#i wanna bite him both affectionately and violently

[cognitosclowns]

h..... he’s... hes so..

[princelylove]

i am slowly getting more and more annoyed with mr zeppeli himself i ate my fingers as i read your response to my ask AJAJHSUSH. thank you so much your highness i am burning my whole house rn.

actually, which yanderes do you think would be the most ANNOYING. like, not violent or anything but just plain annoying. the kind of people that make you wanna tear your hair out or commit a slow and painful murder.

(inspired heavily by narancia because i have a feeling he would be the most annoying little shit to deal with)

-🌸 anon

What an adorable thing you are. Don’t bite too hard, it’ll hinder your ability to compliment me. 

Oh, God. Most annoying to me, personally? Not in any order in particular, I feel as if this one would change depending on my mood:

Bruno hovers too much, and he tends to both infantilize and put a lot of responsibility on his darling. He expects his darling to parent Narancia but won’t let them handle a knife by themself. I’m doing a character study on him right now, so that’s all I’ll say, but just know that he is God’s punishment for whatever you did in a past life to deserve him.

Narancia is annoying- he’s a young guy who never got taught how to deep clean, spends his free time on his pull up bar, expects you to cook for him since he’s literally never been tasked with it, whines when you try to get up and go to the bathroom in the middle of your six hours minimum long cuddling session, doesn’t know how to properly take care of an entire human being so just throws junk food at you and hopes you don’t starve, the list goes on. He loves you, he really does, he just doesn’t know what he’s doing. For someone as prissy as myself, I would die the first day. He doesn’t understand why I put those rollers in my hair- he just watched me straighten it, doesn’t that cancel out??? That’s stupid, oh, and another thing, what’s the point of owning five different versions of the same color of nail polish? It’s all red! Just have one, that isn’t crazy expensive! On top of Narancia being the worst roommate ever- he’s very irritable, and doesn’t really have a problem pulling a knife on you to get what he wants. He’s not as quick to snap as people think, but that doesn’t mean he won’t. Show signs of liking something more than him and he’ll maul it. 

It’s hard to set Cioccolata and Secco away from each other, they’re basically inseparable, but Cioccolata is capable of using logic, and Secco is not. If you’re on the ground in pain, obviously you’re going to have a hard time answering the little puppy’s questions. Secco doesn’t understand why you won’t play with him- he’s shoving his toy right in front of you, are you blind?? Play! With! Him! Throw it, play tug of war, SOMETHING, COME ON. There’s an interesting dynamic depending on who exactly you’re intended for- Cioccolata, Secco, or both. Let’s just talk about Secco alone, since Cioccolata isn’t annoying, he’s just a bit too affectionate sometimes. Secco’s forgetful, rude, jumps to conclusions, and you don’t even know what he looks like since he’s always wearing that bitch suit-esque thing. He nudges you to throw his toy- he probably thinks of you as human rather than another dog, and doesn’t understand why you aren’t behaving like Cioccolata does. If you were Cioccolata’s darling alone, or a shared darling, he’d probably think of you as another dog. But he was here first, so he’s got dibs on the good dog bed, AND cioccolata’s lap. As if you’d want that. Secco begs and begs and begs for you to give him as much attention as you possibly can- and somehow, you’re never doing it right. It’s like talking to a child who has surpassed the ‘Why?’ stage and has moved on to greater conquests- annoying you so badly that you ask Cioccolata if it’s fine to have a sip of his ‘not for dogs’ drink. Or two. Or three. Or the entire bottle. 

Rohan doesn’t ever shut the fuck up. He quite literally always has something to say, despite wanting to “observe.” He read an article this morning, let’s go visit the place it mentioned even though it’s a three hour train ride and supposed to rain for the rest of the week. He always wants to go explore- even when he promised that you could both stay home today and do something you want to do. It doesn’t make sense to Rohan- why wouldn’t you want to go see what the world has to offer? Probably because this is the fourth temple he’s wanted to visit this week and you don’t feel like going up two hundred stairs. (If his darling cannot walk, he makes sure it’s accessible beforehand. You’re not getting out of coming with him.) Rohan’s big on healthy living, and he feels a sense of superiority for eating right, and working out very consistently. He wants his darling to be perfectly well as well- how can he push you to your limits if you’re not at your best? You’d probably sleep better if he stopped talking for three hours past his initial ‘goodnight.’ 

Hazamada… is… he’s certainly a character! The literal only reason why he isn’t forcing himself upon his darling is because he’s too much of a coward- and that’s not my interpretation, that’s canon. His hobbies include bullying kittens and small animals, not showering, collecting manga, stalking idols, and tennis! Isn’t that nice, he does sports, he’s only a basement dweller half of the time. It isn’t even somewhat attractive when he tries to get it on with his darling, he’s like a dog humping your leg. He’s the type to call you a stupid bitch because you politely suggested he should wear deodorant before he hits on you. He’s canonically an exhibitionist- imagine sitting in class and looking over to check the clock and he’s just staring back at you while adjusting his pants. I’d switch schools. 

[nemiisnemisis]

lil leona ramble, dont pay attention to me~

OK SO-

i literally both love and hate this man sm

like for one, yes i love how much of an asshole he is bc he makes up for it in terms of "im totally NOT a tsundere big brother/uncle trope" and i just go soft

but on the other hand, HOLY FUCKING SHIT I WOULD ACTIVELY AVOID HIM IRL BC HE IS IN ALL DEFINITIONS: A SUPER SENIOR.

would actively talk shit ab him too bc its funny, but then i would get my ass handed to me by him (i wouldnt mind-)

anyways

ughghfj lemme just go feral for him pls, im begging.

he has actually taken over my life and idk if thats a good or bad thing (its a good thing bc cuddling my leona nesoberi is actually the sole reason i can fall asleep)

^ the leona sleepy powers gets shared wif meeee

yea.

i also feel so much cuteness aggression towards him

like i wanna bite him (affectionately and only temporary bite marks bc we dont condone hurting ppl we love)

i wanna shred him to pieces like a dog violently shaking the chew toy (figuratively bc once again, actually hurting ppl you love and care for is bad.) (yes this is throwing shade at THAT shithead)

auehhrhr ok im going to have to type the last part quick bc i will get too flustered (nemi is weak to affection so-)

i wanna just hold his hands and like give little kisses to his face bc he deserves all the love and affirmation in the world that he matters to me, and to everyone even though he doesnt belive in any of it.

i also want to just hug him and tell him that yes his brother is shit but also please do communicate bc miscommunication causes 90% of all problems and even if things are still very rocky with his family, it's still worth a shot bc ik he secretly cares for them.

erruhththht ok gushy part over.

why is he so ethereal, pretty and also masculine at the same time?? LIKE HELLO?? SHARE WITH ME. (nemi also has gender envy)

I wanna kick him in the nuts to see his reaction :3

[cynettic]

hi, i hope i'm not bothering you, but i can order a Scaramouche × Kitsune reader, the two met before the vision hunt (and before he was a fatui if you want) the reader was always in the same place, sometimes having a conversation , the good old routine, but with the hunting of visions the reader disappeared not wanting to give up his own vision, and years later a reunion, SFW or NSFW is by your will, thank you, I really admire your work

Summary - Scaramouche met you as a child, growing up with the constant assurance that you would be right there, sitting at your spot where he could meet you with every visit. He isn't happy when you suddenly disappear.

Pairing - Kitsune!Reader x Yan!Scaramouche

Warning - Slight Yandere warnings?

Penpal - Ahhh- hope this is what you were looking for. I couldn't find a spot to put much nsfw unless I considered writing more for the series ( I could, just put a request in if thats what you’re looking for ). But I hope you liked it!! You're not bothering me at all and I'm glad you like my work!

A/N - Alright- so considering that with the 2.1 update with Scaramouche coming in, I just wanna state beforehand that I wrote this prior so I dont know if we learn about his backstory or anything!!

Link for Part 2

Stay With Me

Scaramouche was used to the routine he’d found himself going along with every visit to Inazuma. As a child he’d pass through the wild fields that stretched just beside his hometown, adventurous and curious with all the tenacity of a child.

And of course you, a kitsune that sat perched on the ground awaiting the Kitsune Saiguu, was bound to notice him. Unlike the other earth kitsune statues, you hadnt turned to stone during your wait. Instead, staying in the same place did you interact with travellers and the locals, which included Scaramouche.

“Fox person!” The little boy chanted, pulling at the hems of your clothing. Bright blue eyes bore into your own, and you slowly shifted your head to pay attention to the boy who was on the verge of bouncing on you.

Humming in reply to his excitement, the little boy paused, both of his small hands still tightly clasping the fabric of your clothes. Soft matted hair brushed past his face in a messy manner, calling out the boy for his boundless running and rebellious urge to keep his hair messy despite his parents wishes.

“Play with me!”

Staring at the boy only a moment longer, you simply chuckled at his antics. “I’m afraid I cannot move from the spot in which I dwell~ Perhaps I’ll be able to entertain you if you bring cards?”

But the young boy had made up his mind at the statement to which you couldn't move. A pitiful frown enfluged his face as he cast you the nastiest glare a five year old could muster. “Boring!” He shouted into the distance of the fields, dramatically turning on his heels and bouncing up into a sprint away. You watched his small figure fade away into the background, absentmindedly sighing and returning to your mindless thoughts.

As a child, Scaramouche would pass by you fairly often. Frequent when he asked you to play with him, and storming away with the same expression when you denied him. Nothing out of the ordinary, you’d lived for an exceptional amount of time, and even though grumpy children were not your specialty, you’d grown accustomed to their behaviour.

Growing up, Scaramouche got no better. You soon noticed his violent tendencies before they became an issue, the way the children shied away from him when playing Temari. Hiding in front of a tough exterior, he scared them away and laughed, approaching you later with tearful sob.

“Will you play with me?” He asked again, trying to hide the fact that he still wept when the other children pushed him away.

But your answer stayed the same, helping him wipe his tears and coaxing him into your arms. Not the first time you’d made contact with a human, but the first time you held them in such an affectionate manner.

It was clear Scaramouche was beginning to see you as some sort of pillar of reassurance when he began running away from home to simply ask to be held. You always welcomed him with open arms, urging him to head back to his household and sort things out. There was no harm in simply providing love and comfort for a child who received none was there?

“Now now, hurry back home little one. Your parents must be growing awfully worried if you’re out by this time at night.”

“My parents dont care about me!”

Darkness slowly pooled into the fields, an obscure shade covering the two of you from the tree you were under. Biting back form your normal emotionless statements, you pondered for something to soothe and convince the boy. Misunderstandings and hardships were normal from what youd seen with children, and you could only offer your hand on his shoulder, a promise. “Go back, I promise to stay here if anything further happens. But you shold give them another chance dont you think?”

And so he’d sprint back to his hometown, and you wouldnt hear from him again till he ran up right up to you a few days later. Begging you to play a game with him. The normal you supposed, and with a grin that seemed to stretch wider with every day, you told him the same thing you told him every single time.

“You cant move?!” Scaramouche nearly yelled one time, tiny fists curling at his side. “Thats… thats stupid!”

“It is isnt it?” You only smiled in response.

Unsatisfied with your response, he clawed your arm, pulling you with all his might. Strong, you realized with surprise that he was much stronger than most children his age. Easy enough to tug away from, but strong enough to take you off guard.

Snapping your hand back to your side, you narrowed your eyes. You weren't angry… no, you hadnt felt strong feelings like that after the disappearance of the Kitsune Saiguu. “Do not attempt to move me,” was your curt response, said in the most stern voice you’d used with the boy.

He’d looked at you only a few seconds longer before bursting into tears, turning away and running. You didn't feel regretful for defending yourself, only turning once more with a tired sigh to stare at the distance.

But just as you stayed ageless, Scaramouche grew older. Still, crossing each others pass was inevitable when you sat in the plains, just alongside the path that lead to his hometown.

With a permanent scowl that seemed to stain his face, he still seemed to have mature a tad bit. Maybe hadnt improved in the social department, because he now scared children and adults and alike, but more mature…

“Hm? Whats this?”

Once again, sitting criss cross under the large tree that provided the perfect shade on sunny days, you stared at the boy expectantly. His hands hesitated at your question, but he resumed shuffling. “Cards,” he simply said in response.

A small featherlike feeling flitted across your chest, making you feel lighter and… almost ticklish. A small smile crossed your face, and you recognized the emotion to be one of adoration. For him to have remembered words you’d spoken years ago, it gave you a warmth you’d sorely missed. A warmth akin to watching him and the other children grow up.

“Ew, dont smile like that, its creepy.”

Swatting at his head, he frowned further when you laughed. “You’re more mature,” you pointed out, lazily leaning back. “You need to work on your people skills though, as someone who hasnt moved in years, thats pitiful that I know more than you.”

“Shut it!”

But as he grew up, you hardly got to see much of him. He’d reached your height and then fully disappeared, leaving no goodbye. And much as you hated to admit it, you hardly noticed, not when days passed in a flurry. You were used to being by yourself, entertaining the kids and greeting the people that passed by.

Sometimes, there’d be the reminder of the warmth he’d given you. But it was quickly overshadowed by your duty to remain seated in wait for the Kitsune Saiguu. A dedication kept in its earnest, but beginning to dwindle.

Inazuma was beginning to change.

“The vision decree…” you repeated, staring at the traveller who’d mentioned it to you. “Care to elaborate?”

The new archon threatenening to take away visions from every inhabitant of Inazuma. It was preposterous, so much that you didnt move. Your vision meant the world to you, but so did the Kitsune Saiguu. You werent sure just how you weighed the two till you saw civilians passing by you, ones you recognized, ones that didnt recognize themselves.

It was snowing, cold snowflakes melting into your skin while your hair soaked in the water. Unflinching, you hummed to a little tune, awaiting someone to pass you so that you could attempt to strike a conversation of somesort. The unnatural weather distanced all who entered the field though, and you simply waited. For the Kitsune Saiguu, for someone, or for some form of entertainment, you didnt know. You Slowly closing your eyes, you decided not to care.

“Im gone for five years and you’re still sitting here like a dumbass.”

Eyes snapping open, you find yourself face to face with a complete stranger. Dark purple hair with dark blue eyes, piercing and dangerous in a way you dont recognize at all. Fancy clothing that you cant identify or put a name on.

The boy took a step towards you, crouching down to stare at you directly. His eyes scanned over your figure briefly, and he brushed the snow out of your hair and ears with one flick of his hand. In the next, he was offering a coat to you. “Take it, you’re probably getting cold.”

You leaned forward, ignoring the coat he offered you. Gently, you raised your hand to brush the hair from his eyes, centred on the way his pupils widened. Offering a small moment of surprise and one glimpse into the small childlike blue eyed wonder he was. “Kiddo,” you breathed, pulling your hand back and scanning him once again. “You’ve grown.”

“And you havent.”

Snickering at his comment, you took the coat. You didnt need it, but he looked like he didnt either. He was already wearing clothing that kept him warm, and with careful observation and an untouched coat, you settled on the fact that he’d brought it here. Brought the coat here for you.

“Still havent improved with those social skills of yours have you?”

He scoffed, letting himself fall back till he was sitting fully. “I dont want to hear it from someone who refuses to move an inch for years. Lazy ass.”

You open your mouth to retort, but instead laugh at his comment, shaking your head. “Gained some humour on your journeys have you? Bad words too it seems. Anyways...” He had sat down, which meant that he meant fully well to sit, chat, and catch up. That familiar warmth filled your chest, a contrast between the cold snow. “Welcome back.”

It wasnt often that Scaramouche visited Inazuma, but when he did, he was sure to visit you. The two of you would sit down for hours, talking about the most trivial topics. He never mentioned what he did in his time away, and you never asked.

But things began to go downhill when news of the vision decree finally took action.

“Its no joke anymore! The Raiden Shogun has taken custody of almost a hundred visions!”

In that moment you made your decision, weighing your vision over the Kitsune Saiguu. Awfully selfish you knew, but you’d spent decades sitting there in wait.

And for the first time you sat up from your position on the ground, clumsily stumbling upright but gaining balance. It takes a few steps until you’re back to normal, and you begin your journey in order to escape the Raiden Shogun’s vision hunt decree.

_-_-_-_

You didnt expect to see him again.

Long grass tickled at the skin of your legs, making you adjust your footing to no avail. Sun slowly descending past the mountains to mark the start of an evening and the soon approaching night. A normal day of exploring the mountains and islands of Inazuma, observing the constant changing situation, and running away from the vision decree like a favourite past-time.

With the exception of a firm grip on your wrist.

Dark purple like hair, same hate brimmed eyes and lavish clothing. You recognized Scaramouche the moment he had appeared, looking just as surprised as you were. That being before he snatched your wrist and snarled, “You.”

You wouldve considered it pure luck to find him, an unexpected reunion with someone you actually remembered. But no, his tone had some predatorial edge to it that had you cringing. Hard. “Yes, its me.” You answered back with a frown, trying to loosen his hold. “Nice to see you too, is something the matter?”

He only seemed confused at your words, pulling you closer.

“Something the matter?” He asked as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Well, to start, you’re not sitting at your damn spot.”

Taken aback for a moment, you wondered if that sole fact was what drove the boy to such lengths. Surely he couldn't be so troubled over the fact that you moved… “The vision hunt decree, I'm sure I mentioned that I was sticking around in wait for the Kitsune Saiguu. I decided to wander around and avoid the conflict until I could settle back.”

“You could’ve waited for me,” he stated almost instantly. “I could have protected you.”

You felt your brows furrow quizzically. “Wait for you? Why in the world would I-”

“Why wouldn't I?” He pushed you closer till he could fully grab both wrists, taking a step closer as if his words would resonate clearer in your head. “You took care of me as a child, it would only be fair for me to repay the favour.” But he only seemed to be looking for excuses. “And besides, you can't just up and leave… I didn't know.”

Before you could interject with the obvious answer that he didn't need to know, you stopped. You’d lived decades, nearly centuries if you’d kept count, and you had learned to read people's expressions even when you’d stayed away from them for so long. He didn't know. It hit you in the most unpleasant way that he wasn't aware that it was none of his concern. To him, you were just another thing he needed to keep track of, something he had control over. His face basically screamed, ‘I depended on you to stay in that place.’

Deep breath in and out. You’d lived long, longer than him, you could deal with a child throwing a tantrum.

“Don't worry,” you gestured to the vision ta your side. “I'm strong enough to protect myself, I appreciate your concern, but I’ll be back when the vision decree ends.”

Unconvinced, he pulled you closer, just until your faces were mere inches away from each other. “No,” he said in a stern voice. “I’d rather you by my side, where I can protect you. I hate to question what you’re capable of, but you’ve been sitting down for as long as I’ve known you for.”

“I’ve lived decades more than you,” a simple reply, hopefully enough to get by him. You snatched your hands back with ease, ears flinching slightly when a cold breeze swept past you. But you stayed firm, not wanting to look vulnerable against the imposing air he had around him.

Still unconvinced. “You’re coming with me.”

“No I’m not.”

You’d known him as a kid, watched him grow up along with all the other small ones in his hometown. And maybe you admit you cared a smudge bit about the warmth he gave you when settling down to play cards, but he was different. He had changed in the worst way and you weren't about to deal with it.

“So you’re not coming with me voluntarily?” He asked softly, taking a small step to which you responded by stepping back. He had his hands up, as if telling you he wouldn't hurt you. But the way he said voluntarily sent shivers up your spine.

“No.” Hand on your vision, you held your own hand up threateningly.

He took his time when tilting his head, taking a deep breath in, and then appearing in front of you in just a short stride. Too quick to react, you hesitated before you could attack him. You didn't want to hurt him, he was still a child in your eyes, and you paid the consequences for that. He slid his hand just along your neck, and a jolt of electricity seemed to thrum inside you just as you collapsed in his arms.

Scaramouche was quick to catch you, hoisting you up into his arms dearly. “I do hope you’ll come to understand,” he said softly, cradling your unconscious form in his arms. Making sure not to crush your tail when carrying your legs, he looked past the mountains, sigh resting on his lips.

Because Scaramouche liked to have control of the things he held dear. Like keeping all your valuables neat and tidy in a closet, he was happy knowing you were safe and stable in that spot you always sat on.

And he couldn't have you moving could he?

[glassheartjukebox]

...and there was only one bed

captains -> setters -> aces

feat. daichi, oikawa, kuroo, futakuchi, ushijima, bokuto

“i wanna sleep next to you

but that’s all i wanna do right now” - talk me down

a/n: this is one of my favorite tropes. this time i decided to organize the part a lil different (by position played rather than team)

daichi

when y’all realize there’s only one bed left, he’s immediately offering to sleep on the floor

while y’all are arguing about sleeping arrangements, he’s already making a very uncomfortable makeshift bed on the floor for himself

the only way you’re going to convince him to just share the damn bed with you is if you refuse to move from his makeshift cot until he gets in the actual bed

even then, he’s laying on the edge, trying to give you as much space as possible

“you know i won’t bite, right? you can take of more space than that daichi.”

as all of us know, many hotel rooms are an ungodly level of cold

daichi is like a human heater

without realizing, you gravitate towards him in your sleep

the next morning you wake up to him snoring in your ear

your legs are tangled together and your head is in the crook of his neck

daichi wakes up and immediately starts apologizing (completely ignoring the fact that you were on his side of the bed)

give him a hug, assure him it’s okay, tell him it’s the best sleep you’ve had in weeks

oikawa

brat. big ole brat.

complains about having to share the bed

says you’re taking too long in the shower

you roll your eyes and make your bed on the floor, not wanting to hear it

that is, until you hear him huffing and sighing

you look up, exasperated

“what’s wrong now oikawa?”

he leans over the bed and quietly says “please come up here”

you narrow your eyes at him

he pouts and does grabby hands at you

and that’s how you ended up on the other side of the bed from him, quickly falling asleep

however, you woke up in the middle of the night to oikawa clinging to your back like a koala

you didn’t have the heart to move him

but you also wanted to get your revenge

do you grabbed your phone and quickly snapped a picture of him clinging to your back like it was his life line

when you woke up in the morning, he was still clinging to you, but he’d transitioned into a more comfortable spooning position

you felt secure in his arms, not that you’d ever admit it

kuroo

is the one to suggest sharing the bed

he doesn’t want to sleep on the floor, he doesn’t want you to sleep on the floor, so what’s wrong with sharing a bed?

he’s internally panicking but he won’t show it

when it’s time for y’all to sleep, you find out kuroo is a pillow hog

the bed came with four pillows, and he’s taken three of them

“kuroo, i can’t sleep like this. i need one of the pillows, this isn’t supporting my head at all”

being the little shit he is, kuroo’s default defense is teasing

“that’s tragic, you could just use my chest as your pillow”

he was not expecting you to stubbornly take him up on his offer

furthermore, you weren’t expecting him to just... let it happen

you thought he would cave and give you a pillow, but instead you could yourself dozing off to the sound of his heartbeat

you both woke up in a similar position, with you clinging to his chest and his arm wrapped around you

maybe you two should sleep like this more often

ushijima

convincing him to share the bed isn’t too difficult

yes, he wants to be polite and make sure you’re comfortable

but he doesn’t want either of you on the floor

so he elects to make a wall of pillows between the two of you

does this work? no.

consequently, you wake in the middle of the night to a hand gripped your hip

groggily, you realize ushijima has reached across the pillow barrier to seek out some type of warmth in his sleep

is was like you were making it difficult; you were cuddling the wall of plush separating the two of you

you’re shifting roused ushijima but didn’t wake him

instead, he’s sleep addled brain simply tugged you closer, causing you to shift over the pillow wall

his grip on you was like a vice and you knew you would be unable to get out

so, you opted to fall asleep listening to his heart beat

in the morning, he politely didn’t comment on your migration to his side of the bed even though he had no idea he was the cause

he couldn’t help his blush when he attempted to leave the bed only to be met with you holding him tighter and muttering “no. stay. warm.”

futakuchi

cocky bitch

acts completely relaxed and IS COMPLETELY RELAXED

he’s well aware of his feelings for you and he’s convinced he can work this situation to his benefit

while you’re in the shower, he turns the air down

unbeknownst to him, he’s managed to put the air conditioner into overdrive and jam it, not allowing him to make it warmer

when you exit the bathroom, you’re greeted by biting cold and a shivering futakuchi

after 10 minutes of attempting to fix it, you both give up

when futakuchi suggests cuddling to stay warm, you don’t have it in you to chastise him for flirting with you

after all, you’re shaking violently and some body warmth sounds awfully good right now

that’s how you find your head on futakuchi’s chest and your legs tangled together

your hands are fastened around his waist and his arm is around your waist

you never thought futakuchi would be so comfortable to sleep with, but you quickly found yourself dozing off

the next morning, you two were tangled impossibly closer and his hands were tracing gentle circles on your waist

“what are you doing asshole?”

“i’m trying to keep you warm,” he bit back in a haughty tone

good cuddler or not, you were going to kill him

bokuto

when y’all realize there’s only one bed, he plops into it and beckons you over like it’s the most casual thing in the world

if you say you’re going to sleep on the floor, bokuto pouts and gets very upset, afraid you’re going to be uncomfortable

after a bit of arguing, you both agree to shower and share the bed

when you go to tuck in for the night, bokuto pulls your back flush against him as if you do this every night

you freeze at his nonchalance

“are you okay with cuddling? i’m cold,” he whines

as embarrassing as it is, you’re quite comfortable and give into his wishes without any resistance

you’re awoken in the morning by bokuto nuzzling his nose into your neck and mumbling “is it already morning?” in his deep morning voice

you startle, forgetting the position you fell asleep in and that you fell asleep next to your very affectionate crush

bokuto is completely unfazed, only pulling you closer and saying, “five more minutes”

who are you to deny that?

©glassheartjukebox all written content belongs to this user. do not repost, modify, or copy content

[blindchannelimagines]

Pretty Lips

It all started because of a compliment.

You’ve often found yourself staring at your friend's lips; they looked so soft, red and plump and you wondered if he took care of them.

"Joonas, tell me your secrets!" you two were intimate enough to grab him by his cheeks, squishing them together so that his lips could look plumper. You glared at him playfully while he looked up at you in amusement. He was sitting on a stool, so you took advantage of the height difference to mess with him. His blonde, fluffy locks covered his blue eyes and he reminded you of something.

"You look like a poodle," you dared to say it out loud and squeaked when he slightly turned his head to bite your palm.

"How dare you!" he smirked and wrapped his arms around your waist to bury his face in between your breasts. Those fluffy curls, along with his beard, tickled your sensitive skin as he nuzzled affectionately, making you laugh.

"Hey, stop it! I'm the one who's supposed to torture you, you have to tell me your secrets!" your fingers gripped his curls, forcing him to pull away.

"You wanna know how I keep my lips moisturized?" Joonas purred with a cocky smirk. You eyed him suspiciously and your lips formed a thin line. 'He is going to say something inappropriate' you thought and yet, you nodded anyways. Curiosity killed the cat after all.

"Well, uh... how do I say this?" Joonas pretended to think about it, staring at the ceiling with a thoughtful expression. You sighed, as you knew damn well that he was doing it on purpose.

"Got my lips well moisturized because I eat pussy".

That answer was unexpected, and you burst out laughing. You knew he was going to say something obscene; he was your dearest friend after all. He was so dear to you that you purred nonchalantly:

"How come you've never moisturized your lips with my pussy, huh? I thought we were friends," leaving him dumbfounded. A hint of truth was hidden behind your words, and Joonas was aware of this.

"Oh," he hummed in response, tightening his grip around your body. That lustful gaze of his sent shivers down your spine.

"You want an actual demonstration of how I do it? Is this what you're trying to say, yes?" His tone of voice was so deep, so sensual, that your head started to spin. It was happening way too fast, and you were so fucking grateful for it.

"Yes," that was your only answer, before biting your lip eagerly. He smirked in return, standing up from the stool almost abruptly. A strangled squeak escaped from your mouth as you were grabbed by your hips and forced to sit on the kitchen counter. He pressed his plump lips onto yours and you melted in his tight embrace.

You have already kissed before; there's always been some sort of sexual tension between you two. There was a certain complicity in your looks. You didn’t smile at the others the same way you smiled at each other. You’ve always found an excuse to get into physical contact. Even your friends noticed that, in fact all of them wondered how come you still hadn’t gotten together yet.

He tilted his head to the side and deepened the kiss. His large hands caressed the soft flesh of your thighs, lifting your skirt. Joonas' lips never failed to drive you crazy; his skillful tongue and sloppy kisses were the reason why you were always achingly wet down there.

He was aware of this, in fact he didn't hesitate to slide his hand in between your legs, pressing two fingers against your clit through your wet panties. That action made you arch your back and whimper in need. The melodic sounds you were making spurred him on and, without wasting any more time, he forcefully parted your legs and bent down.

Staring at him with wide eyes, you bit your lip and slightly lifted your butt off the counter to help him get rid of your soaking panties. His gaze was intense as he eyed your wet cunt. You tried to wrap your legs around his head, eager to have his tongue deep inside of you.

Sloppy, open mouthed kisses against your inner thighs distracted you from your fervent desires. Your eyes rolled back for a second, not expecting that tingly sensation that made you shiver uncontrollably. Your hand found his blonde curls and immediately tangled your fingers through those messy locks. He bit a sensitive spot, and you pulled his hair, making you both groan in ecstasy.

"Stop teasing me Joonas, please..." your mewled desperately, thrusting your hips forward in a pathetic attempt to convince him.

Joonas was a merciful God and blessed you with His Benevolence.

You moaned aloud and your legs trembled a little as he finally buried his face in between your thighs. He groaned while savoring your essence, his mouth salivating as you coated his taste buds. Your hips kept squirming uncontrollably, making his tongue slip and slide against you. His thumbs dug into the flesh of your thighs as he pinned your lower half to the counter to keep you still.

The squelch below seemed to turn Joonas on more as he began to smooch and suck your pussy eagerly, not minding the mess he was making of his face. Your slick filthily coated his nose, lips, and chin, but that was exactly what he wanted as he rubbed his nose against your clit.

Joonas hummed as he admired you from his point of view. Running his wet tongue through your folds, he sucked on your clit hard. Gazing up at you with fervent eyes, he maintained eye contact through the cracked view between your legs as his tongue peeked from his opened mouth across your clit. Back and forth, his tongue glided against your clit, causing your whole body to writhe. His movements were a bit sloppy as he made a mess of your pussy.

You grabbed the back of his head to pull him even closer and he shook his head wildly to mess with your clit. His action forced a scream out of your mouth, and you fell back. You began to thrust your hips upward shamelessly as you kept him in place.

"I'm gonna... gonna cum..." were the only words you could muster in that euphoric state.

Joonas never stopped his movements, his pace remained the same so you could cum faster.

And you did. Your breath hitched in your throat, and you rolled your eyes back, as your legs began to spasm violently against his head.

Your dear friend hummed deeply, a sticky liquid spilled out of your puffy lips, and he licked a fat stripe using his wet muscle. You ground your pussy against his mouth one more time and whimpered.

It took you a while to pull yourself together, as you laid down on the counter with your heart throbbing uncontrollably. Joonas stood up straight and the first thing you noticed was that giant smirk covered in your own essence.

"And that's how I moisturize my lips, kitten".

[spencersawkward]

switchblade faith//spencer reid - chapter 8

summary: one month after joining the BAU, Clea is still settling in. between solving murders and getting acclimated to DC, the only comfortable thing in her life is her friendship with Dr. Spencer Reid.

pairing: Fem!OC/Spencer

word count: 3.9k

content warnings: discussion of a dead body (for a case), discussion of sensory overload (idk if that's a warning but just in case).

A/N: sorry this took so long! i've had a lot of writer's block with this series, but i'm feeling a lot more motivated with it, now. anyway enjoy!

masterlist

my feet slam into the pavement at a rate that makes me wonder if my heart can take it. I can feel the air in my lungs, stinging, and the way it never seems like enough. I can't stop. my arms are pumping and my legs burn.

I'm sure I look like a mess right now, exhausted and sweaty as I make my way up the biggest hill by my apartment. I haven't been running in a while, and this incline is even more daunting than it was before.

I use the momentum I've built from before now and force myself up. every breath rips through me violently until I'm sure that if I stop running, I'll collapse. but I keep pushing, knowing it'll be worth it.

I hated running until college. just absolutely despised the thought of getting outside and forcing myself to move quickly. the older I get, though, the more refreshing it's gotten. it helped me escape from midterms, from the pressure that constantly seemed to mount with every passing day. sometimes it feels like all of it keeps piling on, and it's never going to stop.

of course, that's not really the way to look at life. I've had things to balance out the work, friends to call and ways to let out the hammering violence that always seem to fill the spaces between my ribs. running clears my head when nothing else does.

once I get to the top, I bend over and rest my palms on my knees so that I can relax. I can hear my heart beating in my ears and can feel my pulse thudding against my throat. it's good, though. I needed to do this again, to get exercise.

I resist the urge to lay down flat on the pavement. DC isn't really a good place to do that; everyone around me is on a morning stroll with their partner or they're out for a jog themselves. I pass several enthusiastic-looking dogs out for a walk. the sheer number of people around me should make me feel normal.

it doesn't.

I straighten and stretch out my muscles, wincing at the way my calves feel if I move them funny. I don’t want to get called in for a case today, but that's naive. there will always be another case because there will always be people we need to stop. maybe I'm just not jaded enough to not care. I like to think that's a good thing, though.

...

when I head into the office a couple hours later, there's a to-go cup of coffee resting on my desk. I smile to myself, set my bag down and shrug off my coat, then peek over the divider to see Spencer with a case file open and an identical to-go cup a couple inches away.

"is this your doing?" I refer to the coffee. he nods and smiles at me, seemingly not in the mood to talk.

"thanks, Reid."

sitting down to do some work, I sneak a peek at him. Spencer is acting different from last weekend. more shy. I'm not really sure the reason, unless he just felt particularly outgoing at the party and is now back to his default self.

we get a case before the hour is up, and then my mind is occupied by the details.

jet rides, though now a familiar routine, are probably my favorite part of the job. I don't feel totally unproductive, but I still have time to unwind and talk to people on our way. Emily and I have gotten much closer within the past few weeks and sometimes she tells me stories about her old job that keep me on the edge of my seat.

there's something so mysterious about her that I just appreciate; she's like a cool older cousin to me. and she's great at making fun of Morgan, which is something that I've found enjoyable as well. sometimes he needs to be knocked down a peg-- she's the woman to do it.

"how many?" I trace my finger down the smooth skin of Derek's arm, where he's lifted his sleeve just enough to show the inked lion. it's a big tattoo, and I'm somewhat surprised he has one at all. he just doesn't really seem the type.

"five right now." he flexes his bicep flirtatiously, and I immediately remove my hand with a repulsed expression, rolling my eyes at the chuckle he lets out.

"don't feed his ego like that." Emily warns from across the table. she's flipping through one of the plant magazines that we've stashed in the snack cupboards (much to Hotch's disapproval). I turn to see Morgan's reaction.

"you a little jealous, Prentiss?" he teases. her only response is a glance that dares him to push further. they both know that Emily has absolutely no interest in him, which I suppose adds to their friendship. Morgan leans down by my ear, but he makes no effort to quiet his voice. "you should ask about her tattoos."

"you have tattoos?" my eyes widen at this, voice a little louder than usual. Hotch glances over at us from his seat a ways away, but doesn't say anything. Reid is passed out on the couch, strangely tired for the middle of the day; Rossi's writing something in his miniature journal.

"that's not anyone's business." she says more to Morgan than to me.

"I wanna see!" I set my glass of ice water down on the table and straighten up. Emily pretends to be exhausted by the persistence, but she closes her magazine momentarily.

"look, I can't show them all here." she raises a suggestive eyebrow.

"then how does Derek know?" I smirk. Emily makes a face, but Morgan is the one who replies.

"this one gets a little loose-lipped when she drinks too much." he teases. I snort and glance at Emily. I've seen her tipsy before, but never drunk. at most, she gets affectionate with all of us and calls us her best friends in the whole world. which, honestly, isn't an unwelcome sentiment.

"I do not." she argues.

"yeah, you do." Reid mumbles from the couch cushion where he's been resting his head. I jump at the sudden noise, and we all turn to him.

"look who's up." Emily smiles. Reid stretches his legs out, limbs so long that his feet hang off the end of the couch. he's wearing mismatched socks again today, one with bananas and one covered in sushi rolls. I smile to myself.

"I'm not," he argues. "someone had to correct you."

Morgan and I let out an amused laugh. my eyes dart between Spencer and the two other agents. "I feel like I'm the only one here who hasn't seen Prentiss drunk."

"yes, you have." she frowns.

"no. not, like, plastered."

"don't let Garcia hear you say that." Morgan laughs. I snort.

"why?"

"any excuse to party, and she'll take it." he shakes his head affectionately.

"she'd just call it bonding." Prentiss adds in. I have a soft spot in my heart for Pen. for all of the darkness we see here, she makes it a little bit brighter with her quips and sparkly pens and neon glasses. she's a blessing.

"what's so bad about that?" I defend for her sake.

"nothing's wrong with it, per se," Emily shrugs. "it just means we aren't as professional as we should be."

"I'd argue that our job actually means we get to let loose more when we have the time." I shrug. Morgan offers his fist to pound, and I oblige with a satisfied smile.

"you two are children, you know that?" Emily gestures between Derek and me. I shrug, about to return to my crossword when she speaks again. "how many tattoos do you have, Clea?"

I blink for a second, deciding whether or not to lie. it would be kind of cool to sound badass, but I don't know if I even have the mental capability to fib to a bunch of profilers. "none."

"what?" Morgan looks at me with confusion.

"yeah, none. why is that such a big surprise?" I laugh at their reactions. Prentiss is alarmed, too.

"I don't know-- you seem like the kind of person to get a heart tattooed on your thigh or something." Morgan shrugs. I make a face, silent.

"that's offensive."

Prentiss snorts and finishes her drink. I peek over and see Reid with his eyes closed but a slightly amused smile on his face. by the couch, I can see through the window. we're slipping through gray clouds that are saturated with rain, and the weather change causes the jet to shake a bit.

my fingertips wrap around the arm of the seat and Emily eyes me warily.

"you okay?"

"don't like flying." I answer, nostrils flaring slightly. usually with these trips, I've been able to hide my apprehension for flying by holding onto my knee below the table or something, but the sudden jerks are putting me off.

it's stupid-- plane anxiety is ridiculously common, and I don't think it's necessarily unwarranted. the problem is that to a bunch of people trained in behavioral analysis, it shows a blatant fear of not having control.

which is true, but it's not like I need that plastered all over my face every time we board a flight.

"would you get a tattoo if you could?" Emily changes the subject, thankfully, and I bite down on my bottom lip.

"I think so, yeah." it's said without much thought; all that's on my mind right now is wondering what our ETA is. Morgan shifts in his seat to smirk.

"really."

"sure."

he nods appreciatively before turning to look back out the window. droplets of moisture are collecting there, but they only distort the image of Portland stretched out below. the water is steel gray and rippled with wind.

I've never been here. for some reason, I find myself wondering what it smells like. that mingling of city scent and ocean, if they meet in the middle to form their own distinct identity. if it will settle on my tongue and in my clothes.

it's funny to me that when I go to different places and return, I don't notice how different it all smells until I breathe it in through the fabric of my shirts, and from there it all comes rushing back. Spencer mentioned during a case once that scent creates the most powerful memory reaction out of all our senses-- and I believe it.

DC smells like humidity and rain-slicked streets, Montana like dust. even the jet has a particular one that I don't associate with anything right now, but I know I will in the future. like I'm standing in the formation of a memory.

half-baked.

...

we've got the hoods of our raincoats up as we make our way into the office of our latest victim. Morgan holds the door and I wander in, staring up at the enormous glass walls of the place. a stray droplet falls from the hood of my jacket and onto my nose, rolling down the bridge and causing me to sniffle.

her boss is surprisingly dismissive of us when we get to his office, reluctantly getting off a phone call and giving me something of a dead-fish handshake. as we take a seat at his desk, I can smell the overbearing stench of his expensive cologne.

he's got exactly the kind of look that I wouldn't touch with a ten-foot pole: taut, judgmental face with a stiff mustache and slicked-back black hair that honestly is probably dyed. his eyes linger on me for a bit longer than I appreciate, but I clear my throat and try to brush off the discomfort.

Winona's body was found in a ditch off the side of a highway, dumped like trash. based on the ME report, she was alive when he threw her in, but died shortly after from her wounds. the whole thing is gruesome and as her employer notes her tendency to daydream and occasional tardiness, I want to reach across the table to smack him.

Morgan is able to keep his cool better than I can, nodding. I know it's important to know her behaviors in order to build our profile, but I still don't like the way this guy is talking about her.

"she wasn't really the strongest employee we've got, but she was nice enough around the office." he shrugs. I notice the gold wedding band that glints on his ring finger, the way he leans back in his swivel chair. he's got evaluative eyes.

by the time we're done, I'm practically flying out the door of his office and hurrying to the elevator. we got what we needed to know from him, if not through a somewhat convoluted method.

"nice guy." I note sarcastically after punching the down button. Morgan tucks his hands into his jeans pockets and looks at our warped reflections in the elevator doors.

"we talk to a lot of people like that. you get used to it."

"didn't seem too concerned about her at all."

"I don't think guys like that are concerned about much more than themselves."

"you should have mentioned a tax evasion investigation happening around here," I smirk. "that would probably put the fear of God into him."

Morgan chuckles and looks over at me. it would be unprofessional to fist bump with so many people around, although the smile we share is definitely a great equivalent.

as we pack into the metal box with a bunch of employees, they look at us curiously. the enormous FBI label on the back of our jackets probably doesn't help, but I pretend to look like I know what I'm doing as we step out into the lobby.

in all reality, faking it until I make it is the only thing I know how to do.

...

the late night cravings come as a surprise as I stand over a map of Portland. my eyes are starting to cross from staring at all the minuscule details for so long, and my fingers are twitching from a mixture of hunger and overloaded caffeine.

we were supposed to go to bed about two hours ago, but I know for a fact that I'm not the only one sitting in my motel room with open files and a determined expression. I do happen to be the only person rooming alone, however, and the silence has been helpful.

Reid's been working on a geographic profile, but there's something missing. I'm not sure what it is. all I know is that if I don't figure it out soon, it's going to eat away at me. based on his activity patterns, there are only a few more days before this guy abducts another woman.

except now I'm just thinking about how much time we don't have, and that sort of sends me into a spiral, too. I'm prepared to always be running against a clock for this job, but that doesn't mean I have to like it. I'm going to lose it if I stare at any more tiny lines indicating roads or side streets or whatever else demands attention.

I need to get out of my head.

before taking time to really consider anything else, I grab my phone and look up pizza places nearby. what I need right now is some sustenance and tv-- or at least something to distract me enough to recharge.

I change into my pjs and wash my face while I wait for the delivery person to arrive, try to ease the day out of my bones. there used to be a whole process for me after work every day, where I'd shut off my brain. The Real Housewives of Atlanta provided ample help for this, along with fuzzy socks and glasses of red wine. I can make do with this.

once the pizza guy comes and I pay for my food, I don't even make way to my room; instead, I go to the person I know who needs this more than I do.

"Clea?" Spencer rubs his eyes as he swings open the door, glasses held in the other hand.

"hi." I smile brightly.

"what are you doing here?" his soft tone and the dim light from a motel lamp in the corner tells me that Morgan is asleep right now in the other bed.

in response to his question, I hold up the box of pizza with a grin. his eyes widen.

"I can't eat all this alone." definitely a lie, but saying that he needs to take a break probably wouldn't sway him enough.

for a second, Spencer seems to debate this in his head. when he runs a shaky hand through his hair, I roll my eyes. "it's pizza, dude. not a wedding proposal. you can go back to the case in twenty minutes."

he nods this time and looks up at me as I turn and start toward my room. closing the door gently behind him, I don't miss the way he increases his pace a little to catch up with me.

"did you get mushrooms?" he asks. I throw him a disgusted look before realizing what he's talking about and breaking into a grin.

"you remembered!" I reference my hatred of the fungus. Spencer smiles with pride, turns his gaze to the carpeted floors. I unlock the door and let us in.

"of course I remember," he snorts. "it's hard to forget."

I giggle at the way he immediately uses the sink to wash his hands, and I join him after setting the box on the bed.

"favorite soap scent?" I ask absently. suds cover my fingers as he rinses the water from his. normally, this isn't a question I'd ask, but Spencer seems like he would have a response.

"you know, I really enjoy anything fresh-smelling," he thinks about it. "like waterfall smell."

"I like those, too."

"what's your favorite?"

"there's this brand that I love that specializes in antibacterial soaps, and they have a lavender one that literally makes me ascend." I laugh. Spencer is drying his hands with a folded towel and his face lights up.

"Ravi's Organics?" he suggests. my heart leaps with recognition.

"yes! oh my god, have you used their cracked cinnamon one?"

"I have the hand sanitizer in my bag." Reid's eyes are so pretty. they sparkle with a hazel color, almost chocolatey in the cheap motel light.

"they have a hand sanitizer for it?" my jaw drops. he nods and I shake my head slowly. we walk over to the bed to eat the pizza. he seems hesitant, though, and pauses.

it takes me a second to remember that Spencer has different boundaries and is just kind of awkward in general. even though there's no obvious tension between us, I don't want to make him uncomfortable, so I plop down on the floor.

"you like Ravi's Organics." he states it back to himself more than to me, and as I pop open the box to reveal a beautiful pepperoni pizza, I nod vigorously.

"yeah, it's actually kind of a funny story," we start to dig in immediately. I lift an enormous slice to my lips and bite into the perfection. it's so good. "when I was little, my parents used to call me Rascal."

"Rascal?" he laughs through a bite of food.

"like the raccoon? from that book?" it's a kid's story.

"why?" he snorts. I take a second to chew before replying.

"I just get really overwhelmed by certain sensory things-- like, I hate being sticky or having any kind of weird texture on my hands. so whenever we went out to eat or anything, I would always sit on the outside of the booth so I could run to the bathroom and wash my hands as I pleased." I explain all of this with a slight frown on my face. it's true, I've just never really thought about it.

"I don't like sticky stuff, either." he offers.

"yeah, it got pretty bad. but I guess I just grew out of it. I'm not sure when." I pluck a piece of pepperoni off the top and slide it into my mouth.

Spencer takes in this information for a second while he eats, and I'm momentarily worried that I've overshared. he came for some food and now I've served up a weird childhood memory to accompany it.

but then he does something funny and altogether endearing.

"actually, raccoons are very cleanly creatures, despite their dietary habits." he tells me.

frankly, it makes me feel better than anything else that he could have said. "fastidious little things, right?"

"exactly." he chuckles. his shoulders are hunched, elbows leaning on his knees.

"fix your posture." I say gently, noticing the way his spine curves abysmally when he's sitting across from me. his cheeks turn a pretty pink, but he follows directions.

"is it that bad?" he's a bit embarrassed. immediately, I soften and do what comes easily, making a joke.

"if you don't work on it, you're gonna be living in a French cathedral by the age of thirty."

Spencer snorts-- genuinely almost chokes on his food-- and looks at me with his almost childlike eyes. there's something in them that I can't decipher at all, almost so obvious that it completely goes over my head.

"that was mean." he's still trying to recover from the onset of giggles, and I lean forward to grab another slice, suppressing a proud grin myself.

"your future straight-backed self will thank me."

"I'll remember that." he nods dutifully.

"I'm sure you will."

we share a secretive smile before I bite into my pizza and launch into a different subject. the more I learn about Spencer, the more I want to know. I feel like there are things beneath every new surface that would be fascinating to understand.

"what's it like having an eidetic memory?"

he frowns like he isn't sure how to answer. I thought he'd already have something locked and loaded, a prepared response for a question he definitely gets frequently. when he opens his mouth, I find myself hanging on every word. "it's... interesting."

"blessing or a curse?"

"both."

"would you ever give it up if given the option?" I narrow my eyes a bit. I'm especially curious about this.

"no." this is delivered with certainty. for a second, I stare at him with about a million more questions in my head. of course, they're completely out-of-bounds and way too personal, but they're still there.

"hm." I say instead. as usual, delivering thrilling commentary at every turn.

Spencer peeks at me over his pizza for a second, seeming to want to say something else, but decides against it. our eyes meet; I'm not sure what it is, maybe a silent agreement or something else that's unspoken, but we decide not to press further on either end.

whatever he's got tucked away in that big brain of his, he's not ready to talk about it with anyone-- much less a new colleague in a dumpy motel. there's a time and place for certain things, and boundaries to respect.

I change the subject before he can make some lame excuse to leave. for some reason, I just don't want him to leave me here in this room.

taglist (lmk if you wanna be added/removed for this series): @reidsconverse @voidsfilm

[nonfuntional-mallgoth]

My Captive Pup (James March x Trans Male Reader)

Author’s Note: agsksh y’all this is literally just my guilty kink & main kink pushed together hope ya enjoy the horror

Warnings: male reader, could be considered dubcon but keep in mind: this is all fictional, he/him pronouns, sexually intimate situations, implied kidnapping, captive reader, trans male reader, cis male/gnc James, collars/chains, light puppy play, 69-ing

———————

You were groggy as always when you woke up. You weren’t sure why James still slid that powder into your treat before bed, but it did help you sleep soundly. You rubbed your eyes a little as you sat up in your soft, round bed, a yawn escaping you.

The bed was comfortable, but made sure you stayed in your place as a dog. It was large, plush, covered in thousand thread count sheets and the softest possible blankets. Your favorite stuffies were tucked in by the pillows, alongside your chew toys, designed for human-pup use. James only had the finest of things for you.

You fondly touched the thick, yet comfortable, leather collar around your throat. It did make you a bit sad he still locked it. You wouldn’t run away, you adored your little room! Not to mention how well you were treated. You were a very spoiled little puppy.

The collar connected to a metal chain bolted to the wall. When you were first brought in there were only four links of metal. You couldn’t leave the bed without permission, had no hope of doing anything without James. Now you had a much longer lead after a month or so of obedience, not that it took much discipline for you to behave.

You were most thankful that your new chain could easily reach the bathroom, and you didn’t have to ask anymore.

You pushed down the blankets, exposing your thinly covered body. You could of course wear anything you liked, but you chose a very soft sweatshirt and a high-end brand of boxer briefs. James allowed your binder when you needed it, but considering most days were spent lounging, sleeping, fucking... it wasn’t always nescasary or safe. Both you and him knew you were his sweet puppyboy.

You made your way to the bathroom and brushed your teeth, washed your face with cool water, and played around with your hair until it looked the way you wanted. You took a moment to stretch your legs and walked around the room, chain clinking quietly behind you. You paused at the record player, the bin beside it full of every album you had ever loved. You plucked out a well-loved old copy of something James had suggested to you, a collection of 20s swing music. You slid the record from its casing and were careful dropping the needle. You’d be devestated if you scratched the vinyl.

The music echoed gently off the old walls of your Cortez room, volume low but hauntingly soft as well. Your attention was only drawn from the instrumental by the lock on your door clicking open.

A small wiggle went through your body, as if you would wag your tail if you had it in. You knew who was behind the door, and despite it only having been a few hours, your heart was aching for him.

James stepped inside with a grin towards you. “Ah, you’re awakes already. I do hope I didn’t keep you waiting, pup.” He hummed, accent dripping thick like honey as he set his keys by the door where you couldn’t reach.

You shook your head, smiling big. “No, no not at all. I only got up a bit ago.”

He stepped forward and cupped your face, his hands heavy with the scent of washed-away iron. “Good. I’d hate for you to get impatient and do something brash.” He chuckled, planting a loving kiss on your forehead.

“I would never.” You teased in return, hands coming up to rest like paws against his chest.

He hummed quite fondly, brushing a hand through your hair and holding the back of your head in place. “Would my puppy like a morning treat? You have been oh so good lately, so patient while I work and slave away to keep you safe here.” He pressed his thumb into your lower lip, pulling it down to make you open your mouth for him.

You gave a slight groan as he controlled your movements. “P-Puppy would really like a treat, thank you, James...”

His eyes brightened when you used his name. He had instructed you to call him ‘master’ or ‘sir’ until you felt comfortable enough using his first name. This was a sign you truly did love the space, the life he had created just for you.

“Perfect. Be a good little thing, do just what I say. We’re going to try something new.” He purred, wrapping the chain coming from your neck around his hand.

Your heart lept as he led you back to your bed by your leash, the pressure of the collar on your throat enough to get you damp between the legs. He laid down on the bed fully, popping open the button on his trousers and undoing the zip painfully slow.

“Slide down your boxers, pup. Then you’re going to sit here.” He smirked and pointed to his own face.

Your face slowly flushed a deep shade of red as you nodded eagerly. You hooked your fingers into your boxers and pushed down down your thighs and to the ground. By the time you stepped out of them, James was holding his mostly limp cock in his own hand, eyes focused between your legs.

“Good dog.” He praised, rubbing his thumb along his shaft as his free hand gave your leash a firm tug. “Come here now, sweet boy.”

You gave a soft whimper when pulled forth so harshly, not that you didn’t like it. You walked close to him and climbed onto the bed, shifting to straddle your legs on either side of his head. He purred low and predatory as you laid down atop his body comfortably.

“So well behaved, so pretty.” He hummed, both hands moving to cup your ass and squeeze. “Take your time pup, but I expect you to take the whole thing if you want to be good.” His thumbs dipped into your folds, spreading them apart.

You could feel his breath on your hot, drippy entrance. “Y-Yes James, I wanna be good.” You mumbled out as your own hands moved to wrap around his thick cock.

He grunted and rubbed a finger agaisnt your tight little hole, lips pressing to your cheek affectionately. “Good boy, good pup.” He muttered as he rocked his hips up into your hands.

You opened up your mouth and ran your tongue along his slit, taking the head of his dick in your mouth and sucking gently. You wanted to start slow, really give James a show. You wiggled your butt in front of his face, only to feel his fingers dig harshly into the pudgy skin there to keep you still.

He pressed his face in more suddenly than you expected.

The wet tongue rubbed back and forth along your folds, slit, and tiny cock. He held your hips and ass tightly, kneading the muscle to keep you relaxed. He breathed heavy through his nose so his mouth could stay busy.

You moaned softly as you worked on starting to bob your head down further around his dick. You took in the first inch of six, tongue rubbing each vein as your eyes fluttered closed. You almost wished you could witness this from the third person, watch yourself getting tongue fucked with a cock down your throat.

James muttered muffled praise as you sucked him off so well, but was clearly busy with his own task. His thumbs slipped back down and both pushed inside of you before pulling outward. He spread you open like it was nothing. He growled loud at the sight of your soaking entrance. “That’s it, so perfect for me little puppy. You’re always perfect.” He moaned before spitting inside of you.

You whimpered loud as you tried to clench closed, with no luck of course thanks to his hands keeping you on display. You pushed down the next two inches of his dick, swallowing around him as you tried to suppress the gag you felt coming. You managed to do so, tongue swirling around his shaft slowly.

The noises James made were feral, animalistic. He was a very composed man until it came to you. His tongue plunged inside quick and he let you finally tense around the intrusion. He ran the wet muscle around every ridge and wall inside you, fucking it back and forth without warning or time to adjust.

The cry that left you was so weak but barely audible with the shaft so far in your mouth. You quickened you’re movements in an attempt to take him in all the way each time. You managed to bury your nose all the way down to his balls just as his tongue was pushing flush to your cervix. You had no idea how he got that far in, but it made your eyes roll back into your head.

His own growl was brutal and threatening as the thrusts of his tongue became almost violent. A strong hand slipped down to your belly, fingertips clawing down your happy trail to your sweet little cock. He pressed two slick covered fingers to it and rubbed in the way he knew would drive you crazy.

The sounds that filled the room were obscene.

James was teetering on the edge as he yanked your chain harshly, pulling you off his cock entirely. He pulled from your folds only to bite down hard on your cheek, growling loud. “Hands.” He commanded flatly.

Both your hands wrapped around his now soaked cock. Pre-cum and spit mixing together as they slid down all over him. You pumped fast and eager, mouth softly open and eyes winced closed as you knew how he wanted to finish.

However, you were his priority. You would be allowed to climax first, always.

His tongue flicked and moved back inside of you as his digits stroked your dick frantically. He grunted and groaned inside of you, vibrations reaching every inch of your wet walls. He swallowed down all the slick you granted him.

Orgasm hit you like a freight train.

You cried out weakly as your hips shuttered and bucked forward. Your slick cum slid all along his tongue and down to his face. Your movements on his cock got sloppy, but he loved it.

He came hard, thick white cum splattering over your mouth and face. He throbbed in your hands, twitching until you rubbed out the last drop. His dick slowly softened in your grasp as you planted heavy and shaky.

James slowly removed his tongue, his own breath labored as he chuckled low. He kissed your poor reddened folds and licked a long strip over them. He swallowed and licked clean all of your cum he could before his hands moved to your sides. He flipped you down on your back and sat up, leaning over you. He grabbed your chin harshly, tilting your head around to observe how his jizz dripped along your features.

He smiled as he watched you lick your lips clean and grin so shyly up at him. He leaned down and ran his tongue over your jaw and up your cheekbone, swallowing down some of his own cum. “What a good puppy you are. Well behaved, good listener. My good pup...” he purred sweetly, rubbing a hand back through your hair to massage your scalp. “How are you feeling?”

You hummed lazily and soft, hands reaching up to cup his face. “So good. Thank you, thank you so much, James.” You mumbled out with a weak, crackling voice.

He laughed softly and kissed your lips, salty cum in both your mouths. Neither of you cared. “I’ll clean you up, lay here for me. Be good.” He said a bit sternly as he got up and walked to the bathroom, plucking his trousers from the floor as he did.

When he came back he looked much cleaner than you. He must have washed up, rinsed his mouth and hands, put his trousers back on. He had a cool rag in his hand as he sat beside you, nudging your legs open. “You took your treat very well, just like a good pup should.” He praised as he wiped away the cum first from your face, and then your cock. “I can’t stay long today, will you be alright alone?”

“Mmhm, I’ll be fine.” You muttered with a light tone in your voice. “Was I good..?” You asked, even though you knew the answer.

He laughed softly and laid beside you once you were clean, rag set aside for now. He cupped your face and brought you in for a gentle kiss. “You were very good little puppy, so good. You know that, don’t you?”

You giggled tiredly and nodded. “I know m’a good puppy. Your good puppy.” You pressed a finger to James’ nose, effectively booping him.

He couldn’t help but grin wide when you did that. He grabbed your wrist and kissed your palm. “Of course you know.” He kissed up each finger. “Take a nap, sweet thing. I’ll have one of the staff bring you something for breakfast.”

You snickered a little, grinning big. “I already had breakfast.”

James rolled his eyes but kept his smile as he buried his face against the space just above your collar. “You are awful my darling.” He said with a slight growl as he nipped your skin.

You squealed dramatically when bitten but didn’t stop smiling. “Mean!”

He laughed and you found yourself doing the same. He pressed your heads together, laying with you for as long as he could until his responsibilities called him away from your side.

He would be back soon enough, with more treats for his little puppy.

[shadow--writer]

I Got a Feelin' I Might Have Lit the Very Fuse

hmmm it’s a writing weekend. And the start of what’s going to be an awful week haha. So expect more of me peddling my brainworms (halp I have fallen back in love with these two to the point where friends have started sending me prompts for them)

title (it’s slowed bc WHY TF NOT)

Maeve x Lucas. Second meetings might go better than firsts 3k

TW: none!

@dela-png

A week had passed, and it was slow. Her regulars, of course, had been popping in and out keeping things from being boring. As much as she appreciated that...she was going to kill them. 

How on Earth someone could anger a squirrel that badly she would never know. 

But today was calm. Calm and yes sure the ‘q’ word. 

She refused to even think of the ‘q’ word. Knowing her luck the moment she thought it, seven people would be flooding into her clinic. 

With food poisoning.  

She let out a low groan. Slow days were nice and all, but usually she had company. It was eerily silent when she was alone. 

And she was bored. 

Maeve pushed herself off the counter. She could stand to reorganize her herbs and medicine cabinet. She needed to relabel some of the bottles and jars anyways, with the amount she pulled them off the shelves she smudged her script.

She started moving the jars off the shelves, muttering to herself as she looked at the labels and did her best to decipher the smeared ink.

She had only pulled the herbs off the shelves and onto the counter when the bell above her door rang sweetly into the silence. She stopped her humming, pushing the fraying edges of her handkerchief away from her eyes. 

Oh yeah sure so now someone came in. 

Forcing a smile and a fake cheery tone to her voice, she turned around. “I’ll be with you in a moment!” she called. She couldn’t see the door over the stack of herb jars on her counter. Some were pretty empty, she’d need to stop at the market again or go foraging. 

Ugh foraging. 

It wasn’t that she disliked foraging. But it was time consuming. 

And she usually got lost.

But she didn’t like to talk about that part. 

“Thumbelina!”

She froze. She knew that nickname. She knew that voice. 

The smile climbing onto her face became real. 

“Giant!” she said, moving out from behind the counter. He looked better today. Not as bloody. In his arms he cradled the little boy from the dock. “Oh! You must be Will!” she said, dusting off her skirt. 

The boy looked much better than he had. Colour had returned to his face, and he didn’t seem to be in as much pain. That was good. She knew the bite must ache but it was good seeing him up and about.  

She stepped forward, offering her hand to shake. He shook it once, swinging their arms up violently before slamming them back down. 

Whoa there.

She laughed in her surprise. “Firm handshake you’ve got there!” she said, drawing her hand back to her side. “So what brings you to my corner of the world? Need more pain meds? The stitches okay?”

Lucas blinked at the questions, she directed her attention to the boy in his arms (who looked so tiny compared to Giant, she noted with a giggle). 

Will smiled, he was missing one of his front teeth. “Nope! Lucas brought me over to say hello! And bring you somethin!” Will ducked his head closer to her, mock whispering. Or whispering at the volume a seven year old thought was a whisper.

Aka not at all. 

“He also said he wanted to see ya again!”

Her eyes flicked back up to the man in question. His cheeks had been flooded with pink. The blush climbed all the way up to his ears. This was why she never told seven year olds anything. They had no filter, it was cute, but embarrassing. 

Though the way Lucas blushed was adorable.

She pressed her fingers to her lips as she chuckled. “Well, I’m glad you came by. It’s nice to see you again,” she said. “Would you care for something to drink? I have tea in the back.”

Lucas’ head snapped up. “We don’t want to bother you! To- W-Will here just brought a gift over to thank you.”

“Thank me?”

“You...saved his life.”

Oh yeah right she did do that. “And you’re just the messenger?” 

Will tugged on Lucas’ sleeve, the man gently setting the boy down on the ground. He was walking, that was great!

“The others n I made you somethin! Sylvie mentioned yer cloth head thing.”

She touched the ratty thing on her head. It was falling apart at the seams but she didn’t have time to make another.

Will held a deep green fabric up to her. She blinked, reaching down to grab it. It was made from a soft cotton, and it smelled nice. Like cinnamon and other spices. “So we made you a new one!”

She pulled the one in her hair out, shaking out her bangs. They were a gnarled mess, but soft against her cheeks. “Thank you,” she whispered, pulling the new handkerchief into her curls. She tied it under her ponytail, bringing her hand down as she smiled down at the little boy. “It’s beautiful.”

“Lucas also wanted ta help!” the boy chattered on. He reached over to Lucas, tugging on his hand. Lucas shuffled forward, looking a little embarrassed. “We couldn’t afford any fancy fabric so Lucas gave us one of his old shirts!” The boy beamed up at her, his hand so tiny in Lucas’. “Sylvie did the little flowers!”

Oh! She didn’t even notice the messy embroidery. She ran a hand against them, it was bumpy beneath her fingers. 

She loved it. 

She squatted down, it made it easier to be at eye level with him. “Well tell her I said thank you and that her flowers are beautiful.”

“She said they were bellflowers. Those are Lucas’ favourite flowers! They’re the only ones she knows how ta make though...”

She looked back up at Lucas. He looked like he wanted to be anywhere but there in that moment. She giggled. “Bellflowers are beautiful, Lucas has good taste.”

“Do ya like it?” He stood on his toes, eyes all lit up. 

She smiled, closing her eyes as she tilted her head. “Oh I love it! I’ve been needing something new to pull my hair back for a while now. It was very kind of you to make something for me.”

“I uh, also brought you lunch,” Giant said, bringing her attention back up. Squatting down to be at eye level with the seven year old boy was a smart idea. 

Until she realized how much more he would tower over her. 

Goodness gracious.  

She froze, teetering on her toes. “What?”

He held up a little cloth bundle tied with a string. A nervous smile worked its way across his lips. “It’s some extra stew I made to bring with me. A...thank you from me.”

“You didn’t have to do that. I’m fine eating out.”

“But a home cooked meal is much better than eating out, wouldn’t you think?”

She pressed her palms to her knees as she got to her feet. “Well...yes, but I don’t have time to make a home cooked meal. Let alone a good one. I am an awful cook,” she joked. 

“Oh I’m sure you aren’t that bad.”

She cringed. He was so very wrong. “...oh no I am that bad. ‘Permanent ban from the kitchen back home’ bad. And that’s when I even eat something- oh.”

He was glaring at her. 

She did not like him glaring at her. 

“What?” she asked, drawing out the syllables.

“‘Even eat something’? Thumbelina you’ve got to eat. You’re tiny enough already.”

“Well I don’t have time! Dumba- dumb people don’t wait.” She caught herself. No swearing in front of the kid. 

“You should still find time to eat something. Were you even planning to get something to eat today?”

“Well y-yes!”

He raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. 

“Okay, no, but I usually get something to snack on during slow days. What’s got your goat in a twist anyways? It’s not like we know one another well.”

Her words struck a chord. He looked away from her, rubbing the back of his neck. “I...I cook,” he admitted. “So I’ve started paying attention to people’s eating habits. Yours are atrocious by the way.”

“Atrocious? You only know my lunch eating habits!” She sulked, placing a hand to her chest. “You wound me.”

“It’s true. Worse than the kids at the dock. At least they come to bother me when they’re hungry. Like stray cats.”

“Hey! We aren’t stray kitties!” Will whined. 

Lucas affectionately rubbed his knuckles into the crown of Will’s head. He swatted at the taller man to no avail. “Well to me you sure look like cats.”

“Yer just blind then!” Will huffed, trying to smooth down his hair. 

Giant turned back to her, handing her the cloth bundle. She took it, her lips twisting. “I brought you lunch out of the goodness of my heart, so I expect you to eat it at a reasonable time.” His tone was teasing but she knew his words had weight. 

“How will you know if I don’t?” she asked, her voice taking a sing-song tone.

He was still not as impressed. Ugh he was no fun. “I’ll come back to check on it.”

“...you wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“You have work!”

“I can take breaks. I work hard, the least they could give me.”

She sighed, cradling the meal he made her to her chest. “Fine! I give, I give! I’ll eat your lunch.”

He smiled. “Good.” His eyes kept moving to her hair. She touched the handkerchief, his cheeks darkened a little. 

Wait...if this was made out of his shirt…

She felt her cheeks warm. 

Oh. 

Oh.

The spices she was smelling was him.

They locked eyes, before they both turned away. She swore she was blushing down to her toes. And she never really blushed. 

Damn you Giant. 

He coughed, looking back at Will who was watching them very amused. “We’d better go little man,” Lucas said.

“Awww but I wanna stay a little longer!” He had wandered off to look at her herbs before exploring the clinic’s many tables. Currently he was looking at the deep grooves on the table. 

Lucas caught her eye again. His eyes were still a vibrant blue. Reminded her of the water when it reflected the sky. “We don’t want to bother her anymore than we have,” he said with a low chuckle. “She’s very busy.”

“Not today I’m not!” she blurted out. She hated to admit it, but she enjoyed his company. Teasing or not it was nice to be able to talk to someone. 

Lucas paused, she bit her lower lip as she smiled nervously. “If you’d like, you can stay for tea. No one’s come in today, and so it’s been very...eerie. I’d appreciate the company.”

Lucas’ brows crinkled. She wanted to smooth out the lines. “Is...that okay?”

“Of course! I’m offering.”

Will grinned, grabbing her hand. “Well if she says we can stay it’s only polite! That’s what ya taught us, right Lucas?”

Lucas sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Sometimes I wonder if you guys listen to me and then you pull this crap.”

She chuckled. “As the little eel survivor says, it’s only polite.”

“Fine. We can stay for tea.”

She smiled broadly, leading them to her small backroom. There she kept a few extra aprons, gloves and her more powerful medicines (magic pills and all that) locked up tight. 

She grabbed her kettle, settling on the fruity green tea she’d found in the market a while back but hadn’t had the chance to try. She hummed as she put it over her small stove. 

Will was chatting with Lucas about the magic items she had strewn about. Lucas looked at her, pleading for help. 

She laughed, answering the plea. “You like my charms?” she asked. “I had help making them.”

“You can do magic?” Will asked, eyes lighting up. 

She was a little taken aback, but to a little kid, of course magic was...well, magic. She smiled. “Oh yes! I can do all sorts of things. Takes a bit out of me, but I can do some illusions, I know some healing. Herbal magic is fun. And palm reading was just something my sisters and one of my cousins picked up on.”

“Palm reading?” Giant asked as the kettle started to sing. 

She moved, putting some of the tea leaves in her infuser, letting it seep in the hot water for a bit. 

“Yes, palm reading. It’s quite easy actually.” She brought the tea over to the table. She could bring glasses and the ice when the tea was steeped enough. “I can do a reading if you’d like,” she offered. 

Will bounced up and down. “Can I help? Can I? Can I?”

Giant laughed. “Calm down little man, let’s let the fairy doctor do her thing first.”

She winked at Will. “I can teach you after I do his reading.”

Will grinned, sitting back. He wiggled in his seat. He was very energetic. It was refreshing. 

Lucas held out his right hand, she reached forward, their fingertips brushing. “Your hands are cold,” he said, his hand jerking back a little. 

She held firm as she laughed. “I’m aware.”

His palms were calloused. Rough under her touch. Scarred from hard labor. She traced the lines and creases on his hand. She felt his pulse jump under her fingertips as she brushed his wrist.  

“Fire hands,” she said, meeting his eyes. 

“Fire hands? What does that mean?”

“The type of hands you have. Our hands represent one of the four elements, just like astrology. Earth, air, fire, water. You can tell a lot about a person based on their hands.” 

She looked back down at his palm. She traced the length of his palm, and then her fingers danced over his own. “Fire hands show people to be passionate, confident, and industrious. Driven by desires and on a bad day you may lack tactfulness and empathy.”

“And what about your hands?” His voice was soft. 

She looked at her hand, her fingers freezing over his own. “Mine are...water hands. In tune with my emotions, intuition, and psychic ability. Fueled by compassion and imagination, often creative. Also extremely sensitive and my feelings are easily hurt, causing undesirable interpersonal stress.” 

He chuckled. 

She brushed the edge of his hand by his pinky. “Marriage line.” Her fingers moved down to the long line below the marriage line, it curved up between his middle and index finger. “Love line.” Below that was a small curve starting at the flesh of his thumb meeting his palm. “Wisdom.” Two more lines, starting at the bottom of his palm. One curved to match the wisdom line, the other straight up to the middle of his middle and ring finger. “Career and life lines.” Small sun line. 

She searched his palm for his health line. “What are you-” he cut himself off as she traced the broken up health line.

“Health.”

He paused at her touch, she could feel his heart beat race under her touch. “Well Thumbelina? What does my palm say?” 

She breathed in, letting the air out with a sigh. “Love and marriage,” she started, tracing his love line again. His hand jerked under hers. “Line is long and curved. A happy long lasting love. But it’s all in your hands. Communication is key with this love.” 

His eyes widened. “How can you tell?”

She winked. “I just can.” She brushed her thumb along his career line. “Career and business. You’re ambitious and have strong self-confidence. If you have a dream in your heart and you’ll work hard to see it come true.”

She bent closer to his hand. “Health. You’re easily tired. You exercise a lot but don’t take the breaks you need. Short breaks will keep you refreshed and healthy. Don’t forget to exercise even if it’s hard. Don’t forget to rest and take care of your body.”

He chuckled. “I think my work is all the exercise I need.”

“But you still work out?”

“...sometimes.”

“And do you rest?”

“...”

“Thought so.”

She smiled, looking at the last lines on his palm. “Your personality and mental state. Connected to life and health. You know your mind well, you adapt easily. With your adaptability people look to you to lead them. Though reading other people and their feelings is a challenge for you.”

She looked up at him to see his face. 

But his face was close to hers. 

And he looked back at her at the same time.

So their foreheads slammed together. 

Hissing a yelp, she fell back, palm pressed to her forehead. He did the same, Will laughing at them both so hard he fell over. 

“Well now we have matching bruises,” she said with a groan, making sure they didn’t break skin. No blood. Just a bruise. Goddess of the unholy stars did that hurt. 

“My bad,” he wheezed, pressing a finger to the reddening skin. “You’ve got quite a noggin.”

She got to her feet, smiling a little. “Could say the same about yours.”

He watched her move back. She couldn’t tell what he was thinking about as she turned away from him. His forehead where they bonked heads was starting to turn red.

She got to her feet to go get ice and cups. She set three glasses down, pouring the tea over the ice. The ice cracked under the heat. She slid the glasses to the boy. Giant was still looking over his palm. Her fingers tingled from the small use of magic. 

She handed his cup to him. He grabbed the cup from her hand, their fingertips brushing again. 

There was a small spark of magic at the touch, making her jump. 

He didn’t seem to feel it. Or was able to hide the fact he could. She wondered if he had magic, it was like a surge of something strong coming from deep within her. It was unfamiliar. 

It had to be his. 

Waving her thoughts off and ignoring the weird flutter in her stomach, she turned to Will, who was gulping down the tea like a dog to water. 

She chuckled, holding out her hand. Her eyes were alight with the challenge and excitement she felt when she got to teach something. Her voice was low in pitch, but her tone was filled with lithe amusement. “So, wanna learn how to read palms?”

[clairecrive]

“Look at him!”- Bane x reader imagine

This is for the anon that asked: For a Bane request, what about the reader approaches him about getting a pet and reader ends up getting said pet whether he approves or not? Hope you like it!

Requests are always open!

Tag list: @mollybegger-blog​ (let me know if you wanna be added)

How difficult could it be to convince someone to adopt a dog? I mean, who wouldn't want to have a bundle of joy in their life? You would have met with such resistance on the subject. You really underestimated the situation. One of the reasons you had found Bane so fascinating was the way he has always been able to broaden your horizon and let you see things and sides that you would never think existed. You had had such different lives and had so diverse experience that your union seemed almost doomed to an outsider. But you had always reacted warmly to his different point of view and opinions and much to anyone surprises, so did he. Well, up until this point anyway.

"Babe c'mon, you're saying no before even hearing me out." You had been nagging him about adopting a dog for a few days now but he had always quickly dismissed the subject with a shake of his head and an icy glare. Shame on him to think that you would be so easily deterred though.

"Look around you, do you think this is a place where a dog can live?" This was the first time he argued about it and so far, he was already loosing. You lived under the city. And Gotham was fucking huge, so.

"Absolutely. There's a lot of space where he or she could roam free and happy. Besides, you basically have beasts running around this place. I don't see how a beautiful puppy can cause you any problem."

"I don't have the time to take care of him and neither do you."

"Please, they're not so high-maintenance as you're making them out to be. They only need food and lots of love, which we have lots of." You easily pointed out. Besides, you were thinking of a company buddy nor a guarding dog.

He didn't give you an answer, just a pointed look and you knew that you were nowhere near convincing him.

"Why are you so opposed to getting a puppy? They're small and cute and an endless source of love and affection."

"Do I strike you as the affectionate type?" He deadpanned looking at you for a few seconds before focusing back to his paper. Obviously not.

"I know that you're not. Very well actually, always begging you for a little of attention." you sassed because in this case, appearances were not deceiving. It's not like his lack of affection came from the absence of feelings or emotion. You knew that he was deeply traumatised and he has a hard time showing affection other than with his eyes. Just being with you was a huge step forward for Bane and you're aware of that. While you appreciated deeply this will of his to step out of his comfort zone to please you, you couldn't help but feel something missing. Because there was. And it was not only a reference to his inability to kiss you. That was for obvious reasons. Sometimes though a soft caress was just as full of meaning as a kiss, especially when it was pretty much the only way he could show affection that was PG-13.

"Oh, I see what's happening here. You want a dog because I don't give you enough attention. That's selfish." He snickered and you were taken back by how cruel he sounded. Was he trying to hurt you? To make you feel guilty about your wish and desires? Ugh, such a man move.

"First of all, I'm not selfish. Seeking affection from the man you love isn't selfish, it's human. You don't have the same need for it and that's fine. That makes you different but it does not make me weak or weird. Plus, don't pretend that you won't be head over heels for a puppy after a while because that's a load of bullshit." Now the conversation has shifted to a more personal subject and the tone both of you restored to use didn't help to make the atmosphere less tense.

"That's not what I meant and you know it. There's no place for a dog in our lives. I'm sorry." You knew that in his way he was trying to apologize for his cutting words but now he had crossed a line and you were so fucking done with his dismissive attitude and assertive tone that suddenly you wondered why you were even asking him for permission. He wasn't your husband much less your father. You didn't owe him an explanation nor did you need his approval. Of course, his enthusiasm and participation would have made the whole experience even more jolly but it wasn't mandatory. You could do this even without him.

"Maybe in yours but you bet your ass that there is in mine."

You didn't realize that things had gone sour up until the moment you stormed off his room. Maybe you were being a little dramatic about it but that's just what happens when you're frustrated. And God only knows how much Bane is good at it. Despite what it could have looked like, your theatrical exit didn't mean you were going to leave him. As if. You hadn't climbed on top of the mountain just to go sliding down it at the last minute. You know him and you knew that he just needed some time to get adjusted to the idea. Or well, you hoped so. Because there was a beautiful light brown curly poodle in your arms now and since the first time your eyes landed on his quivering form, you knew that only death could separate you from the little thing.

Bane was pushed at the back of your mind, he was going to deal with it. He had to. Maybe he'd throw a fit at first but you'd guarantee that he would love him just as much as you did. He was the best little boy you knew after all. You had just got home from the animal shelter and was currently laying on your bed when a loud knock was heard. You quickly turn around to weakly try to hide the little thing with your body. You didn't answer, knowing already that it was him, but then again he wasn't asking for permission, he was just notifying you of his presence. Well then, so would you.

"Y/N?" His voice came muffled by the ever-present mask on his face. He sounded almost uncertain. He didn't know where he stood after last night. You had stormed off and he didn't come to your room that night to sleep. You didn't think too much of it given that it wasn't an unusual thing for him to do. He often works all night and you always wondered how he managed to function without a good night sleep.

You just hummed in response, too focused on playing with your new buddy. He was growing his teeth so he had the tendency to bite your fingers, his teeth were so tiny though that you hardly noticed.

"Listen, about last night-" he started but stopped when he came closer enough to the bed you were sitting on to see the puppy you were holding. "- was totally pointless seeing as you went ahead and did it anyway." he growled displeased with the fact that you went behind his back.

"You're my boyfriend and I love you but I don't need to ask for your permission. I wanted a dog and so I adopted one. You don't want it and that's fine. He won't be a burden for you in any way, I assure you. See? Not that selfish." you couldn't help but throw shade at him. What? You weren't angry that he didn't want a dog, but his words last night stung and he hadn't apologized for that yet.

He let out a deep sigh, and you knew that he was feeling guilty. No matter how violent and crude he was with certain people, he never was one to hurt people without a reason, people that he loved nor women. And you ticked two out of the three boxes.

"You're the least selfish person I know, I'm sorry for yesterday. I didn't mean what I said." He simply offered but you took his apology gladly. Turning towards him, setting the dog on the ground so that he could explore a little, you simply looked at him in the eyes. They are really expressive.

"Does it really bothers you my need of affection? Is it a burden for you?" You ask. The thought that you could come across as clingy had never crossed your mind. Yes, you were affectionate but not that much. Or at least you thought so. But maybe for Bane's standards you were and he was just too kind to tell you.

Sitting next to you, he takes his hands in yours before speaking. "It really doesn't. I've never had someone to love him as you do before. Yes, sometimes it can feel too much but it's a good kind of feeling. Although I worry that you need more than what I can offer you." It was not the first time that he shared with you his apprehension of him not being enough for you. However, he never opened up to you like this before. The intensity of his gaze made him look more vulnerable than ever and suddenly you realized what the fuss was all about. He was scared.

"How many times do I have to tell you that you're more than enough?" Allowing your foreheads to touch, you try and infuse your love to him so that he could feel less insecure. You felt a cold nose poking your leg and smiling a little, you picked him up and held him close to your faces.

"Besides, that's not true. Now you have someone else that will love you endlessly. He won't ever get angry at you and won't ever leave you. Say hi to daddy, baby." You cooed and smiled when the dog started licked Bane's cheek. By the way his eyes narrowed, you figured he was smiling under the mask. You attacked his other cheek with small little kisses so that he was smothered with love.

"We" kiss "love" kiss "you" another kiss. The giggle that he made was music to your ears. Holding you close to his chest, he let himself fall on the bed so that you and the dog were laying on him. Picking him up, Bane observed him for a moment.

"I guess we can keep him." He said and almost as if the puppy understood what he said, he barked and licked Bane's cheek again making you laugh and your heart flutter with joy.

[queenharumiura]

"Good evening, are you Mrs Miura Haru? Oh, so we request your presence at the hospital, your husband is in comatose and we wanted to talk about this with you." The hospital nurse told in the phone, as Haru knew that Hayato did really went to work in a dangerous mission, he was missing for a few days now, as it seems the first news she received. [TYL Hayato]

[Unprompted ask]- You wanna hurt me this way? FINE. Let’s see what I’ll do. //rubbing hands like a fly

Warning: Death mentions for sure, violence? 

It has been days since she’d been told that they lost contact with her husband after he’d gone on a particularly dangerous mission a while back. It was an understatement to say that she was a mess. In front of others, she made sure to keep a strong front to keep them from worrying, but once she closed the door behind her, she’d always collapse to the ground.

From a young age, Haru had always known about Tsuna and the others playing a mafia game, but she also knew that the ‘game’ was all too dangerous sometimes. That much was evident in the way Gokudera and the others would sometimes disappear for a period of time and return injured.

She also happened to know that Tsunayoshi Sawada was dead. This wasn’t common knowledge as it was kept under wraps to prevent mass-hysterics, but it was hard to hide the news from the wife of the right hand man. Sleep? She couldn’t remember the last time she’d slept. Even if she tried, she’d find herself waking up every 20 to 30 minutes to check for messages on her phone.

Did they find him? Was he okay? Was he--? She always stopped herself from thinking too far, too afraid that her thoughts would bring it to reality. It was slowly killing her, keeping secrets from people. Kyoko and Hana had no idea that Tsuna had died, and she couldn’t tell them anything as this was highly confidential information. She only found out by accident.

It still upset her to this day to think that such important information was going to be kept from her, but she could understand why. After hearing about his death, she would have the occasional nightmare of the others succumbing to the same fate.

It would be a lie to say that she wasn’t afraid of dying a painful death, but she was even more terrified of dying before Gokudera and being the source of further grief. He was already tormented over failing to protect his boss and now he had the extra pressure of filling in for the boss.

His work load had doubled… maybe even tripled, and she couldn’t bring herself to nag at Gokudera like she used to. How could she when she knew why he had to do all this extra work now that Tsuna was gone? All she could do was support him from the side, making sure he took some time to eat some food.

Now days she found herself spending time in his office, where he spent most of his time. It smelled a lot like him (and his cigarettes) and she kept this room tidy if nothing else. That way, this room would be ready for him to work at the moment he arrived. She used to joke about how he was married to his desk, affectionally nicknamed ‘desk-chan’.

Haru would try to distract herself by doing other things, but she never could bring herself to finish anything as her thoughts would always drift back to her missing husband. The weight on her ring finger felt heavier each passing day with no word about his whereabouts. If you asked her, she couldn’t begin to tell you how many times she’s cried since being told Gokudera went missing.

Did she try to go out to find him? You know her, she did try. Was she stopped before she could begin? Yes. The others knew her too well. She was in effect kept on house arrest to ensure she wouldn’t do something ‘stupid’. It wouldn’t be good if Gokudera comes back and finds out Haru died because she was rash.

In her sleep deprivation and the stress over what was happening all around her, Haru found herself sinking deep into her thoughts, reflecting on her life. She could’ve had a simpler life. One where she could be married with kids by now. One where she wouldn’t have to worry about getting a call that her husband died, being a widow at not even her 30’s. Did she regret it? Not as much as you would think.

Regardless of all the hardships, she loved her husband and she was here for the long haul.

This was something she didn’t speak to others very often, but there was a time when Haru thought that she was useless and unnecessary. It wasn’t necessarily anyone’s fault but her own. She was weak. It wasn’t Kyoko’s fault that Tsuna liked her and only seemed to have eyes for her. Likewise, it wasn’t his fault for liking Kyoko, she’s perfect, after all. No matter how hard she tried, he wouldn’t ever look her way, not in the way it mattered most, anyways.

She found herself comparing herself to Kyoko and started to think that she was lacking. Maybe she was being a bother. It’s simple to say her self-confidence was hurt, but the self-loathing was far worse. She loved her friends too much to ever blame them for anything. Even a whisper of a thought for such a notion would send Haru reeling with self-hatred. Her relationship with Gokudera did help her build herself back up.

Sometimes, she wondered if she was really right for him. She was holding him back, wasn’t she? He always had to worry about her safety and stress about what would happen to her if she were ever caught. (Simple, Haru would sooner kill herself then let herself be used as a hostage. Of course, he knew that, and that’s why  he worried.)

More than that, she started to fear that she was something like a bad luck charm. Maybe it was that if she loved someone, she had sentenced them to death.

Ring Ring

Ri- “Hello?” Haru immediately answered the phone that was on Gokudera’s desk.

Haru listened to the woman speak on the other line, and she almost forgot how to breathe. Gokudera… was alive… but he was in a comatose? How bad was his situation? Her whole-body breaks into shivers as the fear surged, chilling her blood.

“Yes, I’m his wife. I-I’ll be right there.” She couldn’t help but shed tears in relief upon knowing that he wasn’t dead at least. How dark, to find relief that your husband is in a comatose. No longer able to jump into dangerous situations.

At least, he’s alive.

-

                                                  [time skip bc I can]

-

Haru rushed into the hospital and she was directed by the nurse at the front desk on where to go. She spoke to the doctors before she rushed to his room to see him laying there, looking as if he’s sleeping peacefully. She doubted that to be true. She subconsciously touched the base of her neck.

She’d experienced it first hand, how when he sleeps for too long, his nightmares come to plague him and he is prone to lashing out violently at the nearest person in his perceived sense for danger. That… was a cause of a meaningful conversation with him. At the time, he was more shaken than she was.

If it was her, she’d be willing to die for the sake of her husband. There was no doubt in her mind, but in that situation, it’s different. She would die for her husband, but she wouldn’t die by her husband. He already tormented himself over failing Tsuna, but to add on almost killing his wife by almost strangling her to death because of his trauma?

She sat beside him silently, taking his one hand in her own, sobbing for who knows what number it was that day. He felt warm.

“You promised you’ll come back, but I didn’t think it’d be like this, Baka-dera.” She sobbed quietly, clutching onto his hand for dear life. “If you die too, what do you expect me to do?” What would happen to the Vongola? She knew very little about his work as he kept his work private, but she was a learned individual.

If she had to, she could read the backlogs of all the paperwork and get a feel for what needs done. Don’t underestimate your wife who only attended the most prestigious schools in her younger years.

A bitter laugh escapes her, “Who am I kidding. If you die, I don’t know if I could live on without you.” She meant this both emotionally and literally. If even the right hand man were to die, the Vongola was on a fast track to death, and as his wife, she would surely meet a gruesome end.

Well, if she were to die, at least she’d be with her husband. That’s something to look forward to if push comes to shove.

“Bad man, by the time you wake up, my head will be full of white hair from all the stress you gave me.” She could only crack a joke in a situation like this because that’s how she coped.

Taking a deep breath, she exhaled slowly wiping her tears away with her hands. “Right, your wife isn’t weak, is she? If you’re out of commission, then I have to take over. I’m sure you’d yell at me for this, but guess what? You can’t speak up to stop me.” She paused, as if hoping he’d wake up and call her stupid like he always would.

Biting her lower lip to stop the quivering, “I knew what I was marrying into. Let me take on the responsibility this time. Who knows? I might even do a good job. If not… don’t keep me waiting too long.” The unspoken words being that she intended to do her best to help the Vongola while he was out of commission. If she died in the process, she could at least say she did her best and feel no regret.

Sparing one last look at him she pulled out her cellphone to dial a few numbers. First and foremost, the others needed to be notified of his condition and they needed to move him to a more secure location.

You know? The duty of the wife is to look after her husband in sickness and health.

I’m your wife until death, and death may come for one of us sooner than we thought.

I’m sorry for being selfish, but I hope it comes for me first.  

After all, people still need you here.

More than me.

[loveafterthefact]

Love After the Fact Chapter 62: Reach

Lance, Keith, and their friends have a brief but violent encounter with Daibazaal's top predator.

Trigger Warnings: -Blood/Gore -Death

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Lance isn’t sure exactly when it happens, but at some point, a few small amphorae start making their way around the table, and he starts to feel a little warm. One, he can tell, is a sweet, moist wine with a spice to it. It’s delightful, as is a much harsher liquor with a strong floral taste to it.

Unlike at the Frost Ball, Keith, while not quite sober, certainly isn’t drunk. He’s just a little more talkative, a little louder, a little more expressive with his hands, his ears, his face. His tail stays stubbornly wrapped around some part of Lance. The Altean is beginning to think it’s both a source of comfort and support, but also a bit possessive. He doesn’t particularly mind. He likes the idea that Keith’s proud to be with him, instead of uncomfortable or ashamed.

Everyone is slowly coming down from hysterics, still giggling at the awful cutscenes from Phantasm Killbot. Keith had been fascinated by the video game, having never really seen one before. He wasn’t very good at them, but improved a lot at the combat sections over the course of his playthrough with Pidge and Lotor.

“So, Keith,” Pidge begins, still giggling in Lance’s lap. “Did they get your bits right?”

“No. I don't have a red rocket.” Everyone laughs. “I'm a biped, for fuck's sake!” The laughter heightens, Keith grinning from where he’s still leaning against Lance’s side. “Also, I have eight nipples, not three.”

“If it makes you feel better, they didn’t get mine right, either,” Lance laughs. “I’m bigger than that.”

“Like hell you are,” Keith mutters.

“Don’t believe me? I can prove it to you.” Lance pretends to start untying his pants.

“Ew, no!" Pidge shrieks, covering their eyes. “Besides, Adam already told us!”

Lance’s hands freeze. “Adam told you?” He scowls, sighs. “Ah well. I have bigger problems. Judging by this, I am perceived as a cold, heartless, sociopath with a trophy husband whom I keep as a pet, along with the rest of my sizable harem. Go me.”

“Listen, listen.” Keith prods his chosen mate’s arm repeatedly, eager to make him smile, get his attention. “I don’t care what those fucks say about you. You are amazing, and beautiful, and every time I see your stupid face, it makes me smile.”

Lance bites back a laugh, though it shines in his eyes and scales. “Thank you, beloved. You are talented, and stubborn, and every time I see your gorgeous  face, it makes me smile, too.”

“What the fuck, Lance! You can’t steal my thing!” Everyone’s laughing, watching the young princes’ antics, teasing in their periphery.

“But it’s true! I love seeing your face. I’ll go track you down even when I’m supposed to be working just so I can see you.”

“Hm… Well, okay, but I would have expected you to be a bit more creative with you compliments, to be honest.”

“Wow. Tipsy you is merciless. I was not expecting to be annihilated in a single conversation.”

Lotor laughs, smirks at the two of them. “He gets it from his mother. She’s surprisingly… articulate.”

“Mnh, I dunno.” Pidge watches the couple closely. “I think Keith has his own, natural-born talent for it.”

“I have a natural talent for many things,” Keith declares, nibbling on some food. “But I’d never be mean about it. I just wanna make you laugh.”

“Aw, beloved! Quiznak, we need to drink together more often. All these cute little secrets-”

“I knowwwwww! I forgot how to shut up! I hate it!”

Lance grins, slips a bit of quintessence into Keith’s veins to take some of the edge off. He’s never really felt like this before, felt safe to be himself in company, safe to laugh, and goof off, and be physically affectionate with his spouse.

The last time he and Keith drank together, Lance only responded to Keith’s behavior. His people approved of his kindness for not scolding his spouse in public, but would never approve of this, of the way they lean against each other, touch each other, kiss each other.

This time spent on Daibazaal, where touch is more powerful than words, has him wondering if he’s the only Altean that misses their spouse while standing right next to them.

“Lance? You okay?”

“Yeah… I’m going to miss this when I go home. Being with you like this.” He tips their heads together. “I’d lose their respect in a heartbeat back home.”

“Hm.” Keith rubs his cheek against Lance’s shoulder, working his scent beneath the clothes and into the Altean’s skin. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing we-”

A horrific shriek cuts through the night, through their evening.

Keith’s interrupted by screams, shouts from outside. A crash of metal against stone, something falling over and tumbling over the street. Lance hears an unearthly shriek, sees the way the people around him tense, get to their feet. They draw their weapons. Lance follows Keith’s lead, rising to stand beside his spouse.

"A kronil..." Lotor takes charge. “Pidge, Ilun, stay here. Thace, get your kits. Everyone else… Arm yourselves and come with me. Lance, take Ilun’s bow.”

Lance already has Ilun’s bow, an arrow nocked and ready. More shrieks, but the screams have died down. Instead, elk are grunting anxiously, wolves growling and snarling. Mashan comes in, her younger siblings in tow. They’re immediately beset by Thace and Ulaz, checking over their kits for wounds and such.

“Daddy,” Mashan squeaks. “There’s- It’s outside.”

“We know, kitten. Stay here with Ilun and Pidge, okay?” Ulaz turns to his mate. “You stay too. You’re needed.”

Thace nods, not even arguing as he attempts to soothe his children. Lance follows the other Galra into the abandoned square. The citizens, including the hunters, have retreated indoors, apparently unwilling to face whatever made that awful shriek. The night air crackles, the hunting party’s animals are tense, nervous. Wolves taking a protective stance over their cubs, elk dancing where they’re tied for the night.

Keith presses up against his back, and Lance can feel him trembling. As if the restless tension isn’t enough to clue him in, the realization that Keith, fearless, semi-feral warrior prince who lifts grown Alteans off their feet and throws people across training yards, is scared.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lance sees a large shadow leap from the top of one den to another. Turning, he sees another shadow on his other side. There’s two, whatever they are. One lunges at a nearby elk, long fingers and arms diving down the animals throat, pulling its organs through its mouth. To say a chill courses through Lance’s veins would be an understatement. He understands the fear of the seasoned warriors around him. Noting that ends life in such a horrific way could be anything other than terrifying.

His heart is throbbing in his chest, but his hands remain steady. This is why these things are here. They followed the scent of food.

“Lance, stay close to me.”

“I will. I’ve got your back, beloved. I’ve got this.” He’s relieved when Keith doesn’t voice any doubts.

Granted, Keith doesn’t have time to voice anything before one of the creatures lands right in front of Lance. It’s horrifying. A long, thick tail; loose, hanging skin; four, bloody, long-fingered limbs; a dozen or so eyes swaying on stalks, turning in every direction- it doesn’t have a blind spot. It’s face is a collection of small, armored plates surrounding a beak dripping with blood.

The kronil lunges, long-fingered hands reaching for him. Lance ducks out of the way just in time, pulling Keith with him. In his peripheral vision, Lotor, Vrek, and Ulaz are engaging the other beast. No one else is around. They’re all hidden in their homes.

The kronil’s blood-slicked fingers miss Keith’s face by inches. If Lance hadn’t pulled him out of the way… Not something the prince wants to think about. Keith twists, swiping at the animal, but it dodges again, letting out a enrages scream, like daggers scraping down a pane of glass.

As the beast turns back to them again, Keith facing off this time, Lance realizes that this could be a problem. Keith has a sword, not a bow. The kronil’s vicious hands will reach him before he can deliver a killing blow.

“Keith?”

“Yeah?” The animal circles them, trying to find an opening where there’s not a weapon in the way.

“I know you think I’m a bad fighter, but I want you to stay at my back and I’m gonna square off, okay?”

“Okay.”

Lance finds himself facing the kronil, staring it down. He has two choices, keep his bow ready and wait for the beast to finally make a move, hoping he can kill it before it reaches him, or he can try shooting it from here and risking it dodging, leaving him slow to defend himself.

“Okay, here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to shoot at it. It’s going to lunge for me, you come in from the side and slice its hands off. Then, we kill it.”

“Sounds good. Do it.”

Lance considers the circling beast, eyeing the long fingers that wanted to reach down his throat and pull his insides to the outside. If he shoots at its hands, he could still get a beak to the throat. What he needs to do is slow it down. What he needs to do is…

He spies the primary eye that the kronil is using to watch them. It’s larger than the others, swaying, hovering as it moves with them. Decision made, Lance fires, arrow slicing cleanly through the eye. The animal shrieks, shaking its head. Enraged, it leaps at the couple, Keith leaping to the side, sword slicing up through the animal’s arms as Lance dodges its sharp beak, firing another arrow into the side of its head, missing Keith’s cheek by a finger’s width. Keith's sword plunges through the top of its armored head, and blood splatters over both of them, slick and warm

On the opposite side of the square, Lotor’s on the other, larger kronil’s back, twisting it into the beast’s heart. Seeing the fight is over, Lance turns to Keith just in time for the young Galra to pull him into an embrace.

“Hey, beloved. I’m alright. I’m alright.” He squeezes his spouse back regardless. “You’re not hurt at all, are you?”

“No, I-”

“Help! I need some help!”

Lance and Keith take off, trusting the others to secure the area. It’s another hunter, inspecting a glassy-eyed she-wolf, her belly ripped open, blood and milk pooling beneath her. Around her, a litter of cubs, dead.

Keith tugs frantically on Lance’s arm. “Fix it. You can fix her!”

“No,” Lance murmurs. “I can’t.”

“Why not?!” The hunter demands, purple fingers digging into their palms, claws shedding their blood. Keith whimpers, tugging at his clothes. Galra filtering into the square seem equally distraught.

“She’s in shock,” Lance explains, kneeling in the wolf’s puddle, laying a hand on her head. He closes his eyes, threading quintessence through her fading body. “Even if I could fix her, she wouldn’t live. Rapid healing is traumatic, and she can’t handle it… I’m sorry-”

Lance’s eyes flutter, quintessence pooling, glowing beneath his lids, beneath his scales. His pointed ears twitch, mouth curving into a deeper frown. “There’s…” His glowing eyes open, and he reaches beneath the she-wolf, pulling out a small, bloodied cub, stirring weakly in his hand. “Oh, you good mama,” Lance breathes, running a sticky, wet hand over her fur. “You did such a good job.”

Quite suddenly desperate, Lance sets the weak, bleeding pup down in front of the she-wolf’s nose, hoping it stirs something in her. It doesn’t. His heart drops, even in the fact of something he already knew was inevitable.

Life is hard without a mother.

“I’m so sorry, mama. You tried so hard.” Lance lifts his gaze to the heart-broken hunter, still cradling their wolf’s head in their lap. “There’s nothing I can do for her, but I can honor her sacrifice. I can take what’s left of her, and use it to save her cub.”

The hunter nods. “If you can do something, do it.”

Lance nods, draws in a shuddering breath.

“She’s not in pain. She’s too much in shock to feel anything. This will be easy for her. And kind,” Lance promises.

The hunter bows his head, grieving for the loss of their loyal friend.

Summoning his courage, Lance closes his eyes again, drawing his quintessence to tips of his fingers. Keith’s kneeling just behind him, cheek pressed in between his shoulder blades. Realizing just how affected his spouse is, Lance senses the gravity of this animal’s death, the importance her life held for the people.

Drawing on his love for the man at his back, Lance siphons the last of the she-wolf’s energy, threading it into the cub in his hand. When the mother’s life is depleted, he cradles the cub to his chest, sewing his small, damaged body back together as slowly, gently, and carefully as he can.

Lance only heals the cub to the point that it’s out of danger. Once its life is no longer in question, he hands it to the hunter. “He will need splints on his hind legs, and should be confined to a very small, soft space for the night. I can finish healing him tomorrow, when he’s recovered more.”

The hunter nods, carries the cub inside. A pair of hunters lift the she-wolf’s body, carrying her way. Lance turns to Keith, smiling wanly. “Thank you for your help, beloved.”

Keith shakes his head, presses their foreheads together, thumbs brushing over scales. “You have no idea what you just did, but you did it, and I love you for that. That, and so many other things.”

“I love you too, beloved.” Lance tips his head to kiss Keith’s lips. “Come on. We should go home and clean up. We’re all bloodied.”

“Yeah. Yeah, we should.”

Lance doesn’t miss an unfamiliar glow in Keith’s eyes, nor the way the Galra takes his hand first, before Lance has even offered it. Instead of mentioning it, he lets Keith’s tail wrap around his ankle, keeping close against the cold of night as they check on everyone before parting ways.

Daibazaal is dangerous, but he’s never been in safer hands.

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Day 12 : Fantasy/Video Game - Larry Johnson

‘ Bby come over, I miss u. Pizza, games n chill. Mum’s with Henry. ‘ was the text I got from Larry, so of course, I grinned at the phone and putting in my earbuds, I close the book I was reading and go to the bus station, hugging my jacket closer to me and breathing into my scarf, despite my glasses getting all steamed up, and wait until the bus arrives, in the meantime continuing my lecture of the detective book I was reading. 

Of course, Murder on the Orient Express by Agatha Christie is an excellent book, but I can’t say I wasn’t expecting many of the tropes that became such clichees over the years in nowadays detective books and movies, but hey, at least they’re enjoyable!

When I got close to the Addison apartments, I get off the bus and walk my way there, going down to the basement and knocking on the door, waiting for Larry to open the door, which he did sooner than expected, and I quickly got engulfed by a bear hug by my favourite boy.

“Hey, sweety, how are you? I see that you brushed your hair, it looks so smooth and silky! What’s the occasion?” I asked, my arms around his torso, my chin resting on his chest, looking up at him as he was much taller than me. “You coming over is enough of a special occasion for me to try to look my best.” he grinned softly, kissing the top of my head, making my squeal at how sweet he was being, and I burried my face in his chest, hugging him tighter. “You’re so adorable! Oooooff, I wanna fluff you up so bad.” I rubbed my face on his chest like a cat would, acting like a spoiled girl, getting him to chuckle at my behaviour, picking me up, as I put my limbs around him like a baby sloth would, and we got to his room, crashing on the bed and cuddling.

Because come on, cuddling is the best.

“Babe, check this out! I recently got this game called Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time and dude, it’s SO good. And the music, man, the MUSIC is SO neat, I’m sure you’ll love it. Wanna play?” he rolled us so he was on top of me, instead of on the side, and he put one of his hands on my face, as I leaned in to his touch, feeling much warmer and content than before. “How about you play and I watch? You know I love watching you play. You’re so adorable, and I can play with your hair and kiss you and hug you and fluff you up, Larbear.” I giggled as he started blushing and whined at that nickname that everyone is using to tease him, seeing that his mum calls him that too. “Don’t call me that, Kitten, you know it embarrasses me.” he muttered as he got up, put the game in and continued from where he was at, and sat on the bed in a criss-crossed position, patting the place he did with his legs so I could sit between them and watch him play as I would rest my back on his buff chest. “Uhhh this game looks so pretty! And you’re right, the music is gorgeous!” I clap in excitement putting his arms around me so he could both hug me and play. “Knew you’d like it, babe.” he smirked, putting his chin on my head. “What’s this about? Is this little elf guy Zelda? Or why is it called that way?” I asked, curious of the game. “No, Kitty-Cat, that smurf kid with point ears that looks like a Christmas elf is Link. Zelda is the princess and he has to save her. Ain’t that neat?” he grinned, continuing his Quest to save the princess. “Can we call the shortie Sally? I mean, he looks as short as Sal, so why not? It would make things even better! And the princess can be Ash! That sounds so cute!” I hype him, making him chuckle and kiss my cheek. “You know what? That sounds pretty dope, I’m in.” he replied, but it wasn’t long before I started bugging him again. “Can I braid your hair, baby? It’s soooo beautiful and I loveeeeeeee it and I want my hair to be pretty like yours.” I turn around and put my arms on his shoulders, leaning on him, letting my hands brush through his soft hair. “You’re so clingy today, what’s with you? I thought I was the clingy one.” he let out an amused breath and putting down his controller, letting me put my legs around his waist so I could braid strands of his hair, occasionally stealing a kiss from him. “You don’t like it? I could always stop, if you want to...” I pouted, looking down, but he knew I was messing around, so he blew some air on my face. “Kat, shut up, you know I love it when you’re affectionate. Also, your hair is much prettier than mine, and this red shade is super hot. How about we play some World of Warcraft after this?” he suggested, making me nod my head vigurously. “Yeah, that’d be fun! Hey, hey, Larry Berry, can I ask you something?” I ask a bit timidly, making him raise his eyebrow in confusion, looking down at me, but I was a bit too embarrassed to look at him. “Yeah, what is it, Kitty-Cat?” he asks, putting down his controller once again and raising my face with his hands, planting a kiss on my forehead. “Would you...If something weird happened, like the cult, maybe...You know...Would you...Would you save me like Link saves Zelda?” I close my eyes in embarrassment, feeling my cheeks burning and my heart beating desperately, until I feel Larry’s soft lips on mine. “Silly, why even ask that? Don’t you already know you’re my Princess? I’ll always be here to save you, no matter what.” he hugged me tightly to his chest, making me smile in happiness, putting my hands around him, clutching on the back of his SF Tshirt. “Yeah...I know...You’re the best, Larry. I always feel safe and happy when I’m with you.” I confess tenderly, feeling at peace. “Hey, actually, I’ve an idea, but don’t take it wrong, okay? I want to do 2 things, but I don’t want to freak you out or something. Do you trust me?” he asks, looking into my eyes with a tender expression. “Of course I do. I trust you with every fiber of my being. You’re the only one who knows me for who I am and I know I can trust you to take care of me.” I reply softly, making him hide his face with his hands for a few seconds, feeling more embarrassed than me, before taking off his shirt and putting it to the side. “Will you please take off your sweater and Tshirt too? I promise I will explain. I won’t look either.” he started breathing a bit faster, biting his lip in slight anxiety.

I said nothing, instead, I nodded and took off my dark green sweater, then my Scorpions Tshirt, revealing my maroon bra. I looked down a bit shy, trying to hide my belly, that despite knowing it wasn’t big, I was still insecure of, but before I knew it, I got hugged tightly to his chest, and I could hear his heartbeat.

“Can you feel it? That’s my heart, and it’s beating for you. Ever since you came into my life, I could feel I was doing much better, despite all the shit I’ve been through. I’ve always wanted to have you safe and protected, so when I heard of what you’ve been through, I kinda lost it. I know I can get violent when someone angers me, and I can be pretty impulsive sometimes, but that will never stop the fact that I love you so much that I don’t know words to describe it. I ain’t as smart as you, but Kat, you’re amazing and I don’t deserve you. But you chose me, and I’ve never been happier ever since. And hearing you say that you trust and love me is the best thing I could hear, really.” he confessed and I could feel my hear trembling with emotion at how sweet and genuine he was being. “You have no idea how much I love you and how grateful I am that you didn’t get tired of me or something. I really love you, Larry, and I’m very happy that you’re so patient and understanding with me. I couldn’t have pulled through without you.” I reply, kissing him lightly on his lips, making him open his eyes in wonder, without realising that he said he wouldn’t, but then he got flustered, which amused me so much that I started laughing. “Here, take this. Will you spend the night over? It’s already late, mum’s not coming home tonight and it’s so cozy around here. C’mon, you know you can’t resist.” he chuckled, putting his Tshirt on me, fitting me like a dress. “You’re giving this to me for the night? Are you sure? It’s SF, your fave band.” I asked awkwardly, not sure what to say. “My favourite band and my favourite girl. It fits, right? And I’m not giving to you for the night, I’m giving it to you forever. It’s my way of saying that I trust you that much.” he grinned at me, making me hug him tightly once again, fangirling a bit. “You’re the absolute best, Larry Berry. I love you so much.” I chirped in a voice higher than my usual tone. “Okay, Strawberry Shortcake, that’s enough fluff for today. Let’s get some pizza, drink pepsi and binge some TV series.” he suggested, getting up and going to the kitchen to get the food, so I took off my pants to get comfy for the movie marathon, before jogging after him to help him carry the snacks, but I think he might have been shocked by what he was seeing ‘cause he spit out the pepsi. “What’s it, babe, like what you’re seeing?” I chuckled in amusement at his crestfallen face. “You betcha I do. You’re godamn stunning, Princess. You matchin’?” he asked in curiosity, making me laugh even harder. “With my hair? Definitely. With something else? I’ll let your curiosity guess.” I teased him, taking the snacks and going to the bedroom. “Oh, and, by the way! Let’s watch Lord Of The Rings! We’re the best Elf duo, wohoo!” I cheered, with a little skip in my movement, super excited for the movies, as I jump in bed, before I heard Larry’s deep voice saying a bit louder than he might have wished for “THEY MATCH!”

[angryhausfrau-writes]

You Can‘t Cross the Same River Twice - Chapter 20

“Boy, there's enough red, white, and blue around here to make even old Ferret Face happy.” Trapper's looking around the park with an expression somewhere between awe and contempt. “Don't remember it being quite so...” He gestures vaguely at the flag bunting and the kids waving sparklers and tiny flags.

“What, it wasn't like this last Fourth of July?” Hawkeye finds it hard to believe that America would have been less patriotic during the death throws of the Korean war.

“I didn't go anywhere near any of this shit last year – got stuck with a twenty-four hour shift in the ER.” Trapper sighs. “Between the noise from the fireworks and all the kids coming in with powder burns, I coulda been back at the front.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

The clinic has seen its fair share of kids with burnt fingers – though fortunately nothing worse. And Hawkeye hasn't had the most restful week of his life, either. The constant barrage of fireworks brings back memories of artillery shells and he keeps dreaming about Korea. Just hazy impressions of blood and khaki, but unsettling enough to make him toss and turn half the night.

Trapper nudges Hawkeye out of those thoughts with a brief press of his shoulder. “Course, you were actually over there last year, so I tried not to wallow in self pity too much. I'm sure the coffee you were drinking was way worse than the shit in the ER staff room.”

Hawkeye laughs despite himself. Feels himself relax, despite the crowds, despite the dozens of screaming children – shrieks of laughter so, so close to shrieks of terror and agony. Despite what day it is.

He isn't in Korea. No one is going to die today.

Trapper knocks gently into Hawkeye's shoulder again, clearly reading his change in mood. “It gets to be too much and you wanna go home, just lemme know. Ok?”

Hawkeye smiles, small but genuine. “Thanks, Trapper. But I'm ok, really. And Cathy would never let me live it down if I missed her softball game – I'd lose my standing as favorite uncle.”

“That's true enough, Cathy's absolutely ruthless when crossed.” Trapper grins. “She pretty much single handedly whupped St. John's Episcopal in the interfaith league cuz they wouldn't let a girl play softball.”

“She an adorable little terror. You must be so proud.” And now Hawkeye's grinning too.

By this point, they've managed to fight their way through the crowd to the metal bleachers of the baseball diamond. It's crowded here too – apparently the Fourth of July little league games are a longstanding tradition – but it's a more orderly chaos. The hordes of children are being at least somewhat corralled by their impatient parents.

Except for Becky - who comes barreling out of the ballpark and right into Trapper, managing to knock him backwards a few steps with the force of her momentum. While Trapper's still getting his wind back, she flings herself at Hawkeye in an exuberant hug. He hugs her back, a little bemused – she's not normally so affectionate.

“Thank Christ you're here!” she exclaims when she finally lets go of Hawkeye.

“Don't cuss, Becky,” Trapper admonishes her. Though he's pulled her into another, less violent hug – and it's not like he has much room to complain about bad language.

“Sorry, dad,” Becky says, not looking very sorry. “But we've been here for hours! And all mom and Rob want to do is gossip about boring stuff like who's having babies or what some lady wore to church. At least you two talk about interesting things.”

“Speaking of your ma, she know you're running around loose?”

Becky looks guiltily at the ground and Trapper sighs.

“You better lead us to 'em before Louise sends out a search party. Don't want her to think you've run off to join the circus – though your human cannon ball act is pretty good, just about bowled me over.”

“Sorry dad, Uncle Hawkeye.” This time Becky does look contrite. But she brightens up when Hawkeye and Trapper each hold out a hand for her to take. And then she's tearing off towards wherever Louise and Robert are sitting – the two of them trailing in her wake.

They come up on Louise and Robert a little ways away – though the crowds are thick enough, it takes longer than it should to reach them. Leaving plenty of time for Trapper to watch them as he approaches.

It's still kinda strange for Trapper to see Louise out on the town – especially with a guy who ain't him. But they're friendly enough with one another, if mostly focused on the girls whenever they talk. And Robert ain't a bad guy, even if Trapper finds him unbearably boring. He cares about the girls a whole hell of a lot, and that's worth sitting through him talking about bird watching or the stock market or whatever the hell it is he's talking about now. Proper barbecue technique, by the sound of it.

No wonder Becky ran off.

Even Louise looks glad to see them, her smile a little fixed as she goes to kiss first his cheek and then Hawkeye's. And she's very quick to pull Hawkeye into a conversation about her latest knitting project – apparently Cathy's interest had sparked her own and they all trade knitting patterns now. Trapper smiles as he listens to Becky describe the plot of her latest Nancy Drew novel.

It's funny that it took divorcing his wife for them to find some kinda equilibrium with each other.

And Trapper ain't glad it happened, by any means. Mostly cuz Louise deserved better from him than being a distant shadow of the man she married – and a cheater who'd bedded anyone who'd have him over in Korea. A man in love with his best friend, even if it took him a while to realize.

But he don't mourn the man he used to be. Or see much point in regretting his mistakes. What's done is done – all that matters is the here and now. And this here and this now – a clear summer day, his one daughter sitting next to him and the other waving frantically from the dugout, Hawkeye happy and laughing and here with him – is pretty damn good.

--

Cathy wins her softball game and they all go out for ice cream after. They still woulda gone if she hadn't'a won, of course, but there's a special air of celebration about it on account of the victory.

After they all mob the ice cream cart – along with about a hundred other families - they cram onto a couple of park benches. The girls are talking all in and around and over each other in their excitement. And Louise is attempting to get them to take turns talking – a lost cause in Trapper's opinion. Even Robert is smiling and cracking some pretty terrible jokes. They're loud enough, some of the people walking past are giving them the evil eye.

But Hawkeye is just sitting there. Silent. With ice cream dripping down his arm.

Covered by the loud chatter of the rest of the family, Trapper leans in and says quietly, “You ok, Hawkeye? You wanna cut this short and head home?”

“Nah, I'm fine. Just thinking.” And then Hawkeye laughs quietly. “You know something funny, Trapper? That first week back home I went out and bought knitting supplies and a gossip magazine and an ice cream cone – strawberry, like I'm eating now.”

Hawkeye pauses to lick ice cream off his wrist and Trapper has to look away.

“It felt like – like this forbidden thing, you know? To go out and buy ice cream. Ice cream! It's not like I was breaking the law or anything – I wasn't even buying booze or a nudie mag or anything questionable – but it felt like I was going to get arrested by the cops for being out without a pass, you know? For daring to buy an ice cream cone without orders.”

Trapper nods.

For all that the army was s'posed to bring freedom to Korea, it was pretty damn thin on the ground – for soldiers and civilians. It had taken him a while to get used to the lack of military restrictions when he got back home, too. A while to get used to feeling like a real person again, able to make decisions for himself, able to set his own schedule.

“I had to remind myself that I was a grown adult,” Hawkeye continues, “capable of running errands on my own – going where I wanted when I wanted, without written permission or a curfew.”

Trapper nods again. “It's funny what a guy can get used to, I guess. What starts to feel normal.” He grins wryly. “Not that you've ever given two shits about being normal.”

Hawkeye laughs. “True enough.” And then he bites into his ice cream cone.

--

They get invited over to Louise and Robert's house in the suburbs for a Fourth of July barbecue. And the girls are so excited to show their dad and Uncle Hawkeye their rooms and toys and neighborhood haunts that they can't really refuse. So Hawkeye finds himself standing on Robert's meticulously manicured lawn, chatting with a slew of pastel-clad, pearl-wearing housewives while their husbands congregate around the grill to talk about cars and vacations to the Grand Canyon and other boring things. Trapper, meanwhile, has practically disappeared in a pile of roughhousing kids – occasionally breaking free, only to be pulled back under by the teaming mass. And Louise flutters at the edge of Hawkeye's little entourage – pouring drinks and setting out side dishes.

Hawkeye had offered to help – he and Trapper both had – but she'd said they were guests and ought to take it easy. Hawkeye doesn't know that he feels easy, exactly, in this world of matching bungalows and matching skirt sets but he does his best to relax.

It had helped when the women had gathered around him and started gossiping. All he'd had to do was listen and ask leading questions and he could be almost totally silent without looking bored or inattentive – a trick he'd learned on the boat home, back when he didn't really talk all that much. Back when he felt like he didn't have anything to say that was really him talking.

He doesn't feel that way anymore, but it's still a relief when they all sit down to eat and he can rejoin Trapper. Talk about something other than church functions, PTA meetings, and children's play dates. Even if they're sitting at the kiddie table and his time is mostly spent trying to keep the kids from putting potato salad in each others' hair.

It helps settle something in him to be able to see the kids alive and happy and alive. Helps drive home that he isn't in Korea and today isn't going to end like it did last year. And it helps that Trapper is sitting next to him, pressed against him, real and solid and here.

Trapper presses closer to Hawkeye under the pretense of the table being crowded. And there are a whole lotta kids crammed onto one picnic bench. But more than that, Trapper needs the comfort and familiarity of Hawkeye next to him.

Cuz it's strange, being here at Louise's house. Seeing her and the kids having a life here. Seeing them have a life here with Robert and without him.

Don't get him wrong, it's not any kinda life Trapper'd want to live. He ain't jealous or nothing. But it's strange, being here with the people he used to be so close to - but as an outsider to their lives.

At least Louise seems happy here - with her nice big house and her nice boring husband and her nice gossipy neighbors. Trapper's glad Louise is living the kinda life she wants – the kinda life she'd grown up with, grown up wanting. Glad she can have the kinda life he hadn't been able to have with her.

But he's really fucking glad when the night is over and he can go back home to his own life with Hawkeye.

[lemonadetyler]

peter finds out you’re a villain

request: Head cannon on you being Peters nice, shy girlfriend but secretly you being an anti hero and Peter goes to where you are and seeing you in dark, tight spandex makes him very flustered ;)

pairing: peter parker / spiderman x reader

type: headcanon / smut

a/n: i adjusted the ask a lil bit, instead of villain / anti hero i went with vigilante. i hope that’s okay! send me an ask to join the tag list below!!

“bye, babe.” peter kisses you as he leaves your apartment after riding the train over to brooklyn with you like the sweetheart he is

“see you tomorrow?” you ask all wide eyed and cute like u be

“ofc, darling” he told u

he was always so worried about you

& you can totally handle yourself. you can do a lot more damage than that but if peter knew the truth, he would be crushed & what homeboy don’t know can’t hurt him

so peter leaves & you go into your room

sweater off

leggings gone

scarf deceased

your cute lil usual fit is on the floor

shy & sweet u gone

bad bitch u is here

your sexy ass has squeezed into your suit

u look fuckin good, feelin yourself

but u already knew that

do u cause a lil trouble when you go out? sure, but it’s so much fun

so ur out ur window and hopping rooftop to rooftop like the badass u be

u were kind of like a modern day robin hood but more violent and less predictable

out here avenging the world’s wrongs w/ some fun for yourself on the side

what shall it be tonight? u robbed some wealthy asshole last week. tomorrow ur busy sneaking into a prison & going all mercenary on some dumbass

u were absolutely awful, but only to the people who deserved it most

“god i am so in the mood for torture right now.” u say to yourself

so u do some scouting

tired retail worker = a bad target

lost girl at night was equally uninteresting

man following lost girl? now that could be interesting.

so u watch & wait

but all my ladies out there know damn well what’s about to go down

and yeah, shit hit the fan

but yall coulda guessed that

this dirty vacuum bag really tries to get with this girl, she wasn’t having it, he decides that fucking rape is next on today’s agenda

so u swoop in

see, ur not abnormally strong or powerful

but u have two things that these fuckers out don’t: 1. the element of surprise and 2. a really, really cool bat who you have affectionately named “bubbles”

its cute

anyways, back to the ass whooping you dishing out

so you might have broke into a police car last night

stole some handcuffs

but youre gonna give them back!!

just not at the moment

you handcuff this lil bitch to a bike rack

take the girl into a restaurant

make shes okay and get her a ride home

okay back to this fucker

he’s huffing and puffing like he finna blow this bitch down

like really

get a grip

so you uncuff him

and this man takes off

“i hate the runners” you say

gotta chase after this dude now

finally you catch up to him

knock him down with bubbles the bat

“dude, i just wanna talk” you tell him as he lays on the ground

“really?” he looks at u like he bouta cry

“lmao no.” you laugh and hit him with bubbles again

dumb bitch

but THEN

you’re knocked on ur ass by someone

you start to look up to see who it was

your vision is a lil blurry but u can kinda make out a figure

“is that fuckin spiderman”

“that’s gonna hurt tomorrow, miss.” he tells you

“i’d go home and ice it.” IS SPIDERMAN REALLY TELLING U TO PACK UR SHIT AND GO HOME RIGHT NOW??

“fuck i wish i had superpowers” you mumble to yourself

you can’t really compete with spiderman

gonna have to talk your way outta this one

“hello, mr. man?” you say all cute like “Imma need you to hand me that man back.” you finish

“no can do.” spiderman tells you

“i really don’t think the spiderman brand should be supporting attempted rapists” GET FUCKED BUG BOY

“did he?” spiderman looks at the man on his arm

“sure did.” you clarify

“i still I don’t think I can condone you beating him like you were.” spiderman tells you

“i’m simply doing god’s work” you say, trying not to laugh

“god’s work.” spiderman looks at you straight faced, unimpressed

now you begin to approach spiderman

“what are you doing in brooklyn tonight, spiderman?” you say SEDUCTIVELY LIKE YES GIRL

“just passing through” spiderman says

“well,” you bite your lip (agh!!!!) “maybe next time you should stick to queens.”

WHO NEEDS THE ICE NOW, SPIDERMAN?

“who are you?” spiderman asks you, genuinely perplexed

“it wouldn’t be as fun if I told you, would it?” you answer.

you grab the man out of spiderman’s hands, walking away, confident as hell

spiderman grabs you by your hips and turns you around

“you sound so familiar” he tells you

like can you fuck off

“not gonna like, i thought you’d be cooler” you respond

the almost rapist takes the opportunity to run away so that’s great

and spiderman just doesn’t care

“what the actual fuck man??” you say “i’m not running after that dumbass again.”

in the midst of your ranting, spiderman rips your fucking mask off

like IS THAT EVEN ALLOWED

“i knew there was no way you weren’t mine”

WHAT

THE

FUCK

before u can even register what has happened, he rips his mask off

“surprise!” your BOYFRIEND PETER shouts, NOT SPIDERMAN

“what?” you say in shock

“you were so confident and out there.” peter says in awe. “it was awesome. i didn’t know you could be so… dangerous.” he says after finding the right word.

“what are you gonna do about it?”

so peter kisses you

but like, aggressively

pushes you up against a wall

“you should wear this more often” he tell you

“you like it?” you ask

“like it? im gonna fuck you in it.”

ur pussy might as well be a super soaker bc that bitch is drenched

peter rips your suit open

“you got more of these?”

“yeah but maybe we fuck in this one from now on”

he’s got your nipple in his mouth

hands down your pants

you might just come right then and there

but peter’s suit is equally tight

and he’s been hard since he first knocked you down

WHICH, BY THE WAY, HE DIDN’T KNOW TO BE YOU AT THE TIME SO YALL DEFINITELY NEED TO TALK ABOUT THAT

“stop teasing me” you breathe out

slowly, which is basically still teasing, peter slides inside of you

moving in & out of u, his cock coated in your juices

“harder, peter.” you beg as he tentatively hits your clit with each move

THIS TIME, FINALLY HE DOESN’T HOLD BACK

boy goes to work

slamming in & out of you

“fuck, daddy, right there.”

also, peter didn’t know about your daddy kink until right now so i guess this is confession night

but he totally digs it

he grabs onto your hips tighter than ever before

sliding you on and off his dick as your back is to the wall

your legs are wrapped around his hips

you’re literally getting fucked hard in an alleyway at midnight by the spiderman

who would’ve thunk it

you both come

, hard

yall compose yourselves

“we have so much to talk about tomorrow.” peter tells you

“you’re spiderman.” you say, it still hasn’t hit you quite yet

“and you’re a vigilante with a daddy kink.”

“touche, parker.”

tag list: @smilexcaptainx @just-an-average-nerd @mstoomanynames @bcndevik @asadmarveltrashbag @bookgirlunicorn @spiderlingsweb @peterlikescats @i-alyssa

[saventhhaven]

The Time of My Life

Word Count: 1,504

Tags: Valentine’s Day, Dirty Dancing, movies, cute

Word Count: 1,504

"Yes, yes, yes!" Dean's voice echoed down the hallways. You looked up at Sam uneasily, who was sitting across from you at the kitchen table.

"Oh God," you sighed, holding your finger to the place you left off in your book. "What now?" Sam replied with a shrug, slight creases appearing in his forehead as he raised his eyebrows. The sound of steel-toed boots against the wooden floors made its way to both you and Sam as Dean sauntered into the kitchen. 

"Yes," he repeated, grinning cockily. Dean Winchester was a man of many talents, one of which was the ability to be overly theatrical about almost anything. Pushing your hair to the side, you propped your feet up on the kitchen table, Sam making a distasteful face at you.

"Well, are you gonna tell us why you're so excited, or are you just planning on standing there and grinning like a moron all night?" you snarked. Sam snorted, pretending to be interested in his own book. Dean chuckled and shook his head.

"Sorry, Y/N," he replied. "Not even you being an asshole can ruin my mood right now." If you weren't intrigued before, you definitely were now. Irritating the shit out of Dean was one of your specialties, and not being able to do so bothered you far more than it should have.

"All right, I'll bite. What's got you so..." you waved your hand at him in a vague nature. "Riled up?" Dean's eyes shone with excitement again, and for a second, you were afraid you were going to regret asking. He snapped his fingers and then proceeded to point at you.

"It's Valentine's Day." You frowned as you picked up your phone to check the date.

"Is it really?" Sam asked. Sure enough, just under where your lock screen told you the time, the date read February 14, 2019.

"Huh," you mused, setting the device back down on the table. "Sure is. I didn't even realize. Guess time got away from me this year." You turned your attention back to Dean and snickered. He was almost vibrating with excitement. "So, I'm assuming you have plans?" Dean grinned even wider if that was even possible. He sat down next to you on the table's bench, wrapping his arm around your shoulders.

"Every year on February 14, the single ladies go to bars and drown their sorrows in alcohol, waiting for their Mr. Right to come walking in through the doors." Dean patted his chest confidently. "That's where I come in." Sam rolled his eyes, thoroughly disinterested.

"Mr. Right, my ass," he muttered. Dean stood from his spot and gave you a couple pats on the shoulder.

"Joke all you want, Sammy. At least I'm getting laid tonight." You couldn't help but let out a bark of laughter at that, earning a bitch face from Sam. Holding back a string of giggles, you placed your book on the table.

"Hey, if it makes you feel any better, I'm not getting laid tonight either." Sam shook his head slowly.

"Is it weird that that does make me feel a little better?" Dean held his hands up as amusement swam in his eyes.

"I ain't judging. Whatever you two gotta tell yourselves." He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the wall. "What about you, Y/N? Any Valentine's Day traditions?" Bored by the turn in the conversation, you picked up your book and continued where you left off.

"Nope," you replied, shaking your head. "I've always kinda thought Valentine's Day is more a commercial holiday than anything. Dean scoffed at you.

"Oh, come on, what?"

"I'm just saying," you defended. Pausing for a moment, Dean scrutinized you.

"You're telling me you've never celebrated Valentine's Day?"

"Nope," you said again.

"Not even a school dance? Or a one night stand?" You gave Dean a look as you closed your book again.

"Okay, one: no. And two: not all of us are as open about our sexual experiences as you are so if you wanna... not?" Sam snickered behind his book from across the table. You pointed your finger at him. "Shut up."

"Come on, Y/N," Dean continued. "Don't be such a buzzkill. It's just-" You held up a hand to stop him.

"Dean, do you really wanna know why I don't celebrate Valentine's Day?" You hated to drop something so heavy like this, but you knew otherwise the teasing wasn't going to stop. "Because I hate Valentine's Day. Every single year it's a constant reminder that I never get to get married. I don't get to settle down and have kids. I know how my story ends. It ends bloody and violent. And that's something I would never want my kids to have to see." When you looked over at Sam, he was looking at you with intense sympathy, his book now forgotten entirely.

"Y/N, I..." You sighed lightly as Dean trailed off. You really shouldn't have said that. Standing from your spot, you shook your head.

"I'm fine," you insisted. "I just... Need a minute." The only sound that could be heard as you made your way out of the kitchen was the slow ticking of the clock on the wall. Other than that, it was dead quiet. You felt guilty for saying that to them. You were just telling them the information they already knew. It's not like you were the only one who wouldn't get to settle down. Sam and Dean probably thought about that all the time, and here you were complaining about it. You didn't bother to turn on the light as you went into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Flopping onto the mattress, you burrowed your face in the pillows and let out a loud, frustrated groan.

It had been close to an hour when someone had finally knocked on your door. Feeling sheepish, you opened it a crack, seeing Sam standing in the hallway.

"Yeah?" you asked quietly, not meeting his eyes. He pushed the door open a bit more and held his arm out to you.

"C'mon." This got your attention. You looked up at him, expression laced with confusion.

"I really don't feel like going anywhere right now. I'm sorry, but-"

"Just..." Sam interrupted. He jerked his head backward, a signal he wanted you to come with him. "Trust me." You sighed silently and nodded, leaving the dark room behind you.

"I'm really sorry about earlier," you finally said.

"Hey," he replied, effectively stopping you from finishing the rest of your apology. "Don't worry about it, all right? I totally get it. Dean and I aren't mad at you. You just had us a little worried there, is all." You gave Sam a sympathetic smile.

"I'm better now," you reassured. Sam returned your smile, although his was much more heartfelt.

"Well, that's good, because Dean and I have something planned for you." You looked up at him again, but before you could ask him what he was talking about, he opened a door at the end of the hallway, holding it open for you. Dean stood a few steps inside the room, giving you a broad smile.

"Welcome to the fortress of Dean-a-tude," he greeted. You immediately snorted.

"'The fortress of Dean-a-tude?' Real creative," you teased. A familiar scent was in the air, and you inhaled deeply.

"Do I smell popcorn?" Dean revealed a large bowl full of buttered popcorn from behind his back, handing it to you.

"Damn straight."

"Dean and I are your Valentine's date for the evening. If that's okay with you," Sam hastened to add. You set the bowl of popcorn down on a nearby table and wrapped your arms around both of them.

"Thank you," you whispered. Dean ruffled your hair affectionately as Sam pressed a kiss to the top of your head. You glanced over at the TV, where the Dirty Dancing title was flashing across the screen. "No way," you mused. "Which one of you picked Dirty Dancing?" The two boys instantly both pointed at each other, earning a laugh from you.

"All right, it was me," Dean admitted. "I have no shame. I know it's one of your favorites." You gave Dean another hug.

"This is perfect. In fact, I think we should make this a new tradition." Sam chuckled.

"I wouldn't mind that," he replied. Grinning, you picked up the bowl of popcorn again and flopped into one of the chairs in front of the TV.

"Come on boys." You patted the other chair next to you. "We've got a movie to watch." Sam and Dean both made their way over to you, Dean taking the chair, meaning Sam had to sit on the floor. You laughed at the way he scowled at his older brother but said nothing. Just as the opening credits finished, Dean checked his watch.

"You think it'll be too late to swing by the bar after the movie?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"Dean, really?"

"I was just asking!"

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