#gotta make sure the little ones stay healthy!

[axewchao]

Another look at the three new faces from the previous pic! They may only be memories to Dal now, but they're memories that he keeps close to his heart.

Fun fact: Everyone in Dal's tribe had their names come from gems. Would've had each gem connect via what they symbolize, but it was hard to get any concrete meanings when multiple sites would say different things about the same gem. So I decided, "screw it, go random."

Tanzi: (Name comes from tanzanite.) The older of Dal's charges. A shy yet curious sort, Tanzi loved exploring the caverns with her Warden. She especially loved lessons revolving around gems and their uses, and would collect different ones so she could practice making jewelry. Coming from a whole family of jewelers, it was clear that Tanzi would've had a head start on her future once she was of apprentice age.

Whenever she wandered the lower levels of the tribe's home, Tanzi would often sense something... "off" about the area, but no one ever saw her concerns worth investigating. Except her Warden, that is...

Ama: (Name comes from amazonite.) The younger of Dal's charges. Reckless and confident, Ama's dream from the get-go was to become an Ascendant and see the world above, and she spent every day trying to find ways to make that happen. Often to disastrous effects; proving how fast she could run led to her crashing into people/fragile objects, she'd nearly set off a few traps that could've seriously hurt her, and Dal himself had his own share of injuries when trying to keep her out of harm's way. Him being gentle yet firm was what made him the only Warden capable of keeping her in check, as others would loudly scold her, which both scared and made her all the more determined to prove herself, just so they'd stop yelling all the time.

Her motivation took a hard hit after her Warden was sealed inside a crystal; that's only for the bad guys, and her Warden was never bad!! So why'd the grown-ups take him away...?

Lazule: (Name comes from lapis lazuli.) A friend of Dal's since childhood, Lazule was an Ascendant; a tribe member that was granted access to the surface world after proving he was capable of handling the dangers that waited up above. His role was mainly to gather various herbs, fruits, and any other plants when requested. He did this happily, often coming back with more than what was asked of him because he wanted to spoil the puggles. And maybe get a flower or two for Dal, since seeing the latter left him more and more tongue-tied as they both got older...

While Tanzi and Ama are at peace in the afterlife, Lazule's spirit remained dormant in the caves, watching over the crystal Dal was imprisoned in, the Protector Pearl, and the ruins they both once called home. It isn't until Team Sonic arrives and frees Dal that Lazule finally passes on, knowing that both his dearest friend and the tribe's beloved Protector Pearl were left in good hands.

The new world Dalex had ascended to was completely different from what Lazule had always seen... but Dal would be fine. And someday, when Dal's time truly comes, he can tell Lazule all about it.

Until then, Lazule, Tanzi, Ama, and many others are more than content to wait.

[thebleedingeffect]

.

[mytheoristavenue]

How MHA Guys React to Fangirls

Summary: Dating a pro hero can be a challenge, especially one so handsome, with so many rabid fans.

Warnings: jealousy, fluff, gn!reader, very little angst

Katsuki Bakugo:

Bakugo has never been into having fans as he is just being all together admired. Not one for social interactions, he tends to clam up and become defensive when asked for an autograph, so when he's approached by a fangirl, he wants nothing to do with them. Especially if he's out with you, off duty. If one does happen to approach, and ignoring them doesn't do the trick, he'll make sure he's not their favorite hero anymore by the end of it.

"Do I look like I'm on duty to you? Can't you see I'm out with my partner or are you fucking blind? Piss off, I ain't signin' any damn autographs."

Izuku Midoriya:

Izuku totally understands how it feels to be a hopelessly obsessed fan, so he cuts his fans a lot of slack- sometimes too much. Though he rerfused to admit it at first, he has a lot of fangirls. and he's never the type to hurt someone's feelings on purpose, so he almost always stops for free autographs and photo ops. It can be sometimes frustrating how much of a people pleaser he can be, but rest assured, if he feels like you are getting too uncomfortable, or a fan is becoming too bold, he politely and swiftly ends the interaction.

"Hey, thanks for the support! I'd love to stay and chat, but it's actually my day off, so me and and my partner here are gonna move along. Hope to see you at the next event I attend, though!"

Tenya Iida:

Iida does truly enjoy interactions with his fanbase, but he considers that part of the job, and he's very strick about working off the clock. Because of this, he declines nearly every interaction if he's off duty. He absolutely has no tollerance for being flirted with, either, especially in front of you.

"I appreiciate your enthusiasm, but I and currently off duty and will not be indulging in fan interaction at this time! Please feel free to catch me anytime you see me in uniform! Good day!"

Shoto Todoroki:

Shoto doesn't beleive he has fans, genuinely. He can't quite wrap his head around having a fanbase, or being a fan of a celebrity in the first place, due to how he grew up. It tends to bewilder him when strangers approach him on the street wanting autographs, even more so when they try and put the moves on him. It just goes in one ear and out the other.

"You want an autograph? Why? Well, okay, I guess, but then we should get going. My partner and I are busy."

Eijiro Kirishima:

Kirishima tends to have a very healthy balance of pleasing fans and knowing when to say no. He loves giving out autographs, taking selfies, and giving hugs to all his fans. He especially loves interactions with child fans because it reminds him of how he idolized Crimson Riot, and he hopes to inspire someone like that too. He is, however, very aware when he's being flirted with or sexualized, and has no issue with promptly, albeit politely shutting it down.

"Alright, ladies, I understand someone as manly as me attracts a lot of attention, but my partner here is the only one I've got eyes for, and I ask that you please respect that."

Denki Kaminari:

Unfortunaely for you, Denki loves attention from fans, especially from his fangirls. He never turns down a signing or photo op, posing with girls however they want, even if it means something suggestive. To his credit, he will stop if you ask him to, but you still have to ask.

"Oh, what's that? Okay. Sorry ladies, we gotta run, but catch me at the next meet and greet!"

Hanta Sero:

Like Kirishima, Sero seems to have a pretty healthy mix of reactions. He loves his fans to death and would do most anything for them, especially kids. He lets his fangirls sexualize him to a small extent, knowing they probably don't totally realize he's a real person, but if they come to commenting on his body, or touching more than his shoulder, upper back, or elbows, he puts a stop to it.

"Now, that's enough, ladies. I appreiciate the admiration but even us celebrities have to set boundaries. It was nice meeting you, but it's actually my day off so me and my partner are gonna get, have a nice day!"

Minoru Mineta:

Like Denki, Mineta unfortunately lets his fangirls do whatever they want to him, short of carry him off. He actually does sometimes feel guilty for hurting your felings, however. He just doesn't realize how his flirting can affect you at times. He hopes you know that, even if he does flirt back, it's you who he truly loves!

"Awe, babe, I'm sorry! They don't even matter to me, I swear! It's you that I love, not some silly fangirl!"

Tokoyami Fumikage:

Tokoyami for the life of him does not know how to interact with his fans. He gets overwhelmed by crowds, but can usually handle interactions if they come one or two at a time. He typically caters to most requests, unless they happen to be personal questions, or something embarrassing. He doesn't like the idea of some fans being attracted to him, as he's only attracted to you, and he feels guilty beign someone's unrequited love. Due to this, he doesn't entertain any kind of flirting from any of his fans, no matter what gender.

"Sorry, I'm not comfrotable signing that for you, can you pick something else? My partner here is my only love, so it wouldn't be right of me to sign your photo with anything romantic."

Mezo Shoji:

It took a lot of convincing to get Shoji to understand that he had fans, let alone ones that were attracted to him. he's just not used to people other than you thinking of him that way, with his mutations and all. You actually had to show him all of the fan works of him online to get him to believe you. That being said, Shoji loves his fans, but he tends to get overwhelmed by the sheer number of them, and the fact that the can forget he's a person, not a character. In the past, he's had issues with fangirls stroking his muscles during photo ops, squeezing his pecks, and one even tried to yank his mask down. Luckily since then, he has learned how to manage fan interactions much better.

"Hey, don't do that. I'm a person, just like you, please treat me how you'd want to be treated. And don't disrespect my partner by tyring something inappropriate right in front of them."

Mashiroa Ojiro:

Like Shoji, Ojiro had a hard time accepting he had fans, but took much less convincing on your part. What he really struggled with was coming to terms with some of his fans liking him romantically. He doesn't typically turn away fan interactions, even on his days off, but he does cut them shorter that he would if he were working. If someone tries anything inappropriate, he ends the interaction right there.

"Sorry, I don't appreciate what you just did. Besides, it's my day off and I'd like to spend it with my partner here. I forgive you though, and hope to see you again at a meet and greet in the future!"

Tamaki Amajiki:

Tamaki appreciates the thought of having fans, and when standing intront of a cheering crowd, he can soemtiems handle it, but he really hates fan interactions. He never knows how to handle them, and many end up with him just nervously standing by while a stranger takes pictures with him, many times without his permission. Many times, you have to step up from him and ask the person politely to move along, which he always appreiciates.

"T-Thanks, babe... They were making me really uncomfortable but I didn't wanna hurt their feelings..."

[perlelune]

Oxytocin | Coriolanus Snow | v. {END}

One act of kindness from a peacekeeper may be your salvation or your doom. Possibly both.

Warnings: DUB-CON, Blackmail, District 8 Reader, Stalking, Kidnapping

This is a dark story. Heed warnings before reading under the cut.

𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖘 𝖒𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙

A deep breath flows from your lungs as you examine your reflection in the cracked, stained mirror. It’s been in your family for years and you never had the heart to rid yourself of it, despite the object’s sorry state. Like everything in the small house, it harbors a plethora of fond memories.

You arrange a few unruly strands of your hair. Though you immediately feel silly for doing so.

It’s not like he cares what you look like. It never bothered him before. He always seeks you out, even when you are worn and sweaty after working a long day at the factory.

As you tiptoe across the room, your gaze settles on Tilly’s tiny form. Soft breaths lift her chest up and down. She is fast asleep, thankfully. Words are amiss to explain where you’re sneaking off to tonight, who you’re planning on meeting up with…or perhaps there are words for that, some you are too terrified to even fathom. Two young people secretly wandering the streets of District 8 at night to find each other and…

Your cheeks flare with warmth.

This isn’t what Coriolanus is to you. He is your tormentor. That is all. If it weren’t for him, you wouldn’t be shaking like a leaf in the dark, your stomach threatening to drop to your feet.

One of the moth-eaten, dusty floorboards squeaks below your feet as you reach the exit door and nudge it open.

“Are we going somewhere?”

Startled by your cousin’s drowsy voice, you turn around so fast that your head spins. She blinks at you curiously as she sits up in her bed. A heavy sigh peals from your lips. Smiling from ear to ear, you approach her.

You hunker down in front of her.

“I am. You’re not, sweetie.”

“Where?”

Your stomach coils. Still, your smile remains intact.

“Just gotta run an errand quickly,” you lie while cupping her cheek. “We’re running out of your medicine. We have to make sure you stay healthy past the winter.”

She yawns and glances at the twinkling stars through the window.

“But it’s so late.”

Excuses dwindle in your head. You retreat to the authoritative older sibling tone you sometimes use to get your cousin to do her chores.

“I’ll be back before you know it. Just go back to sleep, okay?”

You tuck Tilly back into bed. Arranging the blanket over her gingerly, you drop a soft kiss on her forehead.

Your cousin nods and curls herself beneath her blanket. Relief swells within you. She is too little to hear about the purpose of your nightly trip. In fact, you plan on her never knowing a thing about it. With luck, all of it will end tonight. You’ll bow to the peacekeeper’s demands. One last time. Then you’ll bury the awful memory in the furthest, deepest recesses of your mind and never look back.

It’s what you hope will happen.

Cool winds skate across your skin when you step outside. The moon trails your quiet, anxious trek through the alleys of District 8, its silver beams lighting the cobblestoned path. Every time your feet hit the ground, the nervousness in the pit of your stomach grows. Perhaps you should have stayed home, risked his wrath. You are so painfully unready for whatever the peacekeeper has in store for you. Your wild, palpitating heart seems as if it’ll burst out of your chest any second now.

Suddenly, your tremulous walk is halted.

Familiar fingers snake around your wrist. You’re pulled into a dark corner and shoved against a wall. A stunned gasp hops from your throat. 

Coriolanus smirks at your reaction.

“No need to be scared, birdie. It’s just me,” he whispers, balancing his arm above your head in a way that makes you feel caged.

“Coriolanus.”

He seizes your chin, cobalt eyes drinking you in. His voice is almost soft.

“You really thought I’d let you walk on your own at night? It’s not safe.”

He parts from the wall. His hand wraps around yours. He tugs you along and you have no choice but to follow.

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll recognize it.”

Indeed, you do. To your utter despair. After strolling through a vertiginous amount of dank alleyways and narrow stairs, you and the peacekeeper end up in front of a place that bears a daunting familiarity.

As the neon lights of the brothel fill your sight, your apprehension skyrockets.

Snippets of memories of what occurred the last time you were here lurk inside your mind. Your insides clutch.

Coriolanus sighs. His thumb sweeps across your palm, almost tenderly.

“It won’t be like last time. I promise. You can trust me.”

The same beautiful woman welcomes the two of you. Once again, there’s a flirting lilt to her tone, one the peacekeeper ignores. Coriolanus asks about a room. His questions about it fade amidst the uproarious drumming of your heart inside your ears. You’re a jittery wreck behind him, your gaze bouncing from wall to wall.

His deep voice yanks your attention back to him.

“Birdie?”

“Y-Yes?”

The corner of his lips quirks upward.

“Come with me.”

You nod. Is it too late to make a run for it? Though you’d rather not find out how much worse this could get, how mean Coriolanus could turn. He didn’t even hesitate to have you on your knees before, simply to make a point. He’s in good spirits now, nicer than he’s ever been to you, even humming a light tune to himself. Maybe you should aim to keep it that way. Tread the path of least resistance, as much as you loathe yourself for surrendering to him so easily.

You enter the room. Your heart leaps when you hear him lock the door behind you. The inside is nicely decorated. Candles around the canopy bed at the center of the room provide a soft, intimate light. 

Red and white rose petals are scattered over the silk sheets.

Your heart skips a beat when his breath ghosts over your neck.

“It’s pretty, right?” His hands settle over your hips, his chin resting on your shoulder. “I had it decorated specially for us.”

He shifts you so you’re facing him. Fingers sneak below your chin, tilting it upward. Your stomach flutters as you get lost in his blue eyes. They burn into you like coals in the swaying candlelight.

“Has anyone ever done something this nice for you?”

You remain silent for a while, fiddling with the scarf around your neck, the one he gave you.

“N-No,” you eke out after an eternity.

He starts pulling on your scarf. When it hits the floor, exposing your neck to his gaze, you already feel incredibly vulnerable. You tremble as Coriolanus begins to circle around you. As he does that, more articles of clothing join your scarf on the floor, turning into a growing heap at your feet.

First he unbuttons your shirt. When it’s loose on your frame, he pulls on it lightly until it slides off you. Next he unlaces your skirt. Coriolanus is slow, digits dragging over your quivering flesh as he peels every layer of fabric off you. Eventually, you are bare before him. Goosebumps peek under your skin as he spends a torturous minute simply appraising you. Lust swells his pupils, nearly drowning the blue in his eyes.

“Have you ever done this before?”

You shake your head. He seizes your jaw, angling your face upward.

“No miners? No factory worker? No one before me?”

Heat rushes to your face. Still, you shake your head again, faintly wishing you could sink inside the earth and disappear.

Satisfaction illuminates his features.

“So I’m your first.” He caresses your arm. You will yourself still, despite the itch to run away searing through you like a hot knife. His voice lowers to a husky whisper. “I wish you’d see I’m not your enemy, birdie.”

He then shocks you. Layer by layer, Coriolanus starts to shed every part of his peacekeeper uniform. Every piece of clothing falls into a heap on the floor that melds with yours.

When he peels off his boxers, your throat dries. He’s thick and long, just as you remember. Apprehension settles within you. His eyes lock with yours. “Do I look like your enemy right now?” he mumbles. Your pulse picks up as he approaches you. Your gaze drifts everywhere and nowhere, your breath caged in your lungs.

“I don’t know.”

“Do I scare you?”

“Yes.”

His mouth slants crookedly.

“But not in the way you wished, right?”

You gawk at him, wide-eyed and dry-mouthed.

The courage to answer never finds its way into your heart. Coriolanus’ lips however find their way onto yours. At first, the kiss is soft and firm. Cradling your face, he sweeps his mouth over yours without haste. Meticulously slow. As if he wishes to commit your taste to memory.

He nudges you backwards onto the bed. When your back collides with the mattress, his mouth turns more ravenous. His tongue explores the roof of your mouth while his hands wander lower, kneading at your curves. Your head spins. You keen against his tongue as a sick twinge of something you won’t name flickers in your core.

When his mouth parts from yours, you’re both equally breathless, his warm breath mingling with yours. You find yourself almost longing for the heady feeling. Almost. The blond smiles down at your dazed expression.

He traces your jaw with his thumb.

“You can scream as much as you like, you know? No one will come to your rescue.”

“I won’t scream,” you say, defiance igniting your gaze.

“Oh but you will,” he replies with confidence. His mouth ghosts over your earshell. “You’re all mine tonight, pretty bird.” His mouth tugs upwards. “And I plan on making you beg for it before the morning comes.”

As if to emphasize his point, he slithers down your body. The entire time, he corrals your gaze, his blue eyes shimmering in the darkness. He wedges himself between your thighs, meeting only meek resistance as he pushes them apart. 

Coriolanus appraises your slick folds. He drags a finger alongside your slit, mirth lighting up his face. 

“Already so wet for me, birdie,” he says.

Your face heats. You could try to contradict him but the evidence is right there between your legs. Impossible to escape or deny. You are sinfully, embarrassingly wet in front of the peacekeeper.

“I-”

Brazenness melts off your tongue when he presses his lips to your core. He feasts on your weeping folds, his unyielding fingers keeping you placid and open. His tongue teases your tender nub, drawing torturous patterns. Your muscles tighten. The air in your lungs rushes in and out faster as Coriolanus’ tragically skilled tongue sends zings of shameful pleasure through your spine. 

Meticulous and slow, he takes his time to taste you. Every second he spends unraveling you is the most sensual torture.

Your trembling fingers claw at the sheets, your eyes rolling back. You glance down. A peculiar tingle dances through your belly when you catch sight of the blond’s head bobbing between your thighs. Despite your center aching for release, you fight the urge to buck your hips into his mouth and seek more of the delectable contact. He sucks your swollen clit between his lips, pushing his tongue between your folds. You gulp down a sharp scream. Waves of pleasures sweep through your frame. Your lids flutter as your stomach tightens. A painful tension settles in your limbs, heat gathering in your core.

For a long time, you try to stay quiet. You bite yourself hard enough to draw blood as you muffle every whimper and moan struggling to break past the confines of your lips. 

Coriolanus makes his way up your body, his index and middle finger replacing his tongue. Quick exhales burst from your chest as you peer at him through your hazy vision.

“I want to hear you, birdie,” he rasps, his fingers catching on your bottom lip, forcing your mouth open. He sinks a finger inside you. Your chest lifts, brushing against his. When the digit hooks between your slick walls, grazing against your sensitive spot, you unleash a loud squeal.

The blond smiles.

“There. So much better.”

He sneaks another finger inside your core, stretching you even more. Unused to the feeling, you whine and grip a fistful of the sheets. He pumps inside you, finding a steady rhythm that has you twitching beneath him. The broken moans spilling from your tongue mingle with the wet sounds your cunt makes as he explores you with his fingers.

Embarrassment is slowly nudged aside by the storm of delectable sensations growing inside you.

The heel of his hand keeps grazing against your swollen button, eliciting spikes of pleasure through your flesh.

His forehead rests against yours, his feathery lashes falling to half-mast as he whispers,

“Come for me, birdie.”

Your breathing accelerates, his words propelling you closer to your peak. You clench around his fingers. Your legs tense. Warm tingles swirl across your flesh as your back arches. 

A lightning bolt of pleasure passes through you, quick and intense. For a few seconds, not a thought occupies your mind. You are nothing but a million nerve endings on fire.

Your boneless frame crashes over the sheets.

“Good girl,” he praises, his smile expanding. His fingers pull out of you and he brings them to his lips. You watch, sickly fascinated as he dips them into his mouth, reveling in your taste. He hums in appreciation. Your face warms. He then places those same digits over your own lips, forcing you to taste yourself. He bends over you, peppering sluggish kisses in the crook of your neck. His hand splays over your heaving chest, his thumb rubbing your nipples until they pebble under his touch. His lips trail lower on your body. 

He pauses, looming over you. Hands on each side of you, Coriolanus lines his tip with your entrance. Your eyes widen in surprise. You squirm and try to scoot away, panic rushing through you. 

He yanks you back on the bed with ease, his body pinning yours onto the mattress. When you reach for his face, hoping to land a blow, he snatches your wrists and slams them above your head.

He scoffs, “So feisty, even to the bitter end.”

Your breath falters when his thick tip stretches you open. Even that single inch of him feels like too much. Rapid breaths burst from your fluttering chest.

Tears quiver beneath your lashes.

“It hurts…”

He pushes until he’s halfway inside you. Pain shoots through you as you sob.

The tears spill. He releases one of your wrists to fondle your cheek.

“Shh, it’s okay, pretty bird. I’ve got you.” 

He shoves inside you until he grazes your hilt. Your lips part in a quiet scream, your vision flickering. For a while, Coriolanus remains still, giving you time to accommodate his thick girth. He starts moving, his thrusts slow and deep. The longer he fucks you, the more the pain morphs into something else. Something not entirely unpleasant, albeit a little terrifying. The aching stretch becomes tantalizing, your wet walls clinging to his length every time it drags against your soft spots. Little whimpers leave your throat as you cling to his bicep.

Coriolanus’ hand wraps around your jaw.

“Focus on me and only me,” he instructs.

Your eyes dive into his. Flames dance in his cobalt orbs. He smiles, his thumb sweeping  over your bottom lip.

“Such an obedient girl.”

“How does it feel now?” he grunts. You note the sweat glistening over his bare muscles, dotting at his brow. His exhales are more strained now, matching yours. 

You keen at a sharp snap of his pelvis into yours. He picks up the pace, bending one of your thighs against your chest to thrust as far as his cock will go. Your toes curl, blissful shivers creeping their way up your spine. 

“Awful,” you wheeze out. 

He snickers. “You’re a horrible liar, birdie.”

You sense him nearing the cusp of his pleasure. His cock twitches between your walls and you plead, panicked, “Corio…Coriolanus…not inside, please.”

A crooked grin spreads on his lips. 

“But wouldn’t it be wonderful, if I left you something to remember me by.”

You shudder, shaking your head. “No…”

He slips his fingers between your joined bodies, drawing a long moan from you when he starts rubbing your pulsing clit. He plays with your tender bud until you cry out. You come apart around him, slick walls hugging him snugly as he shoots his thick seed inside you. 

Dread settles in your bones, piercing through the haze of delight. You tremble as the stickiness trickles alongside your walls.

He lets out a throaty sigh, trapping you underneath him so you can’t move. 

“Yes,” he breathes out, burying his head in the crook of your neck. Your mouth opens in shock as another tear traces a blazing path down your cheek. He scatters bruising kisses along the column of your neck. His cruel words sear into your flesh. “That way you can never forget you were mine before anyone else, birdie.”

You awake with a start, bruised and sore, in the massive bed. Your glance darts around, confusing filling you as you tuck the blanket against your frame. Your shoulders sag. You note faint sunlight pouring through the crimson curtains. All the candles from last night have been blown out. 

It’s the next day. You are alone. You shiver at the sight of the rumpled sheets, glimpses from the night before seeping through your mind. Coriolanus kept true to his word and made you sing for him the entire night. He was relentless and didn’t stop until you passed out from pleasure. In fact, you were so exhausted, you can’t pinpoint the moment he left. You simply recall him cooing soft praises in your ear as he had his way with you for the last time. 

For a moment, you held some fear that he would never leave, since he was so hellbent on making you come around him as many times in a row as he could.

What terrifies you most however, is that last night wasn’t terrible. Not entirely. Or not in the way you pictured at least. Heat creeps up in your cheeks at the thought. 

You clamber off the bed, wincing at the aching stiffness of your limbs. You collect your clothes and begin to dress. You’re eager to leave the room. It stinks of sex and shameful mistakes. 

As you climb down the stairs, the madam greets you with a wiggle of her fingers. You bristle, shame glowing inside your chest. 

She bends over the wooden handrail, her cleavage threatening to spill out of her dress.

“He said you were free to stay in the room to rest for the entire day if you wished. Paid in full before he left.”

“I don’t want to stay.” 

You hasten your pace to reach the exit faster.

She stops you in your tracks, a mischievous grin dancing on her lips.

“So the pretty boy didn’t tire you out then?” She tilts her head and pouts. “Pity. I imagined him to be a more…zealous lover.”

Your cheeks flame as you rush out of the brothel. You can’t get back home fast enough. 

You need a shower expeditiously. Never before have you longed for the freezing cold spray to hit your skin so badly.

You return home to at least a month’s worth of supplies and medicine in several bags. 

There’s even candy for your cousin, the same he brought her last time. Your cousin’s overjoyed, of course, but you remind her not to overindulge. 

Nothing else accompanies them. No letter. No card. You should feel happy at that, you surmise. Finally, you are free to live life on your own terms, return to your routine. 

Part of you is a little stunned by it however, and perhaps expect the peacekeeper to not be truly gone. For days, you keep wondering if he’ll materialize from a dark corner or surprise you as you stroll down a dank alleyway. 

None of that occurs. Still, it takes weeks for your blood not to chill anymore at the sight of a peacekeeper. After a month of tranquil, humdrum days, you’re forced to admit it. Coriolanus has granted you the peace he promised.

Your chest is a little lighter as you head to the factory everyday. You even start smiling again, which Yara and Tilly keep teasing you about.

But you can’t help it. No more feeling scared or confused. No more eyes trailing your every move. You’re relieved, happy. Life in district 8 may sometimes be uncertain but, at least, you hold your destiny in your hands once more.

Blessed freedom. Finally.

So you let yourself relax. Over time, the terror gripping your gut melts away. The tightness in your chest eases. 

Your mind is so at ease that you don’t notice the shadow creeping behind you on your way out of the factory. It’s too late when you do. 

A black cloth is shoved over your head as you turn a street corner. You’re hauled off your feet and dragged into a dim alley. Your heart races, panic flooding you as you’re tossed into the back of a vehicle. 

The engine roars to life. Every question you ask is ignored, your kidnappers frustratingly silent. You wonder if you’ll die or be sold off to traffickers. You’ve heard of district girls disappearing sometimes, the kind no one will miss or ask too many questions about. 

They often end up in sordid places. You’ve heard the stories. Some could end up in the mines, in shady brothels or even wind up as an Avox maid with their tongues cut off. Chills swirl over your skin. 

Is it to be your fate? Being carted off to some hellish place and worked to death? 

The car stops. Your pulse soars. Quick breaths pour from your mouth as you’re roughly carried to some other place. You struggle, trying to kick your assailant. You land a blind strike and hear a curse. You make a run for it, your blood singing wildly. 

It’s pathetic the swiftness with which you’re caught, as if your attempt meant nothing. 

You’re shoved into a box. As the slamming of a hammer surrounds you, sealing your fate, you begin to sob. You used to think you were just born in the wrong place, unlucky, like so many others. Now you’re starting to believe you are cursed.

Shivers wrack your frame as the box is lifted. Your stomach lurches. The entire trip is a nightmare. Dread grips you tight as questions crowd your mind about who’s taking you and why. After a while, you realize you’re on a train. Your terror swells. 

You’re being moved out of District 8. You haven’t left your district since birth. For better or worse, this was your home.

After an awful, rambunctious journey, the box is finally opened. You hear grunting above you as the lid of the box is pried open. 

The bag over your head is removed and you take in a lungful of clean air. Strong arms hoist you out of the box. You clumsily stumble to your feet. 

You whirl. 

An audible breath skips off your tongue as you take in who stands before you. He looks so different. No more peacekeeper uniform. No more buzzcut.

“Coriolanus?” you gasp.

He smiles. “Hi, birdie.” A wave of snow engulfs your veins.

He sweeps a hand over his silver curls, sounding almost bashful.

“Do you like it? I’m trying to grow it out again.”

Ignoring him, you peer at your surroundings. The white room has a vaulted glass ceiling that allows sunlight in. The pearly marble tiles are pristine. Other than that, you only find one opening. A small door on the other side. You scuttle across the room to reach it. 

The door knob shakes but doesn’t give. Still, you insist, your desperation growing. Your heart sinks as you glance down at the tiny keyhole in the door. 

Coriolanus’ deep voice approaches from behind you. 

“This is a locked cell, pretty bird,” he explains. “And I’m the only one with the key. Dr. Gaul uses it for her more…feral experiments. But she’s granted me permission to use it for an experiment of my own.”

You whip around. “Dr. Gaul?” 

You feign interest, hoping to distract him, having noted the tiny golden key dangling from his neck. Coriolanus catches you looking at it and smirks. “My mentor. Don’t worry. I’ll walk you through everything. I’m sure you’ll fit right in over time.”

He inches closer and you stagger backwards. 

“W-Why am I here?”

Instead of being offended by your attempts to shy away from him, the blond seems mildly amused, studying you as he paces around the room.

“I couldn’t let my sweet bird wither away in a filthy district, of course. I belong in the Capitol, and you belong to me.”

You gape at him. While you knew him to be some entitled rich kid from the Capitol, you never imagined he’d take it this far. Steal you away like you’re some shiny object that struck his fancy at the marketplace. Not a person with a life and desires of their own.

“You’re insane,” you hiss.

His mouth twitches, marking the first hint of displeasure at your reaction.

“We’ll have to work on that coarse mouth of yours. It will not stand here.” His tone grows chillier. “Here in the Capitol, we have discipline, order.”

“Let me go,” you shout, lunging yourself at him. You attempt to tackle him and grab the key from his neck. Unleashing a sigh of annoyance, Coriolanus seizes your wrist and twists it with hardly any effort. The sickening sound of bones snapping lands in your ears. He throws you on the floor, kicking your side for good measure. You keel over the tiles, cradling your throbbing wrist against your chest.

Coriolanus shakes his head as he considers your curling frame on the floor.

“Look what you’re making me do, sweet bird. As I’ve said, your uncouth District wench ways will not stand here. You’re going to behave…” He hunkers down before whispering, “Unless you never want to see your cousin again.”

Your head snaps up, tears filling your eyes.

“She needs me. Coriolanus, please-”

“She will be cared for. There’s a very nice orphanage south of the Capitol, one for all the children who lost their homes in the war.” He beams at you. “She’s being transported there as we speak.”

“Oh my god…”

“You want to see her again? It’s all up to you, birdie.” A slow, wicked smirk blooms on his lips. “...Or perhaps she would fare well as the District 8 tribute for the 11th Hunger Games. She may be a little young…but at least she’d increase viewership.”

“You can’t do that,” you protest, your lip quaking as tears skip over your cheeks.

A dark chuckle leaves him.

“I can and I will. You see, birdie, the world isn’t fair.” He cocks his head. “No one cares about innocent children dying. Hell, I was kicked, beaten and starved so many times during the war, I lost count. No one cared.” His blue eyes turn icier as they meet yours. “The world…it’s an arena. You’re either a predator, or you’re prey.” He lifts his hand to cup your cheek. A gesture that’d be almost tender if the words spilling from his mouth weren’t so cruel. “It’s best to just embrace your role.”

He caresses your tear-stained cheek.

“So will you be my sweet, obedient girl?”

As you sink in his empty blue gaze, a sense of defeat cloaks your frame. You come to realize, you were never meant to come out unscathed from meeting Coriolanus Snow, never meant to win. The fire in his eyes is the kind that burns all standing in its path.

There is no getting away. If you survived him, you’d be lucky.

Your chin trembles as you reply meekly, “Y-Yes, Coriolanus.”

His lips brush over yours before he gets to his feet, satisfaction glowing on his handsome features.

“Wonderful. I can’t wait for you to meet everyone, birdie.”

[echos-castle]

hi sweetheart 💛 these are just a few little reminders for you

🌻please take your medicine if you need to, you gotta make sure you stay as healthy as you can!

🌻 please try to eat something, even if it's just a little bit

🌻 please drink some water, you can even drink it in a sippy cup or with a fun straw if that makes it easier!

🌻 take a second to stretch, especially if you've been sitting for a while. your body can get cramped up and stiff if you haven't moved in a bit.

🌻 do something that makes you happy! even if it's something as small as looking at a cute video or going for a walk or sending someone a message!

i hope you have a wonderful day, little one. and remember, im so proud of you!

[rillils]

There were times, back then, when Steve was sure he wasn’t going to pull through.

When the fever had consumed him for days, and the breath burned thick in the back of his throat, and Steve felt himself slip too close to the dark place that lived behind his eyelids, across the threshold of his consciousness.

Death, he thought: hovering like a loving mother at his side.

He could feel it, like a cold whisper gusting against his skin, chilling him with words of warning. Soon, it said; and Steve was too weak to do anything but lie there and listen.

He tried to tell Bucky once, drifting out of a delirious sleep.

“If… if death came tomorrow...”

“You’d punch him in the face,” Bucky shushed him softly, carding his fingers through Steve’s hair. The healthy warmth of his hand felt nearly cool against the fevered heat of Steve’s skin, and Steve leaned blindly into the soothing touch, sighing his relief as Bucky’s knuckles stroked his cheek.

Bucky. The world seemed to be fading at the edges, like a sheet of paper burning from the outside in, curling ash-black and falling away piece by piece; but Bucky was still there.

Bucky was made of gentleness and sound, sweet like the sweet nothings he poured in Steve’s ear when Steve slept fitfully, swept into his feverish haze and lost to the world for hours on end.

Bucky was touch: an anchor. Bucky was color, familiar and dependable, like the blue of the sky, the yellow heart of daisies, the stain-black of charcoal.

Steve glimpsed the downturned corners of his mouth, his lovely lovely mouth, red like ripe apples. Steve had dreamed of kissing it once. Twice. Every other night.

Bucky’s cheeks were so pale. His eyes looked so tired, circled by the bruise-like purple of his skin.

He hadn’t been sleeping, Steve knew. Steve had been sleeping, though – he’d stolen Bucky’s share of it while his body burned up from the inside.

“Buck,” Steve rasped, his voice thin and crusty, like plaster peeling off the wall. “If... if I go...”

Bucky shook his head, one curl coming loose from the once careful sweep of his hair. His pretty lips quirked up, a slip of a smile found so easily like he’d rehearsed it a dozen times before.

“Nah. You’re not going anywhere,” he said, collecting Steve’s hand to cradle it in both of his.

Steve’s head lolled sleepily on his pillow, lured by the sound of Bucky’s trembling voice.

“Buck.”

“Shh. You’re staying right here, where I– where I can keep an eye on ya.”

Silence spilled in the room, just for a moment – the space of a sniffle, of a soft, shivery exhale.

“Gotta make sure you don’t get into trouble, don’t I?”

One of Bucky’s hands left him briefly, and when it enveloped him again, there was a wetness there; one little drop trickling from the bridge of his finger, to land cool on Steve’s skin.

“Just. Just like I promised.”

And Steve knew then.

If Death did come; if it seized his wrist with its bone-thin fingers and bade him to follow, Now, child, it is time, Steve would say: No. He’s not ready.

He would think of the apple-red mouth he had never kissed yet, save for in his dreams; of the love he hadn’t quite begun to shape into words. He’d think of the life he’d only just caught a glimpse of, stretched far on the road ahead of him, twined with Bucky’s own as they reached into the future, together. Simply. Always.

No, Steve would tell Death. He’s not ready.

And neither am I.

[astrophileous]

currently i just keep thinking of derek talking to little bug while bug is still pregnant and bug thinking it's hilarious but also adorable

OMFG yesss hear me out, I personally think derek persuades bug to move in with him as soon as she comes out of the hospital because her place is trashed during the investigation of her kidnapping (at least that was the excuse derek gave, even tho everyone knows he just wants her around 24/7) and since THAT FIRST NIGHT he's been doing this

Love Bugs Masterlist / Criminal Minds Masterlist

You awoke to the sound of gentle whispers against your stomach.

This wasn't the first time that it had happened. You had been waking up in the middle of the night to Derek murmuring things to your belly. The first time it occurred, you kept your eyes shut throughout the whole thing, discreetly listening to the conversation Derek was having with the baby. At first, you thought the whole ordeal was a one-time occurrence, until it had happened again the next night, and the next night, and the next night after that.

This time, it was no different.

"Hey, Little Bug," Derek said softly. "Just checking in. How ya doin'?"

You clenched your jaw to keep the laughter at bay.

Waves of cool air from the AC flowed against the skin of your abdomen, courtesy of Derek rolling your night shirt up to expose the bump that had grown even bigger in the last couple of weeks. You could feel his large hands cupping your belly, seemingly trying to coax a movement from the baby despite Spencer previously telling him that he wouldn't feel anything for at least another month.

"I'm just making sure you're doing okay in there," Derek continued. "Now, I know you've been through a lot for such a small bug, and I know it wasn't easy what you've gone through. But I just wanna say how proud I am that you held your ground through it all."

Your heart stirred at Derek's statement.

"Stay strong and healthy in there, Little Bug. Just gotta hang on there for a few more months and you'll be out in the world. Once you're here, I promise, you won't need to fight for anything else 'cause I'll do that for you. There's a whole lotta people here who can't wait to meet you. Me and your Mama, we can't wait to meet you. So you hang on tight, alright?"

Derek peppered dozens of tiny kisses on your belly. The scracthy sensation of his stubble made your abdomen constrict involuntarily.

"You know," Derek's voice suddenly erupted, "it's rude to eavesdrop in a private conversation."

You opened your eyes to see Derek staring mischievously right at you.

"As long as this baby is still inside of me, privacy is sadly a privilege you can't have, Derek."

Your reply earned an impish grin from him.

"You hear that, Little Bug? That's your Mama for you. A very sneaky--"

"Hey!"

"--impatient--"

"You know I can hear you, right?"

"--and hot-headed woman. But God, if she isn't the most gorgeous thing I've ever seen."

A stealthy smile slipped onto your lips. "You're trying to sweet talk me, Derek?"

"I'm tryna teach our child to appreciate their Mama's beauty." Derek grinned.

Unable to resist the flutters in your stomach anymore, you pulled Derek closer with the collar of his T-shirt before connecting your lips in a deep kiss. His hand creeped up your waist with a touch that burned your body to its core. When the two of you finally pulled apart for air, the fire you saw inside Derek's eyes was unmistakable.

"Hey, Little Bug," Derek said, bending himself down so he was leveled with your belly once more. "I'll get back to you in a sec, yeah? Me and your Mama got some important business to attend to."

[itsmealaiah]

Headcanons of bill with a twaekwondo! reader

Contains: nsfw and sfw headcanons, profanity, implied smut, light bdsm, she/her pronouns, AFAB reader, some smut, p in v sex

Request by @bkaulitzlover: Do you think you could write about Billy with a tkd girly?Just cuz I do tkd and thought of it.It could be anything tho,I don’t have much details so sorry.If you can’t or don’t want to that’s fine dw

I haven't done headcanons in a little while so i might be rusty 😔

Sfw:

first, and foremost, he'd always go to every single one of your matches, and he would always try to make time for you. It wouldn't matter if he's busy or not, he will support you.

He'd help you learn new things if you're struggling with them, he has a pair of gloves that he'll use to practice with you.

You guys always cuddle after a match, win or lose. He'd be rubbing your back, whispering sweet nothings into your ear as you cry. "i-i thought i was gonna win billy" you whimper. "shh, you'll win the next one, I know it. Those refs were stupid"

Tom would stay far away from you, and he wouldn't tease you. He was scared of getting kicked 😭

Same with bill, when you guys would fight, he wouldn't go anywhere near you.

You wouldn't smoke or anything, and for good reason. You had to keep your body healthy and in shape, so bill would always smoke when he wasn't near you.

You introduced him to a lot of different foods, mainly healthy stuff. You didn't eat junk food much, and bill was surprised to say the least. "Not even doritos?" He gasped the first time he heard this. "not even doritios, that stuff isn't good for you, y'know"

You'd sometimes lecture him on eating junk food, and you would take it away. You'd replace it with something actually good for his body, not just his tastebuds.

Nsfw:

He's such a tease. He's whispering in your ear after you win a match, telling you all the dirty things he'd like to do to you when you get home.

You doing twaekwondo is even better. You are pretty flexible, so you can do any position bill wants with ease, and he loves it.

He'd tie you up with your belt, for sure. You'd always tell him to be careful with it, but he doesn't care. "you're doing so well in that class, you'll have a new one in no time, so it doesn't matter, does it?" he'd whisper in your ear, rocking into you slowly.

It would also be a blindfold sometimes. You gotta make the most of it cmon.

Sometimes, if you're into it, you'd have sex when you lose. He wouldn't force it onto you, and he would only do it if you weren't miserable or crying.

He's such a sweetheart though. He takes his time making love to you. He hates quickies, he prefers hours of long, meaningful sex instead of coming and being done.

He would put his all into being gentle when you lose. He doesn't want to hurt you anymore than you already are.

The belt would also be used for him sometimes when you top. Occasionally, he'd be too tired from a concert so you'd ride him or sit on his face, the belt wrapped tightly around his eyes.

He's very vocal in bed, especially when eating you out. "s'fucking good, love this pussy so much" he would moan into your cunt, his hands on both your hips.

He loves watching you come, it's just his personal thing. Something about your walls squeezing around him gets him so turned on.

Because you're so strong, you can literally just flip you both over with ease, and it shocks him everytime.

"shit, you could've atleast given me a warning baby" he would chuckle. "but that takes all the fun out of it" you'd smirk.

Taglist 1: @madzandmore @20doozers @cosmicck @itsangelll @tomssexdoll

Taglist 2: @tokio-motel @estxkios @ccbunnv @tomsonlyslut @kqulitzlvr

Taglist 3; @roseroseluvrr @ballhair @cherry-rawr @tomkaulitzsjuicyballs @billsdolliest

Taglist 4; @rvzcvx @tvkiohvtel @kieraisupset @bkaulitzlover

Comment on masterlist post to be tagged!

Requests are open! keep sending them in!

[sapphic-agent]

So, a Kataang fan made a post about a week ago "asking" (rhetorically, of course) why it's a bad thing Katara acts like Aang's mom. And I just-

First of all, isn't that something that Kataang shippers have been trying to actively dispute for almost two decades at this point? That Katara doesn't treat Aang as a younger brother/son? There's literally an entire post about it from The Headband that's made its rounds on almost every single social media platform.

So which is it, besties? Does Katara act motherly towards Aang or not?

(The answer is yes of course, as The Runaway outright confirms it multiple times. The whole premise of that episode is that Katata acts as a mother to Toph, Sokka, and Aang)

Now, why is it a problem? The fact that I have to explain this is telling for how little a lot of Kataang shippers understand Katara.

Katara was parentified. She took care of Sokka (by his own admission) as well as her entire village after Hakoda left. Even before then really, as she says in the very first episode that she's been doing all the chores around the village since their mother died which was years before that. She was delivering literal babies while basically being a baby herself.

Traveling- and being- with Aang is supposed to represent her freedom and childhood, right? That's what the first episode shows us and what Kataang is built on. But if anything, it has the opposite effect.

Book 1 wasn't terrible. Katara was very free-spirited and joyful in addition to being caring and empathetic. Her and Aang could still goof off together, even if she was doing her best to support him emotionally. You could easily see that as her being a good friend.

But somewhere between Books 2 and 3, that changed. Katara went from being his supportive friend to being his emotional crutch. During The Desert, she bears the brunt of him lashing out (he does yell at Toph once, but he's the most volatile with Katara). He also gets frustrated with her during Sozin's Comet, even though Zuko and Sokka were the ones pushing him. It's always Katara who has to bring him back when he loses control of the Avatar State, risking her own safety.

(This isn't emotional, but it was Katara who healed Aang after Azula's attack. She was the one who stayed by his side, staying awake for hours to make sure he would be okay. I like to look at it as a physical representation of their relationship. Aang's wellbeing is always put on her shoulders. If she isn't there to lift him up, he'll fall. And if he falls, the world falls. No 14 year old should be responsible for that. But it's so easy for the show- and y'all- to shove it onto her because this part of her character is never addressed. It's just used as a testament to her caring nature)

Even without Katara's parentification, this causes a major imbalance in their relationship. It puts Katara in charge of managing Aang's pain and being emotionally unsupported in return. The Southern Raiders is proof that Katara can't depend on Aang emotionally the way he does her. She's been his shoulder to cry on through everything and the one time the tables turned, she couldn't even get that from him.

And the saddest thing about this? Katara says to him, "I knew you wouldn't understand." She never expected Aang to support her. She's become so accustomed to being there for others that she's never once expected anyone to do the same for her, least of all Aang.

(But Zuko does. He's the only one who recognized Katara's pain- admittedly, mostly because it was directed at him- and tried to help her. Without being prompted. I gotta give this one to the Zutara folks)

In what world is this dynamic healthy for a romantic relationship?

[fredwkong]

Himbo Maker: Jean

Jean was deep into muscle. Ever since he’d been the smallest kid in his class every year in school, he’d felt an intense need to someday become the kind of guy who could really dominate a room with his body.

However, even as an adult, he was still a little guy. He’d tried for years, but no matter what, his dark-skinned body stayed slender. So instead, he spent all his free time on forums dedicated to muscle growth, living vicariously through the experiences of others as they gained muscle and posted pictures.

One day he received an unusual message request from another guy on the forum. He’d never seen him in the threads before, but his username was Himbo_mkr so Jean assumed he was probably here for roleplay.

Techie_jean: Hey man. What’s up?

Himbo_mkr: Not much bro. Just been chilling and looking at pix of muscley dudes. I noticed you don’t make many posts. You good?

Techie_jean: Guess I’ve just never done the smart thing and gotten myself a plan.

Himbo_mkr: Brah, you don’t need a plan! I can help you get big in just a few minutes! Wanna give it a shot?

Jean chuckled. Yep, this guy was looking for some roleplay. He looked around his room. Well, it wasn’t like he had anything else to do this afternoon but play video games and build some Gundam. He may as well have some fun with this guy first.

Techie_jean: Sure! What do I have to do first?

Himbo_mkr: The first thing you gotta do is get dumb, bro! Muscles aren’t made with smarts, you need to have nothing in your brain but flexing, eating, and fucking to really build hot muscle.

Straight to the point, huh! Jean was about to type a message in character as a dummy when he felt a tingling in his head. His brain suddenly felt like it was full of cotton, he was having trouble putting thoughts together. Slowly, he made his fingers move. He had to really focus to string the words together.

Techie_jean: Bro… What’s happenin to me?

Himbo_mkr: You’re getting dumb, bro! When a guy gets really serious about getting big muscles, the power to do it comes from all of his useless brains! The smarter he was at the start, the bigger and dumber he ends up.

Jean… supposed that made sense? He couldn’t figure out how this guy could be wrong. He wasn’t really the smartest guy, after all. He scratched his head and looked around his room. It was like it was changing before his eyes, but that couldn’t be right either. No more video games, just a pile of gay muscle pornos. His gundam and other dolls replaced with sex toys and gear that he used to show off his skinny little body. Jean was definitely not smart by any means.

Dummy_jean: Yeah bro, I’m pretty stupid. What were we talkin about?

Himbo_mkr: Getting you swole, huhuhu! Now that you’ve drained your useless brain, your muscles are gonna get huge, bro! You’re a big thick muscle bro!

Jean gasped as an indescribable warm sensation overtook his whole body. With a crack, his back, arms, and legs extended, making him a towering beanpole of a man. His muscles started to vibrate, and then expand. His legs jerked as his quads and then his hamstrings inflated, and were quickly balanced by a thick, jiggly muscle ass. His pecs burst forth from his chest to form a sturdy shelf, and then his back thickened along with his lats, belly, and growing arms.

Looking around, Jean took in the changing space. There was a new dent in his dirty mattress from his huge body, and a weight bench and rack in the corner. Of course, he had to lift all day every day to keep up his bulk. The walls and ceiling were covered in pictures of all Jean’s favourite bodybuilders, his inspiration and his jerk material.

Dumbro_jean: Whoa, bruh, my muscles are gettin huge!

Himbo_mkr: That’s not all, bro! That thick Quebecois cock of yours is keeping up too!

Quebecois? Jean was a bit dumb, sure, but he was pretty sure he’d grown up in Atlanta… Quebec City, right. His dick lengthened and lightened at the same time, and the pale skin tone rushed over his still-growing body. A healthy layer of fat followed, leaving him looking absolutely enormous. Above the blond behemoth’s bed, a Quebec flag unfurled on the wall, showing his national pride.

Jean could barely remember who he’d been before. He knew he’d been smaller… smarter? He’d been American. The idea that he’d so quickly become this huge pale Quebecois stud had him grunting and palming his dick. Soon he was close, cursing quietly in his deep new Quebecois accent.

QC_jean: Calisse, bro, gonna cum!

Himbo_mkr: Yeah brah! Shoot that musky hockey bro load.

Hell yeah! Jean grabbed a used athletic jock that had just appeared next to him. He remembered: he’d worn it for practice this morning, and it was still warm and wet with his sweat. He loved being on the ice, and being around a whole team of big, dumb, sweaty Quebecois hockey players meant he was always leaking in his jock. He held the pouch up to his nose to inhale the musk of his sweat and precum permeating the jock.

His whole room was ripe with used hockey bro gear. Jean hated cleaning any of his equipment while he was on a points streak, and it’d been a few weeks since he’d failed to score in a game. The hockey stuff scattered on the floor was ripe with stale sweat. Being a hockey bro was so fucking hot.

Jean’s thick cock unleashed a torrent of cum as he continued to curse in Quebecois. When he came down, he gave himself a sniff and looked back at his battered old laptop. It was only good for porn and surfing forums, but a bro like him didn’t need it for anything else.

Right now, the browser was open to one of his favourite sports jock forums. He had a post all ready to go, a pic of him after the last game, half undressed in his sweaty gear with his hair stuck to his face, looking like a perfect dumb hockey bro. Quickly, Jean also snapped a picture of his spent dick and sent it to his friend.

Hockey_jean: Include this too?

Himbo_mkr: Definitely, bro! You love showing off your hockey himbo body.

Yeah, this guy was right about everything. No one loved to show off that he was a hot hockey bro for the bros more than Jean.

Inspired by a chat with a bot of my own creation. Format inspired by Codename: Bear_mkr by @biggerchanger

[silvervioletvalentine]

-Heaven help a fool in love-

Pairing : oscar Piastri x fem OC Bee

Summary : in which Oscar is a certified , terrified , glorified simp for Bee . His teammate who scares the hell out of him.

Warnings - none? Bee is a little mean , mean girl vibes but mainly fluff . Just simp Oscar and bad ass Bee. - first time writing again in months so I’m just trying to get back into it, don’t really think this is any good but gotta start somewhere right? :))))))))

Oscar felt like he was going to be sick. His stomach tossing and turning , hands shaking and feeling like he was the epitome of that Eminem song . Knees weak , moms spaghetti and everything .

I mean, it couldn’t be very healthy for him to feel this way.

He panicked , eyes darting around the room , too scared to even look at the woman that was causing him all of these sickening emotions .

Was it possible to be going paler and redder at the same time? He touched the back of his fingers to his burning cheeks and fought back a wince , maybe he was dying .

Death by intimidation of the most beautiful (scary) woman he had ever seen in his life .

The anxious pit in his stomach had only been growing since he had been informed of just who would be his new teammate would be this year . Her name ringing like a siren in his head as he wondered if this was a dream come true or a nightmare coming to reality .

A dream in the fact of this was everything a guy like him could wish for , a successful , amazingly talented driver who already was on the road to becoming one of the best , joining him as his teammate .

And a nightmare in the way that this could not end well for him. He was so sure of it . Based on the very limited , few times he had already spoken to her in the past , he was going to humiliate himself and make her think that there was something wrong with him.

Not being able to mutter more than a mouthful of strained and stammered words to her like he was a fresh teenager talking to a girl for the first time ever.

Was it hot in this room? Oscar pulled at his tightening collar anxiously , sweating profusely. Or was he perhaps having a heart attack?

He accidentally glanced across the table and caught eyes with Bee , the woman causing his feelings of imminent death and swallowed hard.

Bee was so beautiful but just so intimidating to him. With dirty blonde hair and sharp green eyes, cheek bones that could cut his skin and lips that had no right looking the way they did ..as the kids these days say, her face card never ever declined .

And then there was her tattoos , a body of art everywhere . Covering her arms , her legs , her stomach and chest . Every part of her skin that he caught a glimpse of was like a work of literal art for him to gaze at . And then there was the glittering piercings too, on her nose , her eyebrow , ears covered in diamonds and hoops .

She was a dream.

A beautiful dream but then she opened her mouth and Oscar was like a teenage boy all over again.

Because Bee was loud and rude and quite frankly mean. Judgemental and not afraid to express her opinion , she had gathered quite the reputation for herself . The complete opposite of Oscar’s quite and mellow personality , she was wild and free .

And it scared him because how was he supposed to mount up to anything in her eyes? He knew that she must of thought of him as some meek weirdo who couldn’t even look her in the eye for more than a second at a time without stammering like a little kid. But he just couldn’t help it.

He was mesmerised by all that she was . But he was also terrified of her too because he had seen how mean and how quick to anger she could be and he did not want to be on the wrong side of her , ever . No thank you.

They couldn’t have been more different and it upset him because he wanted her to like him , so badly .

But then he thought about how that one time she had asked him what he did on their break and he had quietly told her that he had just stayed at home , enjoying the peace and quite .

To which she had paused , nodded and casually told him that she had jumped out of a plane for fun. And that was the end of that conversation because what else could he have even said that a meek “cool.”

He must have seemed so lame to Bee and it made all of these nauseating feelings even worse.

I mean for gods sake , why couldn’t he have gotten a crush on someone a little less likely to kill him if he even so much as stepped out of line?

A loud clearing of a throat snapped him out of his panicking and in a daze he noticed that the room was already clearing out , eyes widening in shock at how long he had dissociated in panic for.

Then his heart dropped even further in his stomach as he turned his head to see who was wanting his attention , only to see Bee’s expectant eyes sharpening at him.

“Oh.” He breathed out in shock “hi.” He barely hid the grimace at how Pathetic he sounded then. Swallowing and shoving his trembling hands into his hoodie pocket .

Bee nodded at him a little skeptically , still eyeing him like there was something wrong with him.

“Hey. Are you okay? You looked a little spaced out there . Everything good?” She wondered , eyeing his red cheeks with a slight frown.

She wondered why he acted this way around her . From what she had seen, Oscar was always calm and friendly with the other drivers but to her he was always a little …stiff . Withdrawn, almost scared?

She tried to think back to remember if she had ever done or said anything to the Australian that could have him shaking in his trainers like he was. But nothing came to mind .

Her frown deepened , unaware that her curious frown looked more like a glare to poor Oscar .

He exhaled sharply , nodding his head too quickly .

“Yeah! Yeah. So good, just a little tired.” He said. Just wishing he could be cool around her for once.

But she looked so god damn pretty and her Spanish accent was thick from being home over the holidays as she spoke back to him casually like they were friends , making his heart jump in his chest.

“You need to get good sleep. I don’t want a tired teammate , too restless to help me out on the track.” She tried to tease him, to lighten him up a bit.

But Oscar took her words seriously , nodding his head with a heartfelt look on his face .

“I will always help you out.” He promised sincerely .

Bee paused , caught of guard. Then let out a slightly awkward laugh , nodding her head .

A little weird, she hummed in amusement , but also very cute. She grinned as she looked back at him .

“That’s very sweet.” She replied then asked him “speaking of helping me out , do you have a car?”

Oscar rose a brow at her “yes? Why?” He wondered at the sudden question . So random and abrupt .

She gave him a little smile , Tilting her head to be more appealing to get what she wanted. Oblivious to the fact that she only had to blink and Oscar would give her his kidney if she wanted it.

He was down bad. So , so freaking bad. It was disgusting really .

“My car doesn’t arrive till tomorrow night and I need to get to track . You have two cars right? One from team too?” She said.

It made him feel giddy that she had clearly kept some type of tabs on him to know that, so giddy in fact that he failed to mention that one car was back in Australia.

He only had one right now. The mclaren the team had given him. The same one she would be getting tomorrow night as well.

“Yeah.” He doesn’t even think about his next words , blurting them out loudly “you can have my car.”

She blinked at him in shock “yeah? You don’t mind? I know it’s a lot to ask-“

Oscar quickly shakes his head , smiling at her. “No! No. It’s fine. It’s only for tomorrow, you can have it.” Internally panicking as he realised just what he had said. But he couldn’t take it back now, not when she was smiling at him like he was her saviour.

She then reached out and grabbed him into a quick hug , laughing happily while he stood stock still in shock. Glowing red and heart palpating , feeling like he was in a dream.

“Thanks Oscar! I owe you one . You can ride mine anytime you want.” She tells him with a wink as she pulls away.

“See you tomorrow!” She leaves him standing there with wide eyes and red cheeks.

Hand pressed to his chest, eyes closed tight in disbelief .

“Shit.” He breathed out grimacing to himself as he realised that he had no ride to the track either now since he had just given his only car away.

Bee felt herself frown in disbelief as she drove down the road and spotted a familiar man in walking on the sidewalk alone , blowing the horn at him loudly and watching Oscar jump out of his skin.

His head snapping over to her in shock, giving her a sheepish grin when she glared back at him in absolute disbelief .

“What are you doing? Why are you walking? Where is your other car?” She throws the questions at him quickly as she pulls over to a stop in front of him.

Oscar paused , then mumbled quietly, embarrassed “Australia.” Peeking up after a minute of silence to see Bee gaping at him like he had lost his damn mind.

She spluttered loudly “what the fuck? Then why did you give me your car?!” She almost shouts , wondering what the hell was wrong with him. Who did that?!

He shrugged weakly “you needed it?” It comes out more of a question as he meekly gives her a smile as if to calm her down. Wondering why she looked so angry at him now.

She didn’t know what to feel other than frustration and confusion , wondering if he was so scared of her that he felt intimidated to give her his damn car! What the hell?

“So do you obviously!” She shot back while getting out of the drivers seat and rounding the car , opening the door for him to get into the passengers seat.

She stood like a disapproving parent , hand on top of the door as she scolded at him “get in Oscar!” She demanded while pointing her finger to the seat sternly.

And like the good guy he was, he quickly scurried to get in. Bee slamming the door behind him and getting back behind the wheel.

It was quite for a moment as she continued to drive , side eyeing him with a scowl on her pretty face while Oscar sat, blushing , beside her quietly.

She was concerned “are you being bullied?” She wondered out loud . Because what else could make someone think they had to give her their car just because she wanted it?

Oscar looked at her in shock “no! What?” He looked equally as confused as her now.

She frowned at him “then why so easy to give? Are you scared of me?” She then asked him wanting to figure this out .

Oscar wanted to die “no. God. No.” Yes. Very scared actually but not of her but scared of the way she made him feel.

It was stupid , he felt stupid and it was all her fault.

He looked back at her with a offended frown “you’re not scary.” He lied.

She scoffed , then jerked the wheel sharply making him let out a girly scream.

She snickered meanly “sure. Don’t lie next time otherwise I break your fingers.” She let him know calmly .

Oscar swallowed dryly at her threat having a feeling she wasn’t joking either .

“I didn’t - I didn’t exactly lie.” He tried to justify himself nervously “just emitted a little fact is all.” He muttered

Bee just rolled her eyes “you’re too cute to be this stupid.” She told him casually like she wasn’t flipping his whole world upside down with a single comment .

Oscar just looked at her in shock . Cute? She thought he was cute? He inhaled deeply , biting back a giddy grin.

“Thanks.” He stupidly replied instead . In a daze from being called cute.

He misses the way she rolls her eyes again, fondly shaking her head at him.

Definitely something wrong with him. She thought.

After that it became a habit of his to do everything for Bee, even when she didn’t need it or even asked him to do so.

He made sure no one bothered her before each race so she could get into the zone , making sure that she always had a sugary candy to eat as soon as she got out the car.

He made sure that she always had water on hand , he had elastic ties around his wrist to tie back her hair for her when she was sweaty.

Casually sitting behind her while she talked to lando about something , gathering her hair into his hands, Bee not even blinking or pausing in conversation as Oscar tried to braid if for her. Having watched some YouTube videos on doing hair for her.

Ignoring the flabbgasted look lando was giving him, he preened at the affectionate tap to the thigh she gave him when he was done . Feeling more of a rush from her simple touch than he did after a race, it was electrifying .

He stood in front of the beaming sunlight as soon as he noticed the way Bee began to squint as it stung her eyes , positioning himself so that she was shaded instead . He smiled to himself as she handed him her bag to hold while she got out her phone from her pocket , chatting casually to him.

He hooked her glittery bag onto his shoulder , unbothered by the looks he was getting from everyone else .

“I mean can you believe that bitch? Calling me trash when she looked like she had murdered Elmo and worn him for lunch? I mean- she had that much filler in her face that she could barely even blink!” She ranted to him bitchily like she usually did whenever someone annoyed her after learning that Oscar loved hearing her gossip and bitching.

Oscar nodded his head along in agreement , grinning in amusement at how mean she was . “She sure could cry though , Botox couldn’t stop the wailing.” He commented .

Bee just shrugged , unfazed . “She had it coming talking to me like that.” She replied.

“You could make even the coldest person cry.” He said impressed. Then he held out her little mirror in front of her for her while she reapplied her lipstick , quietly admiring her some more as she did so

Lando couldn’t take it anymore. After watching him put food in a designer lunchbox for Bee , hand washing her car for her and then asking him if he thought she would like a rag doll cat for her birthday. He couldn’t keep it in any longer .

“Did you drop the soap around her or something mate? Is that how you became her little bitch?” He joked. Laughing hysterically as he watched Oscar’s cheek immediately blaze with heat.

Oscar glared at him despite the embarrassment clearly on his face .

“I am not her bitch!” He denied weakly. He definitely was a little bit . “I’m just being nice. Like a good teammate.” He added as an after thought , another weak excuse .

Lando just snorted at him “you never brought me lunch or hand washed my car.” He said amused.

Oscar doesn’t miss a beat “that’s cause I don’t like you.” He snapped back at him defensively .

Lando smirked triumphantly “so you like her then?”

Oscar paused at his mistake , blinking wide eyes as he quickly tried to back peddle . “I don’t like her!”

“So you hate her?” He teased him. Trying to get him to admit what they all already knew.

“No!”

“So you do like her?”

“No!”

Lando tilted his head mockingly “so what do you think of her then? I think you’ve got a little crush Oscar. I think that you think she’s really pretty and you want to bang her-“

Oscar gasped loudly at him , face bright red “Lando! Shut up! I don’t have a crush on her! Jesus! What are you? Ten?” He hissed back at him , mortified .

Lando just giggled loudly at his reaction “you are so red!” He grinned at him amused “you like her soooo much-“

Oscar nearly jumped out of his skin when a voice piped up behind him, making his stomach sink as he watched lando smirk mischievously at him. Ever the shit stirrer .

“Who do you like? Do you have a crush Oscar?” Bee was frowning at him, not liking what she was hearing at all . The cute little guy that followed her around and did everything she asked was looking elsewhere? she didn’t like that thought at all.

Oscar looked back at her, saw her frown and frowned too. Because why was she frowning? He almost felt offended , assuming the worst.

Did she think that he was so Pathetic that a girl couldn’t possibly like him? That he couldn’t have a crush because he was so weird?

He frowned back at her even harder then , still defensive from Landos teasing.

“No I don’t! But so what if I did? Am I not allowed to have a crush?!” He exclaimed annoyed at the both of them now.

Lando just laughed while Bee just looked at him like he had lost his mind.

“Who?” She wanted to know, blunt and not giving a shit how demanding she seemed. “Who is the stupid girl that has you like this?” She felt her blood pressure rise.

Because In her mind Oscar was already hers. They hung out together , he did everything for her. She was pretty and hot and why wouldn’t Oscar want her? Surely there couldn’t be anyone better than her?

She scoffed bitterly .

Oscars eyes were wide and he looked terrified , face pale and cheeks a dark red. He gaped at her angry face , looking at him like he had somehow betrayed her.

“I don’t like anyone! Lando was just kidding weren’t you lando?” He hissed at the stupid Brit that had started all this in the first place , who was looking for too entertained for his liking.

Lando looked at his panicked face then at Bee’s angry one and laughed loudly . “Sure I was. And anyway , Oscar likes scary women. Don’t you buddy?” He patted him on the shoulder before leaving him to deal with the aftermath on his own, even giving him a wink as he went.

Bee frowned then tilted her head, brain ticking as she took in landos sly comment.

Huh. She relaxed a little then, maybe she was the stupid girl.

“Oscar?” She voiced.

He swallowed thickly “yeah?”

“I’m hungry.” She simply said looking pointedly at the lunch box in his hand.

“What are we having today?” She asked him taking him by the hand and leading him over to the table to eat.

He inhaled sharply , squeezing the palm of her hand three times. “Quiche and yoghurt . It’s strawberry and vanilla and -“ he suddenly frowned at her worriedly “you’re not like , allergic to yogurt are you? Or cheese? Cause I’m not trying to kill you or anything! I’ve never even asked you if you’re allergic to anything . Are you? That’s so stupid and careless of me-“

Before he could continue on his panicked tangent , Bee quickly cut him off.

Letting of a fond little giggle , she nudged his shoulder with hers in amusement . “The only thing I’m allergic to is bullshit Oscar.” She gave him a pointed look.

He just nodded quietly .

Then “Bee?” He spoke up timidly handing her the yoghurt to eat after watching her devour the food.

She just hummed , handing him her orange juice to take a sip of in return.

“Are you- do you have a boyfriend?” He manages to spit out meekly.

Bee hid her giddy smirk in her spoon, simply shaking her head no. “Very single. Could be persuaded not to be though.” She let him know , side eyeing him teasingly .

Oscar went red. Looked down at the table and nodded his again. “Ah okay. Cool.” Was all he muttered.

Another minute went by then Bee side eyed him again , watching him play shyly with his fingers while he waited for her to finish eating.

“Are you? Single?” She asked him . He better be, she thought darkly . This cute boy was hers.

Oscar startled , looking at her like a deer in headlights. Then he rapidly nodded his head. “Very.”

“Good.” Was all she replied.

He nodded too.

Good .

Cool.

They said nothing else on the matter. But Oscar’s hopes soared.

It kept going on like that for a while , Bee calling him cute and pretty and adorable and Oscar running after her like ‘a certified pathetic simp’ as lando likes to say. And it was going well in Oscar’s opinion , he got a little less shy and a lot more comfortable around her . A lot less scared.

And maybe that’s why he felt so comfortable agreeing to drink with her after a particularly good race . Allowing her to convince him to eat cake and drink champagne ,

Oscar found himself absolutely shitfaced on her couch. Very quickly reminded of why he didn’t drink , he was such a lightweight.

Which was how he found himself gazing at a equally as drunk Bee next to him on the coach, gazing at her like she had hung the moon in his sky.

His filter was gone and heart was on his drunken sleeve and he played with her soft hair in adoration.

“You’re so pretty. Like- like a plane.” He slurred to her.

Bee giggled quietly , nudging her head against his shoulder as she peered up at him with glassy eyes full of amusement . “Like a plane?”

Oscar nodded seriously “yeah but like the kind of plane people think are planes but then they blink and it’s the prettiest star in the sky. Not a plane.” He rambled to her passionately “you have such nice skin too.” He added as an after thought .

Bee was a giggling mess. “I think you’re really pretty too. I like your nose.” She whispered with a grin before planting a kiss on said nose affectionately.

He blushed , dazed. “Thank. I want to marry you.” He then blurted out without any grace , grinning drunkenly down at her like a sappy fool .

Bee laughed loudly in shock , looking up at him with a tipsy grin on her face. “Oh yeah? But you can barely even speak to me sober! How at you gonna marry me?” She teased him .

Oscar sniffled , serious when it came to how he felt about her , drunk or not .

“I’ve been working on it. I like doing things for you and seeing you smile. I like that you call me just to bitch about a bitch.” He replied honestly .

Bee felt her face soften as she saw the pure dedication on his face , all for her. She gently grabbed his face in her hand, stroking his red cheek with her thumb softly.

“You got a crush on me?” She whispered teasingly. Nudging her nose with his.

Oscar Just smiled and gently shook his head . “No. Much more than that.” He whispered back.

Bee smiled softly “yeah? You like me then?”

He laughed quietly and kissed the corner of her mouth gently , lingering there before pulling back just a little to see her eyes flutter closed.

“I love you.” He simply told her , drunk on champagne and his buzzy Bee. “So much it makes me silly. And I gave you my car even though I didn’t have another one and I want to hold your bag for you forever , and I want to make you lunch and kiss your face..” he whispered to her , blinking dazedly as the alcohol finally caught up to him.

He pulled the blanket further around their bodies , feeling her trembling breath on his lips as she looked at him with tears in her eyes. Knowing that he meant it too.

“I want you to be my girl.” He yawned.

She gently ran her fingers through his hair and laid down on the couch , letting him place his head on her chest tiredly as he snuggled up to her , intertwining their legs together .

“If you still feel this way in the morning , I will be.”

Too tired to speak anymore , he just linked his pinky finger with hers, a silent promise , and tucked his face further onto her neck . Letting her pull him close as he drifted off to sleep .

Oscar woke with a pounding head and a churning stomach , but he froze up as soon as he felt soft fingers in his hair. Sheepishly peering up at Bee’s amused face as she looked down at her with a tired smile on her face too.

“Morning sleepyhead. Sleep good?” She yawned. Tugging him closer to her , making his heart skip a beat.

Oscar nodded sheepishly then hesitantly cleared his throat as he remembered last night . Fidgeting with the strap of her top , he bit down on his bottom lip nervously as he wondered how to go about this.

“Bee?” He murmured shyly against her chest as he peered up at her through his lashes , letting out a content sigh at the feeling of her nails scratching lightly at his scalp , lulling him into calmness .

She smiled down at him knowingly “yeah?”

He hesitated for a moment , then muttered quietly “I’m not a forgetful morning after drunk.”

Bee just giggled “really? So you want to marry me then? Kiss my face forever?” She teased him softly.

Oscar just nodded, laughing sheepishly . “Yeah. I want to- I want you to be mine. My girlfriend. If you want that too.” He rambled anxiously “if you don’t want them that’s fine obviously -“

Bee giggled and quickly stopped him there “you want to date me?”

He nodded rapidly “so bad.”

She just smiled happily and casually muttered “okay.”

“Okay?” He repeated in disbelief .

She laughed in amusement “yup.”

He gaped at her , eyes wide and dazed “that easy? No fight? No negotiations?” He spluttered in disbelief .

She laughed loudly at him then “I love you Oscar okay? I want to be with you too , so yes it’s that easy.” She told him firmly . Easily . Simply.

Oscar felt like he was slipping into shock. “Cool.” Was all he could get out “I mean- I love you too. Yeah - this is awesome.” He grinned down at her happily . Overwhelmed with his love for her.

“Kiss?” He shyly asked while gently cupping her cheek in his hand , wide eyes gazing into hers , feeling like he was in a dream.

Bee just giggled before closing the gap and finally kissing him . Feeling the relieved breath he let out against her mouth as he finally relaxed against her , humming against her lips contently .

“Love you.” He mumbled into the kiss while smiling like a fool in love . “Love you so much.”

“I love you too.” She giggled as they continued to make out like teenagers on her couch.

Becoming teammates was the best thing they had ever done .

Lando was going to be the smuggest bastard ever when he found out that he was right .

[elvisabutler]

down home southern cookin'

fandom: elvis 2022 | elvis presley rating: m pairing: elvis presley ( fameless big daddy electrician/handyman ) x female original character word count: 3069 warnings: housewife kink. big daddy elvis. pregnant sex. minor pregnancy kink and breastfeeding kink. sex around food ( the food isn't harmed ). p in v sex ( unprotected ). minor praise kink. talk of sweat. bags thumping on floors making you feel things. author’s note: welcome to day 14 of ally’s wet hot smut summer, breastfeeding kink with spark elvis and lilly. so, hi. i've been having a rough go around on actually finishing the main fic but i have made a bit more progress after moving past the block i've had formed for a while. that being said, enjoy this little one shot in the meantime. also if you have no idea what this series/verse is, the masterlist is right here. in addition, i truly do thrive on your comments and messages and love reading them.

"Is that meatloaf 'm smellin' darlin'?"

Lilly hears the door open before she ever hears Elvis's voice but at the sound of his voice, she can feel their children inside her move about, kicking and trying to roll around. It's been getting harder and harder to bend to reach the oven but she manages well enough, free hand on her belly as she opens the oven.

Elvis's thudding steps tell Lilly that he's heading to the kitchen to investigate not entirely unlike a bloodhound and she smiles softly to herself even as the twin she has taken to calling Gladys kicks her square in the rib. Her hand rubs at the spot as she stays bent over looking into the oven when she hears Elvis's whistle, low and appreciative.

"Wasn't expectin' that sorta greetin'. Ain't complainin', though." His voice is pitched low as she hears his bag thump on the floor. The thought of moving to a standing position enters Lilly's mind and yet she's just that slight bit curious as to what Elvis plans on doing.

After all, wasn't the proof of his appreciation for her backside growing healthy and strong within her? Wasn't his appreciation for a warm meal evident by the way so many of her dresses are slightly ruined? Wasn't he her husband not just in theory but in name?

It doesn't take long for her to feel the press of his front against her behind, the warmth of his body seeping through her dress. His hand moves to cup her stomach as he guides her into a standing position, nipping at her ear as she does. "They givin' ya trouble? Gotta get a lecture from Daddy?"

Lilly's laughter is always music to Elvis's ears and today is no exception. His lips curl into a soft smile as he kisses down her neck, hands wandering across her body. She makes no move to remove them. "They only started giving me trouble when they heard you."

"That so?" Elvis hums as one of his hands settles on her breast, squeezing it just light enough that Lilly's mouth falls open in a gasp. "They just missed their daddy as much as their mama did, didn't they? Jus' wanted to say hello."

He's not wrong, Lilly reasons. Jesse is the same way, trying to come crawling at the sound of his Daddy's voice as soon as he hears it if Elvis doesn't beat the boy to it. Still, there's nothing that says she has to boost her husband's ego any more than it already is tonight. It makes it easy to just hum quietly with a small grin on her face.

"They missed daddy, I don't know if mama did." Lilly teases even as she feels Elvis's hand tighten on her breast and feels the hand that had been cupping her lower stomach move ever so slightly lower. "I had the best company all day."

A huff of his warm breath tickles the hair on the back of her neck as he starts to use his hand to pull up her dress. "Jesse asleep?"

He knows it's too early for Jesse to be asleep, knows that Lilly keeps his son up just so that he can give him a kiss goodnight and help get him ready for bed even if he ran late arriving home. Yet, he feels the need to ask, to make sure Jesse isn't crawling around underfoot in a way that gets him into trouble. Elvis knows he should be a good husband and take a shower and make it so Lilly can rest her aching little sooties. Even with them not in heels he can see them a little swollen and he's sure if he touched them they'd be pounding. Elvis knows he should be a good husband like he always is and yet he can feel his cock swelling up in his jumpsuit. Seeing Lilly- seeing his *wife* bent over making food for him all while so *full* of him does something to him. It'd do something to any man worth his salt. Maybe he'd ask Charlie or Jerry how they feel about their wives when they've been pregnant. Though, Jerry's answer is damn nearly explained with his new niece or nephew Melly's got growing inside of her.

His cock had gotten them into this mess, first with her and him against the sink and even know their twins were merely the result of his cock seeing her backside as she bathed Jesse. If he were a different man, if he were the man he was almost two years ago he'd be embarrassed, mortified that his cock's acting like it's attached to a twenty year old. And yet, right now all he can think about is how thankful he is for it. Thankful it's proven its worth to satisfy Lilly in ways he knows now she had craved during her previous marriage. Thankful it's proven its worth by providing him with a healthy gift from God of a son and hopefully healthy strong little ones in a couple of months.

"You know he's awake," Lilly murmurs, moving closer to the sink for some leverage to lean on. "Wouldn't dream of putting our baby boy to sleep without letting him say goodnight to his Daddy." She pauses and leans back against Elvis, his body heat seeping through his jumpsuit and her dress. She can feel the sweat of the day on his skin and it should be nauseating and off putting but as she inhales deeply she merely smells the unique scent of her husband. A shiver passes through her. "What are you really trying to ask, Elvis?"

An idea of what he wants is on the tip of her tongue but she doesn't want to be too forward even after a child was born that was conceived in the strangest of ways or after he pleasured her with a garden hose. No, somehow asking him point blank if he was trying to enjoy what was between her legs was too much.

"If you'd let me- If ya'd mind bendin' over again. Or if ya'd mind if I put ya between the sink and me. Mindin' the yittle ones, course."

Lilly wonders if the way Elvis talks to her and the way Elvis seems to be completely and utterly in love with every part of her is ever going to get old. If it'll ever stop making her heart race and ever stop making her lose her breath. Maybe it's just because she had gotten so used to things with Nathan that it's still novel. The twins inside her do their own separate flips as she licks her lips.

"Minding them, of course." Her voice sounds airy, like it's floating into the air as she tries to remember how to breathe. "Facing you, right?"

Not looking out the window, pleasure crossing her face at every moment as she leaned against him, her legs too shaky to support the weight of her body. Not facing the window, watching the sun go down on another day, wishing this could be her afternoons forever more. No, she'd be able to face Elvis, see his face as it scrunched up when he grunted inside of her. She'd be able to see how he works up such a sweat that it drips down on her as they fuck. It's not that she hasn't since they've been married but this is another thing entirely. This is being able to see how Elvis's face looked like when he pleasured her against the sink almost two years ago. This is a reward for a hard day's work as she cooks their little buns inside of her and cooks a hearty filling meal for him.

His hands finally reach the destination he wants them to, her underwear. A hand slides against her clothed entrance, chuckling at how drenched has already made her. The pregnancy had heightened so many things and yet somehow she surprises him even with this. With a vagina that aches and yearns for him so much it cries out every second it's not filled. He finally speaks.

"Facin' me," his voice is a murmur and a growl as he shifts her underwear to the side just enough to slide his fingers where he knows she wants them. "Maybe I'll even lift ya up on the counter."

Lilly shakes her head, not trusting her mouth's ability to form words. Another time, she figures, when she wasn't carrying these precious little buns inside her. No, she wants to be pinned just as she was that first afternoon. Her hand reaches out to grab at Elvis's wrist, her hand trailing over her swollen stomach, an action watched with rapt attention by Elvis. A quiet but noticeable squelch is heard as he pulls his fingers from her. He opens up his mouth to speak only to watch as he realized something shifted inside of Lilly when she heard that squelch of his fingers. The look she has on her face is one he's gotten to know well both through her pregnancy with Jesse and now her pregnancy with the twins. She wants him and every second that she don't have him she'll get more and more frustrated. His hands move to undo and start to unzip his jumpsuit only to have her swat them away. Lilly's hand are deft little things, suited for sewing and domestic tasks even he struggles with despite his ample skills.

The rush of the cold air against his sweaty chest has him inhaling and has his overheated body shivering just a hair. Lilly's eyes watch the action and take it to mean that she needs to hurry, needs to reach down low enough to free his already swollen cock from the confines of his underwear. Elvis opens up his mouth to speak only to have Lilly's hand finally pull his zipper down low enough to yank down his underwear, his cock bobbing out of them not entirely unlike a goddamn Jack in the Box. Lilly isn't forceful except for these times when she's needy and he's already promised to give her what she needs. How's a man supposed to talk when he sees her hand around his cock, slathering the ample precum across his length.

"Just against it, Elvis. Please," Lily begs ever so softly, though she knows she doesn't need to. Any request she makes of Elvis he does and this would be no exception. She watches as he looks down at her with such a rush of love and clenches her thighs. Her nipples brush against the fabric of her bra and she whimpers at the mere feeling of his hand against her hip as he walks her back against the sink. She needs and wants every bit of him and he's determined to give it to her.

In bed, he would take his time undressing her, watching her dress fall to the floor and watching her ample milk filled breasts spill from her bra. He would suckle at her nipples until he saw her chest heave and her body shake with release. But right now? Right now against the sink he doesn't bother to even pull down her underwear. He should, and yet he can feel how aroused she is and just how she is craving him. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she's reminded this isn't proper, that she should insist he take his time and undress her and yet that voice is smothered by realizing no part of their relationship would be considered proper to her two years ago.

His actions make her happy so why should there be any shame attached to them. Her thoughts swirl in her mind with such force that she is caught off guard by Elvis removing her hand and entering her with very little preparation. A choked off sob of pleasure leaves her mouth as she looks up at him.

"Elvis," she whispers, her hands finding purchase on his chest and down his stomach. The hair on his body that rubs up against her skin every time they make love feels different in her hands in this moment, somehow softer while being just a little bit rougher. One of her hands plays with his chest, laughing breathlessly as one of his hands mirrors her, cupping her breast. "You can go— oh."

Elvis knows Lilly like he knows the back of his hand, he figures. Knows what makes his wife turn to pure putty in hands and knows how to have her pleasured in every way she had always deserved to be pleasured. It's easy to figure out just by watching her face and watching how it shifts when he thrusts just right and cups her breasts just right. "I can what, darlin'? Ya want it faster? Want your husband to move faster? Make it so ya comin' faster than anythin'?"

Lilly's eyes drift to the stove for a moment and then to the clock. She should tell him she wants him to take his time. That she wants to feel every thrust and feel his foreskin as it drags inside of her despite how aroused she is. She knows she doesn't have enough time though, knows that in about ten minutes she has to pull the meatloaf from the oven. Her vagina clenches and earns a slight curse from Elvis as he kisses her softly, waiting for an answer.

"We— the meatloaf. I don't want it to burn." As if she needs to explain why she needs him to go faster. "Tonight—If we can it can be slower."

Her skin is flushed and Elvis just takes a moment in between thrusts to marvel at the way it starts at her cheeks and how there's small splotches of it heading down to her chest. He's done that to her, not just the embarrassment she still holds on to about asking just what she would like him to do to her. His perfect wife, his lil darlin' is worried about meatloaf and can't always put into words what she desires. How had he gotten so lucky? How had God saw fit to put the nearest earthly thing to perfection in front of him? How had he found himself married with a son and young ones on the way to this woman?

"Even if 'm not. Ya— ya always know ya can get my engine revving," Elvis's voice is a murmur against Lilly's neck as he kisses and nips at it, his hips quickening their pace. "How long we got, Lil?"

"Nine," she answers, trying to buck against Elvis as best she can with her stomach and his own in the way. "I'll— I've been wanting—"

The words she wants to say are left in her head as his hand drifts down her chest and down her swollen belly to between her legs. Another time and another place she'd question what he's doing but she knows where his hand is headed. She knows before she feels the press of the calloused pads of his fingertips against her throbbing clit. It's been like that nearly all day and she knows better than to take care of it herself on days like this. Knows that what she needs is the warmth of his hands and the roughness of them to bring her to completion. So lost in her own pleasure she nearly misses the words leaving Elvis's lips.

"My perfect wife. My perfect lil darlin'. Takin' care of our yittle one and growing the other yittle buns. Could be like some of the other women and relax, sh—should be like 'em but here you are makin' me dinner and keepin' everythin' as it should be. Gonna show ya how much I love ya for this. How thankful I am for ya."

He pants it against her skin, one hand gripping at her hip while the other works against her clit as she's pinned against the skin. It should hurt, the way the counter digs into her back just a bit but any pain she feels is overtaken by the throbbing between her legs and the scrape of her nipples against her bra. Everything feels so warm and safe and loving that she feels herself starting to reach a crescendo, clawing at his chest before her hands slide to his lower back and down to his behind, pulling him somehow impossibly closer. An almost inhuman noise leaves his lips, a howl and a growl and a groan all mixed into one as he feels her clenching around him.

"That's it, Lilly. That's it my lil darlin'. God— Like a vice—" His words are lost in a haze of her orgasm and his own following closely after. Somehow both of their grips on each other get tighter as they try to catch their breath. Elvis makes sure to not lean too hard on Lilly, careful to protect their children inside of her. Time doesn't have a meaning for either of them until the shrill ring of a timer sounds signalling the fact that the meatloaf is finished.

"I— I need to get that, Elvis." Lilly whispers, still trying to remember how to breathe and walk properly. His only answer is a slow nod as he steps away. It's easy for him to watch Lilly's hips move as she walks the short distance between the sink and oven. A part of him thinks he should turn away when she starts to bend over but then he thinks of how she's leaking his release standing there and how she still likely has to finish one thing or another on the stove. He licks his lips and with a speed that surprises even him, he finds himself on his knees in front of her once she's pulled the meatloaf from the oven and set it down.

"Elvis, what are you— what are you doing?" Her voice is light and her eyes sparkle in a way they only do when she's amused at him and his antics.

In lieu of answering, his large hands grab at the edges of her dress and start to pull it up and up and up until her underwear is exposed to him. It's then and only then that he answers her, looking up through his eyelashes with a practically devilish smirk. "Felt like havin' dessert while you're doin' your work."

taglist: @ab4eva, @blurredcolour, @butlersxbirdy, @precious-little-scoundrel, @eliseinmemphis, @prompted-wordsmith, @missmaywemeetagain, @lookingforrainbows, @thatbanditqueen, @ellie-24, @be-my-ally,  @austinbutlersgirl67, @heartbrake-hotel, @ccab, @18lkpeters, @slutforsomegoodlettuce, @dkayfixates, @kendralavon7, @chasingwildflowers, @notstefaniepresley, @wanderingelvis, @kxnnxy, @powerofelvis, @stylespresleyhearted, @marriedtopresley, @memphis-menace, @steph-speaks, @doll-elvis, @vintageshanny, @j-v-9-2, @sexystarfish, @jessicarcates, @chirssycrumble9456789, @shantellescrivener, @yomammalolha, @honey6578, @urmom11111111111119, @myradiaz, @elvispresleyxoxo, @joegramoe, @rainblue-art, @fav-fanficssss, @misspresley, @fallinlovewithurlove, @ash-omalley, @yynneessmons if you're missing from this list, you either changed your username or tumblr is tumblr.

[darylsdeadboy]

comfort. ₊˚ෆ˚ 🐇

male! reader x daryl dixon

plot: daryl gives you your much needed comfort. (sigh i feel weird saying comfort twice but i can't think of any other word right now.)

warnings: shitty, rushed writing but it's okay i'm just a boy, reader has daddy issues, non-sexual use of the word daddy. masterlist

You've been in bed all day so far, haven't got up to shower, haven't got up to eat, haven't even got up to use the restroom. You've been like this for a couple weeks so far, staying in your room, pushing everybody away. Everybody in the group has taken notice of this, especially Daryl, but he and the rest of them know better than to force you, so they mostly just let it be.

But Daryl couldn't go like this any longer, watching you slowly become worse and hit rock bottom. It pains him more than anything else in the world. He had to do something about it.

You hear the thumping of steps and soon the sound of your bedroom door creaking open, revealing Daryl in the doorway. He keeps his head down and awkwardly steps in, closing the door behind him. He looks at you. You're in bed, facing the wall, curled up in a fetal position with your knees to your chest. He presses his lips together into a thin line as he contemplates on what to say.

"Ya alrigh'? Haven't been outta bed all day," he speaks softly.

You glance at him, then back at the wall. The room reeks of silence for a good moment until you mumble something barely audible.

"Fine."

He crosses his arms over his chest and gets a little closer to you, looking down at your curled up form. "Ya ain't." He pauses for a second. "Ya've been doin' this a lot, not leavin' yer room. Somethin's wrong. Don't lie t'me."

You're not sure what to say, so you just hum in response, not seeming to interested in the conversation.

He lets his arms fall back to his sides and sighs. "Look, I ain't gonna force anythin' outta ya, but ya gotta talk t'someone eventually. Ya can't jus' keep goin' on like this."

You turn your head to look at him, your eyebrows furrowing. "Like what?" you question, your tone slightly aggressive.

"Like this." he snaps as he swings his arm towards your direction.

You look at your surroundings: used dishes, some with uneaten food on them, empty bottles, and dirty clothes covering your floor and nightstand. It's a complete wreck. You feel your stomach drop a little. You're sick, and you know you're sick, but staring at it, really taking in just what state you're in, what you're doing to yourself, it does something to you, something unexplainable that makes your bottom lip start to quiver, but you're quick to hide it.

"'S not healthy," his voice softens, along with his gaze. He saunters over to your bed, sitting on the edge of it, looking at you, concern displayed on his face. "'M worried about ya. Ya ain't even eaten yet today, have ya?"

You're eyes are locked on him, just staring. You don't respond.

He reaches up to rest his hand on your thigh. You feel the firmness of it against your skin through the blankets. The touch is calming.

"Somethin's goin' on wit' ya. Like I said, ya ain't gotta tell me, but 'm always here if ya need t'talk, y'know that right? I love ya 'n' I care about ya."

Hearing those words made you crumble. Your body tensed and a lump built in your throat, your eyes swelling up with tears, your bottom lip starting to visibly quiver.

Daryl instinctively pulled you close to him as he saw the tears.

"C'mere, sweetheart," he uttered, putting his hands under your armpits and lifting you into his lap gently. His big arms encaged your body, cradling you as if you were a baby, one arm under your knees and the other against your back, your face pressed against his chest as you cried.

You felt safe like this, in his arms. It was as if he was shielding you from all the bad in the world. It was the first time in your life you've ever been held like this, comforted like this, have someone show so much love towards you. You didn't know it was possible. "I got ya, shh, shh, 's alrigh'."

Words spill out of your mouth faster than you can think, shaky and barely coherent. "'M-.. 'm sorry, Daryl. 'M jus' so tired, 'm so t-tired.."

He holds you closer and wipes the tears from your red face with his thumb, pressing a kiss to your hair. "Shh, I know, baby, I know. Ya ain't gotta apologize fer nothin'."

His words fulfilled your entire body, spinning inside your head like all of your worries, but this time it was something better, something you've been yearning to hear for a while, something that warms you. It just makes you sob harder, body practically shaking in his arms. You can't speak, or do anything for that matter, just let Daryl hold you, keep you in this cocoon of warmth. You never wanted this moment to end.

He was treating you in a way your father didn't even do. This man, this treasure of a man you somehow stumbled across in the dark world of the apocalypse, treated you better than your father did. How? Why? Why you? Why were you the one who was picked by the gods above to receive this gift? You didn't deserve him, you didn't deserve anything good in life in your head.

You wanted to tell him, tell him how much he meant to you. He deserves it, you knew that after he told you about his childhood. He deserved the love he never received, but you couldn't form words. You just held him as tight as possible, hoping he'd get the signal, what you're trying to tell him. I love you, I trust you, thank you for being here.

He could feel the tightness of your grip. You were holding onto him like he was gonna slip away if you even dared to let go. His hands tightened around you too. He could make out your message. You've told him about your bad past, about your father, how he's impacted your life harshly, just as he did with you. He knew you needed some type of parental figure in your life, with how young you were. You needed someone to guide you. Maybe, just maybe he could take on that role.

"Shh, breathe fer me. 'M here. Daddy's got ya. Daddy's got ya, sweet boy. Jus' breathe," he speaks, his tone gentle, as if he was talking to a fussy baby.

His words made your breath get caught in your throat, the world stopping around you. Daddy. Sweet boy. It was like you were a little boy again, being nurtured. You were a fussy baby, being held and soothed oh so tenderly once more. Your breathing suddenly slowed and the hurt in your throat eased as Daryl pressed another little kiss to your hair.

"There ya go. Jus' like tha'. Good boy," he praised, the gruffness of his voice vibrating against your ear, his forehead against yours.

He continued petting your hair and whispering sweet words into your ear. He comforted you in a way nobody else could. He was your father right now. You felt safe in his arms. He wouldn't let anything hurt you whatsoever.

It took some time, but you eventually calmed down, and Daryl was with you for the entire time, holding you the whole way through.

As he heard your sobbing turn into nothing but soft sniffles his grip loosened on your body, letting you take your face out of his chest to look up at him, your eyes glossy and your face tinted with a light shade of pink.

He flashed a grin, something that you didn’t get to see very often. You appreciated the sight, even if it was small.

“Better?” he questioned, stroking your hair, moving a couple strands out of your face.

You nodded, giving a hum of confirmation.

“Mhm,” you let your head loll to the side, back on Daryl’s chest.

“Anythin’ I can do fer ya? Ya hungry? Thirsty?” there was genuine concern in his voice. He wanted to put you at ease in anyway he could.

“Mm-mm,” a purr came from your throat. You were too tired, too weak to speak clearly. You felt all limp and fuzzy inside now that you’ve got the cry out that you’ve been needing to release for ages, “sleep.”

He let out an understanding grunt, standing up with you in his arms and resting you back down on your worn out mattress again, reaching for the blanket and covering you with it, making sure to tuck you in nicely.

You buzzed sleepily, cuddling up in the blanket and closing your eyes, feeling your exhaustion begin to overtake you. Daryl stared for a moment, admiring you. You were a sleeping beauty in his eyes, to say the least. You looked so peaceful. He leaned down hesitantly, letting his lips brush against your hair, kissing it then standing up to his full height again.

He turned, starting for the door. He grabbed the doorknob, turning it before he heard your voice again, making him stop and turn his head towards you, your eyes open again, glazed over with sleep.

“Stay, please.”

He grunted, then blinked, his hand falling from the door. He hesitated. Daryl was never much of a cuddler, he thought it was too sappy, but if his boy wanted something, he’d damn well give it to him, no matter what.

He strutted to the bed, his head bowed slightly. The bed creaked under his body weight. He reached down, shuffling his boots off of his feet, hitting the ground with a thud.

He placed his hands on the sheets of the bed and crawled to you, until he was right next to you. He lays down, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

You bury your face in his neck and let your hands roam around his body, feeling the cold leather of his vest beneath your hands, sending a shiver down your spine. A yawn escapes you and you close your eyes once more, now content and able to sleep.

He holds you tight as he watches you slowly drift off, stroking your back. Once he hears the soft snores coming from you, he lets himself rest too, nuzzling his face into your hair with a grunt. “Night, sunshine..”

this is short but it literally took me a month to write. ive just been so lazy lately thats mb 😿

ALSO!!

I HIT OVER 100 FOLLOWERS ?? OML THANK U GUYS SM !! I LOVE U !! 💗💗💗

[mvltisstuff]

head over heels - e.b

summary: after y/n rescues an abandoned puppy, she brings it home to buck who slowly falls in love with it

evan buckley x reader

y/n was busy driving home after her shift, and she was calling hen, who was busy ranting about something someone did at work. obviously focused on the road, she was also listening to the story hen was telling her.

“i mean it’s ridiculous! i told him several times to do it and he never did!” hen yells through the phone onto y/n’s speaker. “i don’t know if he’s just bad at his job or what.”

“he might just be adjusting to working here. that was not a normal thing, though.”

“i guess, but still.”

y/n was on an almost empty side road, the lack of other vehicles was definitely noticeable. the sides were just tall grass and dirt with a few pieces of trash someone threw out their window. she was looking around in the wet dirt and saw something almost completely blending in, but there was certainly something there. it was breathing a bit, it’s chest rising suspiciously slow. she thought about just driving away, it was probably just a squirrel or something. but it looked to big to be a squirrel. y/n saw it’s little head peek out, and it looked like a more domestic animal. her focus on hens words had become faint because she was paying attention to something else. something was telling her that something was wrong. she felt like this animal was not supposed to be there. no animal should be there, sad and alone on the side of the road, but this one felt particularly worse.

“hey, hen?” y/n starts, cutting her off. “i’ve gotta go.” she pulls over to the side of the street, checking her blind spots and grabbing her phone before leaving her car. when she walks out, she slowly walks up to the sad creature that was still laying in the mud. the small animal was a puppy, couldn’t be older than a few months. the poor thing was whining and making small whimpers. y/n was shocked, not really knowing what to do. of course everyone has seen videos of animals being rescued, but once you’re in that position, you don’t know what to do. she doesn’t make any abrupt moves or sounds so she doesn’t scare the already traumatized dog. y/n could tell by its eyes that it had seen some things.

“ok, buddy,” she begins. “stay here, you’ll be ok.” she walks back to her car, taking out an old t-shirt and carefully wrapping the puppy up in it. the white whisps of fur were almost completely concealed by the pileup of dirt on his itchy skin. y/n checked around for any extra abandoned animals before bringing him to her car. she made a few phone calls before bringing him into a local emergency vet. he had no collar or tag, and clearly he was not wanted if he got out so young and no one looked for him. he was incredibly light, despite being so young. his tiny body was strong, though, being able to move around. he was scared and y/n wanted to cry and scream for this poor dog who couldn’t advocate or save himself.

“he seems alright,” the vet says. “we gave him some food and medication to make him feel a bit better, but there aren’t really any medical concerns for him. he’s going to be on edge for a bit, but he seems like he’ll be healthy.”

it seemed like a miracle, which is hard to see with these situations. the tiny puppy was a fighter for sure, and was so lucky that y/n had found him. “so, what should i do now?”

“you can bring him to a shelter if you don’t want him, or-“

“no, i don’t want him going to a bad shelter here in LA.” y/n looks at the little guy, wrapped up in a clean blanket and smelling around on the table. her heart melted a bit at this adorable puppy, wanting to just scoop him up and never look back. “i’ll take him home. i’ll figure something out.”

on the way home, y/n had stopped at the local pet shop to pick up a few small things. she figured he would stay tonight, so she gathered things like food and a bed for him and a few toys to make him feel more safe and happy. she had drawn a warm bath for him to get any extra dirt off, which revealed his shiny, white coat and he was already looking much happier. she worked on building trust, but had already forgotten about her second companion at home. she lives in bucks apartment with him. she didn’t think he would be upset, but a complicated schedule would probably stray him away from a young puppy. however, that wasn’t going to stop her from caring for this helpless puppy.

y/n had been brushing his coat and playing with him a bit, trying to warm him up with some food. he was still a bit scared from loud noises of neighbors and quick movements, but he was in much better condition than when he was discovered.

“y/n?” buck starts walking around, placing his things on the counter and slipping off his shoes. “y/n? i’m home.” he doesn’t hear a reply, but he surely noticed the scattered dog toys and the water bowl. he sighs and prepares himself for what is likely in his apartment.

“shoot, i didn’t text him!” y/n says, cleaning up the mess in the bathroom from cleaning him up. she hears bucks footsteps walking up the stairs, and she knows she’s in for an earful.

“hey, y/n, what’s all that pet st-“ buck stops in his tracks when he sees a small puppy in y/n’s arms, cradling him like a baby. the tub was draining dirty water, and the white bundle was in a towel. now it was his turn to be speechless. buck loves animals, but he definitely would’ve liked some warning before she bought she dog.

“before you say anything or get mad,” y/n interrupts. “i was driving home from work, and i saw his little body on the side of the road. i couldn’t leave him, buck! it was so sad, he was so scared and i couldn’t just drive away!”

“baby, i am not mad,” buck smiles and walks closer, placing a hand on her shoulder. “i was just not expecting this today, that’s all. but are you sure he wasn’t just lost?”

“he had no collar or tag on him. it was also in the middle of nowhere, he couldn’t have gotten there on his own and made it that far.”

“i don’t- can we take care of a dog? he’s going to need attention and all that stuff.”

“we know a lot of people who can watch him when one of us can’t. we’ll be here most of the time for him, too. i know you can’t say no to this face!” she babies her voice at the end, looking at the puppy and facing him toward buck. he gives him a quick scratch behind his big ears.

“fine, he’s cute,” he finally admits. y/n gives him a confused look and the puppy gives him those eyes. “ok well when he looks at me like that, how can i say no? he’s adorable!”

“that’s why i brought him home! he’s all healthy and all he needs is a few vaccinations.”

“does he have a name?”

“no, i’ve been calling him boy for the past hour. i wanted to wait for you.”

“did you have anything in mind?” he says, leading everyone out to the bed.

“i think apollo was cute, greek fighter, destroyer.”

“is he going to destroy our house?”

“no! but he’s a little fighter guy, he’s tough, aren’t you?” she says, picking him up and holding him in the air.

the next few days had been long, staying up with a crying puppy at night and trying to make him comfortable in a new home. they were just glad he wasn’t anywhere else, like some abusive home or neglectful shelter.

after a night out with some of her friends, y/n had come home at around 10:30. she had put her purse on the table, and expected her boyfriend to come up and greet her. all she heard were deep snores from the bed upstairs. all of the lights were on, so buck probably just fell asleep watching TV.

y/n walked up the stairs only to be confronted by her boyfriend and apollo, who was snuggled into bucks arms and peacefully sleeping. she covered her mouth and let out quiet giggles, taking a picture to show buck in the morning. she walks over and scoops up the young dog. he groaned and yawned in her arms. “apollo, i bought you a nice bed for a reason!” she whispers and places him in his crate, closing the door so he wouldn’t get hurt roaming around the apartment. “goodnight, buddy.” she says to the already sleeping puppy.

y/n had just stepped out of the shower, changing into a pair of clothes and brushing out her wet hair. “y/n!” buck yells. “come here!”

oh god, she thinks. either the two of them got into mischief together, or apollo did something wrong and buck summoned y/n to fix it. her worries are settled when she sees apollo on the floor in front of buck, who was dangling a treat. “look what he learned! apollo, sit.” he obeyed bucks words, and buck cheers him on with a huge smile before looking at y/n. “he’s learning! you’re a good dog, pollo.”

“you know, when i brought him home i definitely didn’t expect you two to become best friends.”

“well you know what they say,” buck says, pecking y/n’s lips as she sits down next to him.

after a normal day, y/n and buck were upstairs on their shared bed. y/n was straddling buck, both of them making out. they were fully dressed, finally out of work clothes and being able to spend time together. “you’re so beautiful, buck.” y/n says, before realizing how distracted he is. “you ok?”

“y-yeah! i’m great, it’s just him,” he says pointing to apollo. “we can’t have sex in front of him, he’s our child!”

“do you want me to put him in the bathroom or something? he can’t get into anything in there.”

buck thinks about it, ready to say yes, but apollo had other plans. he leaps onto the bed, giving small licks to both of their faces. y/n looks at buck, who has an apologetic look on his face. “alright, buddy. you win!” y/n says, slightly defeated by the little guy. “but you are not ruining my sex life.”

“honey, don’t say that in front of him!” buck shouts under his breath.

“it’s not like he heard me!”

“still, his ears are too innocent for that.” y/n rolls her eyes and moves apollo in between them as she moves to the side.

apollo had gotten significantly bigger, now in his awkward puppy stage. his legs were a little too long, his coat was growing in a weird way, but he was still the same old apollo. y/n and buck had brought apollo to the dog park, along with christopher and eddie. christoper adores apollo, taking any opportunity to watch him play around. eddie was throwing a ball around with chris and apollo, watching the dog run after it and bringing to back again. they took turns throwing it so he could fetch it, chris had even been throwing sticks for apollo to run after.

y/n and buck watched from the side, their dog running back up the them every time, jumping up in excitement. they gave him encouraging words with high pitched voices, like he just graduated high school. they were offering him treats and water, and asking him questions like he could answer. eddie mockingly asks them, “why do you guys treat him like he’s royalty?”

“because he runs our house?” buck retorts back at him in question form.

“you wouldn’t get it, dad,” says christopher.

“get what? we don’t even have a dog, how do you get it?”

“i just do, okay?” eddie shakes his head and lets them praise this dog like he just won an academy award.

buck wraps his arm around y/n’s waist, standing behind her and placing his chin on her shoulder. “i think you found a good dog, y/n.”

“i think he found us. plus i called it, i knew you’d fall in love with him immediately.” they watched their no longer tiny dog run around with his friends, his new red collar and bone shaped name tag. apollo didn’t care how they lived their life, because dogs will love people as long as they’re good to them, and they saved his life.

bonus w buck and apollo 🥲:

y/n had come upstairs after cleaning up the living room a bit, just reorganizing some of her stuff and fixing bucks things. when she walked up, she saw buck and apollo on the floor. apollo was dressed up in one of bucks shirts with LAFD and his name on the back. “look! he’s a fire dog!” y/n was laughing hysterically at what they’d gotten into. she left him alone for two minutes and he had already dresses him in human clothes.

“buck, he looks pissed,” y/n says. “he looks like he’s ready to bite your fingers off.”

“he would never! he looks great! maybe he should work at the station.”

“you’d get fired from being a disturbance to the dog,” y/n jokes, thinking of how buck will always just walk up to him and talk to apollo like a toddler and giving him gentle pets and scratches.

“you’re a hypocrite, you would do the same thing.”

“touché,” she says kissing his forehead, smiling at buck and his best friend.

[serxinns]

You gifted me Sorrow i return with Lilies...

This is the aftermath of sorrow flowers by @lady-ashfade a yandere class 1a x reader hope you enjoy

They finally did it they finally killed the pest that was making you suffer! They'll be sure that you'll feel better once again!

As the days went by you started to cough fewer flowers and flowers were starting to fall off your body completely not leaving any vines and thorns around and your classmates were there by you helping you with your recovery!

Momo was trimming off the thorns and vines that were wrapped uncomfortably around your body on your body while Ochaco, Mina, and Hakagure were putting cute little bandaids all over, tsuyu was giving you some of your comfort foods and some tea to relax and Jirou sang some songs for you while you were in your hospital bed but for some reason you didn't utter a "thanks" or made a smile at them but they understood you were probably just tried!

The boys were also helping Iida was making sure you were taking your medications and making sure you weren't working just resting in your hospital bed sero and Denki was entertaining you with funny videos and card games meanwhile katsuki was making you healthy meals but Katsuki was feeling that something wasn't right you weren't reacting to what they were expecting just stared at them with a cold neutral expression barely replying to anything your classmates are saying your other classmates brush it off but to Akatsuki it lingered in his mind

After a week of recovery, you were back on your feet you still were coughing a bit flowers but recovery girls assured you that they'd go away in about a few days when you came back to the dorms everyone was elated seeing you walking on you back to yourself everyone was surrounding your gifts in their hands and praises about how brave you were everyone quiet down when everyone decided to celebrate for your return with a gathering dinner

The dinner-like party was full everyone was chattering among themselves mostly about you or most were eagerly talking to you but all your response was a hum back and a soft nod right after you finished your meal you got up and left "Wait aren't you gotta stay for dessert?" Sato questioned, everyone's eyes were on you now some were looking concerned while others looked suspiciously at you and looked back with a reassuring smile "No thank you I'm rather full but thanks anyway!" Your classmates watched as You walked away as they quietly whispered among themselves about your behavior lately, were you still sick? Was this the aftermath of the disease it has to be! Your no getting tried of them right?

In the next few weeks, you were starting to act cold and rather trying to distance them whenever Kirishima would ask you to lift weights but you declined and just walked away from him iida and Momo tried to invite you to study or at least join for a tea party but to their defeat you excused yourself saying your grades were just fine and just shut the door in their face Mina and Denki tried teasing and playing with you but you weren't smiling and laughing or teasing them back no you weren't even annoyed by it you just told them to stop with a blank expression

Your classmates grew worried about your current behavior where was the old y/n they loved? Many theories were passed around from classmate to classmate everyone was busy worrying about you until they saw it they saw you resting on Tokoyami's shoulder while you were sleeping everyone was jealous of this and wanted to up their game

You watched how everyone in your class started to fall apart everyone was against everyone's neck and neck they were fighting, yelling, and violent they were so desperate and eager to get your affection everyone pulling you away from one another just for you to go to one of the students leaving the others seething with rage, some friendships between them were broken, every day at class everyone was staring at you while glaring daggers at each other, in training your students were beating each other to a pulp in order to at least give them a praise no a thumbs up or even look their way

You watched how everyone was at it for each other like wild animals while sipping on your favorite drink and eating your snack on other hand you knew this was wrong, petty even ,but they murdered the person you loved the most and you will never forgive them so why not get a little revenge before we get to the good part~

[gaybananabread]

I'm so excited to participate in your augtickletober! For number 28, please consider writing lee kirishima! with ler todoroki from my hero academia hehehe, a relaxing massage seems nice~ By the way if the number is already taken, feel free to change to any numbers (probably number 29 or 24 as backups just in case 28 got taken), thank youu!!

TickleTober Day 28 - Massage

Oooooh not a pairing I write for often! Still, the skrimblos must have their fun. Kiri would be the kinda guy to massage his friends, so nice! I hope you Enjoy!

Lee: Todoroki

Ler: Kirishima

Summary: A stressed-out Todoroki passes Kirishima, the boy’s mama-bear instincts kicking in. An innocent massage to help him relax leads to a rather tickly situation.

Warnings: none! This is a tickle fic, so if you don't like that, scroll away!!

Todoroki was stressed, to say the least. Working tirelessly to get his Provisional License, training hard to stay on top, and regular classwork had him going pretty much non-stop. Cold soba was his only escape, and even that was starting to lose its effect. It was all wearing on him, keeping his muscles tense and eyes sunken with dark bags.

The dual-quirked teen sauntered into the dorm’s kitchen, in search of his comfort food. His shoulders ached from tension, his neck and back in similar condition. The cold soba was the only thing he wanted at that moment. When he opened the fridge door, though, he deflated. “Damn it…” He had forgotten to make more the night before, exhausted from another night of rigorous training.

Kirishima walked into the room, a bright smile on his face. “Hey, Todoroki! How’s it…going.” He saw the other student’s tired, saddened form, concern blooming on his face. “Are you okay, man?”

He sighed, closing the door and cutting off the cool air. Was he okay? He wasn’t sure he knew the answer himself. “Uhm…yes. Why do you ask?” 

That only made the bubbly teen’s brows furrow. “Because you look very not okay. You’re more tense than Aizawa sensei after dealing with Bakubro and Midoriya.” He smiled softly, a small huff of air escaping him. Though they didn't interact much, Todo knew he could trust the boy and enjoyed his company. “Maybe I am a little wound up.”

Kiri chuckled, getting a bit closer and opening the fridge. He noticed the lack of his classmate’s favorite dish. “If you want, I could help. I’m not the greatest cook, but I could try and make you some soba. Maybe a massage or something.”

The massage option caught his attention. He was stupidly tense; he could use a break. “I wouldn’t mind a massage, if you’re willing to give one.”

“So formal, Todobro. You’ve gotta loosen up a bit.” He was more than happy to help out his classmate, moving over to one of the dorm couches. “And of course, I’m happy to. You wanna sit down and I’ll help?”

He nodded, following him and sitting down beside the red-haired teen. Normally, he wouldn’t have been so accepting of the concerned gesture. Midoriya and the others had been working with him on asking for help, though; it was working. Kiri went right to work, rubbing circles in his shoulders. It was unfair how quickly the tension began to ease.

Eijirou moved methodically, working to ease his peer’s tense muscles. The sheer amount of knots he had to work out concerned him. “Jeez, man. You’ve really gotta take more breaks. This isn’t healthy.” 

A small hum came from the tense teen; he was too lost in the calming feeling to do much else. At first, when Kiri was working his shoulders, it felt wonderful. He could feel the tension leaving, the tight pains fading to dull aches or going entirely.

As time passed, Kirishima’s hands wandered, moving to the base of his ribs and back. A small, annoying buzz came with the release, making him smile. Todoroki squirmed a little, trying to distract himself from the feeling.

Kirishima noticed the squirms, pulling his hands away. “You good? Sorry if I hurt you, I’m a little rusty.” Of course that’s where his mind went. That boy was too kind. “No, it’s fine. Just needed to move.” With a nod, the massage continued, right back at the dreaded spot.

Okay, that was fine. He could handle a little buzzing, no problem. At least, he thought he could, until Kirishima moved upwards again, gently poking his neck to feel for tension. Todo went rigid, a small giggle escaping him. Oh, he was screwed.

“Todoroki…are you ticklish?” Previous statement retracted. Kirishima wasn’t nice at all for asking. He knew the answer already, and knew the other boy would lie. “Uh, no. Just, um, thought of something funny.”

Bullshit. Kiri sniffed out the obvious lie, deciding to toy with his friend. “Okay then. I’ll be more gentle, just because.” He went back to massaging the other teen’s neck, making sure to scritch his nails on the skin every once in a while. Todoroki bit his lip, thankful his back was to the hero-in-training. Rosy cheeks and a poorly suppressed smile didn’t really help his case.

This continued for about a minute; Kiishima gently massaging the other teen, occasionally letting his nails scrape the sensitive skin, and Todoroki trying desperately to stay quiet. The bright boy’s patience was wearing thin, and although he’d love to continue massaging his friend, the giggle was too enticing. He gave up on subtlety, going and simultaneously squeezing both Todoroki’s sides.

He muffled a yelp, jolting forwards and grabbing the crimson student’s hands. There was no denying it now; Todoroki was ticklish, and Kirishima was gonna help him let loose. Kiri wrapped his legs around the other’s torso, pulling him back and against his chest. It was a classic Kiri play-fight move, one most of the other students feared and loved; it meant that he was about to get it.

Ten fingers drilled into both his sides, pulling a few surprised giggles from the serious teen. He tried to squirm out of it, but he was essentially trapped in a hug; pinned both around the middle by wiggling fingers and waist by strong legs, Todoroki was trapped. He probably could’ve burned his way out of the hold, but he would never purposefully hurt his classmate. 

“Wow, so wiggly, Todobro. I’m just trying to get you to relax! Like these sides, they must be tense if you’re fighting it this much!” He knew that wasn’t why he was squirming so much, but it was an “excuse” to continue the tickling. Besides, teasing him was fun. He experimentally scribbled Todo’s navel, The results were better than he could’ve hoped for.

“K-KIHIRISHIMAHA! NOHOHO!” He practically squealed when he felt the boy’s nails on his belly button, his cheeks almost matching his left hair as he laughed. Kirishima adored the sound, happy that his classmate trusted him enough to cut loose like that. He didn’t really have much of a choice, but still. “Aww, there we go. You gotta release all that inner turmoil and stress, bro. Laughter is perfect!”

His well-meaning teases were completely unfair. Todoroki drummed his feet on the couch, twisting and shoving at his classmate’s hands. He didn’t totally hate what was happening, but still, it tickled! He just wished Kiri’s nails were focusing anywhere but his belly button. “MOHOHOVE! COHOME OHOHOHON!” 

Feeling merciful, he did as he was asked, instead focusing his fingers on the candy-cane boy’s sides.Loud laughter gave way to sweet giggles, surprisingly bright for such a serious kid. “Kihiri- Kihirishihihimaha! Whyhihihi?”

“Why? You’re stressed, that’s why. I’ve never seen someone so determined to have an aneurysm before adulthood before. You could do with some giggles.” He squeezed his navel, making Todoroki emphasize it with a squeal. “Like that! Very cute, by the way. You should laugh more.”

Such a jerk! He wanted to protest anything Kirishima had just claimed, but he couldn’t. Truth was, the tickling was helping. While giggly and flustered, he was much less tense than when he’d arrived. He also felt much happier, though he attributed that to human interaction rather than the goofy touch. 

Kiri could tell he was enjoying himself, at least to an extent. He hadn’t heard the actual word “stop” once. A certain sound, though, made him halt the touch. Was that…?

*grrrrrrlm*

Todoroki’s cheeks somehow got redder, that time from embarrassment. His stomach had growled rather loudly, reminding him of his long day and skipped meals. Kirishima was the one to laugh then, releasing his friend from the tickly hold. “Ohokay, your stomach’s got an opinion. Think we should get you some food, huh Todoroki?”

The half-and-half teen mumbled something under his breath, but nodded in agreement. He was hungry, and some cold soba would be nice. Kirishima chuckled, heading back to the dorm kitchen to prepare some grub for him and his friend. 

Todoroki looked after him, a small smile on his face. He felt much better than he had before, his dampened spirits lifted by the other student’s silliness. He got up, following to help with the dish. He’d have to ask for massages more often…