#like. willy *knows* he's an asshole

[autisticrosewilson]

Trans fem Jaybin asking Bruce if she can visit Willis in prison because she wants to know what he would have named her if she was born a girl and that's how she finds out that Willis was murdered and despite knowing from day one Bruce just... didn't tell her.

[randomnameless]

I think there's another element that just screams why Wilhelm's meritocracy failed. Nemesis and the Elites weren't just viewed as heroes, their weapons were viewed as sacred and people followed their example by killing and stealing to increase their own power. The Empire were viewed as zealots by their people, people which Wilhelm then took into his power. These people believed in an ideology that seems to have viewed Agarthans as gods, their belief systems are going to align with that ideology and while some might have bent the knee and some might have fled, others might have just paid lip service to the new religion in order to maintain their own power (much like Lorenz says they do in the present).

This whole discussion also seems to make what Wilhelm did not much better than Edelgard's "I'll conquer lands and kill any leaders who don't bend the knee," and irony is coming to bite Rhea in the ass by a descendant who champions the same beliefs she fought against But on the other hand, their intents were different. Wilhelm wanted unification to end the bloodshed and stealing, bringing peace to Fodlan. Edelgard broke the peace to bring those ways back and increase her own power, completing the moral decline and becoming everything the Empire was supposed to be against.

TBF,

Both Wilhelm and Supreme Leader start wars of conquest, so there are some similarities, but as you said, intent was different.

Which might explain why there were - if we follow this theory/hc - why there was no civil war in WoH Adrestia, when Tru Piss ends up with dealing with "unrest", in the Tru Piss situation, instead of appointing Leopold as the governer of Leicester, Willy could have appointed Gloucester Sr and conscripted part of his troops in the Adrestian War Effort.

The "bend the knee or die" behaviour from Supreme Leader comes from her wish to be the only, well, "Supreme Leader" of Fodlan and/or as explained in FE16, try to replace Sothis/the CoS in Fodlan by herself.

I guess in the WoH's situation, it was either "side with us or with nemesis", with the added twist that siding with Nemesis meant being an inherent threat to Adrestia (if might makes right), the CoS's teachings and Nabateans themselves - I'd say Willy was paranoiac but who wouldn't be if they had to deal with this situation : siding with Nemesis means possibly learning how to make Relics and that's, imo in this theory, the one thing Wilhelm wants to avoid at all costs.

Like, siding with Nemesis would have meant those people want to continue to kill/pillage/burn because "they're strong so they can do it", and possibly turn against Wilhelm's trusted allies (if not more! like, possibly, his own son!) to turn them in shiny weapons to become even "stronger".

In the end, it doesn't matter, because subjugation is subjugation, but if Willy doesn't want to MAGA - or isn't as obsessed with it as his most well-known scion - but only to kill Nemesis and make Fodlan a peaceful land where Nabateans can exist, I could see Adrestian occupation being "lighter" then, say, what happens in Firdhiad during AM.

Thinking about this though, I wonder if Rhea mediating and ackowledging the Kingdom's existence isn't a way to "make up" for Willy's subjugation - sure maybe he wasn't the one to consider northerners as subhumans, but this situation still happened because Adrestia conquered those lands and those people - and restoring their autonomy to those people, with, of course, the constant presence of the Church to "guide" them in the right course of action, and not start to, again, kill/pillage/burn because they're stronger and maybe find the sleeping Cethleann to vivisect her.

Of course it's ironic, because even with the Western Church, it's the Kingdom who supports and helps her and more or less adopted Willy's ideas about what a noble should be (not someone holing themselves in the capital!) when Adrestia fell apart in 7 years !

---

Willy's conquest is fascinating to me, because no matter how hard I try to spin it, there's still the issue - not tackled by the Fodlan games of course - of Nabateans and Relics : humans, during the WoH, know how to craft Relics, and what material they should use (I doubt Rhea'n'the Saints used hair dye for fun) - how do you remove this "knowledge" from humans, especially the ones following Nemesis who were depicted as greedy and power hungry?

Even if he might have had the best intentions (restore peace to the land, and support the Nabateans) Wilhelm had to deal with this issue -> which ultimately led to the "bend the knee (and remain ignorant about relics) or (possibly learn how to make relics and) die", it sucks, but it might have been the solution he found to solve this riddle.

So, in a way, given how the Empire was founded on a "bend the knee or die" as all Empires are, imo, Adrestia was bound to decline, even if I think Nabatean influence would have slowed it tremendously, and, say, made Enbarrites not consider Northeners as livestock (so maybe everyone could have coexisted "peacefully" a bit longer).

As for the people who joined Willy (thus bent the knee) -

Given how Adrestia at inception was nothing and the Empire had no Relics nor crested kickass warriors like Nemesis (sure, Seiros is a thing, but there's 1 Seiros and 4 Saints for 11 Elites and Nemesis!), I wonder if the people who joined Adrestia at first weren't joining the "weakest" horse, thus had to let go of their "might makes right" motto.

I also think the CoS helped a lot to smoothen things between conqueror and conquered - maybe by offering relief and helping rebuild the conquered lands, something that would be impossible in Nemesis' land (why the winners, aka, the strong, help the weak?) - and the Empire banked on the CoS's good PR to be more easily accepted by the people?

As for the ones who paid lip service, well, they might have existed lol, but I'd say, learning Nemesis keeps on losing (even if he is the strongest) when he's fighting someone who doesn't even have a relic (tfw people think Wilhelm is the one fighting Nemesis and not Rhea!) might have made them reconsider the Agarthan's pov and what they were really believing in - if Gods gave Nemesis'n'co their weapons, why is a loser like Wilhelm, not blessed by the same "gods", able to defeat them?

Maybe the God from the Seiros Faith is stronger than the Gods who blessed Nemesis? So the Seiros Faith is the real deal?

[calamity-unlocked]

Written for @babacontainsmultitudes <3

You fold your hands together, let them rest on your lap, and inhale and exhale deeply. You can do this. You can do this. It’s a mantra you repeat to yourself, as surely and studiously as you once told yourself everything was going to be O-A-K, as fervently as you once begged yourself to believe your childhood wasn’t slipping away from you and turning into an adult didn’t make everything so complicated. Today, you will try to set aside the burden of adulthood and channel your youthful dreams and wishes again, hoping they will be the key to unlocking a particular kind of magic you’ve struggled with for too long a time. Today, you will become a wolf.

Or, Sparrow reflects on his magic, his family, and himself, and why none of it seems to be working out.

Cute bonus thing under the cut ;)

Here is a little sad love wolf doodle from my amazing wonderful precious girlfriend <3 They made this while I was being dramatic over making a summary for this

(@themissakat ily <333)

[innytoes]

Winter/X-mas Prompts #7: “If you’re cold they’re cold, let them in.” - “That’s a raccoon.” Luke pairing of your choice

He's neck deep in a song, music and melodies flowing through his brain, out his pen, but the lyrics aren't coming as easily as he would like. His humming and mumbling had long since driven Alex and Bobby away, leaving only Reggie (who was hyper-focussed on trying to make a friendship bracelet for Julie) and Willie behind in the living room.

Willie was fiddling with clay, sculpting tiny little antlers for his latest long furby monstrosity. It was snowing outside, the fake fireplace was going (Alex did not trust them enough to buy a house with a real fireplace, and he was right to), and all in all it would be a perfect cozy afternoon if he weren't stuck on this damn chorus.

"Oh hey," Willie said suddenly, breaking the not-quite-silence-because-Luke-wouldn't-stop-humming-the-same-four-notes. "Kitty's here."

"Hmm?" Luke asked, not looking up from his songbook. Maybe if he swapped the words around, it would be easier to find a rhyme with 'forget'.

"The stray I've been feeding. Don't tell Alex and Bobby." Yeah, Lex and Bobbert were all weird about rabies and fleas sometimes.

"It's freezing outside," Reggie said, worried. "Maybe we should make it like a little box or something, with some warm blankets?"

"If you're cold, they're cold, let them in," Luke muttered, half-remembering some kind of commercial that had been on TV a lot when he was a kid. Yeah, 'forget' worked way better as a final word.

He ignored the chill of Willie opening the sliding door, making cooing noises at the stray cat until it apparently came inside. "Do you want some smoked salmon, baby?" he asked. "Do you want to be a bougie boy? Yes you do!"

With the chorus finished, he could go on to the part where he'd switch off with Julie, maybe with Reggie too. He ignored Reggie whispering excitedly that Kitty was 'just so cute', ignored Willie sitting back down, ignored the little smacking sounds of a cat eating the last smoked salmon and the fact that Alex would probably be annoyed because he was hoping to have it as a snack on some crackers later...

"What the hell is this?"

Speak of the devil. Alex and Bobby had returned home.

"It was Luke's idea!" Reggie and Willie immediately threw him under the bus, which, rude. Even though he had been the one to suggest bringing the cat inside.

"Come on guys," he said, finally looking up from his song book to give a confused Alex and an annoyed Bobby his best puppy eyes. "It's super cold outside, you can't be mad at Willie for taking in a stray and saving it from..." He looked over at where Willie was sitting. On his lap, a raccoon was happily eating smoked salmon, clutching it in its little hands.

"That's a raccoon," he told Willie blankly.

"Yeah," Willie beamed. "Luke, meet Kitty."

[syoddeye]

down the hatch / badgering

141 x f!reader | ~1.9k | series page tags: p in v sex, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, bad jokes, manipulation, spanking, manhandling a/n: you know that tunnel scene in willy wonka and the chocolate factory? that's how it feels when i write this. a hoot and a half. banner by @/cafekitsune.

it’s an adjustment. living with roommates again. roommates who refuse to leave, thanks to all the death and destruction outside. convenient excuse, really.

no more naked mornings. you could go tits out—they fucking do—but you’re not entirely without reason. as salivating as they are, the hunks are your enemies.

even if they’ve showered, trimmed, and got some of the bloodstains out of their clothes. 

even if soap makes canned meat and powdered eggs palatable, whipping up a spam and rice bowl for you without asking.

even if gaz finds a five-hundred-piece puzzle on a scavenging trip and bites his tongue when you bat his hand away when he tries to help sort the pieces.

even if ghost slips a game of hangman under your door at lights out, and lets you guess a couple of letters each night. (first word? ‘wanker’. second? ‘larynx.’)

even if john—well, wait, no. the asshole hasn’t made a peace offering. probably because he knows you won’t honor them or because he’s sore about the whole ‘no cool nickname’ thing. whatever.

at night, alone in your room, you plot. how does one evict four man-roaches? make living with you worse than living outside.

in a weird way, your austrian neighbor and his aspirations for a fucking von trapp family: the squeakuel comes in handy. he hoarded all types of junk.

soap’s your guinea pig. he’s moody. something’s always itching under his skin. he snaps at the other men too easily and watches you like a dog admiring meat hanging off a bone. opportunity arrives one morning when john and gaz head topside and ghost settles in the living room. you corner the scotsman in the bunker’s tiny gym.

you linger in the doorway, fixated on the dark shapes under soap’s armpits. his mohawk sags, beads of sweat streaking over the freshly shorn hair. down his flexing muscles. and the grunting, christ. it’s a peek into heaven, which makes ruining it difficult.

without a word, you plop onto the other bench and take up the clarinet you found in your room. channeling the gusto of gus polinski, you wet your lips. how hard can it be? you don’t know polka, but you know rossini.

soap’s head snaps at the opening notes, nearly fumbling a pair of dumbbells, his face a flurry of anger, amusement, and annoyance. it’s a valiant effort, his ignoring you, but in the end, you only make it halfway through your best attempt at the william tell overture before he cracks. he rips the instrument from your hands and tosses it aside. he stands over you, smelly and slick, breathing heavily through his nose. 

you end up dragging him to your room.

soap is the definition of a romp in the sheets. a no-holds-barred deathmatch. it’s the first dick you’ve caught in months, and what a reintroduction. a miracle the bed survives. he starts with his mouth sealed to your clit, tongue working like it’s making up for lost time, as if your cunt and his face go way back. it’s refreshing, but you saw how fast he dropped to his knees for gaz.

two orgasms slip out by the time he wrenches off his damp clothes, chin glistening and eyes glittering. he goes cross-eyed the second his dick slaps against your folds, and you laugh at his desperate groaning when he sinks in. though, your laughs are choked off by his sudden, furious thumbing of your clit. (you punch him in the stomach—ignoring the filthy moan that elicits—and hiss out, “a genie isn’t gonna come out, stop fucking rubbing so hard!”) he ends up coming on your stomach and contorts to lick it off, muttering little gratitudes into your skin. it’s…cute. kind of gross, but cute. you kick him out after a power nap.

soap’s a wash. ba-dum tish. try, try again.

you set your sights on gaz. he’s tricky.

it quickly becomes apparent he’s the best at scavenging. smug about it, too, which you leverage. his ego’s easy enough to feed despite his unease. all it takes is batting your lashes and complimenting his hauls.

amazing. this must be the last jar of berbere ever.

pads? for me? so considerate, i’m stunned.

a mostly intact game of monopoly? wow, here, i thought we were done with landlords and taxes.

it’s simple. you begin with small requests. toothpicks. socks. lip balm. when he returns, he drops the goods in your lap like a cat with a mouse. stares at you with those pretty eyes while you lay it on thick. 

you escalate. either he’ll die on your absurd fetch quests or go crazy trying to fulfill them. brand new period panties. a specific type of hair dye. unopened baby lotion. naturally, he can’t find any of them. he still delivers approximations—granny pants, food coloring, and half a bottle of moisturizer—with a hopeful smile you crush under feigned hums of disappointment. ah, well, if this is the best you can do. it chips away at him. his smiles tighten.

you figure he’ll make a dumb mistake on his next outing out of some fucked desperation, and you’ll be down a roach. but after you tell him to keep an unopened pack of nail varnish because they aren’t your colors, he loses it. this time, you’re dragged to bed.

gaz pins you to the mattress, one hand on your throat and the other shoved into your leggings. pupils blown to the point where they’re shark-like. you’d spare a thought for all the poor creatures dead in aquarium tanks across the globe if he wasn’t hellbent on shoving a third finger in.

“so bloody irritating,” gaz seethes. “spoiled and greedy. have you always been a brat, or am i special?”

you spend your ration of oxygen wisely. “i think you think you’re special.”

for that, your knees meet your chest, and your pussy nearly chokes his dick. or so he tells you, pure filth spewing from his mouth. you giggle madly through the slight pinch of pain, mirroring the feral grin on his face. he’s big, and you could be wetter, but you’re not on your back for good behavior. he’s happy to tell you about that, too. how awful you are.

disappointingly, it doesn’t take long for him to lose his grasp on language. a shame, given his shit talk. 

he bats your hand away from your clit when you try to coax your orgasm along. clicks his tongue, eyes half-mast, and smirks. “gonna be good? gonna thank me?” 

in another world, you’d nod. whatever you say, beautiful. in this world, however, you flip the bird, and he flips you.

gaz pants like a bull, pulling you back onto his cock with an iron grip on your hips. his hand comes down across your ass, but there’s this je ne sais quoi missing. it’s the thought that counts, you guess.

after he makes a mess, you fully expect gaz to continue his tirade. instead, he finds a towel. he rolls you over and tucks you in. thanks you. it’s a shame memoirs are meaningless now as the perfect title comes to mind: ‘bunker bumping: backshots in the apocalypse’.

okay. zero for two. historically, settling for 50% isn’t unlike you. 

back at the drawing board, you reevaluate. annoying the men to death hasn’t worked, and they’re exceptionally durable in dogshit conditions. each day, they get closer to rigging the equipment necessary to contact their ‘friends’, seemingly unperturbed by your efforts. in fact, they seem more comfortable. at home. they poke around the utility room to assess what needs maintenance or improvement. the nerve.

it’s untenable. no matter what that dumb voice in your head insists, you miss solitude. miss not having an audience. you want to watch leon and the silence of the lambs without commentary. dance naked. leave the toilet door open. 

you withdraw.

the bedroom becomes your bunker within the bunker. you take meals alone. painstakingly move your puzzles and hoard books. shower at night after they go to bed. ignore them in the halls. keep your mouth shut when someone addresses you. it’s a fruitless endeavor, keeping your head in the sand, but a part of you hopes if you become as unobtrusive as possible, they’ll forget you exist. after all, they have each other. they put those squeaky single beds through the wringer.

problem is, you don’t account for scragglebeard himself. nosy fucker. 

it happens on shower night. towel-clad and testy, you trudge from the bathrooms and find your door open. you freeze in the hall, hearing clinking sounds and lowered voices. gaz and soap emerge, ferrying dishes and dirty clothes, not sparing so much as a glance. your stomach twists, immediately jumping to the worst-case scenario. they’re reclaiming the space, and they’re finally going to kill you.

unfortunately, it’s not so simple.

“whatever this is,” john sternly says the second you enter the room, “we’re going to fix it.”

ghost traipses past, arms full of unopened cans and more dishware. you glare at his back, then turn to john.

“get the fuck out.”

he chuckles. “sweetheart, what’s not clickin’? this isn’t just your shelter anymore.”

“got it,” ghost reenters, a roll of duct tape held aloft. 

well. you had a nice run. sure, the calamity was a setback, but considering you probably lasted longer than everyone you ever hated, present company aside, that’s a tick in the win column. 

however, ghost doesn’t bind your limbs or cover your mouth. he crouches at the ventilation shaft connecting our rooms, rips off several pieces of tape, and covers most of the grid. “you fuckin’ talk in your sleep.” he points at the small hole he left uncovered and stands. “my bed’s right through ‘ere. it’s fuckin’ unsettlin’.” grumbling, he shuffles out once more.

john’s not shy about scanning you from top to bottom, but apparently, he doesn’t like what he sees. he turns away. “what are we missing?”

you pick through what’s left of your clean clothes. “loaded question.” poking your head through a shirt, you shimmy the towel to your hips.

“where else would you find a clarinet?”

“up your–” he glares over his shoulder, and you smile sweetly. “there’s a small storage space in the closet here. it’s empty now.”

“we found the surveillance room and utilities. it stands to reason that there are others.” john scratches his chin, watching you like a hawk as you pull on shorts. 

“oh. you think?”

“i do.”

“well, think outside of my room. i’m going to bed.” you move to the bed and listen to john close the distance. he hovers, his breath hitting your neck in an exasperated huff. it sends a shiver down your spine. you bet he’s got what gaz was missing—experience behind the swing of his palm.

“like it or not, sweetheart, we’re sticking around. now, i’d prefer it if we kept things civil. based on what the boys told me, i know you’re capable of being friendly.”

it’s not the smartest decision in the world, wheeling on a man trained to kill. he catches your wrist as it winds up and twists it sharply behind your back. with one solid push, you get a mouthful of linen as your body promptly hinges at the waist. an angry string of obscenities gets lost in the sheets. you’ve never been so humiliated. or breathtakingly aroused.

john tuts.

“bad call, badger.”

[wannab-urs]

Title: Something Sweet

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader

Summary: You’re new to the team in Colombia and all alone on your birthday. Your partner, Javier Peña, decides to do something sweet for you. 

Tags: Set vaguely during season 1 before Javi gets extra angsty, canon compliant-ish, reader feeling lonely, sassy!reader, flirty!javi, alcohol (wine), brief mention of a gun bc I feel like a DEA agent wouldn’t just answer the door all willy nilly, kissing, javi asking for consent, but y’all did share a bottle of wine, kissing, fingering f receiving, marking, unprotected PinV, cuddling. I always write angsty Javi, but this is FLUFF, so sorry if it’s OOC, I’m slightly out of my element here. 

WC: 2107

A/N: This fic is a birthday gift for @psychedelic-ink. Sil, you’re a wonderful friend and you do so much for the Pedro Pascal Fandom community on top of being an incredible writer. So, with some help from @pedrorascal with the beautiful gifs, I schemed up a little fic for you. I hope you love it! Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays AHHHH. 

Moving to a new country two weeks before your birthday, which also happens to be Christmas Eve, is not ideal. You moved to Colombia from Miami after a promotion, earning a spot on the elite team working to catch Pablo Escobar. 

The last two weeks have been a whirlwind, trying to catch up on all the facts of the case. You have to learn every sicario by sight and all of their names, aliases, and frequent hang outs. You have to learn about everything Escobar has done in Colombia, all the cartels and how they connect, it’s all extremely exhausting and time consuming. 

Which is why you have no friends yet, unless you count your new partners Javier Peña and Steve Murphy. Which you don’t. You barely know them, and from what you’ve seen so far, Peña is an asshole. Steve might be okay, but you just haven’t had time to get to know him yet. 

You take off your windbreaker and hang it on the back of your chair. It’s kind of ridiculous that you have to work on Christmas Eve, but there’s no rest for the wicked and therefore no rest for you either. You sit down and open the first file on your desk, immediately getting down to business without so much as a greeting for your partners. 

A couple hours into the work day, a shadow darkens your desk. “What do you want, Peña?” 

“God damn, hermosa. Touchy today? I brought you a coffee.” Peña sets the cup of lukewarm black slop on your desk and leans further into your space, peeking at the files you’re reading. 

“Yes, actually. Did you need something or did you just come over here to bother me?” 

“I just came over here to compliment your nails, actually,” he takes your hand in his, inspecting your nails, and then looks into your eyes. “I like the color. Suits you.” 

You feel heat rise to your cheeks. Peña is cute. Gorgeous, really, but you don’t make a habit of flirting with your coworkers. “Thanks… They were my birthday gift to myself.” You tug your hand away from him and place it in your lap. 

“It’s your birthday?” He asks, still leaning much too far into your personal space. You nod and look back down at the file. 

“I have to get back to work now,” you almost whisper to him, all your bitter snark from earlier replaced by a sense of melancholy. There’s not a soul in this entire country who knows it’s your birthday today. Aside from Javier, now, you guess. Javier lingers for another moment before pushing off your desk and leaving you to your work. 

You’re starting to pack up for the day when Peña comes up to your desk again, sitting on the corner. 

 “So what are your plans tonight?” he asks. 

“Huh?” You don’t have any plans. A phone call from your friend in Miami and a bottle of Chilean wine maybe. 

“Your plans? For your birthday?” 

“Oh. I don’t have any. Don’t really know anyone yet so…” you trail off. You feel kind of pathetic, even though you know it’s completely reasonable to not have a group of friends yet. 

“Me and Murphy could take you out?” 

“Oh um–”

“Actually, Jav,”  Steve calls out from his desk. “Me and Connie have plans tonight. Christmas Eve and all,” he gives you an apologetic look. 

“It’s fine really. I’m gonna have a nice relaxing night in. Thanks though.” You put on the best smile you can and head for the door. 

You hang up the phone after your short call with your friend. It’s expensive to call long distance, but she stayed on with you as long as she could. She told you all about her new boyfriend and that everyone had wished you a Happy Birthday and Happy Holidays. You’re grateful she didn’t ask about your job or your love life. 

As you pop the cork on a bottle of wine, there’s a knock on your door. You stare at the door questioningly, as if it will tell you who’s there. Who on earth could be knocking at your door at 8pm on Christmas Eve? 

You grab your gun and sneak over to the door, peeking through the peephole. Broad shoulders and a dark head of hair are all you can make out through the tiny lens. Javier? You set your gun on the side table and pull open the door. 

“Peña? What are you doing here?” 

He turns around and holds his hands out to you. “Brought you something.” He’s holding a birthday cake, clearly store bought, decorated with a generic “Feliz cumpleaños” scrawled on top. A bright smile lights up your face. 

“Oh Javi, you didn’t have to!” 

“I wanted to. You gonna invite me in for some cake?” He raises his eyebrows at you. 

“Oh! Yeah sure. Come in!” You step to the side to let him through and close and lock the door behind him. “Sorry about the mess. I’m not fully unpacked yet.” 

“I’ve been here for 7 years and I’m not fully unpacked. It’s fine.” Javi reassures you. He sets the cake down on your kitchen counter and starts rifling around for plates and silverware. 

“I can do that,” you try to move him out of the way, but he’s having none of it. 

“No, it’s your birthday. Let me. You pour yourself a glass of wine and go sit on the couch.” 

“Fine… thank you.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

You grab a couple glasses and the bottle of wine and carry it to the living room with you. You’re kind of shocked he’s here. He’s always flirty in the office, but he’s like that with everyone. He’s not what you’d call friendly otherwise. Maybe he just feels bad for you. 

Javier drops down onto the couch beside you holding two plates with hefty slices of chocolate cake. He hands you one of the plates and a fork. “Happy birthday. I’m not going to make you do the whole candle thing.”

“Thank you, Javier. This is really, really nice.” You feel like you might cry. It’s just cake, but you felt so alone, and it’s like he really saw you. He saw through whatever exterior shell you were wearing and decided to try to make your day better. 

“Just Javi is fine. And it’s not a big deal, really. You deserve something sweet on your birthday,” he says looking down at the cake in his hands.

“It is to me. A big deal, I mean,” you say softly before taking a bite of the cake. It’s nothing special, just a plain chocolate cake, but it means so much to you. 

You and Javier, Javi, chat about where you’re from and how you came to work for the DEA. You tell him about living in Miami, about the promotion that brought you here. You finish the bottle of wine and a couple more pieces of cake and the conversation doesn’t stop for a long time.

Late in the evening, you finish a story about your 6th birthday, one your aunt always told to the whole family every single year at your birthday dinner. He’s sitting close to you, his thigh pressed against yours despite there being plenty of room on the couch to sit without touching. It makes your heart flutter a little. 

You don’t know if it’s the wine or what, but the little crush you have on him is getting pretty hard to ignore. Javi smirks at you, reaches up, and brushes his thumb over the corner of your lip. 

“Got a little icing there, cariño,” he says, his voice lower and huskier than it has been all night. He brings the icing smeared thumb to his mouth and sucks it between his lips. Your eyes track the movement, pupils blowing wide. He really is pretty. 

You feel yourself lean in toward him, almost unconsciously chasing that thumb to his mouth. He brings his hand up to your cheek and searches your eyes for a moment. He must see what he was looking for because he pulls you closer and presses his lips to yours. 

His lips are soft, warm, gentle on yours. You grab his face in your hands, not wanting him to pull away yet. He slips his tongue along the seam of your lips and you part them, letting him in. You’re not sure who makes the move, but slowly, your back is lowered to the couch, Javi a comfortable weight on top of you. Your hands explore his broad shoulders, the muscles of his back, his trim waist, as he plunders your mouth with his tongue. 

“Can I touch you?” He rasps against your lips. 

“You already are,” you giggle. “Sorry. Yes, Javi.” 

He huffs a laugh into your mouth and slips a hand into your lounge pants, fingers finding your dripping seam. “Wet for me already, hermosa?” 

Your cheeks heat up in slight embarrassment, but you nod. You’re soaked just from kissing him. By the feel of him against your thigh, he’s not better off. He pushes two fingers inside you and presses his lips back to yours. You gasp into his mouth, hands fisting in the back of his shirt. 

His fingers immediately find the spongy spot deep in your core. He curls them, dragging the pads of his fingers along your g-spot with every pump of them inside you. You cling tightly to him, burying your face in his shoulder. 

“Come for me, baby.” 

Your body responds to his command instantly, the tension in your belly releasing into waves of pleasure. Your cunt flutters around his fingers and you whine into his neck as he works you through it. You collapse back onto the couch, and he wastes no time dragging your pants off you. 

You hear the clink of his belt opening, the sound of it hitting the floor. You sit up on your elbows to watch him as he strips off the rest of his clothes. You bite your lip, drinking in the sight of the gorgeous man before you. 

He takes your hands in his and pulls you to your feet before pulling your tank top off you. “Shit, hermosa,” he whispers almost reverently as he takes one of your tits in his large hand, rolling the nipple between two fingers. “Gorgeous.” 

 He kisses you again, wrapping his strong arms around your body and pushing his chest flush with yours. “Bedroom, cariño?” 

You walk him back to your room, barely separating your lips from his for the entire journey. You fall back on your bed and he follows, settling between your legs. His lips drag down your jaw line to your neck as he lines himself up with your entrance. Javi sucks a mark just below your collarbone as he slowly thrusts inside you. 

You wrap your legs around his hips and pull him deeper into you, whining at the stretch. “Fuck, Javi.” 

“Working on it, cariño,” he teases as he bottoms out inside you. He pushes himself up on his elbows and stares into your eyes as he pulls out and thrusts back in smoothly. Your mouth falls open, a little huff spilling out as he bottoms out again. He feels so fucking good inside you. 

Javi sets a steady pace, thrusting into you hard and slow, eyes never leaving yours. When your eyes flutter shut and your back starts to arch in pleasure, he slips his arm under your back, pulling your hips higher on his thighs. The new angle is everything. You gasp out a moan every time his cock punches deep inside you.

Javi is everything in this moment. Your world narrowed to the feeling of his cock pounding into you at that same maddeningly slow, hard rhythm. You feel yourself tightening around him, feel a coil winding in your belly tighter and tighter. 

Javi’s lips find yours again with a kiss that’s more a clash of teeth and tongues than anything as you come hard on his cock. Javi lets out a low groan into your mouth at the way you squeeze him. He thrusts into you a few more times, fucking you through your high, before he quickly pulls out and spills all over your belly. 

He rests his forehead on yours for a moment, catching his breath. He kisses you deeply one more time before falling to the bed beside you. Javi pulls you into his arms, not paying any mind to the mess he made on your stomach. He holds you close, kissing the top of your head. 

“Happy Birthday, cariño.”

[iiovserii]

Daddy’s Home — Miguel O’Hara x Fem!Reader

summary: Miguel didn’t get to be picky when it came to choosing his new, forever home, as long as he was in Gabriella’s arms again. Even if it meant sharing her with you. (3.1k Words) Based on this prompt

warnings: angst, slight smut, violence (including the disposal of a body), emotional manipulation, toxic relationship

authors note: this was inspired by one of my prompts from around a week ago and i’ve been holding onto this bad boy for about a week considering it’s my first ever fanfic i’ve ever wrote..i just wanted it to be perfect 😭 in my prompt i said something about the reader being sweet but she’s a lot more firey in this because the real miguel was an asshole who was never home..but i hope you all enjoy anyways! i was hoping to create this into series so if you want to be added to the taglist let me know 💖 i’ve also added the translation at the end just because 🤷‍♀️

Link to the Ao3 ver instead!

Miguel didn’t get to be picky when it came to choosing his new, forever home, as long as he was in Gabriella’s arms again, even if it meant sharing her with you. You were littered through Gabriella’s file, a pretty hard person to miss considering the fact that you were there for every single moment of her life—the sweet cooing voice in each video of her as a baby, the delicate hands that held the small, chubby fingers as she took her first steps, and the laughter that arose from behind the camera as Gabriella pulled a funny face.

This Gabriella was the perfect fit, however perfect came with a mother that was alive and well. It was a package deal in this universe, a love intertwined with filial devotion that Miguel would just have to deal with.

But he couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that was buried deep in his chest, even as he watched a memory of Gabriella’s first goal (a favorite of his), which was originally only celebrated by him, now being replaced by Gabriella shrieking excitedly as she ran up to her mother, throwing her arms around you in triumph.

Moments like these, so special for his little girl, fueled his deep hatred towards you. It was watching these memories where Miguel genuinely wondered if he was even present in this universe. Nevertheless, staring down at his own lifeless body made him realize just how right he was.

What was he doing outside alone, in a dark alleyway on a Friday night anyway? Why wasn’t he home with his daughter, with his wife?

Those were the thoughts that ran through his mind as he began disposing of the body—a man too selfish and weak to even protect his precious daughter. In the end, he got what was coming to him, or so he told himself to keep from feeling guilty.

He didn’t care for details, knowing he was here now to pick up the pieces of a broken family and restore it to something he could finally have a second chance with. He snapped out of his thoughts as he heard the jingle of a ringtone coming from his new phone. Swiping the phone from his pocket, he didn’t even stop to waver whether or not he should answer as he saw your name flash on the screen, rolling his eyes as he pressed accept. He pulled the device up to his ear, resting it on his shoulder and cheek as he listened to the sound of your voice.

The first thing he noticed was how tired you sounded—were you waiting for him to return home? He could imagine you laid on the sofa, eyes nervously glancing up at the clock at any given moment, a silly housewife awaiting her husband. He almost felt bad for you; it was pathetic that you would really allow yourself and Gabriella to live like that, always waiting.

He ended the call swiftly, making up some stupid excuse about how he caught up with work and would be arriving shortly. Pretty much in character for the man he just suffocated with his own hands, not raising any suspicion for you as he heard the sleepy yawn telling him that you’d be asleep by the time he got back.

However, despite the dark act he had just committed, he was willing to go to great lengths to win Gabriella's heart again. If putting this ring on his finger and pretending that the woman on the other end of the phone was his wife would grant him another chance with her, then so be it.

He wouldn’t mind playing house with you, as long as he was able to hold his daughter in his arms once more.

He felt disgusted even calling you 'wife', but for Gabriella's sake, he knew he needed to play along. It wasn't like it mattered anyway since your daughter worshipped you so much more than him.

He didn’t need you, he knew that.

However the thought of Gabriella’s eyes as they lit up when you walk in the room seemed to tell him otherwise. She needed you.

He hated the way the house was never quiet, there was always something happening.

You were making dinner? There had to be music in the background as you traveled around the kitchen, humming and singing along to whatever tune was playing on the speaker. That soft velvety voice seemed to flow through the house, and it killed him inside that he wanted to hear more of you.

Gabriella was playing outside? Well you were playing outside as well, it wasn’t like you had a choice, having being pulled away from whatever you were doing to entertain the small girl.

You had everything running like clockwork—cooking dinner while managing homework and playing with Gabriella at the same time—all without seemingly breaking any sweat or becoming frustrated.

Miguel couldn't help but admire you for being able to handle everything so seamlessly. But deep down, he still felt resentment towards you for taking over what should have been his role as the sole parent of their child.

He’d notice small things, like the way your hands flew to your face when you were shocked, it was sweet at first, until he realised Gabriella also did the same, she never did that before. He had noticed it one morning when he stood in the doorway of Gabie’s room, not trying to make his presence known as he watched the two of you play, and the scowl on his face didn’t go unnoticed as you furrowed your eyebrows at him, wondering what he looking at so intensely.

It took him the first couple of weeks to get used to your laugh, you were always laughing. It seemed to rub off on Gabriella as well, he didn’t think he’d ever seen her laugh this much, even before.

Miguel tried his best to ignore the feelings that arose in him at the sight of you playing with Gabriella, and sometimes even joined the two of you whilst you played your games. He couldn't help but feel envious of how happy the two of you looked together, reminding him of moments he could have had if only things had gone differently.

Despite these feelings, it wasn't long before Miguel began to see a different side of you. A side that made him realise why Gabriella adored you so much.

One day while cooking dinner, he noticed your eyes lighting up as Gabriella told a story about her day at school. You were so invested in her words that for once he felt like an outsider looking into your world.

He also witnessed moments when Gabriella fell ill and how tirelessly you took care of her; staying up all night by her bedside until she fell asleep or gently rubbing Vicks on her chest when she was coughing painfully.

It was moments like these when Miguel started to question his assumptions about you and wondered whether maybe—just maybe—he'd been too quick to judge.

But as much as Miguel tried to ignore it, he couldn't shake the feeling that he had buried something deep inside him. He couldn't let go of the resentment he felt towards you for replacing his role.

He started focusing on every little mistake you made, criticising your cooking and getting angry when things didn't go his way. Every time you laughed or smiled at Gabriella, it sent a pang of jealousy straight through him.

"She's too attached to you," he huffed, standing beside the bathroom counter as you both prepared for bed, "you can't even leave the room, and she's already wondering when you'll be back again."

"Well, maybe if you were around more often, she wouldn't be so reliant on me," you retorted, the soft glow of the bathroom lights casting shadows on your face, your voice laced with frustration.

His eyes narrowed as he leaned in, reaching for his toothbrush, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Oh, of course, it's all my fault. Because you're just the perfect parent, aren't you? Always there, always available."

"You know what, maybe if you actually made an effort instead of criticizing me all the time, you'd see the bond we have is because I've been there for her when you weren't!" you retorted, your voice rising, the sound echoing against the tiled walls.

His tone grew more defensive. "I never said I was perfect, but at least I'm trying now. You could at least acknowledge that."

A mirthless smile crossed your face as you leaned against the bathroom counter, facing each other in the confined space.

"Acknowledging your half-hearted attempts doesn't erase the damage done, Miguel. It takes more than just physical presence to be a real parent."

The tension hung heavy in the air, the scent of toothpaste mingling with their argument, as the bickering between husband and wife intensified. The wounds of the past were reopened, and neither was willing to back down or see the other's perspective.

As the heated exchange reached its peak, you turned on your heels, ready to storm off, your frustration boiling over. But just as you took a step away, Miguel's hand shot out, firmly gripping your arm. The air tightened between you, the coolness of the bathroom tiles beneath your feet.

The grip on your arm only tightened, his expression a mixture of frustration and a confused longing. "You don't speak to me like that," Miguel growled, his voice firm. "You are my wife, act like it."

“You are my husband, I expect the same from you,” you snapped back, your voice dripping with defiance, refusing to back down as you swatted away his hand. “And—I will speak to you however I want.” The sound of running water from the faucet filled the silence.

A flicker of amusement crossed Miguel's face, his eyes tracing your determined form. He had underestimated your strength, your fiery spirit. Despite the frustration that lingered between them, a newfound admiration stirred within him.

"Si supiera que eras tan molesto, te habría dejado hace mucho tiempo, Muñeca," he mused, his tone tinged with a mix of fascination and curiosity, the steam from the shower filling the bathroom. “Las cosas que haría para callar esa boca tan bonita tuya.”

The intensity of the moment had rendered you momentarily speechless, steam rising in the bathroom as the warm air surrounded you both. But you managed to find your voice, albeit in a whisper, the sound barely audible over the running water.

"Now that's not fair," you murmured, the dampness of the bathroom clinging to your skin, your voice filled with a mixture of frustration and longing. "You know I don't understand what you're saying..”

A slow, mischievous smile curled at the corners of Miguel's lips, his eyes sparkling with a hint of mischief as he leaned in closer, the scent of shampoo and desire filling the air. And as your lips lingered so close, the unspoken desires between you both grew stronger.

“Good.”

The man currently asleep beside you, was not, to absolute certainty, your husband.

His features held a resemblance to the man you once knew, but there was a striking difference—an unfamiliar intensity in his eyes, he looked at you like he didn’t know you.

His hair fell differently, it looked more clean compared to the tousled mess due to work. You would've sworn he had a small crease in the corner of his eyebrow, but then it disappeared along with the mole on the side of his neck.

He smelled of citrus and leather before, a smell that made you turn when he walked into the room—you knew that smell more than you knew yourself.

Instead now, all you could smell was warm spice and amber. It almost made you smile when you smelt it on him as he walked past you that morning, a couple of weeks ago, until you realised that was the fragrance you got him last Christmas, the fragrance he said he hated and never wore.

The bed, too, felt subtly different beneath your weight, as if it dipped just slightly more than it used to.

It made you feel like your heart was tearing apart. On one hand, he was paying more attention to Gabriella, and she was thriving because of it. He took her to all the soccer practices, played with her and held her so tight that you’d think she’d pop.

You’ve never seen her so happy.

On the other hand, he was hardly in your presence. He hadn’t touched you for weeks, not even a kiss. The most he had done was argue with you, mostly about how close you and Gabriella was.

However, one thing that you couldn’t help but notice was the dark look in his eyes every-time Gabriella’s attention shifted toward you.

He was hardly around before, always at work, the gym or drinking with his co-workers at the bar across from town.

Nowadays it was hard for him to leave you and Gabriella alone.

Not to mention, it was like he grew twice in size. His shoulder looked broader, the veins in his arms popped, more defined. He could basically pick up your seven year old like a feather. Had he been working out more?

You shift on your pillow, eyes glancing down at his heaving chest as he slept. The only time he didn’t look so tense recently was when he was asleep. So peaceful.

You couldn’t help but reach out and dance one of your fingers on the side of his torso, quietly humming some annoying tune that wouldn’t leave your mind that morning.

"What are you doing, Gatita?" he quipped, unable to suppress a soft chuckle that escaped his lips, snapping you out of your thoughts and making you squeak.

As you tried to pull your hand away, Miguel quickly caught it in mid-air, his touch exerting a gentle but firm hold. His finger lightly pressed into your palm, a subtle reminder of his presence and it was almost like he was showing his desire to keep you near.

“What, don't you like touching your husband?" he playfully remarked, mischief dancing in his eyes. His gaze deliberately traveled down your body, as if savoring the sight before him.

Rolling your eyes and pouting, you couldn't resist the urge to make a bratty remark. "Well, it's not exactly enjoyable when the husband is such a pain in the ass." you huffed, your tone laced with a hint of childish defiance.

Feeling his firm hold on your hand, you let out a whine at the tightness. It was as if he was purposely trying to keep you close, unwilling to let you slip away. The intensity of his grip only fueled your frustration.

That’s an air between the two of you. You just couldn’t put your finger on it. The way you desperately try to search in his eyes for something, anything, that would tell you that the man you’re looking at, is, really your husband. The man you’ve spent nearly eight years with.

It’s almost like he’s trying to breathe you in, the way he looks like he’s trying to piece together your features, it makes you wonder if he even knows a thing about you.

The weight of the impending moment made you fidget, your fingers nervously playing with the edge of the bedsheet. You were acutely aware of the lingering tension between you and Miguel, and you attempt to find a way to wiggle your way out of his grasp.

A timid sigh escaped your lips, as a sense of unease settled upon your shoulders. "Gabriella will be waking up soon," you whispered, your voice tinged with a flicker of concern.

A cruel smirk played at the corner of his lips as he leaned in closer, invading your personal space. "Is my little wife hiding from me?" he sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm and mockery. “You know she’s not getting up for at least another hour.”

Your eyes darted nervously between him and the door, your mind already jumping to potential escape routes. You couldn't help but wonder if he was purposefully trying to push your buttons with his words.

"I just don't want her to-," you began to stutter, but were cut short as Miguel's grip tightened further on your hand. "Don't worry about Gabriella," he whispered into your ear, his breath hot against the nape of your neck. “She’ll be fine.”

A shiver ran down your spine at the sensation; it stirred something within you that you couldn’t quite explain. Within the eight years of your marriage, he had never made the room feel so..heated.

You gasped at the sensation of his lips pressing into your neck, sending shivers down your spine in a wave of desire and guilt. All logic told you that this was wrong, yet there was a part of you that wanted nothing more than to give in to the heat that bubbled within.

As Miguel's kisses grew bolder and more insistent against your skin, you couldn't help but writhe beneath him.

His groan reverberated through your body, stirring something deep within as he whispered against your ear "I know I've been a bad husband," punctuating each with another kiss along the length of your jaw.

"Miguel-" Your voice trailed off into a soft whimper as he shifted so that he was hovering over you, one hand moving to fondle at the curve of your hip while the other tangled itself in your hair.

"But I'm here now," he murmured between kisses before ducking back down to press his lips onto yours once again. The taste of him flooded through you even as he reached up under-shirt slowly caressing and teasing you, making sure not too much display signs of pleasure.

As the heat continued to build between you and Miguel, he began to part your legs, eliciting a soft gasp from deep within as his intent became clear. You felt his lips curl into a knowing smile at your reaction as he watched your mean facade fall away.

"Mmm," he hummed in appreciation as his eyes roamed over every inch of exposed skin. "Looks like my little wife isn't all mouth after all." He teasingly remarked before lowering himself once again so that his tongue could trace patterns along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

The sensation left you moaning softly in pleasure at the skilled touch, completely lost in the moment. It wasn't until Miguel's fingers found their way back up to her hips that you realized just how much control he had over this situation.

"You know what?" He said with a smirk pulling back to look at her face before diving down for another heated kiss "I think maybe have to put you in line more often."

You wouldn’t mind that in the slightest.

eng translation:

1. “Si supiera que eras tan molesto, te habría dejado hace mucho tiempo, Muñeca,” — "If I knew you were so annoying, I would have left you a long time ago, doll."

2. “Las cosas que haría para callar esa boca tan bonita tuya.” — "The things I would do to silence that beautiful mouth of yours."

3. “Gatita” — Kitten

[meltedheartz]

thinking about ftm!reader and mean!izuku who thinks it's so cute how they just can't defend themselves against him :((

tw : college!au, dub-con, condescension, mild bullying (in a way), chubby reader, reader wears glasses, reader's a bit of a loser, dacryphilia, creampie, no protection (don't be silly, wrap that willy!), mating press, izuku's a whore for reader, praise and petnames, don't care how big you are cuz izu's bigger, gn pronouns used :3

word count : wrote this on a whim, so i honestly don't know..

it starts when you accidentally bump into him, stumbling back yet he was barely even startled. you apologize profusely, and izuku just waves you off at first.

you think it's rude, before rushing off to wherever you were trying to get too—forgetting about it.

but izuku spots you around that coffee shop near the campus, sees you in the hallways with books nearly stumbling from your arms, watches as you take notes as the professor speaks.

a couple of people whisper about you, how you never bother speaking to anyone, and how nervous you seem when someone approaches you.

it's like cornering a bunny, izuku thinks when he decides to speak to you.

well, it's more like being passive aggressive than actually conversing.

"wow, you're soo smart. you must be real fun to be around, huh? your voice is really high pitched, are you sure you're alright?"

you tell him to stop being a dickhead, if he doesn't wanna be around, he doesn't have to be. izuku waves you off and laughs, says you're like a startled animal that thinks it's intimidating, and it makes you frown.

"you're an ass," you poke at his chest, before picking up your bag and adjusting your glasses.

"hm? where are you going?" izuku pointedly ignores your insult, but it feels more ticklish than insulting or hurtful.

you ignore him right back, attempting to storm out of his dorm room. of all the people you get to work with, you get paired with him. it's annoying—more an inconvenience, than anything.

izuku watches as tears well up behind those clear rims you wear, sees the furrow in your eyebrow and nearly laughs at it, wants to call you a crybaby for it; just like everyone used to do to him.

he can sort of see why they did it, and when it comes down to someone as soft and quiet as you, it's nearly impossible to resist.

"we're not done with either of our parts. you don't need help on yours?"

when you don't answer, izuku takes it upon himself to grab you hard enough to stop you, but not enough to hurt. it causes a slight discomfort, makes your breathing stutter a bit as you sniffle and try to pull away—but you physically can't.

izuku speaks again, looming over you with a small scowl. "why are you ignoring me? i thought you wanted to get this done, what happened to that?"

you just wanna slap him for asking that. he knows the answer — knows exactly what he did wrong and why you got fed up.

"let go of me. i'll work on my part by myself, dickweed."

"nuh-uh, that's not fair to either of us, is it?" izuku coos, grabbing your bag for you and tossing it onto the futon he has sitting just a little bit away.

you sniffle again, more tears welling up and threatening to tip over and down onto your chubby cheeks, and you can't even wipe them away cuz you're arguing with such an asshole.

you seem so frustrated and angered, but he knows that instead of yelling, you cry. it's pathetic, makes him wanna bite your cute face and boop your nose just to see you sniffle some more.

"you mad at me?" izuku asks, tugging you back into the small apartment that you stupidly decided to visit to get your joint assignment done.

"this is stupid — let me go, midoriya." he frowns at that, his grip loosening just a bit before it tightens again.

he clicks his tongue and drags you right back to his room, with all the superhero posters and expensive collectors items that can't be found anywhere else.

izuku sits you down but doesn't let you go—hasn't let go of your arm since he got a hold of it. "what happened to calling me by my name?"

"that is your name," you snark back. you watch as his eyes narrow a bit and he makes his way on to the bed, looming over you.

you feel.. small. it's not like you were ever bigger than him, he goes to the gym more times a week than you can keep track of and is over 6'0" — of course you aren't bigger than him.

"don't get smart with me honey. you know you don't wanna do that." izuku sighs and makes you lay down, and you feel your heartbeat speed up as your eyes widen.

you struggle and squirm, but he just smiles and puts more of his weight on you, making it near impossible to even move.

"m-midoriya—"

"izuku. say it," he breathes out, tucking his face into the crook of your neck almost forcefully.

he hears you hiccup, sees as the tears flow over and how your eyes get all glassy—all doe-eyed and he laughs.

"izuku, get off me—" you try to move again, you feel the grip around your wrist tighten more and it feels more and more uncomfortable as it does.

"i love you. you're so cute, what would you have done if it was someone else on top of you? hm?" izuku raises his head to look at you, and feels bad.

feels that guilt of actually making you cry, seeing how scared you are of him. "ah-ah, shh. i'm sorry. i didn't mean to make you upset, okay?"

that doesn't make the tears stop, but izuku thinks it's fine. the apology sounds genuine—more genuine than the usual sarcastic 'sorry' he gives you, more genuine than the mean laughs he gives you after making you throw a crumbled paper ball at him.

"i hate you, you're s-so mean," you hiss, wanting to kick and scream at him.

you feel the hold he has on your wrists loosen, but he doesn't let go entirely. but it's more than enough for you to wriggle free.

izuku smiles again, "i know. i know, 'm sorry."

the words that leave his mouth make you hiccup and stare at him, the typical scowl you always give izuku on your lips.

"you never show that you're actually sorry." you sniffle, and have to move to wipe the onslaught of tears the stumble down your pretty face.

izuku pauses when you say that, eyes grazing over your face before he lights up.

"how about i prove it, would that make you feel better?"

"s-slow down—"

"mgh—s-sorry," izuku gasps, but doesn't make any move to slow down, hips stuttering into yours as he watches you shake and clutch at the sheets.

it's been a little over thirty minutes, you think, but you're not sure. it's not like you can think when you can feel izuku's pretty cock all the way in your tummy—making sure you know he's actually sorry.

he spent all his time before this slurping at your pretty cunt, fingering you to completion as he sucked at your cute clit and made sure you felt good.

even now, izuku was trying to make sure you felt as good as you possibly could with him, watching your eyes roll back with every thrust into you.

"love you s'much, soo soft n pretty-" izuku whines, kissing you all sloppily yet so lovingly.

it makes you clench up around him, trying to close your legs but you jus can't because of the mean mating press he has you in.

"such a good boy for me, yeah?" the words paired with his dick stirring up your guts make you wail.

it's almost too much, but it's not enough as you cream around his cock—a milky white ring forming at the base of it as he pants and gasps right next to your ear.

he pounds a little faster—a little harder before his thrusts get sloppier and nearly lose rhythm. you can barely see his face without your glasses and the tears blurring your vision further.

but izuku makes sure that you can hear him good and well as he moans and whines, feeling the blunt tip press against your cervix as though it never wants to leave.

"shit, shit— 'm cumming," he gives short little thrusts as he does, cumming harder than he has in months just knowing that he finally has you.

you're both sweaty and you feel a little icky, embarrassed at all the crying you did. izuku kisses you—softer than he did before, wiping some hair from your face as he does.

"love you." izuku mutters. he doesn't care if you don't say it back, just as long as you know he loved you at the very least.

"i love you too."

A/N ; i haven't written smut or anything in MONTHS. i hope this is good in some parts, it's very rushed and not well thought outt :((

b4 anyone asks, minors are allowed to interact with my account. i don't care, as long as you aren't under 15. i fully understand that you guys have hormones, and the "minors dni" thing is straight bullshit to me. luv you guys, i will be making an account intro, but it won't be anytime soon cuz i'm lazy.. ＼(≧▽≦)／

[dmfromtheblacklagoon]

It seems people really enjoyed the last headcannon post, so I have returned, this time with headcannons for the non-romanceable characters!

I love all of the characters in this game, and have created so many little dumb ideas for them, so here ya go!

We have confirmation that Linus came from a wealthy family, but put this life aside, donating his money to various charities and organizations to help others, and I like to imagine that he still enjoys working with these charities from time to time, whether this be shelter work, environmental care, or supporting other people!

Willy never had children, but took in Elliot as his own, teaching him everything he would need to know regarding the seas, and quickly takes in Farmer as well, after learning about their love for fishing.

Gus is a trans guy! I don't have any evidence for this, but I just adore Gus so much and need this in my life.

Gunther is a long-time DM, and runs a small group with some of the local teens, and maybe some of the adults! I feel like his fascination of antiques and old treasures has assisted his DMing skills, or possibly the other way around!

Kent has learned how to sew, knit, and garden in order to get closer with Jodi and the kids once he returned to Pelican Town. (He's trying to be a better dad, he already is such a good guy :])

Mr. Qi is quite close with both Sandy and Gus, considering them friends!

Pierre was a college dropout, yet still considers himself a "man of study", I'm sorry, I just can't see this man as anything but an arrogant asshole.

The Wizard is incredibly supportive of the queer folks in the town, and Farmer, and will offer help with anything. Gender change? He's got you. Voice manipulation? He's got the stuff. Just be careful if he invites you to share a pipe!

Marlon and the Wizard are the local salty gay couple, Statler and Waldorf style, and lurk in the back during the flower dance, taking the last dance for themselves.

Pam loves thrifting and going on antiquing sprees with Harvey, and she knows how to absolutely steal a deal, girlie would most definitely punch an old woman over an auction item.

This is all I have atm, but if you want more, please let me know!! I love making stupid little theories for the glorbos. :]

[dollcherray]

Can we have some yandere Edward x Reader please???

୨୧ SERIOUSLY !? ✮⋆˙

YANDERE EDWARD X READER

A/N: alright, gonna give yall freedom now and ill be more flexible when writing for yanderes, but please none of the things i mentioned in the last yandere limits post. (this one) (tw warning)

Type: Headcanons, romantic, fluff

TW: Bullying mentions, yandere topics, basically Edward forces friendship with you near the end? ig thats how we call it? obsession, delusion, he has toxic jealousy.

୨୧ Edward would be a very chaotic yandere, to the point of simply jumping on you or picking you up randomnly, mostly making you get scared and/or screech almost everytime he does that, it really pisses you off, but he doesnt mind.

୨୧ Edward would be a very two faced yandere too, while hes treating you like royalty when you are with him, hes being his normal asshole behavior with others, throwing paper balls at them and etc, typical Edward behavior.

୨୧ I think you two would get acquainted only in two ways: either with you just being as chaotic and eletric as Edward or it was love at first sight, either way, he is really going to be obsessed with you.

୨୧ Edward is possessive, delusional, chaotic, clingy and obsessive, to an very unhealthy extent, like, if someone else mention you in a casual conversation with him, he would not stop talking about you and how perfect you are, how your smile is just- glamorous and stupidly perfect!

୨୧ He would not let the trio bully you, if they dare to make fun of you or tease a little bit, this boy would get into a fight with them for you, his love for you can easily make him act in a way really unexpected from him.

୨୧ God have mercy on the soul that has a crush on you or a crush that you have that is showing signs of reciprocal love for you, because if he finds out, they are fucked, Edward would straight up bully them, and its going to be alot, He'll say lines like, "Do you really think you're good enough for them? or even worthy of their love? you actually think they'll ever love you? be for real."

୨୧ Edward would be similar to Miss Bloomie is some areas, like clinging to you almost all the time or following you like a lost puppy, you'll have to genuinely have to ask him to stop or else he will follow you to the bathroom too.

୨୧ If you actually try to leave him, he would be asking alot of questions and demanding full explanations and wouldnt leave you alone until you give him an explanation of why your doing this, he thought you liked him!

୨୧ i think Edward would be straight off be keeping you with him, he would basically just ignore that you were trying to leave him and act like nothing happened, that you were just being a silly willy.

୨୧ He's lowkey obsessed and lovesick for you, he would be the type to do dumb things or try to do incredible things to impress you or have your attention, he would be a very silly goof yandere.

୨୧ But dont get fooled, this boy would go out of his way to hurt mentally or physically if someone tries to take you away from him, he wont let that happen, not on his watch.

୨୧ His jealousy is very toxic, he would be glaring daggers into the person and straight up talk shit about them to you, he would either act delusional if you question his speeches and actions towards the person or get mad that your "defending" them.

୨୧ He cant stand whenever you interact so intimately with another person, like hugging them or just playing around with them, it should be him not them, they dont deserve it, they dont deserve you.

୨୧ "Cmon babe, you didnt really mean to leave me! i just know that!"

[charliehoennam]

the dinner party

A/N: Filling out this request. Enjoy!

Pairing: David Loki x F!reader

Summary: David and his girl spice things up at her boss's annual dinner party.

Warnings: SMUT. 18+ ONLY. Language, unprotected p in v sex (wrap your willy, kids), oral play, cumplay, not proofread

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

Parties in general were David’s least favorite things. He rarely gets time off and the last thing he wants to do is spend it sharing you with people he doesn’t know.

Sure, they were your co-workers and superiors and he trusted you more than anyone in the world. But you looked way too sexy to be at this stupid dinner party.

He wanted to have you to himself tonight. He didn’t want to socialize; his social meter was already naturally low and he’d been there for almost half an hour now, enduring the small talk with the strangers you introduced him to and all their invasive questions about the job he mostly just didn’t want to think about.

You noticed his discomfort when he excused himself to get more wine after one of the most obnoxious guys of your workplace asked him what the most disturbing thing he’d seen on the job was.

It was disturbing for a reason and he wished he could forget it.

“Uhm, that’s rather a hard question to answer. Guess I’ve just seen too much” David answered curtly. “Excuse me, I ran out of fuel” he confirmed raising his glasses.

You co-workers laughed it off with his little joke, but you knew he wasn’t trying be funny, so you followed him into your boss’s kitchen.

“Sorry about that. I didn’t-“ you started, regretting that you had dragged him along.

“Not your fault, babe. People are just assholes sometimes.”

“Just 30 more minutes? I don’t wanna be here anymore than you do, but I have to. You know how my boss is. He takes it personal if we don’t show up. I don’t wanna be iced out at work.”

“What if I planted drugs in his house?” he smirked picking at the charcutarie board on the kitchen island to pop some salami into his mouth. “Ooh, that’s good salami. I think that’s salami, at least.”

“Please tell me you’re joking.”

“Of course, I am. But he is a douche. I’d be doing you a favor.”

“I couldn’t agree more, but this job pays for all the sexy lingerie I wear for you.” You smirked filling up both your glasses. “And the hours are really flexible too.”

“Almost as flexible as you” he smirked back idling around the kitchen. “I’ll be on my best behavior, I promise. I know it’s important. It’s just fucking boring as shit. If I have to hear your boss talk about his Italian inspiration for the house, my head might actually explode. I can literally feel the vein in my head throb every time he says ‘venetian’.”

You chortled with a sip of your wine.

“I know he’s a lot to handle, but it’s just for 30 minutes. And I already introduced you to everyone, so we can just hang out with my friends out back until then. They’re pretty normal, like us.”

“I can’t believe it’s only been half an hour. It feels like it’s been at least 3 hours.”

“What can I do to make it easier hm?” you smiled rubbing your palm against his chest.

“Well…” he smirked lowering his gaze to scan your body. He loved how your black dress hugged your curves just perfectly. “There is one thing that would make me really happy. You know I have a sweet tooth, right?”

You narrowed your eyes with a mirroring smirk.

“You want dessert already?”

“It’s the best part of the course, if you ask me.”

“Fine. But we gotta keep it quiet” you nodded with a mischievous smile.

"Wait. Are you serious?" he asked in disbelief. He didn't think you'd actually agree.

"Yeah, I am. This party is a total dud. I wouldn't be here unless I had to. Might as well make it fun," you smiled nonchalantly, dipping your fingertip into your wine and dabbed the red liquid on his white shirt.

“Hey! What’d you do that for?”

“You’re a cop, David. Rule number one: always have an alibi. And I’m not gonna ruin my dress. It was more expensive than your shirt.”

“Ey, I paid 10 dollars for this shirt at the good-will.”

“My point exactly,” you smirked taking his hand to lead him out of the kitchen and back into the crowd. “You’re such a klutz, Davy. Let’s try to get you cleaned up.”

Fighting back the excited smile was hard to do as you led him to the upstairs floor. Running off to a secret place to do secret things had you both feeling like young teenagers in love again.

“Yeah, ” he smirked with suspicious eyes squinted at you as you weaved through the crowd of employees. "Accident happen."

If there was one thing David loved more than you and his job, it was going down on you. And, if that wasn't enough already, it was one of the many things that he excelled at.

"C'mere, beautiful" he smirked turning you around once you'd locked the door.

His hands snaked around your hips as lips collided with you in a feverish kiss, hiking up your dress. Your lower back met with the marble countertop of the sink in the lavish bathroom.

David opened his eyes to look at the reflection of your ass, beautifully on display in your black lace panties.

"You look so pretty, baby" he groaned at the twitching of his hidden cock.

Your cheeks bloomed with warmth as praises spewed from his mouth.

Once his knees met the floor, he wasted no time getting to work. David loved seeing you in black lace. He loved your pussy even more.

His moans were muffled as he buried his mouth over your clothed cunt, nose rubbing and circling your sensitive nub as he inhaled your delicious scent.

"Got this pretty pussy all dressed up for me too huh?" he asked with a devilish gleam in his eyes.

His hot breath and warm tongue nuzzling your cunt had your panties growing wetter and wetter with a combination of his saliva and your slick.

You moaned as your hand reached for his head, legs welcoming his mouth as you sat back on the edge of the countertop.

With a hand wrapped around your thigh, he hooked a finger under the lacy fabric and pulled it to the side in order to display your juicy cunt to him.

"Ain't nothing sweeter than this right here."

His open mouth quickly latched onto your exposed pussy. His tongue eagerly licked up the sopping mess that only flooded from your spongy walls.

His thumb circled over your delicate clit as his tongue stroked over your plushy folds up and down, over and over again, sending electricity throughout your body and curling your toes.

The sticky sounds of your incredibly wet cunt and his mouth along with David's expertly technique altering from your pussy, down to your puckering asshole, had your head hanging back. Heat burned in your cheeks as you wondered if anyone could hear you from the outside.

David's eyes were locked on your contorting reaction, coming undone with your mouth hung open in an ecstasy only he could provide. So desperate for your release, you ground your hips against his face, caressing his head of luscious hair as you chased your high.

Your spine arched forward as you relished every greedy movement of his flickering tongue, panting when his thumb slowly sped up its circling over your tender clit.

David's low chuckle at your frantic chase for climax sent chills over your hot skin.

"D-Dave, I-I'm gonna-" you gasped, trying your best to stay as quiet as you possibly could.

"Cum for me," he ordered adding more pressure and speed to his teasing thumb.

The blinding white light of sheer pleasure rippled through your body, letting it tremble under his unyielding mouth. Despite your attempt to shut your thighs, he chuckled darkly as he forced them apart, pushing you further back and folding you over on the countertop until your knees met your chest and your back met the cold surface of the mirror behind you.

“Look at this pretty pussy, all soaked just for me.”

With a teeth baring grin, his long fingers glided easily between your slick folds, toying with the sensitive mound of flesh.

“Came so good for me, didn’t you? Gonna let me taste it?”

You nodded eagerly at him unable to speak with heavy breaths, trying to ease yourself from your newfound high.

“Be a good girl and spread your pussy for me then" he ordered politely quickly bringing your hands under your thighs to pull your pussy apart to hold it open yourself in the raunchiest way.

“Atta girl” he grinned maliciously.

His tongue shoved into your soaked hole, delving deeper and deeper into your open cunt. David was addicted to your pussy, to your taste. He loved how wet you could get, how much of a mess you could make just for him to see.

You watched as he fucked you with his tongue, lapping at your pulsing walls as he impatiently licked for every single drop.

"Baby, fuck me. Please. I need your cock in me so fucking bad right now" you begged, reminded by his tongue of his dick.

He didn't hesitate for a single moment before unbuckling his black pants to let his throbbing dick bounce freely from its confines. He spat into his hand and wrapped it around his cock to give it a few tugs, eyes hungrily staring your gaping pussy.

"Jesus fucking Christ" he groaned as the saliva and his pre-cum mixed and coated his heavy cock.

Aligning his heavy tip´to your welcoming pussy, he slid it up and down your swollen slippery lips to gather your slick. You hissed as he tapped it over your sensitive clit, making your hips buck as they chased his cock eager to fill up your pussy with his sizeable dick.

He would've teased you far more if he hadn't remembered where you were, so instead, his tip slipped past your folds and into your warm wet cunt.

He pushed in and pulled out slowly at first, to wet his dick enough until he could glide in and out of you with ease. You both watched completely hypnotized by your pussy lips wrapped around his heavy member with a shiny glazed hug.

"Keep this pussy open for me, baby girl. Take it all in. I know you can take it."

You felt so wonderfully full and stretched with his thick, long cock slowly moving inside you. Every ridge and vein of it massaged your walls in the perfect way, eliciting even more wetness from your body.

"Ah, fuck" he growled lowly unable to tease.

He needed to cum so badly. His dick was already throbbing and aching for release. Not to mention that eventually someone would knock on the door or come looking for you.

His belt buckle jingled as his hips began to piston against yours. His large hands moved to your chest, pulling your bra and dress to watch your breasts bounce freely with his every thrust.

"Ain't gonna last long like this, baby" he panted softly as he mumbles against the smooth calf of your leg.

He pounded balls deep into you quickly, watching your slick lips squelch around his cock as the sounds of wet slapping skin echoed softly in the bathroom.

It was just too much for him. Your perfectly drenched pussy hugging his cock beautifully, his balls smacking around your ass cheeks, your breasts jiggling to his rhythm.

It all overwhelmed him, bringing him to finally cum heavily into your womb.

Your walls squeezed around his cock, milking him of every single drop until he had to force him to pull out from the oversensitivity of it.

A couple of strands of his pearly white cum squirted over your lips as he gave his final couple strokes to his sensitive tip, aimed at your gaping pussy hole to fill it to the brim.

He smirked proudly as he admired his white load inside your cunt, overflowing like a waterfall from your used pussy and down to your pulsing asshole.

"You're gonna keep this pussy just like this, alright?" he smiled darkly as he gently moved your lacy black panties to cover your cunt and soak in all your - and his - juices.

"No cleaning up. I want to feel it when you walk around out there."

[magnoliasandarson]

birds of a feather

Dick didn't know what to make of the kid. The new "Robin". He was a prick, plain and simple. Robin was supposed to be a beacon of hope and light; this runty asshole was not that. Maybe he was being too harsh, but the kid wasn't exactly trying with him.

He was here, though. Watching him and Bruce train. Bruce wanted him to teach the kid- show him how to fly. Dick had no interest in doing that. But he was still here, in his Nightwing suit, watching the New Dynamic Duo.

The kid was scrappy- quick on his feet. He was still a little asshole, quipping about Bruce being old and slow between hits. Bruce was humoring him, but Dick saw the moment he shifted from tolerating to teaching. Bruce caught the kid above the eye with a jab, dropping the kid. Dick almost winced in sympathy, almost.

The kid landed hard on his ass, scrambling backward. Bruce kicked out, and the kid blocked with his arms. Dick dropped down from the rafters; this was pointless. The kid wasn't Robin. Bruce didn't get to force him to train his replacement; he needed to get back to Blud.

"Stop!" The scream caught him off guard, and Dick turned back to the fight; Bruce had the kid locked in a chokehold, "Please, Willis."

Dick wasn't sure who the fuck Willis was, but he was sure that the kid was twelve, and if the kid wanted out, he would get out, "Let him go, Bruce." There is a steel to his voice that had only come out before when dealing with criminals.

Bruce didn't let go, "Work through it, Robin," Dick watched blood drip off Jason's face onto Bruce's arm, "fight through the panic."

Fuck this. The kid gasped, "'m sorry, Dad-"

Double fuck this- "Let him go," Dick triggered his escrima stick, sparks of blue crackling into existence, "now."

Bruce's face shifted, and he released the kid. He dropped like a stone, shaking like a leaf in the rain. Dick ditched his stick, falling to his knees next to the kid, his body separating the child from Bruce, "it's okay, Jay."

Dick reached a hand out, calling gently, "It's okay, kid," something in his chest cracked when Jason, fuck-when did the kid become Jason, flinched away, "Oh, Jason."

"Get the fuck away from me," Jason hissed, jumping to his feet, "stay the fuck away from me." His eyes were red with unshed tears, and a slow trickle of blood dripped out of his nose.

The crack in Dick's chest deepened to the size of the Grand Canyon. He had fucked this up. This wasn't his replacement; this was a child. A deeply traumatized child. He was going to kill Bruce. Dick stood slowly, kept his arms stretched out, hands palms up, and almost cooed, "It's alright Jaybird."

Bruce stepped forward, and Dick swung an arm out, pushing him back. The old man had gotten them into this mess; he would be no help getting them out. Jason's chest heaved as he scrubbed at his face, "I'm fine," his lower lip trembled, and didn't that break Dick's heart, "I can still train."

He knew he shouldn't- he knew it wasn't the right move- but Dick moved viper quick and wrapped the younger boy in his arms, swaying gently and petting sweaty curls.

"Lemme go," it was little more than a mumble, but Dick heard it loud and clear. He ignored it, tightening his grip and muttering reassurances. Bruce was lurking in the background, but that didn't matter. Right then, in that moment, it was just Jason and Dick. Not Bruce and definitely not Willis, whoever the fuck that was.

Dick had messed up things with the kid Jason from the jump, but he could fix it. He could teach him, fuck Bruce's training- birds of a feather fly together. No Bats allowed.

[anon-sect]

Bensen had long discovered at a young age that he had inherited a rare trait that was passed down his family line on his father's side of the family. It was the ability to transform objects or things into other objects or things. He experimented with it in the days of his youth. When his father found out he had it, he warned him not to use it on living things. He respected his father and his words all the way until he had graduated college. He had a high paying job that dis more than kept the bills paid up. But it wasn't satisfying enough. He wanted something that he could use his inherited ability. So he decided that he would do a part-time gig to make extra money on the side. He posted an advertisement with a fake name of Jack the handler. If there was anyone that needed to be handled or gone, call him. He even brought a separate phone just for his side hustle.

Bensen honestly didn't expect anyone to call, but someone actually called the number in the advertisement. A young woman had complained about her abusive boyfriend, who was both verbally and physically abusive with her. She tried reporting him, but he had connections on the police force. He would only be in jail one day and back into her life again. She really wanted him gone forever from her life. Bensen agreed to handle her abusive boyfriend problem at a cost, which she was willing to pay. She gave him the details of his whereabouts.

The next day, Bensen arrived in a back alley area behind a local restaurant. Just on cue, a young muscular guy about 6'1" tall was stepped out to take his break. He had never transformed a living thing before, so he was excited to do it for the first time. "Is your name Jesse?" He asked. He wanted to make sure he had the right target.

"Yeah, and who are you?" Jesse asked, curious that a stranger would ask for him in a back alley completely out of the ordinary.

"My client asks that you be removed from her life. All the abuse she had to endure the past year has to stop." Bensen spoke, getting ready to take his first human victim as he got closer to him.

Jesse knew exactly who his client was. "That bitch sent you, didn't she? Well, she will regret it when I get home." He spoke, seeing a smile of excitement on the stranger's face.

"You are mistaken. You won't be going home or back to work." Bensen paused as he thought about what he should make the guy become. The guy was a asshole to his girlfriend, may as well become something an ass sits on. "In fact, you are coming home with me." He added.

Jesse didn't know what to make of the stranger, but he definitely wasn't going home with a guy for some gay crap. "Get out of here before I beat your ass to a point your mom won't recognize you." He saw the threat was not working. He saw the stranger's eyes glow for a couple of seconds. Suddenly, he found himself completely immobilized with clothes on top of him. He didn't know exactly what happened, but even his body was different. It was flat and hollowed out.

Bensen fished out a pair of thong underwear from the pile of clothes on the ground. "Wow, it really did work. I can't wait to get home and wear you. You look comfortable." He stuff them in his front pants pocket and left the area before anyone else showed up. But he was too late. Two other employees were taking their break at the same time as well. He didn't anticipate this situation.

Jesse was mortified when he saw daylight again. The stranger was holding him in his hands. After hearing the words 'wear you', he knew exactly what happened. He was somehow transformed into an article of clothing. From the feel of his body, he hated his new form because he had the sinking feeling that he was underwear. He saw himself stuffed in the guy's pocket like property. He mentally cursed at the guy, but seeing that the guy didn't hear a single word.

Willie and Lesner walk out to see a pile of clothes on the ground and a stranger standing next to them. Both looked at the clothes on the ground and happened to see Jesse's name tag on top of them. Being not sure what was going on, Willie was about to question the stranger.

Bensen needed to flee the scene, but didn't want to leave behind witness. He thought of a pair of socks for the two guys in front of him and a small thin nameless rag for Jesse's clothes and shoes.

Willie saw the stranger's eyes glowing for two seconds, and everything changed in an instant. He found himself laying on the cold ground. He couldn't move his body. He tried screaming out for help, but found he had no voice. He heard large foot steps and saw the stranger picking him up off the ground. The stranger was now giant size. He then felt his body was empty on the inside, yet soft cotton on the outside.

Lesner panicked mentally when he realized he was no longer human. He wanted to call out for help as the stranger housted him in the air in his hand. He didn't like what was being said. It was like something out of a nightmare, yet while being awake.

"Awesome, new underwear and a pair of white socks. I see one of you is Willie, and the other is Lesner. Sorry about turning you into socks, but I can't leave behind witnesses. But at least I won't forget your names. I believe you two will make my feet really comfortable." Bensen spoke as he stuffed the socks in his other pocket and ran from the area before anyone else showed up. On the way home, he ran into a former bully from school. He couldn't resist the urge. He turned him into a shirt, grabbed him up, and came home.

Back at him, Bensen got undressed. He wanted so much to feel what it's like wearing a person as clothing.

Jesse saw one leg enter him and then the other. He curse so much it was driving him crazy as he was pulled upwards. His face impacted with the guy's dick and where his penis would have been being cramed up the guy's ass. He was in no way gay, but this was insane. He hated being worn by a guy. This was a nightmare beyondy anything he could have imagined.

Lesner felt a foot enter him. The fact that a human foot controlled all his motion sickended him. He was just a simple bystander, he didn't deserve to an object owned by another guy or even worn on the guy's body.

Willie on the other hand was in bliss. He had fantasy of what it would be like to be a sock. He even dreamt it before. It was his favorite dream he ever had. Now it was a complete reality. He didn't want it to end. In fact, he hoped the guy never turned him back to normal. He had already accepted the guy as his master.

Bensen loved how it felt to wear people as clothing. The surge of authority he had over his new clothes felt so good. He called his client's phone. "This is Jack the handler. Your abusive boyfriend won't be bothering you anymore. In fact, you will never see him again. I put him in a place where I am sure it's a living hell for him. I expect full payment." He spoke over the phone. Within in minutes, he got a text alert of a bank deposit. He was pleased. He made money using his gift while also gaining new clothes that are supposedly are so durable they last for a very long time. He would have to test that theory.

[artiststarme]

Eddie tried to break up with Steve exactly one time. His music career wasn’t taking off like he hoped it would and Steve was going to school and working two part time jobs. He didn’t want to keep dragging him down and forcing him to provide for the both of them. So, Eddie sat Steve down one day for dinner and tried to let him down gently.

He told him that he would move back in with Wayne and that Steve could have the apartment. He said he was sorry for not helping out more and that Steve deserved more than some deadbeat asshole. He emphasized that he loved him but being with him wasn’t going to get Steve anywhere, he deserved more than a Munson.

Through it all, Steve just stared at him unimpressed. When Eddie had finally said all he’d needed to say, Steve picked up the phone and dialed a number all in silence. It was quiet until Eddie heard, “hey Wayne. Can you talk to your idiot nephew, he’s trying to break up with me on my birthday. Yeah, thanks.”

And shit, Eddie had never been good at remembering dates but hearing that he’d missed Steve’s birthday in all of his catastrophizing made him feel like a whole new brand of asshole.

Steve handed him the phone with a whispered, “you better make this up to me. I like chocolate.”

Eddie couldn’t even defend himself against Wayne’s angered hisses. “What the hell, kid? What were you thinking trying to break things off with that boy? You know he’s a part of this family, you can’t just try to nix the kid willy-nilly. Do I have to drive up there? Jesus fucking Christ, Eds.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll fix it!”

“You fucking better. Jesus, I sent the kid some of those hair products he likes but no birthday present is gonna help if you piss him off like that again. Go grovel and you better call back with an update that you fixed everything. Good lord, I’m too old to be dealing with this shit.”

And Eddie did fix it. He took Steve out to dinner at his favorite restaurant and took him to the sports bar he liked to yell at TVs at. Best of all though, he never questioned their relationship again. It would take a few years and more than a few part-time jobs but his music career would take off, Steve would finish school, and they would live happily ever after.

[nicestgirlonline]

Tell me a little more about Hot to go?

Thank you for asking!! It's one of my fanfic for The Bear, my less angsty and sad one haha. It takes place starting in S1 and the reader is a new front of house cashier. She’s very sweet and bubbly, offsetting the stressful environment of the Beef. She fits in like a little sister type to most of the others. I pictured her as an unlucky in love gal, always having a bad boyfriend or going on lame Tinder dates and it burns Carmy up inside but he’s too introverted/trying to stay focused on work to say anything. Of course eventually the jealousy gets to a breaking point ;)

Here’s an unedited snippet from it!

Carmy heard the yelling in the dining room over the bustle of the kitchen but it seemed wrong. He wasn’t sure he had ever heard you yell before, now like that at least. If Richie wasn’t right in front of him, goofing off with Tina, giving him a headache, he’d assumed it was him up front. He heard a clattering of something on the floor and a loud

He burst through the door to the register, “Yo, what’s going on here?” He immediately took in the scene. The large, red in the face man who was screaming at you, while there were coins all over the counter and ground.

“You the manager? She’s got a fucking attitude problem, she is mouthing off to customers willy nilly.”

“Don’t talk to my employees like that. Are you going to order or are you going to leave?” He quickly slid in front of you at the register, making sure he was between you and Mr. Karen.

“What the fuck is this kind of place? Whatever happened to the customer comes first?”

“That only applies to non assholes. It's on the wall.” He pointed to a faded sign that said “no assholes” that hung over the men’s room.

“Now you’re giving me lip, small fry? First this bitch now --”

It all happened at once, Carmy leaping across the counter to shove Mr. Karen to the wall, the rest of the guests scattering and shrieking at the sudden violence. Richie finally decided to poke his head out, baseball bat in hand, ready as backup. You ducked beneath the counter as the two of them removed the man.

You heard the jingle of the door. Richie spoke to the rest of the customers, trying to lighten the mood and assure them everything was back in order. He gave you a nudge with his foot when he took his place behind the register again.

“Take a fifteen kid,” He said softly. “Yo, next customer. Step up, let’s keep it going -”

You slunk to the back, to the small place by the dumpster where you knew you could be completely alone. You’d never been so rattled at a job before. You were ashamed you lost your temper, ashamed of how scared you’d felt, and embarrassed that you had such little control you needed your boss to kick out a customer for you.

You sat with your head in your hands, trying desperately not to cry. You could cry when you got home.

“Hey uh, you good?” Carmy poked his head out, he had his hand in his hair, not really making eye contact.

“Yeah, yeah I’m fine…are you ok? I’m really sorry about all of that. ” He let out a half chuckle, half sigh.

“It was nothing.”

“Richie grabbed a bat.” you pointed out. He rolled his eyes and took a seat on the curb next to you.

“So look, next time if a customer is giving you trouble and you can’t handle it, just come and get me ok?” He leaned in close to you, his big blue eyes sucking you in.

“I’m going to handle my shit I promise. I mean it, I can handle a rude customer. He just started to fly off the handle over nothing and I’m sorry I couldn’t de-escalate”

“Don’t apologize for customers. I know they’re mostly assholes.”

“He was right though.”

“Huh?”

“It is weird we have spaghetti on the menu.”

Carmy laughed. You started to laugh too.

“I do agree with that. I have no idea what Mikey was thinking with that one. Might have to take it off the menu, to keep my cashiers safe.” He grabbed a cigarette from his apron and offered you one. You shook your head. His mouth twisted for a moment, then he lit his own.

That was the first time he had ever brought up Mikey in front of you. You knew a little bit about the story, Mikey used to own the place before Carmy. Nobody really liked to bring it up and you weren’t looking to pry. You knew it was his brother.

The two of you sat in silence while Carmy smoked. You didn’t feel like crying anymore and you were grateful for that.

[twdgwritings]

Hello, sorry English is not my first language, but I would like to ask you for Mitch's headcanon, please, if it's not a bother and thank you very much.

Mitch Headcanons

Parings: Mitch x Fem! Reader

Warnings: death of a parent, typos probably, swearing, my opinions, everyone lives AU, did I miss any?

Summary: General and Romantic headcanons about Mitch!

A/N: I had two requests for Mitch headcanons, so here there are! He is a good guy, wish we got more of him. Sorry this took so long my brain is gone, it left me.

-General-

We all know Mitch was sent to Ericson’s because he fought his neighbors and blew up shit, including his father’s garage. Though to add more depth into his character, I believe Mitch had a little sister, whom he was fiercely protective of. The neighbors he was fighting would sometimes pick on his sister, which lead to the fights though no adult knew that was the reason. I also think Mitch’s father is widowed, his mother died a two years before he got sent off.

He LOVES cowboy boots, don’t ask me why I just feel it in my bones(and it looks like he is wearing them in game). Mitch has a few pairs, probably from some walkers or he found them around the school. Everyone is wondering how his feet don’t hurt all the time, he doesn’t even know.

Mitch is a bigger nerd than he lets on. Other than the fact he is smart enough to understand chemistry and make bombs, but I also think he was a comic book guy. Though he never let anyone else know thinking he would get made fun of.

Pretty close friends with Ruby. Kinda like a sibling relationship, but she smacks him in the head when he does dumb shit. (Which is often)

Puffs his cheeks out when embarrassed, which only gets him (playfully) picked on by the others.

He still has a lot of energy and likes to play fight with the others, but mostly Willy. Of course he doesn’t hurt anyone and it’s all in good fun. One time he was wrestling Ruby (probably because he wasn’t resting hen he got hurt or something, and she wasn’t having that.) so he was holding her down on the ground, giving her shit over how he is stronger than her… and then all the little kids Tenn, Aj and Willy tackled him and began tickling him. (It was Willy’s idea)

Mitch REALLY likes cats. He likes dogs too don’t worry, Mitch loves Rosie. Like if he found one he will steal it and bring it home, congratulations you have a furry baby with him now. Best cat dad 10/10.

He is ticklish and he hates it, the only ones who get away with tickling him are the little ones. Expect Willy, that’s basically his little brother so he will get him back. But if all three kids gang up on him (as mentioned before) he will try to run from them.

Honestly Mitch is a super sweet guy, once you get past all the attitude. He loves playing with the kids and can be the biggest sweetheart towards them, but instantly becomes an asshole when called out on it.

-Romantic-

You know how some people are like; “he picks on you because he likes you!” Yeah that exists because of guys like Mitch. He teases you and makes snarky comments because he has no idea how to handle his feelings, Ruby knows he likes you and she teases him.

His confess probably came from an argument between you two, yelling at him for being so mean and then he snaps back with something like; “I just REALLY like you!” Followed by crickets as you stare at him, Mitch is looking anywhere but you.

When it comes to PDA, he acts like he hates it and pouts but he loves it. I can see him totally being into the holding pinkies thing, it’s simple but adorable. You two standing together, pinkies interlocked and he is blushing like crazy.

He will teach you how to make bombs if you want, but he is super paranoid the whole time. Mostly worried you’re going to get yourself hurt, so he stands over your shoulder and watches like a hawk.

Mitch feels like a super cheesy guy, like romantic cheesy. But it’s an apocalyptic world, so he’s hard to have romantic dates. Your first date was sneaking out of Ericson’s at night, climbing a tree and looking at the stars together. That kind of cheesy, if that makes sense.

He gets too embarrassed to ask you to move into his room with him, so he just waits for you to do ur. Or just hint at it continuously. “Your room seems cramped, maybe you should come sleep in mine.” All the rooms are the same size lol. When you finally move into his room, he becomes hella clingy in private. Cuddling you all the time, has to be touching you. Mitch will let you decorate his room if you want, even if it’s something silly or girly. He will make a smart ass comment but if you try to take it down he gets upset like; “Hey, what are you doing I liked it there.” >:(

Sleeping in the same bed with Mitch is a pain, mostly because he rolls around and will roll ON YOU. He also sleeps kinda heavy, so you’ll have better luck pushing him off yourself rather than waking him up. When Mitch does wake up he kinda cranky like an old man, which you tease him about and he only mumbles a “shut up.”