#just need the main show to tell me where i get to pick them up from so i can make it more than an outline outline

[welcometothejianghu]

Welcome to another round of W2 Tells You What You Should See, where W2 (me) tries to sell you (you) on something you should be watching. Today's choice: 重啟之極海聽雷/Reunion: The Sound of the Providence/The Lost Tomb Reboot/this thing has too many names

Reunion (I'm just going to call it that) is a 2020 action drama about the most specialest little babygirl in the tomb-raiding world, his two husbands, and the cadre of assorted weirdos they pick up as they try to follow a set of directions left by a dead (?) man in the thunder.

Imagine if someone showed you the Mandalorian, and you were like, gee, that was a neat little sci-fi one-shot! because you'd never heard of Star Wars. That was basically my experience watching this show, having no idea that the Lost Tomb franchise (DMBJ) was even a thing. Turns out that not only is there a whole big continuity out there with these characters, but that Reunion takes place a few years after the main story's resolution. Don't worry, though -- Reunion doesn't spoil you for that resolution. It doesn't spoil you for much, period. Look, DMBJ has a weird relationship to endings, okay?

I have written a more thorough where-to-start guide for DMBJ as a whole, so if you want to consider other entry points, well, that information is there for your consideration. Yet it is my opinion that this is the best entry into the overall franchise, and a fun thing to watch just in general, and I'm here to make my case for both of those.

The rest of this rec will assume that you have no familiarity with the DMBJ series. That's okay; you don't need any. All you need is to trust my five reasons you should watch this.

1. Old Man Yaoi

As you begin this show, you are introduced to the Iron Triangle. That's them in the picture up there. Left to right, you have: Xiao Ge, magically tattooed immortal hottie who just got back from ten years in [scene missing]; Wu Xie, our protagonist, who's just a little guy and it's his birthday; and Wang Pangzi, the literal best.

(And yes, Wu Xie is in his 30s and Pangzi is in his 40s, which is not technically old man anything, but ... look, if you watch, you'll see why I think I'm justified in calling it that.)

They are extremely married. They are a disaster trio of disasters so disastrous that no one else should ever be subjected to their chaos. They're going to make sure lots of people are, though, don't you worry about it. Sometimes those people even deserve it.

However, because the show (tragically!!) decides that Xiao Ge has somewhere else to be like 95% of the runtime, most of the relationship you get to see is between Wu Xie and Pangzi.

I'm saying this now as an old gay nerd who just this year celebrated her 15th wedding anniversary: I have never, never felt so represented in media as I have watching Wu Xie and Pangzi interact. There's a little wake-up song they sing together near the end of the show, and it just ... it packs so much character development into thirty seconds. These boys have been living adjacent lives for so long that they've made up their own little shared songs about the mundanities of daily living. That is just what happens when you marry your best friend and then decide to get old and weird together. Ask me how I know.

Look, if you want to know whether this show is for you or not, watch to the end of the first episode, to the part where Pangzi flips over the table. If your heart is filled with joy (as it should be), keep going.

Love makes a tomb-raiding syndicate family.

2. A fun-filled action-packed romp of nonsense!

If you're familiar with Hellblazer canon, this will make sense to you: Reunion is Dangerous Habits. If you're not familiar with Hellblazer canon, try it like this: Reunion is a terrible place to start because it plays on your extant affection for a character who gains a terrible status effect almost immediately. It's a also great place to start because it throws you right in the action with measurably high stakes and gives you a reason to build that affection very quickly.

I'm also going to warn you right off the bat: The plot of this show got cut to ribbons by censors.

See, the DMBJ books, being books, are allowed to get away with supernatural shit! So you've got zombies and ghosts and curses and monsters and immortality and all your other standard ooky spooky semi-urban fantasy trappings. But the DMBJ adaptations, being live-action, are heavily regulated in their content. This is why, in the early Reunion episodes, our heroes are menaced by human-looking creatures that are actually ancient mannequins made of leather that are piloted, mecha-style, by evil clams. Because evil clams are more scientific than zombies. I guess.

So yeah, the plot of this book already had to get mangled into a more "science"-compliant shape even before it made it to filming. The real problem is that a whole lot more of it got cut after it was all filmed and put together. I have read an explanation of what the actual storyline was supposed to be, and yeah, if you know what you’re looking at, you can see (and hear) the scars where major elements got hacked out with a weed whacker.

Therefore: You cannot expect this plot to make sense.

But that's okay! You're not here for the plot to make sense! You're here to watch some characters you love run around through ridiculous and sometimes beautiful labyrinths, trying to solve puzzles you're never given enough information to understand, all in search of the resolution to a mystery that had half its guts torn out before you got to see it -- and you are here to love it. If you have ever laughed and cheered your way through a Mission: Impossible film without pausing to care too much about the plot holes it’s dodging left and right, you are in the correct frame of mind to appreciate this. Just believe that whatever engaging nonsense the show tells you is correct for the time being and go with it.

You cannot watch DMBJ and care about the laws of physics. You simply cannot.

Do not, however, let me give you the impression that the shoddy plotting is accompanied by equally shoddy performances. A major part of this show’s incredible watchability comes from how the cast is shockingly good. There are some serious heavy hitters among the actors. A major part of why this Wu Xie and Pangzi are my favorite together is the incredible chops both Zhu Yilong and Chen Minghao have, to say nothing of their real-life affection for one another. (See that scar on Wu Xie's neck? That scar is there because Zhu Yilong commits to the bit.) Effortlessly charming Mao Xiaotong turns potentially irritating wunderkind Bai Haotian into a perfect precious weirdo baby. Wu Erbai's entire second-season character arc could have been unintentionally comedic, but veteran of queer cinema Hu Jun sells even the undignified moments as relentlessly tragic. And of course Baron Chen absolutely kills it with...

3. This giant fucking loser

This is Hei Xiazi. That's not his name, but it's close enough. Allow me to do a dramatic reenactment of my watching his first scene:

[camera pans over to him]

me: Ugh, I recognize this kind of wannabe badass character design. I hate his type. He's self-important, hyper-masculine, and just a big jerk, and the show thinks he's soooo cool. Barf.

[thirty seconds later]

me: Oh no. I was so wrong. I love him forever now.

This is because he is (as indicated above) a giant fucking loser. Yes, he's a good fighter who knows lots of things. He's also a wet potato chip of a man. Sure, he can get you into a headlock, but he can also annoy you into submission, and that's honestly more fun for him. My wife has used the phrase “Vash the Stampede-coded” to describe him. My wife is not wrong.

And the kind of ridiculous thing is, being such a loser is what wraps back around to making him cool again. He's a loser because he just doesn't fucking care. His masculinity is the opposite of fragile. You tell him to wear a dress and makeup, he'll do it -- and sure, he'll complain, but only because he enjoys complaining. He has no dignity. He’s tits-out. He's gender. He's the worst and also the best.

Hei Xiazi is a major character in the other installations, to the point where he and his boyfriend (more on him later) even have their own movie. But of course, I did not know this on my first watch, so I kept expecting the show to explain his whole deal. It does not, but you don't really need it to. He sees better in the dark. He doesn't age. He's a thug for hire. There, that's all the bio you need.

One of the things that makes him great is that he is the least sexually threatening person ever. Across all the properties he's in, he spends a fair amount of time with women -- sometimes in very close quarters -- and they are perfectly safe around him. I actually wrote a whole post about it once upon a time (warning for tiny spoilers for a series that isn't this one) wherein I claim that not only Xiazi but Reunion in general is the television equivalent of the shirt that says I RESPECT WOMEN SO MUCH I DON'T HAVE SEX WITH THEM.

That said, this loser does get a sort-of romance plot here -- and honestly, I find it very cute! It's not even the only instance in this series of a bisexual guy in a long-term same-sex relationship getting a girlfriend, and I like that other one too! Look, the handle of my DMBJ sideblog is @katamaricule because I joked that Wu Xie treats polyamory like a katamari, and if you don't move fast enough, you're going to be rolled right up into his gay little cuddle puddle.

This is not a show for exclusive ships; this is a show for inclusive ships. The Jiumen Association is a polycule. You don't even have to know what the Jiumen Association is to know it's true.

4. The power of friendship

This show has a lot of characters.

I'd say the supporting cast is divided into three categories: characters who have been in previous installments, characters who have not been in previous installments, and characters who probably should have been in previous installments (or at least mentioned) but who were only created for Reunion so we have to pretend like we've known about them all along.

There is no way to tell which is which -- which is part of my argument that this series makes a good entry point to the franchise.

Take Huo Daofu. Huo Daofu is a brilliant doctor masquerading as a donut stand operator who treats Wu Xie with all the cold disdain of a man confronting the person who left him at the altar years ago. On the one hand, yes! We do know Huo Daofu from a previous series, and we've known he's both a doctor and a bitch. On the other hand, oh, we have no idea why he's like this about Wu Xie, and we probably never will. The show just treats it like it's for an excellent reason, and you know what, from what you know about Wu Xie, it probably is.

Consider also Jiang Zisuan. One of the show's principal antagonists, Jiang Zisuan turns out to be the brother of ... well, let's just say it's someone whose having a brother really should have come up before this. It has not come up. (And that's even before we get into the issue of his surname.) His stated identity as that person's brother is so bizarre that my favorite interpretation is that he isn't actually that person's brother -- all the flashbacks we see are just his delusions about a relationship he's completely invented. But there's no way you'd know how fucking weird this is on your first run.

Then there's our friendly little support himbo, Kanjian, who shows up to all occasions with two tickets to the gun show and not a thought in that beautiful head. (His name just means "vest," which is par for the course when it comes to the author's naming conventions.) He was a lot more menacing in the last series (where they kept putting sleeves on him, geez), where most of what we learned about him is that you can loan him out to other tomb-raiding families. Now he's a golden retriever with great aim and a slingshot. It's an upgrade.

The trick is, you cannot be surprised when someone shows up and the show treats them like you should know who they are, even when there's no possible way you could know who they are. I mean, for heaven's sake, Liu Sang arrives in the middle of an obvious beef with Pangzi, the origins of which are never satisfactorily explained, while also having a giant do-I-want-to-fuck-him-or-do-I-want-to-be-him crush on Xiao Ge, which is also never satisfactorily explained. Whatever, you just roll with it. He's got good hearing, a bad attitude, and questionable taste in idols. Now you're good to go.

(I should throw in a special note here that Liu Sang is many, many people's little meow meow, and not undeservedly. For a fuller explanation of why that is, please consult this other post I made.)

Part of the fun of this big cast is the adorable interactions you get. All the characters have appropriately big personalities, and the show loves letting people you wouldn’t expect bounce off one another. It’s not your typical action-hero show where nothing happens without the protagonist in the room. There are lots of exciting combinations and tons of charming dynamics! Unlikely friendships form all over the place! Enemies become allies! Allies become friends! Friends become friends with other friends! Some friends become enemies again! You'll need a scoreboard to keep up!

This is not to say the show treats all its characters perfectly or equally -- one of the precious few main female characters doesn't even get a real name, for heaven's sake, and the less said about the brownface racism, the better. It is, at its heart, a dude show for dudes made in China, with all the troubling decision-making that implies. Where it does deserve credit, though, is in understanding that its supporting characters are actual people with personalities apart from their function in Wu Xie's narrative. Sometimes the show just asks "what if [random character A] and [random character B] had to interact?" and has fun considering the answer! Which is almost always a delight to watch, and sometimes even breaks your heart.

5. Amazing rewatch value!

And by this I mean the experience of watching this show is remarkably different once you have any understanding of the rest of the DMBJ universe.

For instance, there's a point where two characters are scuba-diving past some submerged coffins, and one character tells the other whose coffins they are. Working only on information Reunion has given you, you're like, oh, that's where they buried the guy who built this creepy place, that's a little weird. Once you recognize that name from other series, though, your reaction is far more, excuse me, they did WHAT to WHOSE corpses?

Or another point where a character you've already met is on a train, and there's a handsome gentleman who just happens to be riding with her. He hands her his business card! Aw, that's sweet, he seems like a nice guy! Well, no, Xie Yuchen is not nice, but he is one of our allies, and he's Hei Xiazi's boyfriend, and a lot of what he's doing hits real different when you have a fuller grasp on why he's doing it and for whom. (Honestly, a major reason to watch Reunion first is so you're not fully and appropriately upset by how your black/pink gays merely have one teeny tiny scene together.)

From the way the series treats the persistent absence of Wu Sanxing, Wu Xie's third uncle, I absolutely, 100% assumed that he was a completely new character to this installment of the series, an extremely long-lost relative that we've somehow conveniently managed to never talk about before now. So imagine my gobsmacked surprise when I went to watch a different series, set much earlier in the timeline, where the opening scene prominently features Wu Sanxing as an actual character in the present-day narrative! ...Well, sorta. Look, there's a lot of fuckery with his identity in earlier parts of the story, and fortunately you need to know none of it to understand Reunion. But when you do, it suddenly makes a lot more sense why Wu Xie talks about someone who was a major part of Wu Xie's adult life like he died when Wu Xie was nine.

AND THE FLASHBACK SCENE WHERE A-NING GETS KILLED BY THE SNAKE, AND YOU'RE LIKE, OKAY, AND THEN YOU WATCH ULTIMATE NOTE AND IT WASN'T LIKE THAT AT ALL look, I know there are kinda reasons for this, different production companies and all, but seriously, what the fuck

All of which to say is that the experience of watching Reunion the first time is, hey, this self-contained romp is a lot of fun! The experience of rewatching it after watching any of the other DMBJ installments is a transcendently wonderful head-clutching avalanche of one moment of recognition right after another.

And here's the thing: You will watch more. Reunion is a gateway drug. If you are interested enough to make it through all 62 episodes, you're going to be interested in watching more. Which is great. The English-speaking fandom needs more people. Come down into the tombs. It's great down here. We've got snakes and arguably unintentional homoeroticism. Join us. Join usssssssss

Are you ready for an aventure?

There are a couple different ways to watch the first half, but there's (weirdly) only one way to watch the second, so for both of them, I'm going to send you straight to iQiyi: Season 1 (32 episodes) and Season 2 (30 episodes).

And just so you’re ready when Reunion is done, here’s how you find the rest of the DMBJ series, in the absolutely non-chronological order in which I, personally, think you should watch them:

The Lost Tomb 2 (AsianCrush, YouTube)

Ultimate Note (iQiyi)

The Mystic Nine (iQiyi, Viki)

Sand Sea/Tomb of the Sea (Viki, WeTV, YouTube, also YouTube)

Also, there's a lot of movies and side series and other pieces that are worth seeing, and even a couple of full series I've left off the list, and you can just slot them in wherever. And maybe we'll get Tibetan Sea Flower someday? Look, hope springs eternal.

They're so perfect. Perfect triangle. Perfect boys.

[archivesainz]

in that summer ˚✧ ₊˚ 🌊 sv5

. . . Sebastian and Y/n go on a vacation with the kids, but they're not together. Something goes to change. .

genre: sebastian dad! pregnancy mention, smut, creampie, ex husband and ex wife.

pairing: sebastian vettel x y/n (reader she/her)

a/n: english is NOT my first language, so if have any errors please tell me.

The 6-year-old boy let out a hot laugh every time his father picked him up and threw him in the air, leaving him on the floor again and running after him next.

- "Dad will get you!" - Sebastian said aloud as he ran after his son, not to mention the laugh when he stumbled and fell with his ass to the floor, releasing a childish laugh.

Sebastian ran quickly to the boy checking to see if he was okay. Isaac smiled at his father, showing his beautiful dimples along with his perfect blue eyes, matching his little blonde hair with a messy bangs, a copy of Sebastian.

- "How are you, big boy?" - Sebastian asked the little boy, getting up and taking him on his lap quickly, fixing his little blouse with a drawing of some fishes in front.

- "Yes, dad, I'm fine." - Isaac answered him, getting a kiss on the chubby cheek. His little hands holding Sebastian' black shirt as they went to the kitchen.

It was a vacation and there was the Vettel family, it had only been a few weeks since they were in a very quiet and familiar resort where everyone had a lot of fun - especially the children - and relaxed from months of work and daily stresses.

But there was a catch. Sebastian and Y/n were not together. Yes, the couple decided to make that trip for the children. They knew how much they wanted and needed a moment with the whole family together. So they talked and decided to travel.

Things weren't exactly good between the two. It was hard to hear the children repeatedly asking if "Dad will go back to live with us, mom?" Or "Daddy, are you going to go back to live at home?" Anyway... they were just children who wanted to see their parents together again.

Sebastian and Y/n had broken up about 4 years ago, when the couple's youngest daughter was born. To tell you the truth, they weren't exactly together when the girl was close to being born, but they still lived together.

There was no way to explain specifically what happened for the two to separate. There were many reasons, and the main one was the routine. Sebastian worked too much, always very tired and when he got home the rest of his energy was spent by his eldest son, at the time still a baby.

Y/n also worked, but spent most of her time taking care of her son, not that she didn't like it, she loved to take care of her little boy. The problem is that she was very overwhelmed and this generated fights and more fights between the couple.

So after many nights of discussions and reconciliations with raw and dirty sexes, Ivy was born. Well, many things happened after that, and after a while Y/n couldn't stand that tense and heavy atmosphere that stayed at home anymore, and she couldn't handle all that being pregnant and having to take care of a child.

They separated and Sebastian left home. Leaving Y/n shaken. However, Sebastian never moved away from his children, he always came back to see them and whenever he had time he went out with the children. Ivy stayed more with her mother, of course, because she was very young. But Sebastian didn't stop her from nusting and giving her all her love and affection.

- "I want mom.." - Isaac grumbled on Sebastian's lap, when he entered the kitchen seeing Y/n sitting at the table while feeding Ivy. She looked at herself over her shoulder, that look that Sebastian knew very well.

Sebastian put his son on the floor watching him walk to his mother, who ran her hand on his straight hair, asking him softly if he was okay.

- "Did you fall love, did you get hurt?" - Y/n asked carefully.

- "Fall but Dad caught me, I'm fine mom." - He replied looking at the little sister who had her right little hand on her curly hair while the other leaned on her mother's chest while drinking her vitamin in her moana's cup.

Ivy was born full of health and joy. The little girl had a lot of energy and was the princess of her parents. The brown hair full of curls, the big and green eyes like the mother's, and the full mouth that also pulled the mother. The only thing that reminded her father was her little nose and eyebrows. And she also had no dimples, unlike her brother.

- "I want water." - Isaac asked while rubbing his face in his mother's hot hand, liking the affection he received.

- "Ask your father love, I'm feeding your sister now."

The little boy nodded walking to his father again who was leaning against the kitchen countertop, his blue eyes staring with affection Y/n feeding Ivy.

Isaac came close to his father touching his legs and having his eyes on himself next.

- "Water daddy." - Sebastian waved taking his son's spider man's glass in the closet and putting water then, giving the boy's little hands watching him drink. He handed the glass to his father when he drank everything and ran back to the living room to play with his various toys.

Sebastian approached Y/n, seeing when she put her sleepy daughter on her lap while wiping the little girl's mouth with a cloth.

- "Tell me soon, I know you're dying to complain." - Sebastian started crossing his arms under his chest, leaning against the wall.

- "These jokes of yours will end up hurting Isaac. I already told you that." - Y/n complained, the irritation was palpable in her voice.

- "It won't hurt, he just fell Y/n, children fall.. and he's growing up too, a lot of energy."- He said watching her walk through the kitchen.

- You know, Sebastian. - Y/n said rolling her eyes, going towards the living room.

Sebastian snorted by running his hands through his hair, he was angry and all he wanted was for things to be as before, he missed Y/n, he missed being a family with her, with the children.

He expected things to change on that trip.

(...)

- "Where do you think you're going like this?" - That's what Sebastian asked when he saw Y/n get out of the bathroom. He was sitting on the couple's bed - Sebastian did not sleep there to tell the truth - while watching the two children playing on top of her, when Y/n came out only in a bikini and short beach shorts.

- "I'm going to sunbathe in the pool, take care of the children for me?" - She asked not looking very interested in giving satisfaction to her ex-husband.

- "Y/n." - Sebastian got up, leaving the pillows near his children so they wouldn't fall out of bed, and walked to Y/n, who took her eyes off her cell phone staring at him - "You won't go out like that alone, if you're going out we'll all go together."- He said, jealousy burning inside your body.

Y/n frowned, observing Sebastian' angry and jealous face. She knew him so well. She approached her ex-husband seeing when he looked down at her breasts.

- "You don't decide whether or not I go out alone Sebastian, and no, we're not all going out together. I need some time for myself." - She said slightly irritated by Sebastian' jealous attitude.

- "Look at this.." - Sebastian said looking at Y/n's big tits - Everyone will look at you, and you know very well that I hate it Y/n.

- "But it's really to look at, I'm single." - She said debauched, but swallowed it dry when Sebastian locked her jaw.

- "Fuck you're annoying me." - He said turning his face to his children who were playing, not caring about the parents arguing there - "Please.. let's all go together, yes?" - He asked, watching Y/n roll his eyes.

- "No, I'm going alone. Take care of the children, I won't be long." - She walked away from Sebastian going towards her children, saying goodbye with kisses and smells.

Before Y/n left the room, Sebastian went after her, stoping her at the door. Y/n snorted angry, but loving to see Sebastian dying of jealousy and running after him like a domestic puppy.

- "What is it Sebastian" - She asked without patience.

- "Just be careful, okay?" - He said running his hand through Y/n's long, curly hair. She waved, liking the affection. - "And don't forget Y/n" - He held her chin - "You're still mine and these tits here" - He looked down - "They're mine." - And before Y/n could answer, he entered the room again slamming the door, leaving Y/n with hers heart racing without containing the naughty smile on her face.

Things would never change apparently, and even if Y/n tried not to fall into Sebastian's sly and seductive charm, she never could, her heart always spoke more for itself than her mind.

The whole thing is that Y/n didn't want to get hurt again. It was difficult to live without Sebastian, even though he had some passing cases, no one would ever be like him. And Y/n knew that his heart would always belong to Sebastian, after all, it was always him. Y/n knew that he would forever have a bond with him, and she still hoped that one day they would go back to what they were before. A happy and united family.

(...)

Sebastian was at the resort gym, it was about ten in the morning, and he had already been there for almost an hour. Working out lightly because I was on vacation. His little boy was also there playing in a corner with his toys, while Y/n was with Ivy at home.

Isaac watched Sebastian carefully making a treadmill, his curious little blue eyes thinking that it was a toy, so he leaned his little hands on the floor and pushed his body up standing up and walking to his father.

When he approached Sebastian automatically put his eyes on the boy, taking off his headphones to hear what his son was saying.

- "Daddy's toy?" - He asked pointing to the treadmill, approaching curiously. Sebastian quickly slowed down and turned off the device, telling his son to move away.

- "Don't, it's not a toy, don't get close, you can get hurt." - He said taking the little boy's arm and pushing him away. Isaac looked up staring at Sebastian's sweaty face, he was shirtless and only wearing black shorts, his body all sweaty.

- "I want to go up!" - The boy asked slyly. Sebastian bent down at the height of his son fixing his straight hair.

- "Isaac can't."

- "I want to go up daddy.. to play." - Isaac kept insisting, wanting more than anything to walk on the "toy"

- "It's not a toy son, is it to train hm?" - Sebastian smiled - "Be strong like dad." - He showed the muscles of his arm, pulling a childish laugh from his son.

- "I want to be like daddy!!" - Isaac said excited, imitating his father's previous movement and showing his chubby little arms.

Sebastian smiled, kissing his son's head. He took him in the arm putting the boy on the treadmill, Sebastian supported his feet next to the machine turning it on and putting it at speed 2 very slowly, so that his son did not fall.

- "You have to keep walking son, will dad hold you so you don't fall all right?" - He said holding both arms of Isaac who agreed with his head, smiling when he saw the treadmill walking under his little feet.

- "Faster!" - The little boy asked excitedly, Sebastian smiled putting it at speed 3 while holding his son carefully, while the child ran on the treadmill.

- "Run, run.. Wow! How fast you are Isaac."- Sebastian increased the speed to 5, Isaac let out a hot laugh running with all his strength while Sebastian held him.

- "I'm faster than Dad" - The boy said loudly, his little feet running non-stop on the treadmill. Your little hair is already sticking to your forehead due to sweat.

- "I want to see if it runs more than that." - Sebastian said fun increasing the speed to 7. The little boy screamed smiling and before he fell Sebastian stopped the machine taking him in his lap and throwing him up, the childish and hot laugh echoed through the empty gym, making his drooling father's heart warm up.

- "More, more, more!!!" - Isaac screamed when Sebastian put him on the floor, taking his water bottle and drinking to hydrate himself.

- "It's better not son, I'm tired and if your mother knows..."

- "Did you know what Sebastian Vettel?" - He choked on the water turning his face and seeing Y/n standing at the entrance of the gym, holding Ivy's little hand that seemed very entertained on her lollipop.

- "Nothing.. it's nothing, isn't it, son?" - He turned his face in the direction of the boy who was already running to his mother.

- "Mom! Mom! Dad let me play running on the floor that walks." - That's what he heard when he felt Y/n's sharp look towards him, he swallowed it dry, knowing that there was another complaint.

Yeah, sometimes Sebastian looked like a child, afraid of his mother (Y/n).

Hours later and they were all in a luxurious restaurant near the resort. All well dressed. Ivy was wearing a little white dress and in her blonde hair an adorable bow of the same color, her little hands with pink painted nails. Isaac was wearing black pants and a burberry blouse, his little legs swinging on the chair while eating.

Y/n was elegant in a burgundy dress, his beautiful smooth and thick legs to show and his big breasts highlighted by the neckline, which was devoured by Sebastian's look.

And Sebastian was perfect as always. A simple black pants and a black turtleneck T-shirt, elegant and a hot total in Y/n's opinion, who held on so as not to let out a sigh every minute, she loved it when he wore a turtleneck.

- "Can you cut for me daddy, please?" - Isaac asked politely to his father who waved cutting a small piece of meat in his son's mouth. Ivy ate next to her mother who also helped her.

- "Are you thirsty , princess?" - Y/n asked her, wiping her dirty mouth in soak.

- "Yes mom, I want juice." - She asked, her beautiful green eyes shining in the direction of her mother, who answered her request by helping her drink the lemon juice. Without containing the smile when the girl made a face.

- "So, tell mom how it was today, did you have fun?" - Y/n asked her children, while noticing Sebastian's look on her, to tell the truth she would never get used to those blue eyes looking so carefully at her details, it was something Y/n always loved about Sebastian.

- "Yes, Dad let me play at the gym and then rode a bike with me!" - Isaac said excited, his dimples like all his mouth dirty with soak. Sebastian smiled affectionately.

- "What a good son, your father is kind of crazy for letting you play on the treadmill.." - She gave a mischievous look at Sebastian who smirked for her.

- "But I'm glad you had fun." - Y/n said running her hand through the boy's hair, who waved, chewing. She turned her gaze to her daughter who practically slept sitting.

- "Are you very tired of today, my dear?" - Sebastian asked her, cleaning Isaac's mouth. The little girl blinked her heavy green eyes, smiling.

- "Yes, dad, mom and I had a day of beauty"- She said confident laughing from her parents, for the way she spoke the words taggled because of sleep.

- "Okay?" - She confirmed, Sebastian approached the little girl taking her little hand and seeing her painted nails.

- "It was beautiful, daughter. You look as beautiful as your mother.." - He said looking away at Y/'n who smirked exposing a dimple.

- "Mom is beautiful!!!" - The girl confirmed, smiling at her father who smoothed her little hand.

- "Absolutely love.. for sure." - Sebastian waved sending a naughty look to Y/n who smiled denying it with her head, helping her son to eat.

After a few hours, they decided to go back to the resort. The children were tired and didn't take long to fall asleep, so as soon as they arrived and changed them, their parents put them in the room.

- "Good night, loves of my life. I love you." - Sebastian said giving a long kiss on the head of his two sleepy children. Watching Y/n do the same before leaving the room.

-"Mom loves you. Sleep well." - That's what Y/n whispered to her children, fixing them right in bed and left more affectionate kisses all over their little face and left the room leaving the door half-open.

🌊

She saw Sebastian leaning against the wall and approached him, his gaze burning with desire in the direction of Sebastian who smirked, knowing more than anyone that look that only Y/n sent him.

- "Too tired?" - He asked crossing his arms.

- "Very.. you have no idea." - Y/n said in an ironic tone, when she rolled her eyes and went to her room, ready to take a shower and relieve her sexual tension. Before she entered the room she felt her arm being grabbed without force by Sebastian, who turned him facing her, grabbing her waist then, Y/n gasped putting her hands on her ex-husband's little breastplate.

- "Where do you think you're going hm?" - He asked, your rogue smile without leaving your face.

- "Rest.. know how to relax." - Y/n approached Sebastian's ear whispering softly: - "I'm so horny, I think I need to relieve myself."

Sebastian took a deep breath, climbing his hand to Y/n's hair where he pulled without much force, he brought his face closer to the fragrant neck passing his nose to her delicate jaw, reaching his ear where he left a wet kiss right below, smiling when he felt Y/n tremble in his arms.

- "I'll help you with that." - She denied it with her head, Sebastian smiled softly against Y/n's warm skin that felt even more wet. He walked away leaving wet kisses all over her neck, got close to her fleshy mouth lightly relacing his lips when he saw Y/n grunting irritated by the provocation. He walked away a little further holding Y/n's face with his hand and watching her give him a submissive look that Sebastian loved. - "Don't play hard Y/n, we both know the little desperate little girl for my cock that you are."

- "So convinced.." - Y/n smiled, biting her lips.

- "Oh you know that yes, and you know even better that only I know how to take care of you babe." - He lowered his voice - "Only I know how to make you cum very hot on my cock - Y/n let a moan escape from her lips, she couldn't help it, she always loved the way Sebastian treated her in sex, the things he said made her so wet. And she knew he liked that.

- "P-please.." - She asked sighing, Sebastian smiled taking his hand off Y/n's face and going down to her waist, feeling her arms on his shoulders soon after.

- "My little whore." - Sebastian whispered, leaving a wet peck on Y/n's lips, she lowered the collar of Sebastian's T-shirt scratching her neck lightly and couldn't stand the provocation anymore, glued her mouths together.

The taste of the wine they had ordered earlier was palpable on their lips, and Y/n grunted during the kiss feeling Sebastian's skillful tongue suck his hard. She missed that kiss and that footprint.

Sebastian pulled his lower lip slowly, passing his tongue then to relieve the pain, leaving a long peck on Y/n before plunging his tongue into her mouth again, she who squeezed the back of her neck and scratched while Sebastian squeezed her waist tightly. He pushed Y/n to the wall that moved her mouth away from her to breathe, opening her eyes and seeing Sebastian's red mouth and rogue smile.

- "So delicious.. I missed your hot little mouth love." - He whispered making the hairs of his arms to get goosebumps, he approached him again leaving a kiss in the corner of her red lips and talking softly near your ear: - "I really want to fuck you very hard in the shower, what do you think?"

- "Yes.. I want everything from you Sebastian" - Y/n confessed sighing feeling the warm breath of Sebastian who kissed her whole neck with devotion - "Do you fuck me hm? That way only you know love." - She said softly running her hands through

Sebastian's hair who walked away smiling.

He held his hand and opened the bedroom door, then locked it. Then they would go to the large suite of the luxurious room, Y/n leaning on the sink with a naughty smile watching Sebastian close the door, when he approached him again starting a new kissing session.

Y/n pulled Sebastians' T-shirt up during the kiss, he who soon walked away taking it off and throwing it away. She couldn't help but look down through the little spotted body, the volume of the big cock already very visible in the black pants.

- "Do you like the view?" - Sebastian asked convinced, Y/n agreed with her head biting her lips.

- "Yummy.." - She spoke quietly. Sebastian smiled, raising his hand to Y/n's thick thighs, lowering his gaze and seeing the breasts he loved so much in front of him.

- "Do you miss when I sucked on your very hot breasts?" - He asks softly, continuing to raise his hand into Y/n's dress, which where he felt Sebastian's hand got even more wet. - "Or rather.." - He arrives in Y/n's lace panties without containing the little smile when she closes her eyes and throws her head back, feeling his hand touching the hard clit - "When did I fuck them with my cock?"

- "Sebastian..." - Y/n moans in need, she rests her hands on her ex-husband's firm shoulders, feeling his finger rubbing hot on her sensitive clitoris.

- "Impressive Y/n. No matter how much time passes, you will always be so sensitive to my touches." - He ran his nose on Y/n's fragrant collarbone going up her neck and delighting in his panting breath in her ear - "A bitch so needs a cock." - And Y/n opens her eyes when he moves away, taking off his pants. Y/n does the same by starting to take off her dress, anxiously.

When the two are naked, Y/n throws a naughty look at Sebastian who wrapped his big cock with a hand masturbating watching Y/n's chubby pussy, he looked up at her eyes speaking authoritatively: - "To the shower. Now." Yn didn't even hesitate to go quickly, entering the large and spacious box, she turned on the shower feeling the strong jet of water hit her hot body, closing her eyes and enjoying it, knowing that Sebastian was watching her.

- "Turns." - She heard Y/n say opening her eyes and seeing him facing her inside the box. He masturbated his thick cock and full of veins jumped slowly, the bright red head with the pre-entment leaking from the slit.

Y/n bit her lip turning around and prancing her wet ass towards Sebastian, hearing him sigh heavily. She smiled naughty shaking slowly while the water wet her body, a fucking hot scene.

- "Do you like it like that, love?" - She ran her hand through her ass giving a strong slap on her wet skin. Sebastian increased the speed of the handjob moaning quietly with his eyesight.

- "Are you going to roll like that on my dick?" - He asked panting.

Y/n turned in front of him again approaching Sebastian's spotted body, she was kneeling slowly for all the glory of the ex-husband who felt more pre-joyment leaking from his cock.

- "First, baby.." - She said touching her strong thighs - "I want you to fuck my breasts." - She licked the red glans, watching Sebastian lock his jaw. - "And then... I'm going to roll and you're going to fuck me very tasty against the box." - Y/n smiled feeling a slight slap on the cheek, Sebastian held her wet hair masturbating the cock very close to her face and hitting her on Y/n's pink cheek.

- "Be quiet and open your fucking mouth." - He told her to watch Y/n wave. She did what was asked and opened her mouth to Sebastian, who stuck his cock inside to make it very wet. Then he left positioning the cock in the middle of Y/n's breasts, she who squeezed him between them.

- "Damn.." - He moaned starting to stock up, everything slipped easily because of Y/n's wet skin who had her eyes glazed on Sebastian who bit his lips moaning softly.

Sebastian supported a hand on the side of Y/n's neck, starting to stock up harder. She who with one hand squeezed his balls and the other leaned on her waist, looking at herself horny.

- "Go love, fuck my tits hm.." - Y/n said almost in a moan, which made Sebastian roll his eyes and slap her pink cheek hard. Y/n whimpered at the burning, then smiling at her ex-husband.

- "Fuck you whore, look at me like this again that I'm going to cum on this beautiful little face of yours." - Sebastian moaned when Y/n licked the sensitive head of his cock, staring at him like that again.

- "Oh fuck.." - He threw his head back taking his cock out of the middle of Y/n's breasts, masturbating fast on the hot tongue of the greedy little whore. Cumming minutes later in Y/n's little mouth and big wet tits.

- "Always delicious.." - Y/n said after a while, getting up and being pushed under the shower, where Sebastian kissed her willingly feeling his own taste.

Y/n reached Sebastian's cock masturbating him lightly to make him hard, which didn't take long. Soon after, she went up scratching Sebastian's abdomen that walked away throwing a silly look at her, Y/n felt her pussy contract with it.

- "Fuck me." - She asked sly, Sebastian just turned Y/n with brutality under the glass of the box. She leaned her hands behind her back as if she were handcuffed, Sebastian masturbated by opening Y/n's wet ass and rubbing his hard and wet cock in the little entrance that contracts anxiously.

- "Sebastian!" - Y/n moaned when he came in for good, starting to stock up. Sebastian held in her arms, while Y/n had her cheek prot in the wet box of the bathroom, her breathing hitting against the glass along with the noise of the bodies crashing under the water in the shower.

- "Hm.. it's still so tight for me, because you know I like it, isn't it a little bitch?" - He said behind him, without stopping stocking up. Y/n moaned feeling Sebastian's hot and wet cock stocking on her little cunt.

- "Yes Sebastian.. fuck your whore!" - Y/n contracted the pussy on Sebastian's cock that grunted excited stocking up hard and non-stop while moaning hoarsely.

The wet bodies collided hard under the shower, the water fell on Sebastian's chest and Y/n's big ass that hit his groin hard, while the two moaned too much at the moment.

- "Fuck" - Sebastian moaned - "Good as fuck." - Y/n got even more wet moaning. She leaned one hand on the glass going down the other to her little clit where she rubbed hard.

- "I'm going to c-cum Seb.. fuck I'm going to cum on your cock." - Y/n moaned with her mouth glued to the box, feeling Sebastian' shead resting on her wet back while he also moaned to himself.

- "Make fun of me that I'm going to fill you with cum." - He said hoarse - "Do you want that? Do you want me to get you pregnant again, you whore?" - He asked kissing Y/n's back.

- "Y-yes fuck.. fills me with cum Seb, cums very hot inside me" - Y/n said moaning loudly when Sebastian stocked up hard three more times cumming inside her in strong jets of hot cum. Y/n then came shaking on Sebastian's cock when he squirted feeling her legs shaking and Sebastian's cock pulsating inside her.

Sebastian turned around asking if everything was okay, Y/n waved smiling and the two kissed again and again.. Until they finish the bath and go to sleep together.

It seemed like things had changed.

(...)

- "Black daddy! I want black!!" - Isaac's voice echoed in the couple's room. They were all there in bed, it was about eight at night and while Sebastian was painting Y/n's nails, Isaac and Ivy entered the room wanting to play with their parents, so everyone decided to paint their nails.

Sebastian smiled at his son waving. It had been three nights since what happened with Y/n and things were good. They had not yet talked about what happened, but somewhere inside them the two knew they were already together again.

- "To match Mom!" - Ivy smiled looking at her nails painted red.

- "That's right, my princess." - Y/n stied her daughter's curls, looking away from her son and Sebastian who painted Isaac's nail with dedication. Her passionate heart is calming up by the scene.

- "Ready son, did you like it?" - Sebastian asked when he finished. Isaac smiled sangly agreeing then approached his mother and sister, Sebastian did the same.

- "I want to see everyone's get together here." - Y/n asked, the three of them did and put their hands under the bed sheet, it was a funny mixture of colors. Sebastian was in dark blue, Isaac black, Ivy red, and Y/n also red.

- "It was beautiful! Did you like it, loves?" - Y/n asked his children who agreed to look at each other's nails.

Sebastian got closer to Y/n taking her hands and kissing them, she smiled leaving a long peck on her lips. He turned his eyes to the children who started singing and jumping on the bed, and with a beautiful smile on his face and shining eyes Sebastian said seriously to Y/n.

- "I love you." - His blue eyes were shining in the direction of Y/n who turned her children's eyes away to Sebastian, also smiling and holding back the cry.

- "I love you too, Sebastian." - She said happy. The two sealed their lips in a passionate kiss moving away when the children played saying that it was disgusting.

Regardless of everything, they were a family, and both Sebastian and Y/n would fight to make it work. And they could do it, because love always wins in the end.

[roosterr]

only you

note: him. that is all.

pairing: kyle 'gaz' garrick x gn!reader

wc: 1.8k

summary: you and soap get to talking about your love life. gaz gets jealous.

warnings: little bit of miscommunication, jealousy, you and gaz make out, the mildest of spice

ao3

sleepless nights were not a rarity for you. it comes with the territory in this line of work, unfortunately, something you and your fellow sergeants have in common. it also wasn't out of place for the three of you to find each other in the rec room well into the early hours of the morning, which is exactly where you'd ended up tonight.

perhaps it was the result of the insomnia that had kept you up far later than your mind could handle, but you'd foolishly divulged that you hadn't been on an actual date in a depressingly long time – soap seemed to find that far more amusing than you would've liked, and quickly took it upon himself to demonstrate his unique ability to make you wish you'd kept your mouth shut.

"c'mon, you cannae be serious," soap wears a shit-eating grin as he leans forward in the armchair, leaning his elbows on his knees as you roll your eyes. gaz stays quiet beside you, which you're silently grateful for, but you do feel his eyes on the side of your head.

"i just don't have the time for it," you sigh, resting your elbow on the arm of the sofa and dropping your hand into your palm.

it's true, your job didn't allow room for much of a social life, what with being sent all over the world for months at a time– really, it was a miracle you did anything except work.

that wasn't the main reason, he was sitting on your other side, but you'd be damned before you revealed that to soap,  of all people.

"well, if you can't get any, then there's nae hope for the rest of us." soap chuckles, reaching over and playfully nudging your arm.

you let out a groan, shoving his hand away and dragging your own down your face. "shut up, soap, that's not how it is…"

he laughs again at your reaction, still showing no signs of relenting. "maybe i'll have to take you out, then."

"on what? a pipe-bomb masterclass?" you scoff, the grin on your lips betraying your attempt at looking unimpressed. both of them laugh at that, soap raising his hands in a gesture that says 'so what?'.

"dinnae try'n tell me that wouldn't be an excitin' date." he reasons, tilting his head and quirking his brow at you. you narrow your eyes, humming in faux-consideration and playfully tapping a finger on your chin.

"for a pyromaniac, maybe…" gaz grumbles from beside you. the sofa moves under you as he shifts his weight around, and if you weren't so tired you would've noticed the way his voice trailed off in such an uncharacteristic manner.

"maybe," you laugh, shaking your head at the very idea of it, and the fact that soap definitely would if he could convince someone to go along with it. "that's if i don't wind up dead by the end of it."

"i wouldn't let anythin' happen to ya, bonnie, cross my heart." he grins, making an x over his chest with one finger.

"but you'd still make a homemade bomb right in front of me?" you lift an eyebrow at his teasing expression.

"my two favourite things; a good explosive  and a good view,"

"oh god, shut the fuck up." you groan, reaching to swat the back of his head as you stand up. "that's enough for tonight, i need sleep."

"think i'll call it a night too." gaz mumbles half-heartedly from his spot beside you, quickly standing and making his way to the door without another word. you frown, confused by his sudden coldness, waving to soap and calling a quiet 'goodnight' before you step out into the hallway after him.

"night, bonnie, i'll pick you up at eight!" soap calls, loud enough for you to hear in the corridor, earning a soft chuckle and another shake of your head as you catch up to gaz.

he doesn’t even spare you a glance as you trail behind him, marching ahead with a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there before. his abrupt switch in attitude concerned you; he was fine not even five minutes ago, what could’ve happened to change that? 

"you okay, gaz?" you ask with a hesitance that feels strange directed at him, someone you’re usually so confident around. for a moment there's no response, but he does slow down slightly, taking a right into a corner of the building with the lights shut off. you follow still, growing more concerned with every second that passes.

you’re about to ask again, but a few paces into the shadows gaz turns sharply on his heel, catching you off guard with how suddenly he stops walking and causing you to bump into his chest. 

"gaz…?" you utter, your quiet voice a ripple in the stillness of the empty corridor. he meets your eye as you look quizzically back at him, a conflicted expression taking over his features.

you open your mouth to say something more, but before you can get the words out he's laying a hand on your shoulder and gently pushing you against the wall. the hand on you shifts to rest in the crook of your neck and shoulder, while he leans the other on the wall with his hand next to your head.

your breath catches in your throat, and your previous exhaustion is completely forgotten. the way he's looking at you, staring straight through you with that deep brown gaze and right into your soul, it's like a spell has fallen over you.

kyle leans even closer, caging you in with his broad shoulders and blocking out the world around him, so he's the only thing you can focus on– as if you could possibly think about anything else when he's touching you so tenderly.

"don't go out with him…" he utters, his eyes flickering back and forth as they search yours. the pause between you hangs heavy in the air. when your questioning expression doesn't change, he takes his bottom lip between his teeth and drops his gaze, letting his eyes fall shut as he continues. "don't fuckin' go out with him, please…"

"wh…" you stutter, trailing off as you wonder inwardly what the hell he's talking about; and then it hits you.

there's another pause, and you swallow thickly at the realisation that he was talking about your earlier conversation with soap; that he was reacting like this because he thought you would actually take johnny seriously. "kyle… he was joking."

"i'm not." he mutters in response, shifting closer again by resting his forearm against the wall instead of his hand. he's looking at you again, with heavy eyes that keep you entranced by him. you can't help the uneven breath that escapes you under his intense gaze and the way his thumb begins to stroke your jaw. "let me take you out, i'll give you anything you want if you'll have me, love."

it's hard to concentrate on anything other than the sparks his touch creates as he caresses your skin. you're sure he can feel the way your pulse is racing under his fingertips. there's no one but him in this moment, the minimal distance between you still somehow feeling too great as you subconsciously lean your face closer to his.

the silence and your heartbeat are so loud in your ears, you almost don’t hear his next words.

"can i kiss you?" he asks, little more than a whisper, tilting his head so his lips ghost over yours. you breath another shuddering sigh, letting your eyes flutter closed as you nod almost imperceptibly.

"please."

time seems to slow as the word hangs in the air, the warmth radiating from him seeps into your skin as he closes the final distance and presses his lips against yours.

the hand on your neck travels up to your face, cradling your cheek with a touch so soft, almost disbelieving, like he expected you to disappear at any moment.

"i'm yours, love," he mumbles against you, never straying too far from your lips as he caresses your cheek, "i'm all yours…"

you loop your arms around his neck, knocking his hat loose in the process, but neither of you pay it any mind as it lands on the floor at your feet – too lost in yourselves to care. in the brief moment you part for air, a breathy whisper of his name escapes you, and as if a switch has flipped, his mouth is back against yours with a fervour that you struggle to keep up with.

he's running his hand up and down the length of your waist, your hip, hiking your leg up and around his side, dragging his touch over your thigh, like he can't get enough of you. it's intoxicating, the way you pant into each other, flush against one another yet still itching to get closer.

your lungs burn as he pulls away again, just enough to whisper, his voice low and needy, "god– the things you do to me, sweetheart,"

his touch is reverent as he takes you in; your touch, your skin, your taste, the sounds he pulls from you as he kneads the flesh of your waist under your shirt. it sends your head spinning, the blood rushing in your ears stopping you from thinking about anything other than the feel of his lips on yours.

you trail one of your hands down his body, over his chest and down to the hem of his shirt, where you slip your fingers under to rest against his toned stomach. his skin is hot under your hand, drawing another groan of your name from him, and he slowly moves his hands up your own abdomen, leaving a trail of goosebumps in the wake of his fingers–

"awh, c'mon!"

the sound of soap's voice startles you into knocking your head against the wall behind you, both yours and kyle's hands darting back from their less than appropriate positions.

you look over to the scott, a sheepish grin on your face at his disapproving face. kyle buries his face into your shoulder, a groan of both embarrassment and annoyance escaping his chest. you resist the urge to laugh, instead running your hands up and down his back in an attempt to comfort him.

"fucks sake, soap…" kyle grumbles, wrapping his arms back around your waist. he doesn't look up at your friend, opting to keep his undoubtedly embarrassed expression hidden by your neck.

"think i'll have to cancel that date after all." you cant keep the amusement off your face when you speak, earning a dramatic eye roll from soap.

"too right, ye animals…" he mutters, shaking his head in exasperation as he disappears around the corner again. neither of you move as you listen to his footsteps retreating down the corridor, staying frozen in place until it's quiet once more.

only once you're sure johnny's gone does the laugh you've been stifling bubble up from your chest, escaping into the otherwise quiet night as kyle finally lifts his head to meet your gaze.

he eyes the bashful smile pulling at your lips and lets out a laugh of his own, pressing his forehead back to yours and letting his eyes fall closed again.

killing soap could wait until tomorrow; right now, it was just you and him, and that's how you want to keep it.

[coolshadowtwins]

SVSSS fanfic that I will never write-

LBH post canon accidently goes back in time. How? I don’t know, it isn’t important. If I had to pick a stupid reason, then in PIDW had a storyline where LBH went back in time to a wife’s past to like… learn more about her? To help her in the trauma? IDK but what I do know is that Peerless Cucumber would have ranged for hours about Airplane adding in the concept of time travel and then doing nothing else’s with it.

And guess who the subject of the wife plot is now??? That’s right- SQQ. Except the wife plot took the body and not the soul, and now Binghe is back during SJ’s disciple days.

LBH somehow, as the main character, manages to convince the peak lords of the time that he’s of Qing Jing! He is, really! He really laid on the charm here.

Previous Sect leader: I don’t know if I believe you, but since you look like such a polite young man-

LBH gets escorted away to a room by the head disciple. And who is the head disciple of the sect leader peak??? It’s Yue Qi, sad and depressed and lifeless because LBH managed to find himself in the period of time where YQY thinks SJ is dead!

LBH: I want to meet my young Shizun. Shen Qingqiu- Shen Jiu I think now?

YQY: …. Xiao Jiu is dead?

LBH: Maybe in the future for like five years but not right now!! He’s my super awesome Shizun! …. Do you want to drop everything to go look for him?

YQY: Oh boy, do I!!!

So the two bounce from the sect with no warning, looking Shen Jiu. Luckily, now knowing that he is alive and didn’t die in the fire, it’s pretty easy to follow the line of gossip that follows WY and SJ. And of course, the entire time, LBH is praising his Shizun.

Now, he hasn’t said that he was married to his Shizun. He didn’t want to spoil that just yet! He’ll reveal that to his younger Shizun himself when they find him. But until then, he can still tell YQY how awesome his Shizun is, and how nice, and how close he was to SQH and LQG and even to YQY himself! (That last one was a bit of a fib, of course. SQQ was always a little uncomfortable around the sect leader. But YQY was eating all of this up, being so happy that his childhood friend was so happy and well liked, and well…. It was only a small fib)

They finally catches up with them, and quickly dealing with the other guy, YQY and SJ have a nice reunion, having both think the other was dead! And of course, it was incredibly clear that YQY had been looking for SJ this whole time, which does wonders for his abandonment issues. SJ may yell at YQY for leaving the sect so suddenly and risking everything just for him, but on the inside, he is bursting for joy, trust me.

LBH is not bursting for joy. Like, at all. He had been so excited to see his Shizun but young and now that he’s here…. Something inside of him and screaming that this wasn’t his Shizun.

He had no reason to believe that. This was very clearly SQQ at 14~. But of course, he’s the 200 IQ protagonist and figures it out quickly that his wonderful Shizun/husband took over his body when LBH was 14 and that this was his shitty Shizun that made his early years in the sect awful.

He’s fully ok with that. If his husband needs to possess another man to be with him, than who is LBH to judge? Only the best body for him! The problem is, of course, that he has spent the entire trip over ranting to YQY about how good of a teacher SQQ was to him, and now YQY is excitedly telling everything he said to SJ. LBH can’t just…. Back track now! That would be weird, and if they think that someone will possess SJ later, then what if his husband never shows up??

So he goes along with it. It isn’t hard- he doesn’t hate SJ, not like PIDW him would. He was only under him for three years~ and a lot of what happened to him was still being justified in his head. So it’s just… whatever, to him at that point. He confirms what YQY had been saying, spins a charismatic lie to the sect about why they left and how GREAT SJ will be as a disciple in the future, and then he leaves. Just, fades away in front of everyone.

And now this is SJ’s life. He thinks he’s a good Shizun in the future, even if he can’t stand kids. He think that he becomes friends with SQH and LQG, which is oddly hard to do?? LQG angrily wants to fight him every time he sees him, which is super annoying, and SJ is 88% sure that SQH is talking to demons but, you know. If another version of him managed to become their friend without future knowledge, then he has to do it now! He has a head start on the race here, no way is he losing it!

He does become friends with them, and is still incredibly close to YQY as they grow up. He’s still… him, but his major heart demons- the abandonment by his Qi-Ge and being unsafe even in the sect- aren’t there anymore. He even manages to be an ok Shizun to a young LBH, somehow. He’s pretty sure that he’s sucking at that, btw, because the little brat gets on his nerves when they are in the same room for more than five minutes, but he’s being mostly polite! He had to wonder what the other version of him did to get such a glowing review from the future version of his disciple, because it has to be more than this.

Ironically, because I think it’s funny, this is the timeline that our LBH finds himself back in. The time travel was always meant to be a stable one timeline kinda thing, so anything he changed in the past affected the future. I imagine in PIDW that LBG didn’t do much of anything but maybe comfort his future wife, for Airplane’s fear of making a confusing paradox for himself. But this Binghe? Oh no, he did so much!

Because he saved SJ some heart demons, and helped him make friends despite his trauma, he’s not as prone to Qi divinations! Which means that he didn’t have a fatal one when LBH was 14! Which means when LBH gets back to his time after all of that, he takes one look at his ‘Shizun’ and knows that this isn’t his husband. Which means that his husband never possessed SJ!

He’s horrified, and spends a whole day moping around the peak, trying to think of ways to fix this. He has just gotten himself worked up to go and do something drastic when NYY finds him.

NYY: There you are!! Shen-Shidi has been looking for you all day!

LBH: H-huh?

NYY: Why are you moping around, huh? Did you and Shen-Shidi have a fight? Don’t worry! He’s your husband, I know he’ll forgive you-!

LBH: WHAT.

And that’s how he learns that while he isn’t married to his Shizun in this timeline, he is married to his Shixiong, Shen Yuan! Shen Yuan, who got shoved in Willy nilly when the system realized that SJ wasn’t going to die when he was supposed to.

There’s probably some sequel where LBH has to fake that he has memories of what happened in this timeline, which I imagine is somewhat close to Svsss? The system was still running around, even if a major player has changed. And LBH would just be so bad at faking it in front of two people and two people only- SJ and SY.

SY: Binghe, don’t you remember our first date? :)

LBH: …It wasn’t the water prison!

SY: ….that statement is correct but also the wrong answer.

And

SJ: Beast, you’re not coming to this Immortal Convenance. Don’t you remember meber what happened last time?

LBH: …. You didn’t push me into the endless abyss?

SJ:… That statement is wrong and I was also going for the HHP tag alongs you obtained.

[floralcyanidee]

ᴛʀɪᴘʟᴇ ᴛʀᴏᴜʙʟᴇ

Bruce Wayne x Reader x Jonathan Crane (NSFW)

When you notice Dr. Jonathan Crane watching you and your husband at a fundraising party, you get a little curious. When Dr. Crane angers you, he presses you to explore that anger. Will he regret it?

warnings: smut, nipple play, fingering, penetrative sex, unprotected sex (both vaginal and anal), oral sex, cock warming, anal sex, anal fingering, blowjobs, dirty talk, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, hair pulling, porn without much plot, masturbation, forced masturbation, threesome, male x male, male x female, male x male x female, cum swallowing, spitting, face sitting, face fucking, crying, sub/dom tones, dom!reader, sub!jonathan, kinda sub!bruce but not really, ya know, just pure filth

word count: 5254

author’s note: welcome to our one-way ticket to hell besties <3 I didn't proofread this because it just poured out of me and I was truly possessed by the writing demon today. I had an idea and literally ran with it. I don't think I've ever written something so filthy before lol please enjoy and give feedback!! READ THE WARNINGS this fic isn't for everyone tbh.

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MOODBOARD FOR THIS FIC

One thing about being married to the Bruce Wayne was he had a thing for throwing parties and fundraisers at your mansion. This meant you had to dress up quite a bit, and you had to look really good as you were Bruce’s wife, of course. He always ensured you had the newest and most gorgeous gowns to show off at the gatherings. You’d spend the whole day getting your hair, makeup, and nails done, only to be at the parties for a few hours. And that was usually because Bruce had other duties in the city, he got too distracted by what you were wearing and needed you right then, or he simply let his antisocial side creep up on him. Tonight at the fundraiser he’s throwing, he seems content and has been by your side most of the night. Nothing drastic was going on in the city that demanded his action. But something was bothering him, you could tell. He’s slightly off, and you catch him staring at someone in the crowd a few times. You’re never able to pick them out, though. 

You and Bruce are by the champagne table, and you notice Bruce is gazing out into the crowd of partygoers again.

“Bruce?” you ask softly, putting a hand on his bicep, “You alright?”

Bruce blinks hard a few times before turning to you, “I’m fine, darling.”

“You sure? You seem distracted by something this evening,” you scan the room, but to no avail for whomever Bruce is focused on.

“I just thought I recognized someone,” Bruce says, sipping his drink.

“Hmm. Alright, then.”

“Have I told you that you look beautiful tonight?” Bruce smiles, letting a hand slide across the small of your back.

“Only about a thousand times,” you giggle, leaning into your husband.

You happen to look up, and that’s when you see him staring at the two of you. Dr. Jonathan Crane. He quickly averts his eyes away, but you have already caught him.

“Is it Dr. Crane that you recognize?” you ask Bruce, motioning to where he’s standing with some other rich psychologists.

“Yeah,” Bruce exhales, shrugging, “I thought he had left the city a while ago.”

“After the asylum got turned loose? I figured so, too. Oh well,” you say, looking up at Bruce, “If he’s here, then he’s donating, so maybe it’s not so bad.”

“You have a point,” Bruce raises his eyebrows, “I’m still keeping an eye on him, though.”

You knew of a few of the villains Bruce has come in contact with, including Jonathan. He had almost killed your best friend and sent the whole city insane. Who knows what would have happened to Gotham if it weren't for Bruce. But a part of you is curious about Jonathan- a deep, intellectual part of you. Why is he still here? Is he still a doctor? Your brain becomes dizzy with all the questions. If Jonathan is here acting casually on his own accord, you could, too. You tear away from Bruce without a word, drink in hand. Bruce calls after you, panic surging through him when he realizes where you’re headed.

“Dr. Crane,” you smile upon arriving in front of him and another psychologist, “Wonderful to see you here.”

“Ah, Mrs. Wayne. I wouldn’t miss a marvelous party for a good cause. Have you met Dr. Robin here?” Jonathan smiles back, not missing a single beat.

“I have not,” you look over to the tall woman in front of Jonathan, clad in a pantsuit. You reach out a hand for her to shake, “Y/N Wayne.”

“I know who you are, Mrs. Wayne,” Dr. Robin says politely, her Australian accent strong, “Your dress is quite lovely, I must say.”

“Thank you,” you reply with a smile, willing her to leave so you could speak with Jonathan alone. 

“Well, I’ll be off. Seems you two have something to discuss,” Dr. Robin announces her departure, much to your relief.

“It was nice meeting you,” you say sweetly as she walks away.

“You as well, Mrs. Wayne.”

You turn to Jonathan, who clears his throat as he looks you up and down. You’re nearly the same height as him, if not slightly taller, in your heels. 

“It’s really brave of you to be here, Dr. Crane,” you turn your head to the side, giving him a closed-lip smile.

“Please, call me Jonathan,” Jonathan responds, “And what would you mean by that?”

You take a step closer to him, leaning into his ear, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, Jonathan. Or should I say, Mr. Scarecrow.”

Jonathan doesn’t flinch. In fact, he grins at you as he exhales a laugh, “Those days are behind me, I’m afraid.”

“Uh-huh,” you cross your arms, “And why should I believe you?”

Jonathan glances behind you to look at Bruce, who is on edge and watching the entire conversation to ensure nothing is tried. A muscle in Jonathan’s jaw twitches, “You don’t have to. But if I were up to no good, why would I be in the presence of the Batman and his lover? Quite unintelligent, wouldn’t you think?”

“And why are you here, exactly?” 

“Trying to get myself back into the Gotham scene,” Jonathan looks at you matter-of-factly, “I’ve missed a lot being gone, you know.”

“Oh, I do know. And maybe you should’ve stayed gone,” you try not to snarl at him.

“Now, now, Mrs. Wayne. That is no way to speak to a donor,” Jonathan says, his voice dripping like honey with malice.

“You better be glad there are people around or-”

“Or what?” Jonathan asks, raising his eyebrows, a smirk itching at his lips.

“I’d fucking break you right here.”

“Sounds like a fun time. However, I’m not sure your husband would appreciate that in many, many ways.”

You scoff, “Don’t be crass. I’m not flirting with you. If I were, you’d know it.”

“There’s a fine line between desire and hatred, my dear,” Jonathan whispers in your ear, causing goosebumps to arise on your skin, “It’s a fun line to walk.”

Annoyance swells in your chest. You desperately wanted him to shut his bratty mouth. You also wanted to enjoy the rest of the party, but now that Jonathan had you riled up in anger, you wanted nothing more than to slam him against the wall and-

“Everything okay over here?” Bruce approaches suddenly, taking you by surprise.

“Everything is fine, sweetheart,” you place your hand on Bruce’s chest as a warning, “Nothing to worry about.”

“Dr. Crane isn’t bothering you, is he?” Bruce’s nostrils flare.

“Not at all,” you defend the doctor, “In fact, I’m probably annoying him.”

Bruce laughs humorlessly, “Oh, is that so?”

You cock your head at him, “Did you need something, dear?”

“Just want to speak with you privately,” Bruce says.

You go to say something, but Bruce interrupts you, “Both of you.”

If Jonathan is just as confused as you are, he doesn’t show it. 

“Lead the way, Mr. Wayne.”

Bruce walks briskly to one of the guest rooms down the hall from the ballroom, making sure no one is following or watching the three of you. He ushers you and Jonathan inside, following suit before closing the door behind him. 

“You know,” Jonathan says, breaking the silence, “I never pegged Mrs. Wayne for the threatening type out of the two of you.”

You bite your tongue, and Bruce looks over at you.

“Say what you want to say. I brought the two of you in here so you could solve your conversation away from those nosy fuckers outside,” Bruce rolls his eyes, fixing his cuff links.

“We aren’t children, Bruce,” you scowl.

“Then act like it,” Bruce sasses back.

“I do not need two men on my bad side right now. Remember what happens when you’re on my bad side, Bruce?”

Bruce looks between you and Jonathan, a hint of nervousness in his eye, “Don’t bring him into this, darling.”

“No, no. I’m curious now,” Jonathan grins deviously, stepping closer to you, “What happens when someone is on your bad side, Mrs. Wayne?”

Now realizing how your words and threats may have sounded all night to Jonathan, you backpedal.

“Not what you think, Dr. Crane,” you cross your arms, taking a step back from the doctor.

“Oh really? So your antagonizing and threats don’t mean anything?”

“What do you think they mean?”

“As I said earlier, desire and hatred are very close to one another,” Jonathan says suavely, “And I honestly can’t tell which you feel toward me.”

You make a disgusted sound despite the growing need to pin this man down and give him what for. Not even sexually, but simply because you’re tired of him speaking. However, Jonathan wasn’t bad-looking by any means- and sometimes, you and Bruce liked to try new things. But you don’t think Bruce would want to fuck with a murderer and criminal, especially one he’s had close encounters within the city. Jonathan almost burned him alive once, so you aren’t sure about whatever he’s insinuating going very far with your husband. 

“Hatred,” you spit, “It’s hatred. Plus,” you look over at Bruce, “I don’t think my lover would appreciate me having anything to do with you anyway.”

Jonathan snorts, his eyes flickering between you and your husband, “Are you so sure about that?”

You furrow your brow, laughing incredulously at him, “I’m certain.”

“I don’t know,” Bruce says suddenly, “I wouldn’t mind seeing the fucker squirm on your account, Y/N.”

You nearly gasped, suddenly very aware of the animosity you were aiming at Dr. Jonathan Crane, now becoming sexual in nature. Not that you meant for it to, but now that it was insinuated out loud by someone other than Jonathan, you pondered your true feelings. As you’ve said, Jonathan was a looker. If you weren’t married to Bruce and the man wasn’t psychotic, you wouldn’t mind taking him for a ride. But you are married, and he is psychotic. 

Jonathan has his hands shoved in his pockets, a smirk on his face as he studies you, “You want this. Don’t deny it, Mrs. Wayne. I can tell by the look in your eyes.”

You purse your lips together, “What I want is for you to shut up and behave. All you do is act high and mighty when you’re nothing but a little rat.”

Bruce tries to hide his laugh by covering it with a cough, “I’ll let everyone know it’s time to leave. When I come back, you two better be taking care of things.”

You look at Bruce, who gives you a slight nod in approval to do as you wish before he steps out of the room. No one is in charge in the bedroom permanently between the two of you. The dominant role is shared or is back and forth, depending on the day. To your shock, Bruce gives you the complete reins in this situation. But Bruce knew how much you despised Dr. Crane for what he’s done, even if a part of you is desperately curious about him. Desperate enough to demean him sexually, even. You want to humiliate him. Make him cry and make him regret having even come here. You want him to think of you whenever he feels shame or embarrassment for the rest of his life. 

“A little rat, huh?” Jonathan chuckles, undoing his cufflinks.

“Yes,” you blink, forcing him to walk backward to the bed as he struggles to remove his blazer.

You shove him roughly onto the bed, watching him bounce from the mattress with a look of disorientation. Jonathan eventually gets his blazer off, discarding it onto the floor. You can’t properly climb on the bed with your gown on, so you reach behind your back, undoing the clasps that hold the silver dress together. You kick off your glittery heels, letting the gown slip to the floor in a pile. Underneath your dress, you decided a black lingerie set would do nicely. You’re glad you picked well, considering such a doting man was now staring at you like you were a piece of meat and he was starving. You try to ignore the logical side of your brain telling you this man is dangerous and crazy. But the other side of your brain is telling you that his cock is definitely dangerous and crazy, too. And you wanted to find out for sure. 

“Now,” you begin to crawl to where Jonathan wordlessly lays, watching you carefully, “Are you going to be good and keep your mouth shut, pretty boy?”

“No promises,” Jonathan flashes a toothy grin, and you angrily rip his button-up open, buttons flying everywhere across the room.

Jonathan’s mouth hangs open, “That was an expensive shirt.”

“Nothing you can’t replace,” you shrug, running your hands along Jonathan’s handsome chest before letting your nails graze his nipples.

Jonathan shudders at the feeling, and you remove your hands from him, sitting back on your heels, “Lay on the pillows.”

“Ma’am, yes ma’am,” Jonathan purrs, doing as told, surprisingly.

You hear the door open behind you, and you turn around quickly to see Bruce.

“Everyone is cleared out. Brought some fun stuff, too,” he places a box on the floor, kicking it to the end of the bed for you to grab it.

You lean down over the edge of the bed and retrieve the box, crawling on your knees to where Jonathan lies. You open the box and hum in satisfaction at Bruce’s choice of toys and trinkets. You fiddle with one toy, dragging your gaze to Jonathan with a wicked smile on your face. But before you reveal the toy, you snatch some rope out of the box.

“Now you have no choice but to be good, Dr. Crane,” you snicker, offering Bruce some of the rope to tie Jonathan’s left wrist to the bedpost with.

You tie Jonathan’s right wrist tight enough for him not to move too much but not enough to where blood flow is cut off. Jonathan tugs at the rope, looking at you and Bruce with a nervous yet exhilarating smile.

“I’m privileged to be living such a fantasy,” Jonathan sighs.

“You’ll be wishing you had never stepped foot in this house when she’s done with you,” Bruce smirks, unbuttoning his shirt cuffs and rolling his sleeves up.

“Ah,” Jonathan laughs.

Before he can comment any further, you shove a ball gag into his mouth, strapping it behind his head securely. A deep feeling of satisfaction to him finally being quiet fills you. But the joy of seeing such an evil man at your mercy is more intense. 

���You better be glad I chose the ball gag instead of having Bruce have his way with that pretty mouth of yours, Crane,” you say, and Bruce shakes his head from where he stands beside the bed.

Drool begins seeping out of the sides of Jonathan’s mouth, and you can’t help but coo at the sight of his tightening pants and his reddening cheeks. You grab his face between your fingers, squishing his flesh. You hum in satisfaction before letting go of his face and focusing on his slacks. You all but tear his belt off his hips, hurrying to unbutton his pants before ripping them down his thighs. Bruce removes the pants the rest of the way as you climb onto Jonathan’s lap, your clothed core atop his throbbing, leaking bulge.

You kiss Jonathan’s jaw, leaving harsh bites along the column of his throat as you travel down, continuing your assault on the skin of his chest and torso. You reach the band of his underwear, which you tease with your hands, snapping the band against Jonathan’s skin. He tries his best to laugh from underneath the ball gag, spit sputtering from the gaps of his mouth. You slowly peel his underwear down his legs, watching as his hard cock slaps against his stomach. You let Bruce pull the underwear off completely, and he tosses it somewhere in the room to be found later. You lean down to lick the bead of precum off Jonathan's tip before pulling away completely, allowing Bruce the room to tie up the doctor’s ankles to the bottom bedposts. You stand at the foot of the bed, chuckling darkly as Jonathan struggles against the restraints. 

“Not so powerful now, are you, Dr. Crane?” you laugh, knowing he didn’t like you calling him by his professional name, “You look so pathetic, lying there with your poor cock out for us to see. Bet you wish one of us would touch it for you, hmm?”

Jonathan stays silent, his eyes boring into yours as he yanks his arms, testing the rope’s strength. He realizes he truly can’t move or speak and that he’s entirely at you and Bruce’s mercy. Not the worst position to be in, Jonathan thinks. 

“Which of us should do the honors?” you ask Bruce, a playful smile on your face. 

It isn’t often Bruce gets to mess with the other man during your experimental sexual encounters. Still, you figure this is personal enough for him to want to be involved. 

“You can take this one. I’ve got other plans,” Bruce says, smirking deviously.

“Oh really?” you grin, “I’m excited to see those.”

You climb back on the bed, moving toward Jonathan’s lap, where his weeping cock is getting redder by the second. Grabbing the base of it, you move it forward enough for it to meet your lips. You lap your tongue on Jonathan’s tip, smearing the precum around before licking a stripe up his entire length. You pull away, letting his cock slap painfully against his stomach again. You harshly grip Jonathan’s balls, causing him to cry out muffled. You massage them as you take his length into your mouth, bobbing your head as you continue to take him in entirely. You press your breasts into the bed, letting your ass be exposed for Bruce to take advantage of as you suck off Jonathan. Bruce wastes no time walking over to you, letting his hands run over your asscheeks before he pulls your pretty black underwear off. Bruce dips his head down to flatten his tongue against your wet slit, gathering your arousal as he swirls it around your cunt. You moan around Jonathan’s cock, causing him to twitch. 

“God, I love this pussy,” Bruce pants against you, “Too bad you can’t get a taste, Crane.”

You peer your eyes up to Jonathan’s, his icy blue eyes now dark from his blown pupils. He’s glaring at Bruce, trying to regulate his breathing as his tip hits the back of your throat. Jonathan’s eyes roll into the back of his head as you fuck him with your mouth, letting his cock slam into your throat. Jonathan tries to thrust into your mouth, but you push his hips down against the mattress. You’re slobbering, and tears are streaming down your face as you take his length as much as you can, wanting him to get as close to cumming as possible. Bruce sucks your clit harshly, letting two fingers slip into your wet pussy. You groan, the vibrations sending Jonathan batty. You feel him getting close, and you blindly fumble around for the box of toys that still remains on the bed somewhere. You find it, pulling off Jonthan’s cock as it twitches uncontrollably. He growls as you find the toy you were looking for. You give Jonathan a few pumps, gripping his length as tight as you can, watching as the precum helplessly spills from him. Before Jonathan can react or cum, you slip a cock ring onto him, sliding it down to his base. He cries out from behind the ball gag, his chest heaving. You lay your head on his thigh, watching as his cock turns bright red. Bruce continues to eat you out, his teeth brushing against your clit occasionally, causing you to moan. Your breath hits Jonathan’s angry length, making him shiver. You look him in the eyes as Bruce adds a third finger, fucking into your g spot harshly as he bites at your bundle of nerves. You maintain eye contact with Jonathan as you cum, letting your nails dig into the soft flesh on his thighs.

“Lucky for me,” you trace Jonathan’s tip teasingly with your finger, catching your breath, “I get to cum as much as I want.”

Jonathan stares at you without making a sound, focusing on his breathing so he doesn’t explode into a fine mist from the overstimulation. 

“Now it’s your turn since you’ve been a good boy,” you remove the ball gag from Jonathan’s mouth, licking up his spit from his lips before he can lick it off himself.

“Open your mouth,” you demand, and Jonathan does as told.

You gather his and your saliva in your mouth before spitting it onto his tongue. 

“Now show me how good you are at eating pussy, Dr. Crane.”

You flip yourself around, hovering over Jonathan’s face as you slowly remove the cock ring. Bruce removes his button-up, laying down between Jonathan’s spread legs. Jonathan lets out a strangled cry at the feeling of Bruce’s hot mouth on his sensitive cock. You push your pulsing cunt onto Jonathan’s face, to which he happily starts lapping hungrily. You watch as Bruce hollows his cheeks around Jonathan, and the sight alone makes you even wetter than before. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, Bruce’s eyes meeting yours.

You rock your hips against Jonathan’s tongue, urging him to continue. Jonathan wishes he could bury his fingers in your cunt, but he settles for his tongue instead. Twisting and pushing it inside you, he uses his nose to press against your clit, shaking his head. You grip Jonathan’s hair, cursing at the feeling of his tongue dragging in your walls and his nose flicking your bundle of nerves. You grasp your barely clothed breasts, letting your thumbs play with your nipples through the thin lace. Bruce moans around Jonathan while watching you, letting Jonathan fuck into his throat.

“Wanna cum, you piece of shit?” Bruce pulls off Jonathan, who gasps a ‘yes,’ “Be careful what you ask for,” Bruce chuckles.

You plan on milking the doctor for all he’s got all night. You want him spent and begging for mercy. Anything to make him miserable.

Bruce takes Jonathan back into his mouth, bobbing up and down quickly and stroking what he won’t take into his mouth. Bruce allows Jonathan to buck his hips into his face. Jonathan lets out a pitiful cry as he cums in your husband’s mouth, white-hot spurts of seed shooting down Bruce’s throat. You feel Jonathan roll your clit between his teeth before sucking it between his lips as he rides his high. You growl, letting your self-control go out the window. You chase your own high, letting Jonathan torture and tease your bundle of nerves with his tongue and teeth until you finally release in his mouth. Jonathan slurps and suckles every drop of your arousal from your cunt, licking until you pull off him. 

“Lucky for you,” you pant, beginning to untie the rope bound to Jonathan’s wrists, “This next part requires your cooperation. Promise you’ll behave?”

“Yes, Mrs. Wayne,” Jonathan nods.

You let Bruce finish untying the doctor as you discard your bra. You instruct Jonathan to move to the side, allowing you to lie down in his place. You demand that Jonathan climb on top of you. he does as told, and Bruce roughly pushes Jonthan’s face into your chest. You laugh at Bruce’s typical roughness, especially when it makes Jonathan look flustered. His ass is now in the air, revealed to Bruce. 

“Have you ever been fucked in the ass like a good boy?” you ask Jonathan, your fingers in his hair.

He doesn’t look at you or respond.

“I’m asking you a question, Jonathaaan,” you say threateningly, your fingers now gripping his hair harshly as you lift his head for him to look at you.

“No,” Jonathan says breathlessly.

“Well, that’s about to change,” you say, “Any regrets about being smart-mouthed to me yet, Dr. Crane?”

Jonathan glares at you, panting as Bruce spreads his ass apart, “Not yet.”

“Good,” you smile, letting his head drop abc to your chest, “Now obey me and show me how much you’re enjoying this.”

You move Jonathan’s face, maneuvering his mouth to your hardened and sensitive nipple. Bruce takes some lube from the box he brought, smearing it against his fingers before teasing Jonathan’s asshole with the tip of his index finger. Jonathan keens around you, his body beginning to shake as Bruce slowly pushes a finger inside him. Jonathan sucks harshly on your nipple, gasping as your husband wiggles his finger inside his tight ass. He laps at your bud, focusing on trying to please you and taking Bruce’s long finger simultaneously. A second finger is added, stretching Jonathan further. The doctor lets out a sharp groan at the delectable burn. He attacks your other breast, letting his finger circle around the one he was just attached to. Bruce prods a third finger into Jonathan, and he lurches forward from the feeling of fullness. 

“If you think you’re full now, just wait for Bruce’s fat cock, baby boy,” you taunt.

Bruce twists and curls his fingers inside Jonathan, doing his best to prep him for his unforgiving length. When he pulls his hand away, Jonathan gasps from the sudden emptiness. Bruce spreads his ass apart again, his slacks and underwear now discarded as his hardened cock pressed against Joanthan’s gaping hole. Jonathan whimpers around your nipple, pausing momentarily as Bruce slides himself into Jonathan. 

“Fuck,” Jonathan shudders.

“You can stop now. I need you elsewhere,” you pull Jonathan’s head off your breasts, sneaking your hand between the two of you to his newly hardened cock, stroking it in your hand in time for Bruce to bottom out. 

Jonathan whines, collapsing on your torso as the air leaves him.

“Tapped out already?” you pout, sticking your bottom lip out at Jonathan when you lift his head by his hair again, “Too fucking bad.”

Bruce then pulls out of Jonathan almost all the way before slamming back into him, his tip brushing against Jonathan’s prostate. Jonathan screams as you guide his cock between your slick folds, his body overstimulated. You let Jonathan weakly push his length inside your soaking cunt, your walls enveloping him immediately. Bruce wraps an arm around Jonathan’s chest, anchoring himself to the doctor. His other hand grips Jonathan’s hip with intensity. The feeling of Bruce pounding into Jonathan’s tight little ass affects you directly as Jonathan pushes deeper inside you every time Bruce thrusts into him. Soon, a rhythm is established, and you’re nearly in tears from pleasure as you watch Jonathan become a withering, crying mess underneath Bruce. 

“Doing so good taking Bruce’s huge cock,” you praise Jonathan, bucking your hips with his every time he involuntarily moves forward, “You could at least try a little harder to fuck me like you want to, though.”

Jonathan’s forehead is teeming with sweat as he struggles to actually thrust into you while Bruce fucks into his prostate. You give him the benefit of the doubt- the first time getting fucked in the ass is intense. So you rock and swivel your hips on Jonathan’s cock roughly, letting him reach up to grab your breasts for leverage. He pinches your nipples, twisting them hard, sending electricity to your cunt. You pulse around Jonathan’s length, causing him to grunt miserably. Bruce’s hips are slapping onto Jonathan’s asscheeks loudly, and Jonathan’s cock twitches pitifully inside you.

“Cum, sweet thing,” you coax Jonathan, whose hair has long since lost its gel hold and has begun flopping into his face, “Cum inside me.”

Jonathan starts fucking into you the best he can, tears streaming down his face as he cums, a hoarse scream leaving his throat. Bruce is still fucking him without mercy, and you let Jonathan’s soft cock remain inside you as he whimpers helplessly, his hands gripping your sides.

“That’s it,” you praise him gently, “Let Batman fuck you silly like you deserve.”

Jonathan peers up at you, giving you the dirtiest look he can muster as you cackle, Bruce grunting as he cums inside Jonthan’s ass and on his back. 

“Christ,” Bruce sighs, pushing his hair from his face as he winces, pulling out of Jonathan’s quivering asshole.

Jonathan collapses on top of you in a mess of sweat, tears, and cum. You let him catch his breath before sliding out from under him.

“One last thing, sweetie,” you say, your tone sugary, “Sit up on the bed for us.”

Jonathan weakly pushes himself up, flipping onto his back and laying his head on the pillows.

“Touch yourself,” you demand, sitting on your knees at the end of the bed beside Bruce, “I want you to cum until you can’t cum anymore.”

Jonathan opens his mouth to protest, but you motion for him to shush, to which he tiredly gives in. You dip your hand to your slick clit, swiping at it as Jonathan strokes his sensitive cock for you. Bruce watches you and Jonathan touch yourselves, unable to really get himself up again. He instead sits behind you, playing with your tits and rubbing his large hands on your hot, sticky skin. Bruce relishes in watching Jonathan fall apart as he looks away in embarrassment.

“Keep your eyes on me, Crane,” Bruce’s voice booms, making Jonathan jump.

Jonathan gulps, reluctantly keeping eye contact with Bruce as he bucks into his hand, moaning hoarsely as he gets close. He can’t help but think about how he was between the two of you, getting fucked by you and Bruce at the same time. With that, cum shoots from his overused cock onto his stomach, and he cries out in embarrassment when you demand he get off again.

You stay like that, letting Bruce replace your hand as you spread your legs further open to allow him to fuck you with his fingers. You bounce on them, moaning quietly as Jonathan fights to keep his eyes open, his wrist flicking to the best of his ability. The night goes on, and Jonathan eventually taps out, sobbing almost uncontrollably as he runs out of cum. You and Bruce give him time alone before slowly moving him to the shower, where you help him wash off. You and your husband also washed yourselves off, assisting Jonathan out of the shower when you were all done. He’s wrapped in a towel, wincing as he walks back to the bed and curls up under the covers. You follow suit, wrapping your arms around Jonathan and soothing him as he finally falls asleep. Bruce holds you from behind, sighing contently.

“Too bad it takes doing this to humble a villain,” Bruce jokes.

“And the fact I could help was exciting,” you chuckle, “I never get to fight criminals like you do.”

“Maybe you should. You’ve got the mouth for it. Your sass is unmatched,” Bruce buries his nose in your hair.

“Mmm, I think I’m good,” you say, stroking Jonathan’s hair out of his face, “One villain is enough for me, I think.”

You and Bruce quietly watch the evil, despicable fucker sleep soundly. 

“Can we keep him?” you ask Bruce, to which he tries not to burst out laughing.

“So you can torture him more? Absolutely.”

“Awesome.”

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[yuujisuku]

you taught me how to love, a sukuna drabble

tags: fem reader, smut, LOTS OF FLUFF, true form sukuna in the heian era, might be a bit ooc sukuna bc he's not a dick BUT FUCK IT I LOVE SOFT KUNA OKAAAAY, I'm a soft kuna defender for lifeee, sukuna calls u cute pet names btw, you guys should read this when you're sad and need something to get ur mind off of the day, ily!!

Sukuna loves it when his cock slides deep inside you, nesting his cock there as he finally starts thrusting languishly inside your pussy where it feels like home to him. 

He loves being with his beautiful woman. He loves being inside you, but he also adores just resting on his massive bed that you two share. His true form takes up most of the bed, but you prefer to lay your small body across his large chest when you're both worn out from the day. Sukuna always anticipates whenever you two have your resting moments. It's therapeutic to him. 

He doesn't remember when he fell for you. It must have been when you broke down his walls, teaching him that love isn't always a weakness and that he deserves to have someone by his side. That person being you. 

You moan as he snaps his hips and strokes his cock against your sweet spot. His thrusts feel agonizingly slow and you want to order him to go harder. “Harder, ‘Kuna!” You cry, wanting to feel his cock destroy your pussy, but he just shushes you and tells you to be patient. He wants to take his time before he ruins you, he wants to feel your tight pussy squeeze his massive girth before he claims your pussy with his cock. He loves the feeling of your pussy crying against him. He loves the tears you make as you beg him for more. 

He loves you. He adores you. He admits he would kill for you. He would kill to protect you. You are his and he won't let anyone take you from him. 

“I want to feel you, my sweet flower. Let me take my time.” He says, reaching his head down to press kisses to your erect nipples, catching one between his lips and sucking them. The sensation makes you even more wet, loving the way his cock hits your g-spot. His thrusts are getting a bit faster, and your soft moans are becoming more wanton. Everything about Sukuna is massive, from his cock to his body to his love for you. You still can't believe you could take all of him the first time you did. 

The way he's thrusting inside you changes suddenly as he picks up the pace. The slowburn was delicious but you're just glad you're getting to the main course of this meal. Sukuna pumps his cock inside you vigorously, and you cry out from the delicious feeling of his cock pounding inside you. You love that he's taking care of you, making you feel good after a long day. You want to cum around his cock so bad. You know you deserve to cum, you've been so good to him lately. 

“Does my sweet flower want to cum?” He asks, “Yes!” You cry, wanting so badly to reach the edge. You appreciate when Sukuna teases you, because your orgasms are much more powerful when he prolongs them. 

Sukuna reaches down to massage your clit. Your cute thighs are shaking a bit from how close you're getting. You adore him, you adore all of him and you're just glad he's here to worship your body and take care of you. You wish you were stronger so you could take care of him too. But you realize that you already do. You take care of him by being open and vulnerable, by showing your love for him and by being loyal. If being in love with the enemy makes you a bad person, then so be it. 

Sukuna is worth it.

He takes a bite of your collarbone and you finally cum around his cock. A few more thrusts and Sukuna finishes inside you. You love the way the hot spurts of cum coat your womb. 

“Fuck! Are you alright, my love?” Sukuna says, taking your tired arm that's resting on your stomach and kissing your fingers. “I wasn't too rough now, was I?” You love the way that he sounds concerned. You would have never expected to hear something like that coming from Sukuna, the almighty King of Curses. You admit he's turning soft. 

You taught him how to love. He loves you because you helped him open his heart to you, and that realization makes you feel strong, as if you alone were able to gain the love of a man who never knew love at all. 

“I'm alright, my king. Just…tired.” You reassure him. Sukuna chuckles as he lays on the bed, moving your body so you can lay your head on his large body. You choose to rest your head on the juncture of his shoulder. 

“We should get Uraume to prepare us a bath soon.” 

“I just want to lay here with you.” 

Sukuna chuckles. His poor baby is burnt out from all the love making and duties you had to fulfill for the day, so he'll let you rest for a bit before you take a bath with him. He comforts you as he strokes your naked back, just appreciating the feel of your body resting against his. 

“‘Kuna?” 

“Yes, my love?” 

“...I love you.” 

It doesn't hurt Sukuna when you say it. It's the opposite, really. Your love feels like a breath of fresh air. It's healing to him. He's so lucky to have a woman like you by his side. 

“I love you too, my sweet.” 

He means it. 

[pixiesfz]

invaded l.wm

plot: y/n moved from man city to Arsenal and one specific man is not happy about it.

warnings: violence, talks of a stalker, more of a arsenal x reader than a lotte x reader, blood etc

He was one of the main reasons you left Manchester city, his eyes that lingered on you when in the crowd.

When you first met him he seemed like a normal fan. He asked for a photo and challenged you to a rock paper scissors to secure your top, you noticed his anger when he lost but you gave him your jersey anyways to soften the blow.

He came to every game and yearned for your attention everytime, whenever you didn’t he would then wait outside in the parking lot.

At first you thought it was cute, you had never had such a big fan well that was until he started showing up outside of the field.

You were having a coffee with your mum when you heard the clicks of a camera, turning around you saw him, with his Man City scarf on taking photos of you and your mum.

You politely waved at him and he smiled. When he next showed up it was in the off season as you went to see your girlfriend Lotte.

“You alright love?” Lotte asked as you spotted him behind a tree, how did he know you were here “Lotte we need to go” you ordered as your heart sped up, he scared you “y/n-“ “now” you cut Lotte off as you grabbed her hand and ran to your car trying to ignore his pleas as he followed you.

He stopped for a month after that but maybe it was because you stopped going out as much, he was still at every man city game and still waited for you in the parking lot where you politely smiled and waved at the crowd but he took it as you were only waving at him.

Lotte had told you to try and get a restraining order but their had never been enough evidence to even try.

One day before you announced your transfer to Arsenal you saw him again but at your front door. You slammed the door before he could try and get in but it didn’t stop him.

He bashed his fists on the door “You’re leaving me!” He yelled “your betraying me like this?” He asked.

You pushed your weight on the door, tears falling down your eyes as you pulled out your phone to call Lotte.

“Hey y/n” she answered sweetly as you sniffed “he’s here” you whispered out “he’s where y/n?” Lotte asked and you could tell her by her voice that her heart had dropped.

“My house Lotte. He’s found my house!”

“I’m calling the police, can I hang up darling just for a little bit I will call right back” she told you and you closed your eyes “I love you” you whispered in fear

“Don’t talk like that y/n” he is not going to hurt you” she said and you shook your head “I’m scared” you admitted as his fists became louder

“You bitch! I saw you at the Arsenal training grounds, you’re leaving!” He shouted and Lotte’s face turned white from the loudness of his voice “y/n I’m going to call I’ll be back”

The beep of the phone call ending made you sob again, without Lotte’s voice calming you down you were in a forensic mess.

His voice was drowned out by your thoughts and you heard sirens wailing from nearby, he did too as his fists stopped.

“You’ll regret this” he finally stated before you heard him ruffling away.

You never felt safe fully after that whilst you played your last weeks at Man City, you scanned the crowds in fear and always walked to your car quickly after a match, sometimes having Lotte pick you up.

When your news about transferring came out rumours started to spiral, until an anonymous writer came out.

Y/n y/l/n moving to Arsenal because of stalker?!

You pressed on it right away as you laid on Lotte’s chest, photos of you on walks and at cafes, one of you in your home which you moved out of as quickly as you could.

He had took these photos and now he was sending them in to make profit, your privacy for his benefit.

‘We hope y/n is well before her move to Arsenal’ it ended with and you felt yourself snuggling to Lotte even more.

You had been with Arsenal for almost a month now and it was time you versed your old team. It was bittersweet.

You loved the girls on the team and they were now your on field enemies. Lotte was the captain of the game and you were proud of her.

But nothing could stop the weird feeling in your stomach, it made you nervous and your mind was racing.

You thought it would go away as you play but the feeling was still there.

You had subbed on for Beth for a fresh pair of legs on the field on the 64th minute and it wasn’t long before you started making an impact, high giving your girlfriend as you scored a goal agains Man City.

You hadn’t even checked for the man in the crowd as you now sported the red, you should’ve maybe you would’ve seen him and the state he was in.

His eyes were baggy and it was clear to anyone around him that he would be drinking but security weren’t the best for the women’s games so they gave no mind.

It was about the 75th minute he jumped the barrier, a beer bottle in his hand, he wore your old jersey you had given to him as he stormed over to you.

You had your back to him so you couldn’t see him but some of your team mates did and the audience as they boo’d at him in the crowds, thinking he was a trouble maker wanting his 5 seconds of fame.

You looked behind you out of curiousity before you locked eyes with the man, your heart dropped before he raised his arm which the glass bottle was held in and smashed it on your head.

You dropped instantly as he yelled “traitor!” And kicked you at the head.

You had been near the sidelines so the low number of security members latched onto him as he yelled out to you but you were unconscious, on the floor with blood pouring down your face.

Almost the whole field and Audience went quiet and the TV channels who were broadcasting were lost for words.

Medics were on you quick as Lotte tan over with tears in her eyes. She looked at you and towards the man who was tackled to the floor “that’s him!” She yelled and told the security to take him to the jail.

The blood on your face wasn’t going away as more blood from your forehead and your eye fell down.

“Lotte” you choked out and sue dropped to her knees and grabbed your hand “I’m here, I’m here” she told you and kissed your knuckles “I’m scared” you cried as the medics came back with the stretcher “he’s gone now” Lotte told you, tears running down her eyes at the sight of you.

The medics pulled you up and the whole stadium was silent, the Arsenal and City girls watching you with tears in their eyes.

The game stopped.

Lotte followed you to an ambulance and most girls quickly got into their cars to follow you, not bothering to change.

You only needed a few stitches but Lotte demanded for a plastic surgery, saying you would never forgive her if she let you have a big scar from your eye to your temple.

So she waited with her head in her arms, her bright yellow captains arm band tightening around her bicep as she was joined by both the arsenal and Man city team in the waiting room.

“She’s going to be fine” Leah told her England team mate and she nodded “I know it’s just she- she was so scared” Lotte sobbed as she leaned into her team mates embrace and cried.

Both of the teams waited for you to come out of surgery, on their phones as some read articles or watches the film clip multiple times in shock of what had happened.

Lotte saw it every time she closed her eyes, the way you had no idea of the danger running towards you, the way he moved so quick nobody could stop him before the action was done.

The TV was on in the corner as the news talked about what had happened to you. Lotte watched as the reporter talked about the lack of security and how they interviews some of the games watchers, some crying.

Two hours later a doctor came into the room, shocked to see so many players waiting to see your results.

“Y/n y/l/n?” She questioned and everyone’s head shot up “yes?” Lotte stood up and the nurse nodded “she’s awake now but I think it’s best if we send people in groups” she said and Lotte let out a sigh of relief.

“You go first” Alanna said from her seat in the corner to Lotte and she nodded and walked behind the Nurse who took her to your room.

Your stitches looked oily from the numbing cream that they had lathered on top of the stitches. You don’t say anything, your eyes stuck to the ceiling.

“Why me?” You breathed out and Lotte grabbed your hand

“I don’t know baby” she replied and you looked at her, your eyes were blood shot “did they get him?” You asked and she nodded “he is behind bars and the court is allowing us to ask for a restraining order, he’s already not allowed to attend a soccer game ever again” she said and you nodded.

“Do I look as bad as I feel?” You asked and Lotte let out a little laugh “Do you really think I care about what you look like?”

“No but I care what I look like” you smiled and Lotte kissed your hand “you look beautiful, just like you always do”

You smiled “is it just you here?” You asked and Lotte scoffed “uhm actually” she started and went to the window and opened the blind which revealed the waiting room.

“Oh wow” you breathed out seeing both of your teams sitting down in the uncomfortable chairs.

“Maybe send in my national team mates, they’re most likely to tell me if I look ugly or not” you joked and your girlfriend rolled her eyes playfully at your comment.

“Actually almost all your national team mates are here” she breathed out before walking out to collect them.

When half of the Matilda’s team walked in Caitlin scoffed

“You just had to one up me from the World Cup didnt ya”

The whole room laughed at her before she laid on the bed and cuddled into your side.

“Well this will be a fun story to tell in a couple of years” you joked and your team mates laughed.

You smiled as you looked around, Lotte chating to your team mates with a smile as you cuddled into some of your younger players “I was so worried” Kyra told you and you shook your head.

“Takes a lot to take me down chicken”

[ozzgin]

Hii I was wondering if u could do a yandere Kazuya x yn x yandere Daitou I’m not sure if u do character x yn x character tho

Yandere! Yakuza x Reader Spinoff

Two yakuza men who have fallen in love with their new foreign tenant. A what-if spinoff to the original story for that love triangle spice. Happy Valentine's Day!

Content: female reader, NSFW, organized crime, obsessive behavior, violence, BDSM themes (choking), threats

Credits: My boyfriend for giving me the Daitou smut idea

[Main Story] [General Headcanons]

Kazuya is sitting on the sidewalk, checking his watch occasionally and tapping his foot. The cigarette seems to have been forgotten, hanging lowly from his lips.

"Sorry I'm late." Daitou speedily makes his way towards his friend, smiling awkwardly.

"Where the fuck were you, man? We don't know how much time we have before the cops arrive."

"Uh uh, leave it to me." The cheeky grin doesn't leave his face as he pulls out his gun and carefully but swiftly inspects the barrel and safety one final time. "(Y/N) needed some help with the mailbox. I couldn't just say no, ya know?"

The blonde man's eyebrows raise for a second, but he quickly recollects himself.

"I see. That's good."

"She asked me to show her the area tomorrow, so I'll be working extra hard tonight. Hehe."

"That's good."

Daitou glances at Kazuya, somewhat wary.

"You okay?"

Stupid question. What's he supposed to answer? Yeah, he loves waiting like a dumbass while his friend flirts with the new tenant, who conveniently happens to be a cute foreigner, who's been unexpectedly nice and relaxed around them despite them explicitly stating they're part of the Japanese mafia. Fucking hell. It doesn't help that this idiot is as obvious as a blaring, blinding cluster of ads smack in the middle of Kabukicho. He can tell from miles away that Daitou's completely fallen for her. Just like that, in an instant.

They've been partners and best friends for years now, so the natural reaction would be happiness, right? Daitou has always been one scary motherfucker. Even the seniors scramble when he's in the room, let alone women. For him to find someone that isn't bothered the slightest by his appearance or background should be a celebratory occasion. Kazuya should be rooting for him. Except, well, he fell for you just as hard. Tough luck.

The Bushido moral code, often used as guidance within their own lifestyle, covers matters such as loyalty and honesty quite extensively. A true warrior remains fiercely faithful to his master or companions. And yet, love interests are more of a grey area, especially if they happen to overlap. Who dictates the proper etiquette for this dilemma? To whom is loyalty directed towards? Truth be told, Kazuya couldn’t care less. He’s always been a man of vice, impulsive and greedy. If he wants something, he takes it.

The trouble starts when the other person is of the same mindset. Two ferocious predators eyeing the same victim.

***

You fiddle next to the tall, dark-haired man. Similarly, Daitou is avoiding eye contact, looking around in hopes of finding something to focus on. It’s the first time he’s come over since the incident. After his little mission with Kazuya, he was tasked to “interrogate” some of the remaining members to get even more names for the hitlist. He’d completely forgotten about his promise to show you the neighborhood. Hands sticky with blood, he was in the middle of his signature act of benevolence, putting the lad out of his misery.

It was around that time you decided to be the one picking him up instead, for your grand tour. Your knocks on the door remained unheard, however, so you decided to politely make your way in.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not-”

You froze in place. A man (you assumed at least based on the few visible traits left), tied up on the chair, canvas bag roped around his head. Daitou’s hands were secured around his throat. In the few seconds of silence, you could hear a muffled wheezing, as the stranger’s chest heaved in short convulsions.

“-intruding.” You mumbled, regaining your speech.

He messed up, didn’t he? Daitou sighs and slicks his hair back. He can’t blame you if you’re now terrified of him. He had to come over for some tenant checkups and you’ve been maintaining a safe distance from him during his entire visit. What can he possibly tell you? “Hey, I know I threatened to chop you up and you’ve now witnessed firsthand I’m a legit murderer, but, uh…I have a crush on you? Dinner at seven?”

You’re terrified alright, but not of his deeds. Rather, your newly discovered perversion as a consequence of the gory scene. It’s not that you relished in the torment of another. It’s the other details that left you reminiscing. Daitou’s imposing frame, the unbuttoned shirt revealing his traditional tattoos glistening in beads of sweat, his flexed, brawny arms, and large hands. You’re scared of your shamelessness. It can’t be normal. Yet you can’t stop thinking about it. Just a glimpse into this memory and your cheeks become burning red.

“I’ll be on my way then”, the yakuza announces politely.

Though he immediately stops in his tracks, and you realize you’ve unconsciously grabbed onto his sleeve. Uh oh. What now? You mumble an apology without releasing your hold. Being this close to him makes your heart drum inside your chest.

To hell with it.

“I might say something terribly inappropriate right now, but…”

“Sorry?” He stares at you, dumbfounded.

“Do you have anything planned after this?” You ask quietly.

“N-no?”

“Would you mind staying over?”

“Huh? Sure…w-what for?” His mouth is dry, and he searches your eyes in confusion.

“You know…” Choke me until I pass out and such, you think to yourself sarcastically.

He turns to face you, lips pursed awkwardly.

“You’ll have to be clear with me, Miss (Y/N). I’m not good with all this tiptoeing around and I might get the wrong idea.”

Your ears perk up hearing his final words, a deep blush now spreading over your flustered features.

“What wrong idea?”

Daitou fidgets with his glass prosthetic nervously.

“Well, uh, a man can only dream, ya know? Especially around a cute girl like you.” He reveals with a stutter.

“Suppose I’d be willing to go along with anything on your mind. What then?” You twirl your hair, gazing shyly at the floor. Not even you can believe the audacity leaving your lips.

The tall man steps before you, towering above with a certain gleam in his eye. It’s yearning. Your knees weaken.

“Don’t tease me, please. I can hardly control myself around you as it is.”

You release his sleeve and instead cling onto his shirt with both hands, looking up through your lashes.

“I’m dead serious.”

He ponders his next move with a click of the tongue, then cups your cheeks between his hands and lowers himself until his hot breath tickles your nose.

“Are you? There’s no going back after this. Can you handle it?” His voice is suddenly deeper, raspier.

Before you can respond, you feel yourself lifted and you yelp, surprised, instinctively wrapping your limbs around the yakuza. In between the greedy kisses that leave your lips bruised and swollen, you don’t notice the movement back towards the seating area.

As you pull away to gasp for air, he throws you onto the couch, flipping you over in the process so that you’re kneeling away from him. Your nails dig into the soft fabric of the sofa. You hear Daitou unbuckle his belt and you squeeze your legs together, heavily aroused. He presses his palm gently into your back, arching it. You sense his fingers grazing over your core and you whimper.

“G-go on, please.” You beg, swaying your hips tentatively. “I really can’t wait anymore.”

“As you wish, Miss.” He reassures you with a grin.

He adjusts himself and carefully makes his way in. You don’t have time to enjoy the feeling; following almost instantly is his belt looped around your neck, tightening under his grip as he pulls the ends towards him. Your head is forced back, and you groan. You can hear the leather stretch and creak over your assaulted skin, the constriction briefly cutting your oxygen intake. Hot drool trickles down your chin and your eyes almost roll back in pleasure.

“Look at my little Miss (Y/N), taking it like a champion.” He bends over and bites your earlobe playfully. “Does that mean I can be as rough as I want?”

You nod erratically.

The grip around your throat intensifies and your vision becomes blurry.

“Hey, don’t pass out now.” He inserts two fingers in your mouth, pulling you by the cheek and tilting your head to look him in the eye. “Not before you show me that you understand your situation. You’re mine. Is that clear?”

He drags his fingers downwards, aiding your response as you struggle to contract your muscles.

“Attagirl.” He concludes, satisfied.

In the morning you wake up with a dreadful soreness, and you can quickly see why. Your body is peppered in bruises. Daitou is smoking by the window and promptly flicks his cigarette out once he realizes you’re no longer asleep.

“Are you okay? I’m so sorry, I don’t know what’s gotten into me.” He begins, remorseful, and squats in front of the bed. “I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

“I will need a day or two to recover before the next time, but otherwise I’m fine.”

He beams with delight upon registering your words: next time. You can’t help but snicker at his childish enthusiasm. It’s a mystery how Daitou can switch between ruthless killer and cute partner with such ease.

Although it’s no secret, really. It’s you.

***

“Thanks for driving me home, Kazuya.”

You smile and unbuckle your seatbelt, reaching for the door handle. Daitou has been busy with work for the past days, so Kazuya took his place in looking after your needs.

“Huh?” You rattle the grab handle one more time to make sure. “It’s still locked.”

The blonde raps the wheel impatiently with his fingers. Is he to silently accept his loss? Does it even count as a loss when he hasn’t even had the chance to present his piece? Daitou has been quiet about it, but he can read that bastard like an open book. Something definitely happened between the two of you and the mere thought drives him insane.

Ah, this is so unlike him. There are few things he cares about. His pride, his Family’s honor, his freedom. Women aren’t exactly on that list, yet somehow, you’ve snuck your way to the very top of priorities and he’s realizing it just now. It’s becoming harder to ignore his maddening urge to have you. Out of all the things…He’d give Daitou the world. But not you. He can’t. He can’t.

“Kazuya? Are you listening? You forgot to unlock the door.”

“Say, (Y/N) …ever fucked in a car before?”

“What?” You ask, baffled.

“Come here for a moment.” He swiftly slides his seat all the way back and pats his thigh.

“Are you out of your mind?”

He answers your inquiry by pulling out his handgun and lazily pointing it towards you.

“I’m only going to ask once.”

You clumsily climb over the center console, straddling the yakuza with a slight pout.

“Someone’s in a sour mood, that’s for sure”, you complain. “It’s not even loaded.”

“Even I’m not crazy enough to risk shooting my Princess.” He smiles apologetically, throwing the gun on the backseat. “I thought it’d be more threatening that way.”

He removes a strand of hair from your face, gazing at you intently. His hand lingers for a second, before sliding its way down, tracing the side of your body. You shiver.

“Can you truly blame me when there’s such a pretty girl right before my eyes?” The blonde exhales and focuses on your shirt instead. “Won’t you let me prove myself?”

From this distance, despite the dim lights, you can discern his features in agonizing detail. His long lashes, his fleshy lips, currently parted, the luscious locks of hair casually thrown back. Kazuya has always been effortlessly handsome. It’s not just his good looks, but his overflowing charisma. He always knows exactly what to say and do. A devilish power to have over people, and you’re presently his victim.

His slender fingers play with your first button and cheekily undo it. You can only observe it, entranced. Your legs are weak, and your arms are stuck in place, resting limply over his broad shoulders.

“May I?” He glances up at you with a pleading expression. “I won’t be able to hold back afterwards.”

You bite your lower lip, distracted. Whether or not this is a wise choice, you can’t currently tell. You squirm in his lap and suddenly feel the pressure coming from below.

“Go ahead.” You finally confess.

He doesn’t hesitate and slithers his hand underneath your shirt, popping the rest of the buttons open. Like a hungry animal that has stumbled upon a feast, he sinks his teeth into your neck, leaving mean, wet kisses on his way down.

One hand is greedily kneading your curves, encouraged by your soft whimpers, while the other strokes your thigh in anticipation. With a bit of readjustment, he finds the right spot between your trembling legs. You jolt at the sensation of his cold fingers.

“My, you’re already dripping. How lewd.” He whispers between breaths. “Do you want it now?”

He nonchalantly slips out and undoes his own pants. You lift yourself expectantly and let a moan escape your lips upon feeling the erection throbbing right below.

“Well then, can’t forget our manners, can we?” He announces, visibly excited. “What should I do?”

You glare at him, feverish.

“Stop teasing me.”

“Come on, be a good girl. Tell me what to do and I will do it, Love.”

Why, this…You lower yourself to his ear and answer in a lulled whine.

“Isn’t it obvious? I want you to fuck me.”

Words enough to send the blonde man over the edge. He abruptly clutches your thighs for support, easing himself in before continuing with increasingly aggressive thrusts. Husky whimpers roll out of his mouth, desperate and starved.

“Oh, I’ve waited so long for this. My darling, perfect little (Y/N).” He presses his forehead into your chest, indulging in the moment. “Now say that you’re mine. Please. Please say it.”

“I’m…ah…I’m all yours, Kazuya.” You manage to blurt out, growing dizzy.

“That’s my girl. Such a good girl.”

Once the deed is finished, you flop your head over his chest, trying to catch your breath. Kazuya smoothens your clothes meticulously, holding you with one arm for support. Can’t leave a lady all disheveled, after all.

“Won’t Daitou be upset?” You point out, somewhat anxiously.

His muscles are tense for a second and he furrows his brows.

“That’s one strange way to thank me for making you come at least twice. Mentioning another man’s name.”

“I’m just…” your words trail off.

“What? Worried? You think I can’t handle it or something?”

Far from the truth. Both Kazuya and Daitou are violent, dangerous men. Given their stubbornness, you’re rather certain they’d end up killing each other. Not your favorite outcome.

“I don’t want either of you to get hurt.”

He sighs loudly.

“I’ll tell you what. Under normal circumstances, I’d probably dismember whoever had the guts to even entertain the idea of meddling with you. But…just because it’s Daitou, I might be willing to share. Nothing more than that.”

Kazuya ruffles your hair and chuckles.

“Aren’t you glad I’m such a diplomat, Love?”

“More like batshit crazy, both of you.” You retort, stretching.

[togrowoldinv]

Pour Me

Milf!Wanda Maximoff x Reader

You meet an intriguing woman while you’re bartending

Note: This is a quick little fic about milf Wanda because I love her lol. Enjoy it!

Wanda Maximoff Masterlist, Main Masterlist

You never expected to meet the love of your life this way. You never thought that the woman of your dreams would walk through the door as you poured drinks behind the bar.

But there she was. She had a quiet reserve about her. The friends that were with her were the ones who spoke to you first.

“This one here,” a redheaded woman said, “just got a divorce. We’re pouring them out for her.”

“Yeah, so pour them strong!” a blonde woman added.

“Can do, ladies,” you said.

You poured their drinks, and they tipped you. It pays when pretty girls come to the bar almost as much as it does when men do. But you much prefer when women come in. The other women walked away and left you alone with the woman at the bar.

“I’m sorry about your divorce,” you told her.

“It’s okay,” she said. You thought you picked up on a slight accent. It’s intriguing. “I’m better off.”

“I’m sure you are, ma’am. I didn’t get your drink order. What would you like?”

“Oh, um- what do you suggest?” She asked.

“I’ve got just the thing,” you said.

She watched as you got to work behind the bar fixing her a drink. It was what you always made when someone didn’t know what they wanted. Nothing special, but she sipped it like it was heaven in a glass.

When you asked her if she wanted another one, she said no. Her friends had convinced her to go out, and she didn’t really like to drink all that much.

“Your friends might end up shutting this place down,” you said to her.

The beautiful woman looked around and back at you. She smiled shyly.

“I’ll tell them we need to go,” she said, grabbing her purse.

“Oh, no you can stay,” you said. “I just need to start cleaning the bar up and I didn’t want you to wonder why.”

“Well, what if I help you?” She asked.

“I couldn’t allow you to help, ma’am. It’s my job,” you said.

“Oh, please it’s nothing. I’ve got two boys at home, so cleaning is my forte.”

“Come on over then,” you said, a smile on your face.

You walked to the open slot in the bar where you let the woman inside. She smiled as she took a rag and wiped the counter with you. She helped you clean for almost an hour before you asked her to help you restock the bar.

“It’s nice back here,” she said, admiring the office you built.

“I designed it myself,” you told her.

“I’m impressed.”

You picked up some crates filled with bottles and the woman watched the way your arms flexed under the weight of them. Really, she had been watching you all night.

“So, how old are your boys?” You asked her, trying to make small talk as she watched you move crates from the office to the bar.

“Ten,” she said. “They’re twins.”

“That’s so cool!” You said.

She grinned and showed you a few pictures of the boys. They looked like her and you couldn’t help but feel like you knew her already.

After you finished with the crates, you leaned against your desk. The woman looked at you intently.

“I should probably get back out there and close the bar,” you said, breaking the silence.

“Oh right,” she said.

You stood up and walked past the woman, but she grabbed your hand. You looked back at her and she looked like she could cry.

“Are you okay?” You asked her.

“Could you- would you- forget it,” she said, pulling her hand away.

“Hey, what is it?” You asked. You have gotten some odd requests working at a bar, but nothing this woman could say to you would be the craziest.

“Would you kiss me?” She asked.

“Oh, I don’t know if I should,” you said.

“Right. Of course. I’m sorry,” she tried to leave the room, but you grabbed her hand this time and pulled her back into your arms.

You looked into each other’s eyes before you leaned in and kissed the woman. The bar noise faded out and the only thing you could feel was her lips against yours. Her sweet, soft lips. You wondered how anyone could ever lose her, and when was the last time she was kissed like this. She was perfect.

The kiss ended when the woman’s friends knocked on the door to your office.

“I should drive them home,” the woman said.

“Ah, you’re right. It was nice to meet you,” you waited for her to fill in her name.

“Wanda,” the woman said. “I’m Wanda.”

“Y/n,” you supplied.

“Y/n,” she tried it out her tongue. Her friends called for her again. “Thank you for tonight. Really.”

“Sure,” you said. You opened the door for her, and her friends pulled her into their arms.  “Hey Wanda, come back sometime?”

“I will,” she promised, a glint in her eye.

And she did come back. She came back every weekend for three months before you asked her out.

And she stands across from you now three years later ready to become your wife. You thank goodness she walked into the bar that night.

[julilovesyou444]

ok first of all your writing is so good i’m literally in love????? anyways, could i request a tom x reader fluff with them cuddling but like tom doesn’t rly know how to do it bc he’s used to hook ups and stuff and so it’s diff for him?? i feel like that’s super specific but i think i wld be so cuteee idkk. anyways tysm pookie 💗💗💗

show me how ~ tom kaulitz

AHHHH thank you love!! you are so sweet💟 I’ll try!!! thank you for requesting, this is my first time doing one of these so I’ll do my best!! if you have a request, feel free to do it in the little thingy on my page, this was so fun !! ALSO, if this isn’t what you were expecting or anything, I’ll write it again differently, no problem ☺️

background ~ you and your boyfriend had just started dating not long ago, and there were a lot of things in the relationship that were new to him. he hadn’t been in many relationships at all, so he isn’t sure on everything, for example, cuddling and affection. you show him how :)

warnings ~ none, just fluff and cutesy stuff, tad bit of angst too

I’m Montenegrin so please forgive me if my English is messed up !

~

you had been at home all day, just picking up and relaxing. it was a pretty chill day though. you’re boyfriend, Tom, was at the studio all day. At first it was just a couple days of the week for a few hours, but lately it had been everyday for the whole day. You could tell it was taking a toll on him. He was tired and more irritable. You knew it wasn’t his fault, and you honestly felt really bad for him. When he would come home, he wouldn’t want anyone to bother him. After dating Tom for a week or two, you came to realize he was not an affectionate person. You thought that he just needed to warm up to you, but it had been almost a month. Besides kissing and sex, he rarely touched you. You couldn’t figure out what was wrong, so you tried to ignore it for the main part.

today was another long day for him. you weren’t living together yet, but he just slept over at your place all the time. you had made dinner for him tonight, not something you always did but you wanted to be nice. you were sitting on your bed, scrolling through random websites on your laptop when you heard the front door open and shut. Tom didn’t call out to you like he usually did. You knew today probably sucked for him. The fear of him rejecting you as he sometimes did made it hard for you to leave your room, but you did anyways.

You walked down the hallway to main room of the apartment to see Tom sitting on the couch, watching tv. He looked angry. The dinner you made him still sat on the table, untouched, and probably cold now.

“I made you dinner.”, you spoke softly. His eyes darted from the screen to yours. Tom looked so upset, almost as if he wanted to cry.

“I know. Thanks, but I’m not hungry.”, he replied coldly.

You took a step closer to him, almost testing the waters.

“How was the studio?”

“Shit. It was shit. Do I need to pause this or…?”, he replied rather harshly, referring to the television.

“Tom…”, you trailed off, very quiet. He saw the hurt in your eyes and immediately hated himself for taking his anger out on you. He grabbed the remote and turned off the t.v.

“I’m sorry, I’m just in a bad mood. I’m really stressed and tired and I don’t know how to get rid of it, but I shouldn’t take it out on you.”, Tom said, sounding genuine as ever.

“come here.”, you said, putting your hand out for him to take. You could tell he was very hesitant, but he took your hand and let you pull him up from the couch.

before he could argue or protest, you pulled him into a hug. you usually didn’t hug, but it felt like he needed it. You wrapped your arms tightly around his torso and pushed the side of your face into his chest. At first, his arms were just outwards, unsure of where to go. When he became more aware and comfortable, and put his arms around your neck, hands on the side of your head as he placed his head on top on yours. you could feel him relax into the hug, and it made you so happy that you were finally able to do that for him.

“I’m sorry for being rude, today was just so so bad, and these long ass days are tiring me out.”, Tom said, his voice muffled into your head. He left a soft kiss on the crown of your head.

“I know, and I’m sorry. Let me help.”, you pulled away, looking up at him.

“Help how?”

“Y’know, help you relax and stuff. Make you feel better.”

“I’m not really in the mood to fuc-“

“No, Tom, not that. Like just get into pajamas and I’ll rub your back and cuddle you, yea?”

“Uhh-“

“Please, trust me, you’ll feel so much better.”

Maybe it was your pleading eyes, or the fact that he secretly wanted to be intimate with you in this sense, but it didn’t take a lot for him to give in.

“Okay.”

“Yea?”, you beamed. He couldn’t help but smile back before playfully rolling his eyes.

“Yea.”

“Okay, go get changed into something comfier.”

He nodded and grabbed some of his clothes from your room before heading to the bathroom.

You quickly went into your room and started trying to “set the mood”. You dimmed the lights as much as possible and lit a few candles. You grabbed a bunch of really soft blankets and some water too. You wanted him to feel comfortable around you. He wasn’t affectionate or that touchy with you, and you wanted him to be.

Tom walked into your room, looking around, admiring your dedication.

“Lay down.”, you instructed.

“So bossy.”, he jokingly muttered.

He laid down on your bed as you walked over.

“Lay on your stomach.”

He groaned but turned over onto his stomach.

You climbed up onto the bed, and then put one of your legs over him so you were straddling his lower back.

“what are you-“

“shhh just relax.”

your hands found their way under his shirt, making their way up to his upperback. You began to slowly massage circles into his back, feeling him instantly become less tense under you. You gradually added pressure in places that felt a little more stiff. You began to knead the knots out of his back too. There were a lot. No wonder the poor boy was so upset, his stress was causing him to get strained.

You went on massaging him for a bit more, and you could tell how calm he was getting.

you climbed off of his back and laid on your side next to him, facing him. His face was towards you and his eyes were shut, but you could tell he wasn’t asleep just yet.

“did you like that?”, you said softly. he opened his eyes narrowly and nodded.

“yes, thank you. you don’t even know how much I needed that. I’m so tired now.”, he murmured.

you opened up your arms. Tom watched you intently.

“c’mere”

“for what?”

“pleaseee don’t fight me on this one. I just wanna hold you.”

“what, like cuddling?”, he questioned, looking doubtful.

“yea… is that okay?”

“um… yea, yea it is. its just that… fuck, this is embarrassing.”, he rubbed his eyes, trying to hide his uneasiness.

“listen, all of the girls I’ve been with before, I never really did anything like that with them. usually we would just hook up and they would leave. what im trying to say I guess, is that I don’t really know how to cuddle or anything like that. I sound so stupid. its kinda just like hugging, right?”, he rambled.

at first, you couldn’t even say anything because you could believe that your beautiful, beautiful boyfriend had never been shown love and affection like that before. he so clearly deserved it, even though he had his moods, he was the sweetest thing. You felt bad for him. That was probably why he hadn’t shown or done anything like that for you before.

“I’ll show you how.”, you responded with a small but sweet smile. his eyes sorta lit up and he picked up his head from the pillow.

“show me how?”

“mhm, c’mere. don’t make me wait any longer, im tired too y’know.”, you teased him a little. Tom scoffed before scooting over to you, waiting for your instructions.

“put your head against my chest, under mine.”

he listened to you, putting the side of his face against your chest. You took his arm and wrapped it around your waist, and he quickly got the memo and snuck his other arm beneath you so that they were both wrapped around you. He pulled you closer, forcing you to smile. you entangled your legs with his.

you two were finally cuddling. you had wanted to for so long, but you didn’t know how to ask. you could feel Tom’s slow breath blow out against you as he got closer to falling asleep.

“thank you, baby.”, he sleepily mumbled.

“of course. I’m sorry your day wasn’t great.”

“it’s definitely better now. I wish we would’ve done this earlier.”

“I thought you didn’t really want me to touch you, or for you to touch me, in this way, I guess…”

“I’m sorry, I wanted to but it was just unfamiliar to me and that kind of scared me, I didn’t want to do anything wrong and I’m not used to this kind of affection.”

“I’m sorry, Tom.”, you said, gently stroking his hair. he breathed deeply, showing you how relaxed he was becoming.

“it’s okay, I have you now.”

You continued to play with his hair as he cuddled you, and you could tell just how peaceful he was. He ended up falling asleep pretty fast. You were so happy that he was able to unwind and open up with you. You reached over to the candle and blew it out. You flipped the light switch off and let yourself fall asleep in Tom’s arms.

~

a/n ~ awww this is very sweet to me😭 I love doing these cutesy little stories, they are my favorite to write. I’m in my home country right now so I’m sorry if my posts are very inconsistent or posted at a weird time, thank you for the request!! all of the comments are so sweet too, and they make me feel a lot less insecure about my writing. have a good day !!!💋😽

[morallyinept]

Devotion - A Dieter Bravo x Curvy/Fuller body F!Reader One Shot

Written as part of my B O D I E S Series 🤎

BODIES MASTERLIST

Summary: Whilst on vacation with your partner Dieter Bravo, you get snapped in your bikini by paparazzi, causing you to question and evaluate your body shape when others start to pick it apart scathingly. Dieter however, shows you that you're perfect just as you are.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Curvy/Fuller body F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader in terms of ethnicity. Reader has a fuller, curvier body type. Dieter is a little bigger himself in this fic too, it comes with natural ageing.)

Word Count: 8.4k

Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️🌶️🌶️ “You tell me I'm doing well, and then, you try to kill me."

Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.

Triggers & warnings: Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!)/oral F receiving/Dieter worships your body/angst/self-loathing/tiniest mention of being sick after eating food, but it's not an eating disorder/people being cruel jerks online/comparison of bodies/Dieter just Dietering/we love all types of bodies in this house and won't tolerate any body shaming of any kind.

NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.

I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.

Author’s Note: It's important to me that all types of readers are represented in my work, therefore this collection of stories is written for readers with REAL bodies. However, anyone can enjoy them. Whilst this story may not specifically represent your own personal journey, it is my hope that it resonates and offers comfort and enjoyment. The body type mentioned in this story is not 'one size fits all' - everyone's journey is personal and unique, and I have undertaken as much research as I can to write accurately and respectfully. 🤎

MAIN MASTERLIST | DIETER BRAVO MASTERLIST

Enjoy! 🖤

Nestled along the powdery white sands of Bora Bora's coastline, a sanctuary in an exquisite overwater villa perches atop stilts above the glistening lagoon, a retreat of luxury and tranquillity. 

A private deck is greeted by sweeping views of the turquoise waters that stretch as far as the eye can see. A staircase leads down to the tranquil sea below, where one can choose to swim, snorkel, or simply float in the heady bliss of the ocean.

Entering the villa through glass-panelled doors, an atmosphere of understated elegance greets the inhabitant. The interior is adorned with natural materials, from polished hardwood floors to intricately woven rattan furnishings, creating a seamless blend of modern comfort and traditional island charm.

The bedroom, with its plush queen-size bed adorned with crisp white linens, offers a haven of serenity and comfort. A canopy draped overhead adds a touch of romance, while sliding glass doors open onto a private balcony, where champagne can be sipped under the twinkling stars.

The bathroom is a sanctuary of indulgence, featuring a deep-soaking jacuzzi tub overlooking the lagoon, where one can luxuriate in a bubble bath while watching the sunset paint the sky in shades of pink and gold. 

And it’s here, in the giant whirlpool tub, where Dieter Bravo finds himself, biting into the skin of your shoulder as he fucks into you from behind.

His panting growls fill your ears as he fills you deep, fingers moulding into the soft curves of your hips as he pulls you back onto him with each thrust.

“Fuck, baby!” He hollers, as your cunt clenches around him, squealing as you come and gripping on the sides of the slippery tub for leverage. 

You’re pretty sure the other guests can probably hear you in their own water villas, but you don’t care. Instead you twist in the water seeking his plush mouth as his tongue slips between your lips. 

“Do that again, come on my cock.” Dieter husks, teeth biting onto your bottom lip. 

He thrusts harder, wheezing at the back of his throat as bubbles and water spill over the sides of the tub. You scream louder; his awed laughter cajoling as you come again, and he soon busts a nut of his own, hollering loudly himself as he fills you up. 

"Yeaaaah! Oh fuck, yeah!" He grunts, sweaty forehead lolling against yours and smiling with a blissed out face.

He lights a post-coital blunt and smirks at you as he stretches out naked in the giant bed; hair a damp, ruffled mess and a puffed out pot belly that he strokes absentmindedly, a half hour or so later. He's gloriously naked and completely unabashed about it.

In fact, he hasn't put any clothes on since being here with you; the both for you encased away inside your private villa where you can rusticate like Adam and Eve.

“I hate my feet. They look like weird hands.” He says slowly, as he wiggles his bare toes and eyes the chubby, little pinkies suspiciously.  

"You have cute feet." You giggle.

"No. Yours are cute. Mine are... Hobbit feet. Look."

He nods down to his feet and you laugh. "They are a little bit. Which Hobbit are you?"

"Samwise, d'uh." He says, toking deeply.

"You look more like a Pippin to me," you grin, as you flop down beside him on the bed.

Smirking, Dieter brings his large palm down on your bare ass as you lay on your front.

He groans in delight at the playful slap rippling down your shapely thighs. The damp, sticky remains of multiple orgasms on the sheets feel gluey against your skin in patches.

“Mmm,” he grunts as you lean up to kiss him, tasting herbs and smoke around his teeth. “Hey baby,” he smiles dreamily at you with pink, twinkly eyes.

"Hey yourself," you smile, as you kiss him some more.

This is the most relaxed you’ve seen him in a while, having a sixth sense for when living in La La Land gets a bit much for him.

He gets this twitchy, deer-in-headlights look about him and starts saying things like I’ve had a headache for days, I think it’s a brain tumour, or that piece of broccoli is watching me as you regard him staring at it as he moves about the room, and launching into a paranoid diatribe when he’s mixed too many substances together and doesn’t know which way is up.

That’s when you know it’s time for a time out. Whisking him away to a private sanctuary where he can detox, kinda, and eat some damn broccoli without trying to fight and chokeslam it.

Where he can indulge in some freaky sex with you, and the cute waiter who brought him a double, when he only asked for a single, and the next thing his cock is in his mouth and your fingers are in his ass as the three of you paint the room in bodily fluids.

It’s a much needed retreat for you both, adopting the mutually agreed upon rule of no phones or internet as you truly switch off and lock your devices away in the room safe, as you spend time fawning over the intimate fronds of your deepening relationship with A-lister Dieter Bravo.

Once a washed up has-been floundering in the gross LA gutter, now a three-time Emmy winner and on his way to the Oscars. Yet despite the three-sixty turn around in his career through some clever reshuffling of his publicists and agents, he still retains that firecracker ability to go off the rails on occasion, despite cleaning up his act somewhat. 

You’ve been credited as the main reason for this transformation, a positive impact; a grounding force in an otherwise chaotic timebomb. The rarely seen lover, opting out of the spotlight through your own choice, and Dieter’s support of it.

Although he’s name dropped you in a few interviews when asked about his infectious happiness, snapped numerous selfies of you both loved up and nuzzling on his Instagram, and on occasion you’ll hang off his arm at an event in a dress that costs more than your first mortgage.

But for the most part, you do your own thing, happy to let him do his, and come back to the home you’ve both been curating together.

You met just like in a trashy Hallmark romance, standing in line to get a green juice in a trendy cafe in downtown LA, and it was love at first wow, as he swooned at you over the tip of his Raybans and grinned crookedly at you, gold earring sparkling like those mischievous eyes.

You’ve been hooked on this lewd rapscallion, with a heart of gold, ever since.

You had no idea who he was or what he did, and for a while, he kept it a secret; fearing that if you knew about his fame and bawdy past shenanigans, you’d disappear in a puff of judgemental smoke.

But you didn’t, instead supporting him and drawing a line between the fame and the reality, and became an anchor when he needed one to stop him floating too far adrift.  

Dieter has never said the L word before, but when he did with you, around a mouthful of grilled cheese as you both sat in the dark watching Humphrey Bogart movies, (often Sabrina - it's his favourite) something told you this fuzzy-haired doof meant it. 

He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing and pawing at your voluptuous curves. Burying his face in your breasts that suffocate him, and an ass that won’t quit when he fucks it and watches it ripple.

He’s always been fantastically open about how much he loves your body.

Your weight fluctuates at the best of times, growing when you’re comfy, and you’ve never felt more comfortable than with Dieter. He paints you when you’re asleep, waking to find another portrait of flesh coloured brush strokes on another canvas that’s added to the collection of worship pieces he creates.

Anyone would think he was obsessed with you, but you don’t mind the attention he lavishes, especially when he pours paint over your breasts and gets you to smoosh them into the canvas board whilst he fucks you from behind.

He’s insatiable for you, and for once you feel like you can be yourself around him, truly. Comfortable to be naked and bare with him in your skin.

You’ve spent years with your thoughts drifting inward, grappling with the complexities of your body. A regular love-hate relationship, which leans more towards the hate more often than not.

It’s no secret that you’re larger and more curvaceous than the slender figures typically celebrated by society, and the usual, skinny types that had draped off of Dieter’s arm in the past.

Your body, adorned with generous amounts of curves, dimples and soft contours, bear the marks of a life well-lived and enjoying the over-indulgence of it at times.

But sometimes, you feel a pang of insecurity flood through you; your eyes drawn to the lithe forms that grace the glossy pages of fashion magazines.

Feeling itchy inside your epidermis at the actors that flock around you both at the after parties in their tight dresses that look like a second skin, and the endless scroll of social media feeds perpetuating the allusion, that to be beautiful, you must be thin.

You feel like the “fat woman” when surrounded by slender, flat-tummied make-up artists and stylists who flood your home when Dieter has an event to prepare for. In a world that seems to worship perfection, you can't help but wonder if your own body falls short of the unattainable ideal at times.

But Dieter doesn’t see it that way.

He's continuously lavishing you with affection and love, and unable to keep his big hands off you from day one. You’ve been with him long enough now to know he’s serious about you, respectful of your choices to remain out of the spotlight and trusting that you’re not just a novelty to him.

He’s changed because of you; cleaned himself up and become a better man, and that only imbues the sense of worship he gives to you daily. 

As you gaze into Dieter's glassy eyes, you find yourself bathed in a warmth that transcends the superficial constraints of beauty standards. In his unwavering stare you see not judgement, but genuine admiration - a reflection of the love and acceptance that he has for you, curves and all.

He makes you feel invincible when he looks at you like this. But sometimes, it's hard not to let the insecurities seep in.

This vacation has been relaxing, enjoying one another in the privacy of the water villa, but Dieter’s attention span can only survive in enclosed walls for so long, and soon he’s itching to get out and explore.

He suggests the nearby market for lunch and the beach, and you agree, pulling on a suitable dress over your bikini, and rolling up his yoga mat to shove into your beach bag. 

You stroll hand-in-hand through the market, packed with tourists and locals. He stops at stalls to admire handmade crafts through his giant, dark Raybans, and purchases cheap beaded bracelets that he adds to the collection on his wrist, and rambles at you in great detail about the craftsmanship of them.

You stop for refreshing guava and pineapple smoothies from stall vendors, pose for selfies by a tropical flower bush as he picks one and places it behind your ear, and after a mouthwatering shellfish lunch, you end the afternoon lazing on the beach together. 

He gets a little handsy when he rubs sun lotion onto your skin, fingers slipping under your bikini top discreetly to tug at your puffy nipples as he sucks the oily skin on your neck.

"D..." You whine, as he pulls them in his between his fingers and whispers in your ear how fucking hot you are. You shoo him away, grinning, as he heads into the water for a swim, and you lay back to bake in the sun with your book.

You lick your lips a little while later as he emerges from the water; pale lilac swim shorts clinging to his thick thighs, unruly greying fluff slicked back. Sea water drips from his chin down his chest, that puffs out into a little swollen tummy of his own with a slot machine belly button. Dark hairs disappear into his shorts as he pulls them up, strolling out of the waves.

Dieter’s ageing in the most beautiful way possible, broad too in every sense of the word as the sun blesses him with a gorgeous bronze tan, and he catches you staring like a drooling chimp as he heads back towards you.

He flashes you those enigmatic teeth as he approaches, sand clumped around his ankles. 

“See something you like?” He grunts, as he bends down to kiss you, hooked nose all wet and dripping salt water onto your lips. 

“Maybe,” you say, his crotch almost in your face as he stands.

He's already pitching a tent in them as he smiles down at you with a razor-like grin.

“Did you know a sea cucumber ejects its intestines out in self-defense? It looks like a sea dick squirting all over the place. And there's lots of it, too.”

You laugh. “Did you see a sea cucumber in the water just now?” 

“No. I just remembered seeing it on Nat Geo. Fascinating.” 

“You’re so random, D.” You titter, dropping your book down.

"You love it." He says, wiping at his face with the towel.

"I do."

“You know-" he sits behind you on the lounger and pulls you back against his wet chest, “-there’s nothing stopping us from fucking right here. I could easily slip my cock into you right now.” 

“D, the beach is full of people.” But you groan at the thought of it.

“Yeah, but the danger, the anticipation. It’d be hot, no?” He whispers, fingers dipping into the waistband of your bikini bottoms. “Just fucking you in front of all these people and they’d never know. You'd have to be really quiet, baby...”  

“Dieter!” You hiss, bringing your legs up to stop him going any further. 

“Alright,” he chuckles in your ear, running his fuzzy chin against your face.

"Is that a sea cucumber in your shorts or are you just pleased to see me?" You remark at the hard bulge poking at your lower back.

Dieter chuckles, all waspy inside your ear. “I'm still hungry. Let’s go back to the villa and you can sit on my face for a while.”

The vacation comes to an end after another week of fucking all over the water villa, and you both find yourselves on the flight back to civilisation, somewhat more exhausted than when you'd set off.

You turn on your mobile when taxiing towards the terminal, back on American soil, and listen to the pings as your phone catches up with life. 

You scroll through emails as Dieter quietly snores beside you, mouth open and catching flies.

Smirking, you scroll through social media and stop, immediately feeling sick when you open a message from your friend titled have you seen this? 

There’s a screenshot of you on the beach in your bikini from a pap site, something that doesn't surprise you much at all - it’s bound to happen now and again when you’re spotted with Dieter, despite booking somewhere off radar.

Renegade photos of the two of you end up on the socials all the time, and you pay them no mind, choosing to abstain from looking them up. 

But what you don’t expect to see is the vitriol in the comments underneath the picture, from none other than Dieter’s fans. 

You read the words fat and beached whale and pity fuck, standing out like they’re flashing red neon at you.

Swallowing as your throat runs dry, it gets worse the further you scroll. They make fun of your body, make remarks about your face, your hair, sense of fashion, even your ankles of all things.

Who is offended by someone’s fucking ankles, for Christ’s sake?

Every part of you is pulled apart scathingly in deep conversations that go on and on, blurring out the compliments that say you’re a cute couple by the ones that say things like she carries it well.

Carries what well?

You’re pulled in, instantly scrolling to Dieter's own Instagram page and clicking on the most recent picture he took of you both as you watched the sunset on your last night in Bora Bora.

You have the flower in your hair that he picked and put behind your ear, and told you how gorgeous you were as he snapped the selfie, his lips pressing into your cheek. Under the photo he wrote the caption my heart.

Comparing how his belly in his swim shorts looks gorgeous and sexy and how complete strangers want to lick it, whereas your tummy in your bikini is branded hideous and disgusting.

It’s liked by over five million people, and you grimace when you realise there are also thousands of comments talking about your looks there too.

How your shoulders are much broader than his, your thighs the size of tree trunks. How you must crush him when you fuck.

Who's the whale next to Dieter?

They speculate that you’re pregnant. Some of them are calling you a cunt or a bitch because you’re carrying his fictitious baby.

The unjustified hate just keeps coming and coming. 

Can't believe he's with someone so fat.

She’s so gross. 

She’s disgusting.

He's fucking her for a joke.

Dude must be high AF to fuck that each night.

I've seen glory holes better looking than her face.

He deserves better. 

It’s a staged relationship. No way he’d look twice at her. 

You thought you looked pretty in your dress. You were wrong, babe. 

You feel like you’re going to throw up and nudge him awake. 

“D,” you groan.

“Mm,” he mutters. 

“Dieter! Wake up!” 

“Wha-what?” He jolts as he comes to, wiping his mouth free of drool. “Have we landed? Oh, we're here. What time is it? Fuck, my neck. I think I've dislocated my shoulder sleeping in this damn seat. Why'd you let me sleep for so long?”

His bleary eyes look around the cabin as he sits upright in his seat with wild, fuzzy hair. He turns to you and baulks. 

“Babe, what’s wrong?” He sees you crying silently into your hands. “Hey, what happened?” He reaches for your hands, but instead you toss the phone at him. 

Confused, he takes it and smiles at the selfie of you both together. “What, you don’t like it? I think you look really gor-” 

“Read the comments,” you all but choke out to him.

As he scrolls through the comments, his jaw clenches in anger; his grip on the phone tightening with each cruel word. You see his nostrils flare as he breathes in and clicks the phone screen off. 

“Babe,” he shakes his head. “Fuck that shit, man. Ignore it. Bitches be cray and all.”

“That’s easy for you to say, they fucking love you!” You shake your head and scramble up past him, heading for the door as the other passengers begin to disembark.

"I'll get the luggage then..." He huffs to himself.

Despite Dieter’s reassurances, the words have already taken root in your mind, poisoning your thoughts with doubt and reuniting you with that old, reliable friend, self-loathing. 

In the days that follow, you find yourself sinking deeper and deeper into a depressive spiral, unable to escape the relentless barrage of negativity that haunts your every waking moment.

It consumes you. Strangers, people you’ve never met and don’t know or what they look like, get into your head. You suddenly realise the power that words have.

They have jagged edges that cut into your skin and leave you bleeding, dying.

They cause your head to ache profusely and your nose to become blocked, and your eyes to itch from crying so much. You’re suddenly paranoid, of everything, everyone that looks at you. Second guessing all the time, wondering what they think when they look you over. 

You withdraw from the world, retreating into the darkness of your own mind, where the echoes of cruel words reverberate back and forth like a never-ending chorus of condemnation.

No amount of love or support from Dieter can penetrate the thick fog of despair that envelopes you, leaving you feeling utterly alone and miserable.

You cancel pre-planned events, leaving Dieter to go alone, whilst you curl up under the duvet and don’t surface for days, and you realise that ignorance really was bliss. 

You find yourself standing in front of the mirror naked when you finally brave yourself to have a shower, and are disgusted at what you see.

Highlighted before the glass, your reflection is a cruel mockery of the beauty you once believed you possessed. The soft glow of the vanity lights illuminate every curve and contour of your body, each line a stark reminder of your perceived inadequacy.

Your gaze lingers on your reflection, tracing the lumpy ridges of your hips and the soft swell of your hanging stomach, the fullness of your thighs and the rounded shape of your ass, with a mixture of disdain and disgust. 

You grab handfuls of your flesh, rolling it in your grip, shaking your head as your eyes fill with water. 

Looking away, you cover yourself up with baggy clothes that aren’t flattering. You put on Dieter's green robe over the top and belt it up and climb back into bed, sobbing. 

How can he possibly find me attractive? Is he part of it? Am I really just a pity fuck? 

The invasive thoughts begin to chip away at the solid foundations you thought you had. Crumbling them into doubt and paranoia.

Their words haunt you, spin around your eyesight for days until you're back torturing yourself and scrolling back through them all. You shut everything out except their words - you just exist in this tormented space in the bed - refusing to entertain anyone, including Dieter - with your phone doom scrolling, and nothing but self-loathing and misery. 

It lasts on a repetitive cycle for days.

You try not to eat, taking to self-punishment and abstinance, but then that only makes it worse because you inevitably get hungry and order take-out. Far too much take-out.

And then once you've eaten it all, a small comfort that is fleeting, you force yourself sick, feeling guilty and even more wretched for enjoying the food that you love. 

Until Dieter’s had enough of it all. 

He throws everyone out of the house on the eve before Oscar’s night, refusing to partake in any more fittings whilst he knows you’re upstairs hiding from him and hurting.

Forehead pulling into tight wrinkles with guilt, Dieter stares at the dress the stylist has brought over that he knows you’ll look incredible in. 

You were so excited when you first tried it on, and now he can’t help but feel as though he’s had some part in this; coaxing you to try and be someone you’re not just for the sake of the glitz and solid bronze statues plated in 24 karat gold.

But he can't help it, he wants to share this side of him with you. Wants you to be proud of him and to show you off, because you make him so equivocally happy. And for a long time, Dieter wasn't happy. Just floundering and trying to shape himself so he could fit into their moulds too.

He said he'd keep you separate from his world if that's what you wanted, and for the most part you did, and now he wonders if it's because of this - this pressure that society puts on people in the spotlight to maintain perfection.

And he can't help but wonder if he's put that pressure on you too in some ways.

It’s like cleaning out wounds with dirty fingers, festering and making it worse the longer you're hurting and allowing them to hurt you. And now, he trudges up the stairs, woolly socks making static on the carpet, with the dress dangling from the hanger over his broad shoulder. 

He misses you. Misses your smile, your smell, your warmth. Your body wrapped around his. It's not fun watching movies by himself, sleeping in one of the spare bedrooms without you.

He's given you space, but he needs you. Needs you to see how fucking beautiful you are to him. And needs you to know he's not giving up on you, not now and not ever.

“I’m not going.” You grumble with a huff. 

Knuckles rap on the bedroom door and push it open gently when you grunt at him to go away.

You watch him, with puffy eyes, as he hangs the dress bag over the closet door.

You shake your head vehemently. 

“You don't have to. But... you promised me.” Dieter says, as he kicks at the foot of the bed gently.

His zig-zag sweater is knitted and bobbly on the arms when he crosses them over his chest. Triad tattoos inked into his skin peep out at you under rolled up sleeves.

“You wanna see it?” He offers. "Might make you feel good to try it on again?"

“No. I’m not wearing it. I’m not going and that’s that.”

Dieter kneels on the bed slowly crawling up towards you. “It’s my night, baby, and I want you there by my side.”

You sigh. “I can’t,” you whimper, trying not to look at him. 

“Yes, you can. You know you can.” 

Tears fall from your eyes making warm tracks on your cheeks. 

“No, I don’t.” You say, sniffing. 

“I love you.” Dieter says, reaching your face and sitting over your thighs.

His thumbs catch the tears and he kisses your face. “I fucking love you. You’re so beautiful and sexy. God, you're so fucking sexy. You make me so hard.”  

He takes your hand and puts it over his cock that’s indeed rock solid in his shorts.

“Yes you do, see? Even when you're crying and wearing my shitty gown. You’ve always been so fucking sexy to me.”

A renegade smile tries to break free at the corner of your lips as he starts smashing down your walls with a sledgehammer. And his aim is pretty on point.

"When was the last time you washed this? It stinks," you say, looking down at the stained softness of his gown draped over you. You don't even want to know the origin of some of them.

“That’s it, there you are.” He encourages. 

“You really think I’m sexy?” You whimper. “All this?” You say, confused as you point to your stomach. 

“I love your body, babe. Every. Inch. Of. It.” He punctuates each word with a kiss over your face; on your nose, your forehead, your chin. 

“Why? You could have anyone...”

“I don’t want anyone. I want you. I've always wanted you.”

“Why?”

“Because I fell in love with you. Hook. Line. And fucking sinker.” 

“Dieter-” You choke and snivel.

He wraps you up in his arms. “Let me show you, baby.” 

He unbelts his gown that you’re wearing, leaning forward to kiss your lips gently. Your fingers tangle in his hair, silky greying fluff, as he swirls his tongue around inside your mouth.

"You taste like flaming hot Cheetos." You smirk around his lips.

"I may have eaten three king-size bags. My ass and the toilet will hate me later."

"Is that all you've eaten?"

"Well, yeah. That and microwave oven pizzas... I'm kinda floundering without you. It really is selfish of you to not come downstairs and cook for me. Baby, I'm wasting away." He pats his little belly for emphasis.

You laugh, a deep and haughty chuckle, and he smiles at that.

"You're such a doof."

"Yeah, but I'm your doof." Dieter says as he kisses you, sighing into your mouth as his shoulders sag.

He pulls away and runs his thumb over your lips.

“I love your lips,” he says, licking over them and nipping them between his teeth. “Mmm, yeah. Fuck. Love it when they wrap around my cock too,” he hums. 

You chuckle through wet eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah baby, I love how you look when you suck my cock. So fucking hot.”

“How do I look?”

“Like a fucking Goddess!” He chirps enthusiastically, and you can see that he really means it. "Better than Aphrodite, Dionysus... that-that pale chick riding in the clam-"

"Venus." You hiccup through a smile.

"Yeah. They haven't got shit on you, babe."

"Dieter," you stutter as he nuzzles into your face. He slathers wet kisses down your neck as you groan.

“I love these tits… fuck,” he groans as he squeezes them in his hands, sucking on the nipples as he pushes your t-shirt up. 

“Mmm, D…” you whine as he flicks his tongue back and forth over them, until they become hardened pebbles in his mouth making you shudder and clench. 

"Fucking perfect tits." He grunts. He kisses and licks down the deep valley of your breasts, smooching over your sternum. 

“I love this belly,” Dieter says, with more kissing, licking and stopping to blow a loud raspberry into your belly button. 

You cackle as he strokes and tickles your hips.

“Dieter!” You howl as he tickles harder. 

“See, stunning!” He laughs, watching you cackle and squirm as you try to bat him off. 

“Stop it!” You howl. "I'm gonna pee!"

“I love these little lines here,” he says, as he runs his tongue over the crinkled stretch marks around your lower tummy.

He kisses further down into the swell of your thighs, pulling your leggings down as he goes, revealing more skin for him to lavish.

"I love this freckle right here, and this one here, and this little guy over here… But this one’s my favourite, right here. Hi cutie,” he smiles as he kisses it.

You giggle like an idiot as he kisses over each freckle, mole and dimple in and around your thighs.

“And I fucking love this pussy,” Dieter groans as he runs his tongue up the slit of you over your panties.

You watch as he hooks his fingers into the elastic and pulls them down, with darkening eyes smouldering up at you from between your legs. 

His tongue runs on the skin outside your pussy lips, so close to your clit. He trails a hot, wet lap around and leaves you panting, begging. “Please, please…”

"What do you want, baby? You want me to kiss it?" He smirks as you nod, head all slack and mesmerised.

He spreads your lips and licks his tongue slowly up your slit, making you shudder as he swirls it around the bump of your buzzing nub.

“Fuck,” Dieter groans, reaching down to adjust himself. “I could just fucking come from eating you out,” his voice is muffled by doing just that. 

Your head keens back into the pillows and you groan. Your fingers rummage inside his hair, twisting and pulling, as he laps you up. 

He doesn’t shy away, nestling himself between your thighs so he can lavish you with deserved attention as he kisses all over your pussy.

Running his adept and hungry tongue back and forth over your clit before sucking it into his mouth and making those thighs quake and jerk around his face. 

“D… Let me touch you.” You whine.

“There'll be plenty of time for that later, right now I’m happy just here. Right here..." He licks again, a long fat stripe up your seam, and you pant. "I want you to come all over my face, beautiful.” Dieter urges, rutting his hips into the mattress. 

As the tension mounts within, you can feel every nerve in your body standing on edge, like a tightly coiled spring ready to burst. And then, in a moment of pure abandon, it happens. A wave of pleasure crashing over you; a surge of unfurling sensations that seem to consume you whole as you tumble through them.

He rubs over your clit, tickling it with the increasing pressure and speed from the pad of his thumb as he slips his tongue inside your hole and drinks you down. He hums around you, licking and sucking as he entices your body to just bend to his mouth.

And you do.

"Dieter! Fuck!"

Like a firework exploding in the night sky, a burst of light and colour leaves you breathless and exhilarated as he continues to lick and suck you through your orgasm.

You're a writing mess, groaning as you fill his mouth with more of your slick and clenching around his tongue as he fucks your contracting hole with it. As your body convulses with the force of your release, your thighs crushing further against his head, you feel a profound sense of relief wash over you, like a swampy weight lifting from your shoulders.

Bathed in a moment of pure ecstasy amongst the dread that’s consumed you; a fleeting glimpse into the freedom from it all. 

"Fucking love this pussy," he mouths.

“Shit... I need you, D.” You gasp, your body buzzing for him. 

You pull him out of his cargo shorts, hard and swollen in your palm. Just barely stroking across his soaked frenulum as he groans like he's been choked. The slick of his own drippings covering your fingers as you jerk him desperately.

“Fuck!” Dieter muffles into your mouth as you crush him in a kiss; teeth clashing with clumsiness at your haste to have him and cupping his balls.

You can taste yourself all over his furry lips and chin as he guides his swollen, weeping head inside your gorgeous cunt.

“Dieter!” You groan as he fucks into you, large hands roaming all over your body, squeezing, massaging.

“So fucking beautiful, baby.” He pants, burying his head into the ample swell of your breasts.

Your tits bounce wildly around his face with every thrust of his pelvis against yours, and he just whines and groans inside his happy place as he sucks on your nipples with eyes that stare up at you. 

But it’s the love shining so deeply in his watery eyes that truly moves you - a love so profound, it seems to shimmer with unshed tears, reflecting the depth of his emotion.

“God, I fucking love your body, baby.” His words penetrate the barriers you’ve built around yourself, slowly chipping away at the walls of self-doubt and insecurity that has held you captive in a cage for days.

"I love you!" He gasps into your mouth.

As you look into his earnest eyes, you see no sympathy or pity, but genuine affection and admiration. You see a man that genuinely believes you’re beautiful.

A man that can’t get enough of your curves, and welted and dimpled thighs. Your stretch marks and tummy rolls. A man who’s not afraid to put his hands on you, who wants to show you off to the world and declare “she’s mine” at the top of his grizzled voice proudly. 

You see a man who also has body hang ups of his own when he stares at himself in the mirror after hours of being preened and gussied up like a peacock for the world’s cameras.

Wrinkling his aquiline nose at his slick appearance, when all he wants to do is laze about in a grubby, green gown and broken crocs, smoke a bowl and eat bags of flaming hot Cheetos with you, whilst nestled in the comfy, safe place in your arms and cleavage where he feels most like himself. 

He twists, so one of your legs is still hooked over him, his hand on your ass as he pushes into you as you lay on your sides facing each other. 

And you wouldn’t have him any other way.

It’s a revelation - the realisation that you’re deserving of love and acceptance, just as he is.

His hands run all over your body, sliding up your back and fingers gliding down your chest delicately. He guides his cock back in, holding you in his other arm tight and kissing you. 

Dieter whines into your face as he slips in, his eyes searching yours out to convey in unspoken words how good you feel squeezing around him. 

You let your hips languidly bounce as he flexes his; both of you enjoying that heady rhythm without rush or eagerness to finish in a hurry. 

“Mmm. Oh fuck, right there… oh fuck, fuck. This pussy, baby, you feel so good.” Dieter groans, eyes rolling back. “Amazing, amazing...” He babbles.

“Tell me,” you pant. “Tell me what’s amazing, D.” 

“You. You’re amazing. Fuck I want you every which way. I-I want to fuck your ass again. Wanna have you in my mouth, swallow you all up.” 

“Eat the world.” You grin.

“Yeah, eat the world.” He smiles. “My world. You’re my fucking world, baby.”

“Fuck, I love how you grip me so tight, baby.” He wheezes, fists punched into the pillow either side of your head as his hips do all the work. 

A subtle roll and he’s on top of you again. Knees knocking your thighs open wider and sinking his cock into you deeper.

He kisses you as he slides in, filling you up with his love as you whimper into his mouth in sweet relief.

“Come on, Dieter, give me your cock. Like that, fuck yeah, like that.” You pull on his broad arms, legs wrapping around his chunky waist as his stomach slaps against yours. 

Deep smacks of skin fill your ears as he fucks you harder. He wheezes as he breathes, panting into your face.

“Like this? Yeah?” He fucks you faster, drilling in quick, deep shunts; the headboard clattering against the wall loudly. "God!" He grunts deeply. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna come, baby!"

He’s weak for you. You can see it in his eyes, the vulnerability around the blown out glass of them as he comes and bites down on his lip through a laboured grunt. Spilling warm and thick inside of you, and you feel it pool and dribble out once he softens.

“Give it to me, give it to me. Give me all your come, Dieter!” You cry as you burst again - gold bokeh filling your eyes as the heat floods through your body.

Your spine twists, your back arching. Toes curling and ears ringing as you come around him.

“Baby!” He yells as he momentarily stiffens and strains before exploding inside of you. 

He stays plugged in for a while, pelting your breasts with unrelenting kisses as he rubs his nose against your nipple, tasting the salt of your sweat on his tongue. Eventually finding your lips once more as he holds your head in his giant hands.

“How do you do that, D?” You ask breathlessly, afterwards.

“Do what?” He lays beside you, pants slowly dying down and nose nuzzling against your own.

“Make me feel so good?” You peep, timidly.

“The same way you make me feel so good." He hums out as you watch his eyes close, dark, fluttery eyelashes fanning out. "I’d probably still be in the gutter if it weren’t for you loving me.” He says quietly. 

“Do you really believe that?”

He nods, his greying hair ruffling against the pillow. “Yeah. I do. You saved me, baby.” He says, with deep chocolate eyes lanced on you. “My brain scrambles when I'm with you, but in a good way.” 

“I wish you could see yourself how I see you. Then maybe you’d believe it.” His eyes soften at you, a mixture of relief and gratitude washing over him. "I just want you to know how beautiful you are to me," he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. "I never want to make you feel like you're anything less than perfect, because to me, you are. And I know I'm a bit much sometimes... but I really do love you.”

You don't try to unpick the sweetly soft truth that pours out of him in sincere revelations, you just listen with a smile spreading across your lips. 

“I love you, D. You and your scrambly brain always make me feel beautiful.”

“From the first day I met you, I’ve always thought so.” He smiles, his thumb pulling on your bottom lip. "And I'm never wrong." He grins.

A wider smile escapes you as you lean in closer, your forehead resting against his, damp with sweat.

“I’m not gonna force you, baby, but please come with me tomorrow night.” He implores with soft eyes. “You’re gonna look so beautiful and I really want you there with me. We'll have a great time, you and me.”

Your response is hesitant, your fingers tracing invisible patterns on his pudgy hip as you struggle to find words. Unable to speak, like rust clogging in your throat as your mind recalls all the nasty slurs said about you online and the panic prickles again.

You want nothing more than to carry out stringent ablutions, cleanse yourself of the tarnish they’ve left inked under the layers of your skin with all the other jibes and taunts you’ve heard throughout your life.

It's hard not to let your body physically define you when physicality is so superficial in this world. There isn't anything that anyone has said that you haven't heard before, or said to yourself in your moments of dark masochism.

You've seen all the looks people give you, like you're an exhibit in a museum to be gawked at. Heard all the whispers and mean girl things that ultimately mean girls say in earshot.

You've spent years planning routes around rooms as you step in, avoiding scenarios where you'll have to squeeze yourself through tiny gaps or past people.

Accepting the fact that the dress you really like in the shop window won't be in your size. Slicking your thighs in layers of anti-chafe balm in advance when your friends want to go for a walk and you struggle to keep up.

And words cut deep.

You try to tell yourself it's jealousy. You try to tell yourself that they’re not real. Faceless drones sitting behind a screen with nothing better to do than tear you down, because you ultimately have what they want.

They want him, Dieter. But you have him.

A woman who is so far removed from themselves in terms of looks, that it's hard for them to comprehend and accept that he could genuinely want you and love you, and get turned on by you.

You breathe in slowly, trying to push down all the negative thoughts that try to worm their way back in.

And sometimes, it's hard for you to accept too.

But then he does things like this, makes you believe and accept it, because his love for you is real. It's so fucking real that it guts you. It's all you've ever wanted, someone to see you.

Will I have to suck in my belly? Will people see me doing that? Is the dress going to cling onto my stomach and thighs too much? What if my dress tears? What if I fall? What if I embarrass him?

But then you look in his eyes keening back at you, and he has this power to get inside your head and sweep them all away again into a dark corner.

“I promise you, you won't be alone. I'll be right there beside you, every step of the way." Dieter reassures. 

Your eyes soften at his words, a glimmer of hope shining through the murky uncertainty. "But what if-"

"No 'buts', candy and nuts," Dieter interjects, headbutting you gently. "You’re stunning, babe. Inside and out. And I'll spend the rest of my life reminding you of that."

“The rest of your life, huh?” You smile. 

“Yeah. If you can tolerate me for that long.” He snickers, eye creases crinkling. 

“That’s a pretty big if.” You smirk. 

“The biggest.” Dieter smiles, his big browns pleading silently and soft at you, and melting you further in the process. 

You nod, smiling. “Okay. I'll go.” 

“Amazing.” He croons with a satisfied yawn. “We got any KitKats left?” 

“In the kitchen, I think. I’ll get you one.” You smile. 

“Rockstar.” He mumbles, nuzzling further into the pillow.

You catch sight of him over your shoulder, his bare, round ass naked and furry as he adjusts and gets comfortable on the bed. 

You pad down to the kitchen, not bothering to dress, and catch sight of your reflection in the dark pane of the window.

A wobbly silhouette at first glance, but as you look closer, you can see the sheen of sweat gleaming on your skin, the warmth that coats it from the afterglow of Dieter’s touch. 

Your gaze lingers on your shapely form, but instead of scrutinising the perceived flaws, you find yourself noticing the things you’ve overlooked - the gentle curve of your smile, the sparkle in your eyes, the fact that you’re here, naked and comfortable to wander freely around the house again, whereas only a few hours ago you were wrapped up and hiding. 

As you regard your reflection, something is different. The harsh judgement and self-doubt that has plagued you tirelessly has been replaced by a newfound, creeping sense of acceptance and appreciation.

A small glimmer, but it's still there nonetheless.

You turn, admiring your shape with a small smile lighting you up at what you see. 

In this moment, you realise that you’re beautiful like he says - not just because of your physical appearance, but because of the love Dieter has for you that makes you see past any self-loathing.

His unwavering affection lifts you up when you sink, helping you to see yourself in a new light, as a woman worthy of love and admiration.

You come back into the bedroom and toss the KitKat on the dresser when you see Dieter snoring gently.

Your leg hooks over his puffy middle as you listen to his heartbeat. The soft thrum-thrum emanating in the pit of his chest soothes away any worries or fears. 

You feel his thick fingers twitch against your skin, a silent snuffle as he breathes laboriously, lost in sleep. 

Dieter Bravo sees you and loves you for who you are, so maybe, just maybe, you should try to love yourself, too. 

It's the last conscious thought you have before you fall asleep with him. 

“Does my pocket look okay? It looks weird, it’s doing shifty things. I don't trust it.” Dieter asks, as he looks in the mirror and fiddles with the silk handkerchief poking out the top of it. 

You can feel the nerves radiating off of him in droves. His fingers twitch, rings clacking against every surface he passes. Lips gnawed on until they’re scarlet, despite the make-up artist slicking them with balm tirelessly. 

“Your rebellious pocket looks fine.” You say, as you step fully into the room.

“Oh wow! Baby. Fuck, look at you!” Dieter turns, his whole face lighting up. “You look so good in this colour.” 

“Yeah?” You ask, smoothing down the dress that fits you like a dream.

It hides a multitude of sins in your opinion, as you turn this way and that in the mirror - you’re satisfied with how you look.  

“Yeah, your eyes really pop, wow!” He comes over to you, all perfectly coiffed curls blown out, and crushed velvet sleeves embracing you. “Fuck…” He says, eyeing you up and down. 

He makes no effort to hide it when he adjusts himself in his pants so brazenly.

“You scrub up pretty well yourself, Mr Oscar Nominee.” You smirk, eyeing how good he looks in his suit.

A crisp shirt is open at the neck revealing an abundance of golden skin you long to lick and taste. He channels Adam Ant with the eighties romance of it all; lace sleeves hanging low and unruly from his jacket cuffs, matching velour Gucci loafers on with no socks, and wearing fitted pants that finish above the ankle. 

“I’m so fucking nervous.” Dieter murmurs to you, quietly in the car on the way there. He rubs at his sternum with a large palm and keeps it there. "I need an antacid. And possibly a shit." He mumbles, belching quietly into his fist. "Fuck. I should've taken a shit before we left."

You giggle. “You'll be alright. Just breathe.” You reassure him, ghosting your nose over his. "I've got you, D."

“I’ve got you too, baby.” He promises, squeezing your hand and smiling at you. "God, you look so beautiful."

The cameras are flashing in your retinas as you walk the red carpet with him. The dress dazzles back, accentuating your curves and features, and looking at yourself once more in the mirror before you left, you were awash with awe at how good it actually made you feel.

He leans in for a kiss, but belches again in your face, and you chuckle as he laughs, embarrassed. "Sorry, sorry."

"At least your breath doesn't smell like Cheetos."

"No, but my sweat does." He chuckles, then turns to you. "Please, for the love of God, don't let me shit my pants."

You remember that feeling, coming back to you slowly as you stand tall and proud beside your silly man, who won't stop discreetly belching in the back of his throat like a toad where he's so nervous. 

Where did that other woman go? She was lost for a while, pulled into the mud, but she kept moving, getting herself out of it once again. She has strength after all. They won’t drag you under. 

Dieter is in awe of you too as you hold onto his hand, fingers interlocked with yours tightly, with his other on his chest holding in his anxiety - and nervous burps - whilst you smile beside him and support him on his big night.

You hold each other up with words unsaid. Pillars of strength when the other one needs it. With him by your side, looking at you the way he is now, you’ve never felt more beautiful and loved in your own skin.

The paps call you to look this way, gorgeous, as they snap your picture with him whilst you pose, growing more confident as Dieter holds you close, beaming at you. 

The interviewers want to know all about your dress and compliment you beside him as he talks about his film, and then forgets about it entirely and starts talking about you instead with starry eyes, when he loses his train of thought.

Interviews pop up online of Dieter just dumbstruck at you standing next to him, peppered with heart-eye emoji's and the comments flood in under the photos and reels.

Look at how he looks at her!

They make such a cute couple.

She looks so beautiful in that dress.

Aww, he really loves her!

I want them to get married and have lots of babies!!

I hope he wins tonight, he deserves it.

She's so good for him.

I wish I looked that good.

But their words, no matter how kind this time round, won't matter. Because right now, nothing anyone could say could make you feel better than he does about yourself.

Dieter leans in, his arm sliding around your curvy waist, his voice husky and pouring liquid silk in your ear. 

“Later on, I’m gonna fuck you in this dress, baby.” He promises, with a shit eating grin that’s just as gleaming as the devilish gold hoop twinkling in his ear.

“You better, it’s Valentino.” You smirk. “Gotta get your money's worth.”

Crookedly grinning at you, he places a lingering kiss on your glossy lips as the paparazzi go wild, snapping pictures of Oscar Nominee, Dieter Bravo, affectionately worshipping his Goddess for the whole world to see.

I really hope you enjoyed reading this story with Dieter, and welcome your comments/thoughts. I'd appreciate a re-blog if you liked it so others can find it on their dash to read and enjoy too - thank you very much! 🖤

BODIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

DIETER BRAVO MASTERLIST

[supercap2319]

It's my birthday. So I wanted to ask for one of those NSFW imagines that you do...

Steve Rogers surprising y/n on his birthday (the newest member of the team) by letting him eat his cake (his ass).

Y/N's birthday wish had come true about six weeks before his actual birthday was due. It was like something out of a movie where the main character lands their dream job, or in Y/N's case, his dream team.

Ever since the Avengers first appeared together to save the world, Y/N wanted to be a part of the team. He studied hard in school, played sports, and even the occasional computer classes, but what got him the job was the powers he developed. The power to control the very weather all at his fingertips. Nick Fury was impressed, and after a trial run, Y/N was officially the newest member of the Avengers.

Everyone was welcoming. Sure, Tony liked to pick on Y/N because he was the rookie of the team, Steve, aka Captain America, always had his back. Y/N couldn't help but fall for the Captain. He was so nice and kind. He showed Y/N the ropes on missions, and he never lost his patience with Y/N. Even when the situation called for it.

Y/N and Steve were an inseparable team after the first few weeks. Steve would teach Y/N everything he knew from battle techniques to planning and strategizing. In return, Y/N had shown Steve how to work a phone and the internet. What memes were and social media. That's probably how Steve found out it was Y/N's birthday.

The young Avenger didn't want to make a spectacle of his birthday, so he didn't bother telling anyone about it. Y/N figured he could spend a quiet Friday night alone with some Netflix. He was wrong.

Y/N enters his room to find Steve waiting for him on his bed with a small smirk on his face. He wore a blue bathroom and fuzzy red slippers. This was so different from the "old man clothes" as Tony liked to call them that Steve usually wore. His blue eyes were shining with a hidden mischief. "Hey, Y/N."

"Hey, Cap. What's up? How did you get into my room?"

"J.A.R.V.I.S. let me in. Hope that's fine with you?"

"Of course. Did you need something?" Y/N asked, eyebrows raised at Steve's attire.

Steve stood up and walked towards him. Y/N frowns and gulps as Steve gets closer until he can see the flecks of black in baby blue eyes. His lips are pink and plump. So full and shining with some sort of coat. Probably, lip bomb. "It occurred to me that today was your birthday today, and you didn't tell anyone. Why?" Steve looks at Y/N.

Y/N blushed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. "I didn't want to make a big deal about it."

"You should. We're a team now. We celebrate everyone's birthday together. But we can tell the others tomorrow. For now, I have a cake for you." Steve smiled, but he was also blushing very hard, which made him look even more adorable and innocent than he usually did.

"You baked me a cake? You didn't have to do that."

"It's a different kind of cake. And I need you to frost it for me. I can't reach back there."

Before Y/N could ask what that meant, Steve dropped his robe and revealed he was wearing a patriotic thong. Captain America turned around, and the floss of the fabric was so tight around Steve bare ass crack and made his white boy cheeks even bigger than they were and believe Y/N, he's seen Steve in his suit. He knew those glutes would be big.

"Steve, what are you doing?" Y/N blushed, but he couldn’t deny he's actually fantasized Steve doing this just for him. Showing him America's ass.

"I told you. I want you to frost my cake with your tongue. Maybe you'll give me your frosting?" Steve pulled the thong to the side of his cheeks and exposed his pinkish hole. It winked at him. "Please, Y/N?"

Y/N looks shocked. Was Steve really giving him his ass for his birthday? He must be dreaming, right? He pinched himself. He wasn't. This was real, and so was Steve. Steve wanted it. The pinnacle of American dreams was right in front of him, shaking his tight ass.

The young Avenger walked towards Steve and bent him forward against the bed as Y/N spread those golden boy ass cheeks and began to lick Captain America's ass like a dying man.

[7ndipity]

Hiii! This is my first time requesting for you so I’m a little nervous but can you please write a OT7 reaction to reader telling them to watch over her while she does her work, because I get distracted a lot and I need someone to verbally force me to sit down and do my work or I won’t finish it, so if you can, can you do them reacting to reader just telling them to force her to do her work.

Asking Them To Watch Over You While You Work

Ot7 x Reader

Warnings: none

A/N: Thanks for sending this request! Tbh, I’m kinda the same way, I wish I had them to help me focus, lol! Hope you like this!

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin: I feel like he would understand your request pretty well, but he would want to have a little bit of fun with it, making a big show of literally sitting you down and hyping you up like “You need to focus, okay? You can do this! I believe in you!” 👍

Yoongi: He would be pretty chill about it, bringing his laptop so he can sit next to you and work on his own projects while you worked on yours, offering occasional encouragement whenever he notices you getting distracted or frustrated.

Hobi: Slightly confused at first, but once he catches onto that you just need someone to hold you accountable and keep you focused, he’s all over this! He basically becomes your personal cheerleader, checking in every now and then and offering encouraging words when you need them!

Namjoon: I feel like he would want to do more than just push you towards your work, he would basically become your part-time work/study assistant, helping go over your notes and doing his best to keep you focused.

Jimin: Similar to Joon, I think he would also want to help you where he can, but he would be a little more laid back about it, mainly just sitting with you or nearby. The type to reward you with kisses when you finish each task/assignment😚

Taehyung: Like Hobi, he would turn into your hype man, wanting to give you space to focus, but coming by every few minutes to check on you and make sure you’re still working, telling you each time that he’s proud of you and that you’re doing great!

Jungkook: He would physically pick you up and sit you at your desk, lol! Seriously tho, he would be really good at this, I think. His own curiosity would get the better of him and he would want you to teach him a bit as you’re working to help keep you engaged(this is a trick I use for myself)

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[beskarandblasters]

My Rose, My Pretty Flower

Abby Anderson x F!Reader

Ways to help Palestine

Main Masterlist | Abby Anderson Masterlist

Summary: While traveling to Santa Barbara, you and Abby stop in an abandoned house and hit the jackpot; finding a brand new rose toy.

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: canon divergent (no Lev), reader is able-bodied, pretend the rose toy existed before the Outbreak, sex toys, oral sex, fingering, squirting, pet names, no use of y/n

“We should stop soon. It’s getting dark,” you say, stopping and putting a hand on your hip, wiping the sweat off your brow.

“We could hole up in one of these houses,” she says, gesturing to the street of abandoned houses you’re about to turn onto. 

You’re almost to Santa Barbara. The grueling, multi-month-long journey is about to wrap up. Only a few days left to go. But for now, you’re tired. Your feet hurt. And you’re pretty sure you could fall asleep standing up.

“Sounds good to me.”

She draws her gun, crouching down, and approaching one of the houses on the corner. It’s a small house, one level. It looked like a cute starter home for a family or a young couple before the Outbreak. 

“Stay vigilant,” she says,” slowly opening the door. 

There doesn’t seem to be anyone here, nor any infected. And after a sweep through of the house, she confirms that you two are indeed alone. 

You pick up a picture frame on the kitchen counter and look at the couple in the photo– a young man and a young woman. You try to not think about their life here, what they were like, where they were on Outbreak Day.   

“Ready for bed, baby?” Abby asks, her strong arms wrapping around you. 

You set the photo down and lean into her. “Yeah,” you sigh.

“I raided the bathroom and took some stuff,” she says, letting go of you and leading the way to the bedroom. 

“Oh yeah? Got anything good?”

“Bandages… dental floss.”

“Not bad.”

“And I found something else… in the nightstand,” she says, sitting on the edge of the bed and opening the drawer. 

“Oh?”

She holds out a pink box with a rose on it. Under the clear plastic, there’s a rose inside the box, too. And when you take it in your hands see that it’s not just any regular rose– it’s a sex toy. The box reads:

ROSE TOY CLASSIC SUCKING VIBRATOR

-10 Massage Modes -Waterproof -Rechargeable -Easy To Clean

But the most important thing the box says is:

-Comes Fully Charged

“What are you suggesting?” you smirk, handing the box back to her. 

“How about you put on a show for me, pretty girl?”

“You don’t have to tell me twice,” you say, kicking off your shoes and pulling your shirt off over your head. You strip yourself nude and get on the bed, reveling in the feeling of lying on something soft and not on the forest floor for once. 

You spread your legs as Abby opens the box, turning on the toy to test out the different settings. She gets in between your thighs, lowering her head to hover in front of your pussy. It’s already getting wet but she licks your clit, moaning at you and your taste. After getting you properly lubricated she takes the toy on one of the lowest settings. Your breath hitches in your throat. You’ve never felt something like this before and Abby knows that.

“Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow,” she coos, watching your legs flex and your chest heave up and down. “Besides, I want to tease you anyway,” she adds with a smirk. 

A shiver runs down your spine. You feel yourself already getting close. But wait, how is that possible?

Almost as if she senses that she turns down the toy to a lower setting, not letting you cum just yet.

“Not so fast,” she says.

You whine in response, your back lifting off the bed. 

“I said I wanted to see a show, pretty girl,” she reminds you, bringing her fingers to her mouth. She moistens them for you but doesn’t give them to you just yet. She wants you to cum with just the rose first. 

“You’ll get my fingers when you cum, baby,” she says. 

But for that, you need more, a higher setting. 

“Please,” you whimper, “I need more.”

“Well… Since you asked nicely like such a good girl,” she says, turning up the toy by two settings. 

You grip the sheets, squeezing with your might as your orgasm threatens to spill over. It’s one like you’ve never felt before, intense and euphoric. Your cunt clenches around nothing and your core muscles spasm as waves of pleasure wash over you. 

“That’s a good girl,” she says, watching your eyes close and your mouth open into a soft O. 

She gives you time to ride out your first high before turning down the toy again and sliding in her fingers. Your face feels hot. Stars dance in your vision. That was amazing. And she’s about to do it again, but this one is going to be even more intense. 

Her fingers curl against your g-spot, expertly making a come here motion. The toy keeps stimulating your clit, working you up to your second orgasm. You’re already feeling spent but you want this one more than anything. Besides, you’ll have heavenly sleep after this is all done. 

“So wet for me, baby,” she says, fingering you faster. Her other hand turns up the toy, letting you get used to a particular setting before turning it up again and again. And finally, you’re at the highest setting. Wetness seeps out of you and runs down your inner thigh. The small bedroom is filled with wet, squelching sounds of your pussy and the strong vibrations of the toy. 

“Give it to me, pretty girl.”

And then you cum for the second time. This one was harder and wetter. So wet that Abby gasps and says, “Baby, you squirted.”

She sounds excited, continuously curling her fingers inside you and lowering the toy until it’s turned off. She pulls her fingers from your cunt and lowers her head in between your thighs, lazily lapping up every last drop of your spend. 

You close your eyes, letting her take her time until she lies on the bed next to you, pulling you close. 

“Go to sleep, baby. You earned it after that.”

“Already on the way,” you yawn. 

“Love you,” she whispers. 

“Love you, too,” you whisper back, drifting off to sleep in her arms. 

-

The morning light seeps in through the window, hitting your eyelids and slowly waking you up. You rub your eyes and sit up, looking over at Abby sleeping soundly beside you. 

You should probably get a move on, taking advantage of all the daylight you can. But in just a few days you’ll be with the Fireflies and it won’t be just the two of you anymore. 

So for now, you lie back down and enjoy it being just the two of you for once. 

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics & @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[sunflower-lilac42]

✧ 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 | connor bedard ♔

summary: after a blackhawks win, connor shows up at his girlfriend's apartment like every other game night.

warnings: celebrating christmas too early

notes: ah my first connor fic. i love him so much. justic for connor fr.

nhl masterlist | main masterlist

Dating the first overall pick was an experience, to say the least. Y/n and Connor had been dating since they were sixteen and she was by his side every step of the way through his hockey career. 

When they knew where Connor was going to be drafted, the two of them got this sinking feeling in their stomachs. They didn’t want to do long distance, it would be too hard on both of them. However, there was something that y/n never told Connor. 

She applied to the University of Illinois-Chicago on a whim. She didn’t think she would get in, so she didn’t see the point in telling her boyfriend about it. Yet, when she got her acceptance letter, she was troubled. She had never seen the campus, knew nothing about Chicago in general, she didn’t know what classes she would have to take. 

But, when she thought about the other schools she had looked at, none of them even compared to being just down the street from where Connor would be every day that he wasn’t on a road trip. None of them were worth being so far away from her boyfriend. 

A week after she got her letter she sat Connor down to talk. Connor didn’t like the way y/n sounded when she said, ‘I need to talk to you’. 

✧༺✎༻∞

“Con, I need to talk to you.”

Connor’s eyebrows furrowed and sat down on y/n’s couch holding her hand as y/n looked around anxiously.

“Are you breaking up with me?”

“What, no, of course not. There’s just something I have been keeping from you.”

“I don’t know if I should be relieved or more nervous now.”

Y/n laughed nervously, “No, uh. You know how we were talking about how we didn’t want to do long distance?”

“Yeah?”

“We might not have to.” Y/n handed the envelope to her boyfriend and watched his reaction nervously. 

Connor had a confused look on his face as he looked at his girlfriend and then at the envelope. He opened and his face was met with the UIC causing him even more confusion. 

“You applied to Chicago?” Y/n just nodded her head and urged him to keep reading. 

He only had to scan a few lines before he was standing up and looking at the girl, “You got in?”

“Mhm.” Before he celebrated he contemplated the situation. He didn’t want her to move to Chicago just because he was going to be there. He loved her yes and he wanted her to be there, but he didn’t want her to give up her life for him. 

“But what about-”

“‘But what about’ nothing, Connor. I love you and I want to be with you. And if that means going to Chicago with you, I will. Chicago has something no other school doesn’t.”

“What?”

“You, you big dope.”

✧༺✎༻∞

Connor was forever grateful that she kept that secret from him. If he knew that she applied to UIC and didn’t get in, he would be devastated. However, there were ups and downs to being there in Chicago. Connor rarely saw y/n despite her being just down the street from the UC. 

Any time he had an off day, she would have class and anytime she didn’t have class, he would have practice or a game. It was the luck of the draw when they got to be with each other. At points in time, they both thought it would’ve been better if they just stayed in their respective cities. 

Overall, those cons were outweighed by the pros. When Connor had a rough day he could literally walk to her apartment to the UC, though he never did. And when y/n had her rough days, she would call Connor and they could be at each other's places within minutes. Though most days when they had a night game, or any game really, Connor ended up staying at her apartment. 

That was what happened tonight. Y/n was watching the game from her apartment, she had lucked out with only getting one roommate and she had gone home for the break. It was the Friday after Thanksgiving and y/n didn’t particularly want to go home, spending time with Connor was enough for her. 

They had played the Leafs and Kevin scored the overtime goal with an assist from Connor. She had cheered so loudly that she was glad that almost everyone had gone home for the break. She watched post-game live including the interviews and everything that went along with it. When it was done, she turned on the Vancouver game as background noise while she added some food for her and Connor along with some cookies for later. 

She truly had no way of knowing when and if Connor was coming back tonight, but she knew him. She sort of blacked out from the end of the game to when Connor came in through the door, causing her to jump when she heard the sound of his bag against the floor. 

“Hey, Con.”

“Hi.” He took off his suit jacket and his hat, his cheeks rosy from the of Chicago. 

“Thought you guys would be celebrating.” Y/n turned around from where she was stirring at the stove.

“They offered but cuddling with you was much more tempting.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and dropped his head onto her shoulder, “Whatcha making?”

“Soup and I went out and got a bunch of stuffing, because why not.”

“Thank you.” She turned her head and kissed his cheek, “Always.”

Connor went to shower and change as she finished making their food. The two sat and ate dinner while watching the game, talking about whatever came to mind. Connor was going to go shopping with her tomorrow even though Black Friday was today. They were going to buy Christmas decorations so they could decorate her room and apart of the main area of the apartment. 

When they were done and the game was done, they climbed under the covers of her bed, Connor wrapping his arms around her as she laid her head on his chest. 

“I’m proud of you.”

“For what?”

“You’re OT goal assist. Con that was amazing.”

Connor shrugged and tightened his hold.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And that’s how almost every game night is spent for Connor and y/n. Those nights were their favorite.

[chrollohearttags]

idk if u have anymore locked and loaded away but can we get some more musician!eren hcs/traits…just a crumb even. im on the side of the road shaking my cup🙏🏾

oh babes, I got more than I know what to do with. Gather round and I’ll share with you all my never ending lore for the loml. 🤍

EJ is a clown. His favorite pastime outside of music is being an S tier menace. He loves picking at everybody 😭 (y/n), Jean, Mika, his own MAMA..nobody is off limits when he gets started. He is an asshole and proud of it. (he once told Mika she was jealous of him because she was bald headed and he wasn’t. Sis tried to break his nose but then remembered she needed him for a performance that night 😩)

he can play over 10 different instruments and proficiently at that! His main is guitar and drums but he’s naturally gifted so any instrument he puts his hands on, he can learn fairly quickly.

he won’t attend awards shows unless his whole crew is invited too. Don’t matter if it’s the Grammys, BET, VMA’s..if his whole team isn’t there, he’s not going. And they definitely forget it if (y/n) isn’t on the list.

he HAS to have at least an hour before shows to be completely alone and decompress, otherwise, he’ll be messing up all night. He has severe anxiety so it makes it hard for him to concentrate if too much is going on before hand. He’ll spend the time meditating or listening to music and smoking.

his ultimate goal is to one day start his own label. He wants to work with more female artists because he feels there are “a lot of dudes using women for clout but never wanting to put them on.”

also adding to that, Eren swears he is not a dancer but decided to let (y/n) do choreography for his latest song and he ended up liking it so much, that he incorporated it into his latest performance.

(haven’t quite delved into this yet so not giving away too much!) but there is one person who eren credits his musical career to and for pushing him to go for it. His exact quote: “there’s so many people who’ve helped me throughout my journey. That I have to thank for getting me this far but as for who really made this possible? Well..she’s no longer here and I wish she was. I wish she could see how far I’ve come and I only hope that she’s smiling down on me. I hope I made her proud.”

he lovessss sitting in on (y/n)’s practice sessions! Not even on some sexual shit, it truly fascinated him seeing his girl do all of these intricate pole tricks without falling or missing a beat. He realizes how much work goes into learning it and respects your talent. He even posts vids to his Instagram story, showing you off.

during the time of the [p word that shall not be named] he and Armin put their DJ’ing skills to good use and entertained their fans. They started a little thing on Instagram live called “Club Passion” where they would dress up in these cheesy ass fits, pretend they were hosting events and have people join in the live. They’d play music, be drinking and even host twerk contests where they’d CashApp the winner a prize. (A very unserious duo 😭)

for the more devious of the traits, he’s a demon and a half when he drinks. He has zero limits or shame. Including in the bedroom. RIP to (y/n)’s cervix cause he has no control.

he is a habitual bed/headboard breaker 😩🥴 do with that what you will.

he doesn’t believe in cheating or open relationships, but he’ll gladly let you share him with your girls and vice versa. (Niesha’s definitely his favorite but he won’t tell his best friend that 🤭) And if he’s feeling extra deviant, he’ll let you pick a fan of his to do some thangs with. “As long as she doesn’t go running her mouth, I’m with whatever y’all wanna do.” He definitely has a few videos of you guys’ escapades saved in his phone. (the NDA’s stay ready!)