#on one hand hes so quick to feel like hes lost everything which kinda feels like he may not have much in the way of family?

[logansdoll]

thank you

you never thought you'd be murdered in the middle of an alley... but you also never thought you'd be saved by a man with knives in his fists so... yeah.

CW: suggestive, profanity, the dude that attacks you is clinically insane, Logan's a little socially awkward, your power is kinda bad but kinda good, etc.

It was amazing how quick your day could go from fantastic, to an absolute, fucking shit storm.

Waking up that morning, as you went through your morning routine, something in the air just told you that everything was going to go right.

Your curls turned out perfect after your nightly twist, your makeup flawless, accentuating your natural beauty, and your breakfast sandwich tasted especially delicious.

That, along with the relatively quiet day at the hospital, left you leaving work with a certain pep in your step that made you feel like you could take on anything.

So not once did you plan to end up in the middle of a dark alleyway, and not once did you plan to stand off with a shady, seemingly dangerous, man because of it.

You were too lost in the music of your earphones to notice you had taken a wrong turn, a rookie mistake to make so late at night.

A mistake you were currently cursing yourself for.

"Look," you started, hands up and voice calm in an attempt to placate the irritated man. "I didn't mean to walk over here. I'm just trying to get home."

Slowly, he stalked closer, stance low and beady eyes staring at you in a way that made your stomach drop, and blood run cold.

'Shit.'

"Please... I don't want any trouble," you continued, taking a few steps back, "Just let me pass."

He tutted in response, wagging his finger as a sadistic grin slowly rose to his lips, "People who trespass on my territory gotta pay a toll, sweetheart," he licked his teeth, words slurring together, "and I can see you got more than enough..."

Shamelessly, his eyes dragged over your body, the surface of your skin erupting with a feel of grime and dirt.

You'd need a serious shower when you got home.

If you made it home...

As he drew closer, your hand discreetly slid into your jean jacket pocket, latching onto the cool, metal handle of your switchblade.

You were hoping to de-escalate the situation, but with the way things were looking, you knew you'd probably have to fight your way out.

"I'm only gonna ask one more time," you warned, your tone curt as your expression sharpened into a glare. "Let me go."

Without warning, he let out a manic shout, charging for you at full force.

You let out a shriek of surprise, quickly moving out the way before he could tackle you, whipping your blade out your pocket and flicking it open in one fluid motion.

Quickly, he turned around, expression furious as he ran again, hands out in an attempt to grab you.

And as you tried to dodge, he managed to latch onto the back of your scrub, roughly throwing you to the ground with a grunt.

"Fuck!" you spat, head throbbing as you attempted to sit up, your chest pounding as he grabbed your ankles and dragged you closer.

Fear struck your heart like a freight train, and in a bout of panic, you swung your knife, plunging it into the closest thing you could reach.

He let out a roar of pain, dropping your ankles as he nursed his injured foot, and the handle sticking out of it would've been funny were it not for the dire situation.

Quickly, you scrambled to your feet, stumbling towards your purse which laid on the ground not too far away.

But the man took notice, his foot becoming a thing of the past as he chased you again, scooping up a large shard of broken glass as he ran.

"Get away!" you cried, hugging your purse into your chest as his charge backed you into a corner, your legs giving out as you slid down the wall.

Horrible visions of your fate flashed through your mind as he approached, images of your lifeless body plastered on the nightly news, or your smiling picture on a missing persons poster.

What a fabulous time for your power to chime in...

You squeezed your eyes shut, bracing yourself for whatever was to come, when a loud shink and a pained grunt cut through the air.

Forcing your eyes back open, they landed on a figure, who stood over the dead body of your attacker.

The way the man laid, and the way he was injured, made it look as if he was mauled by some sort of animal.

'Holy shit...'

Pulling yourself back to reality, you realized the figure was now standing right in front of you.

He held his hand out for you to take, sharp, brown eyes flicking between you expectantly.

Finally having the chance to get a good look at him, you took in his appearance.

With his broad chest and strong jaw, you'd think he'd be on the cover of Sexy Bikers weekly, arms and legs thick with muscle under his leather jacket and blue jeans.

Your eyes met in an instant, an electric buzz shooting up your spine at his features.

From what you could see through the darkness, they were sharp, but strong and hard, handsome in their own rugged way.

His lips pulled taut in a line as he stared back, brows furrowing while his eyes flicked around you, almost like he was trying to gauge your reaction.

Slowly, you placed your hand in his allowing him to pull you up to your feet.

"Thank you," you exhaled, shoulders dropping as relief finally sank in your shoulders. "I don't know what I would've done if you didn't come when you did..."

His arms came back to his sides, tiredly, as he awkwardly cleared his throat.

As if he didn't expect you to actually talk to him...

"What're you doin' walkin' by yourself so late?" he asked, his voice a deep rumble. "You got a death wish?"

The sound ignited something in you, a sudden flood of warmth rushing to your stomach, your reply nearly dying in your throat.

"I just got off from work... I wasn't paying attention and turned the wrong corner," you explained, choppily, the embarrassment of your mistake setting in.

It was a stupid one.

Especially for someone who's mutation gave her the ability to see the future.

Or variations of it, at least.

"You got a way to get home?" he asked, resting a hand on his hips.

His arms flexed with the motion, his bicep straining against the jacket sleeve, your eyes drawn to it almost instantly.

You'd never seen a man as handsome as him before, and while you felt bad for gawking, you were more concerned by the flurry of feelings swirling in your chest.

"Cab," you blurted, snapping yourself out of it, "I can hail a cab."

He nodded, smoothly and, to your surprise, silently, stepping to the side and out of your way.

You were ready to head back toward the street, when you suddenly remembered something.

"My purse—" Jittery, the man nervously shoved it into your arms, averting his eyes from your thankful expression.

Your gorgeous, thankful expression.

God, he didn't understand what such a beautiful woman like you was doing in a place like this.

"I found it on the ground over there," he cleared his throat once again, shifting his weight on his feet, "I put your knife back in, too. You might wanna wash it—"

Without warning, you pulled him into a hug, nearly sending his heart into a frenzy.

He kept his hands up, quite confused and unsure of what to do, especially since your impossibly soft cheek was pressed against his chest.

"Thank you... really," you smiled, warmly, as you looked up at him.

God, he was handsome.

Though, you pushed that thought to the back of your mind.

"It was nothin'," he assured, awkwardly, as you backed out.

"I don't suppose I could learn your name, could I?" you asked, a small smile rising to your lips at his social graces.

It was adorable.

Someone so big and strong being so nervous.

Instantly, he tensed, completely taken aback by your bold comment.

Maybe he was imagining things, but he could've sworn your tone made it sound like you were flirting with—

"Logan," he blurted, stiffly.

You grinned, tucking a stray hair behind your ear, "(y/n)."

Slowly, you started toward the mouth of the alleyway, his eyes following you intently, "Well, Logan, I hope we meet again... Then I'll pay you back."

"Not necessary," he assured, shaking his head.

You paused your walk for a moment, turning to glance at him with a devilish glint in your eye.

"We meet again... I'll have something for you," you promised, crossing your fingers.

A shiver rolled down his spine at your words, and you continued on your merry way, exiting the alley and hailing a nearby cab.

Once he was sure you were gone, he let out a loud sigh, allowing his shoulders to sink and a tired hand to run through his hair.

You were something...

One conversation and he already knew you were going to be trouble, the smell of your perfume and the warmth of your smile already plaguing his mind.

He shook his head, taking a deep breath before turning to walk out the alley.

But just as he stepped forward, he felt something under his foot, lifting it to reveal a necklace.

You must've lost it in the melee...

Carefully, he picked it up off the ground, placing it in his pocket before walking out the backstreet.

The next time he saw you... he'd have something for you, too.

[upsidedowngrass]

some days i consider posting my one fanfics but unfortunately my hcs change heavily every 2 days and th n my fics b come OUTDATED and then i suffer

[lunatic-pudge]

Mercs Being Jealous

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(Requested by menenthusiast900069)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Aight, so let's make a quick list of most to least jealous, just so you get an idea of my very bias beliefs, I am semi willing to debate this.

1.) Sniper

2.) Demo

3.) Scout

4.) Medic

5.) Pyro

6.) Soldier

7.) Engie

8.) Spy

9.) Heavy

Now, onto the headcanons!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Scout:

-Such a jealous baby, he can't help it

-A lot of it comes from his insecurities and also being the youngest of eight. He's used to being "the runt" of the group, even with the mercs. So he feels like he has to compete with them for your affection, even if you two are dating

-Like, someone could stand just a little too close to you and he's already starting the side eyes

-Scout, chill, for real for real

-He will attach himself to you once the jealousy kicks in. Arms wrapped around you, nuzzling up against you, it's that inner dog in him

-He will get mouthy with whoever is causing the jealousy. Talks a lot of smack for someone who is built like a damn twig. So it goes from him loving on you, to you having to prevent a fight from happening. Yes, depending on who it is, he can win the fight, he's a mercenary afterall. But when it comes to guys who have a big build like Heavy, then you'll really need to stop him

Soldier:

-Isn't really the jealous type, surprisingly. I think it comes from an oblivious stand point. Like, you need to point it out that someone's flirting with you for him to get even an increment of jealousy

-He really feels like he has nothing to worry about (which he's right). He's more than confident that you're loyal to him cause he is with you

-I feel like when you do say someone is flirting with you, he isn't gonna be violent, moreso he will make a big name and shame thing out of it (he basically did that to Miss Pauling in the comics)

-Like, "Who do you think you are flirting with MY GIRL, maggot! You are a disgrace to this country! Now drop and give me 100!"

-But that don't mean he isn't ready to throw hands. Cause he will. Homie's down to break a few necks. But if you don't want him doing that then you're gonna have to remove him from the situation

Pyro:

-I feel like they're kinda like Solider is the more oblivious aspect, but not as much. Like, they can tell when someone's flirting with you, but whether they truly care or not is up for debate

-I don't really see Pyro as a violent type when jealous. Why waste their energy on someone so insignificant to them?

-If anything, Pyro will just resort to loving all over you, more than usual. All the while giving the offending person a death stare

-It's a very effective form of intimidation

-Cause think about it, are you gonna want to fight a person wearing a flame proof suit, that isn't speaking, and is just giving you the thousand yard stare? No, you wouldn't

Demoman:

-Poor baby can be quite insecure. I feel so bad for him

-Constantly worries about not being good enough. He's so used to being beat down by the people around him that he doesn't have good self-esteem

-He will stand nearby you, waiting for you to notice him, looking like a sad and lost puppy

-Once you finally notice him, you'll have to pry him open to find out what's wrong. He doesn't like burdening you with his problems so he tends to sit and stew about everything til he bursts

-He will need to to reassure him that you aren't going anywhere and that you love him. He needs a lot of verbal reassuring cause he's a worrying lad

Heavy:

-Heavy? Jealous? Where?

-While Scout, Demo, and Sniper might be the top three most jealous, Heavy, Engie, and Spy are the least jealous

-Heavy is this big, strong bear, why would you ever wanna settle for less? Like, frfr, you'd have to have an IQ less than an orange to stoop to such lengths

-But let's play along and say that he did get jealous. One of those very rare times it happens. He knows he doesn't have to do much to make the offender leave, all he has to do is stand there

-And stare.

-And stare..

-And stare...

-He's got that resting angry face so he just has to stand behind you and exist to make people leave you alone. It's kinda funny to think about it. He'll gently take your hand and leave after that

-Why be around people when you two can be locked away in a quite room with a good book?

Engineer:

-Again, not a jealous person. But he does have his moments sometimes

-He's a confident boy and knows you wouldn't do anything. Plus have you seen him? He's an intelligent man, got such a nice voice and accent, and can build a machine to keep you safe

-When he jealous, he's passive aggressive. He doesn't like to be hostile, especially so up front, so he'll do little things to help get his point across

(Would give examples but I'm not passive agressive, I'm just aggressive, oops)

-He'd come up to you, slide an arm around you, give you a kiss on the cheek, and say how he was looking for ya while side eyeing the offender

-THAT MAN COULD USE HIS VOICE TO SEDUCE YOU ALL OVER AGAIN, FIGHT ME

-Weirdly enough, I can see him as someone who will look into the offender, find all the person's info and hand it over to Medic, basically saying "Here's someone you can harvest organs from. Have fun, Pookie."

-Then Medic and Engie proceed to make out and get married. The end

Medic:

-Medic's an interesting fellow. I feel like he's like Pyro where it all depends on his mood. Somdays, he doesn't give a shit, and other days, HE'S FUMING

-He will NOT tolerate the disrespect  >:(

-Cue sassy Medic. This man will verbally murder a bitch and I'm here for it

-Will get "handsy" with you (he'll just throw himself on top of you, maybe even make you hold him bridal style if you're strong enough)

-Will be loving all over you while verbally berating the offender. Everything is getting called out. EVERYTHING. He wants to ensure his point is made

-Buuuut, this can also be a chance to score some fresh, new organs. He's always in the market for that stuff so he can easily kidnap the offender and harvest the goods. And no, you can't talk him out of it. Once his mind is made up, nothing can stop him

Sniper:

-Oh my poor baby boy. Where do I even begin with you?

-Sniper can't help but get so jealous so easily. He's never been one to have relationships with people so when he is in one, he gets so insecure at times

-Worries he's not good enough at times. He know he's a "quirky" individual, so he worries you'll want to be with someone who's more "normal"

-Will stand nearby, giving the offender dirty looks. They can feel the daggers that Sniper is giving them, it's enough to make them leave

-Afterwards, he'll pull you away from everyone and be all over you

-While Demo needs verbal reassurance, Sniper needs physical reassurance. So please love on him and tell him it's gonna be okay and that you love him and only him

-But I can also see him needing to prove that he's better than any guy through "fun" means (Medic would too but I forgot to add it. They both horny jealous people)

Spy:

-Again, not a jealous person, and rightfully so

-We all know how suave this man is. He can pull anyone and everyone without even trying

-But I'm sure even Spy has his own moments when he feels a slight bit of jealousy

- He'd be so pissy with the offender. Like, fuck you, pal. That's MY partner

-Welp, time to go over there and seduce you all over again, which isn't hard for him to do. He's got that magic in him, ya know? He;s a man who knows what words to say and what moves to make. He'd make the offender jealous that they couldn't be with Spy

[trashogram]

He Chose You (Pt. 8)

Lucifer/Reader: Lucifer chooses you to be the mother of his child. Rated E.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 13.5 | Part 14 | End

The illness persists in the weight of your skin over your bones yet the loss of actual muscle and fat that turn you skeletal. Your legs become bow-like and pain radiates just above your hairline. Your vision crackles with scattered flashes of black dots, and you drink like a man lost in the desert. 

Only foods that are red stay down, and even then you only nibble at peppers and plug your nose at the raw meat you stuff in your mouth. You feel the sunlight outside your window when you open it up and stick your hand through, as walking out of your apartment is a chore you can only handle once a week at most. 

Once a homebody, reclusive out of necessity and exhaustion from simple interactions, you now live for Lucifer’s chatter. His presence abates your fever, physically and emotionally. The dependence on him, as sweet as he appears, makes you itch inside. 

Everything is terrible, you tell yourself at least once per day, as the illness persists. 

But if Lucifer is good at anything, it’s providing you with distractions from the ever-present suffering.

—

The sounds you made put the Angelic Choir to shame. 

“Lucifer, don’t say that!”

The King of Hell’s laugh was muffled as he stayed buried in your cunt. The memory of you being so flustered was almost just as sweet. 

He eyed your tightly screwed expression just over your growing belly, and felt gratified at his idea to have you propped up by pillows from head to hips. With the boost, Lucifer could watch you enjoy yourself and remain comfortable. 

Let him feel the springs of your mattress dig into his knees and stomach. They were secondary to the pain of his own hardness straining in his slacks. 

A keen from you, and the feeling of your nails as they raked through his hair and over his scalp, had Lucifer moaning. His eyes rolled back, momentarily blinded by euphoria. 

“Ooh!” 

Eyes snapping open, Lucifer lifted himself from the bed quickly. His tongue slipped out of you, dripping onto the sheets when he was mindless to reeling it back in.

“Why’d you stop?” Your whine between quick pants made him blink.

One eye at a time. 

“I thought I hurt you.” He smiled, sheepishly, once his tongue was back in his mouth. 

His mauve-lids and golden lashes fluttered when you wiped the slick from his chin. There was no missing the color that had returned to your cheeks with all the exertion he was putting you through, and he felt a swell of pride at being able to breathe life back into you. So to speak. 

“Heaven help me.” You said, sarcastically. 

Breathlessly.

The Devil’s hips jerked when your hand rose to grip a fistful of his blond hair. You manually lowered him back between your legs, heedless to the way his entire frame shivered.

— 

‘I think I… I think I’m in love with her.’ Lucifer looked so earnest, meeting the glow of Ozzie’s stare. 

The Sin clucked a tongue in his King’s direction, shaking his head. ‘Well, don’t tell her that. You’re gonna scare her away, man.’ 

—

Lucifer watched you fall apart from just his tongue (its length and width being inhuman notwithstanding). 

You were so beautiful like this. Legs shaking, body spasming, letting go.

‘I love you.’ 

Man’s (alleged) Greatest Enemy could just barely contain himself. 

‘I love you I love you I love you’ 

—

Lucifer brings you another scroll one sunny day, and you find it riddled with names. 

“I’ve been thinking about what to call him or her, so I made a list! …Kinda, sorta during a meeting… whatever, it wasn’t that important!” 

Oh, you could see that. 

“Do you like any of them? Which are your favorites? No! Gimme your top 5!” His jubilation is so innocent, but something inside you hitches. 

“Does it actually matter what I think?” You chuckled. 

“Of course it does!” He cried. “You’re the mo— uh… you’re putting in most of the work!”

The weak save went unchallenged. You were already circling names, likening the process to navigating a minefield as you looked through a long line of names you couldn’t even pronounce or read. 

‘Ehb 

Horus

Azor 

Carlton’

“What about a girl?” Lucifer asked out of the blue. 

Your head cocked to the side as you realized your picks had been relegated to just one side of the endless list. That he’d written down names for boys and for girls struck you as odd. 

 “You think it’ll be a girl?” 

Lucifer looked at you with a curious gaze. “Could be, couldn’t it?”

After a moment, you shrugged. “I guess so…” 

The King’s confusion crinkled around his eyes and caused an uncanny few lines in his otherwise perfect forehead. You flick the pen at him teasingly to wipe the look from his face.

You write a few names down, and watch with a smirk as his frown turns upside down. 

‘Adrienne 

Charlotte

Maleficent’

You ignored the painful thought that this was a pointless endeavor. Naming a dead thing.

—

With eyebrows raised, you sat waiting dutifully, hands clasped over your stomach while he rummaged through the box. 

“Aha!” He pulled out two red objects, one in each hand, and knee’d the chest out of the way to present them to you.

“Surprise!”

Two remarkably crafted stuffed animals were set before you on the couch cushion. 

Goats. 

It took you a second to place them, staring at their intricate appearances — covered in fluffy red fur from head to cloven hoof, with large yellow eyes and tiny red smiles stitched on their stark white muzzles. 

Shiny, metallic-looking horns curled over the curvature of their little heads, tips almost touching the tiny approximations of wings protruding from their backs. You noticed that the little wings were also sticking out of the backs of their tiny tuxedo suits; solid black to further contrast their Luciferean color schemes. 

An uncharacteristically high-pitched squeal escaped you. 

Damn these hormones. You internally chastised yourself while reaching out to finger at the detailed plushies. 

“They’re so cute!” You admired the unbelievable softness of one’s fur, hand overlapping with Lucifer’s as you turned it this way and that. His grin was so wide in your peripheral vision as he soaked up your fawning.

“Aren’t they?!” Lucifer squealed along with you. “They’re twins! But see this one has lighter fur and this one has sharper eyes. I tried to give them little differences so they had some individuality.” 

“Michael and I looked so similar in the Beginning, a ton of people always got us mixed up. Sometimes it was fun, but I got tired of hearing him bitch about it after the first couple centuries.”

A more serene countenance overtook your counterpart, with his line of sight drifting off to the floor beside you. Lost in thought. Or perhaps reminiscing. 

“Michael?” You asked gently. 

“My brother.” Lucifer replied. 

“Ohh, I think I remember… is he a Prince of Hell too?” 

The formerly Divine man frowned. “… No. Not him.”

A shadow fell over you both, distant sadness suffusing the air. You reached for him instantly, only for Lucifer to switch on like a lightbulb and grin manically. 

“Oh well! Who knows, maybe he took Dad’s side just to make sure no one ever confused us for each other ever again!” 

You pulled away. “… right.” 

Lucifer shook his head after a glance in your direction. 

“Um, so, I was thinking…” He began. “Maybe we give one to the baby an-nd… one could stay here… with you…” 

There was no hiding the confusion that crossed your face. 

You ‘tsk’ed. “You wanna deny the baby half this cuteness?” 

In response, Lucifer tittered, still adamant on looking around the room instead of meeting your gaze head on. “Hah, no. I was thinking that, maybe, we could keep one of them here and… and then they could reunite every time the baby and I… or just the baby… visit…”

Slow realization made your already weak constitution roil. 

Perhaps, if you’d been yourself and not the hollow shell of a person you’d become while pregnant, you would’ve been angry. Or upset enough to shout. Maybe you would’ve gotten up and left him there on his lonesome, wordlessly demanding he not entertain that idea ever again. 

Certainly, the You from before this insane, impossible scenario wouldn’t hesitate to react melodramatically. 

You sighed, fiddling with one of the goat’s tails. “Oh Lou…” 

He cringed beneath the weight of your words, laden with a heaviness that harshened his already guilty conscience. 

“Wait, before you say no —” Lucifer felt his mouth running away from him. “Maybe you could think about it and then decide? Maybe after they’re born?”

“It doesn’t have to mean anything. I don’t expect anything from you.” 

“You’re expecting me to be its mother.” Your tone broke no room for argument. 

Mauve eyelids drooped as Lucifer looked down in shame. “I — ”

“I wouldn’t make a good mom.” Your statement stopped him in his tracks. 

Frustration simmered in Lucifer, slowly creeping into his expression as you continued, unrelenting. His posture went rigid, hands beginning to clench at his sides.

“It’s not that I don’t care. I probably care too much, actually.” You admitted.

It was true. Regardless of your paranoia and how justified it was or not, the sole basis for why you felt the need to argue in the first place —

(And wasn’t that just pathetic? You had feelings for the Epitome of Evil and had entertained being safe and happy with him) 

— the reality was that you’d been a broken human being before this cosmic impossibility entered your life. 

“I just don’t…” You sighed. “I wouldn’t be a good part of their life if I was in it.” 

Your head whipped up, vision spotting when Lucifer blurted:

“You are the best part of my life.” 

He looked angry. Furious. So much so that the sclera around his irises began to radiate a blood-red. 

“Do you know how hard it is? To leave you? I have to convince myself every single time that you’ll still be here when I return!” Lucifer claimed. “And soon I won’t even be able to do that!” 

“I don’t want to say goodbye forever! I… I l…” 

You shuddered, stiffening in your seat. As soon as he realized, Lucifer’s display was cowed. 

“Fuck, are you alright? I’m not — I don’t know what came over me!”

You shook your head. “No.” 

“It stopped.” You whispered. 

Lucifer’s grip trembled around your wrists. “Stopped?”

His breathless echo of your words drew your eyes up. You saw the storm brewing in his ruby eyes, as even though he waited for you to elaborate, a million thoughts pelting at his brain like hail. 

“The pain stopped.” You said. 

Your hands felt over the bump beneath your breasts, as if you might find the imaginary ‘off’ button and turn it back on.

It was ludicrous to think about, but you immediately wished for the agony that had been crippling you to return if it meant that this baby wasn’t… wasn’t… 

Tears glistened in your eyes. Lucifer drew you to his chest in spite of the fear that was pulling his shoulders taut. 

“Wh-what did you do today? Anything different?” The ex-Angel asked shakily. 

His eyes scanned you up and down, lingering on the little dolls he’d just gifted you. 

“No… n-no, nothing different.” You said. “I was in bed all morning, and th… then Cass was here and we had tea… we went out and walked a little bit outside.” 

“Did you fall?” The King hedged. 

You gasped, eyes widening. Instinctively your arms wrapped around your middle at the foreign feeling emanating from within. 

“Did…! You fell??” He panicked, grabbing onto you like a life raft. “Where? On what?!”

His words drifted away as you were enveloped in the strangest surge of feeling you’d ever experienced. 

You could only just muster up the energy to shake your head. 

Sudden warmth. 

And pressure. 

A tiny flutter, one you’d never felt before. 

You inhaled quickly yet deeply at the feeling of something pressing against your belly-button from the inside. 

It made you grin, hands coming back to grab for Lucifer’s own and to pull them to your stomach. “They’re alive!” 

The man’s jaw went slack, staring sightlessly for just as long as it took to soak up the sudden heat there. The baby took pity on its poor, trembling father and kicked again. 

It was Lucifer’s turn to gasp, looking back and forth between you and the bump with dawning awe. 

“It is!” He laughed, a tad bit hysterically. “It — they are alive!” 

“… And… glowing…”

“You’re glowing!”

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[callme-holly]

Hi! I was wondering if you could write about Dallas having a serious crush on a girl and getting embarrassed telling his friends about it. Love your writing! Thank you so much!

'𝐈 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐈 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝.' [𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 𝐝𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡]

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 - this is very all over the place... I might write a part 2 to this where our boy confesses but we'll see. I'm a little behind on requests so I apologise but I swear I will get to them eventually!! Hope ya'll enjoy and as always my asks are still open for requests!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 727 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - mild swearing

Okay so, Dallas wouldn't admit to having a crush straight away, in fact, he'll probably deny it for as long as he possibly can.

I imagine he first saw you at the drive-in with Johnny and Pony and he could not stop looking at you. You had his full, undivided attention and nothing could distract him from you.

When they noticed, Pony and Johnny teased him endlessly for it but, because Dallas was known to have a reputation, they didn't take his staring as anything unusual. They pretty soon forgot about you.

Dallas, however, did not. He couldn't seem to stop thinking about you and when he finally spotted you again he was very quick to strike up conversation.

He found that there was more to you than just a pretty face and took quite a liking to you.

Needless to say, after that first interaction, you had a certain greaser chasing after you like a lost dog wherever you went.

If he's hanging out with the gang and you walk past, you best believe he's dropping everything to follow after you. He doesn't care who he's with, (unless it's Johnny, in which case you'll have two greasers following after you) he will make up an excuse just to run across the street and catch up with you.

it's at this point that the gang will probably notice something is up.

Sure, Dallas chases after girls all the time, but very rarely will he stick to the same one.

When they discover from Ponyboy that you're the same girl he had been obsessing over at the drive-in, they're very quick to catch on and it won't take them long to bring it up to their friend.

One night, they'll all be hanging out at the Curtis House and Two-bit will just casually ask Dallas where he's been running off to every now and then.

Dallas will of course brush them off and tell them to "mind their own" before changing the subject a little too fast to just be casual.

Throughout the night, the boys will then start to drop your name every so often just to gauge Dallas' reaction.

This carries on for a few more weeks (I told you he's stubborn) before he finally admits that he might have feelings for you.

Obviously he tells Johnny first before finally breaking the news to the rest of the gang.

Needless to say, they are all shocked and I can imagine it going a little something like this:

“You what?!”  Dallas winces, taking a long drag from his cigarette as the gang all stare at him wide-eyed. He looks between them, trying to gauge their reactions and finding only confusion with a hint of concern for their friend's well being. “Are you feelin’ okay?” Two-bit raises a hand to Dallas' foregead, only to be slapped away by the hoodlum, earning a scowl in response. “Cut that out, will ya?” He straightens up, placing the cigarette between his lips once more. “It ain’t that big a deal–”  “It kinda is, Dal.” Pony interrupts, tilting his head slightly. “I ain’t known you to settle down with no one.” Dallas grunts. The kid has a point; he doesn’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to dating. Hell, the longest relationship he’d ever been able to maintain had lasted around a month before the girl had gotten tired of his bullshit antics and had dropped him without a second thought. At least that hadn’t been his fault. All the other times, though–well, he wasn't exactly the poster child for healthy relationships.  “Maybe I'm just bored,” he suggests weakly, ignoring the collective eyeroll of the rest of the group. “I mean, there's only so much sleepin' around I can do, man.” It wasn't a lie. He was tired; tired of getting dumped whenever things went south or getting hurt whenever he tried too hard. He wouldn't admit it to anyone, but he just wanted something more. Something permanent. “Never thought I’d live to see the day where Dallas Winston was swoonin’ over a girl.” Steve remarks and Dallas can’t help but roll his eyes, taking his cigarette from his mouth to flick the ashes onto the floor, ignoring the glare he receives from Darry.  “Keep talkin’ like that and you won’t live to see tomorrow.”

So, yeah... he gets pretty defensive real quick and won't take any teasing from anyone.

Let's just say, when he does finally ask you out, he's got six cheerleaders watching from afar.

𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬!!

[hitlikehammers]

to die by your side (is such a heavenly way to die)

rating: t ♥️ cw: angst with a happy ending (which is actually kinda fluffy?), limbo/near-death experiences, post-S4/Upside Down-heavy, falling in love ♥️ tags: falling for each other in the space between life and death, happy ending

for @steddielovemonth day twenty-six: Love is a fire that never goes out (@sidekick-hero)

this is because of 1) this song being too close to the prompt for me to disengage it in my head, and the chorus therefore dictating this plot line, and 2) @hbyrde36 picked it and, again, I am very susceptible to people indicating they like a thing and would enjoy more, so @hbyrde36: I hope you enjoy what this became ♥️

“Oh fuck, not you, too.”

Steve looks up—when did he sit down, he doesn’t remember sitting down, he doesn’t remember how even got here, and hey, actually, where is here—

“What?” Steve looks toward the voice; familiar. See the wreath of curls around a pale face.

“This is death, right?” Eddie’s crossing over to him, crouching just beside; “I’m dead, like, I am very sure I’m dead, but you’re here, so—“

“I don’t,” Steve breathes in sharp—tries to get his bearings, tries to see but it’s just black in every direction, his lungs feel like they’re halved in size all of sudden, everything feels tight and painful and hard like inhaling isn’t something guaranteed, and his heartbeat feels like it’s dragging the carcass of something with it when it pumps, laborious and—

He’s is breathing, though, even if it’s kinda half-assed; he’s got a heartbeat, even if it feels like it’s about to fucking give out.

That doesn’t…that doesn’t sound like death.

“I,” Steve licks his lips; his mouth is so fucking dry but swelling kinda hurts and…he’s not as fucked up as he has a feeling he should be, he needs to think harder than he’s ready for just now to figure out what the last thing that happened between where he was, and where he is but: he thinks he should be more fucked up on, like, an instinctual level that knows he should be pretty fucked up, basically, and he’s not.

But again: he still hurts, and that…also doesn’t sound like death.

He swallows anyway; not that it helps.

“Max said there was this, black void,” Steve works through the first thing that comes to mind slowly, processes as he speaks; “with water,” and he looks down and sees the ripples in what he’s sitting in, moving around him but…but the reflections are right, and there’s no light so how are there even wrong reflections; he wasn’t good in his science classes but he feels pretty sure you need light to see anything in a mirror, plus—

“Water,” he flicks his hand from the standing pool around him up at Eddie without warning: “that wasn’t wet.”

Eddie splutters, but it dies down quick: it’s supposed to be wet. He expects it to be.

But it’s not. His eyes go so fucking big.

“It’s attached to the Upside Down,” Steve pushes on; “Eleven can like, come here, but,” he shakes his head and Eddie grimaces: she lost her powers.

“So it’s almost-death,” Eddie surmises, and drops into the not-water next to Steve.

“I guess so,” Steve shrugs, and draws his legs up; hugs his knees.

“Fucking great,” Eddie huffs, sneers, and it’s…Steve not sure why exactly, but it feels…targeted. Directed at him, because one, yes: he isthe only other thing here—as far as he can tell—but the words Eddie’d no-greeted him with float back into his consciousness:

Not you.

“Sorry to rain on your parade, man,” Steve bites out and shoves his head down between his thighs, maybe to breathe, maybe to think, maybe to hide, maybe to fucking cry, maybe to…fuck, he doesn’t even know.

He thinks he’s in the middle of trying to split the difference of every possible thing when Eddie’s voice breaks the still in the dark: “I didn’t,” and honestly, Steve’s never heard that voice sound so soft, so small; “that’s not what I meant,” and it’s an apology even if they words don’t add up exact, Steve feels it clear like a blow to the solar plexus. He turns to Eddie, who’s staring out at the nothing.

“I don’t want to be alone,” Eddie whispers, and his lip trembles, Steve can see that despite the lack of light.

Steve can see tears on that face, too, despite the lack of any light.

“But I hate that you’re here,” Eddie’s voice catches on kind of a whine, and Steve maybe would startle, when a hand reaches out and covers his; Eddie still does look at him, but he flattens his hand over Steve’s like a squeeze:

“That you’re here, too.”

And, oh. Okay.

Okay.

They’re here, then. Together.

Here.

___________________

It takes a while—he thinks; he thinks it’s a while, but one of the first things that makes itself plain in this godforsaken place is how times means absolutely fucking nothing, so; he think it takes a while to remember the vines.

They were coming back for Robin, and Steve would die before he let her get hurt so: that’s the last thing he remembers.

For Eddie, it’s the bats; Steve grimaces, hates even imagining like…swarms of them. More of their bites.

He’s the one who reaches for Eddie’s hand, this time—he wants to say it’s just a little comfort for the particularly bad things that are coming up as they sit here, as they draw patterns in the not-water and blow against it to make little waves just for shits, mindless and stupid: he wants to say that when it gets too much, and then keeps going, when it’s the worst, they’ve started to reach because what else can they do? Who else can they lean on?

Who’s gonna fucking know?

Actually: no. He doesn’t want to say that.

He wants to say the truth: the truth being they touch a lot. They reach a lot. They reach because it’s quiet. They reach because it’s dark. They reach because they’re frustrated. Or they’re scared. Steve could map Eddie’s calluses blind if he was asked to. Eddie traces his veins without being able to see close enough to know that he’s right.

He wants to say the truth: that he wants to touch. He craves it. And not just from anyone.

He craves this.

He doesn’t know what that fucking means.

But he’s the one who reaches, and covers Eddie’s hand, presses down to keep him when Eddie remembers the bats.

And he’s the one who leans, who rests their shoulders together and holds his breath.

But Eddie is the one who doesn’t move away, who leans in too, he tips his head onto Steve and breathes out slow so Steve can feel the warm damp of it on his skin and…

Steve’s heart’s fucking pounding, but then also it’s kinda like fluttering, and either way:

That’s not death.

___________________

Steve likes that the not-water is…not water, because lying back in it doesn’t fuck up his hair. Which…feels cleaner than it should be he figures maybe that’s just the same as both he and Eddie not being riddled with the wounds they should be rights be covered in—he can run his hands through it and that’s really all he wants, his hands, or like, you know if other hands wanted—

Whatever; he’s not going to question the not-water. He’s happy it doesn’t make him a wet dog just for trying to lay back and pretend there are stars.

Which he’d still be doing, if a weird…flapping noise hadn’t started up over to the left.

He has to squint in the no-light to see what the fuck’s going on, something in Eddie’s hands, oh shit, flapping, is it one of those fucking bats—

“What the fuck?”

Eddie freezes, and turns. And Steve sees what’s in his hands.

Doesn’t change his question.

Eddie just blinks at him. And runs his thumbs over the desk of cards he’s holding, flicking them one by one: flapping.

“Where the hell did those come from?”

Eddie shrugs. “Pocket.”

Steve gapes a little.

“You’ve had them the whole time?” because again, even if the feeling’s shifted: what the fuck

“Lots of pockets, man,” Eddie grins cheekily as he shakes his jacket out, like Steve can see any pockets.

Then he’s walking over to Steve on his knees before dropping cross-legged and shuffling the deck before he taps them out on his thigh and leans in:

“Pick your poison.”

And Steve’s played his share of cards, is actually pretty decent at poker, but, like…

“I don’t,” he bites his lip and stares at the predictable red pattern of the face-down cards;“I don’t want to think,” he finishes, kinda fucking lame, but Eddie’s not deterred, flips a few cards off the top with a thump before balancing the rest on his knee, offering half the cards he’s still holding to Steve with a little wiggle of his eyebrows:

“Go Fish?”

And Steve, he, like—

This is not-death, right, but whatever it is, it’s probably not good, and yet here Steve sits, with five cards in his hand and…Jesus.

He feels his lips stretch and he doesn’t think he’s smiled like this in…

In a while.

___________________

“Three Musketeers,” Steve answers when they’re lounging in the not-water, heads lined up so sometimes Steve feels the tickle of Eddie’s curls.

“The fuck?” Eddie huffs a laugh; the question was just things they’d miss if they never get out of here; like, it’s a little morbid and also a little hopeful all at once.

They’ve been working deeper in the category of food for a bit now, and so it’s candy bars. And Steve does not see what’s controversial about his choice, honestly.

“I love those, shit,” Steve waves his hand in the air, dismissing Eddie’s very wrong opinion, here; “they’re just,” Steve hums, tries to figure out the best way to defend a genuinely fucking excellent snack food:

“They’re simple,” and that sounds like a weak defense but look at where they are, look at their lives, that is fucking high praise. “Not too sweet and like, light and airy and,” Steve tilts his head, imagines the mouthfeel:

“Kinda delicate when you bite into ‘em,” he feels himself grin a little: “like bubbles or something,” because…yeah.

They’re awesome, but then he looks over at Eddie, who’s already turned to look at him, his gaze…something. Weighty but not oppressive. Piercing but not painful.

“Sorry,” Steve feels himself flush and it’s no the first time, or the worst time, but he’s grateful just like he is every time that there’s no fucking light and whatever lets them see at all doesn’t give away a blush; “sorry, that’s—“

“That’s adorable,” Eddie says with something…equally undefinable in his voice as much as his eyes, but this thing makes Steve feel, like, warm and tingly, a little, under his skin, in his chest; “you’re right, they’re…” and Eddie reaches for his hand, which they do a lot, yeah, but not…not so often for good things and this feels…like a good thing.

“They’re really good,” Eddie presses his hand over Steve’s, like a blanket, all encompassing—Steve has broad hands but Eddie’s fingers are longer than he’d ever noticed and he—

Steve likes how they fit.

“Under-appreciated, I think,” Eddie’s voice has lowered, softened, and it kinda feels like he’s saying something that has nothing to do with candy bars at all: “because people aren’t looking close enough to see how amazing it is.”

Yeah, for how Eddie’s staring at him, and for how Steve’s pulse has ramped up all of a sudden: Steve doesn’t really think Eddie’s talking about chocolate at all.

___________________

“You’re really good company.”

Eddie turns and blinks Steve’s way.

“What?”

Steve swallows; he’s not sure what made him say it. Except that it’s true.

“I’d have liked it,” he starts, like, expands on the point rather than revisiting the simple part; “if we could have, y’know,” and he gestures between them; “hung out.”

Eddie tilts his head, and he doesn’t smile exactly, but it kinda feels like his whole face, maybe his whole body, is a smile.

“Well,” he huffs a little laugh, like a disbelieving sound; “we’re hanging out, now.”

And Steve smiles the normal way, which is probably lesser to look at, but he wishes really hard that Eddie could, like, slip under his skin and see how it feels on the inside. “Yeah,” Steve grins at the darkness for a second, chews his lips a little, suddenly kinda…bashful, fuck:

“Yeah we are,” and then he breathes in deep, and makes himself be brave with something he doesn’t wholly understand:

“I like it,” and that’s an understatement.

And then Eddie hums, and covers Steve’s hand as he murmurs:

“Me too, sweetheart.”

And Steve’s heartbeat catches on that word, or more, reaches for that word, that name, greedy and wild and it pounds out that same desperate mantra blood-in-blood-out unwavering:

not-dead, not-dead, not-dead, not—

___________________

Eddie’s smile is so fucking pretty.

He didn’t know what Speed was, like the card game, so they’ve each got a pile balanced on a knee as the flip and they’re pressed up tight at their crossed legs to make a little table from their limbs for the discards and Eddie’s just…

It’s not just his smile.

“My grandpa taught me to play,” Steve comments idly, mostly just for something to say when it looks like they’re stuck and need to flip from the sides.

“It’s chaotic,” Eddie looks up and meets Steve’s eyes, his own fucking glittering when the lack of light should make that impossible but Steve thinks Eddie is kinda impossible so probably it fits.

“I like it,” he proclaims, as he reaches for another card to start the momentum back up, raises an eyebrow at Steve and waits for him to follow suit like he’s the expect, like Steve didn’t fucking just show him this game—

“You would,” Steve snorts and Eddie?

Eddie just beams bigger, and that catches in Steve’s pulse, nudges it to sing something that’s more than just not-dead; that’s more…

That feels more

___________________

It’s the more-feeling that breaks him, in the end.

“You called me big boy.”

Steve doesn’t really have control over his mouth, when it happens. Or else, like, he doesn’t think before the words tumble out, and the lie in the not-water and stare at the absence of the starts in the not-sky.

His heart’s jumped up to his throat, now.

Eddie’s quiet, for a while, even if time doesn’t mean anything here; Eddie’s quiet, and Steve’s heart wants to jump out of his fucking mouth but if it does than it’s got two destinations: it can’t drown in the not-water so that’s fucking useless, and then there’s Eddie, Eddie’s hands, Eddie’s chest and—

“I,” Eddie finally speaks, and his voice is rough, far away;“I, yeah.”

Steve doesn’t know what he was expecting. He wasn’t planning on saying anything so there weren’t any expectations built in.

“You looked at me,” Steve’s whispering, but it wavers, it moves with the force of his blood; “like you…” Steve licks his lips, swallows a whimper because what is he doing, what is he doing—

“Being almost-dead is really going to take the thunder out of your backlash on this, Harrington,” Eddie cuts into his panic and Steve’s head snaps over to look, to try and read Eddie’s expression: scared. Bracing for impact. Like Steve would, like Steve could ever—

“No, no, I,” Steve raises himself up and scoots over to Eddie, grabs his hands and presses them together in his own, never once looks away from Eddie’s eyes as they stretch wide.

“What did you mean?” because Steve’s started this, and Eddie’s anxious for it and…he needs Eddie to understand he’s not upset, he’s confused, his heart’s all swollen for it, he just, he—

“With the, with calling me that, and with leaning in like you did in the woods,” his breath’s shaking on the exhale: “with all the looks,” and he tries to leave it all in his eyes, on his face, open and clear for all that he doesn’t understand, but also for all that he…that he hopes.

Eventually, Eddie sighs, and squeezes his eyes shut tight, almost like a wince.

But he doesn’t pulls his hands away.

“You’re not stupid, Steve.”

Steve shakes his head, even if Eddie can’t see it.

“I’m very stupid.”

And Eddie’s eyes fly open, look wrathful, look offended on…Steve’ behalf, what the fuck?

And yeah, yeah, he’s opening his mouth now to fight him, to fight Steve about Steve and…no. No, that’s not the point.

“I’m stupid,” Steve says again, but quick so he can get it out; “about like,” he tries to find the right words and remembers Robin’s point on it once:

“About, you know, matters of the heart.”

Eddie’s features slacken, and his mouth drops open as he blinks at Steve before he eventually chokes out:

“Heart?”

But Steve can hear it. He can hear the confusion, like his own, but also just like his own:

He thinks he can hear the hope.

“You held that bottle to my throat and all I wanted was for you to lean closer,” he confesses, and it feels amazing, like he can breathe again, or see in color even though there’s so little color, here.

“And slit it?” Eddie croaks, incredulous, still a little slack-jawed and Steve laughs, because he can breathe, and—

“And kiss me, you dick.”

Eddie’s mouth snaps shut, and his eyes somehow get bigger, and his chest’s heaving and Steve wants that not to be for fearing, he wants Eddie to be anything but scared, he wants Eddie to be hoping—

“Stevie,” Eddie barely breathes and…it’s not scared, or else, not like it could be. It’s hesitant. It’s…full, of something Steve thinks might be incredible.

“You call me sweetheart,” Steve leans in, pushes the point, leans more until he’s close enough where he can feel Eddie’s breath on his face; “here. Now.”

Eddie nods immediately, doesn’t try to hide from it.

“Yeah, I do,” he breathes, and watches Steve so careful, unblinking.

“What does it mean,” Steve pushes, angles his lips without even thinking, without making the choice but Eddie?

Eddie makes the choice, and he kisses Steve so fucking sure and sweet and still wild somehow and Steve never wants to not be here. Never wants to not have this mouth under his, never wants to not have Eddie’s hands in his own: he doesn’t wholly understand it, where it comes from or what all it means but…his heart’s fucking dancing, the joy’s almost sore for it’s size and when Steve breathes between them, when they break for half a second to breathe and stare and marvel and Eddie looks like he’s entranced, like he’s overjoyed, and the only other thing here is Steve?

Fuck. Fuck.

If this ends up being death, that’s okay. That’s okay, as long as there’s also this.

___________________

He’s on top of Eddie’s chest, curled so so close, when it starts to feel…different. In his body. Like something pulling him.

The dark is still absolute but it almost feels like they’re on the brink of something, like dawn could come.

Steve fucking hates it.

“I don’t want to die alone,” Eddie whispers against his head, kisses at his hair.

“I don’t want you to die,” Steve grits out, almost violent, because isn’t this how it started, wasn’t that what Eddie meant, that he didn’t want Steve here, too—but Steve won’t accept that.

He cannot fucking accept that.

“I don’t want you to die at all.”

Eddie drags the tip of his nose back and forth against Steve’s hair some more as he breathes, breathes, breathes—

“To die by your side,” Eddie murmurs low; “would be my privilege,” and Steve chokes on a whine, a sob—it’s too much. It’s too much, and he needs this man, he needs him so much, he think he fucking loves hi—

“Maybe it’s not dying,” Steve tries, looks out into the abyss and he can’t see what’s on the way but he feels it; they both feel it: “maybe we’ll,” and he grabs Eddie’s hand and brings it to his lips.

“Maybe we’ll wake up.”

Maybe. Maybe.

“Kiss me,” Eddie exhales and Steve pulls back, slides up Eddie’s chest and hovers over him, makes to claim his lips but then Eddie lifts a palm, pauses Steve as he presses it over his racing heart and blinks at him, makes the tears fall from his lashes:

“Kiss me again when we wake up.”

And Steve will, he will, but.

He’s gonna kiss Eddie now, too. He’s going to kiss Eddie always.

He thinks his heart’s going too fast to beat out words but that, in itself, has to mean something that isn’t…death.

So he pours that conviction, and all the hope he’s got left, into Eddie as he devours him, breathes into him like they can melt together, like if Steve’s air lifts Eddie’s lungs they’ll be one person, one living soul and whatever happens…

Whatever happens will take them both.

___________________

Eddie splutters, clutches his chest; his heart’s racing, it feels like his blood’s on fire because every beat fucking burns, and the tear of his shirt where it’s stuck to his skin—dried blood, fucking hell—all up his side is absolutely disgusting, Jesus fuck—

“Eddie!”

He turns and that, that’s Henderson, and he squints; that’s Henderson running toward him, less than a minute away at that pace and Eddie doesn’t know if he can sit up but he’ll try, he digs his fingers into the mud and makes to lift—

And then something crashes into him, pins him right back down.

Covers his hands. Presses.

And he can’t get a word out, can barely fucking breathe before his lips are covered, before he’s being kissed so fucking desperate and giddy and all these feelings being fed straight into him, his heart leaping up in his throat to steal a taste but it doesn’t need to, it doesn’t need to because he feels…he feels it all everywhere, and he looks up and he shakes, he laughs, he’s gonna fucking cry—

“You woke up,” Eddie whispers, marvels, thinks his whole face is going to split open with, with joy and Steve, Steve is here, and he’s smiling back, and he’s breathing and they’re, it’s—

There’s light here. Steve’s eyes are like molten copper, they flicker, they shine.

“Promised,” Steve murmurs close, his lips moving Eddie’s lips with each syllable and the taste is, is…sweet and soft and light and perfect and Eddie almost doesn’t ask because it feels so right, so unquestionable but also he wants, something fierce and unwavering, and he needs to be sure where the water’s real, and the ripples mean something when you shift the whole fucking world, when you feel this big you know it’ll move the earth breathe your feet, so he has to ask:

“That the only reason?”

He still feels the hope from wherever they were, though; he feels it still, here, and he believes in it more in the light, he thinks, and he looks at Steve, takes him in, sees his chest rising and his pulse at the neck: real. Real, and so beautiful, and so, so—

Steve leans and kisses him hard, almost painful but it’s divine, Eddie will bask in the sting of it for the rest of his fucking life if he’s allowed, and then—

Then Steve pulls back and pins him with his eyes, now, fierce and on fire and they steal Eddie’s breath with feeling, with intent as Steve grabs at his shoulders, pulls them flush together and growls against his ear, like a vow almost:

“Only reason?” Steve huffs, shakes his head. “Not even close,” and he drags his lips over Eddie’s skin, catches Eddie’s hair, weaves into Eddie’s heartbeat:

not-dead, not-dead, not-dead

in-love, in-love, in-love—

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson @estrellami-1 @bookworm0690 

♥️

divider credit here

[kk43mi]

Tbh?? even though i find it kinda interesting i havent ready many fics w/ tickling kink in them but like.. a couple of them just feel like regular porn but the difference is (for example) getting someone off w/ a feather instead of Just stroking the 🍆. In others ive read, the tickling is just foreplay, like doing it playfully and then realizing that the other person is aroused by all the touching (this one is what i like the most especially with grumpy characters wr barely see smiling. They deserve to giggle)

divider: saradika-graphics

cw: feather play, cum, weener, no proofreading, wc: 500+

"[name] i swear..to archons..!" you tickled the man in front of you, teasing his cock with a toy feather. handcuffed to the bedframe first thing when he woke up. you always loved the thought of teasing your boyfriend by a feather, it just seemed so hot to see your boyfriend struggle under you.

"what! its fun...~" you take the feather, wiggling it back and forth around the tip. looking up at him when his thighs quiver and the way he whimpered was so yummy. its like you wanted more out of him. "your way of fun isnt what i like." he exclaimed before popping your mouth onto his tip.

"agh fuck! you better stop with that shit-" you giggled, using the feather to tease him more, this is was much fun, you loved seeing him forced into submission. seeing the way pearls of sweat dripped down from his forehead and the way his abs emitted a shine from all of it...you couldnt stop yourself. "if you say it, ill let you cum~ if not, im adding another ten minutes."

"im not saying shit for your ass." "cmonnn you dont wanna be pent up with no release right? plus...youre handcuffed you couldnt even help yourself." you had a point, and he grit his teeth, all his ego would be lost begging for you to let him cum. tickling him on the base and you can see precum dripping from the side as his cock twitches, it was such a sight to see.

he huffs and breathes in heavily, just hoping he could get a release from the stroke of the feather. but you knew too well, knew how to control his own climax. hes seriously so pent up and needed a release. should he for his own pleasure....

"please.." he mumbled. "hm? whaddya say?" you stopped teasing him. he says something inaudible and you probably know what he said. "cmon say it louder, tell me what you want" "this shit is embarrassing." the way red coated his cheeks made you display a cheeky smile, you loved seeing him this way.

"say it and you get what you want." you stroke a lick against the veins of his base. he twitches and couldnt take it anymore. "please, let me cum, i beg of you." his hands tried getting out of the resistances, absolutely losing his mind from the lack of release.

"hehe, knew you could do it" and without any warning, you his whole cock entered inside your mouth and the moan he let out was heavenly. "ooh-! fuck [name]! your mouth feels fucking great" he let out. the way you slobbered your spit everywhere, bobbing your head up and down.

you eyes fluttered up at him and he couldnt get any hornier from this. he release was coming and you could tell from the way he bucked his hips up at you which made you gag. the slurp sounds and his whimpers were echoed around the room.

"keep going-im cumming-agh fuck!" you felt hot gooey substances shot inside of your throat, from the amount of times you edged him, there was no surprise how much came from him. you tried swallowing all of it, but the way it spilled was so much some came from the corners of your mouth. his breathing was uncontrollable, probably the best orgasm he had in a long time.

after swallowing everything up, you kissed his cheek. "still as yummy as i remembered, you came so much."

scaramouche, diluc, alhaitham, abyss aether, kinichi, kaeya, cyno, tighnari, wriothesley, xiao any character of your choice!

sorry for the long hiatus, been really busy and lost the motivation. just wrote this real quick.

[overnowsfcb]

DUST.

summary. sometimes love can't solve everything in this world.

pairing. pablo gavi x fem!reader

warnings. angst, cheating, brief mention of sexual content so mdni.

word count. 1,383

author's note. hiii!!! everyone i came back. this was requested but i accidentally deleted it, so i don't know if it's completely what you wanted, sorry :(

He was acting strange. Pablo was one of those people who hated to fail, whether it was himself, his beloved team, his family, and within all that twisted and distorted pyramid in search of perfection, there you were, at the top of the pyramid with a golden crown and a throne decorated with your favorite flowers.

The love of his life. The person he dreamed of marrying and, well, what an average person might dream of being with such an angelic and magnetic woman like you. Having children, pets, a very large house with a yard and blah, blah, blah. The typical 'and they lived happily ever after'.

Although fairy tales are just that, right? Fables created for children, where everything is possible, and dreaming costs just the snap of your fingers or closing your eyes and letting yourself go.

But when adulthood hits you hard, and you enter the cruel and wicked world where stories are ripped from your skin and that special shell you had for dreaming, almost like taking the shell off a turtle, you end up defenseless. Looking at the world painted with a layer of grey staining every single thing.

And you knew that Pablo was not an average person and never would be in his life, thanks to his career and the scrutiny on him, which led him to make quick and sometimes very wrong decisions.

The pressure from the media, and his inner circle, and meeting each of the expectations placed upon him was too difficult.

Not to mention the moment he suffered his injury. God, you prayed and cried by his side, embracing him and assuring him that everything would be okay, that he would be better thanks to his resilience and passion.

But it wasn't enough to fill that immense void that consumed him and deteriorated his organs like a parasite as he watched his teammates and friends on the field while he, with the little luck he had run with, had to sit and watch from the stands.

He needed something at that time, something he believed would solve his problems. Just once, he told himself, and y/n doesn't even have to find out.

He had been very cautious about it, arranging the time and place with one of the many models filling his Instagram messages (something he always deleted because he was never interested in anyone but you), and he met with her in a luxurious and reserved hotel.

A blonde girl, green eyes. Tight red dress and plump lips. Just out of a magazine.

But when he came in a condom and not in your sweet, angelic little pussy, his beloved pussy, he felt all that adrenaline drop like a brick. What the hell are you doing, Pablo?

She didn't even compare to you, damn it, her moans didn't even sound like music to his ears, her body didn't feel right against his. But it was already too late for regrets.

It was too late to look into your eyes and not feel like he had failed you in the worst possible way, the person he loved the most.

That the mistake made was by his own hand, planned and contemplated beforehand. It almost sounds like a murder, Your Honor, I plead guilty, but that's how you felt when you began to notice the distance he was putting between the two of you.

How the comfortable silences turned uncomfortable, making your stomach twist forcefully, inducing nausea as you overthought about your recent encounters. Where did I go wrong to reach this point?

Your justification was that perhaps he was going through a complicated emotional period and didn't want to bother you. Yeah, it must be that.

“Baby.” You called him with the typical nickname, not changing your sweet tone of voice or your smile. “Hey, you're kinda lost.” You said, releasing a small awkward laugh, placing your hand on his knee and stroking it with your thumb, a silent prayer. C'mon, baby, come back to me.

“Hm?” He responded with his eyebrows slightly raised as he turned his gaze towards where you were sitting beside him on the couch, with your cat in your lap. “Sorry, didn't catch you.”

“Oh,” You stroke the fluffy fur of your cat, trying to keep your voice from faltering. “It doesn't matter.” You said after a few seconds of pondering whether to keep paddling against the tide. Was it really worth spending your energy?

“Tell me, y/n, I said sorry.” His voice sounded impatient and frustrated, another stab to your heart.

“Sorry doesn't fix the way you've been treating me lately, Pablo.” You finally decide to address the elephant in the room, staring at him intently dropping the bomb between both of you.

Your cat meowed, sensing the change in the atmosphere.

He got up from the couch, starting to pace around, you had simply caught him off guard.

“Please, tell me if I did something wrong and I didn't notice.” You pleaded, your cat meowed again, this time getting off your lap onto the floor. You felt your chest tightening again, you didn't even have the warmth of your furball anymore, you felt like you were about to drown.

"No," he suddenly said, kneeling in front of you and wrapping your hands around his. "I… I failed you, y/n."

Please, Lord, tell me it isn't what I'm thinking right now. It echoed in your head, your eyelids shut tightly, trying to wake up from such a nightmare, digging your nails into his palms.

"I'm so sorry, mi amor. It was... It meant nothing to me." He tried to excuse himself, getting closer to you. He couldn't keep his eyes off your face, he needed to look at you to know you wouldn't slip away from him. "Say something, please…”

“I— I don't even know what to say,” you stutter, trying to process what had just been said as your eyes brimmed with tears you sought to contain. You withdrew your trembling, sweat-soaked hands from theirs, ironically, when all that remained of the two of you were ashes of your hearts. “I thought we didn't keep secrets.”

“I know, babe. Please… I want you to trust me that you're my whole life, the one I love, I can't be without you,” he begged, gripping the side of your thighs lightly. You looked into his eyes, seeking honesty, and genuinely, you managed to find it.

But that didn't alleviate all your doubts that were pounding your mind like a hammer.

“Then why did you do it?” The million-dollar question, you waited for his answer allowing him to continue touching you, because although it might not be the right thing to do, deep down in your heart you believed you could forgive him if you heard the answer you wanted to hear.

“It has a stupid reason behind it, I wanted something new, adrenaline. I thought that would make me feel… some thrill. But all I felt after I did it was… shame.” He explained.

“Look at me, Pablo.” You cupped his cheeks, making him look into your eyes, trying to find that sparkle. “Promise me you didn’t feel nothing, promise me you didn’t even think about doing it again.”

He nodded, resting his hands on yours. “I promise, my love.” His voice trembled, you saw how his eyes were filled up with tears he tried to contain. “I just want you.”

You look away and nod. “I believe you...” You didn't wanna look at him when saying your next words, knowing you'll shatter his heart. But he shattered yours first, right? We're even, I guess. “But I need time.”

“I… I understand.” He said, the room spinning around you both.

“I'll call you when I feel better, okay?” You gave him a tight-lipped smile, caressing the back of his hand, memorizing his soft skin as you watched him nod.

He grabbed your hands again and pushed them against his lips, pressing them with his eyes closed. “I love you, princess.” He stood up and you looked up at him from the couch. "Don't ever forget that."

A part of you wanted to hug him and tell him to stay. But you knew you needed to heal to forgive such a thing, so you just nodded. “Take care.” You whispered.

He disappeared from your sight, you closed your eyes and leaned against the couch. The sound of the door closing made the tears go down your cheeks, leaving patterns of your shattered heart evident on your face.

Guess the fairytale came to dust, and the butterflies died with a blow of wind.

[woncherie]

hello <33 finally posting part 3. i hope you guys like it!! small reminder that im not a native english speaker i hope i didnt do too many mistakes..

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: afab!reader, no pronouns used, bully!scara, bullying, sub!scara, reader makes him a sub lol, nsfw, mentions of alcohol and drugs, finger sucking, spit play, thigh riding, degradation, blackmail, rimming, pegging, pictures are taken, usage of ma'am a few times, he sucks our dick!! light spanking (please tell me if I missed something)

wc: 4.9k

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

lab reports were handed in in time, protocols werent your problem anymore and you got good grades on papers that you didnt even take a look at. things really changed after the party a few months ago.

you didnt get thrown at with food anymore, no one was there to trip you, your property wasnt destroyed anymore. its as if he completely forgot about your existence. at this point you dont even know if he remembers your face anymore, you havent seen your favourite bully in weeks other than on hallways, but even there he was very quick to choose another path to not see your face.

its been a month since the incidence in the library, and nothing else happened between you. how could anything have happened? he doesnt even look at you anymore.

at first you enjoyed your peace. people started talking to you more, you went to more partys and hangouts and met new people, but after two weeks of silence from scaramouche, you started getting a bit tense too.

you didnt expect him to actually leave you alone. you thought he would be putting up more of a fight than just puss out like a small kid, and no matter how hard it was to admit.. you kinda missed him.

at one point you got so annoyed with his behaviour that you even tried to meet him yourself, bumping into him in the hallway to start a conversation, but all he did was apologize half-assed and then go back on his way, not even taking a glimpse of your face or outfit (which he used to love to make fun of).

you were fed up with him. you cannot believe that after everything that happened between the two of you he can just act like nothing happened, going on with his life without even thinking about you. him ignoring you made you even more mad than when he gave you too much attention.

it was hard to admit, but the indigo haired man never left your thoughts. it wasnt like you two actively talked before, but now all you did was wonder. about him, about how his day was, what he did, how he is feeling.

the irritation was written all over your face, and all that albedo could do was watch from the sidelines. you still didnt tell him what happened, at this point you were so far into this shit you dont even know how to explain anything.

"is everything alright?" he said after a few days, laying on his tummy on the floor of your apartment, your organic chemistry book in front of him, but instead of studying he just put his head on it, using it as a pillow.

"what should be wrong?" you mumbled, scrolling through instagram right next to him on your carpet. your head was at his feet and his at yours, taking a look over to him when he spoke up.

you two ordered some take out and waited impatiently on the delivery before going back to studying. exams were getting closer again.

"you seem to be lost in thoughts the past few three weeks. is everything right between scaramouche and you?" he asked while checking the time on his watch.

"yeah, what should be wr- wait what." your heart dropped for a second and you threw your phone away, sitting up straight. "how did you-" you started.

"oh c'mon." he answered and rolled his eyes. "respect my intelligence. it doesnt take a genius to understand that at least something happened between the two of you."

you looked at him with wide eyes, shame and guilt being written all over your face. "how..??"

"just look at you two and how you act around each other. you two are practically undressing each other with your eyes during the lectures."

you hid your face in the palm of your hands, embarrassed at the whole situation. "i am so so sorry. i shouldve told you." you apologized. "i was just.. scared about your reaction?"

"you should be." he returned, sitting up slowly before looking at you. "i have a lot of things to say about that special relationship. but maybe you should explain what happened before." he gave you the opportunity to explain.

you threw yourself at albedo and hugged him tightly. "oh my god, i need to tell you so much that happened. ok so remember ittos party.."

☆

scaramouche was currently laying in bed, another random women naked next to him. he tried everything, he tried everything, to forget you.

your ugly face followed him in his darkest dreams, your annoying character was running around in his head all the time, and he even caught himself daydreaming about the two of you every once in a while. all the time.

but absolutely nothing was helping him. he thought maybe he just needed to get laid again, to have any random chick pleasure him for the night and he would get back to be his old self, that he was just thinking with his dick the past few weeks, but no. even after sleeping with multiple women who werent even good to begin with, he couldnt get you out of his head.

he was frustrated, so fucking annoyed, that he let it out on everyone who is somewhat close to him. his friends were trying to figure out what or who made him so miserable, but he doesnt talk to anyone of them.

instead of approaching you and talking it out he decided it would be the better idea to just party, smoke and drink his feelings away. after a few days he would forget you and what happened. but thats what he told himself for weeks now.

the women next to him came closer, trying to touch his chest, but he just hissed at her. "do me a favour and fuck off." he didnt even know her name. he didnt care enough to ask. he couldnt even describe what she looked like.

"h..huh?" he heard her gasp next to him, feeling a bit betrayed by his behaviour right now. "did i do someth-"

"fuck off i said." he groaned, using his arm to place it over his eyes. he just hoped that she would leave as quickly as she came, letting him pity himself in peace without anyone chewing his ear off or them expecting that he cares about them.

he didnt care about anyone of them, fuck, he doesnt even know their names, the only name in his head was yours. and he was sick of it.

the girl stood up and grabbed her clothes, leaving the room as she put them on again, and scaramouche let out a deep groan when he heard the front door closing. fucking finally.

he turned around in his bed, laying on his stomach and checking his phone. he was hoping that maybe you would text him again, but you didnt.

he took his pillow and threw it over his head, trying to burry himself in his bed, trying to burry these feelings.

what were you doing right now? were you together with your ugly blonde friend again?

just thinking about albedo makes him wanna throw a few punches around the room. he never cared about that nerd anyway, his victim always being you, but right now? he's exploding just thinking that you spend your precious time with albedo than rather messaging him, or talking to him.

what did you even see in him? he's fucking boring, head constantly hiding between a few books. he probably doesnt even have a personality to begin with.

were you sleeping with him?

after all the things you did to scaramouche, he wouldnt be doubting that you maybe also fucked around with your best friend. the thought of it made him jump out of his bed, throwing his pillow against a wall before heading to the shower.

he was so lovesick, he couldnt even admit how jealous he was. fuck, he misses you. he misses you so much that he set his mind to visit you after showering, even though he tried his best to ignore you. he couldnt do that anymore.

☆

you were laying on your bed, your books and tablet scattered around you. you tried to concentrate on your studies, on how you felt before you started to fuck around with scaramouche, but you only sighed frustratedly. albedo was right. this was all a big mistake.

albedo left some hours ago, giving you some space for yourself to think about the whole situation, but you instead chose to study and ignore the aching pain in your chest.

albedo gave you a whole lecture on how stupid you were, on how you're gonna get your feelings hurt and mind destroyed by scaramouche, and you knew he was right, you really did, but you couldnt help but feel the way you feel right now.

your train of thoughts got interrupted as someone started banging against your door furiously, and you stood up in surprise and hurried to the door, not checking who it was before opening it.

in front of you stood your favourite indigo eyed man, hair messy and very obviously annoyed and irritated. he didnt even ask or say anything, just pushed you away to enter your apartment.

you were surprised to see him here, after ignoring you for weeks and getting out of your way on purpose when it always used to be the other way around.

"i fucking hate you!" he shouted in your face, pacing around in your apartment, trying to find any words.

"chill out for a second, handsome, how did you find my address?" you asked him, closing the door behind him after scaramouche entered your comfy 25 m².

he just rolled his eyes and put his hands on his hips. "ask me something more difficult next time." he quoted his old text messages.

"the fuck you want here anyway?" you answered him annoyed but also somewhat adrenalized. this is the first time you talked again after like 2 weeks? 3 weeks? you couldnt even remember yourself.

"you! i fucking hate you." he yelled again, coming closer to you before using his arms to push you around a bit, getting physical with you. you stumbled a few steps back but caught yourself in time before landing on your ass.

"you just show up in my life and turn everything around without even thinking about me!" he cried out, his own hands finding its way in his hands and pulling on his own hair. "the past few weeks i tried everything to forget you, to forget the way you make me feel, but.. i just cant."

you raised your eyebrows in shock, not expecting a confession like this when he first entered your home furiously. "what do you mean?"

"FUCK. i mean that i cant stop thinking about you. i cant stop thinking about how you touch me. you ruined me for everyone else. no one compares to how you make me feel, and i hate you so much for this." he paced around your small room again, his eyes moving around from you to the floor and to you again, arms moving around everywhere.

he was stressed as hell, and he didnt know why he was here, in front of you, digging his own grave, but there he is, embarrassing himself to his bones.

and all you did was stand in front of him, looking at him with wide eyes, mouth opening and closing like a fish, trying to find fitting words. you couldnt explain how you were feeling right now, you just knew that you were incredibly happy and relieved.

"say something." scaramouche nearly begged, being frustrated with the whole situation.

he wanted things to go back to normal, to have you under him, doing anything he says without being told twice, to do all uni work and still humiliate you for funsies.

but thinking about going back to that time also hurt him, thinking about how you wouldnt talk to him more than you needed to is something he didnt want.

you slowly stepped up to him again, definitely getting closer to him and his personal space than anyone else dares to do, and you use your finger to lift his chin up, looking at him mockingly.

"now was that so hard to say?" you looked down in him. his face turned red again, trying to ignore your wandering eyes on his face, looking on the floor, eyelashes already a bit wet from shame and embarrassment.

"look at me when im talking to you." you demanded, squishing his cheeks between your fingers again and he looked up to you, breath stammering and gulping.

"is this what you want?" you raised one eyebrow mockingly, the grin on your face getting bigger and bigger.

scaramouche became frustrated with your behaviour again, too embarrassed to admit that yes, he needed this.

instead of answering, he pushed you back again, but followed you, shoving you on your own bed.

your back was pressed to the mattress and scaramouche sat down in your lap, leaning forwards before he pressed his lips on yours aggressively.

you were surprised at how eager he was, but no way would you let him lead and dominate you. this is your job.

you threw off all the books and your tablet from the bed with your arm in one swift motion, and then grabbing scaramouches waist as you change position, rolling on top of him while he is laying underneath you.

he didnt let go of the kiss, of you, his arms wrapped around your neck while your hands press down on the mattress beside each side of his head.

he let out some soft sighs and pants throughout the kiss, occasionally letting out a gasp or muffled moan.

you took the opportunity of you being on top, pressing your ass on his dick and making him moan more often now.

his hands wandered from your neck into your hair, pulling on them desperately as you suck on his tongue. god damn it, he felt fucking amazing.

you started undressing him slowly, breaking the kiss to remove his shirt, your lips on his right afterwards again before he could even take in a breath.

you didnt care though. you waited so long for him, you want to break him apart now.

you started kissing from his lips down to his jaw and neck, giving him bites and hickies all over that area. "you've been waiting for this for quite some time now, havent you?" you teased him, rocking your hips on his as you gave his collarbone special attention.

"fuck.. fuck yes." he groaned out, trying to grab your hips but you grabbed his hands immediately, pressing them down above his head.

"dont even think about this." you threaten him, and he looks at you with wide eyes. "i will not be touching you if you dont listen to me. understood?" scaramouches eyes widen in surprise, ready to whine out. he cant have you leaving him hanging once again, he needs you more than anyone else right now, so all he did was nod and look into your eyes.

"use your words." you demanded.

"y..yes."

"is that all?" you asked in a harsh tone, making him feel so much smaller than he actually is underneath you. his face got a soft pink blush around his nose and he looked away, everywhere else but in your face right now. "yes.. m..ma'am."

you could feel your pussy clench at the way he looked so embarrassed as he called you this name. you lived for embarrassing him.

"good boy." you answered and you could feel his dick twitch right through the shorts you were wearing.

you started kissing his body again, this time taking your time at his chest as you felt it heaving so cutely for you. "id love to fuck these tits." you grinned, looking up to him and seeing him hide his face inside the crook of his arm. "maybe next time."

his heart stopped beating for a second before it sped up in pace right afterwards. next time?

but before he could ask anything, you stood up from his lap, grabbing his waist once again before turning him around and pulling his pants down in one swift motion.

"H..HUH?" he asked surprised, looking back to you and seeing you eyeing his ass again. just thinking about what happened last time made his dick throb in his underwear, already being stained by precum anyway.

you were very happy with how things were right now, scaramouche underneath you and submissive, letting you use his body to your liking.

"ever got your ass pegged?" you looked up to him with a big grin, visibly ecstatic before pulling his boxers down too and touching his butt.

"n..no why the fuck should-?" but before he could finish his sentence you sinked your sharp teeth into his ass, biting him until there was evidence of your teeth on his butt.

he let out a small scream and let his head fall back into his neck, eyes closed in pleasure and pain. "i fucking hate you." he then said and you only giggled silently.

you stood up from his legs, grabbing into your nightstand to pull out your pretty pink dildo and scaramouches eyes widened in shock and lust, jumping up immediately.

"aint no way this gonna fit.." he mumbles.

"dont worry. ill make it fit." you returned, grabbing his hair and pulling him closer to your face again, pressing your lips on his harshly.

he opened his mouth instantly, welcoming your tongue in his mouth. fuck, he really cant resist your touch.

he leaned into the kiss and let out a small moan when your fingers graced his dick, playing with the tip and using his precum to make him wetter.

you let go off his lips and his dick and he let out a whine. he waited so long for this, dont stop now.

but instead of kissing him again, you leaned a bit back and pressed he colorful dildo on his lips, and he looked at you, slightly confused.

"what are you-?" he started, but you already pushed the tip of the sex toy into his mouth.

"sadly i didnt prepare any lube.. guess your spit has to make it wet now."

seeing scaramouche choke on the dildo made your heart swell in pride and joy, he really looked majestic like that. he grabbed your hand quickly, scared that you might shove it down his throat completely.

his heart was beating faster, scared of messing up. it was the first time of him sucking on a cock, he didnt want to look like a fool, he didnt want to disappoint you.

he tried to relax his throat to take the toy more in, sucking on it and looking at you through his lashes. inch for inch he took more in, putting on a small show for you.

you couldnt help but gasp a bit, pussy wet and aching for him. but you had to hold back, this was about him and his pleasure now.

"see, so you can be a good boy for me without throwing a tantrum. no need to be so bratty all the time.~" you teased him and he tried to look at you angrily, the toy in his mouth ruining it a bit for him.

you were still in your clothes which bothered both you and him, so you let go of the dildo in your hand, but scaramouche held it firmly anyway.

you quickly got rid of your shirt and shorts, sitting in front of him in your underwear while he was completely naked. when scaramouche saw your body in front of him, so close, he let go of the sex toy in his mouth and instead stared at you, biting his lip, trying to hide the faint blush on his face. he thought that you looked stunning.

you took the dildo out of his hand and kissed him again, pressing him onto his back while he leaned into the kiss, hands grabbing into your hair.

while kissing him you grabbed into your nightstand again, this time pulling out a bottle of lube.

scaramouche opened his eyes at the noise and let go of you when he saw the bottle. "wait what?? didnt you say you dont have any?" he bickered around and you laughed silently. "of course i have lube. i just wanted to see you suck on my dick." you teased him once again.

"you fucking bitch." he returned, visibly angry and embarrassed again, hiding half his face with his hand.

"oh c'mon, you looked really stunning. the show you put on made me nearly loose my control." you said as you kissed his jaw and neck downwards to his chest and tummy, getting dangerously close to his dick, which was still standing and throbbing regularly.

"cute. how can you satisfy anyone with this small cute dick?" you bullied him and he turned his face away in shame. "fuck off." was all he said, ready to shove his foot up your face but you only giggled and pressed a kiss on the inside of his tender thigh.

you heard him let out a small whimper, back finally relaxing against your pillows as he closed his eyes. you just smiled against his thigh and pressed down a few more kisses on them before taking the bottle of lube, opening it and using it on your fingers.

you grabbed the insides of scaramouches knees and pressed them up to his hands, signaling him to hold them.

it was embarrassing for him, but he didnt care anymore. he just wanted you on top of him, destroying him completely, so he held his legs and spread them, being completely naked and open for you. "good boy.." you mumbled as your fingers started rubbing on his anus, making him shudder at the cold feeling.

"we need a safeword." you said, looking up to his face and he opened his eyes in frustration. he thought you would finally fuck him properly.

"safeword?"

"yeah.. in case you dont like it anymore." you explained it.

"i know what a safeword is you dumb fuck." he said angrily, and you gave him a slap on his dick, making him moan out in pain and pleasure, arching his back and shoving his butt closer to you.

"dont get too comfy now." you said, and he looked at you apologetically.

"fuck just choose anything! i dont care."

you took his dick into your hand, stroking him a few times and watching him mewl in pleasure.

"coconut?" you asked.

"y..yeah yeah whatever" he said, enjoying the pleasure that you were giving him right now.

you took your lube smeared fingers and slowly inserted one inside of him while watching his face and facial features.

his eyelids fluttered and he bit his lip, grabbing the bedsheets as he tried to get used to the unknown feeling. you didnt move your finger yet, waiting for his consent.

he slowly opened his eyes and gave you a nod, signaling you to move your finger, so you did. you kissed him on the lips again, trying to make him ignore the initial pain in his butt.

he wrapped his arms around your body again, kissing you a bit sloppily as he moans into the kiss, moving back onto your fingers.

after a few minutes you heard him mumble against your lips. "m..more" he said before pressing his lips on yours again. you took the invitation to slowly insert a second finger into him and you felt him flinch and whimper against your lips. you let go off the kiss too look at him, but he pulled you back down again, not wanting to let go of the kiss.

you moved your fingers and he whimpered against your lips, biting down on your underlip. man, you really wanted to ravish him, but you had to hold yourself back a little more, for him.

you started scissoring your fingers and scaramouche started enjoying it a bit more, all kinds of moans and groans leaving his mouth. "f..fuck this feels so.." he started, but got lost in pleasure, losing his train of thought once again.

after a few more seconds you pulled out of him, making him shudder underneath you, opening his eyes slightly to look at you. "just do it now." he started bothering you again and you gave him a slap on his thigh. "shut up."

you grabbed underneath the bed and pulled out your strap on, making his face heat up slightly, but you only smiled at his reaction and put it on.

you’d never ever felt this way around anyone before - you could feel your panties growing more soaked by the second from anticipation. but it really wasnt about you right now, it was about him.

scaramouche really didnt expect to be fucked senseless when he made his way over to your home, and yet, his mouth was dry and his face was hot with embarrassment? fear? neediness? he didnt know. all he knew was that he wanted this feeling gone and your body on top of him.

scaramouche sighed happily when he felt the toy slowly, very slowly gliding into him, head falling back as he winced at the initial pain. you paused for a moment, letting him get used to the feeling.

after a few seconds he nodded again, signaling you to push in deeper. he groaned as you pushed in further, the size of you causing a burning sensation, even despite the lube and preparation earlier.

you pressed light kisses around his forehead, cheeks, jaw, neck, trying to calm him down.

he breathed heavily as you pushed in more, more, more, filling him up deliciously before bottoming out inside of him. scaramouche felt like his whole skin was burning hot, tears pricking in his eyes as he grabbed your arms, pulling you down to him and pressing your body on his as he wrapped his arms around your body.

you pushed your hips back towards his, rolling your hips in a slow pace as his body twitched underneath you.

"fu.. fuck i hate you so much." he reminded you again and you laughed in a low tone, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face. "want me to stop?" you asked and he locked his legs behind your back, taking up your space to move away.

"no!!" he gasped as you continued to pound into him, head thrown back into the pillows as moans, grunts, your name and even a few ma'ams leave his lips continuously. a very visible bulge appearing on his stomach made him gasp out, tears leaving his eyes and smearing all over his face. "dont stop, fuck, please dont stop.." he moaned out loudly.

"i should stop." you continued to tease him. "after all these months of you destroying my life, it really should be fair if i leave you hanging." you grabbed the inside of his knees, pressing them to his chest and putting him into a mating press. "you deserve this."

scaramouches mouth was left open, tongue hanging out and drool leaving his mouth. he was completely gone, trying his hardest to concentrate on what to say. "s..so-sorry. im so sorry fuck im sorry" he slurred out, trying his hardest to not come too quickly.

"is this how your mother taught you to apologize?" you grunted, slapping his thigh and ass hard, making him mewl out.

"fuuck I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have- I shouldn't have put through you all tha-fuckk." he moaned out, looking down to where your and his body connected.

"I will stop I will stop I promise I won't bother you anymore just please..make me cum." hearing him choke on his own words made your chest fill with pride. you finally broke him.

his hands tried to hold anything of you, grabbing your bra that you still wore and opening it, throwing it away, his eyes all over your chest now, watching the way they bounce while you fuck him hard.

he was fucked out and you barely even started, using his body as a mere fleshlight for your toy, teeth gritting as he felt a familiar sensation build up in his stomach as the toy continuously pushed against his prostate, making him see stars through the tears in his eyes.

"cu- cumming. fuck im so closesoclosesoclose" he slurred out, completely drunk on pleasure.

"eyes on me." you demanded, and he looked up from your chest to your eyes. "want you to look at me as you come." you continued, and scaramouches heart skipped a beat. fuck. you really wrapped him around your finger.

you took your hand and grabbed his penis, playing and stroking him a bit to increase the pleasure, sending him off the edge as he came all over his body and your hand. you took a few seconds to fuck him through his orgasm before slowly standing still, only both of your heavy breathings heard in the apartment.

you smeared the cum that was left on your hand on his chest and stomach, painting him full with it as you teased him again, his body still shaking and spasming underneath you.

"fuck, i could do this all day." you said and he bit his lips at the thought of that.

"not gonna take any pictures this time?" he asked and you grabbed the polaroid camera on your nightstand.

"oh you bet i will."

☆☆☆

HELLOO <33 this is gonna be the last part i dont think i have much to add to the story anymore.. i hope you all enjoyed it and thank you so much for hyping me up the past 2 weeks <3 it really meant a lot, you guys made my days and nights.

[pedroshotwifey]

Christmas Countdown Day 6 - Javi P.

Take It

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Word count: 908

Tags/Warnings: No use of y/n, (could be seen as) dub/noncon, rough piv sex, like really fucking rough, overstimulation (f), daddy/papi kink, aftercare implied but up for interpretation, stuff im forgetting, pussy slapping, kinda dead dove, when I say they nasty I mean they nasty

Summary: The one where Javi fucks your lights out

A/N:⚠PLEASE READ⚠ Alright, y'all. This one can be interpreted a few different ways. It obviously jumps right into the smut, so there is nothing to tell you what kind of relationship Javi has with the reader, or how they got into this situation. That being said, this can be seen as something that Javi and the reader talked out beforehand (maybe they have a safeword), or it could be seen as dub/noncon. The choice is yours as there is nothing in this fic to hint that either of those are what's happening. Thank you for reading <3

***

“Javi, please!” 

You sob as he rocks into your sensitive and overused cunt. Through the tears in your eyes, you glance at the digital clock on the nightstand next to the bed. If the time is right, that means that Javi has had his dick buried in your pussy for about an hour now. 

You have no idea how he does it, how he can bring himself to the edge so many times only to repeatedly deny himself. How he forces you to stay still until he backs off the edge and is able to keep going. How he, somehow, manages to get you to fall apart over and over again while he does so. 

You lost count of your orgasms after four; at that point, they had started to mesh. Everything had, really. 

“Shhh,” Javi says, continuing to pound into you. “You can take it, hermosa.”

He has you face down, ass in the air. One of his hands is wrapped in your hair, and the other on your waist, both working to pull you back to him to meet his thrusts. Your hands are just as useless as your arms at this point, scrambling to find something to hold onto without success. 

Your cries and pleas are accompanied by Javi’s grunts and heavy breathing, which mixes together with a wet slapping sound that echoes around the bedroom. The atmosphere is humid and thick with the smell of sex, making your mind even more hazy.

Your body is acting on its own at this point, completely detached from your brain. You faintly register a coil tightening in your abdomen, pulling tighter and tighter until it snaps.

You cry out as your orgasm wracks your entire body, your cunt convulsing around Javi’s still-hard dick. He grits his teeth and shoves himself even harder into you, slamming into your cervix and making you jolt forward.

He stills but holds you close, his cock nestled deep inside you as you ride out your orgasm and he regains composure. He loosens his grip on your hair slightly as he leans in and showers you with praise.

Good girl, that’s good.

There you go, come all over my cock.

So perfect, bebita, take me so good, make Papi feel so good.

Once you deflate against the mattress, he resumes his movements, slowly picking up his pace again until he’s pummeling into you and tears are streaming down your ruddy cheeks. 

Your skin is tacky where it meets with Javier’s pelvis, the moisture there accentuating the steady slaps and making the contact sting more with every powerful thrust.

You barely register him telling you he’s almost finished, another something about you being good for him. If not for the constant reassurance, you wouldn’t believe that you could keep this up.

“…one more for me..” he’s saying in a far away place. One more. Just one more.

You’re too preoccupied with that thought, repeating it over and over in your scrambled mind, to realize that he’s moved one of his hands. You scream when he makes contact with your clit, a sharp slap that lights nerves across your entire body. 

He slaps in quick succession, the resulting sting making your hips buck backward as you try to get away from it. Each time you do so, you impale yourself further on Javi’s dick, and he moans loudly, whereas it causes you a light pain, it spurs him on.

Every nerve feels like it's on fire and you swear you’re going to black out by the black that swirls into your vision. You hear yourself begging, pleading for him to be done, and then a strangled cry as you come around him again. 

You’re completely fucked out, your body limp and your ears ringing. Your eyelids drop closed and you have no control of what comes out of your mouth, which isn’t much but a few wet and whiny breaths. 

You think Javi is saying something again, but the harder you try to listen, the less you hear. Just a soft grumble coming somewhere from far away.

Half a dozen more thrusts, and suddenly Javi’s pace is messy and uneven. His grunts grow deeper and his breaths more aggressive. you feel yourself being lifted up onto your knees, Javi’s arms being wrapped around you, and his head resting on your shoulder as he groans. 

You frantically grasp at his forearms for purchase as he finally stills inside to let his cum paint your walls. His cock throbs and pulses inside of you, making you whimper with even the slightest movement. 

When he’s done and his cum is spilling down from around his cock and down your thighs, he waits a few minutes, just catching his breath, and then he pulls out. He does it slowly, but even so, your body immediately falls limply onto the mattress without his support. 

He tuts from behind you smooths your messy hair down, a gentle touch after using you so recklessly. You’ve stopped crying, your breaths evening out slightly. Every cell of your body is exhausted. Completely spent. When your eyelids drift closed again you don’t bother to stop them. 

“I’ll be right back, Hermosa,” Javi says as he gets up and pulls on his tight jeans. There’s a sudden smokeyness to the air that tells you he’s already lit a cigarette. He pets your head one more time before exiting the room, but by then you’re already asleep. 

***

I would appreciate some input on this one because I am actually working on a dark!Javi series right now. Don't feel like you have to, but if you enjoyed this dynamic, please let me know! Thank you for reading either way! <3

Biggest, fattest thank you to @mandoalorian for hosting this challenge!

Link to prompt list

No tag list just in case

[https-florals]

jj maybank is a munch and i will not be taking any arguments. 18+!!!

a/n: this is just a little blurby blurb!!! (the product of scrolling through the new touch tank trend on tiktok and being in desperate need of good head) my requests are still very much open please i will not write if i don’t have inspiration

he definitely has a little bit of a reputation in kildare for knowing how to eat it. when the two of you start dating, he can’t keep his hands off you. he’s constantly making jokes about you sitting on his face, or how sweet you’d taste. you’re a little scared, honestly. all your past boyfriends treated giving head like a chore. you’re more comfortable giving than recieving, but jj won’t let you go down on him. he’s adamant about the “ladies first” principle.

you finally decide to let him after a dinner date, you’re all dolled up in a pale yellow sundress and a light sunburn coloring your shoulders and nose bridge. jj always thinks you look like a goddess, but something about a fresh sunburn and the way your hair falls after it air-dries drives him insane. the whole ride home you’re talking about how you’re ready to just get home and relax, and being the gentleman he is, he’s fully prepared to beg to climb in the shower with you so he can wash your hair (his other favorite pastime).

jj limits himself to one joke as the two of you walk through the door, saying “really craving a little snack right about now, baby.” you think he’s gonna ask to run by the gas station, which puts a little dent in your plans, but he runs right with your little thought out scenario when he follows up with “you’re looking extra sweet tonight.”

he’s all smiles as he wraps his arm around your waist, wiggling his eyebrows in attempts to make you laugh. jj is a little concerned when you’re silent, pulling him into the bedroom and shutting the door without even giggling. you sit on the bed and begin to take your heels off, and the blonde boy just stands and watched you. he’s so very lost. a couple of minutes ago you were happy as a clam, all over him at the restaurant and in the car.

“come here,” you ask, so soft and timid.

“yeah, honey?” he swallows, cause the way you’re looking at him is giving him butterflies. your lips are a little parted, eyes wide as you look up at him. when he gets close to you, you tug on the bottom of his shirt. jj leans down so he’s eye-level with you, and then all it takes is a quick push to his shoulders, and you have him on his knees.

you’re blushing so hard, but you stand, albeit a little shakingly. you didn’t have a plan to stand up, in fact you’re pretty sure you’re gonna be on your back in a few seconds, but there’s something so nice about jj kneeling in front of you. your hand slides through his hair, tilting his head back with a slight pull to the hair at the nape of his neck. your other hand rests on his jawline. his hands come up to the back of your thighs, thumbs rubbing gentle circles. “i’m not wearing panties,” you kinda hiccup out. the phrase isn’t as sexy and seductive as you had hoped it be, because you’re nervous and tingly and giggly.

but you think it works, because jj’s eyes light up like you’ve just told him he won the lottery. his hands move to your ass and he buries his face right where your thighs begin to touch. you squirm a little, but he doesn’t let you move. you can feel his breath through the thin fabric of your dress, hit and heavy and inhaling like you’re a respirator or something.

“what are you doing!” you’re scared you smell funky, even though before dinner you took a very thorough everything shower.

he shushes you, and pulls back with a groan. “let me just take a sec,” he mumbles. “been praying for this.”

it takes maybe fifteen seconds for the two of you to be on the bed, jj on his back with you straddling his chest. your dress is off, and you’re totally bare over him. this is a whole new kind of vulnerability, all your insecurities on plain display. you’re thinking about your stomach, or how your tits sit naturally.

in turn, there’s not a thought going through jj’s head except for “girlfriend!!” he pulls you up a little closer, so he can lay a chaste little kiss on your skin. you flex your thighs so you’re hovering over him, but you’re already shaking when his tongue lightly skims over you, and you don’t know how you’re gonna hold yourself up.

he murmurs something you can’t quite hear, and then he’s yanking you down on his tongue.

“jj!”

“shit, darlin’, just sit down and hold still!”

“i’m gonna suffocate you!”

“i’ll tap out if i’m about to die.” he reaches his head up a bit to smile at you, all punch drunk like a kid in a candy shop. “but damn, that would be a way to go, huh?”

[shelbgrey]

Dating Lance Sweets Headcanons:

Paring: Lance Sweets x Hodgins!Reader

Summary: Headcanons about Lance dating Hodgins' little sister.

A/n: I'm on a roll with my Lance content, I love this man. Also there might be some nsfw content so be aware.

🩵MasterList 🩵Dating Lance mood board

I think you guys would be clueless to your feelings, like they're obviously there and everyone can see It expect you two.

You two became best friend first and guys spent so much time trying to get Booth and Bones together, you didn't relize the feeling you had for each other.

Booth noticed first, the leangering glances Lance would give you, how his eyes would light up everytime you entered to room. In Booth's words Lance was a love-sick puppy.

You were just the same, your brother Hodgins knows you like the back of his hand so he'd notice how you'll smile when you talk about Lance or how you just turn bright red in his presence.

You kinda just always had missed opportunities and your friends were getting sick of it, your the 'mom' of the group dispite you being one of the youngest, so your always trying to help everyone else find their happiness.

“why don't you just tell him how your feel?” Angela asked one day. You didn't know how to respond.

He confessed first... It was on the day he thought he was gonna lose you forever. The Gravedigger buried you in the car with Hodgins.

He didn't leave your side when you got taken to the hospital. “please don't leave me... I love everything about you even the things I don't like.. God I love you”

The rest was history... You guys ended up together quicker than Bones and Booth... Apparently there was a bet going around the Jeffersonian on which couples would end up together first, I'll tell ya Cam lost a butt load of money to Hodgins.

Anyway, he's the Sweetest boyfriend you'll ever find. Your the best thing that ever happened to him.

It won't take long for him to open up about his time in foster care and the abuse he endored. You'd hold him as a few stray tears would leave his eyes.

He would talk about the parents he did end up with in the end a lot. The older couple showed him what love was and he was greatful for it. He'd always say how much his adopted mother would love you. “she would have loved you”

This man need physical contact a lot. He's a big cuddler and just needs you in his arms, it's a comfort and a protection thing.

He's big on hand holding too, if your walking around the city your hands will be locked together, or sometimes hell just hold your had if your setting down at a table or something.

There's a lot of neck and forehead kisses being handed out by this man. He loves wrapping his arms around you from behind and just trail soft kisses down your neck.

He loves it when you kiss him on the cheek It's always innocent and loving, and a quick way to love on him even if you're in public or at work.

We can't gloss over the nose, It's super cute gester he loves doing. He thinks is adorable to watch your nose scrunch it up when he press his lips to it, but that just makes you cuter in his eyes.

And maybe he'll just nuzzle his nose to yours... I think it's Eskimo kisses or something, whatever it is it's a cute motion of love he loves doing.

He can be a rough kisser, but mostly he's a passionate kisser. He pours all his love and emotions into it, he makes sure your the only one on this earth he wants to love.

Sometimes if your not busy at the Jeffersonian he'll call you up so you can keep him company in his office, you'll just curl up in his lap while he dose paper work.

He loves it when you curl up on his lap and loves it when your fingers run through his hair or massage his scalp while he's working or your just cuddling.

He hangs out at your office in the Jeffersonian a lot too, sometimes he could be pest(you'll never tell him that nor will you tell him to go away) but you love the company and he's always there to help you with evidence.

Oh, since he's a Shrink is basically impossible for you to lie to him, but he's easy to talk to. I think that you talking to him as your boyfriend and not a psychiatrist helps a lot too.

“I know when your lying”

“because your and Shrink or because your my boyfriend?”

“both” he responded.

God, this man loves everything about you. You have a couple of tattoos, he wants to know about them. It doesn't matter what type of hair you have or if you like it or not, he loves it. He'll love your voice, body, personality... Everything.

He loves your eyes, He loves how innocent and beautiful they looked, they're so gentle to him.

When he talks about you, they just know he's in love. Booth tease him saying he has drool or heart eyes.

“Booth, did you know she has like five smiles?”

“is this a Shrink thing or 'I'm so in love' thing?” he'll ask but still want to know. He's happy Lance finally found someone.

“she has this one smile when she finds something funny and there's one when she's just talking about her friends.. There's this cute little smile she gets when I compliment her... It's my favorite, she's cute when she gets all shy”

He's very protective of you, he not a violent person in the slightest but if someone caused you harm he'll tear the world down.

He's so afraid of losing you, your the best thing that's ever happened to him and he doesn't want to screw it up. Of course he doesn't have to worry about that.

Your always resuring him that your always gonna be by his side. With that I think he's secretary insecure, he's never really had anyone drool over him like girls do Booth, so your always telling him how handsome he is.

“your so Handsome, have I ever told you that?”

He just the same way with you, always telling you your perfect or beautiful. Sometimes you feel a little bit out of his league, but there's no one he'd rather be with than you.

He leaves love notes every where for you to find, sometimes it will be on your mirror, sometimes in the book your reading at the time, no matter what your always finding his sweet messages.

You have a folder in your office with every single post-it, scratch paper, card, anything with a love note you kept.

It's the small things that matter most. He loves dancing with you to your favorite songs. It brings a softer side to your guys chaoic lives.

Your Song is 'Can't help falling in love' by Elvis Presley.

He teaches you how to play chess, you show interest in playing the game after watching him play dozens of them during a case involving a chess club. You would copy his stratagies, but you still couldn't really figure it out. He beat you everytime.

He finds it both frustrating and adorable that you have nicknames for the pieces. The most famous ones are 'little horseys' or 'the skinny castles'

Sometimes he'll let you win just so he can see you smile and do a little victory dance.

“how about we play checkers, I'm good at checkers” you said dumping the chess board.

You beat him at checkers everytime.

You love hearing him play piano, he'll learn your favorite songs and play them for you. You talked him into teaching you how to play, it's a great way for you to spend time together.

But if he's in the right mood he'll mess with you.

“I can't concentrate when you do that” you laughed. He was standing behind you while his hands moved around you. “doing what?” he said, kissing your neck.

He goes all out with dates rather if it's a night out or in. If it's a movie night he'll get all your favorite snacks and movies and make a comfy theater for you to cuddle in. If it's a night out he'll take you anywhere your heart desires.

A/n: this is just my headcanon for me and him: he'll remember the small things, like you mentioned you loved Elvis and have never be to Graceland. This man will keep the trip a secret, make sure you both have time off work and he'll suprise you. Hell, he might even propose to you there.

He has alot of nicknames for you, but the most common one is Baby or Honey.

Your nickname for him is Sweetie or Sweetheart, it goes with his last name and you refuse to call him Lancealot.

Speaking of Lancelot... The girl that calls him that causes a bit of commotions for you. Daisy had a huge crush on him(in this universe they never dated) and she's tied her hardest to be with him. Lance is faithful to you and told her fermly that he'd never betray you. She didn't let up for a while and even tried to use your inncecurites against you.

After Lance saw your tears and heard you question everything he quickly put a stop to everything.

He'll notice the little things, like how the only gummies you'll eat is gummy sharks. You don't like the worms because they remind you of snakes and the bears are too cute to eat.

Speaking of sharks and the ocean, Angela made you a vertical aquarium for the screen in your office after the case involving the lion fish.

Sometimes you and Lance will set infront of it relaxing while you watch the fish.

If your in bed he'll always have his arms around you. Rather your the little spoon or your on his chest. But sometimes if his day is rough he'd want to be the little spoon. His favorite feeling in the world is your arms around him and your fingers running through his hair.

You love his curls and you'll play with his hair any chance you get. It's a very comfterting feeling to him so he's neve apposed to it.

I don't think he'd waist much time when it comes to proposing to you. He knew you were the one the second he met you, of course he'll let your relationship grow and strangthen but he'd definitely bought a ring seven months into the relationship.

He'll carry the ring around everywhere too, without you knowing too. If there's a perfect moment to do it he'll have it on hand.

And you know Booth helped him pick out the ring.

Speaking of Booth and Bones, those to took you under their wings, Booth is your best friend and your adopted big brother. Temperance loves you to and you got her permission to call her Bones.

NSFW headcanons:

He tries his hardest to be romantic all the time, during sex especially. He wants you to know just how much he loves and adores you.

He's the most loving person during sex, hell he is all the time. He'll also try his best to make it as romantic as possible, if not he's always holding you close and kissing you so you know how much he loves you.

Your pace all depends on your moods honestly. Usually it's slow and loving, everything moves so quickly in his life so it's nice to just savor moments like this. But if you get him riled up or push the right buttons that switch will be flipped in seconds.

He loves missionary, keeping eye contact while he fucks you. He loves how you dig your nails into his back and wrap your legs around his waist to bring him impossibly closer.

He love getting head. I feel like he’d like having you on your knees. Plus, feeling your lips around him pushes him closer to cumming in your mouth.

Loves eating you out,your legs around his head. He loves your legs in general and loves leaving kisses on the insides of your thighs. He'd rather pleasure you for hours than receive.

Hair pulling, he loves feeling your fingers in his curls rather your tugging or just playing with it.

He loves hearing you moan. If you try to hold back or even muffle them when it's unnecessary, he'd put an end to it. “don't hold back, let me hear your voice”

He definitely has a Praise kink, he loves making you feel loved and appreciated. He love how he can easily make you blush. “your so Beautiful”

He's not opposed to hearing your praises either, he wants to know how good he's making you feel.

He's a soft Dom and he always makes sure your comfortable. He loves to take control in the bed but would never push you.

I think he'll feel most a power if your in his office and he has you bend over his desk or maybe your just setting on top of it, getting railed.

I think he needs to keep eye contact and just feel you as close as possible, so if your on his desk your facing each other. He loves it when you wrap your legs around his waist pulling him closer as he rams into you.

There has been a couple of times Booth has walked in on you, he'll hear the desk legs scratching aginst the floor and things falling. Safe to day Booth has lernd to knock.

“Lance he just saw us!” you panted.

“I was too busy to notice” he said kissing your shoulder.

So there's alot of office sex with him, they're mostly quickies which aren't his favorite but he's never apposed to it.

Speaking of which, he refuses to refer sex as 'fucking', he thinks is degrading towrds you so it's just sex or 'making love' in his vocabulary.

This man is amazing when it comes to aftercare. He knows exactly what you need and when. After your both cleaned up and he makes sure your okay he'll pull you to his chest to cuddle, my boy needs cuddles after sex.

[the0maski]

Little thoughts and feelings about Update Dawn part 9| part 1

Malo Mart mentioned!!!

Twilight Princess: In game Link can’t afford anything in Malo Mart Castle Branch, right?

Since I haven’t played TP, does the one in Kakariko Village closed once the one in Castle Town open?

Oh Four what are you doing to your poor grandpa! He will be so grounded the moment the chain visits his time. But I don’t think his old man will be to harsh to him

In the beginning of Minish Cap, Smith tells Zelda that Link had helped him at the forge the whole night and that’s the reason he slept in. MC Link does his chores like the good grandkid he is!

Sky…I don’t remember Skyloft having a Postal Service…? And the Surface doesn’t have one yet…so unless a blue or red loftwing shows up I doubt Sky gets a letter…

I have no doubt that the range is safe, but I have a theory of why Time is still tense about everything.

It’s clear that Time didn’t like the stand Twilight pulled to get to The Shadow. Not like Warriors, who was mad, because it complicated their work together, but because Twilight really doesn’t know when to quit! (Similar mentality to Hyrule)

Yet Time seams to know the consequences first hand, seeing how he says: »But I saw something I knew I couldn’t stop. That pure determined courage.« later he adds »That choice alone could have claimed your life. Don’t push yourself like that.

Sadly Oot Link is one of the more stoic 3D Link so I couldn’t say if this could be a reference to the game, but I’m sure it kinda is.

1. Theory: The final battle against Ganondorf/ Ganon

Maybe Time was remembered how he felt and acted against Ganondorf. Since Jojo takes more out of the games implied lore for her comics, it can also be a subtle hint to the downfall timeline. The Hero (Oot Link) dies in his final battle against Ganon, which leads to seven sages sealing the evil king inside the sacred realm.

Is not clear how the Hero dies, but if this is a subtle hint, than Time saw and experienced, technical, his own death in that fight.

2. Theory: Fierce Deity and how Time lost his eye

Little is known about the Fierce Deity in LU canon, but going from the little we know the Fierce Deity is their own soul inside the mask. Time said, »I have Items that could drive a man mad.«

Maybe the "pure determined courage" lead to him getting over powered by the mask dark powers, following him losing an eye. Not sure if the mask had a direct impact on Time losing his eye, or if it was caused by an enemy he couldn’t avoid in time.

Time also didn’t fear Majora’s Mask, just saying that » I‘d be far more afraid of what destroyed the demon.« while looking into Majora’s eyes as the Fierce Deity. There is no fear of the mask he has. However, there is to little evidence for any of this as well.

Putting it lightly? Sir, you quite literally death glared your descendent into quitting being stubborn! If Twi wasn’t mortally wounded, Time would have yeeted him to the inn, no question asked.

Not sure if the game touched the subject or if I’m projecting, but since Oot Link got a lot of bullying from Mido and other, I always imagined him with a quick temper and bad emotion control. Time could be the same, yet since he is older he keeps himself in check.

More on part 2

[justagalwhowrites]

i’m interested to see how joel would react to doc getting killed!! or bitten…. i love the angst tbh! 😅 maybe during that awkward time period where they weren’t really talking but still hooking up.. they still loved eachother so much couldn’t say it because they “hated” eachother 😮

OMG Hi Bestie! 

OK so because I'm a masochist (who shares in this fun hobby of tormenting myself with images of pain with someone who shall remain nameless) I've thought about this a lot. Shared below, with permission, is some of the noodling I've done on this topic with the aforementioned anonymous person who likes to give me INCREDIBLY ANGSTY AND DEPRESSING THOUGHT EXERCISES I SWEAR THIS IS A TWO WAY STREET Y'ALL. Please note that none of this is in story format and Doc is she instead of you because that's how I think about the fic in abstract terms? I guess? I don't know lol it's a mess in my head.

ANYWAY 

Putting this below the cut because it's probably a step beyond angst. I cannot stress enough that this is like... super depressing and also COMPLETELY RAW AND UNEDITED, all I did was pull out comments/prompts from the other person out of respect for them. So please limit your judgement as much as possible this stuff is real bad lol 

Below is Joel if she got bit on the Harvard run.

how terrified he was when he thought she might be bitten, how the first place his mind went was "I can kill her and I'll only need to be around for a few seconds after she's gone"If she got bit and he needed to kill her, he'd try so hard to keep it together for her. She'd be low key panicking and be like "Please don't let me turn into one of those things, please just kill me, please" and he'd just brush her hair back and hold her face in his hand all gentle and be like "I won't baby, not gonna let you go through that, OK? I've got you, it's OK. It'll be real quick, won't feel a thing and I'll be right behind you, OK? I'm right behind you, it's OK" and he'd hold her when he did it so she didn't feel alone and he'd keep holding her when he did it to himself, too

If Doc died in the tub the night that Joel left her in the QZ 

Joel is trying to avoid herTommy goes to the clinic that day and she's not there, which he expects because she's not supposed to be there on Sundays, but hears someone say her name and how they aren't sure how they're going to cover everything without her and there's a "...I still really miss her" at the end and he's like "wtf' and so he asks until he finds someone who will actually talk to him and he's like "no, we're old friends, I just haven't seen her in a few weeks, what happened?" and Marta just kinda looks at him like "how can you not know this" and says "She died. They weren't really sure how, if she did it on purpose or if she passed out but she drowned in her bathtub" and Tommy is, of course, reeling because he loved her, too. But he's also like "Oh fuck I have to tell Joel" and he's kind of in a daze and just walks around the QZ for a few hours and he gets home and Joel is just like "the fuck is your problem" and he's like "Joel... brother, you... I need you to sit down, OK? Need you to just... stay calm for me, OK?" and he says her name and then kinda stops and Joel gets this bad feeling and is like "what" and Tommy is quiet and he's like "what, Tommy. What is it. She fuck up something else, what'd she do, what's going on" and he's just like "She's dead, Joel." and Joel is silent for a minute and then asks what happened and how and Tommy really doesn't want to tell Joel what they told him and so Joel just gets up and Tommy tries to stop him and he's like "Don't fucking touch me" and he goes to Andrew's and he pounds on the door until Andrew answers and Andrew looks like hell, he's lost weight and he looks like he's hardly slept and he looks kind of dead in the eyes until he sees Joel and then he just looks like he wants to just set him on fire and he's like "The fuck are you doing here"

and Joel is like "what happened, you have to know what happened, please, fuck, please tell me what happened to her" and Andrew shoves him and just yells "You! You happened, you fucking happened! She died that night you fucking asshole, she lived for you and she fucking died for you, too. I hope you're fucking happy" and Joel is just practically frozen there and just lets Andrew wail on him for a minute before he looks at him and goes "you must fuckin hate me, right?" "Oh I more than hate you you fucking..." "Good. Kill me. Don't... don't care how just... please, fuck just..." and Andrew just kind of laughs at him darkly and says "No, no I'm not doing you any fucking favors, Miller. I have to live with the fact that I left her alone that night. You get to live with the fact that her blood's on your hands." Jess pulls Andrew back inside and Joel just trudges home but Tommy is kind of waiting for him, he's already stashed all the guns and the knives and he got Tess because he knows what Joel is like when he loses someone like thatand Joel only asked Andrew to do it because he couldn't risk flinching again, he had to do it right this time and he goes for where he keeps his gun as soon as he's in the door and it's gone and Tommy is just crying and he's like "Joel, you can't, I'm sorry..." and he's like "Just give me the fuckin' gun, Tommy! I can't do this, not again, I can't, I can't" and he just drops to his knees and Tommy holds onto him Tommy and Tess take turns, he's literally never alone for months. Eventually they think he can be trusted on his own and he's OK for a while but I think it wouldn't take all that long before he's gone, too it wouldn't be as obvious as a gun, it'd be him making a stupid mistake and getting bit or shot or an accident on a job in the qzand all the time in between he'd be such a shell of himself, Tess and Tommy always sharing a look when it's especially bad like "this has to get better at some point, right?"and when it eventually happens, neither Tess or Tommy are ever sure if it's really an accident or not. Joel wasn't really sure either, he just knew that the last thing he thought of was that last morning before Doc flew back to New York where he got her pregnant in the water and her and Sarah made French toast

SO YEAH that's just the most depressing shit in the world lol 

LOVE YOU!!

[gh0stlyfixation]

Prince Consort

I got an ask from a anon and I lost it so here’s what I can remember of the request 😅: Simon is married to a future queen and he has to bend the knee to her kinda like in The Crown except he’s thrilled to pledge his loyalty to her. One night before the coronation the reader and him practice his knee bending making them both feel more comfortable and confident with there future changing

Warnings: none really, based off The Crown, grammar issues I bet.

Simon Riley x fem!reader

It was sudden and unexpected, your father had died. The King of your country. You run to his room, ready to shake him awake, but Simon is quick to pull you back. He knows they are preparing his body, you shouldn’t see that. Simon, you sweet, stubborn husband. The day you met him was a blessing in your life.

“Simon this is Princess Y/N,” Simon lightly curtesy’s you, and you offer him a smile. He was handsome. You knew of this soldier, Ghost wore a skull mask in battle. He was skilled no doubt, which hints at the reason he is here in front of the King and his daughter, the princess.

“Simon, your accomplishments are notable and honorable which is why we’ve invited you here tonight. We wanted to give your metal in-person, honor your sacrifices.” You say with a smile holding out a medal.

He was injured in combat, saving the lives of hundreds all by himself, and he was medically and honorably discharged. Simon didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. The military was all he did, so when the police told him the princess wants to meet him and thank him, he felt as if he did have a purpose still.

A purpose is to serve the people in some way shape or form. “Thank you, princess.” He says. He was smitten with you, he’s only ever seen you on the news or social media on the little time he did go on it. You were as beautiful as he’s seen, stunning. He knew he’d never get a chance with you, with your high status and him being a common person, but times have changed. It’s no longer the 1800s.

You took Simon on the tour of the castle, explaining its history and telling funny stories of you growing up, Simon realizes you are just as normal as he was. You’ve wanted nothing more than a true genuine connection and you had that with Simon.

You’ve kept in touch over the months, having late-night calls. Eventually, Simon asked you on a date in the safety of your gardens, then asked if you’d be his girlfriend then he asked your father for your hand in marriage, “a man like you would be perfect for our future. I give you my blessing.” The king always treated Simon with such kindness, as if he was his son, something Simon never got with his father.

But now, your world is falling apart. The simple life you and Simon led now in your country side cottage comes apart as you are officially the Queen. The talks have started about what Simons title would be, he’s been upgraded to a prince when he married you, but he couldn’t be a King because he didn’t have royal blood.

None of that matter to Simon, he didn’t care if he received the title of a prince, he only cared about you and being with you. He fell in love with you and only you, not your title, you. You were his world. After being discharged he had nothing and you gave him everything.

So now Simon sits as the practice of your coronation watching as you practice your line with the priest, “you’ll have to bend the knee to her and pledge your loyalty.” Her assistant speaks to Simon.

“Anything for her,” he says. Your assistant sees the love he holds for you and it’s something she’s never seen herself.

It’s the night before the coronation and you stare at the crown you are soon to wear. Your father, your grandmother, and many others of your relatives wore this exact crown. You huff and cross your arms, “what’s with the long look?” Simon ask leaning on the door frame shooing away a guard.

“What if this thing falls off my head?” You ask him.

Your eyes are drooping from how tired you are and he smiles, “you won’t. You are fit to be a queen.” He tells you walking up to you and wrapping his arms securely around your waist as he rests his chin on your shoulders looking up at the crown with you. Never in his wildest dreams did he think he’d be here today, retired from the military, with a royal title, and with the prettiest girl of them all. “Why don’t you try it on?” He asks you. “Practice,” he says.

“I’ve already practiced today. You were there.” You quipped back.

He chuckles, “that is true, but I haven’t been able to practice. They seem to think I’ll do fine.” Simon says.

You bend your neck enough to look up at him when he removes his chin from your shoulder, “are you nervous Simon?” You ask him.

“Nervous I’ll mess up my lines, nervous to be on tv? No, I’m perfectly fine.” He forces a smile. You giggle and look over at the throne. Carefully you grab the crown and walk towards the throne and settle into it.

You place the heavy crown on your head, “let’s practice then.” You smirk. Simon rolls his eyes but he take a minute to look how perfect you are in your chair. He walks up to you and kneels.

He grips your knee with one hand and looks up at you, “I, Simon, do become your liege man of life and limb and of earthly worship and faith and truth I will bear unto you, to live and die, against all man of folks so help me god.” (Line from The Crown, all credits to that)

The room feels stuffy as you and Simon look at one another, it’s dawned on you how important tomorrow will be. How millions will watch you be crowned queen and watch the man you love swear his loyalty to you. Simon stands, his frame towering over you as his hand touches the top of your crown he kissed your cheek and backs away while still watching you and slightly bowing down to you.

Now here you are walking down the aisle of the old church that many of your great grands walked through, your left hand holding Simon's right hand delicately as you look over at him giving him a smile to rid of his nervousness. He looks up at your emerald green crown gifted by your grandmother then back down at you giving your hand a tight squeeze and mouthing, I love you, before departing so you sit on the old wooden chair and be crowned Queen.

[hiraya-rawr]

I got this ayato idea while I was in class like instead of ayato cheating on the reader it's the reader and ayato who are having an affair but in a good way like

Ayato and his wife had a political marriage and his wife told him that they both should be free to have affairs or be with their lover bcz loving someone is not something you can force yourself into. Ayato despite his smarts he agrees with this. It's not gonna tarnish his reputation if the affair isn't found out right? Plus the one he loves is the reader so he's happy to be with them and the reader also deeply in love with commisioner is ready for it too.

Ever since the reader and ayato became lovers ayato has always been visiting the reader at night spending time with them since they can't interact much in public due to the rivalry of the families. This continues after marriage too.

Ayato fell for the reader for like yk being there for him during his hard time,caring for his loved ones and by being his safe place to be himself. And when his dear wife is like that ayato finds himself being a bit more affectionate towards her. Ayato doesn't realise it but he's slowly falling out of love with the reader while starting to grow more affectionate towards his wife. However the reader who knows ayato more than himself catches on quick .

His nightime visits , the number of letters he write to the reader all had reduced to the point he rarely comes and when the reader confronts him he makes excuses saying he's busy

But after seeing ayato and his wife at place which used to be the reader's and ayato's secret meet up location the reader has lost her hope in their affair. The way he smiled at her ,the way he intertwined his hands with her placing kisses on her wrists, everything he did with her screamed the fact he was so in love

Even tho the reader is supposed to be sad they don't feel anything but maybe a little happy seeing ayato being head over heels with someone who's better than them, maybe ayato and his wife are meant to be

And the worst thing is his wife, she's absolutely amazing both her looks and personality. even though she had allowed it ayato never told her he was having an affair and introduced you as a good friend. She talks to you like you are family and is always thanking for helping the kamisato siblings back in the days. You can never hate her. She genuinely loves the family and takes great care of them

But as much as you're happy it hurts so much seeing ayato , your first love, your first at everything fall for someone else. You can't bear to see them look at each other like they both are the most precious thing to each other

Then everything like every other ladies of age your father had come to you with a marriage proposal from mondstadt for you which you don't oppose because why not your dear lover is now happy with his wife then what's stopping you? But then ayato comes again questioning you ab your marriage. He asks if he should send a letter to the owner of the dawn winery to reject your proposal and the reader just loses their shit with all of the things going on now . All the ugly feelings of jealousy and grief you had for ayato just explodes and ayato then realises how much it had affect you, replacing you after giving you so much hope. And all he could do was watch as your face remained the same almost as if trying to tell him he meant nothing more but the tears flowed through your cheeks proved otherwise.he couldn't get himself to make up one excuse afterall he was at the fault too

I know this was long and kinda yk over but you were the first one who came to my mind when I thought ab it sksk and also it's my first time sending ask In your acc. I love your acc sm

AND ALL GOOD LUCK ON ALHAITHAM BANNER GET THAT SMART SMEXY MAN ✧⁠\⁠(⁠>⁠o⁠<⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠✧ *manifesting early alhaitham and standard banner diluc for you*

I really don't know what to say but I just love complicated marriage lives (fictional only, ofc) AAAAH I love it! the openness of a contract marriage that eventually falls into place, it's the happy ending a couple deserves– but, with mc being the side character, it only shows how painful it feels 😭 how cute

thank you for thinking of me when you wondered who to send this brainrot to! i do love married brainrots.