#her family knew that and loved her anyway

[sprainedwriting]

Adam x fem!reader

Summary: A glimps into the future.

roughly based on this and this; can be read as a little epilogue for college au but also can be a standalone

tag/cw/tw: children, adam and reader as parents, parenting, fight between parent and child, puberty

It’s evening when you return home, the sun was slowly settling into the horizon, saying goodbye with its warm orange rays. A much needed outing is was lured you out of the house.

When you close the door behind you, you hear loud music blast through the house. That already was enough of an indicator on what kind of day today was for your family. You hear the TV quietly play, with cutlery hitting porcelain. While you took one shoe off, you hopped towards the living room to take a peak in.

Your two daughters sat on the couch, eating cereal. 17 and 9. Your oldest and youngest. They barley acknowledge you with a weak “Hey Mama.” You sigh, exhaustion settling into your bones. The nigh-shift has begone for you.

You try not to gossip with your children about their siblings or father. The emphasis is on try, and you needed to check out the situation.

“What’s going on?” You decide on asking. You finally were able to weasel out of your other shoe, stepping into the living room.

“We are jus’ wasching TV.” Your youngest spoke through a mouth full off cereal. You smile at her stuffed cheeks.

Settling on your eldest, you look into her golden eyes. Her dark ringlet curls framed her face perfectly. You always said that she got her hair from sera, and everything else from Adam.

“Father and Mr. Puberty we’re going at it. They were already fighting when we got home.” Your eldest took out her youngest sister today, she just thinks her oldest sister is the coolest. So you made sure they had money and the car to spend time together. You slipped your eldest some extra cash in the morning, thanking her for taking the time out of her day. You remember being 17 and thinking your younger siblings being annoying and embarrassing.

“Hmmm. You need me to bring you to bed, sweetheart?” You ask your youngest. Even though it’s not a school night, messing up a good sleep schedule is horrible. She was already yawning, and rubbing her eyes. She scrunched up her nose, and furrowed her brows.

“No. I can’t sleep when the musics so loud…Can’t I stay up a little longer? Please?” She begged you. You rubbed your neck, knowing that she’s right. Glancing at the clock, you saw that it wasn’t that late.

“Alright. But! When I say you need to get into bed, you do without complaining. That includes brushing your teeth! Got it? You’re a big girl now.” You put on your mom voice, while your daughter nodded her head so vigorously that you were afraid it would fall off. She would have probably agreed to anything if it meant being able to stay up later. You brushed a hand through her hair, your little mini me.

You consider, for a moment, if you should go upstairs. Talk to your oldest son. But he sadly got the temperament from his father, so you knew the best thing is to wait till the music got quieter. You weren’t sure when the fighting stopped and you didn’t want to provoke him some more.

Kissing both your daughters foreheads, you walk towards the kitchen. From there you step out into the terrace, seeing your husband sit on the wood. Sulking. He didn’t even look back, when you walked towards him.

You brushed your hand over his shoulder, sitting down besides him.

“Hi, my love….You wanna talk about it?” You ask him, carefully.

Adam scoffed, but he didn’t shake your hand off. That’s good. He rolled his head, like he was playing with the words in his mind,

“..Nothing to talk about. Just wondering if there’s anyway to reverse ageing to keep ‘em babies forever.”

You laugh at that. The baby stage was Adam’s favourite phase. When they were small enough to fit into his one hand, when they couldn’t talk back, when he and you were their whole world. He misses that. You knew that. He wasn’t bothered about changing diapers and waking up every 3 hours to feed them. His heart broke when they took their first steps (away from him), said their first words, and had their first kindergarten and school days.

For you personally, the fun begins when they can talk back to you and walk. You love watching them grow and seeing what kind of people they grow up to be.

“I’m afraid not.” You sadly tell him. Adam sighs, he wraps his arm around you and pulls you into his side. He was starting to relax.

“I mean, we aren’t getting younger either.” You say, gently taking his face into your hand. He’s still the handsomest guy you know, with the extra wrinkles and gray hair. God bless him for not going bald, his hair line is still strong.

“Yeah, but milfs are hot, baby.” You snort at his words.

“So are dilfs.” He wraps his arm tighter around you. Adam kisses the top of your head.

He rubes his forehead with his free hand, his nose was scrunched up and brows furrowed, groaning and finally confessing to you, “I just..I don’t fucking get why we don’t get along? Like what the fuck? Are we goddamn fire and water?…More like oil and fire because of how much we piss each other off. I literally have to reconnect with fucking nature here so I don’t completely blow up.”

You rub Adam’s back soothingly.

“I think it’s because you guys are so similar. You just know how the other ticks so it hits extra hard when you try to hurt each other.” You whisper to him.

He looks into your eyes, defeated.

“And I think we should have only had daughters. Wayyy better.” He jokes at you. You giggle at that.

“Oh no, they also make me wanna rip my hair out. Everything’s perfect the way it is.” You give him a quick kiss on the lips. The music was getting quieter. You stood up, dusting dirt of your butt.

“Go reconnect with nature while I wrangle with our hellspawn.” You walked back into the house.

Deciding to take a quick peak into the living room, you saw both your daughters fast asleep on the couch. The TV was still running. You softly smile at the sight of them.

Walking up the stairs, you gently knock on the door of your oldest son. His door was decorated in various stickers, all following a dark aesthetic.

“Go away, Adam!.” Came a muffled shout through the door.

If your children started calling you by your first name you would also sit on the terrace, to reconnect with mother nature.

You opened the door, sticking your head through.

“Is just me. You want me to go away?” You gently ask him. It’s like talking to a spooked animal.

His sharp eyes took your form in, till he decided to simply shrug his shoulders. That’s a yes? You stepped in, gently closing the door behind you. It’s kind of like walking on ice, when you talk to a teenager.

Sitting down on his desk chair, you simply spun around in circles while looking around. Since he’s old enough to decorate the room himself, it’s always nice to see the new added details.

“..Can you fucking believe that he asked me to clean up my room? Who does he think he is?” He scrunched up his nose and furrowed his brows.

It was really hard to contain your laughter, but somehow you did it.

“I would have also asked you to do that.”. You tell him with a giggle. You stood up, and walked towards him. He was sitting on his bed.

“You know, you all do that.” You booped his nose, and then gently massaged the point between his brows, “And even though you look like us, talk like us, laugh like us you’re still your own people. That’s weird, you know. Having a baby. Taking charge of another person like that. And then suddenly, they yell at you for buying uncool clothes, or for telling them to complete their chores. When, only a moment ago they couldn’t stand the idea of leaving your side.”

He didn’t look at you. He didn’t need to.

“You really don’t want to talk about it?”

“..Goodnight.” He laid down on the bed. Closing his eyes.

“I love you, sleep well.” With that you left the room. Well that sure was productive.

Walking into your bedroom, you saw that Adam was already in there, getting ready for bed.

“How’s nature?” You playfully asked him.

“It’s fucking calling to me, I swear on that. Returning to the old days of being hunter and gatherers. Wanna come with me?”

“Hmm, no I’m like the biggest fan of modern medicine, you know?….By the way. How dare you ask our son to clean his room?” You playfully asked him.

Adam chuckled at that, “I dunno. I’m just such a horrible father I guess. He fucking called me a control freakish facist?”

You started to get undressed yourself while laughing at that, while Adam watched you with intense eyes.

“How’s it possible you only got sexier with time and pregnancies?” Adam walked towards you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you towards him. You smiled at him, till you remembered something.

“Oh my god! Adam, you won’t believe who I saw today. Guess who’s getting a divorce?”

Adam grinned like he just won in the lottery, “No fucking way!”

[separatist-apologist]

On My Vigilante Shit Again

Summary: At the High Lords Meeting, Rhys doesn't dress for friends-He's dressed for revenge.

Read on AO3

Thank you @velidewrites for the moodboard!

Note: This is what should have happened post High Lords meeting and you can quote me on that

-

“The moment you let him fuck you like an—”

Rhys was going to explode. Was going to kill him. Laws be damned, Rhys stared Tamlin down as he ripped through Tamlin’s feeble defenses and held his mind. Just his tongue, for now. But his mind was pliant, his will weak. Rhys could so easily rip his mind apart, make Tamlin beg and plead. Make him grovel before Feyre on his knees, head bowed so low he couldn’t breathe for the marble slammed against his nose.

Rhys’s hands shook under the table, his jaw clenched so painfully he could taste blood. Had he bitten his cheek or was he merely tasting what was to come? Even as he held Tamlin’s tongue, forcing the High Lord into silence, Rhys thought it wasn’t enough. This was merely a show to the five others watching what he was capable of should they test him.

Should they insult his mate, his wife, his life. Feyre was visibly shaken, freckles stark against her gray face. Her eyes were too bright and if he really parsed through the mingling scents of the room, he knew he’d smell salt gathering in the corners. Tamlin had succeeded in undermining her at her first meeting, at the first test of power and everyone knew it. Weakness wasn’t tolerated among High Lords and they’d be circling her like vultures now, looking for more cracks.

Rhys could kill them all. His eyes flicked toward Beron Vanserra, brown eyes locked firmly on Feyre. It was a dark impulse and yet…if they wanted to test him, he’d destroy all six of them and leave their territories in ruins as their ruthless courtiers fought and killed for power. He’d let them eat themselves alive and then sweet in benevolently and take all of Prythian for Feyre. He’d lay waste to the world and set all that power at her feet.

Did they not know what Rhys would do to keep the ones he loved safe? Happy? Rhys kept Tamlin’s tongue silent for the duration of the meeting with barely a second thought. But there, in the darkest recesses of his mind—the part Feyre never ventured, in part because she didn’t think to—Rhys knew what needed to happen next. And he knew how he’d justify it when the other High Lords came to him, furious and fearful.

Tamlin had opened the gates for Hybern. He was a traitor to them all. That’s what he’d say, anyway. Some of them might guess the true reasons—Helion, certainly, who had very loud fantasies about doing worse to Beron than Rhys intended to do to Tamlin. And some might not care very much at all so long as they were reassured they were in no danger. Tarquin and Thesan, certainly, would know he was a liar and not care—Tarquin especially. Though he wasn’t fond of either Rhys or Feyre, his anger for Tamlin burned so hot that Rhys had been able to feel it in the back of his throat.

Tamlin’s foolishness had cost him more lives than Tarquin was able to count. He wanted to see Tamlin punished, too, and couldn’t for the same reason none of them could—they were forbidden from interfering in the matters of other High Lords. Rhys simply didn’t care. Stalking the halls, he listened until he found Tamlin’s pathetic thoughts.

Where did you go? Feyre’s voice floated through his thoughts, her presence caressing his own as she asked for entrance.

Rhys had never once refused her, but he did then. Go back to sleep, my love. I’ll be back before you can miss me.

Rhys, her voice carried a warning, some of the sleepiness gone. Whatever you’re thinking—don’t. Come back to bed.

I can’t.

It was the truth. They could insult him. Call him a whore, a bastard, evil, Amarantha’s right hand—whatever they liked. Rhys didn’t care. Even if they said it in front of his family in their attempt to humiliate him, Rhys didn’t care. Let them say whatever they liked about him.

But how dare they say a word against Feyre. She was the reason they were able to speak freely at all. If Rhys had his way, they’d get on their knees and worship her like a goddess, not taunt her like she was lesser. 

Rhys!

Maybe it was better to let her see—not to shut her out, but to invite her into his mind. To let her see the lengths he’d go. He’d promised her he’d do this once, didn’t he? That he’d hurt anyone who hurt her and he’d take his time doing it. He’d enjoy it.

As Rhys turned the handle to Tamlin’s door, he dropped his defenses so Feyre could slip in. He could feel her peering through his eyes, settling softly just behind his eyes. Her presence was a comfort, reassuring him that this was the right thing to do.

Rhys found Tamlin standing by a window, hands folded behind his back. When Rhys slipped inside, Tamlin turned, green eyes glowing brightly for just a moment. 

“Have you come to gloat?” Tamlin asked, teeth sharpening ever so slightly.

“Not exactly,” Rhys replied, jamming his own hands in his pockets. 

Tamlin sighed, eyes rolling in his skull. “Have you come to defend your mates honor? Spare me—she has none.”

The hair on Rhys’s neck stood on end.

Don’t, Feyre pleaded softly, her voice a shade too high pitched for his liking. He’s not worth it. 

“She’s the reason you’re standing here,” Rhys reminded Tamlin, forcing himself to remain calm. If he alerted Tamlin to his plan, he wouldn’t get to say everything he needed to say. “You owe her your life.”

“I’ve given her enough—”

“You’ve given her nothing,” Rhys snarled, his magic swirling around him like furious vipers. Tamlin didn’t blink, didn’t blanche, thinking incorrectly that Rhys was all talk and no action. 

“Are you angry about what I said or angry I had her first?” Tamlin spat, a fool to the very end. 

“When I found her locked in your home, it was only her love for you that spared you. I would have ripped you apart piece by piece otherwise.”

Tamlin turned back to the window. “She’ll betray you, too. Feyre isn’t capable of loving anything or anyone but herself and her power.”

Rhys’s stomach twisted in knots. 

“She died for you. For that love.”

“And I tried to make it up to her—”

“You locked her away like a trinket!” Rhys snarled again as Feyre pushed closer against him, talons stroking against his mind lovingly. “You were satisfied to let her waste away so long as she warmed your bed at night. If that’s love, well. I’d say I shudder to think what your hatred feels like, but I am intimately aware of how hateful you can be.”

Tamlin only sighed. “When she leaves you—and she will—I’ll be waiting for your apology.”

Rhys raised a hand as Feyre gasped softly in his mind, understanding right then what he truly intended to do. Tamlin, too, realized the danger he was in. It was too late. Immobile, Tamlin’s eyes widened as Rhys cocked his head to the side.

“You can wait for that apology in the afterlife and we’ll see, when I arrive, who was right.”

“Rhys—!” Feyre burst into the room a mere second before Rhys snapped his fingers. Blood sprayed through the room, coating not just his skin, but Feyre’s too. Where Tamlin had once stood, now there were merely the remnants of a male who’d lived a pathetic half life unworthy of memorial. 

Feyre turned, still in her silken nightdress, eyes wide. “You…”

Rhys didn’t dare back down, though he felt a sliver of genuine fear. “Yes.”

“You shouldn’t…you didn’t…” Her eyes welled with tears as she approached him. Raising a hand, Rhys flinched, expecting her to slap him. Maybe that’s what he deserved.

Soft fingers caressed his jaw. “Thank you,” she whispered. Rhys exhaled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. 

“You’re not angry?” he asked carefully, eyes darting around the room. There was something delicious about his mate soaked in the blood of his greatest enemy. He wanted to strip her naked and lick her clean. 

“No one has ever had me,” she whispered, inching closer. The scent of her arousal slammed into him, nearly knocking him to the floor. “Not like you.”

That was all he needed to hear. Just the knowledge that she could see his worst, ugliest impulses and still love him for it was enough. Rhys needed her right then, so badly he was unwilling to even make the walk back to their shared bed chamber. She knew it, too.

Feyre surged upward on her tiptoes, their mouths crashing in a symphony of heat. Rhys groaned, snaking an arm around her waist to pull her flush against him. 

“I need you,” he told her, unable to add that what he needed was for her to confirm what he already knew to be true. They belonged together—he’d waited his whole life for her, would have waited centuries more. And it had all been worth it, in the end—to know it was her on the other end of all those sleepless nights, the years of misery, the loneliness that had plagued him. No one understood him the way she did, had ever truly looked at his very soul and found it beautiful rather than horrifying.

“You have me,” she told him, arching her neck so he could scrape his teeth against her soft, sensitive skin. “I’m never leaving.”

What would she say if she realized he wouldn’t let her leave? That his hatred of Tamlin was almost unjustified because Rhys understood why someone would want to lock her away and keep her all for themselves. Rhys felt the same urge, felt the same drive to snarl and snap at every male that dared to look at her without showing the proper reverence. They were too casual about her, didn’t venerate her the way they should. Feyre was more than just High Lady—she was a living goddess, the Cursebreaker herself. 

“Fuck,” Rhys groaned, tongue licking a path down her throat to taste the blood adorning her skin like rubies. If Rhys had known she’d taste so good coated in another male's blood, he’d have killed Tamlin at their wedding. That scrap of silk was soaked and when Rhys ripped it away, he found the skin beneath stained red, too. Rhys needed her more than he needed anything else.

They’d condemn him for this. When they found the remnants of Tamlin, they’d smell his arousal and what he’d done atop the bits that remained. Rhys didn’t care—he hoped Tamlin’s soul lingered so he could watch how well Rhys fucked Feyre. And if Tamlin were still alive, Rhys might have told him that he’d fucked Feyre so thoroughly she had no memory of his pathetic attempts at satisfying her.

You were inadequate, Rhys wished he could say. The problem was always you and never her. 

“I can hear your thoughts,” Feyre complained as Rhys sank to his knees. “Stop thinking about Tamlin and your witty comebacks.”

“I have so many things I didn’t get to say,” Rhys complained, pushing her gently against the very same bloodstained window Tamlin had been brooding beside mere minutes before. 

“You can say them at his grave,” she reminded him. 

“You’re so brilliant,” Rhys praised. “And beautiful. And you taste…”

He had his face between her legs as he spoke the words, raising one slim leg to hook it over his shoulders. Feyre exhaled, leaning her head back so her thick hair spilled over her shoulders, the tips teasing peaked, rosy nipples. 

Rhys almost stood back up but Feyre, the clever thing, pushed his head back down. “Focus,” she whispered. He’d forgotten she was still in his mind, listening to his thoughts and watching through his eyes.

“Can you feel how badly I want you?” he whispered, letting his breath curl like shadows against her wet cunt.

“Yes,” she panted, nails scraping over his scalp. 

Rhys let go of his power, drowning the two of them in darkness. His wings flared outward, enveloping the both until she was hidden from the world unless someone happened to be flying by the window her ass was pressed against. Feyre moaned loudly, unconcerned about anyone else hearing. Good. Rhys wanted her screams to echo off the vaulted ceilings, to keep them all awake. Let them hear—let them know how far Rhys would take it. That the true power in his home was Feyre herself.

Feyre was High Lady and Rhys was her sharpened blade. 

Rhys licked up the side of the thigh, cleaning the blood before switching to the other. Feyre was practically trembling by the time he reached her center, the taste of copper mingling with the sweetness of her arousal. Rhys reached upward, using his strength to hold her so she could relax and, perhaps selfishly, so he could spread her further apart. He liked to see her flushed pink with arousal, liked to tease her with his fingers without wholly penetrating her. He wanted her desperate for his cock by the time he finished with her. Rhys teased her with his thumbs, pulling her cunt apart to rub her clit with his fingers and his tongue while Feyre writhed over him, gripping his hair so roughly she was in danger of ripping them out by the roots. Rhys was so aroused it was making him stupid, the throbbing between his legs almost painful.

But he needed to do this. Needed her to see him on his knees before her, worshiping her the way the rest of the world refused to. Besides, the taste of her was soothing something wicked and angry in his chest, calming the raging beast threatening to go on a rampage.

Feyre’s breath hitched in her chest, her free hand coming to his shoulder to stroke the edge of his wing just the way he liked. He didn’t need her to touch his cock at all to come—if she kept her cunt in his face and her hands on his wings Rhys would be spent before he ever had her grinding against him.

Still, Rhys began to work faster, tongue flat against her just the way he knew she liked. Feyre began rolling her hips against him, her orgasm building. Ride her through it—that’s all he had to do, now. Rhys liked when she used him like this, taking her pleasure without concern as to what he thought about her. Daring to press into her mind, Feyre’s arousal slammed into him with enough force to nearly knock him on his ass. 

Her thoughts were a mindless chant of one word—Rhys, Rhys, Rhys, Rhys, Rhys—

If he hadn’t been so turned on, he might have wept. Unwilling to disappoint her in the final moments before she fell over that ledge, Rhys doubled his efforts, looking up as he licked her to watch her come. Feyre was radiant, glowing like silvery moonlight as she fell apart. Head thrown back, breasts arched toward the ceiling and her skin flushed, Rhys wished he could paint so she could see herself the way he did.

“Stop,” she panted, fingers sliding from his hair to cup his face. “I can hear you, I—”

“I need you,” was all he could manage to say. He could have laid her out on the bed if he’d wanted to, taken his time. But Rhys didn’t want to. He wanted her right then, right now, and he’d have her against that window or not at all.

Feyre clawed at his clothes, drawing forth a talon to slice open his shirt. Rhys didn’t want to think about the walk of shame the pair were going to have to undertake when they were finished. Perhaps he’d call Cassian and beg his friend for a favor and endure the inevitable teasing that would happen in the aftermath. It was well worth it—Rhys couldn’t wait to tell Azriel, Mor, and Cassian that he’d slaughtered Cassian. Unlike the rest of the ruling elite, his friends would find it funny.

“Now,” Rhys told Feyre, hoisting her up so her back was flat against the window. He offered no other warning before he slid his aching cock into her body. Rhys nearly lost himself, rutting into

Feyre like the animal Tamlin claimed he was without a care or concern for the female pressed against him. Her body gripped him so tightly, still convulsing from the orgasm he’d given her with his mouth. 

“You’re so fucking tight,” Rhys whispered, biting gently against her shoulder. “Sometimes I think you were sent to destroy me.”

“You should have run from me, then,” Feyre replied as she raked her nails down his back.

“Dying at your hands would be a gift,” he said, half delirious from pleasure. All Rhys could focus on were his hips, thrusting hard enough that the window rattled in time behind them. His words were merely his unfiltered thoughts given voice because Rhys had never learned when to shut his mouth. 

“There will be no death for you,” Feyre told him, lips gliding over his jaw. “Only me.”

Rhys shuddered, holding her so tightly against him he felt her ribs groan in protest. He needed her like he needed the air in his lungs, the sun on his skin, the wind on his wings. How had he managed so long without her? Rhys could barely remember that time before, the memories tinged gray with loss. 

How much different would every horror have been if he’d had her at his side? If he knew she was at his back, bow pulled taut, gaze focused and lethal on his enemies? Rhys tried to imagine Feyre going up against his father, against Amarantha in the first war, against Tamlin and his family.

His breath stuttered at the image. Gods, they would have been unstoppable. 

“Rhys,” Feyre breathed, holding his face so he had to look at her. “Come for me.”

Rhys was everything Tamlin accused him of being, but without any shame. He was fucking her like an animal because that was how Feyre liked it. She panted, nails clawing at his tattooed skin until the smell of his fresh blood mingled in the air. He was desperate and needed to feel her come again, wanted her wrapped so tight around his cock he couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, could do nothing but wait until she released him.

Snaking a hand between them, Rhys rubbed circles over her clit—it took two, maybe three before Feyre cried out, allowing Rhys the pleasure of capturing the sound with his tongue and teeth. 

Taste yourself, he ordered, thrusting into her with brutal efficiency. Feyre was pliant in his arms, her cunt just as tight as he’d hoped it would be and twice as wet. Rhys couldn’t have stopped himself even if he wanted to, coming with a snarl so loud there was no way everyone in the hall didn’t hear him.

Rhys poured himself into her, half wishing something would take. He didn’t want to stop, even when he was spent, balls empty. He could have kept going if he took a minute to catch his breath.

Feyre, too, seemed to be thinking the same thing.

“You’re so beautiful covered in blood,” she murmured, brushing a lock of hair out of his eyes.

Rhys suddenly didn’t care if someone watched him carry Feyre naked through the palace. Fuck everyone.

“Come on,” he purred, pressing a soft kiss just beneath her ear. “Let's get you to bed.”

[buck-up-buck]

Canon Events that have happened over the three episodes that have me going INSANE (like, these actually happened and are not Fanon.)

Buck asked Tommy for a tour of Harbour, not because he wanted to consider learning to fly, or leave the 118, but soley because he wanted to hang out with Tommy.

Buck used Christopher for information on Tommy.

Buck pretended to suddenly be into Basketball so that he could go to the game, just because he knew Eddie and Tommy would be there.

MADDIE MOCKED BUCK ABOUT OPENLY HAVING A CRUSH ON EDDIE.

Buck body slammed Eddie while playing Basketball (honestly, I still cannot get over the fact that he YEETED THIS BOII).

Tommy got Buck's address from Eddie and chose to come around to apologise to Buck even though, TECHNICALLY, Buck was the one acting like a spoilt brat all episode.

BUCK WAS KISSED BY A MAN. SPECIFICALLY, BUCK WAS KISSED BY TOMMY. And then proceeded to be swept off his feet by this man and was left starstruck in his apartment, after Tommy openly communicated that he had to go to work and wasn't just kissing and bailing.

"I'm an Ally."... Need I say no more.

Buck acted like a totally fucking idiot on his first date with Tommy, and proceeded to have Tommy cut the date short because of how unready he seemed. WHICH BY THE WAY, TOMMY AGAIN COMMUNICATED SO BEAUTIFULLY WITH BUCK AND PROCEEDED TO STILL CALL THIS MAN ADORABLE. HE CALLED HIM ADORABLE FOR CRYING OUT LOUD.

Buck accidently outed himself to Maddie because he was doing a ramble ramble about his lil buck'ed up date.

Buck told Eddie he was on a date with Tommy, and Eddie proceeded to be the bestie of besties to Buck and told him, they all loved him anyways. HE USED THE WORDS. Bucks face in that scene will forever make my lil gay heart WEEP.

Buck told Eddie he couldn't stop thinking about the hot pilot that kissed him. CRYING.

Buck proceeded to grow the fuck up and apologised to Tommy, face to face, out in a public space, knowing full well that Tommy could have dropped his ass there and then, but still wanted to show him how sorry he was, and that he was, in fact, ready.

BUCK INVITED TOMMY TO BE HIS DATE TO THE MADNEY WEDDING DESPITE ONLY technically GOING ON TWO DATES. AND THEN TOMMY. SAID. YES. HE SAID YES. YES.

Buck also then invited Tommy to Chim's bachelor party, HELD HIS ARMS OPEN ACROSS THE ROOM READY FOR A HUG, told Tommy off for his outfit, showing off true Clipboard Buck form, AND THEN TOUCHED HIS PECK.

Eddie, the bestie of besties, got all sappya and jokey when he saw Tommy and Buck together.

Buck got all pouty when Tommy had to go to work, BUT TOLD HIM TO BE SAFE. HE SAID BE SAFE DAMNIT.

Buck got all goofy and smiley when he saw that Tommy had arrived at the hospital, MEANING, that he was most likely texting Tommy all day updating him on everything that was going on, even if Tommy couldn't respond while attending to the fire.

BUCK. CALLED. TOMMY. A. BEAST. HE SAID THIS CANONICALLY. ARE YOU JOKING. HE FULLY ATTACKED MY MAN, WHILE HE WAS COVERED IN SOOT AND SHIT, SNOGGED HIS FACE OFF IN A HOSPITAL WAITING ROOM, AND CALLED HIM A BEAST. I AM DECEASED.

Buck, the idiot that he is, proceeded to out himself, to his entire family, by coming back into the room, most likely 15 to 20 minutes after leaving, covered in soot because he had been uncontrollably making out with his hot pilot boyfriend.

Eddie, the bestie of besties, GOT SO FUCKING SMUG WHEN HE SAW BUCK AND TOMMY WALK BACK IN THAT ROOM. HE PULLED THE SAME FACE I PULL WHEN MY FRIENDS HAVE COME BACK FROM MAKING OUT WITH PEOPLE AND I AM HERE FOR IT. EDDIE YOU BESTIE SLAY SLAY SLAY.

Hen, the queen that she is, has most likely spoken to Karen about her suspicons of Buck's sexuality, and procceed to say ABOUT DAMN TIME. SHE KNEW THIS WHOLE TIME. HER GAYDAR IS ON FIRE. I LOVE HER.

Again, all of these events happened IN ACTUAL EPISODES, not in a fanfiction. I am FERAL over this. Bi!Buck is the best thing to ever happen to me.

Thank you for coming to my ted talk and if you don't ship BuckTommy, leave.

[itsmarsss]

scandalous (Blitzø x Fem!Succubus!Reader x Stolas) [Helluva Boss] pt. 1 - the prince

How the mighty do fall.

(Getting into a weird three-way situation with an imp and a succubus isn’t exactly considered classy, Stolas.)

Word count: 1,520

Warnings: I mean. depression. arranged marriage. this part doesn’t contain actual sex only mentions of it but others might idk, me taking myself way too seriously writing this, this has no dialogue but don’t give up on me im actually a pretty dialogue heavy person but this only works if this chapter has no dialogue

If you ever asked Stolas, he’d say he was never one to cause a scene.

If you asked anyone else, they’d say he’s lying.

Stolas had always been fond of a little drama and drawn to a bit of flair, akin to exaggeration and grandeur like no other. Be it in the way he speaks, acts or reacts to hell around him, be it how he expresses his emotions or his thoughts and even his feelings towards others.

Emotions, thoughts, feelings. Stolas was always full of those, ever since he was an ugly, pink, featherless little project of a bird. They have been all-consuming ever since he can remember. And he remembers.

Stolas can recall the confusion in his father’s voice whenever he cried as a kid, as if the action was strange and foreign, unfit for a demon like him.

And perhaps it was.

Stolas remembered many things, and yet he could not recall a single time he had seen his father cry- or show any sort of weakness, for the matter. Paimon was always stern and centered, and Stolas is sure the only thing close to weakness he’s ever expressed was his inability to be more than his status- to be an actual father. He doubted his father would consider that a weakness. What was fatherhood next to being royal, anyways, right?

It was disconcerting to grow up certain that, between his father and all of his brothers, he was, without a doubt, the weakest. After all, how could he not be? He was scared, of a many things, most of the time. He felt things too deeply in his heart and he worried too much and too often about too many things. He was aware of all of that.

But, as he grew up, Stolas decided he was fine with it, if he meant he got to genuinely feel things. Because Octavia had come to exist, and he could never in his heart find the willpower to act as cold to her as his own father did to him.

Yes, he decided he was fine with being weak, if that’s what being able to love unconditionally took. He was fine with being weak, if that’s what being loved took.

He may not have loved his father, or even liked him, for the matter. But he promised to himself he’d do anything it took for Octavia to love him.

And how it filled him with pure and utter joy to feel loved for the first time in his life.

He may not have loved Stella, either, but their union had brought him his daughter, and nothing in the entirety of the universe mattered more to him than her. And so he was grateful for their arrangement, after all, despite the bitterness of it all.

With Octavia’s teenage years came the flood, though. Stolas cried himself to sleep almost every single night for years to come as he was reminded of the fact that being grateful for what his marriage brought him was not enough to make him happy to be in the situation in which he found himself, unable to exist as he was inside of his own home without fearing the judgement of a wife who loved him just as much as he loved her - not even a tiny little bit- and unable to shield his daughter from the unhappy family he’d once feared she would have to endure.

Stella was never someone Stolas particularly liked. In fact, he quite disliked her, from the moment he laid eyes on her as his father told him they were betrothed to one another, at much too young of an age.

At first, it surely was purely the hatred for the fact that his fate was tied to her and there was nothing he could do to escape, and the sense of impending doom that came with every year that passed as he knew he grew closer to approaching the day there would be turning back, and watched the time pass as an expectator of his own life, as there was nothing he could really do but comply.

Royal life had its renounces.

When the day came for their marriage to be sealed, the moment finally materializing itself as real instead of bad news he’d try to push away and avoid dwelling into for too long, Stolas promised himself he’d try to get over those feelings and make an effort to know her better. If they would be tied to one another from this moment on, he could at least try to make it all not so miserable.

It was a task set to fail.

When Octavia was conceived, Stolas felt nothing but relief. After all, this entire situation was based purely on business, all-dependent on the birth of an heir. Which meant, in some way, they were a bit more free than before. However much that can be in the situation they found themselves in.

Relief came first, dread came second. At only 19 years old, what did Stolas know of parenting anyway? Logically, he knew this would be happening. Logically, he’d known that for almost a full decade. Logically, that should have been enough for him to be prepared.

But he felt anything but prepared. How was he, who felt lost at all times, who cried at the slightest things, who didn’t ask for all of this, supposed to be a father? What twisted parameters did he have, considering his own?

He only hoped time would ease those feelings.

Throughout the years, he learned those feelings never do leave you, and that parenthood is forever a state of worry. You never truly feel ready- there’s just not much more that you can do than try your best.

To be loved by Octavia was enough. Or… at least it should be, shouldn’t it? Was it selfish, or perhaps even inconsiderate, unfair to her that at times he found himself longing to be loved by someone who’s existence wasn’t bound to him? Wishing to know if someone would ever care not because they were betrothed to him and not because they were his own blood, but simply because they liked who he was? Enjoyed his company? Felt genuine attraction towards him?

When thoughts of the sorts consumed him it was to not punish himself mentally for thinking such frivolous things, for having such superficial wishes. But it wasn’t hard to figure out where it all stemmed from. After all, when the only partner you ever have ever had in your entire life hadn’t any say in choosing you, it’s only natural to wonder what it would be like to be with someone who did choose him.

When you’ve had no say in choosing the only partner you’ve ever had in your life, in turn, it’s only ever natural, too, to wonder what it would be like with someone you would have chosen to be with. Someone who excited you, who made you feel things. Stolas didn’t even know what exactly those things were supposed to be, but longed to feel them nonetheless.

The day Blitzo, someone he hadn’t heard of in decades, was caught trying to sneak into his palace, during the most depressing party ever thrown in all seven reals, Stolas felt excitement for the first time in a long while. It’s almost like his brain had a reaction before he even processed it. Like it was stuck repeating the same thing over and over and over: Friend. Friend. Friend.

Sure, Blitzo wasn’t his friend. They hadn’t been friends for, once again, literal decades. In fact, they had only ever been friends for about a day.

But Blitzo was his first ever friend. And you don’t just forget that. He never would, at least.

And that night they spent together, something in Stolas changed. That night, he felt wanted. For the first time in his life, he felt desired. For the first time in his life, sex wasn’t just business. It wasn’t just an obligation or a means to an end. For the first time in his life, sex was fun.

He knew it was supposed to be fun. He knew it was fun for most people. He had just stopped hoping it would ever be fun for him.

And, sure, he also knew what they did was wrong. But he couldn’t get himself to care as much as he probably should have, because, truth be told, Stella could pretend to have been hurt by it however much she wanted, but they both knew she never really was.

“That was the sound of a fucking divorce!”

A couple hours later, sitting on his bed in shock, he could still barely believe he had really just done what he did- what they should have done so long ago- and Stolas just started laughing to himself. The more he laughed, the harder it was to stop. He knew he just had to look like a maniac like that, but couldn’t possibly get himself to care, because, for only a split second did the thought of not being supposed to let his servants see him in that state pass through his mind, but it only made him laugh harder.

He’d just announced his divorce to the wife he’d been set to marry since birth, can’t be much more scandalous than that.

A/N: would you believe me if i said this started as an idea for what was supposed to be only a funny silly little oneshot with dick jokes and public embarrassment?

Requests for Blitzø and Blitzø x Stolas are open! I’m also SO hyperfixated on this show rn so if y’all wanna chat abt hcs or this series be my guest I’d be happy to talk and i don’t bite unless asked nicely luv y’all <3

[mostly-marvel-musings]

Where Do We Go From Here - Part 2

Summary: Two funerals. Two couples. A tragedy like no other. And one big secret.

A/N: Written for @fandom-free-bingo Here’s something different, I hope you enjoy it. Leave a comment, heart and reblog if you enjoyed the story.

Pairing: Tony Stark x Pepper Potts, F! Reader x Rhodey, Tony Stark x Reader (eventually)

Warning: 18+ angst, minors DNI, death, infidelity, smoking, mentions of self-harm and suicide. Hurt comfort.

Word count: 2721

Square filled: We deserve much better than we’ve had

Read Part 1 here

Free Fandom Bingo Masterlist

.

“I love you, Mr. Rhodes.”

“I love you more, Mrs. Rhodes.”

Content.

That was a primary feeling among others, contentment and giddiness. It was the happiest day of your life. You had married your love, James Rhodes. The ceremony was everything you had wished for and more, all of your friends and family watched happily as you exchanged vows and rings, grinning ear to ear as you were declared man and wife.

The day you met him, or rather evening at Tony Stark’s party, hadn’t been the most perfect. Hell, you were too wasted to even remember but Rhodey had dropped you home - more like carried you, tucked you in bed, and left some Advil along with a note like a gentleman, a tiny smiley face with his number that had you giggling like a teenager. And that was the beginning of your relationship.

And exactly six months later you were dancing to your favorite song with your new husband who had a firm arm around your back, the other holding your hand while you lay your cheek against his chest, loving every minute of the moment. The song ended and you broke apart, reluctantly letting him go, you pecked him on his lips a couple times before excusing yourself to use the ladies room.

The door seemed to be locked so you gave a soft knock, frowning when you heard muffled voices of what sounded like two people arguing. Twisting the knob, you entered anyway because you couldn’t wait and stumbled on Tony and Pepper. They had been squabbling.

“I’m really sorry guys, I–I couldn’t wait.” you hurried into a stall, gathering your wedding gown as best as you could. You heard Pepper storm off, the clicking of her heels wasn’t exactly silent, before Tony’s footsteps receded soon after. As you headed out, Tony had been leaning against the opposite wall, looking tired and mildly irritated.

“All okay?” you asked, genuinely concerned for two of your closest friends. He waved his hand in dismissal and shrugged, giving you a tight-lipped smile.

“Was that payback for me accidentally walking in on you in your bridal gown?” Tony jested, making you giggle as well as recalled the moment that happened just a few hours ago. Someone incorrectly told Tony about Rhodey’s room and he had barged in on you with two of your bridesmaids after you had just put on your wedding dress. He could’ve sworn his heart had stopped at that moment. You were stunning, so beautiful he actually struggled to form words. Clearing his throat awkwardly, Tony had left, not before giving you a once over, the image of you had been stuck in his mind for posterity. He couldn’t help but feel how lucky his best friend was.

“Oh God no! That was um, I just really had to go. I didn’t know you guys would be in there, arguing.” you blinked, shuffling from one foot to the other.

“While women’s bathrooms are at the top of my list for quarreling, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

Tony had a knack for making a joke out of serious situations, you knew that, you wondered if that was one of the reasons for him and Pepper arguing. Pepper, as far as you knew, was a no-nonsense person. As the two of you walked back towards the hall, you saw your new husband deep in conversation with her. Thinking nothing of it, you turned to Tony.

“I should probably–”

“Good luck with–”

You spoke at the same time, chuckling as Tony scratched the back of his neck, looking back up at you with a sincere smile on his face.

“Good luck with your marriage, Y/N. I hope you two are happy, and not just for the pictures.”

The sun had risen a few hours ago, heavy curtains blocked most of the light where you lay in the guest bed, working up the courage to face the day. Pepper’s funeral had been another painful reminder of your new reality. People kept offering their condolences to Tony who had his stoic facade on, occasionally looking out for you to check if you were still around. You had made it a point to be there for him, he wasn’t exactly volatile but the man needed you to ground him, probably more than you needed him. Or maybe it was the same. Who knew?

All you knew was if there was anybody in the world who could get what you were going through, it was Tony. And it was the same for him. It was the strangest and the most tragic connection you two had now.

You stood outside your house and stared at it, a house that held so many memories, happy memories with you and James. It was now just walls and bricks. Tony had been reluctant to leave you alone but after much assurance, he dropped you here and left for work.

You went on a cleaning spree once you stepped in, the kitchen had been dirty, your bed was unkempt. Blasting on some loud music that you knew James would’ve hated if he were alive, you cleaned the house. And you actually felt better once you were finished. It was exhausting but therapeutic. Your mood had been lifted enough for you to make a batch of mini blueberry pies to take back to Tony’s. The only thing that you dreaded was opening the closet, conflicted between never wanting to find out what he had been hiding in there and wanting to know everything and be done with it.

.

He was smiling. Not believing this was his reality now, everything was perfect, everything felt right. The way it was supposed to be. A comfortable peace settled in his chest as he watched you from afar, laughing with your friend, Pepper as you cooked. A glass of wine in one hand while you stirred a pot with the other, lips curved into the most gorgeous smiles that always set his heart racing, Tony could feel the love radiating off of him.

Catching his eye, you winked, causing him to chuckle before making your way over, your beautiful face forming a frown as you saw the cup of coffee in his hand.

“Coffee? Really, Tony?” you placed your hands on your hips, giving him a stern look.

“And then you wonder why you can’t sleep at night.”

“I mean, I plan on keeping you awake with me…” he trailed off, smirking as he pulled you close by your waist.

“Oh? I didn’t know we had those kinda plans tonight, Mr. Stark.” your fingers had found their way into his hair while he placed soft kisses along your neck, feeling your body mold perfectly against him.

“Now you’ve got your reminder, haven’t you Mrs. Sta–”

Tony jolted awake, the sound of the buzzer outside broke the little dream into a sad reality. Once again, he had fallen asleep on the couch. A habit that Pepper hated, one that had led to several arguments in the past. The small screen by the door revealed your face, Tony’s previous dream flooding his mind once more, making him shake his head as if it could be brushed off.

“Hey!” you gave Tony a small smile, stepping inside the house and immediately noticing the blanket on his couch.

“Were you asleep? Shit! I’m so sorry.”

He shrugged and waved it off, saying it wasn’t a big deal, narrowing his eyes as he noticed something on the blouse you wore.

“I cleaned the house, it felt great! Which I don’t think I’ve said in what feels like forever. I also made those mini blueberry pies you like. Here.” you handed them to him, watching his face light up genuinely after weeks. It made all of the efforts worth it.

“You ate some too, didn’t you?”

“Huh?”

Tony chuckled and reached out to pick up a tiny piece of fruit from your collar, his fingers linger over your skin. Looking down, you noticed the purple-red stain in a couple other spots too, mentally cursing yourself for being so sloppy.

“The stain is gonna set..” you murmured, trying to rub it off with your nails and failing.

“Um, you could wear one of my t-shirts, if you want. I’ll get one for you.” Tony suggested, promptly heading upstairs when you nodded in agreement.

Deciding on taking a shower while you were at it, you turned on the faucet and let the hot water cascade down your body, your weary muscles relaxing under it. Your mind went about this arrangement you had come to, you were living with your best friend’s husband for weeks now, sleeping in the guest bed, dealing with the deaths of your significant others who happened to be in an affair. It was all the makings of a drama movie.

Tony had been your support system, a shoulder to cry on and quite frankly the only person you could tolerate. He didn’t look at you with sympathy, nor did he offer unsolicited advice, he was just there, to hold your hand when you needed, to wipe your tears when you had bouts of anxiety and broke down, Tony was there and that was enough.

Slipping on his t-shirt felt oddly comforting, it smelt of something that was distinctly Tony Stark - a mix of coffee, cigarettes and cologne. Heading downstairs, you noticed him nursing a cup of coffee in his hands as he sat on the kitchen counter.

“Coffee? Seriously? It’s time for dinner, Tony Stark.” you shook your head, your voice breaking him out of his reverie.

His heart definitely skipped a beat. You sounded eerily similar to the dream he just had, two, you wore his clothes which made something bloom in his chest, something that was probably inappropriate. He found his restraint slipping by the minute.

Raising his hands in defeat, he placed the mug away and held out a bottle of wine for you.

“I had this one saved, I know it’s your favorite. What do you say?”

You could use a drink, you thought. Or ten. And the fact that he had your favorite bottle saved made you smile at his thoughtfulness. You had dinner in silence, a comfortable one though before Tony dug into one of the small pies you had made.

“I swear to God, I would’ve married you just for these.” he realized what he’d said the next second, quickly apologizing and cursing himself under his breath.

“I found Pepper’s clothes on his closet, Tony.”

You didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to cause him more pain but it slipped out.

“I burned them.” you added quickly, watching him give you a small nod, as if to say it was the right thing to do.

“Fuck them.” you whispered.

“Yeah, fuck them.” Tony agreed, clearing out your plates. You watched him clean them, noticing he wasn’t wearing his wedding band anymore.

“Are we bad people, Tony?” you asked a few breaths later, staring out the window with your wine glass. Tony sighed, making his way over next to you, shoulders almost brushing.

“You know we’re not, Y/N. We deserve much better than we’ve had. Cheating is a choice, a choice they both made and broke vows. It doesn’t reflect our character, it reflects theirs.”

He was right. Somehow he always said the right things.

“Did you read this in a bad self-help book somewhere?” you jested, angling your body towards him after hearing him chuckle.

“Oh yeah. I’ve got about nine hundred quotes just ready to roll out whenever.”

You felt yourself laugh, a version of yourself that was earlier buried so deep down, you thought she’d never come out. Tony placed a stray lock of hair behind your ear, his fingers caressing your cheek softly as he stepped closer.

You swore your heart was beating loudly enough for him to hear, your eyes glancing down at his lips. Now just inches away, you placed your hands on top of his and took in a deep breath.

“We can’t, Tony.”

“Why not?” he hadn’t moved away, he touched his forehead to yours and closed his eyes, his breath mingling with yours.

“We’re not those bad people, remember?” you breathed, not really wanting him to go away but you had to do the right thing. You didn’t want him or you to regret what would happen in the spur of the moment. He kissed you on your forehead, his soft lips still lingering against your skin as he spoke.

“We are people who repressed our feelings for far too long though. I know I am.” he murmured, leaving you confused.

What did he mean? Repressed feelings?

Opening your eyes, you found his brown orbs imploring yours, saying everything that was left unsaid between you over the years. Cupping his face, he leaned into your touch instinctively, still not moving from his place.

“I’ve had feelings for you way before any of this happened, Y/N. I thought you knew.” he whispered.

You did. You just never found the courage to confront him about it or even act on your own. You were married to his best friend, for God’s sake. And now…

“Would you regret this if I told you how much I’ve wanted you, Y/N?”

Tony had been holding himself back for a long time, he couldn’t any more. He would stop if you told him to, no questions asked, but something inside him said you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

“Answer me, Y/N. Would you regret it?”

Tears filled in your eyes and spilled over, down your cheeks where they met Tony’s gentle fingers that wiped them off. You were waiting for the voice inside your head to tell you this would be a mistake. That voice never spoke up.

“No.”

That simple word was a sentence in itself. It was all Tony needed to hear before closing the distance. He kissed you softly at first, melding his lips against yours as he pulled you against his chest. Kissing him was like coming home after a long, tiring day. It was new and yet familiar, like you were doing something right for once. He coaxed your mouth open to deepen the kiss, a mix of blueberries and wine that felt so right to him too.

Everything else felt like a beautiful blur to you. He carried you up the stairs, never breaking the kiss, laid you on the mattress, peeling his t-shirt off your body and admired your flushed skin. Nudging you with his nose, your eyes fluttered open to reflect zero traces of regret, giving him a signal to go ahead. You could think about the million other things running through your mind later, right now all that mattered was you and Tony.

His clothed shaft made its presence known as his hips drove forward, his head now dipped low between your breasts as he caressed your body. A needy moan left your lips as he peeled your shorts off, fingers teasing your moist entrance.

You undressed him quickly, wanting and needing him to make you feel good. Caging you with his arms on either side of your head, Tony pushed inside your heat, welcoming the warmth that enveloped his cock so well. His name fell from your lips in a soft sigh, urging him closer as you wrapped your legs around him.

Everything fell into oblivion as Tony fucked you, drove you to a point of ecstacy and held you as you fell apart. Kissed you like there was no tomorrow and yet all of his kisses felt like promises, promises of a better tomorrow. A future that would be better than your past, and your present.

[the-parasites-control-me]

Erm..

Pairing; Geto Suguru × reader

Content; smut ig..?

Geto was a busy person and you knew that, you loved him though he barely had time for what he called a 'monkey'— but you just took that as a sweet nickname he calls you. Actually you didn't even care about him sometimes cause of the heavy workload you have. Though it was kinda toxic, you still made it look like a nice relationship infront of friends and family because if they knew, they would just start yapping about weird nonsense.

In this cute relationship of yours you both had little sex since you were both really nonchalant people and usually manage to go to work all day without even considering your sexual desires. But this time, this time was very different.

You and Suguru were out on a simple coffee date or as you thought you were. Anyways, you ordered a cappuccino while Geto ordered tea. The waitress came and you both had made eye contact. Great! She said, and it was so familiar, something was off but— eh, it's just a waitress. You said, trying to convince yourself that nothing was wrong.

Hey, by chance do you know anybody named Shoko..? You asked, trying to confirm that she was just a waitress— None, ma'am. See, I was right! You shouted in your brain. Gosh, I can't believe I got so paranoid over a innocent waitress...

Hmm..? Paranoid, what are you even talking about y/n. Geto ordered you to calm down and shut your mouth because he wanted to enjoy his tea peacefully and you obeyed him like the little monkey you were. When your cappuccino had finally arrived, you immediately thanked the waitress and drank your cappuccino. Little did you know that it was spiked, and it was not the normal 'spiked drink' it was the aphrodisiac kind of drug.

After you both finished enjoying your little date, you both went to work again— just like normal right..? Well, you were absolutely wrong. After 2 hours of working on a specific document you started to feel oddly dizzy and lightheaded. Shit, my head is in scrambles, ugh, it wouldn't be a sin to skip work today, right? Eh, whatever. You said before leaving to head straight home. When you finally arrived home, you were surprised to see Suguru laying down on the couch, eyes covered by this arm, groaning.

Suguru.? I thought you were at work..? You asked, baffled to see him skipping work. Something was definitely wrong about this whole occurrence and you needed to get to the bottom of it. You tried to call Shoko for help, which was your best friend but there was no signal? Weird, you vaguely remember paying the internet bills this month, how come?

Fine, I'm leaving to see her. You said before picking up your keys and trying to leave, but before you could even do that you were tackled by Geto, panting and groaning as he removed his joggers and underwear, his cock springing out, angry tip was leaking pre-cum. Suguru!? What are you do— you tried to question him but was silenced as he kissed you. Hngh,sshut your haa— fucking mouth. He muffled while you both kissed. You wanted it to stop but you also needed his dick inside you. Geto lowered his head equal to your pussy and started to lick your bud before eating you out, it was so fucking amazing that you started to moan. Ngh G- Geto! He's had enough of tasting your juices, he craved to be inside your tight walls so bad it was almost like a slave drag. He started to insert his index finger in your small cunt pumping it in and out. Shit, this was some hardcore sex, you thought. Fuck— haa, G- Geto! You moaned in pleasure due to his skill in fingering, I mean how did he even develop that skill? Before you could even stop to think about weird reasons he had already aligned his cock with your hole. Good luck monkey, haa— shit. He starts to thrust in and out surprisingly at a slow pace little did you know he was going to make somebody's monkey limp today.

He starts to moan in pleasure but notices you trying to stay silent which makes him irritated since it just means that you're not pleased by his cock so he decides to thrust at a faster pace making all your juices flow to the base of his dick. You little ungh— haa, slut, you better mo—! He was suddenly cut off when your walls started to clench and tighten around his member. You broke out into inaudible moans, fuck, you were about to cum. Geto's pace remained fast and strong, making you whimper and moan in pleasure, this was all too much for you especially when your ass was filled with red hand marks because of him.

You gripped the sheets, sweat drops forming on your forehead, this was it, you were fucking about to climax and Suguru knew that. Oh, is my little bitch about to come..? My, my it seems you were so fucking horny f'me. He said before slamming down on your poor cunt at an impossible pace. It was sooo fucking good including the feeling of having your pussy walls get filled every single time he pumped his cock.

Shit! Shit! Shit! Fuck, m'gonna cum! Argh—! After one last push he finally reaches heaven, ropes of cum gushed into your warm cunt as you sprayed his cock with your own. You both were such a moaning mess, and didn't even notice that somebody was watching.

Until he spoke. Aww man, why do people leave me out when they do something fun! Geto snarled at the intruder which was— his own best friend.

GRRRRRRR, MY BRAIN IS GETTING BOMBARDED BY WEIRD THOUGHTS 😔

MEUEHHEHEHEHE I LOVE YALL 😜

[sortasirius]

"There Goes the Groom" and Buck's Queer Joy

Hey so...remember when I did post ep meta for two years? Anyway we're back like we've never left.

Best Hen <3

OBSESSED with micromanaging party planner Evan Buckley. The clipboard was there in spirit.

"You are late."

I'll take married for several years for $500, Alex.

"Ooo sliders."

"Ah ah. No."

"You didn't just do that." PLEASE

Tommy giving Eddie a bro-y high five and then a soft, sweet "hey" for Buck and a hug??? Fellas I might need to be sedated.

Also obsessed with the tinge of bitchiness in Eddie's tone. It's like jealousy without even realizing it's jealousy. And I think it's an interesting mix of "hey my best friend has a new friend" and something else that Eddie cannot label.

Ryan Guzman you must be studied for that little side eye lmfaoooo

I LOVEEEEE TOMMY HE'S SUCH A BITCH, he said I do not care for your party themes. Me for real.

Why were they all so obsessed with the sliders???? I love them all so much.

"Reach for them and you'll be pulling back a bloody stump." WITH THE RAISED EYEBROWS AND THE LITTLE HEAD TILT RYAN GUZMAN I AM KISSING YOU ON THE MOUTH.

"Wholesome, 80s-themed karaoke."

Buck was a party planner in another life and I stand by that.

"We should totally go as Crockett and Tubbs."

"Absolutely."

They are literally this meme:

The little shoulder rub that Buck gives Tommy <333333333333

The way Buck and Eddie are sitting during the party scene, Buck's arm absolutely SLUNG around his shoulder...yeah okay. Okay. I'm normal about this.

The whole party was two idiot best friends pointing at each other and saying "exactlyyyyyy." Yes, I would die for them.

I just want to say that every single thing about Chimney's journey this episode was heartbreaking and scary and I HATED that I didn't know what was going to happen to him the whole time. Ok thanks for your time.

From that guy stealing his car to every Doug jumpscare, I think they did a really good job freaking the audience (at least...me) the fuck out without actually revealing what had happened. Like..we know he's sick, we know something's wrong, but it was a well-paced episode, even if in my perfect world it would have been like two hours long lol.

And the fact that Maddie is always going to look for him, always going to find him, just like he would do for her...don't look at me I'm emo.

Chim essentially pushing the fact that he is actively dying from encephalitis to the side because being a paramedic and saving lives is so deeply ingrained in him it's something the can't forget? He's so important to me.

Then...Kevin. He's such a huge part of Chim's life, his arc, how he became a firefighter, and it essentially include him in the wedding (even though it was in a very scary way), I think it's a really great take on the idea that our loved ones who can't be there for milestones are there even when we can't see them, especially with his line "you invited me, remember?"

Doug was never there, but Kevin was, Kevin will be there even when Chim can't see him.

"I was trying to get back to you the whole time." THEY ARE EVERYTHING HOW CAN YOU NOT LOVE THEM. ALL THEY'VE BEEN THROUGH, ALL THEY'VE HAD TO DO, AND THEY STILL FOUGHT FOR AND CAME BACK TO EACH OTHER!!!!

Bobby officiating and saying "and the Los Angeles Fire Department" THEY ARE A FAMILY!!!!

And then...perhaps one of thee most important scenes ever aired on television ever:

"Sorry I'm late, that fire was a beast."

"So are you."

And STRAIGHT in for a SERIOUS kiss??????? 911 writers room you can have my life, take it, it's already yours.

Tommy's little huff of surprise and then hum of "yeah okay I'm down for this." PUT THEM IN THE DICTIONARY NEXT TO THE CUTEST COUPLE OF ALL TIME

And last...Buck coming in to the room where his family, both blood and chosen, is, with soot all over his face, and a smile so bright that it had to have lit up the entire west coast, not caring who saw him or who knew exactly what he had just been doing...yeah, that's what this shit is all about.

EDDIE'S beautiful smile when he realizes how happy Buck is they are best friends FIRST and that is all that matters to me!!!

Hen being like "it's about damn time." SO TRUE QUEEN OF COURSE SHE KNEW!!!!!

I haven't really been able to put this into words yet, but the way they are handling Buck's bisexuality and his first relationship with someone of the same gender as him is just...it's almost astounding. It's been handled with such care, from Oliver to Lou to the writers to the NETWORK, everyone is so clearly fully onboard with this and not afraid of it.

And there's no pain here, his coming out is not born out of trauma or being forced or caught or guilty. Tommy made him feel something that he had never been able to put a name to, and Tommy is helping him figure it out. He's letting Buck be overeager without taking advantage, he's letting him move at his own pace (which, of course, is at light speed) but is also confident enough in himself to pump the brakes when he feels like he needs to.

I just can't get enough of that smile, of how fucking happy Buck is. Happy in himself, happy with Tommy, happy to finally have a name for who he is, and not be afraid to share it with the people he loves. His parents' reactions don't matter, because he knows the people that matter to him most won't care who he's with, as long as he loves them and they treat him well.

It's such a huge step for Buck, who has so often fallen prey to what other people might think, it's so refreshing to see him get to explore this without fear of what others will say. Tommy is a steady constant, experienced and knows who he is. He teases Buck and calls him Evan and flirts with him shamelessly, and it flusters him in the best way.

To see a character like Buck, who was, essentially, billed as straight from the beginning of the show, be able to come in to himself and experience real queer joy...wow. For me, it just can't be overstated.

I can't wait to see where Buck's journey goes, and I am just so...grateful to be able to watch it.

[myojinn]

Unveil Me - Sukuna Ryomen

☁︎ Unveil Me ... Multi-chapter fanfic Secret Agent!Sukuna Ryomen (JJK) x Secret Agent!AFAB Reader ☁︎ Tags: enemies to lovers, slow burn, secret agent! au, fluff, action : tw - lots of swearing and mentions of violence

☁︎ Summary: It’s basic Agent 101 not to trust anyone else. You know that and that’s why you always work alone. But what happens when another agent proposes a truce? You agree… but only if there are no strings attached. Can you both keep a promise? ☁︎ a/n: I’ve had this fic idea for a long time already and I finally got to do it. If this series flops then…oh well. Gonna stick to the one shots then T-T : 4k+ words // minors do not interact plz

Chapter 01 ; Words of Trust

Words went in one ear and out the other. 

Do they ever just… shut the fuck up?

You thought this meeting would go along without a hitch. But, oh, you were so wrong. You can’t have nice things in this fucking place. These morons made sure of that. Said morons were your fellow agents—people who should be supporting you. But rather than lifting you up, it’s like their life’s purpose to shit on you, especially in front of your boss. 

Truth be told, you expected it anyway. After all, you’re a woman in a male dominated field. Espionage? C’mon. You walked right into that one. But you were determined nonetheless. You knew you were capable. You were smart, adaptable, skilled—pretty much everything a secret agent should be. But most of all, you had no connections—nothing else to hold you down. You could live your life as a spy without any restrictions. 

You grew up with the familiar feeling of loneliness. The changing of the seasons were marked by a new orphanage after the other. Eventually, you didn’t bother with making friends anymore. What’s the point? They’ll be replaced in a few months anyway. Being cooped up to the side with a book was much better, so that’s what you did. It paid off in the end because when an uptight-looking man came to your orphanage looking for the brightest of the bunch—he chose you.

You figured he was a regular ol’ family man seeking out to help a child in need. Once the papers were all signed and everything was said and done—he brought you home. You had never been to a house as huge as this one. But despite the glamor of the life ahead of you, everything else was normal… at first. The man and his wife welcomed you with open arms. The three of you went out on picnics, ate dinner together, had family game nights in the living room—you know… the normal things normal families do.

But normalcy went right the fuck outta the window when one night he sat you down in the living room with a serious expression. This is it, you thought. They’re gonna get rid of me aren’t they? But I was such a good kid and I—

“Wanna be a spy, kid?”

Huh?

HUUUUUH?

Back then you thought he was messing with you like it was some sort of game. But then you realized everything that wasn’t normal about the family. He would always come home late at night or sometimes he’d have scary looking men over for brunch. His wife would pay no mind to any of it. She’d go about her life like her husband wasn’t doing anything suspicious. Sure, you were young, but that didn’t mean you were stupid.

Reality was that he was the boss of a hotshot spy agency. Now he wants this child that he adopted to be his little project. The idea of becoming an agent was alluring to a child. And, in hindsight, the old geezer definitely used that to his advantage. The way you practically shouted ‘yes’ almost immediately was proof of that.

You say ‘project’ because after you agreed to it—the sense of having a family vanished. He programmed you into thinking that he simply recruited you. Under the law, you were his child. But in your heart, you were just another pawn in his collection. Rather than developing a loving father-child relationship, you had what any boss and employee had. You respected each other, that much is true. And you even admire the man for his abilities. And that was that.

Regardless if you were tricked or not, you’ve come to love your job. The thrill of a good fight would never fail to captivate you. Even though some missions were considerably difficult, you loved your work for all its challenges.

You love it… sooo much. 

You repeated that thought at least 20 times in the last minute. You truly needed some convincing right now ‘cuz some fuckers here are really testing your resolve. 

I love my job and my job includes respecting my colleagues and not pulling their windpipe out with my bare hands… you thought.

“With all due respect, Mr. Nanami, I can’t just accept you sending her out for this important mission just because she’s the former boss’ kid.”

Alright, that’s it. He can consider his windpipe gone. No one brings up your relationship with the old boss and thinks they can get away with it. You grip the armrests of the chair tightly, preparing to stand up and beat this guy up. But Nanami gestured for you to stay put. You huffed out and leaned back, letting him take care of things again.

After a certain tragedy, the agency had to seek new leadership. As his adopted kid, the one he trained since childhood, you should’ve been the one next in line, right? 

LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER SOUND. Wrong. Absolutely wrong.

The agency would lose credibility if a woman ran it apparently. And it would just be worse because then people would think it’s another case of nepotism. Oh well. Not like it mattered that much to you. Nanami did a hell of a good job running the place anyway. And it made you feel amazing that he did a way better job than your old man could ever do. 

As you can tell—you have a strange relationship with the man who used to run this place, the same man you’re supposed to call dad.

Nanami sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Her being assigned this mission has nothing to do with her being related to the former boss. How many times must I reiterate this?” But everytime Nanami tries to quell their (unvalidated) thoughts. Another wave of (awful) discussion happens about how you’ll fuck everything up and yada yada. 

“Just because she did a couple of jobs doesn’t mean she can do this one.” “Exactly! This is extremely important. What will happen to the agency if she fails?” “Just make her do some shitty honeypot mission. That’s all she’s good for.”

This time you were sure that you’d knock the living shit outta this bastard. Even Nanami won’t stop you now. But alas, a booming voice from the back of the room made his presence known. You grumbled and sat back down as Toji spoke up.

“All you shitheads ever do is complan, don’t ya? Do any of you even have the balls to do this mission? I’m sure as hell none of ya have it.”

All of them suddenly fell quiet. Nanami was the boss, but Toji surely had an aura to him. He was the top agent of the firm. Any mission assigned to him was as good as done—he was just that good. Normally, you’d be pissed that someone is outdoing you, but not him. You respected him and he respected you back… somewhat.

He never attended meetings, but for some reason he was here today. He swaggered over to where everyone else was gathered. His big hand gripped the back of the chair you were sitting on and he lowered himself to face you. His scent was strong, but pleasant. He had a lazy smirk on his face and it irked you. “You can do it though, right, princess?” 

You scowled at him. You hated it when he called you ‘princess’. It always felt condescending, but you couldn’t do anything because he decided this is what he’d call you ever since the first time he met you.

“Of course I can,” you spat back. He pulls away and flashes his shit-eating grin to everyone in the room. “Well, ya heard the lady. She says she can do it. Why not let her have it?”

This is why you think he somewhat respected you. Well, respect was a bold term to describe it, but hey, you were thankful he stood up for you. 

The men grumbled. Now that both Nanami and Toji were against them, their balls just magically shriveled up. There was no way they could argue with you now. 

So, case closed. You win. You get the mission and you can rub that fact in their sorry ass faces. You start to love doing your job again.

And that only lasted for a while.

Suddenly you hated this piece of shit life and this piece of shit job when you found yourself seeking shelter from the rain in an old telephone booth miles and miles away from home. You angrily held your burner phone to your ear, trying to make sense of the choppy audio of some random fucker from the intel division.

“Don’t you fucking hang up on me! I don’t care if the signal is shit—you’re gonna fucking talk to me right now!”

No matter how loud you mouthed off this guy’s ear through the phone, you still couldn’t understand a thing he was saying. You just hung up out of frustration and started slamming your fist against the musty wall of the booth. 

FUCK.

Everything just went wrong. So so wrong.

First, they made you fly economy. Not that you minded economy… that is if you were on a trip to the fucking Bahamas. But this isn’t Bahamas and you’re not here to fuck around. You’re here on an important mission so you expect to get to borrow the agency’s jet at least. But noooo, the execs think you’ll do just fine.

Second, the airline decided it was a good day to lose your luggage. You waited for an hour at the carousel, praying that the next boring gray travel bag would be yours. But it never came. You saw red when one of the attendants told you they MIGHT have lost it.

At that point, what you were really losing was your will to live.

Lastly, since everything else blew up in your face, you lost track of time and now communications is shit. You missed the car that was supposed to pick you up and bring you to where you’d be staying for the duration of the mission. You had even managed to get caught up in the heaviest fucking rain you’ve ever experienced in what you swear is the world’s grimiest telephone booth.

Fuck this. Fuck life. 

You slowly slumped against the wall and slid down, not caring if this ancient piece of shit had bacteria that could eat your skin off. Actually, the damn bacteria can go ahead and eat you. Nothing matters anymore. All you wanted to do was wither and let the rain wash you away. Forever gone… forever lost.

...

...

NO. SHUT UP. GET YOUR SHIT TOGETHER.

You slapped yourself with both of your hands, making sure it would leave a mark on your face. This isn’t how you should be acting right now. You’re an agent for crying out loud. Things are supposed to be hard and it’s your job to overcome it. 

You felt a little embarrassed from that mini meltdown, but you now have a newfound resolve to move on and prove those idiots back at the agency wrong. You had to succeed. Even if your life depended on it. 

You soldiered on through the rain and found a taxi. You thought you had a good grasp of the local language, but you were dead wrong when the taxi driver started speaking in what sounded like moon runes. So he dropped you off in God knows where and left you to your own devices. Like literally. You had to use the shitty burner phone they gave you and the shitty maps app that it had on it.

Somehow you managed to arrive at the inn you’d be staying at. You looked like a wet piece of cardboard limping through the entrance and into your room, but at least you were alive. Now that you had a steady signal, you tried contacting the agency again. Not the dumbasses at intel though—you called Nanami instead. You explained to him what happened with your luggage and how you were lagging behind schedule.

“Look… I know it’s been fuck up after another, but I promise I’ll get back on track.”

You hear him sigh on the other end of the call. And you completely understand if he was disappointed. He did fight for you to be on this mission and this is what he got in return. “It’s alright,” he reassured, “I know you’ll bounce back. You always do.”

His voice was gruff, but comforting. You breathed a little easier.

“I’ll have them bring you some stuff by tomorrow. Just let me know if you need anything else. Is the inn okay?”

You told him that it was fine. It was no 5-star experience, but this was better than any musty telephone booth. You two talked for a while about your experiences for today. You earned a chuckle or two from him. And maybe a conversation with Nanami was enough to ignite your spirit again. 

Nanami’s one hell of a drug—considering that his pep talk gave you the strength to venture out of your inn at 2 in the morning to scope out the scene. The scene being the grand mansion of the man you were tasked to spy on. This should've been on day 2 of your itinerary, but you had enough disappointments in this mission already.

Better to take initiative now than later, you thought.

Essentially, all you had to do was keep tabs on this particular man. The man in question hides under the alias, Kenny. Putting it like that makes the task sound easy, but unfortunately for you—Kenny is excellent at covering up his tracks. Not much is known about him even in the underground.

So... what's so important about Kenny?

It's because he has a MAJOR vendetta against your agency. Major as in... he'd probably do just about anything to see it crash and burn. There was a mission in the past which your agency carried out (successfully) which effectively wiped out one of his illegal operations and almost got him in the slammer. Suffice to say he wasn't happy.

Oh... and he may have also killed your former boss... A.K.A your dad.

So, yeeeah. Pretty fucking important mission.

You needed the intel to finally put him away for good. After reading up on all suspected crimes, you wanted nothing more than to make this man face the consequences of his actions.

You may not have loved your father the way you should have, but at the very least, you wanted revenge for him. Up to this day, it still brings a stinging sensation to your heart when you think about how easily they dismissed his murder case just because it was all 'circumstantial evidence'.

REVENGE—was painted in big, bold, red letters on the back of your mind. But at the same time, a part of you knew that there was no way you could kill another man. Sure, you've had your fair share of 'forceful' interrogations, but you've never really gone so far as to take a life of another.

An image of the former boss would sometimes pop in your head. "Don't bite off more than you can chew, kid," he'd remind you—almost constantly. And maybe that applies to your situation now. You know you can't kill him. You know that all you can do by yourself is to collect information—typical espionage things that you were used to.

But, man, it sure would feel great to get the revenge you really want.

You saunter around the estate with your binoculars, hidden behind the rose bushes. You peered through the many windows from afar, trying to find any kind of activity going on. You can’t find the man, but you do see his henchmen all over the place. You made sure to keep mental notes like how many exits there are, how many men are stationed in each place, and how fucking insane this mansion is. You think one infinity pool is enough, but 4? That’s just absurd—definitely compensating for something.

You were so caught up in your recon that you were taken aback when you heard the slightest rustle of leaves behind you. But before you could completely react, a large palm covered your mouth and a strong arm snaked around your body to keep you in place. You thrashed around like a fish out of water, but the assailant’s grip was strong—too fucking strong.

You continued to struggle and gained enough leverage to lift your leg and slam it back right in his family jewels. He stumbled backwards a bit with a groan. You swiftly turned to face the unknown person, ready to retaliate. But upon facing each other, you were both put to a halt.

The assailant in question was a tall man of muscular build. He had a messy undercut, pink spiky tufts with black hair beneath it. He had an intimidating look on his face. Add to that the bold black tattooed lines around his arms. You just knew… he was trouble.

You pulled out your gun and pointed it at his chest.

“Woah woah, slow down, lady,” he says in a low voice. “You a cop or somethin’?”

You were on the good side, of course. You were taking down a detestable man, after all. But it annoyed you to be compared to a cop. You were a fucking secret agent. Emphasis on secret and agent. “A cop?” you asked, eyebrow raised, gun still pointed at him. Even though you wanted so badly to tell him that you’re not just some cop, it was basic agent 101 to not talk about your identity to anyone AT ALL.

“Jeez, you look so offended. I take it you’re not a cop then?” He laughs. The laughter comes deep from within his chest. He seemed oddly calm with a loaded gun pointed at him. He calms down and fixes his gaze on you again. “Well, whatever you are—I won’t let you stop me from killing that man.” Your eyes widen at his declaration. You slowly lowered your gun and as you did, his smile widened. “You’re here for the same reason, aren't you? You’re quite easy to read.”

Now you regret ever lowering your gun on this cocky dipshit. “Who are you?”

He took a few steps closer to you, but you didn’t fall back. You stood your ground and looked up into his red burning eyes. If he thinks he can scare you off, well, he’s dead wrong.

“Name’s Sukuna. And you?” “I don’t care about your name. I’m asking who the hell you are.”

He knew what you were implying, but clearly, he found it funny to toy with you. “Let’s just say we have the same goal, yeah? To get that little jerk living happily down in that mansion?” He says while pointing over at the mansion in the distance. The way your sight followed his finger with a look of contempt practically confirmed his suspicions.

“So I told you my name—what’s yours?”

You gave him an uninterested look. Does he really just give out information this easily? If so, he chose the wrong line of work. “I don’t owe you anything.” He grins and imitates the sound of a fire going out to feign hurt. “After I made myself vulnerable like that? How cruel of you…” He laughed a bit through his nose and backed off a step. “How about I make a proposition?”

“Like hell I’d make a deal with y—”

He placed a stubby finger on your lips to shut you up. “Trust me. You’ll want to hear this,” he says with bravado. You slap his hand away and stare daggers at him. “Seeing as how we might become potential competition for each other and potentially derail each other’s jobs… how about we work together instead?”

“You’re out of your fucking mind if you think I’m gon—”

This time he flicked your forehead. “You don’t shut up, do you?”

First of all, ouch. Second, THE AUDACITY? He could care less about what you had to say. He stared at you for an uncomfortable amount of time. It was like he was studying you, taking in every feature so that he may ingrain into his brain. You instinctively look away—now's not the time for some rando to memorize what you look like. That's just dangerous.

A wide grin spread across his face. "You don't look like someone who kills."

You glared at him. He was right, of course. But he made it seem as if it was something to look down upon. "Who said I killed people anyway?"

"Definitely not that gun your holding," he muses. "You pulled it out so quickly like you wanted to hurt me," he says, getting closer to you again.

"But you never thought to remove the safety hm?"

That got you quiet. True. The gun was mostly an intimidation tactic. You would've resorted to other measures before shooting him dead if needed be. God. You hated how he was so right about you.

He chuckles at your silence. "I guess we're not here for the same reason then?"

You could only turn to look away to the side. Somehow, this felt incredibly embarrassing—like an older bully taunting a small kid.

“So, you’re faced with a dilemma, aren’t you? Am I right or am I right?" He asked, practically shoving his face into your personal space. Though, you didn't budge an inch.

You hated that he was right. Maybe he was good at his job. That or he should've considered fortune telling at those shitty carnivals.

“Let’s say that you are, but what exactly does us ‘working together’ bring to the table?”

“Good question,” he says before flashing a menacing grin. "You see, you have something I don't and I have something that you don't," he explains. Your jaw falls slack at the vague explanation. He notices this and takes it as a sign to continue.

"Since it seems like you're from a fancy agency—I take it that you have the necessary equipment to gather intel on this guy, yeah? Where I'm from... let's just say we're not as blessed." He pauses and sighs, still with a slight smile remaining on his face. "Though, I am blessed with the power to kill this guy. No high-tech bullshit needed." This cocky piece of…

“What makes you think that you could even get anywhere near the guy?”

He laughed again. This time not out of amusement, but definitely out of arrogance. “Baby, I’m just that strong.”

You continued to give him that uninterested look. But you gave it some thought. It really did seem like a win-win situation, except for the fact that you will have to put some insane amount of trust into this guy. Even you don’t trust yourself THAT much.

As you pondered about it, your gaze never left him. You took in every little detail of this man called ‘Sukuna’. He probably realized your doubts as he made his way back into your proximity. His large hand came dangerously close to your face and his fingers gently held your chin. He forced you to look at him and his stupid smirk.

“What do I have to do to earn your trust? Hm? Tell me.” His voice was smooth… tempting. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you weak in the knees. 

You gulped. The solution to your internal conflict has appeared. It was right here, in the form of an aggravating man. All you had to do was say yes. You reasoned that—you didn’t necessarily have to work WITH him. You could use him instead. Set your boundaries, play the game, and reap your earnings. And above all, there was no need to put yourself at more risk.

Doesn’t sound so bad, right?

You gripped the wrist of the hand that held your chin and looked him dead in the eye. “Fine. I’ll work with you under one condition…”

...

“Everything is purely just work—absolutely no strings attached.”

Neither of you had to know things about each other and neither of you had the obligation to save each other's asses if it wasn't a threat to your shared goal. Work will just be work. Strictly.

Then you saw that wicked smile again. The same smile that tempted you, bewitched you.

“Consider it a done deal, baby.”

Likes, reblogs, and feedback would be appreciated <3

Interested in part 2? T_T

[bokutosbiceps]

ten years later

monkey d garp x afab!reader | fluff + smut | ~2.4k words

warnings: SPOILER ALERT FOR MARINEFORD, suggestive themes + smut throughout !! use of daddy/baby girl, blow jobs, vaginal sex, hair pulling, dirty talk, cum trapping, creampie

a/n: everyone stfu okay i KNOW he’s 78 yo but HOT DAMN this grandpa could rUIN MY SHIT. RUIN IT. idgaf. anyways, happy birthday to my favorite sugar daddy 🥳😍🤤

18+ MDNI

you had first met garp when he had dragged luffy from windmill village. you had seen an angry man, pinching the rubber cheek of the town’s notorious future king of the pirates and taking the child off to the mountains. everyone was giggling at the banter of the two as they set on the path to the mountains, but you were just staring at the broad back of the silver haired man.

“who's that?” you had whispered to makino. she just giggled at you.

“that’s garp, he's luffy’s grandfather and a vice admiral in the marines.”

you cocked your eyebrow in disbelief, watching as garp argued with luffy like he was also seven years old. you chuckled.

“that man’s a vice admiral in the marines?”

you were fascinated and a bit smitten with him. the silver hair on his head ending in a pointed widow’s peak on his forehead, shaggy hair of the same color above and below his lips, and his broad shoulders and chest. you were young, an adult but still young, and he clearly wasn't. 

nonetheless, you had waited for him to come back down from the mountain, watching the docks for his return everyday after he ascended the mountain. your patience had been fruitful, and you had run out to meet garp as he was untethering a smaller fishing boat from the docks. he had a bag with him.

“where's luffy?” you had asked breathlessly, your hair wind whipped from the way you ran. garp looked up at you with an amused grin, straightening himself to tower over you.

“dropped him off with some friends, they'll take care of him.” garp looked you up and down. “you know him?”

“of course, everyone in town knows him.” you grin back. “though, right now, i'm more interested in getting to know his grandpa.”

garp’s eyebrows rose in smug surprise. “me?” he stepped off the fishing boat, the wood creaking in protest beneath his weight as he stepped onto the deck to get a closer look at you. “and why’s a pretty young thing like you wanting to get to know an old man like me?”

the way garp had looked at you that day made you confess everything to him. you offered him your house, your bed, your body, whatever he wanted whenever he came back to windmill village. he had just laughed loudly, patting your head with a huge grin on his face.

“wait ten years,” he had told you, “and if you're still interested, I'll show you a good time.”

everyone is silent. the mountain bandit who had raised luffy and ace is unleashing her anger on garp and makino is standing beside you as you both watch in horror. the man you had come to know and love is sitting and taking it, a shameful look on his face.

eventually, makino steps in to split up the fight and you grab garp’s hand and take him to your home, a place he had visited many times over the past ten years. but only for food or drink or conversation, or even an overnight stay on your couch. 

garp is passive as you drag him to your living room and sit him down on the couch. you ruminate on what he had done, why everyone is mad at him, all while you make some tea for the both of you. you cover the bottom of garp’s cup with honey, just like you knew he loves it, and hand the steaming cup to him.

after a while, he speaks. “you're not mad at me?” he asks quietly, rubbing his fingers over the tea cup. 

you purse your lips and think for a moment. “don't get me wrong, i miss ace already but…” you sit next to him on the couch and venture to rest your head on his shoulder. “i also know how much you love him, and how hard it must’ve been on you… to be torn between your family and your duty like that.” you sigh and wrap your fingers around his thick forearm. “but after all these years, i could never stay mad at you.”

garp grunts and sets his tea down onto your coffee table, craning his neck to look at you. you give him a reassuring smile and the corner of his mouth quirks up in response. “ten years, actually.”

“what?”

“it's been ten years.” the roughness of garp’s palm meets the heat of your cheek and he shifts just slightly so that his lips are right in front of yours. “i know it's a weird time to ask this but...do ya still feel the same way you did ten years ago? do ya still want an old man like me?”

all you can do is utter the beginning of your confirmation before garp’s mustache is scratching against your upper lip. his lips are rough and heavy against yours, and he immediately pulls you into his lap. your hands immediately find purchase on garp’s cut jaw as you allow him to dominate your lips.

after getting your first taste of the weathered vice admiral, you couldn’t hold yourself back anymore. you keep your lips pressed to his as your hands reach for his waist and fumble with his belt buckle, successfully undoing it and popping open the button of his pants. 

garp chuckles against your lips and wraps your hair in his fist, pulling your head back and away from him. “why so eager, baby girl?” he slides the heel of his hand against your waist and squeezes the plush flesh there.

“you made me wait ten years…” you pant, your eyes glazed over with lust and desire and need that makes garp’s cock twitch in his underwear. the corner of his mouth curls downward as he thinks for a moment.

it’s been a while since he’d been intimate with anyone, let alone a pretty and eager young thing like you. so before he can talk himself out of it, he grabs you by the back of your neck and brings you to his lips again. he growls softly as he feels your nimble fingers working at the buttons of his shirts and then smooth over his broad chest sprinkled with grey hairs. 

he holds your hips down to his own tightly, grinding up against you to feel that delicious friction he’d wanted to feel with you for so long. you break away from his lips, moving your lips to his ear and nibbling at the skin just below it. you press messy, open mouthed kisses down his neck and chest.

garp lets his grip on your hips loosen as you push his shirt off his shoulders and keep kissing your way down his body, stopping at the hem of his underwear. you pull at the elastic with your teeth and look up at him. “c-can i taste you, daddy?” you ask shyly, a bit of drool leaking out of the corner of your mouth.

garp swallows thickly, reaching down to rub his thumb across your bottom lip then open your mouth. yeah, he’s not gonna be able to hold himself back.

“daddy, eh?” garp lets out a belly laugh, making you pout up at him. you were getting impatient, so you tentatively pulled his underwear down just enough to release him. the heaviness of his cock prevented the tip from slapping against his belly, and droplets of his pre cum sprayed across your face. you lick your lips and kneel on the ground before him, licking one long stripe up from his base to his tip. garp bucks against your lips involuntarily, angling his head down to watch you kiss and lick at his erection. 

he grits his teeth and wraps your hair in his fist again, making you look up at him. “you’re sure about this ain’t’cha?”

“very. have been for the past ten years.” you say hurriedly, looking up at the vice admiral with pleading eyes. garp watches the way you’re clenching your thighs together, and he can’t help but notice the little bit of his precum dripping down your chin.

“well, if ya want it so bad, go ahead and take it.” garp grunts, pushing the back of your head down so his weeping tip pokes the back of your throat. you open your eyes and notice he’s barely halfway in your mouth, so you squeeze your eyes shut once more and inhale deeply as you try to press your nose to his pelvis. garp lets out a deep moan, letting his hand rest on the back of your head but no longer pushing down. “that’s it, baby girl, suck like you mean it…”

garp’s hips snap up to meet your lips as you suck him off, and he can’t help but marvel at your hollowed cheeks and tearful eyes. the little moans and mewls you’re making send vibratory waves of pleasure from his tip to his balls and he pulls your head back, his cock being released from your mouth with a slick pop.

you’re about to whine in protest when garp stands up abruptly, bending down to wrap his arms behind your knees and lifting you up against him. he kicks off his pants and underwear and walks with you to your bedroom, throwing you down onto the bed and climbing onto you immediately. 

his brute strength knows no bounds as he practically rips your clothes off, mumbling a half assed ‘sorry’ followed by a promise to buy you new clothes. you don’t care much, though, since you’re only focused on the way garp’s lips and teeth are worrying at your skin. 

“need you on my cock, baby girl.” he rasps between kisses, stopping every once in a while to lick or teeth at your nipple while his hand squeezes your breast. his other hand reaches down and pushes your underwear down, dipping his thick fingers between your folds and shoving two inside you.

you cry out, clutching on garp’s back as he fucks you on his fingers. “i-i thought you wanted me on your cock?” you manage to ask.

“gotta stretch you out first, baby girl.” garp grins up at you before adding a third, then fourth finger until your thighs are trapping his fingers between them, clenched as your first orgasm rips through you.

garp kisses back up your body before sealing another kiss onto you lips. he kneels and grabs your thighs in his big hands, spreading then securing your legs over each of his shoulders. he stops to grin at you as he rubs his dick between your folds, gathering up your slick and shuddering at the warm and wet feel of your pussy.

“you’re so pretty, baby girl. i can’t wait to be inside ya…” garp chuckles excitedly to himself before pushing into your pussy, bottoming out in one go. you immediately arch your back and whimper, but garp is quick to soothe you with a palm to your cheek and a kiss to your neck. 

he decides it’s best to not ease into it so he draws his hips back just to snap them forward harshly, the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout your room. he leans over you and sets a blinding pace, cock pummeling into your pussy and fingers gripping your hips so tightly there will most definitely be bruises in a few hours.

“f-fuck, baby girl, you’re so tight. you’re doin’ so good for daddy…” garp chokes out, feelings his cock get squeezed every time he pulls back or pushes in. you can only lay back and let him use you, your jaw slack and your eyes half lidded as he takes over you. 

you knew somewhere in the back of your mind that garp was in a heightened emotional state right now, that this might only be something fleeting or purely sexual, but you still held onto the hope that this meant just as much to him as it did to you.

between the way your pussy was milking his cock so beautifully, and the little whispers of his name that fell from your lips, garp is cumming in seconds. he fucks you through his orgasm, twisting his hips just right to rub up against that spongey spot inside of you and bring you to your own climax.

he stays kneeling over you, his hands on either side of your head as he pants, keeping his cock sheathed inside you to ground himself. the way your walls are still fluttering around him over stimulates him, and he decides to pull out. he watches in amazement and amusement as his cum leaks out of your stretched out pussy, and he can’t help but use his fingers to stuff it back inside of you. you moan at the sensation of his thick fingers back inside you, after his cock had just blown you wide open. 

he chuckles at your fucked out expression and presses a sweet kiss to your temple, preparing to head out and find a place to stay tonight to give you your space. maybe head up the mountain, even though he’s sure dadan wouldn’t let him near her place right now.

“stay.” you mumble, using some of the last ounces of your energy to lay your hand on his shoulder and stop him. he considers it for a moment before sighing and laying back down, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to his side. who is he to deny this woman he’d come to love after these ten years? he looks down at your face, noting your closed eyes and the small, blissful upward curl of your lips.

“was it worth the wait?” garp whispers with a chuckle as he brushes his thick fingers over your sweat matted hair.

you hum and nod, snuggling into his side and wrapping one of your legs over his hips. you’re trapping him here if it’s the last thing you do.

“good…i don't think i’ll be able to leave ya alone after this, baby girl.”

“you better never leave me alone, old man.” you mutter, making garp left out another one of this belly laughs you love so much. he squeezes you into his side and sighs.

“yes ma’am.”

taglist: @usoppsstar | @bitchimasnake-sss | idk who else to tag i'm just in my sugar daddy era so :3 hehe

[sskim-milkk]

Alright The Bad Batch is over and I have some THOUGHTS

Warning: spoilers (kinda) for the finale!

Wow, wow, wow! I watched the bad batch finale a few hours ago and have since been lost in thought about how CRAZY that finale was and what this show has come to mean to me over the past 3 or so years.

First of all, the finale was amazing. My friend and I had to pause multiple times to say WHAT THE HELL! I could not have imagined a better ending to it. The epilogue with older Hunter and Omega especially had me feeling emotional. I’m just so happy they got their happy ending.

And while I am still sad we didn’t see Tech alive again, I knew the ending they got was exactly what Tech sacrificed himself for. And someone pointed this out in a different post, but Tech lives on with his brothers and especially with Omega. She learned so much from him throughout the show and we can see that through her actions and brains. They loved each other so much.

I’m interested to see what may happen with the remaining plot points that didn’t get resolved. What happened with Cody? What about Omega and her force sensitivity? But I’m honestly also fine if we don’t see Omega or the batch again. The ending was just so perfect, and sometimes it’s nice to just leave things as is.

Anyway, I’m really going to miss experiencing the pending excitement of a new episode or season. I hope the fandom remains alive. I know we’ll all eventually move on and get invested into other shows and characters, but I hope the batch remains in our heads and hearts for a long time and we interact in the fandom from time to time.

This show came out at such a monumental point in my life. Finishing high school, beginning college, and a bunch of other crazy stuff happening around and amidst that. I have loved nothing more than interacting with other fans via Instagram, tumblr and ao3. This show reignited a love for writing in me, and I’ve loved being able to write stories for them. I hope to continue to do so. And the friends I’ve made through the fandom are absolutely amazing and I’m so grateful to know them all 🩷

This show was handled with such care and love. Was it perfect? No, but pretty damn close. It taught me a lot about learning and discovering who you are, family, friends, and love. I appreciate the creators and everyone who worked on the bad batch so much for how well they handled the show and its characters.

I know I’m probably blabbering on here. And sure, at the end of the day it is “just a show” I guess, but what’s come from that show for me has become such an important part of my life. I know I will always look back fondly on this show, remembering it was a constant in my life during many changes and new adventures.

To The Bad Batch, from the bottom of my heart, thank you ❤️

[nunalastor]

Recently I've been really obsessed with this au I imagined in my head...

Split Personality Alastor au.

So here is a basic explanation for the au and if people like it I'll develop it further and write parts for it.

In this au, it will start with human child Alastor, which would most likely stay for 1-2 parts and then move on to either adult or demon.

There are no clear ships, but so far but I'm leaning into Dustradio (top Angel) with extremely platonic Radiobelle (Not a ship, but they will be really close. Like family.)

I don't know anything about split personalities so this is just my version of it, not the actual thing. I'll also probably colour code for the two.

Anyways, for explanations I'll keep it all brief.

—Alastor's actual name is Alistor, Alastor is the split personality which was formed on the core memory of his mother telling him about smiling.

—Alistor's father loved him a lot, and always treated him well.

—Alastor, however, was hated and abused by his father.

—Alistor's mother and father hated each other, often having arguments whenever meeting which ended in physical fights. However, his mother always made sure to pretend to lose whenever Alistor could hear or watch.

—Alistor is the original, if you haven't seen already and I will be going with his name for most neutral bits.

—His mother always held seriousness and his father was always lighthearted.

—Alastor doesn't really like Alistor, nor does he hate him. But he does have a protective urge.

—Alastor doesn't really have emotions

—Alistor is a crybaby, weak and almost never smiles. However, when he smiles it's brighter than anything.

—Alistor is a pretty crier, like a really really pretty crier.

—Alistor is emotionally intelligent.

—Alistor, in hell, made Alastor promise to not hurt anyone he grew to care about. No deals were made because Alastor always honoured his deals with Alistor.

—Alistor can read people. So can Alastor.

—Alastor has a high pain tolerance.

—Alistor also has a high pain tolerance, but often cries because he hates pain either way.

—Alastor is a bit of a masochist.

—When they went to hell, Alistor was locked away in their mind.

—Their mind is a black place where they stay when the other is taking over the body.

—Alistor can experience everything even when Alastor is taking over the body and vice versa.

—Alistor's old favourite parent was his father, that changed after his father beat Alastor.

—Alistor's father wanted Alistor and not Alastor, so he was distraught when Alastor began to take over more often.

—Alistor was a good person, and often volunteered at charities. That is why many thought Alastor was a good person. They never knew about the split personalities.

—Alistor's classmates often bullied him because they liked how he looked when he was crying, Alistor was basically a sadist creating person since he was so pretty when he cried.

—Alistor's form when in their mind often takes his form as a human child.

—Alastor's form is often that of their deer demon form, but as a child.

—Alistor loved new things and quickly understood technology despite Alastor's best efforts to hide from those sorts of things.

—Angel thinks Alistor is cute.

—The only time Alistor is released in hell is when he is alone with Angel.

—Alistor is quick to warm up to others and is a social butterfly that could never spread their wings.

—Alastor is apathetic.

—Angel has a protective urge with Alistor

—(follow on from before) Angel is protective of Alistor, and won't let Alastor do dangerous things. Of course he only voices these thoughts in private.

—Alistor cares for Alastor.

—Charlie found out about Alistor through her own observations and often comforts him even when Alastor is in control which causes Alastor not to like her.

—Charlie is extremely overprotective of Alistor, as he is kind of a child.

—Alistor is an amazing cook.

—Alastor is a great radio host and loves attention.

—Alistor has stage-fright, but can be an amazing host when he forgets it.

—Alistor was supposed to go to heaven, but was dragged down by Alastor.

—Alistor never blames anyone.

—Alastor has major trust issues and only trusts Alistor.

—Alastor kind of cares for Alistor.

—Alistor cares for his mother but knew how manipulative she was sometimes.

—Alastor's favourite parent is his mother.

—Alistor likes Vox, and is the reason Alastor isn't actively murdering him.

—Alistor hates Valentino.

—Alastor hates almost everyone and everything

—Alistor's father is searching for him, even in hell.

—Vox also knows of the split personalities and often talks to Alistor.

—It's close to impossible not to like Alistor.

—It's close to impossible not to hate Alastor.

—Alistor can stand up for himself, but it's rare so Alastor stands up for him.

—Sometimes Alistor's emotions seep through into Alastor, making Alastor cry despite not feeling anything.

That's all! Can't you tell I favourite Alistor?

👀

[sillycowboys]

Bad batch finale spoilers

My thoughts

HUNTER DIDNT DIE 😭😭😭I CRIED SO MUCH THO

But that motherfucking awful bitch Hemlock dying made my year

OMEGA ALL GROWN UP??? Shut the fuck up. AND TECHS GOGGLES ON HER SHIP? BE QUIET IM DYING.

Hunter with that salt n pepper look just made me want him more #zaddy

“clone force 99 died with Tech” — okay so basically you want me to kill myself? wow

Was lowkey still delusional till the very last second that clone x was Tech but you know what it’s actually better this way bc tech didn’t have to get tortured. I still miss him more than anything in the world

I fully thought wrecker was gonna die bro I was mentally preparing myself

“You’re our kid. Always will be.” Yes she will. But And so what happens if Omega dies fighting in the rebellion or what if old ass Hunter crosshair and wrecker have to go and help her, what then? WHAT THEN, DAVE???!

I still can’t believe tech is dead I’ve been telling myself he’s alive the entire season but now I just have to grieve. I don’t want to. Thank god none of the others died otherwise I’d have to grieve multiple at once bc I’m still not over tech

but like REALLY? TECHS DEAD ARE YOU SURE?????😭😭😭😭 ARE YOU ABSOLUTELY SURE???

Echo had so many mommy moments it made me very happy. Emerie asking him how he knew it was echo who let the zillo beast loose…”It’s what I would’ve done” HE IS HER MOMMY.

I’m ngl I’m surprised they all made it out

When they cut off crosshairs hand I was both devastated and also relieved for him bc he doesn’t have to deal with the shaking anymore, but also I think screamed

I think we rly need to push the concept that mom and dad don’t need to be in love, like yes Hunter is dad and Echo is mom, yes they are brothers, no it does not mean they aren’t mommy and daddy because THEY ARE

Crosshair is the really cool uncle who also lives with them

Wrecker is the fun older brother

Tech is, well, dust

JK. Tech is honestly the annoying younger sibling that you say is annoying but you actually love more than anything oh and also he’s always right

And Omega is just Baby

Hemlock is like, the creepy uncle who married into the family but isn’t allowed to any family events…plus he’s also dust now too

I wish Phee was in the finale lowkey. Missed her

I could talk more but I need to process first.

Anyways bye love you gonna cry some more now

[xoxosimp]

The Heart Wants What it Wants

Pairing: Biker!Steve Rogers x female clubgirl!Reader

Synopsis: There’s a million reasons why you should give up your feelings for Biker!Steve, but your heart can't help itself. 

Warnings: fluff,angst,smut, Possessive!Steve, unprotected sex (stay safe yall) , penetrative sex, happy ending

A/N: I haven't written anything in two years, so forgive the poor characterization and mediocre writing. Not beta’d, all mistakes are my own. Inspired by “ The heart wants what it wants” by Selena Gomez.

~~~~~~~~

“Steve  is not going to let you leave,” Wanda scoffed as she wipes the counter. 

“ Girl, your pussy is magic. Do you really think he’s gonna let you go?” Lucia stated matter of factly.

You rolled your eyes and crossed your legs. “ Club girls come and go. Once I leave, five more girls are going to jump to take my place.”

Being a club girl to one of the biggest motorcycle clubs had its perks. You had a roof over your head , with zero bills to pay. You had a family that watched your back and the freedom to focus on university. In return, you would consensually sleep with the members of the Howling Commandos Motorcycle Club . The only rules were you were to only sleep with members of the MC and pick up some of the chores around the clubhouse.

You were a sweetbutt. Sweet mama. Croweater. Whatever nickname, to each their own. You were club property. 

Being the President’s,Steve Roger’s  favorite girl had its perks, as well. No one got away with disrespecting you,  which is unusual on its own considering you were no one’s old lady. But for the past year, you’ve exclusively slept with Steve . And cuddled with him. And go riding with him ( which is a privilege on its own, all bikers treat their motorcycles like a temple), and tell him every fear, hope, and dream you’ve ever had. 

If you wanted to leave, you would need to ask the president. You’ve been a club girl for almost two years now, and every single time they’ve asked to leave, Steve granted their request. 

“I can't stay with the club forever,” you say weakly, leaning your elbow on the counter Wanda just wiped. “ I plan on going to grad school out of state.”

“ You mean you don't want to stay with Steve, forever,” Lucia corrected beside you. “ I thought you liked being his favorite,” she asked sarcastically.

You were planning on taking a gap year since you were near the end of your undergrad career. You wanted to travel. Take a vacation. Finally relax , since it's been endless work since your freshman year and it will just be more work once you start grad school. 

You could travel all you want as a club girl. But no matter how far you could travel, your heart will always pull you to him.

But does he yearn for you?

“ I don't think my heart could take much more, guys.” 

“Oh my gosh, you love him,” Wanda stated.

What’s not to love? Steve was a kind, compassionate, and down to earth man. He would put his life down for anyone in the club without a second thought. Steve was sexy as sin, with huge arms and even more sculpted legs to match. He was a golden boy. He was amazing.

And so not yours.

“ There’s only so much my heart can take , Wan,” you took a deep breath to steady your voice. “ I knew what I was signing up for when I became a club girl but I didn't think it would give me this much heartache.”

“You’re an incurable romantic, Y/N. You feel too much,” Lucia stated simply. “ You don't even know if Steve feels the same way.”

Your heart plummeted. Wanda glared at Lucia. “ Don’t look at me like that,” Lucia defended herself, “ I’m capable of getting under someone without catching feelings.”

“ Anyways,” Wanda said curtly, “Luce, don't you have a paper or two to write?” 

She rolled her eyes but nonetheless hopped off the stool and slung her purse over her shoulder. “ I hate that you’re right. I will see you bitches later.” You and Wanda say your goodbyes. 

“ And my break is over, I have budget reports to look at,” Wanda sighed.

“Fun.”

“ Like a hole in the head,” Wanda remarked.

You collected your belongings but Wanda stopped you. “ How about asking him out on a date?”

“Steve?” 

“No, Natasha,” Wanda rolled her eyes, referencing Clint’s old lady.

“ Redheads are not my type.”

You and Wanda share a laugh. “ Ask him,” she urged, putting her hand on your shoulder “ The worst thing he can do is say no.”

Then you’ll have to mend your heart back together if he does. 

Gosh, you can't remember a time where you were so anxious about a guy. You weren't shy about sex, but you sure held back when it came to your feelings.

But a girl has got to try.

~~~~~~~~

You were pacing outside of his door. Gosh, you felt like a middle schooler going to ask out her crush. 

It was a simple “Do you want to get dinner together?”  Or “ Let’s have a picnic!” or-

“ Everything okay, pretty?” a deep voice snapped you out of your rehearsal. 

He was shirtless with droplets of water still very much on his abs. You could see his dick print through his gray sweatpants. Gosh, how were you supposed to ask him out when all you wanted to do was jump him?

“ I could hear you pacing through the door.” he grabbed your waist to bring you closer to him. He tickles your neck with his facial hair, your laughter is music to his ears.

“ I came to ask you something,” you said in between giggles. 

“Ask away, pretty,” he said ,starting to kiss your neck. 

This was your ideal situation. You didn't have to look in his eyes. But with every kiss to your neck your panties got wetter. 

Do it , you coward. 

You laced your fingers in his damp hair and forced him to look at you. “ Will you go out with me?”

His eyebrows raised in surprise. His mouth broke out in a smile. With how nervous you were , you couldn't tell if that was a happy smile or ‘i’m laughing at you smile’.

“What made you ask me, pretty?”

There were a billion reasons running through your head. A billion explanations. A billion confessions threatening to surface like word vomit. But there were a billion insecurities. A billion potential heartbreaks. 

“ I just thought it would be fun,” you said, massaging his scalp with your finger nails. 

You know he doesn't believe you, the detective twinkle in his eye says so. But he doesn't question you.

“ A date with you sounds perfect, pretty one. But I thought I was supposed to ask you out?” he says pinching your bum.

“ Well you were taking too long,” you tease. 

“ Well my apologies, I hate that I kept my best girl waiting. Where are we going?”

“ I was thinking about Ben's?” you suggested. Ben’s was the club’s favorite place to eat. It was frequent after church, or just on a random Saturday because they felt like it.

“ Oh no, our first date needs to be special,” he argued. “ And we go to Ben’s all the time.”

“ But their burgers are so good.”

He chuckles, “But you deserved wine and dined.”

You stand on your tippy toes and press a gentle kiss on his lips.”  Then we'll just have to go to Casa Rustica.” 

“Then I guess we will.” He cups your face and brings you towards his lips.A rush of warmth floods through you, melting away your lingering doubts.Time seemed to stand still when you kissed him. And with every nibble and bite , it made your core clench over nothing. Whenever you groaned into him, you sent vibrations through him, making his dick twitch.

You finally mustered the strength to pull away from his lips. “ How does tomorrow night sound? Five ? ”

“ Sounds perfect, pretty.”

~~~~~~~~

When he’s five minutes late , it’s because the red lights take forever to turn green. So you think.

When Steve is ten minutes late, it’s because he realized he had two different shoes on. So you think. 

When thirty minutes pass, your heart sinks with the realization you’ve been stood up. It isn't until you take your jewelry that your phone chimes with a text message.

I’m sorry that I’ve kept you waiting this long, but I can't make it tonight.

You couldn't tell if that was a “something came up” apology or a “ I forgot” excuse. 

It was like he threw a rock at your glass-paned heart. What did you expect from someone who got the milk for free and isn't interested in buying the cow? 

Your dynamic with him was a unique one of its own. Not a lot of club girls get turned into old lady’s . Not that you were expecting that, but you wanted to try with Steve. Have a relationship with him. Be his proper girlfriend.

Lucia always said you would bring yourself more heartache than you deserve. Guess she was right. 

~~~~~~~~

“You were right.” You slumped down next to Lucia at a table outside of your university’s student union. 

She put down her pencil and raised an eyebrow. “ I’m right about a lot of things, you need to be more specific.”

“ I took a risk and asked him out,  but he stood me up.”

Lucia’s face fell a little, “ Babe, I didn't want to be right,” she rubbed your back.

“ Why did I let myself think he was gonna sweep me off my feet and run off into the sunset together” you ask out loud. 

“ I don't think so ma’am,” she wagged her finger like a mother scolding her child, “ He’s the asshole who decided to ditch you. Did he say why?” 

You shook your head, “ I didn't ask”. She gave you a bitch are you kidding me look. “ No one can question the president, Luce. He’s given me protection and a roof over my head and-” 

“ I don't care if he was the president of the United States,” she said sharply, “You deserve an explanation.”  She opened her palm expectantly.

“No,no,no,” you started. Her eyes pierced your soul, demanding that you give up your phone. You tried to resist but ended up pulling your phone from your back pocket and handing it to her. 

She unlocked your phone and began typing. The goosebumps danced on your skin, hoping that she would say anything disrespectful to him. Lucia shows you the message she has yet to send. 

Hey, is everything alright? You ditched me with no notice last night

Granted, she could have typed out a message in a much more disrespectful tone with a plethora of profanities. 

You take the phone and press send. With every passing minute your palms grew sweaty, until your phone chimed and you opened his messages.

Club Business 

Those two words were every motorcycle club president’s favorite words. Two words that no one could question. Two words that answered but did not fulfill any question.

“ He hit me with the 'club business’ , " you told Lucia bitterly.  Which doesn't make sense considering that Bucky, his Vice President, and Sam, his secretary were both at the clubhouse last night. 

“Okay , screw him,” Lucia exclaimed with no care for the heads that turned. “You just need to get under someone new to get over him.”

“But I’m not-”

“Allowed to sleep with anyone outside the club. I know,” Lucia droned, repeating your usual explanation. “ I never mentioned anyone outside the club. You say it yourself, you’re a club girl, not his girl.”

The prospect of sleeping with someone else churned your stomach. You have slept with other members of the club. But he fucked the memory of anyone else touching you out of your system. 

“I don't think I would ever get with a biker. But Sam? He could get it every day of-”

“Okay, Luce, I get it,” you laugh a little. 

What do you get for falling in love with someone who never gave you a second thought unless you weren't in bed with him? 

~~~~~~~~

You were his. Every birthmark and scar. Every curve and crevice. Every perfection and imperfection. Every hope and dream you’ve ever had.

 You were his.

So then why was Thor’s hand on your thigh?

Steve knows canceling on your date thirty minutes after he was supposed to pick you up was less than gentlemanly. But he had a good reason for his absence, one he has yet to disclose. 

You haven't spoken to him in two days . Granted it’s only been two days, but it’s been two nights without you cuddled to his side in his bed..Two mornings where your hair was splayed all over the silk pillow cases he bought just for you. 

And instead of sitting on Steve’s lap like you always do at club parties, you found whatever Thor fucking Odinson was whispering in your ear was so fucking funny. 

It wasnt until Thor stood up and you fucking took his hand that he had seen enough. Steve released his clenched fist and stood up. His racing heart matched every quick thud his heavy boots made on the hardwood floor.

Your gaze flickered to him for a millisecond. Because you know you’re his,too.

~~~~~~~~

In hindsight, it was a good idea. 

You wore the shortest skirt in your closet and a shirt that made your boobs look fantastic. All club girls were expected to attend Friday night parties (which is short for every biker’s excuse to get drunk and get laid after the work week) with the half hearted intention to get under someone to get over Steve. 

You took a seat next to Thor, who was a part of the club but was one of Steve’s friends, and flirted with him like it was a 9 to 5 job. You sat next to him with the intention of letting him take you to bed, but your true intentions evaporated when you fell into genuine conversation with him. 

A genuine conversation with his hand resting on your thigh and him getting so close you can smell his cologne. Yup, super friendly. 

When you took his hand and offered to go to the kitchen for a drink, you saw him in the corner of your eye. Steve stood tall and proud, and he walked to you.

In hindsight, it was a good idea.

It was still a good idea; since Steve had your thighs pressed to chest, his huge dick stretched out your cunt, fucking you into his mattress. You mewled when he pressed an inch closer so your clit brushed against his pelvis. 

“That’s a good fucking girl, taking my cock,” Steve choked out. Your cunt clenched around him at his praise. 

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his dick kissed your cervix in the best way possible. It was a gift that never hurt, whether that was because you liked the way it felt or he knew your body so well he never hurt you. You dragged your nails down his chest so hard there was definitely going to be red marks. 

“Tell me you’re mine,” he grunted out, knowing his high was soon to crash. “ This pussy belongs to me.”

“ Steve, sososo- Fuck!” He thought it was cute whenever you got too cock drunk. Your tits bounces with every thrust inside your cunt. Your left eye was twitching, so he knew you were about to come. Your clit was swollen, just how he liked it.

It was all fucking perfect. You were fucking perfect. 

Steve pinched your nipple which elicited a whine from you. “ Tell me this pussy belongs to me or you can't come.”

You attempted to de-scramble your overstimulated brain with the proper response. “ I- fuck Stevie-”

Frustrated with your disobedience, Steve starts rubbing fast circles in your clit, making your cunt clench involuntarily. “ My pussy belongs to you!,” you moaned “ I need to cum please.”

“ Then cum for me, pretty.”

You released around him in a crescendo, with him following suit. You milked Steve’s cock for all its worth as he pumped your cunt full of his cum with three snaps of his hips. You and Steve laid in silence, allowing yourselves to just feel each other for a few more moments.   

He gently pulled out and got to work with cleaning you up. The way he wipes your messy cunt with a warm towel, how he kissed your thighs and praised you for taking him so good. 

It was all too sweet. But it hardened your resolve nonetheless. Wherever that resolve was.

Steve sat on his bed, downing a glass of his favorite bourbon. As you walked towards him from the bathroom, he appreciated the view of you in one of his Harley Davidson t-shirts.  You don't know if you look into his gorgeous blue eyes and tell your truth.

“Can I ? -”, you and Steve said simultaneously. You ushered for him to continue. He stood up from the bed and took your hand.“ You first, pretty.”

Tell him, you coward, you scolded yourself. “ What am I doing?” you thought out loud.

Steve furrowed his eyebrow in confusion. “ I have feelings for you,” you whispered. “ But it was wishful thinking we could be something more. But it- it wouldn't be real.”

“What do you mean it wouldn't be real?”

“ I’m a club whore, You’re the president,” you said plainly. “We wouldn't have a relationship, we don't have a relationship now! It’s ownership. I belong to the club-”

“ You’re mine,” Steve cut you off sharply.

“It’s the same thing Steve,” you replied solemnly. “ It’s one sided. You- You own me, you control me, I belong to you-”

“ You own me!”  he interrupted. “ You control me, I belong to you. If you want my heart, I'll rip it out of my chest and give it to you. You own every part of me.” Steve brings your hand to his heart so you can feel the rhythmic thump of his heartbeat. “ All I can think about is you. All I see is you.”

“You don't mean that,” your eyes were bright with unshed tears.

“Have I ever lied to you, pretty?”

“ Then what were you doing the night we were supposed to go out? Got cold feet?”

Steve drops your hand and goes to his closet. He shuffles around and grabs something black. Steve holds it out for you to see: A black leather jacket in your size, with the back embroidered with the Howling Commandos insignia with the words Property of Rogers around the symbol.

“The tailor needed a second opinion on the size. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect,” he explained. 

“Is it for me?,” you asked.

“All yours, pretty. Try it on for me,” he commanded softly.

It was a snug fit. A perfect fit. “ What does this mean for us, Steve?”

He cups your cheeks, “ It means that you’re mine and I’m yours. You’re my old lady and I’m your man.”

“Club girl to old lady is kind of a big jump though,” you snided.

“ One day at a time, pretty. A day at a time.”

You closed the gap between you and Steve with a soft kiss. His lips molded perfectly against yours. Maybe it was all a dream and the cruel reality would wake you up. But it was no dream. Steve was real. He tasted like he was yours.

“ You’re mine,” Steve stated. 

“ I’m yours. Are you mine?”

“ With all my heart and song that belongs to you, pretty.”

A/N: I made a Scandal reference, iykyk

[murfeelee]

IWTV INSP - MerMay Pt2: Siren Nature

"Something was very wrong with Louis. No one else would have noticed but the three royal Pointe Du Lac children had been tuned to each other and Grace could read the tightness in Louis’s walk, the note of falseness in his smile and eyes, and the subtle press of his lips that meant that he was in pain. Louis’s new friend, Mr Lioncourt, had disappeared a few days ago and Louis had been like a ghost ever since. Paul had noticed too, knocking on her door last night, and his theory was that Mr Lioncourt had stolen away Louis’s soul. Grace didn’t believe that, but something was deeply wrong and Louis had rebuffed any gentle attempts to find out what.....  "But when Louis had been at family breakfast the other week, days before Mr Lioncourt’s disappearance, Louis had been scratching and Grace had caught his arm. A bronze scale had come off his skin and Louis hadn’t noticed. Grace had palmed the scale discreetly, so that no one else would see...."

-- Excerpts from Part of Your World, by @weather-mood

MY THOUGHTS & CC CREDITS

MY THOUGHTS

A [FREE SPACE] entry for @vamptember's MerMay VC event!

Just a heads up for those familiar with PoYW: for my gameplay, I've moved ALL of the siren scenes from the fic to Louis' official transformation at the end of the story, into Tidelines; so some of my next posts actually take place out of order from the fic itself.

What I really like about WeatherMood's PoYW fic is how clearly you can see the parallels between siren!Lestat's "deal" with Louis, and vampire!Lestat's "wedding vows" pitch. In PoYW, Les is the Sea Witch who makes a deal with the naive & lovestruck Little Mermaid--it's largely based on Hans Christian Anderson, but with a slight Disney twist. Louis knows Lestat is evil (he massacred Louis' whole ship crew), but Lou also has garbage taste in men. 🤦 But Lestat's deal throws Lou for a loop; it sounds too good to be true, cuz it is. Hans' Sea Witch is more forthcoming about their deal highly likely ending in utter doom; while Ursula deliberately withholds information (her plans to sabotage Ariel & keep her (& King Triton) as a polyp/slave).

Likewise, vampire!Lestat knew good & dang well that Lou had no idea what vampirism really was or entailed; going in blind as a bat into a damned eternity off of nothing but a few "tricks" he'd seen Lestat do (and ofc he compartmentalized seeing Les eat the priests). He turned Lou & babytrapped him so Lou would/could never leave him; just like siren!Lestat traps Louis in a bad deal he knows is anything but temporary/amphibious enough to let Lou to survive on land.

Lestat loves Louis, undoubtedly, but he's also a bonafide monster, ("Is my very nature that of the Devil?"). It's effed up, but Louis loves him, so what can you do. U_U At least Les isn't like Hans' Prince, who treated The Mermaid like trash & loved someone else entirely, only for The Mermaid to willingly die for him anyway, like GIRL. 🤦🤦🤦🤦🤦 Take that knife & go crazy! 🔪

CC CREDITS

- Stained glass windows by @deniisu-sims & Abuk0

- Toe claws & eel tails in beta by me

- (If anyone's wondering, I put Loustat in scale-patterned swimming briefs cuz in the fic they don't actually wear clothes. But my blog's PG-17 goshdarnit! 😅)

[nefertittythegreat]

Ok, but the reason Ferdinand loves Myne so much is because she was the first person to love him unconditionally. Now I'm not saying Ferdinand wasn't loved, clearly Sylvester loves his brother dearly, but because of how Yurgenschmidt works no one was in a position to love Ferdinand just as is. Something else in their lives had to take precedence over him, but for Myne, Ferdinand was a priority. She put him first, and no one in his life has. For the first time, someone cared about him openly without fear of repercussions, and needless to say, that fact resonated with him.

[turtleblogatlast]

[ cw: death mention / family death mention / ]

Mhmm I sure love thinking of the reality where we did get more time to really know Karai and her dynamics with the bros. Losing her hit hard in the finale, but it would’ve hit much, much harder had we known Karai longer and really saw her relationships develop with everyone.

I especially would have been interested in her dynamic with Leo, as past iterations often have the two of them clash in ideals and the like while still sharing many characteristics. Two sides of the same coin, and all that. Her specifically being the bros’ Gram-Gram also adds a whole new dynamic as well.

Imagine how interesting it would be, to have Karai start off on Leo’s side for once, showing wholly just how alike the two are at their cores and bonding as family without the worry of betrayal or animosity that other iterations suffer through, only to have Karai die anyway. Their parting hug and the desperate look of horror Leo wears later on would have hit that much harder, I feel.