotel, taking in the town again after you’d gone exploring earlier in the day.

“I’m a little jealous of you all. What a nice place to be raised in.”

“Mm, I agree. I think it’s a great place to raise a family.” He paused for a moment. “I had fun growing up here.”

You hummed lowly, thinking over his short pause carefully. You straightened, pushing off the windowsill to turn and face him, leaning back against it.

“I bet it was! Haha, thinking of you all running around causing trouble for everyone… Makes me wish I could’ve met you all sooner.”

He smiled widely at this, head tilting. He stepped closer when you waved at him too, crowding you up against the window. You happily grabbed his coat and tugged him down closer, lips ghosting over his.

“I think you would have fit in well with our little group,” he murmured. “But we can make new memories now, so it’s fine, isn’t it?”

“Right. We can start right now, too. Indulge me?”

“Of course.”

[wordsbymae]

nooo the wandering eyes😭 farmer, you were supposed to be different</3

would he ever see the insecurity of his little mouse? them trying to change to be more like people that he keeps looking at? and i'll be patiently waiting for the breaking point of mousey you mentioned, dear author👀

- 💫

Hehe my bad. If it helps, older farmer only has eyes for his pumpkin. But unfortunately, we're talking about Playboy Farmer so yeah his eyes wander slightly. He by no means ever acts on it, won't even talk to whoever he's eyeing. He's just a stupid man who doesn't see how it could count as cheating. To answer your question....maybe, most likely not. Mouse doesn't go out very much so it's only once or twice they notices this happening, and like most insecurities, it festers under their skin for a long time.

It starts small, eyes darting to look at their reflection before glancing away, worrying about how their clothes fit or how their hair looks. And despite telling the farmer they didn't really care what that cruel person said, those words dart around their head, causing doubt and worry. It's manageable though. Especially since they don't see many people so there are not many to compare themselves to.

But then they go out one weekend. To some market or fair or whatever. They walk hand in hand through the grounds, the farmer almost bored but still willing to be dragged where ever his sweet mousey wishes to go.

He stands behind them as they try to win a stuffed cow. Mousey's aim was shocking, but he knew they like to have a go first before passing the toy rifle over to him. He begins to lose interest, eyes wandering away.

Then a flash of skin catches his eye. A snake dancer is passing by, barely wearing anything at all, skin open for all to see. Long legs and a pretty face. Can you blame the double take he did, the low whistle and the roaming eyes from head to toe?

Mousey can. They turned when he whistled, thinking he was proud of the shot they just took. He was always saying they couldn't shoot for shit. Instead, they turn to see him lusty after a scantly clad figure, dancing with a snake roaming across their limbs. They dance with a fever, golden cloth shimmering in the light, eyes dark and seductive. Mouse watches as his eyes gaze at them in hunger, his mouth smirking. Mousey can't recall him ever looking at them like that.

They throw the gun onto the table and march away, tears blurring their vision. How could they compete with someone like that? So gorgeous that it hurt to look at them. They never dressed like that, acted like that, looked like that or even felt like that. They were just as plain as a mouse, nothing special or to write home to, nothing but someone to settle for.

Because that's why the farmer was with them, wasn't it? No one else wanted him, so he settled for what he could get. A boring little mousey. They rushed away, trying desperately to cover their tears.

It took the farmer a regrettable minute to realise mouse was gone. His eyes followed the dancer until they turned a corner and then he swung back around to see how his pretty mouse was getting on. Only to find them missing. His eyes darted around in fear and worry. Where did they run off to? did something happen?

He rushed forward into the crowd. His mousey was missing and wasn't gonna waste one second.

~~~~~~~~~~

He finds them sitting on the tray on his truck, eyes red and cheeks puffy. They were hunched over and tight lipped staring at the muddy ground below.

"Darlin'!" he called, "where the hell you bin, I've been lookin' for you everywhere. You got me worried sick"

You gave a loud sniff and turned your eyes away

"Why you cryn', someone say something? Was it that shit head?" he asked, hands finding your checks.

You flinched away from him, grimising as his touch.

"No body said anything" you grumbled, wishing he would just leave you alone

"Somebody do somethin then? Who was it" he growled. "You just give me a name, hell a face, and I'll fix it"

"You" you whispered with anger. "You did it. You're the reason I'm crying. You're the reason the night's been ruined"

"What I do mousey!" he huffed, "is it cause I wasn't watchin' ya shot the cans. I was watching, I swear!"

"How could you? you clearly had your eyes elsewhere! Couldn't peal them off, not even long enough to see me leave!" anger was rising now, pain morphing into a rage

"Now sweet-" he tried, his mistake now clear to him

"Do you even love me? Or are you just settling down with the only person who would be desperate enough to stay with you" came a growl

"Of course I love you!"

he was getting mad now, you could tell, defensive even.

"You show that love by eye fucking strangers? hm?" you jumped from the tray and gave him a light pushback. "I saw the way you looked at them! Like, like you actually wanted them. Like you were desperate for them!"

He let you advance upon him, his mind struggling to keep up. He just looked, why was it such a problem to just look?

"I would never cheat on you darlin'. Never" His hands were raised now in surrender or in defence you weren't too sure.

"Why should I believe you? It's a look today, a touch tomorrow and then next thing I know you're fucking them in our bed!" you shouted, eyes narrowed in hurt. This was apparently too far for him.

"Now you listen here mouse, I admit I ain't no church boy, not some holier than thou man free of sin. But I would never betray you like that, in our bed or anywhere. You are the only thing I care about." He huffed, rough hands gripping your shoulders tight. Love and pain were clear in his eyes.

"So yeah, I looked at someone else, my eyes do sometimes wander" You gave a groan of disgust "But! But they always come back to you. Come on darlin' let's just forget about this and head on home yeah? Or I can win you that stuffed cow you were after."

"I can't just forget!" you sneered.

"Well, why the hell not! Have you at least tried?"

"I can't forget because you don't look at me like that!"

Silence lingered, tears fell a bit further, and hands slipped away from your shoulders.

"You don't look at me like you want me" you whispered, "or like you're desperate to touch me, to have me. You just..... look at me, but never like how you looked at them"

"You can be real fucking dumb sometimes honey"

"Excuse me?"

"Of course, I don't look at you like that" he scoffed, and your heart fell "I ain't looking at you like that cause unlike anyone else, I need you. Like I need air to breathe or water to live. Without you, I'd die of heartbreak"

"Yeah right" you mumble

"It's true! Without you, I'd drink myself dead in a matter of days! And when I look at you, I look at you like I'm fucking in love with you, 'cause I am. So why would I look at someone like how I look at you? "

You stumbled over what to say, how to answer but nothing came out.

"And also I look at you like I wanna fuck you all the time, you just don't see me looking. Which is good for me 'cause I get to catch you in some pretty naughty situations" He smirked before a well-aimed slap to the arm changed his mouth to a small ow.

"If I ever, and I mean ever catch you looking at someone else you can sleep with the dogs"

"Aye, aye captain," he said, giving a mock salute as you giggled.

"You're not so easily forgiven though"

"Oh? And how does the light and love of my life wish me to be punished for my misdeeds?"

"Go be a man and win me that cow."

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

In all seriousness though, looking at other people like he did isn't very faithful at all and would be something I would struggle to forgive, but this is fiction sooooo

Tag list: @floraroselaughter

[sp00kymulderr]

prism

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn reader

Warnings: 18+, pwp, kinda subby Dieter, kinda gentle dom reader. dirty facetime call, m masturbation, allusions to m receiving anal, lots of pet names for Dieter (nothing for reader)

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: Dieter always gets desperate when he's away from you for too long.

A/N: comments and reblogs forever appreciated! To follow for fic updates only go to @sp00kyupdates​ or see taglist details on my masterlist. Credit to gif maker.

Dating Dieter Bravo is not easy. That’s the truth.

It’s difficult. He’s difficult. An international movie star with an Oscar win under his belt? Yeah, he requires a certain kind of partner and a certain amount of patience. It’s not on purpose of course, you know that, but he is so used to a particular level of attention and he’s not exactly not a diva.

The worst thing about dating Dieter though is that he so often is just not around. Those long, long periods when he’s off in some beautiful but entirely too lonely location filming something ludicrous for equally ludicrous money.

Dieter requires attention and it’s kind of like torture for you both when you can’t touch him and give him all that he so desperately wants from you.

So you have to make do with what you can give him.

“That’s right baby” You say softly, watching him on the screen of your phone.

You’d taken his video call 30 minutes ago and he’d already been needy for you; plush robe hanging open as he sat in his luxury hotel bed and gave you those ridiculous big brown eyes, moaning your name and telling you just how he couldn’t live another second without you. Dramatic to the end, that was your dear sweet Dieter.

Your love adores an audience, never used to doing anything all alone. It’s to be expected after a few days of filming that he’ll call you with needy rasps and grunts down the phone line either talking you through your pleasure or begging for something from you. Today it is begging. Today he is all yours in exactly the way you like.

Now he’s showing you just what he needs with his hand fisted around his aching cock and his face flushed pink with a sheen of sweat making him glistening so deliciously. He’s angled the phone on his night-stand to give you the best view he can as he thrust his hips up to fuck in to his fist. He looks so lovely and you silently thank whoever invented video calling as you talk him through his obedient desperation.

“That’s good pretty boy. Imagine it’s me, yeah?” You coo, giving him what you can to help him along.

Dieter whimpers with movements stuttering a little. He’s been holding off for a while. Trying really hard for you.

“Just think...sweet thing...think about my mouth around you, taking all of you in. Can you do that baby?” You guide him your voice a little breathy as you work on your own need. You can’t possibly not get off to him being like this. “Jesus fucking christ” He groans “I’m gonna…”

You can tell. From the way he pants out his words in grunted syllables and from the clearly achy, leaky tip of his cock thrusting up through his fisted hand. “Oh no, be good. Give me another minute” You direct with a voice all sticky sweet with love and deep enjoyment the view. Only a little annoyance that you’re seeing it on a small screen rather than from in between his legs

Dieter whines and you tut. This is exactly how you like him, when he's tamed and desperate for you. A shame it only seems to happen when he's on the other side of the world. You love that you get to see him like this but you hate that there’s this goddamn screen separating you and all those miles of ocean. You want to make him cry. Hold him off for hours and then put your mouth on that gorgeous cock til he’s a mess.

"Oh sweetie, the things I'd do to you if I was there" you moan

"I'll get you on a...on a plane right now" He whimpers, and gives a look to the screen that makes you think of a sad little puppy not getting what it wants. You laugh a little.

"Hm, I bet you would. But I don’t think so. Besides I like you better when you can't disappoint me"

It's cruel but he moans, fucking his fist a little faster,

"Hold on for me"

"Can't-" Dieter sighed

“You better or I'm ending the call right now. You don't wanna come without an audience. I know you baby" Your tone gets harder, more commanding and he lets out a strangled groan. He whines your name all pathetic. He's a mess, fucked out and sweaty, cock already leaking over his hand right on the precipice of release.

"Let me come...I’ll...I'll buy you that ticket straight away and give you something better" He says quietly, distracting both of you and stilling the movement of his hips as he tries to bargain with you.

"Oh?"

"Let you fuck me properly I want you to...to...take me" Dieters words are so urgent, his breath coming out short.

You raise an eyebrow to the camera. That piques your interest. He's not given you that opportunity yet. For a couple seconds your silent, trying to control your own pleasure enough not to slip out of your current persona.

"Keep moving baby, don't remember telling you to stop" you finally say

"I'll let you. I want you to. Just let me buy you a ticket and get on the damn plane". He starts again, slowly so he doesn't explode within a millisecond.

"I'll think about it. It's a good offer, I'd love to fuck you. You know I would. Make you beg for it"

"Jesus...." He pants, too close to do anything else but beg "Please..."

"Go on, honey. Better be a lot" you finally allow it, and Dieter sighs in relief.

You watch the screen intently as he succumbs; his hips faltering as he spills hard all over his hand. It is a lot, it always is when he knows you're watching. He looks so good all messy and undone. It might be your favourite sight in the world. His hair sticks to his head a little. You want to run your fingers through it and see if he'll give you more of himself.

"Get over here on the next flight, I swear to god" He mumbles, breathy, before continuing "Can't give me up, I know you can't"

You roll your eyes at his cockiness and take your hand away from yourself. If he’s lucky you'll call him again later to finish this. He’s always lucky with you.

"You're gonna have to beg me, you’ll have to show me show bad you want it” You tell him, voice all cool confidence because you know he can’t say no and you don’t want him to. “I’ll call you again in an hour and you better be ready to show me"

You both know you’re going to give in but it’s not about that, it’s about his supplication right now.

He sobs all sweat and breathlessness and sticky mess when you stop touching yourself and he hears the zip of your pants going back up. You give him a sweet smile but oh you’re going wild on the inside at every detail you can see on that bright little phone screen. You’d lick his release right off his hand if you could.

“Get cleaned up, messy boy. If you’re good you’ll get to see me come next time too”

He’s about to say something more but you won’t let him have the last word.

“And then we’ll talk about that flight”

You hang up.

He’ll give you exactly what you want and you’ll give him exactly what he wants, there’s no question. But the waiting only makes it more worthwhile for both of you.

[lancermylove]

Feeling Lonely (Word Game)

Fandom: Obey Me

Pairing: Solomon x fem!Reader

Warning: Mild angst.

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Can I request Solomon with female mc and night, sigh, waiting?

A/N: Sometimes I feel bad for Solomon. He really tries to get MC's attention, but the demon brothers always win in the end.

Word Count: 734

———————————————

Yet another night of waiting for you to return. Solomon sat on one of the dining room chairs, his back pressed against the chair and his head raised to the ceiling. He should be used to this, should he? You were the same in the future timeline, so why was he growing impatient now? Was Solomon perhaps hoping you would not get as close to the brothers since they didn't remember you? At the thought of the brothers, Solomon felt as though multiple needs pierced the flesh of his heart.

The oldest was far from kind and pushed all his brothers' troubles onto you. Yet when you spoke to Lucifer, your held eyes warmth, and your tone was sweet as honey. The second brother caused you problems and dragged you into messes with him, and you happily followed, knowing the consequences. Though, he couldn't be as upset with Mammon, considering he was the kindest of them all.

"But still," Solomon mumbled, his eyes fixed on a stain on the ceiling.

The third brother lacked control over his emotions and tended to dump his emotions on you. Yet you comforted Levil with open arms and did all you could to uplift his mood. The fourth brother was a narcissist and whined more than necessary, but you never failed to make him feel beautiful time and time again. Granted, he couldn't complain too much about Asmo, as the demon had a sweet nature.

"But I still dislike when he looks at you seductively…"

The fifth brother got you into trouble multiple times whenever he attempted to prank Lucifer; moreover, you had to clean up every time after his anger episodes. Even then, you stood by Satan's side without fearing his wrath. Not to mention, you were not a part of their family, but you did everything you could to keep them together. The sixth brother didn't cause much trouble unless food or hunger was involved, but why did he need to wake you up in the middle of the night just to tell you he was hungry? You didn't need to cook for him or answer his call that late yet you still did.

"You even refuse my help when I offer to cook for Beel. Why?" Solomon closed his eyes and exhaled loudly.

Lastly, Belphie wasn't as much of a handful as he was in the future timeline, but he took your life in the future. Somehow, you were still not fazed by him, not in the future and certainly not now. What made these brothers so special? To add to this, they were demons - creatures of the dark, but this made no difference to you.

"I asked you to carefully tailor your decision for the sake of the Human Realm, but you…you continuously choose to protect the brothers and do what's best for them," A strained smile tugged on his lips. "It's not that I don't trust you, but I am jealous."

They had always held a special place in her heart, and the sorcerer wished he could also hold such a dear space in her heart. He had always done everything for her, yet it seemed like it was not enough to get her to open up her heart to him completely.

"You're my girlfriend, yet your heart has more room for the brothers than me."

His body was drained, and his mind was exhausted. Maybe it was due to the unnecessary thoughts he was having. Was it right for him to keep these thoughts to himself? If he told you, you would be sad, and that was not something Solomon wished upon you. As the night grew darker, he felt his eyes getting heavy, and eventually, he drifted off to sleep.

When you returned home, you saw Solomon asleep with his head resting on the dining table. At first, you found it cute that he was waiting for you, but the closer you got to him, the more you took note of his expression. His features were relaxed, but his brows were furrowed and lips downturned. It was as if a heavy burden plagued him.

Did something happen while you were away? Not wanting to wake him up, you leaned close to his head and planted a soft kiss. Tomorrow you would talk to him about this, and you didn't plan to let him leave until he told you the truth.

———————————————

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from stars through my fingers like grains of sand

Sam leaned back in one of the chairs in the computer core, feet up on the console, hat pulled down low over his eyes. Probably looked like he was taking an impromptu nap; he had to admit the idea was tempting. As a lover, Cait had turned out to be creative, enthusiastic, energetic… He chuckled quietly. She'd thrown herself into giving him as much as he'd tried to give her, delighting and sometimes even surprising him. Yes, indeed, he was a very happy man—if, occasionally, a little tired. It had been a long time since he'd been expected to make love all night and then go on as normal the next day. Damned if he was going to complain about it, though. Not when she'd lost that drained, taut look she'd had since before Altair. He'd have counted that a win no matter how else things might have turned out.

Light footsteps on the deck behind him, followed by a cool hand on his shoulder. Cool—she'd seemed that, in the beginning, cool and remote—but hot damn did that reserve hide one hell of a firecracker. His firecracker. "There are more comfortable places to take a nap than this," came her voice, warm with amusement.

He pushed back his hat and looked up at her with a grin. "Just spending some quality time thinking about you."

Cait leaned her hip against the console. "Good things, I hope?" The faint eddies of color in her eyes suggested she was in a good mood as she smiled down at him. She didn't quite take her time letting her gaze travel up his body to his face, but a brief lowering of her eyelashes and a quickly-hidden bite of the lip suggested she was thinking of something more than just a casual greeting. His grin widened at the knowledge that she still liked what she saw. Later for that, he reminded himself.

That look, that smile, was a sight still took his breath away, and Sam hoped that'd be the case for a long, long time to come. He said, a little more quietly and a lot more seriously, "You know, when the night gets so dark you can see the first colors of the Milky Way—" like the colors in her eyes "—and you think, 'Dear god, this universe is incredible'?" He took her hand and brought it to his lips. "That's how you make me feel. Every time."

She smoothed her fingers against his cheek. "You're the sun in my days and my guiding star at night," she said softly. "Without you, I'd be lost. Just… surviving."

Sam knew what she meant, but he could hardly take all the credit for the way she'd turned her life around. Sure, he'd helped, and Constellation had helped, and Cora had definitely helped, but the desire and the drive and the strength to make that change had all come from her. "Noticed you left the moon out of there," he said, a little huskily.

Cait shook her head, as if she knew what he'd been thinking. Or maybe not; her next words came with a wry smile. "The moon—the inconstant moon, that monthly changes in her circled orb—would be the one clomping up behind you," she said. He recognized his daughter's footsteps, and his heart filled up just a little bit more, because of course Cait would think of Cora too, include her as naturally as breathing. And he saw the light flush on her cheeks and the brightening of her eyes as she caught his happiness at the thought.

Happiness. Now there's something that should be catching.

"Augh," Cora groaned. "You guys never said you'd be getting mushy all the time!" She immediately undercut her complaint by landing a loud, smacking kiss on Sam's forehead and following up with a hug for Cait.

"Can't help it," Cait said whimsically—but Sam could hear the truth under the whimsy. "Your dad's just that irresistible." She turned her smile on Cora. "Be glad I don't break out the poetry."

"Anything but that," Sam interjected, letting his feet fall to the deck. "So how'd your visit to Uncle Ben go, sweet pea?"

"It went really great!" Cora enthused. "He and Aunt Becca couldn't believe I'd gotten this tall!" She giggled. "And Aunt Becca says I need feeding up, but she always says that. She sent a box of cookies home with me." She pulled away to look up at Cait. "They're chocolate, so I asked her to wrap them in extra packaging, and I'll wait until we get to the Lodge to open them up." None of them had forgotten the anaphylactic reaction Cait had suffered from a cross-contaminated protein bar; fortunately, she kept a few Panaceas in stock for just such incidents. They all got through it with little more than a scare, but it had made Sam and Cora both determined not to let it happen again.

"I appreciate it," Cait said quietly, lightly ruffling Cora's hair. Sam wondered that Cora couldn't see the love practically shining out of Cait's eyes, but if Cora hadn't figured it out yet, no sense rocking that boat. She looked over at Sam. "Ben—" because of course Ben had taken one look at the two of them and told her to call him 'Ben' "—will check on Cruz once a week. She said she only had a few weeks; honestly, I'm not sure she'll last one. It's not just illness eating her up inside." Sam nodded, soberly. Maya Cruz was a bitter, bitter woman. "We'll need to stop in Akila City to drop the slate she gave us off, and then follow up on the smuggling lead." She grimaced. "The Red Mile."

Cora looked between Sam and Cait. "You're not going to run it, are you?" She sounded genuinely concerned.

Cait was already shaking her head as Sam said, emphatically, "Hell, no!" And thank God the Mile hadn't been a going concern when he'd been young, reckless, and stupid enough to do it. He'd spent some time there, before the Mile, when the only dangers had been men who walked on the wrong side of the law, and a fast gun or a faster mouth could get you out of trouble. It had been dangerous enough back then; now, the brutality was hidden beneath a veneer of civilization. If you could call the kind of people who'd wager on someone's death 'civilized'.

"I don't feel the need to prove my courage or competence by risking my life for no reason," Cait agreed. "No, we're just here to compare notes with another Ranger whose case may overlap with mine. We get the information, we get out, we move on."