#or at least gave myself plenty of feels with

[blackjackkent]

Given all that business with Shar and Shadowheart, I've come to the conclusion about something that needs to happen for Hector, at least in my headcanon if not canonically in the game.

------

"Copper for your thoughts, love?" Karlach asks softly as she crawls into bed next to him in the Elfsong.

He's already stretched out on his back under the blankets, staring at the high rafters of the ceiling thoughtfully, and it takes him a moment to come back to himself at the sound of her voice. He smiles, though, as his eyes meet hers, and scoots aside at once to give her room to snuggle up against him. "They're complex enough that I think a copper might be undercharging," he says ruefully.

She slides an arm under his shoulders, pulls him into her arms so his head is nestled on her shoulder and against her cheek. "Well. I've got time," she says, kissing his temple gently. "You scared me, you know. Back there. I don't know what Shar did with you but you and Shadowheart and her parents all just... I dunno. You sort of phased out, went all smoky, and everything got dark..."

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I didn't know any of that was going to happen..."

"I know." She hesitates. "You really spoke to her? The goddess?"

"We both did." He sighs heavily. "And she was exactly as cruel as I was always taught she was. But for better or for worse, Shadowheart's free of her now, I suppose..."

She noses against his hair, another kiss to the top of his head. "You sound like something's still bothering you, though."

"Well, all of it, I suppose. How awful the whole thing was for Shadowheart, for one thing. But... other, more selfish things, too." He pauses, and then the words burst out of him. "Is it so much to ask, that if I am to face down Shar, and Myrkul, and Vlaakith and Orpheus and Mystra and Bhaal and Bane... is it so much to ask, that I come so close to Selune, even once?"

She frowns. "You're asking the wrong person, I'm afraid," she mutters.

"No, I... I know. It's not really something anyone can answer, anyway. I just... grow frustrated, at times. Fifty years I've lived trying to follow the Moonmaiden's light, and now here I am at the center of a battle where all the gods seem to be converging..."

"And yet yours hasn't spared a word for you."

"Yes." He sighs. "Don't worry. It'll... it'll pass. Today's just put me at a low ebb, that's all. All of us really, I think."

"No kidding." She rolls over into him, pulls him fully into her embrace.

As always, he starts to relax at once; no matter how terrible the day is, this is always safety, always home. He turns his head so he can press a kiss under her jaw and lets his eyes close. "Good night," he mumbles. "It'll all look better in the morning, I expect..."

------

His eyes drift open and at first he's conscious only of a strange, floating sensation. Everything around him is the pale blue-white of pure moonlight, and it is a blank abyss without a point of reference. For a moment he almost panics, feeling that sense of emptiness in all directions that almost reflects what he saw in the Shadowfell, or his vision of the Absolute in Moonrise Towers...

But the panic eases almost at once, because he is dimly aware on some level that he is dreaming, that somewhere he is still in bed with Karlach's arms around him. And because he realizes with a sudden soul-shocking clarity that Selune is there watching him.

She takes no form as Shar did; she is in the very moonlight that surrounds him. And where Shar's voice was a thunder-rumble of cruelty, the voice that speaks to him now is soft, a gentle murmur, almost a whisper in his ear.

"Poor boy..." his goddess says to him softly. "Poor boy that has traveled so far in my name, and grown so weary..."

He cannot speak. His tongue feels frozen in his mouth. But his head lifts, looking around wildly, drinking in the sense of the presence he cannot see, like a parched man spying an oasis in the desert.

"Hector Carlisle, you show a strong front to the world..." the voice whispers, and there is a touch of kind amusement in it. "So strong it could fool even the divine. I should have reached out to you long past..." A touch like silk drifts across his cheek. "But do not believe that you travel alone."

He finds his voice with difficulty; the words stick in his throat a little, hoarse and uncertain. "I knew I did not..." he whispers. "So many times I have felt your light on me in the dark places... so many allies you have sent to help me carry the load..."

And yet they both know the truth - that he has longed for his goddess to speak to him, to bring him words of comfort and approval and pride... to tell him with certainty that he has done her will and hewed to the right course...

"My son... lonely child of my faith..." the Moonmaiden says, and there is an infinite sadness in that divine voice now. "Would that you could have been spared it all - the darkness you have been forced to face, and the darkness that yet lies ahead. The burden you bear is one that evil wrought for you to carry, and you have borne it beyond all my expectations."

He swallows the lump that forms in his throat at hearing these words. "There is so much... so much more to the world than I ever imagined..."

"It is a place full of life, full of light and full of darkness," she agrees. "A place you were ill-prepared for, and yet you have thrived."

"Have I done as you would wish?"

"You have done as your heart guided."

"With Shadowheart, with Aylin-- matters so close to you, did I do as you wanted?"

Again that faintest hint of amusement. "Had you done otherwise, I would have made sure you knew it long before now..."

A pause while he drinks in the overwhelming comfort that comes with that reassurance.

"Will we be all right?" he asks softly.

"Even I cannot say..." Selune answers. A thread of iron runs beneath the silk-smoothness of her voice. "The Dead Three have constructed a weapon that has broken beyond their control. Were it in my power to tell you the exact path that lies ahead, I would do so. But my light penetrates only so far before all becomes shrouded beneath shadows even deeper than Shar's."

He nods slowly. "I knew that, really," he answers, his head bowing.

"But you travel with my blessing," she continues. He feels a blossom of warmth grow in his heart, spread tingling through his whole body. "Let hope sustain you, for it is not lost yet, nor shall it be."

"Thank you..." he whispers. He feels dizzy with relief, with gratitude, with the sudden urge to smile and to sob simultaneously. "I will not forget it..."

"Rest, now, my boy..." she whispers gently in his ear, and he feels the moonlit abyss around him begin to fade out of his awareness. "Rest, and carry my light with you into the morning..."

-----

His eyes open again. He is back in the Elfsong, back in bed next to Karlach; she is face down, snoring into the pillow, her arm stretched haphazardly across his chest. And for a moment, with Karlach's embrace around him and Selune's voice in his mind, he feels a sense of deep peace such as he has never imagined he might experience again.

Thank you... he thinks, and tears sprout in his eyes. Thank you... I will not fail you... I swear it...

[theflyingfeeling]

still sick but alive, unfortunately 🤧

[kathaynesart]

BABY HEIST!

BEGINNING || PREVIOUS || NEXT MASTER POST

I'm sick as a dog, but at least it gave me the time to stay home and finish this update! This special though is definitely going to be lasting through into the new year, but I figure I would rather take the time to see it to completion rather than try to stuff it into some arbitrary date. It was so fun finally getting to do Casey Sr and Raph though. I wanted to give these two some time to shine since we see so little of them in Replica.

MOTHEROOD/CASEY TED TALK TIME UNDER THE CUT

I will admit... I've never been a big fan of the dumpster baby scenario for Casey Jr. It's not a bad scenario at all! Plenty of amazing stories have used it and it certainly embraces the "found family" theme of TMNT. It just always seemed a little unrealistic given the harsh state of the world (or at least as unrealistic as you can get in a story about brain aliens and mutant turtles haha). It's certainly an easier and simpler setup (removes the dad out of the picture for sure) but I wonder sometimes if this choice of origin story gets picked a lot simply because it's difficult to envision Cassandra going through pregnancy and typical motherhood willingly. However, if that's the core reason, I feel as if that does her character a great disservice!

After re-watching a few episodes with her, it's shocking the amount of depth of character Cassandra has (even compared to some in the main cast). I love her because while she's a passionate woman who makes mistakes, she's also extremely introspective and sensitive (something we see a great deal in the Brownie episode).

While I have never been a mother myself, a good number of my closest friends have been. Some of whom I could have NEVER IN A MILLION YEARS seen becoming mothers. Yet those people end up becoming some of the most amazing moms I've ever seen. Being a mom changes you, both physically and mentally in a way that I think gets glossed over in general storytelling. While I can't necessarily show that change much in Replica, I can at least give a nod to the fact that Cassandra, for all her flaws, is an amazing woman who I think would be an awesome mom! Thank you as always for your support!

[rememberwren]

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Third time’s the charm. Simon/fem!reader. Handjobs, edging, cumming untouched, thigh riding, femdom behavior, somewhat submissive!simon, literally tried to cure my depression with this (did not work)

-

“You said you usually go three times in a session. We should try one more time, shouldn’t we?” 

Ghost looks at you like you’ve grown an extra set of eyes. He shakes his head a little, his eyes hard and disbelieving when they meet your own. “Have I not embarrassed myself enough for you?”

“Not really—? I mean—fuck,” you fumble, running a hand down face. “That didn’t come out right. I just meant that I don’t feel like you have any reason to be embarrassed.” 

He stares at you, through you, like if he looks long and hard enough he’ll be able to see your truth straight down to your bones. Well let him look. He hadn’t exactly bared his soul during the few weeks you had spent discussing this before meeting in person, but he had told you plenty: his issue had cost him relationships. It had cost him jobs thanks to lack of focus. Friendships thanks to neglect. You couldn’t imagine anyone willingly choosing something which gave them so much suffering. His lack of complicity cleared him of any blame in your eyes. 

At length, he must see that there is some honesty in you. Looking like it pains him, he nods his head, hulking shoulders deflating a little. “Fine. One more time. I’ll need a few minutes though.”

“That’s fine,” you offer, and it is, or at least it would be if it meant you both didn’t have to sit in complete silence, Ghost uneager to offer up conversation topics and you too awkward to try. 

He keeps staring at you, too. Or more specifically, your breasts. You’re wearing a simple t-shirt, but the effect is aided by one of your prettier bras. You had worn it unsure if Ghost was serious in his insistence that there would be no sex taking place between you both 

It seemed a pity for it to go to waste. 

“Do you want to see?” you ask him, fingers finding the hem of your shirt and gripping it tightly, folding it a little anxiously back and forth like an accordion’s bellows. 

“See? What? No—!”

“I don’t mind, honestly.”

Ghost reaches up a hand to rub at one eye like a headache is forming behind it. His mouth never abandons its signature frown, even as he says, “If you want? Jesus, fuck. I don’t know. I’m not going to stop you.”

You find that you do want. You kneel up, take the hem of your t-shirt into your hands and work it up over your breasts. For all his lack of enthusiasm, his eyes crack open straightaway and glue themselves to you, widening a little at the sight of your strappy, lace-laden bra. 

“I know you didn’t fucking wear that for me,” he says, sounding winded. 

“I’ll be honest, I thought this was just a ploy to hook up. I wore the matching panties too, do you—“

“Stop—talking,” he mutters, closing his eyes. His hand reaches down towards his (valiantly hardening) cock, but thinks twice, turns into a fist, and comes to rest at his side. “And under no circumstance should you take your pants off.”

“Got it. Pants stay on.”

Ghost sighs. “I’m ready. Let’s get it over with.”

That’s the spirit, you think to yourself dryly. You lift your hand to your mouth, creating a little cup with your palm and to spit in, your eyes locked on his own. You hear the click as he swallows, but it’s progress that he doesn’t cum, right? That must mean that he had experienced some level of desensitization, either to you as a partner or to the specific stimulus or a mixture of both. 

But that’s not how this is supposed to work. The whole point is to help him learn to last when he’s as desperate as possible, hoping that edging when he’s truly suffering will lead to a more satisfying orgasm and therefore a need for fewer of them. 

You lower your hand instead of spitting and grip the hem of your shirt, tugging it off over your head altogether. Ghost can’t seem to find his tongue, staring at you with dark, huge eyes as you reach around back and fumble with the clasp of your bra, but at last that comes undone, and you peel it away from you, letting it join his jeans and your shirt on the floor. 

His eyes rake over your naked breasts, mouth forming a curse that he lacks the breath to whisper. His cock is so hard and heavy that it lays against his belly, thick and twitching. 

You shift and straddle his thighs just proximal to his knees. He fists the bedsheets, abs tensing sharply as he watches you with silent awe and trepidation. 

“What are you doing?” He whispers. 

“Getting comfortable?” you suggest. 

Now you cup your hand and spit into it. Then you offer it to him, holding out your hand expectantly. Looking wary, he leans up onto his elbows, ducks his head, and spits into your hand too, quite delicately for being a giant of a man. 

You take your hand and place it palm down against where his cock lays on his belly, slicking the underside from top to bottom. Ghost groans, a low sound torn deep from his chest. He collapses off of his elbows and onto his back, hands finding his eyes and palming at them again while you slick his cock all over with a delicate touch, barely more than a tickle. 

“Are you teasin’ me?” he grits out. 

“I would never.” The tips of your wet fingers trail down over his balls, tight and drawn up against his body already. He hisses through his teeth, cock flexing. You fight a grin. 

Taking him firmly in your hand, you give him a series of smooth, slow strokes, your hand loose and gentle where it is cupped around him. His body writhes against the sheets. 

“Stop, please stop,” he gasps, and you do, letting his cock fall to rest against his belly with a soft thud. He opens his eyes, takes one look at your tits, and squeezes them shut again. ”Fuck, can’t believe you took your shirt off.” 

“I can put it back on if you want.” 

“Really don’t want that. Really fucking don’t. Just—sit there. Please,” he tacks on to the end like an afterthought. You’re grateful to have received a please at all. He takes deep, slow breaths, his nostrils flaring as he strains for air. 

When he gives you a curt nod, eyes still firmly closed, you reach down and use one hand to grip the base of his cock. The other you place toward the head so that you can softly drag your thumb over the deep red tip, tracing the sensitive ridge and over the leaking slit. He whines, honest to god whines, a sound which you feel viscerally in your belly and lower. You shift on his thighs, wondering if it would be so bad to just straddle one, to get some pressure right where you need it most. It’s not like there’s any sort of propriety in a situation like this. He’s getting his, why can’t you get yours? 

You use your thumb to trace a vein up the length of his shaft and smooth the slick over his tip, polishing it softly. 

“Fucking—! Stop! Stop!” 

You stop, and you swallow an unhappy sound. Things had just been getting fun—for you, at least. Ghost looks like he’s being put through the wringer, redness creeping down his neck to disappear under his shirt, knuckles white where he grips the sheets, breaths rapid and shallow. 

“Fuck,” he whispers. He laughs a little, a self-deprecating, unhappy sound. “You’re too good at that.” 

“Good with my mouth too,” you say on a whim. 

His eyes flash open, wide and surprised (and narrowed in on your mouth), his lips parted in a look of near comical astonishment. His hand scrambles to grip around the base of his cock, squeezing painfully. “You—you’re enjoying this aren’t you?” 

“Way more than I thought I would,” you admit. “An obscene amount, honestly—I’m so wet—“

Ghost releases his death grip around his balls and strokes his cock, once, twice, thrice, quick little strokes as his face crumples, as he gives up on the whole fucking thing. You can see it in his face, the defeat, the submission. He’s going to jerk himself off to a quick, unsatisfying release—but it doesn’t seem fair. 

“Stop,” you hiss, reaching out to grip his wrist. He lets go of himself like he’s been burned, immediately obedient even as his face twists with fury. He pulls away from your touch but watches as you shift until just one of his thick thighs is between your own. 

You give a soft, gentle sway of your hips against him. His face is so fucking expressive, his eyes and brows and mouth telegraphing his every little thought and feeling. He watches you with something like tortured awe, eyes flickering towards where your clothed pussy rubs against his bare thigh. 

“Don’t touch yourself,” you breathe, pleasure zipping up your spine at the friction against your cunt. “I want to see if you can cum like this.”

“Came went you spat in your fucking hand,” he breathes, abs tensing, cock twitching as precum pools in his happy trail, watching as you get yourself off against his thigh. “Can cum like this no fucking problem.” 

“You’re not as sensitive now,” you pant, planting a hand against his tensed chest to gain the leverage you need to lengthen the rolling of your hips. 

“Am too.”

“We’ll see.”

His face twists. “Will you—keep going? Even if I do?”

You consider for a moment and then shake your head, breaths too shallow to make words properly. You feel saturated, swollen and sensitive. Every drag of your hips sends muted pleasure up your spine. Normally this would take you ages to cum, but you haven’t been this worked up in a long time. Watching Ghost’s cock turn shades of red and plum is like live pornography, obscene and arousing. Feeling a little cruel, you tell him: “Gotta hold it.”

He tenses his thighs, heels digging into the bed. It does something to the muscle pressed against your cunt and makes your nails dig into his chest. 

He’s shaking his head. “No. Negative. Can’t.”

“Hafta.” 

“Can’t—fuck, I—“

“Goddamnit Ghost,” you whine, hips working feverishly against him. “Hold it and let me cum.”

He really can’t—really and truly. His cock spurts against his belly, a pitiful amount of pearly cum as he groans low and long, moan forming half-hearted, breathy apologies: sorry, ‘m sorry, couldn’t hold it—

You groan, a sound more frustrated than aroused. Your hips slow and stop, and your mouth fights to make a pout. You will it away. It really isn’t his fault. 

“You…you don’t have to stop,” he says, a little shyly. 

You shift off of him and swallow your own sigh, feeling sticky and unsatisfied. “It’s okay,” you reassure him. “Maybe next time I’ll get my pants off.” 

His cock, spent, still twitches against his belly. 

[lqveharrington]

Many Kisses | M.M

summary: miles is just too cute and you can’t contain it anymore, him returning it back <3

pairing: earth 1610!miles morales x fem!reader

warnings: (not proof read !!) no use of y/n, fluff, loads of kissing, miles being an adorable person and great boyfriend in general, lmk if i missed any

a/n: my brain just thinks on a daily that miles is so cute that i wanna pocket him and keep him for myself, ALSO, i do truly believe miles would call his s/o cute names in spanish a lot because of his mother. (p.s. the other one-shot is under way !!)

————

You were beyond bored, scrolling through your phone to at least sufism the boredom Miles left you in. He was playing video games and you were curled up in his bed, not entirely sure why he invited you over in the first place.

You had changed into some of his clothes upon arriving, picking his oversized shirt and old shorts to feel more contented despite the lack of affection coming from your boyfriend.

“Miles?” You call out, turning to face his backside.

“Amor?” He responded back in his subtle flirty way.

You huff in amusement, pulling his blanket closer to yourself as the smell gave you comfort. “How much longer do you have?”

“Uh, I don’t know… It could be awhile. Why?” Miles leaned with the game, slightly jumping. “You good?”

“What? Yeah, m’just bored.” You smile at how he focused on the game, knowing that his tongue was poking out.

It was normal for Miles to put all his attention on one thing and still be so cute while doing so. Working on a school project, helping his mother cook, or simply sleeping next to you. But for you being the only one to enjoy his adorable face making and mannerisms, you felt like pocketing him up and keeping him for yourself.

You stared at him while he was gaming, but being too quiet brought Miles’ attention back on you.

“Mi vida?” Miles pushed away from his set up as the loading screen pulled up, spinning around to face you instead. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

You hum, pink dusting your cheeks. “Jus’ thinking.”

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He take your hand and laced it with his. “Besides me of course.”

“Technically, nothing else.” You mumble, glancing away from him and down to your intertwined hands. “Your just so… I’m not too sure how to describe it. Like, ugh.”

“Like, ugh?” He raised his brows.

You click your tongue, “Like so cute, I guess is a word to describe it. I just wanna squeeze you so hard with a hug and never let go.”

“Cuteness aggression comin’ outta no where.” Miles’ pecks your hand. “Give me a sec.”

You shut your eyes as he lets go of your hand, sinking into the comfort of his bed. Only when you feel the weight shift on the bed do you open your eyes.

“What’re you doing, Miles? I thought you and Ganke had to game for a bit?” You question as he slots himself in between your legs, head resting on your shoulder.

“We did, but I realized that my amazing, cute girlfriend needed my attention.” He pecked some of your exposed shoulder, slowly making his way up. “You’re just so incredible, mi vida.”

You blink, feeling tired from the weight on you.

He continued to leave light kisses and kissed all over your face. Your forehead, cheeks, nose, anywhere accessible to him he would kiss. The one place you wanted a kiss he was purposely avoiding.

You give a joking pout, still patiently waiting for the kiss on your lips but still received none.

Miles left one last kiss on your forehead before laying back down, moving his body to lay on his side to face you.

Staring at his lips then back to his eyes, you sigh. “Miles?”

He hummed, keep his arms around your waist secure as your legs were tangled with his.

“I wanna kiss.”

“You got plenty of kisses.” He tried to hide his amusement, knowing you weren’t going to stop until you got a kiss on your lips.

“Yeah, I guess…” You bit your lip and think about your next move. “But you kinda missed a spot?”

“Where, mami?” Miles took one of his hand and brought it under your chin. He left a soft kiss to your cheek, “Here?”

You let a small smile slip through, “No…”

“You gotta tell me where, baby.” He rubbed the soft part of your check with his thumb. “Otherwise, I won’t know.”

“Here.” You pointed to your lips, his eyes following your movements.

He pulls you close to him, kissing you on the lips with his own soft ones, smiling into it when you quickly return the kiss. You cup his face, kissing him multiple times and giggling when he copies you.

“I love you so so so much.” You mumbled between kisses.

“I love you so much, more than you will ever know.” Miles says after giving you one last kiss and rests his forehead on yours. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

————

© lqveharrington — all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms.

[steveharringtonat3am]

Free use with Steve

kinktober masterlist!!

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 1.2k

warnings: roomate!steve, free use agreement (fully consensual), an allusion to sex, hair pulling, degradation, a little bit of bondage, penetrative sex, edging

a/n: shoutout to the loml @ddejavvu for helping me out with some characterization!! dedicating this one to her as 1/2 of her birthday present!! <3

When I had first seen Steve’s ad for a roommate, I hadn’t paid any mind to the lack of a rent price in the ad. I figured he would let me know if he actually wanted me to move in. So after he showed me around and we talked for a bit about all the major stuff, I asked about it. And he gave the most intriguing answer I’ve ever heard.

“Well, I’m gonna offer you two options. You could pay half of the rent, so about $900 a month or…you could-could pay nothing.” This option seems to make him nervous, as he shifts slightly in his seat.

“Pay nothing?”

“See, that comes with a catch. If you choose to pay nothing then I would cover you and…you would have to return the favour.” A hint of red colours his cheeks. While I admit it suits him, it gives me a hint as to where this conversation is going.

“And how would I do that?”

“By being a-available at all times.” He smiles sheepishly and fiddles with his hoodie strings

“Available for…what exactly?”

“Sex.” When he says it I think I’ve misheard him. But…he couldn’t have said anything else. He takes my staring as a cue to explain further.

“Well…that sounds bad. You don’t have to have sex with me, especially not right away. And you’re perfectly welcome to pay your half of the rent and completely forget about this. But I like you. And my job is…pretty stressful. So if you would be okay with me relieving that stress with you, I’d be happy to cover the full rent.” He smiles softly and I take a second to process all this. I mean, I did think he was really cute. And definitely my type.

Also, I didn’t have many other options for an apartment. This place was in a good neighbourhood, I had my own bathroom, a nice kitchen, and plenty of natural light. I would be crazy to give that up. And I would be even crazier to give up living rent-free in exchange for having occasional sex with my very hot roommate.

“You know what? Sure. You’ve got a deal, Harrington. Just don’t be a perv.” His laugh is boyish, grinning as he sips his water.

“You’ve got my word.”

So, I moved in a week later. Frankly, it was a great deal. Steve was incredibly sweet and we ended up spending a lot of time together. Which of course, had its perks.

“Holy shit,” I whisper into the hot room, as Steve collapses next to me, panting.

“Holy shit is right. I figured it would take at least another month before we hooked up.” He smiles at me and I can’t help but return it.

“I really thought the only times we would do anything would be whenever you wanna take your stress out on me,” I say as he tugs me close, pressing a soft kiss to the top of my head.

“Well, I had to give you a little preview of what you’re signing up for. Would hate to condemn you to mediocre sex.” He chuckles and I smile up at him.

“I don’t think anything about you is mediocre, Steve Harrington.”

After that, he really took advantage of our agreement. He started off slow, wandering hands when I was doing the dishes, gently groping me if I was near, a lewd comment every once in a while. Honestly, I liked it. It made me feel so wanted. I found myself craving every glance, comment, and touch.

When he finally upped the ante, bending me over the counter one night after dinner to fuck me with almost no warning, it was practically a dream come true.

And boy did Steve know it.

“Fucking stupid motherfuckers.” I hear Steve cursing under his breath as he slams the front door behind him. I pause my movie, turning to look at him. He’s toeing his shoes off, furiously tugging at his tie. I know how much he hated the thing. It represented everything he hated while working at his dad’s firm.

“Bad day?” I question, finally gaining his attention. The second his eyes focus on me, they darken.

“Mhm. Very…stressful.” He crosses the room quickly. His hand gently pushes my hair away from my face before gripping it tightly. Steve knows to grab at the base of the hairs, so it doesn’t hurt as much but I still wince.

“I-I can help with that?” I peer up at him and he breaks for a second, smiling fondly.

“You’re such a good girl…turn around?” He grips the fabric of his tie in his hands, making me grin and turn. The second I’m situated, he smacks me with it. It barely stings, but the surprise makes me yelp.

“Be quiet. Don’t wanna hear you.” He grips my wrists in one hand, wrapping his tie around them. This was not a new thing, so I don’t squirm. Steve enjoyed having my hands bound while he used me.

I try not to move as he tugs my pyjama pants down just enough to expose my ass. Luckily for him, it was laundry night so I had forgone panties.

“Such a slut.” He mumbles, ever a fan of degradation. His hand runs over the fat of my ass, squeezing the flesh appreciatively. He pulls away to undo his pants, the metal of his belt buckle clicking as he drops the leather to the floor. A small part of me is disappointed. I’d been hoping he’d spank me at least a few times. It always hurt so well.

I feel the head of his cock line up with my entrance and I bite my lip hard to keep from moaning.

“Fucking hell…” He curses as he starts pushing in. He goes slower than normal, maybe trying to make this last extra long. Steve was always a big fan of spending hours bringing both of us to the edge, just to stop so that we could do it all over again.

“Please…” I whisper before I can think. He stops and I tense, ready for him to spank me hard.

“I told you to be fucking quiet.” Before I can apologize, he slams into me. I gasp, barely able to catch my breath as he starts pounding into me.

“S-such a stupid toy.” He moans softly, nails digging into me. Moans continue to slip out of me as the head of his cock slams into that spot that makes me go crazy. He doesn’t bother reprimanding though, focusing on chasing his release.

“This pussy always feels so fucking good.” He groans. I can feel my orgasm building, the coil tightening with every deep thrust. I know Steve is on the edge, so I have to cum before he does. No way does he spend extra time on me now that I made noise.

“Shit!” He curses and I feel him cum. As his thrusts slow, my orgasm ebbs away. I whine weakly but he just chuckles and pulls out slowly. Cum slowly leaks out of me and runs down my thighs as Steve leans down to whisper in my ear.

“Don’t you know? Toys don’t get to cum.”

hope you enjoyed!!

[navybrat817]

Did you see the Sebastian photo with him in the leather jacket and Bucky hair? The black and white one? He looks so good!!!!!!!!

Is it the image below, nonnie? If so, yes! He looks amazing. So much that I had to share more rocker!Bucky. If not, I'm happy to receive the pic.

Everybody Wants a Taste

Pairing: Rocker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: Are you really Bucky's girl? He thinks so. Word Count: Over 1.5k Warnings: Implied explicit sexual content, oral implied (m. and f. receiving), possessive behavior, slight jealousy and insecurity, swearing, slight feels (it's me), sort of getting together, communication is key, Rocker!Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: Some White Wolf and Luna that no one asked for! This can also count for Week 4 of the @the-slumberparty for Across the Universe!❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Banner by the amazing @sgt-seabass and banner by the lovely @rookthorne . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

When word got around that you were seeing Bucky Barnes, some of your friends back home told you to be careful. Not because you couldn't keep up with the rockstar, but because they didn't want him to throw you out when he eventually grew bored of you. Touching as it was, it was also insulting.

"We're having fun." you said in the group chat. "Nothing wrong with that."

"But everyone wants him!" one of them replied. "What makes you different from the rest?"

What makes you special?

"Nice fucking pep talk. Really. Appreciate the vote of confidence!" you sent.

"I didn't mean it like that."

"I'm a big girl. I can handle myself."

That was the last thing you sent in the chat.

You may have given your phone the finger, too.

As if you needed another reminder that girls, and guys, lined up to get just a glimpse of the man you somehow got to call yours. Some were better looking than you and others were nicer, but you refused to let it shatter your confidence. They didn't click with Bucky the way you did. If he woke up one day and decided he didn't want you, it wouldn't be the end of your world.

You took care of yourself long before you left home and wouldn't depend on a guy for anything. That was something you made clear when you started spending more time with Bucky. At least, you told him once you could form a coherent sentence since he fucked every sane thought out of you.

"It's okay to keep wanting me, Luna."

Being addicted to him wasn't something you anticipated nor did you want to admit that he had a hold on you. If you did, he'd have the entire deck stacked in his favor. But the cocky fucker knew he had you in the palm of his hand and you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Not when you were on your knees worshipping him like the god everyone made him out to be.

You waited for Bucky after rehearsal, knowing he could do with a bit of stress relief. Steve gave you a knowing smirk as he walked by. "Hey, baby," he teased.

“Hey, blondie,” you winked back.

"Don't call my girl 'baby', punk," Bucky said as his friend laughed.

Am I your girl?

Shamelessly allowing your eyes to roam his body as he walked closer, you wondered how he even got his jeans on some days with the heat he was packing. The rest of the band nodded to you as they passed by, knowing exactly what they'd witness if they stuck around.

"I don't remember texting you," Bucky said when he stopped, running his ringed fingers through his hair. "You don't have anything better to do than wait for me?"

Asshole. You're lucky I adore you.

Your eyes narrowed as you pushed yourself off the wall. "Plenty of other things I can be doing that don't involve you."

"C'mon, baby. I'm fucking with you," he smiled as he moved to stand in front of you. "I just figured you might be hanging out with Alice and Sunshine."

"Oh, we did each other's nails and had a pillow fight. Almost fell out of my top as I jumped around," you smiled, leaning against the wall once again.

You liked Alice and Sunshine. You'd be a bitch not to and they understood things that people back home wouldn't get. Jefferson was certainly more cheerful now that he had his girl back in his life. And Hal still adored his high school sweetheart just as much as he had the day before.

What's it like for someone to be loved the way they are?

"And I missed it? That's too bad. Didn't get a facial?"

You arched an eyebrow as he moved a finger along the swell of your breast. "How could I when you weren't there to give me one?"

"I can give you one now," he smirked.

You laughed and shook your head as you tugged him closer by his t-shirt. "I don't know if I want one anymore. I could find something else to quench my thirst."

"We both know you love the taste of my cock."

"Almost as much as you love the taste of my pussy."

He placed both hands on the wall and looked into your eyes as you bit your lip. "My favorite treat. You gonna let me get my mouth on you so I can have my fill?"

"Maybe after you fuck my throat. Maybe," you said before he brought a hand to your throat. He held it there, but didn't squeeze. "So you'd rather choke me with your hand instead of your cock?"

"Luna, baby, don't tease me."

"Isn't teasing just another form of foreplay?" you asked.

The flirty, fun banter never got old with him. Even on the days you didn't have sex, you found yourself smiling at his words and antics. It made it difficult to protect your heart. But like your body, it was yours to give the person you wanted and he had the key to the lock before you knew it.

"I want to see those pretty little lips wrapped around my cock," he stated, tightening his grip when you moaned. "Want you to choke on me before I make a mess of you."

The mere suggestion was enough for your thighs to rub together, tour panties dampening more at the thought of him using your throat to get himself off and paint your face. His thick cock filled every hole of yours to the brim time and time again, reminding you that you belonged to him. But you couldn't always give in so easily. Call it pride or a power move.

You'd both get off in the end.

"Sure you don't want one of your other groupies to suck your cock?"

Everybody wants a taste.

His smirk vanished instantly as he leaned in close enough that you could feel his breath against your lips. You didn't shy away from his gaze, captivated by the blue of his eyes. He liked that you didn't try to hide.

Caught in his trap, you couldn't duck and run if you wanted to.

"I haven't fucked anyone else in weeks," his voice dropped as he shoved his knee between your thighs without warning, your core pulsing as he brushed his lips against yours. "Thought I made it clear that you're my girl."

You swallowed hard enough for Bucky to loosen his grip. If Bucky let you in, that meant something because he didn't give himself away lightly. Sex, he could find that anywhere. Someone to stick around through the highs and lows after was another story.

One you wanted to write with him.

"You never actually asked," you said above a whisper.

It was weak to say it out loud and make him put a label on it, but you wanted to hear it.

"I didn't think I had to ask," he said, kissing the spot between your eyes with a small huff. "I thought you were already mine.”

Your stomach swirled with butterflies. "I thought you were mine, too."

"Because I am. I’m all yours," he whispered, playing dirty by rocking his knee a bit more. You were tempted to slide up a bit more and ride his thigh and weep from knowing he was really yours. "C'mon. Be mine. Be my fucking girl, Luna."

You whined when he brought his lips to yours again. You would have said "yes" regardless. "I'm your girl, but don't you dare break my heart. 'Cause I'll hunt you down and make you sorry if you do. I'll curse that glorious dick of yours, too."

Bucky threw his head back and laughed. The sound brought a smile to your face. "I'd expect nothing less. You better not curse my dick or break my heart either."

His casual tone had an underlying vulnerability that you wouldn't dare joke about.

"You're my guy, Wolfy. I won't hurt you."

And I'll be your Luna no matter what.

"Don't let anyone hear you call me that," he grinned, pulling his knee away to leave you wanting more. Tease. "I have a reputation to uphold."

You smiled as the atmosphere shifted back to the sexual charge. He didn't need to dwell on the emotions for the moment and neither did you. Your heart was full and that was more than enough for today.

"Guess you better shut me up then," you suggested as you reached for his belt.

"Oh, no. Still wanna hear you moan and whine when you take me in your mouth," he stated, stepping back so you could unzip his pants and sink to your knees. "When I'm done, you're gonna sit on my face and sing for me. Those pretty sounds of yours might inspire our next song."

"Call it 'Howl at the Moon'," you smiled up at him. "Dedicate it to me," you added with a wink.

You'd find out later that Bucky already had.

Oh, these two. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[chaoticbardlady99]

She’s my Religion- Part 3: Everyone Wants to Have Their Taste (Astarion x F! Reader)

Synopsis- You and Astarion don’t see eye to eye about him ascending. Cazador kidnaps you to lure Astarion to the palace. Astarion realizes that more powerful vampires may not be capable of love.

CW: Violence, non-descriptive mentions of gore, mentions of SA, threats of SA, mentions of suicidal ideation

I feel so gross cause I made myself sob while editing this.

*picture belongs to @clowndroids

It had quite literally only been two hours since Pale Petras had kidnapped you. You were having a drink with Karlach after your fight with Astarion.

Astarion finally broke you and you gave your opinion on the Rite of Profane Ascension- he was not thrilled with your opinion to say the least.

“Astarion! I don’t even want to marry a fucking Master Vampire!” You had screamed after he had gotten pissed at you for saying you didn’t think he should ascend, “not only that- I will lose you entirely. You will no longer be anything, but fucking Mephistopheles’ vessel to what he pleases with! I can’t be with you if… if you ascend- I can’t sit back and let you torture me for eternity or watch you fade away.”

“Well-I guess we’re done then.”

You had watched him walk off miserably- your heart shattered into a million pieces. Karlach consoled you at the bar.

You should have tried to be calmer, maybe it wouldn’t have resulted in a break up.

You had begun to not feel well so you went back to your shared room with Astarion.

Astarion was out hunting so that he could be at his best for the fight with Cazador tomorrow- that gives you plenty of time to move your stuff into another room.

You are sniffling as another uncomfortable wave of nausea and exhaustion overwhelms you and then you collapse. You hear footsteps walking towards you- hoping it might be someone friendly. You thought how incredibly inconvenient timing it would be if the Cult of the Absolute was coming to kidnap you.

Except it wasn’t an Absolute Cultist or a friendly face- it had been Pale fucking Petras.

You woke up in what you assume is the Kennels- Cazador leering down at you like he’d caught you doing something you weren’t supposed to do.

Oh and you had. You had given yourself to Astarion- let yourself be “ruined.”

Every lash of the flail against your bare skin feels even more numb and painful than the last- you are barely conscious by the time Cazador decides he’s done and you are “purified”.

“What a shame- I would have liked your skin to remain porcelain and perfect before we have to consummate our marriage,” Cazador feigns sadness, “but I do suppose you have time to heal- a few hours, give or take. Dalyria- please help my beautiful, crimson colored bride clean up a little bit, leave the majority of the blood- it smells delectable.”

Cazador begins to leave and then turns around to say one last thing, “And do get her into her wedding dress. I have a homecoming to prepare for my prodigal son and I’m sure he’d love to wish us eternal happiness, my Love.”

The smile he gave you made your entire body shake with fear. He kidnapped you to force Astarion’s hand. You hope that Astarion stays out all night like he occasionally does when he hunts pissed off.

You would much rather he be prepared to fight and feel confident than rush head first into a battle because you are in danger. Or worse- maybe he wouldn’t care at all. He did break up with you.

You know the consequences if Astarion doesn’t show up quickly- Cazador is going to marry you, violate you, and then turn you into his spawn. Cazador told you that, by the time he is done completing the ritual, you should be ready to be his obedient consort.

Astarion would die knowing you were damned to an eternity of suffering at Cazador’s hands- whether he got there in time or not was inconsequential to Cazador- either would make Astarion crumble (despite telling him that he had quite literally dumped you not even an hour or two earlier).

You asked him how stupid he is considering he revealed his whole plan to you before you had even been there 30 minutes (he knows about the tadpole)- he bashed your head into the wall two times. Hard.

“Better?” He had said, roughly grabbing your hair and making you look up at him.

You listen for his footsteps and hold back the painful, strained sobs that rattle your broken rib cage. Your head is throbbing and your body is aching- every piece of skin cut up in some way or another besides your face. That needed to be “protected” according to Cazador.

You don’t remember when Dalyria gently helped you up off the ground and provided you with awkward, but soothing words. You cried as she began getting you ready for your impending doom. She washed your hair with care and despite what Cazador said, she made sure the majority of your blood was cleaned up and the wounds were safe from infection.

“He’ll get here in time,” Dalyria whispers, “Astarion won’t let this happen to you- he adores you far too much.”

“Doubtful,” You sniff, “and anyway, I don’t want him to make any rash decisions.”

“Right now, Tav?” Dalyria looks at you with sorrow, putting makeup on your cheeks “rash decisions is what is going to save you.”

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Astarion is nervous while heading back to Elfsong Tavern- he had a bear for his meal and he is eager to see you. While he was out hunting, he realized that you had a lot of very valid points. In what world could he ask you to become his thrall when Astarion knows how Spawns suffer at the hands of their master’s. The other point that stuck with him was when you said you would lose him. Astarion can acknowledge those points- he is sure he can even reassure you. Cazador never let anyone touch you nor did he ever lay a finger on you- not all Vampire Lords are evil and abusive. Astarion will be wonderful to you.

Except, when he gets to your shared room to talk- you are gone and the only evidence of you being there is a blood stain on the floor and your supplies scattered every which way.

Astarion is frozen and he runs to Karlach and Shadowheart’s room- hoping you are maybe there and just had a minor cut that needed healing. Karlach informs him you had gone back to your shared room when you stopped feeling well.

Once all the pieces were put together- everyone was sprinting out the door towards the Crimson Palace. It had been two whole hours since anyone last saw you. Astarion can’t imagine that Cazador would actually hurt you- he’s too possessive of you.

Astarion feels sick to his stomach, enraged, and terrified all at the same time.

Astarion isn’t sure he believes in any of the Gods, but he is begging to any that will listen to him that you are okay- unharmed.

************************************

Cazador holding you up by your hair, tears streaming down your face in a blood stained revealing white wedding dress is an image that will forever be burnt into Astarion’s brain. Cazador has mutilated your skin.

Astarion and your other companions had ran in right as Cazador was cutting into you again- yelling at Dalyria that she did this to you, if she had just listened and not cleaned up the blood like he had said- he wouldn’t have needed more for the dress.

When Cazador notices Astarion, he gives him a chilling grin.

“I told you that he would come for you, Pet,” Cazador cooed, a broken sob escapes your lips, “it was so cute, boy. ‘Just use me for your ritual, I’ll take his place, don’t hurt him-“

You whimper as Cazador licks the blood running from one of the cuts on your collar bones- nipping at the skin painfully. Astarion is going to rip the bastard apart, limb by limb.

“My favorite though,” Cazador maliciously states, “is when she told me how you left her and that you wouldn’t come for her. I’ve never been so thrilled to see someone so heartbroken over the life and love of a pathetic creature such as yourself. I’m not worried though,” Cazador places kisses along your neck and Astarion watches as another wave of sobs racks your body, “I’ll pleasure myself with her body until she starts screaming my name instead of yours.”

Astarion is seething as another pained scream leaves your mouth as Cazador gives you one last deep cut on your right side- dropping your weak, shaking body to the ground. The smell of your blood and fear is overwhelming.

Astarion barely remembers the battle- he remembers Wyll pulling him out of the ritual and then killing every creature that dared try to keep him from you.

Cazador is still looming over you- occasionally digging his staff into your side and Astarion gets angrier with every wheezing cry he hears. You are trying so hard to fight back- clawing, kicking, and punching. You are throwing cantrips as Cazador continues to throw you around.

Cazador goes to hit you again, but his swing is interrupted by Astarion stabbing his dagger straight through the Vampire Lord’s wrist- the staff landing with a clatter.

Astarion is all daggers and nails- his rage towards Cazador coming out in a frightening display of bloodlust. Cazador is barely visible under all the blood Astarion as drawn, but the man still teleports to his coffin.

Astarion charges towards the coffin- he’s not done yet. Astarion wants the man to suffer for everything he’s done to him, to the countless lives he forced Astarion to ruin, and you- your freedom and guaranteed safety. He’ll be killing Bridril Von next.

Astarion pushes the lid off of Cazador’s coffin.

“No, no. No healing sleep for you,” he pulls the Vampire Lord out of his coffin, “Wake up!”

Astarion flings the man with so much force he slides across the floor. Cazador gets onto his knees and looks at Astarion with pure loathing and disgust.

“Get your hands off me, worm.”

“Ha! I’m not the one in the dirt,” Astarion says with a sneer.

Astarion picks up the knife nearby and looks at Cazador, “one last thrust and I’ll be free of you. I’ll never have to fear you again.”

Astarion cocks his head to the side, “but, if I finish the ritual you started, I’ll never have to fear anyone, ever.”

“You think me a fool? That I would allow anyone to usurp me, speak the words and ascend in my place?”

Cazador cackles before continuing, “The runes I carved into your flesh bind you and all seven thousand souls to the ritual. Complete it, and all those bearing the scares will be sacrificed- you included.”

Astarion’s face contorts as Cazador smiles, “ you are simply a means to an end. I made you to be consumed.”

“I am so much more than what you made me,” Astarion retorts.

His whole body is shaking with anticipation- Astarion will finally end this man’s life. Astarion will have pow-

The pull of the Ascension is disrupted by Shadowheart screaming for Halsin to come and help- you’ve lost a lot of blood and she thinks you may be poisoned to some extent as well. You aren’t talking and you are motionless on the ground. You are looking at him though, tears rolling down your face.

Your affection for him warms his body as he enters your mind through the tadpole. You are barley conscious enough to notice the invasion of privacy.

Without the pull of the ascension, Astarion is unsure of his next move. He needs to know what to do, he doesn’t know and he needs your help.

Astarion’s body is then filled quickly with an intense suffocating grief. He is watching memories of the two of you together run through your mind as if you are having your own silent funeral for him. Astarion hasn’t seen himself in 200 years, but seeing him from your point of view- a loving, grieving point of view- takes all the wind out of his sails. Astarion is beautiful, but your affections towards him make him even more so. Together reading books, making love, joking, playing games- it’s all there in a nice warm little box that is slowly turning blue.

There is a finality in your head that eats him alive. There is acceptance and happiness for him- Gods all you have ever wanted was for him to be happy- but you are screaming and crying on the inside for your lost love. Aching and all alone- wishing Cazador would have just killed you and hoping there is a possibility they won’t be able to save you in time so you don’t have to watch him become Mephistopheles’ puppet- now or in the future.

Astarion feels tears stream down his face as your eyes begin to close. Your breathes are getting more shallow and he feels you give up- unable to continue with this life all alone. You’ve lost everyone now.

Goodbye, my Star. I should have told you I love you.

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Just us

a/n: This is purely self indulgent because I saw Matt’s story and I’m so tired I will self comfort myself with this. Enjoy!

summery: You’re living with the boys and come back home after the longest day to find Matt in the studio. Watching him work had always been your favorite way to decompress. Being friends for years means it comes with extra perks, ones that make you question if you both are just friends after all.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You were barely standing on your feet as you finally dragged yourself home. The day you had had been excruciatingly long and screw day, the past couple of weeks you had has been insane. It felt as if you had been up on your legs, doing something at every given moment. There was little sleep too and now you had reached the level of tiredness where even if you were exhausted at the end of the day you still couldn’t fall asleep.

The familiar buzzing of the house managed to pull a smile from you as you kicked off your shoes. There were perks of not living alone. Especially on these long days like this. You knew that you at least wouldn’t have to worry about feeding yourself. And some chores that you just couldn’t push yourself to do, someone else might handle. Plus, you got to come back to a place that didn’t suffocate you with loneliness. That was one of the reasons Noah had offered you a place in the house. You had been friends with them for years so you all were pretty good at reading each other without words. So when handling studies, apparent, and part-time jobs with Bad Omens got hard, they jumped in offering you a lifeline.

“Look who is back”, Jolly nodded your way with a smile. “Got you your kombucha so you can get out of my hair now”, you lowered the grocery bag onto the counter. Three sets of hands instantly move to rummage through it. “You are all toddlers”, you snorted. “You usually bring cool shit back”, Noah shrugged, turning over a yogurt box. “Yeah, snacks for my children”, you shook your head, hand running over your shoulders. “Pasta for dinner”, Jolly moved his hand to rub your back, you turned to him knowing that it was his way of asking if everything was fine. So you gave him the best smile you could master, “All in, extras cheese for all my troubles”, you bowed dramatically before moving towards the stairs.

With a deep sigh, you made your way up. Stopping to drop off your blazer and jeans in your room. Frowning slightly at the lack of hoodies in your drawers. Well, there were plenty of them just… not the ones that called your name. So with only an oversized shirt on your body, you once again ventured into the hallway. You knew that not many people understood that but the sound of heavy music blasting from the end of a hallway instantly made you feel better.

You knew that it had to be Matt there considering that you haven’t seen him downstairs. He hated being interrupted when he worked. It was called Matt Sound Kingdom for a reason. You knew that you shouldn’t bother him, especially now that they had been working so hard on creating new music and how easily an interruption could defuse inspiration, yet you still carefully pushed down onto the door handle, pushing the door ajar just slightly.

And here he sat, cap on his head. All windows shut only the mood lights he preferred on, even if you fussed about it not being good for his eyes. Leaning your head on the frame you let your gaze just linger there. You loved watching all of them fully submerged in their element but it was always something about Matt doing his thing, getting all bossy that got you the most. Some people thought he was standoffish or cold at times but you knew better. He was passionate and that sometimes came with the price.

“I made it into your daydream”, his voice startled you, making you bang your head onto the door slightly. “Jesus, Matt”, you hissed, pressing your palm onto the sore spot. “It wasn’t me snooping around”, he threw you a look before pushing his chair back slightly as he turned to you. With an eye roll, you stepped inside, closing the door behind you. Not missing the way Matt’s eyes lingered on your bare legs. His jaw flexed as he licked his lips.

“So, you haven’t seen my shirt, have you”, he mused, making you look down as well. “Well, it was out of service for you”, you shoot him an innocent smile, turning to pull a chair out for yourself. “Don’t need that, come here”, Matt patted his thigh but something about sitting down on his lap with just a shirt and thong made you halt. You two were close. Fuck that, you shared beds on multiple occasions and it was never awkward. He was a total black cat. Not too big on physical touch, only when he was overstated for it did he slip into your room for a cuddle.

“Matt”, you muttered in a warning tone. “Y/n”, he shot back instantly, “Come here, I can tell that it was a shit day”. That completely threw you for the loops and you instantly felt the burning sensation in your eyes. “It was fine”, you tried to make it sound truthful enough. But Matt just shook his head, leaning forward. One hand grabbed the back of your thigh as he pulled you closer to him. Leaving you no choice but to straddle him. Now buried deep in the crook of your neck, with his scent all over you, you couldn’t help but let out the deepest sigh. One that had been pressing on you all day long.

“That sounded rough, do you want to talk about it or nah”, Matt asked, kissing the side of your head. You simply shook your head, not mustering enough energy to give him a proper answer. “Fine, but we are talking about it at some point”, he pointed out, pulling your legs tighter around himself before scooting the chair closer to his sound tech. “You mind if I continue this for a bit?”, it was sweet that he asked, considering that you were the one interrupting him. So you shook your head again, letting the heavy sound slowly drown out all the thoughts in your head.

That’s how you both stayed. Completely losing sense of time. With you lazily twirling the ends of his hair while he worked. And Matt whose hand slipped up and down your thighs, as he nodded along to the sound. Or drumming his fingers over your lower back as he searched for the right beat. You pulled back slightly after a while, wanting that up-close privilege of watching him once again.

“What?”, he muttered, catching your gaze. You just smiled at him, “I love seeing you like this”, you mussed, reaching to put his cap backward, so it wasn’t so much over his face. “Like what?”, his fingers reached out to carefully brush away the loose strands of hair away from your eyes. “Just being you”, you shrugged, “I know not many people step their foot here. I know I have a free pass”. Matt chuckled slightly, “Who told you that?”, “This guy called Matt, he’s really sweet”, you narrowed your eyes at him.

“Is that so, you like him?”, your heart skipped a beat because you doubted that he knew just how much you liked him. “Yeah, I do”, you muttered, watching him watch you. “He likes you too”, Matt hummed. “How would you know?”, you shook your head. “He told me too, we had a conversation about you”, his eyes slowly crept onto your lips before he pulled his gaze back up to meet your eyes.

“Matt”, you muttered, you two had tiptoed the line multiple times. But both of you had always put the band first. You knew that the rest of the boys wouldn’t mind but work and love in one mix nearly always ended in tragedy. “Can I do something stupid?”, he asked, fingers slipping to hold onto your hips, slowly reaching beneath the hem of your shirt. “Not if I do it first”, you breathed, cupping the back of his neck as you leaned forward, brushing your lips over his. He chased the kiss almost instantly, pushing deeper into you. It was equally slow and passionate as it was messy. You felt a shiver run down your back as the realization slowly hit you, making you pull back.

“Shit, sorry”, you grunted, trying to wriggle out of his hands only to have him firmly holding you down. “And where do you think you’re running now?”, Matt mussed, licking his lips. “Don’t do that”, you huffed, pushing his face further away from you. “Do what?”, he churched, “Look so fucking kissable”, you whined, making Matt let out a full deep laugh. “I’ve been dreaming about kissing you ever since that New Year’s kiss”, he admitted, making your shoulders droop slightly, “No, you have not”.

He shot you a look, “Love, I practically sleep in your bed every night after that, how else do you want me to show it to you”, while that was true you never took it as a sign of anything more than him wanting a cuddle. “Start by taking me on a date”, you pointed at his chest. “That can be arranged”, Matt mussed, leaning in to kiss your lips once more. “And others?”, you pulled back watching him. “Considering that you are here in my shirt with only a thong…”, he stared but you quickly hit his chest playfully, “They already know, I think we were the last ones to catch up. We don’t have to tell anyone anything, though”, he reassured you, hosing you high onto his thighs. “Just us”, you muttered. “That’s all that matters for now, baby - just us”, Matt kissed your temple before reaching to pull your head back, a smirk forming onto his face as his lips met your neck.

[lastoneout]

Okay, honest question, who is Yotsuba?

OH HO HO ANON I AM ALL TOO HAPPY TO EXPLAIN :3

Yotsuba is a character from the greatest manga ever made, Yotsuba&!(or Yotsuba to! it translates weird, most fans just call it Yotsuba) which is a comedy slice-of-life manga about Yotsuba Koiwai, a five year old girl, and her very strange yet wholesome family and friends!

It's from the same mangaka who gave us Azumanga Daioh, though while that manga is told in a four-panel comic style and doesn't really have much of an overarching plot, Youtsuba is done in a traditional manga style and despite also being very episodic there is a bit of a throughline surrounding Youtsuba getting settled into the neighborhood she just moved to, growing up, and eventually, in the later chapters, getting ready to go to school for the first time. Also, there are storylines that take place over multiple chapters as well! Despite the fact that the manga has been releasing since 2003, the chapters are pretty sporadic and the comic has only really covered about one year of the character's lives, but it never really feels slow or aimless. It feels almost...timeless? I guess. It's really nice.

Anyway, the manga is legit one of the most wholesome, funny, heartwarming things I have ever read. Kiyohiko Azuma is a fucking MASTER of comedy(you may have seen screencaps from a Sailor Moon fan comic he made going around on tumblr in which Jupiter accidentally sends Venus shooting across a pool that made me laugh so hard I cried) and he balances it well with lots of slow moments with GORGEOUS artwork where you can really take in the scenery and all of it is seeped in a wonderful nostalgia for childhood that legit makes me super emotional.

I don't think the manga has ever really taken off in terms of popularity, at least not to the degree that it deserves imo, which is likely in part due to the creator being firm about it never getting an anime adaptation and the sporadic release schedule, but it's far from unknown. There's been an official(I think??) score released and plenty of figurines and merch. It's also birthed a lot of memes, and it def has the same issue as One Piece where if you read it and love it you will turn into a walking billboard and try to drag your friends and family in with you. It's just THAT good!

You may have seen art of or people cosplaying Danbo, a "robot" made of old cardboard boxes that Yotsuba adores (Totally a real robot btw, def doesn't have a middle schooler shoved inside there, that would be silly wdym /s)

And this pose from the back of one of the manga volumes featuring Yotsuba, her father, and their extremely tall friend Jumbo has been redrawn with other characters like 500000 billion times

And you've also probably seen this going around tumblr before (that's Fūka she's my favorite cringe fail daughter I would literally die for her).

Also, I would be doing a disservice if I didn't mention Yanda, who is a friend of Yotsuba's dad and also Yotsuba's nemesis. He's a loser who constantly gets dunked on by a toddler it's fucking hilarious.

But yeah it really is just like, a manga that feels like a hug, or a warm blanket or something, it's so comforting and funny and fantastic, I find myself re-reading it any time life gets to be too hard just bcs it's that good at distracting me and reminding me that live is worth living.

And also given that it's literally my favorite manga, I saved up a bunch of screencaps to use as reaction images after a read one time, and thus now it's my own little joke that if you send me anon hate I'm just gonna send you back a picture of this cutie

Bcs come on how can you be angry when you're looking at this???

Anyway here's some screencaps of the main supporting cast bcs I love all of them so much <3

YOU WILL READ YOTSUBA I AM NO LONGER ASKING

[skell3]

Mage's Ball

Just a little blurb I did for @occudo 's fantasy AU thing. My writing isn't like... flowery or anything, but it at least put down the start of a brainworm THIS comic gave me. There's more to it but like. I'm really bad at being able to continue/finish fics (I do better at RP) so this is what you get.

It was the middle of the ball, and Tim had been left on his own. By choice, mind you, but he still wasn’t particularly happy about it. Sir Timothy Stoker, knight to Mage Sasha James, had come along to keep an eye on his charge and perhaps… well. He didn’t entirely know what he was expecting, but it wasn’t this. Sasha focused on… Jonathan Sims and his knight, Martin Blackwood. Focused, and chatting so animated about their latest trials and tribulations in the aftermath of the Prentiss incident. Tim was not pleased, and therefore he was incredibly distracted. 

“A knight without his mage- that’s a rare sight. Did they abandon you?” A deep, smooth voice croons in on the knight from nearby.

“My lady can chat without my help.” Tim turns to see who was addressing him, only to find another Mage. “I don’t see a knight by your side either, Lord-” “Delano.” Gerry removed the sheer fabric that had been covering his head to better view this pouting guardian. 

Standing at attention, Tim reached for the mage’s hand to draw the back of it to his lips in greeting. “Sir Stoker. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” His eyes fell to the fabric at the mage’s waist, only for his eyes to be guided up to the bared skin of his chest. Lord Delano had a considerable amount of tattoos; eyes decorated his skin all the way up to the collar at his throat. 

“Likewise,” Gerry responds, smiling at the display. His eyes traced over the knight for possibly the sixth time this evening, having noticed him earlier in the evening. “I never felt the need to employ a bodyguard for myself- way too much work if you ask me.” Pale gaze lifting, it seems like his interest has yet to bring his eyes back up from his chest, and he sighs in amusement. “Also- my eyes are up here, Sir Stoker.”

“With all due respect, they are also down there, my lord.” Tim couldn’t help but find himself mesmerized by them, among… other things. This was a fancy ball and somehow Lord Delano managed to get away with having so much skin exposed. It was daring, it showed off his nature as a Seer Mage, and it was… well. Distracting. Very distracting. Finally, he manages to tear his eyes away from ink and look back up to the other man with a flush across his cheeks. “I think you’re the only one who got away with going casual,” he jokes with a smile. 

“Casual?” The response comes with laughter, Gerry lifting a hand to cover his smile briefly as he turns to glance around the room. He notices Stoker doing the same, and together they take in all the grandeur of the Winter Mage’s Ball. “That would mean some of those here are a bit over-dressed, wouldn’t you think?” The knight’s own lady was in quite a gown, and he watches with a smile as she laughs and converses with her two current companions. He catches the eye of the shorter mage over there, and enjoys the rather disgruntled look he gets out of it. “Want to get away from here for a little bit?” Tim had been distracted again, both to try and not openly ogle at Lord Delano again, but also because those three looked like they were having quite a good time. Over-dressed? His gaze manages to move away to fluffy dresses and gents looking so prim and proper. Plenty to look at, nothing to see. Hearing the laughter, he looked back at the trio just about when Gerry spoke up again. “E-Excuse me?!” Tim sputters, turning to stare at the taller man. Gerry offers him a smile, and then a hand. “My rented quarters aren’t too far, and it looks like she’s well entertained. There are guards posted everywhere and the room is full of mages. I think she is quite safe, and I’ll admit you have me feeling a little under-dressed.” Tim’s eyes are roaming again, but fortunately it was more than just at his chest. He watches the man sputter again, trying to find words for what he wanted, only to get a- “...give me a second, please. If you would?” Tim has to check in at least once, and that was probably the quickest shuffle he has made to Sasha’s side outside of danger. A quick conversation, with no small amount of glaring from Lord Sims, and Lord Delano gets gestured to. More conversation happens, and Lady James nods her head and offers the other Seer Mage a polite bow before returning to her conversation. Tim returned to Gerry’s side shortly after, offering him a bow of his own. “My services are yours for the evening, My Lord.”

“Well. I’m going to have to get you to say that a few more times while I have you, then,” Gerry muses. He beckons for Stoker to follow, turning to head for the exit doors that would lead them outside. “Come along, then, Sir Stoker.”

[dmercer91]

helpless, hopeless. me94

in which he is helpless in school and hopelessly in love. (18+!!)

i think i just gave myself a crush

“could we try a reward system or something? i can’t help that i’m not motivated when the material is this” you rolled your eyes to yourself at his words, tapping your pen on the textbook in your lap out of frustration

mark was unteachable. you were sure he knew what ambition felt like, you were sure deep down he cared about academics to an extent, because you don’t commit to umich sports without at least some drive, right?

frustration got the better of you, and your tone indicated that well with your response. “what, do you want me to throw bacon at you? the reward is passing the class, mark,”

he glared at you, his jaw ticking slightly because of the attitude you’d given him. you were both starting to think your prof was some sort of comedian for pairing the two of you up for tutoring

“i meant something i want, not something i need, but thank you for your kind suggestion, i’ll be sure to keep bacon in mind when you’re throwing questions at me” you slammed the book on your lap shut, gesturing for him to tell you his great idea for how you should motivate him to study

“go ahead, then,”

his demeanour changed, his pupils dilated, and his tongue quickly poked out to lick his lips before he shrugged.

“well, i saw-“ his body language had given you plenty of context regarding what he was about to say, and you didn’t need to hear it.

“are you out of your fucking mind? you’re lucky if it’s a hundred degrees in here and i even consider taking off my hoodie,” you shut him down before the thought could even reach his lips.

“come on, you need the extra credit. i’ll do it too, if i get one wrong, or something,” you shook your head, lips parted in exasperation.

if you didn’t think it’d get to his already big head, you’d laugh like he was telling a hilarious joke

“i need the extra credit, not the extracurriculars. i also have zero interest in seeing you without a shirt on,” he grinned for a split second, hiding it by hanging his head until he could fight it off.

“if you want my opinion, the extracurriculars might help you calm the fuck down. but sure, you don’t need it,” you sucked your teeth, not even bothering to respond to him as you stuffed your things back into your backpack and moved off his bed.

“hey, wait, i was just being a dick, y/n,” he reached his arm to grab your wrist, but you moved away, and his hand landed square on your thigh. you could see the gears turning in his head before he used the leverage to tug you back towards him.

“it seems like dick is almost your default. let me go, there are plenty of pretty boy assholes for me to tutor for my extra credit. a few in this house, actually. but nobody in their right mind is agreeing to strip if it means you’ll pay attention to them” he raised an eyebrow, disagreeing with your last remark.

“and what if i don’t want any other mean tutors to strip for me?” your cheeks went hot but you blatantly ignored the feeling, refusing to look down at him cause you knew what was waiting for you if you did.

his hands were already smoothing up and down your hips, and when you refused to look at him he stood, pressing his chest to yours.

your chin ended up just by his collar bone, and he looked down at you, a soft pout showing in his eyes but not his lips.

“this isn’t cute.” you deadpanned, causing him to smirk, tilting his head.

“no?” you shook your head, mimicking his no, but definitively rather than questioningly.

“is it convincing, at least?” he asked, a small smile playing at his lips.

you sighed in response, taking the flash cards from your front bag pouch and throwing the rest of the bag on the floor.

you both sat back down on his bed, and you glumly asked the first question on the card. he got it wrong, and eyed you til you moved to the next card.

you were half expecting him to take his sweater off, but he hadn’t.

he looked bored right out of his mind, and the way he answered showed that he was still wildly disinterested in the topic.

he wouldn’t ponder, just immediately said the first thing that came to mind so he could move on.

the next question, you knew he had the answer to. when he got it right, you paused.

he raised an eyebrow, giving you a look of annoyance when you took so long to flip to the next question.

he quickly lost the attitude when you pulled your sweater over your head and refused to meet his eyes, just moved on to the next question quietly.

he took longer to think about it this time, eventually coming up with the right answer. you look your shirt off, leaving you in your bra.

you looked up at him for a quick second to see his cheeks bright red and his lips parted, his lashes fluttering as he blinked repeatedly.

he hardly heard the next question, and stumbled until he got it wrong. you looked at him expectantly, then looked away, trying not to look back at him while he cleared his throat and pulled off his sweater

he hadn’t been wearing a shirt underneath, so you were met with his bare chest when you did muster up the courage to look in his direction.

he got the next question right, and you gave yourself a moment before you raised your hips and discarded your pants. he was staring at you, gaze soft but almost overwhelming as it took you in.

he got the next question right as well, but you didn’t budge, just gave him a small shake of your head.

“something else, then. yeah? maybe come sit in my lap,” you nodded reluctantly, taking your new place on his thigh, your side to his chest.

you ignored the bulge in his sweatpants to the best of your ability, and then he got the next question wrong, so the only barrier between the two of you was your respective underwear

you ignored the way he twitched when you moved even slightly, and you definitely ignored the way he was throbbing, too focused on the same sensation coming from your own core.

“what now?” you asked, voice meek and quiet as you looked down at him.

“i have some ideas im not sure you would approve of” he grinned, and you rolled your eyes in response, cheeks getting warm for what felt like the millionth time that night. this time, though, the rest of your skin felt a similar scorching feeling under his eyes.

“like what?” he licked his lips at that, taking the cards from your hand and setting them aside.

he kissed your lips once, but wasted no time in moving to your jaw, down your neck and to the tops of your boobs.

you let him take his time there, liking the sensation of him nipping gently at the sensitive skin, but eventually you pulled his face back so you could kiss him properly again.

you revelled in the feeling of his smile against your lips, and were quick to part your lips when his tongue slid against your lower one.

you felt his hands pull at your waist, and you let him move you, eyebrows furrowing when he set you so his thigh was slotted between your own.

his thigh jerked when you took it upon yourself to roll your hips, the sudden movement pulling a whine from your lips.

“god you’re so beautiful, baby” he mumbled, placing his hands on your thighs and rubbing slow circles with his thumb.

you buried your hands in his hair, pulling at it whenever his thigh twitched or whenever his hands would inch further up

the rhythm of your hips was steady against him and his kisses were like a drug.

eventually, he worked his kisses to your chest again, and his hands came up to gently swipe along the clasp of your bra, looking up at you as if you ask permission to take it off

his lips were swollen and red, he was panting and all you could focus on was the sweet, begging look in his eyes as you nodded, mumbling your consent.

his right hand moved to pinch at your left nipple, the sensitive skin hardening under his oddly gentle touch, while his lips closed around the other, almost hesitantly

you sucked in a breath, eyes fluttering shut in time for his left hand to move down to your core and rub sweet, soft circles on your clit through the fabric of your panties

“s’ okay?” he asked, out of breath and almost immediately returning his attention to your boob while halting his left hand to wait for your response

“yeah- yeah, s’ okay,” you whimpered, basking in all the stimulation he was providing you.

you were still gently rolling your hips, and his fingers worked in unison with that, so you were already inching closer and closer to your orgasm

you wanted to hide away in him, and though merely twenty minutes ago the idea (and reality) of being with him in an enclosed space seemed awful, he was doing well at making you feel the opposite. you wanted to be as close as possible

he took his time, eyes closed peacefully as he brought you to the edge, and eventually over it.

it was ridiculously powerful, especially for how gentle he’d been, and you bit your lip so hard you swore you tasted blood just to keep in your moans.

he brought his lips back up to your own again, hands cradling your jaw and the back of your head while he eased you onto your back, underneath him.

you pulled away from him, looking up into his eyes with an expression you couldn’t explain. he responded with a soft smile, kissing you on the head reassuringly before trailing down your jaw and focusing on your neck

his hands, now gliding along your waist, were warm and the sensation made you feel fuzzy.

“so gentle,” you stated, words coming out as a half confused whisper. his lips formed a smile against your collarbone and he pulled back a few inches, glancing up at you for a quick second

“i can be,” was his response. you blinked, taking his hands in your own and moving them to your hips, his thumb conveniently nudging at the waistband of your underwear

he moved back up so your heads were level, licking his lips before looking down by your core, then back up at you.

“i like it,” you replied, delayed but still appreciated. he tried his best not to grin like a fool, his heart feeling full in his chest

you didn’t miss the way the corners of his lips curled up, but he immediately shot them down, keeping his composure

he slid two fingers from each hand into your panties, a questioning look in his eyes and his head tilting slightly. you took a deep breath, breaking eye contact to recuperate before nodding and raising your hips, bringing your eyes back to his.

he tugged them down slowly, giving you a reassuring look before ultimately moving his eyes to where his hands were, breath caught in his throat.

a choked whine came from your throat as the cold air touched newly bare skin, and mark finally let his breath go, shakily.

“oh, baby,” he murmured, eyes somehow becoming darker but softer at the same time

your folds were glistening with both your first release and your arousal, and every touch from his fingers, even featherlight, had you twitching

you took the time he used to work his boxers off and grab protection from his night stand to catch your breath, and let it sink in

everything, how sweet he was being, how well he stimulated you, how satisfying the orgasm was, how had you been asked just yesterday, you’d have said with full confidence he’d probably never made a girl come before

maybe you underestimated his game, or maybe he just cared about you

either way, your heart fluttered involuntarily when he grabbed your hand, interlocked your fingers and rubbed soothing circles along your knuckles while he waited to push into you

when he did, you couldn’t help the surprised noise that came from your lips. not because he hadn’t warned you, but because of the stretch

he took his time, not letting go of your hand, not changing up his pace.

he looked over at you after finally opening his eyes, originally having closed them when he’d bottomed out, to see you already looking at him, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

your eyes were filled with a look of what he placed as uncertainty, and he smiled, using the hand not holding yours to push your hair back out of your face sweetly, hoping it would reassure you

you just blinked, lips parting in realization; mark truly liked you

you used your free hand to cup the back of his head, connecting your lips once again. he felt all of the previous pressure lift from his shoulders, hips pressing taught against yours and staying there for a moment before he resumed thrusting

you moaned into his mouth, and he hummed in return.

he pulled his lips away from yours, pressing your foreheads together while he gave you one last thrust, the two of you toppling harshly over the edge simultaneously

he hissed, trying to work you through your orgasm while not overstimulating himself, and it was all perfect.

your quiet huffs, struggled moans while you tried to keep quiet for his housemates’ sake, were perfect. the way your thighs twitched was perfect, and the way you hugged onto him when he collapsed onto you was perfect.

he pulled out of you, rolling over and throwing out the condom. you immediately turned onto your side, cuddling into his chest and holding onto him tight.

“y/n?” you hummed, eyes already closed and legs tangling into his

“that wasn’t just, like, a heat of the moment thing, i really- i really, really like you, y/n” you could hear his heart pounding and feel his skin go hot under yours, and you smiled.

you pressed your hand to his chest, feeling his heart slow down significantly under the contact

“are you asking me out, estapa?” you mumbled, earning a chuckle and a sweet kiss on the lips

“if that’s okay with you,” he answered, and you grinned sleepily

“more than okay”

[evdarlin]

School Kid Crush

*A/N okay so this is the first thing I've wrote since I was like 18 writing about one direction so I'm sorry if its complete dog shit. I tried and kinda want to make it a series maybe if people actually like it but yeah be easy on me pls*

From the moment that I met Spencer Agnew on my very first day at Smosh as the new Games PA, we instantly clicked. We would spend every lunch together quoting obscure movies or Family Guy. We hung out at each other’s apartments many weekends, me just watching him play video games or forcing him to watch Bridgerton with me. There was something there and I think we all could feel it. Spencer was always the one I could go to geek out about the things I always thought I was being annoying talking about. It was almost like I had met my other half which could only be explained as the most terrifying but best feeling in the world. The whole office knew that there was something there but I might be speaking for myself but I did not want to act on it solely from my own relationship problems and that we were coworkers and did not want to make things so complicated. So for now, we are just good good friends who might just be completely infatuated with each other.

Walking into the Smosh office on Friday morning felt like every other morning on the last day of the week. I didn’t get enough sleep and would rather have been curled up back in my bed asleep but someone has to pay rent. Once I arrived at my desk directly across from Courtney’s, I could see that some sweet angel had placed my dear alani drink right in front of my computer. There was only one person who could have brought that for me and I knew it was Spencer so I took off to the Games pod to thank him dearly. 

“Have I ever told you that you are a godsend and have saved my life on multiple occasions?” I say while walking up to Spencer’s desk.

“Well yes but have I ever told you that you are severely overdramatic with your words?” He said as he swiveled around in his chair.

“Alright that’s rude but I’ll let it slide since you brought me a drink sir.” I rolled my eyes and took a seat on the little couch in the small space. The office was pretty quiet this morning which is unusual but I welcomed it. “How long do you think it’s going to take before someone is yelling in here?”

“I say give it about ten minutes when Angela comes in and sees that she has to take care of that baby today” Spencer laughed and almost on cue heard Chanse cackling at Angela.

“Are you going to Courtney and Shayne’s combined bachelor party tonight?” Spencer suddenly looked nervous asking this question which is new for him around me that is.

“Yeah, I was going to head home after work to change then head over to the place, are you going?” I asked, praying and hoping he was going not wanting to miss a chance to hang out with him outside of these four walls of the Smosh office. 

“Well seeing as you just said you were going then absolutely I am. Um, can I pick you up and drive you to the party maybe?” There it was again, the nervous look on his face. 

“Of course!” I said maybe a little too fast and too enthusiastic, “I mean yeah that would be okay, that way I could have at least one or two drinks while I’m there.” I did not recover from that at all but maybe he won’t notice but seeing that smirk on his face, I am wrong.

“Then I will be there to pick you up at 7:30ish, does that sound okay?” Spencer asked, seeming to be a lot more relaxed now that I said yes.

“Sure! That gives me plenty of time, see you later Spen!” I gave him a small wave and walked back to my desk to get started on my small list of tasks I mentally gave myself to get done before filming started and I had zero free time until 5 p.m. As I walked back to my desk I was brought back to how nervous Spencer was asking me if he could drive me to the party. I mean we carpool sometimes to work and even ride together to function outside of the workplace so this shouldn’t be any different right? Oh god, is this a date? Does he know it’s a date? It can’t be a date when it’s Courtney and Shayne’s day right? I’m spiraling and don’t even notice that I ran right into Tommy.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry I wasn’t paying attention at all!” I stopped to make sure I didn’t cause some huge mess by running into him.

“It’s okay Y/N! You were really deep into thought there love, you doing okay?” Tommy asked with concern written all over his face, I suppose you can tell I was going through it up in my head.

“Uh well not really but I’ll be okay.” We both started walking towards our desks, I hoped to change the subject so I no longer had to think about what’s going on inside my head but Tommy had other ideas.

“Is it Spencer? I can totally fight him if you need me to or I can hide his Kickstarters until he apologizes to you.” Tommy giggled but stopped as soon as he saw how deep red my face had become.

“Wha- How did you know?” You mean to tell me the rest of the office knew how I truly felt about Spencer, shit.

“Oh honey, the man is completely infatuated with you and I also know you’re infatuated with him. I truly thought you guys were already together and just keeping it a secret for personal reasons. You know it’s okay to like him right? I know about the whole relationship problems you’ve had in the past but I don’t think Spencer is like that actually I know he’s not.” Tommy stopped walking to put his hand on my shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.

“Nope, nope, nope. You’re wrong, I know of no such infatuation you speak of Tommy Bowe.” I avoided eye contact the entire time but eventually sighed, “Is it that obvious?”

“Eh, kind of but hey it’s okay to like someone even if you guys work together. You guys have been attached at the hip ever since you started here and I think you might be the same person. I do not think he’s going to ghost you like every other piece of shit man who has entered your life.” Tommy knew more than maybe anyone about how much self doubt I have put on myself from constantly just men stopping talking to me out of nowhere. It didn’t matter if he said he was different, none of them were. They all were the same.

“I know he is a good person Tommy but I’m not sure I could deal with losing him as a friend and even worse I would have to see him every single day at work. I promise I’m just in my head a little bit, I’ll be okay.” I gave my most convincing smile and headed to my computer to start on my work for the day.

The work day honestly flew by without any more emotional spirals even at lunch when I could see Tommy giving me those knowing looks from across the table anytime Spencer did anything remotely nice for me. I left the office the minute it hit 5 p.m. just wanting to get out of there, I didn’t even wait for Spencer to walk with him in the parking lot. I needed to get to the comfort of my apartment and be alone before I had a full blown panic attack, not to mention I needed to get ready for this party. I made it home in record time with just enough time to get ready and sit in silence and think about what I should do. I decided to say screw it and just bring up my conversation with Tommy and see what happens. Do I know what’s going to happen? Not at all but you know what I need to do something to stop this spiral. I grabbed my bag and headed out the door was I saw that Spencer said he was outside. Spencer was waiting outside his car for me and even opened the door for me, what a gentleman. 

“You were nowhere to be found after work dude, where the hell did you go?” Spencer asked, closing the door as I settled into the front seat.

“Sorry, I started feeling bad so I had to get out of there. Hope you didn’t get attacked in the parking lot without your guard dog.” I laughed as he started his car and headed towards the place where the party was being held.

“You are literally shorter than me which is saying a lot but I was a damsel in distress and you just left me alone to die.” Spencer pretended to wipe a fake tear and looked over at me giggling. “But were you okay? Like nothing happened right?”

“Yeah I was fine, Tommy just got me thinking and I just got a little overwhelmed but promise I am perfectly fine now!” I smiled and let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding in. “It um actually was about you if I’m being honest?” 

“Me? I swear whatever it was I didn’t do it.” Spencer threw his hands up but I grabbed the wheel and gave him a glare.

“He did say that if you hurt my feelings he was going to hide your drinks until you apologize to me,” I looked over at him preparing myself for what I was going to say next, “He also said he thought we were together and were pulling a Courtney and Shayne”. 

“Hm, Tommy thinks we’re famous enough to hide our relationship like that? Wow, I am flattered.” Spencer laughed looking over at me then stopped because he realized this might be a serious conversation. “Wait, being in a relationship with me sounds so terrifying to you that you had to book it out of the office?” I looked over and saw that we had already arrived at the place but I knew our conversation was not going to end just because we were here.

“No! I just got in my head and was so scared that if you knew that I had this massive ass school kid crush on you, it would ruin this friendship we have built. I have no clue what I would do if you were not in my life, Spencer, honestly.” I realized I have just told him about this crush I have on him with my word vomit so there was no turning back now. “I like you alright, I like you a lot and it’s so damn scary because I’m terrified to lose you in any sense of my life.”

“A massive crush you say?” Spencer started giggling and all I could do was glare at him ready to smack that smirk off his face. “I like you too dummy, I thought you knew already and just saw me as your dorky coworker who also is your best friend. I promise you’re not losing me anytime soon. You’re stuck with me now babe.” He smiled and leaned over to give me a soft kiss. A kiss that I think I have been waiting for what felt like years, a kiss that seemed to let go over all of my insecurities and finally felt safe and confident in a relationship. “Now, let’s go into this party and steal Courtney and Shayne’s thunder.”

We started to walk to the door of the place, hand in hand, and ready to face all of our coworkers. The only thing you can hear as soon as we walked into the room was a far away “FUCK YEAH” which I can only place as Angela screaming.

[thegreenthepeacetheorange]

The development of Peeta as "the boy with the bread"

The fact that for Katniss, Peeta is the "boy with the bread" who she associates with dandelions, life and hope, speaks volumes to how her relationship with him goes beyond simple understandings of love and companionship.

To this day, I can never shake the connection between this boy, Peeta Mellark, and the bread that gave me hope, and the dandelion that reminded me that I was not doomed. 

The mayor finishes the dreary Treaty of Treason and motions for Peeta and me to shake hands. His are as solid and warm as those loaves of bread. 

And apparently, I have not been as oblivious to him as I imagined, either. The flour. The wrestling. I have kept track of the boy with the bread. 

I fumble. I’m not as smooth with words as Peeta. And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. And it’s not about the sponsors. And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread. 

The sun eventually rises, its light slipping through the cracks and illuminating Peeta’s face. Who will he transform into if we make it home? This perplexing, good-natured boy who can spin out lies so convincingly the whole of Panem believes him to be hopelessly in love with me, and I’ll admit it, there are moments when he makes me believe it myself? At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. Anything beyond that though . . . and I feel Gale’s gray eyes watching me watching Peeta, all the way from District 12. 

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Peeta extend his hand. I look at him, unsure. “One more time? For the audience?” he says. His voice isn’t angry. It’s hollow, which is worse. Already the boy with the bread is slipping away from me.  I take his hand, holding on tightly, preparing for the cameras, and dreading the moment when I will finally have to let go. 

Sometimes when I'm alone, I take the pearl from where it lives in my pocket and try to remember the boy with the bread, the strong arms that warded off nightmares on the train, the kisses in the arena. To make myself put a name to the thing I've lost.

I consider saying a final good-bye to Peeta, decide it would only be bad for both of us. But I do slip the pearl into the pocket of my uniform. A token of the boy with the bread.

Peeta and I grow back together. There are still moments when he clutches the back of a chair and hangs on until the flashbacks are over. I wake screaming from nightmares of mutts and lost children. But his arms are there to comfort me. And eventually his lips. On the night I feel that thing again, the hunger that overtook me on the beach, I know this would have happened anyway. That what I need to survive is not Gale's fire, kindled with rage and hatred. I have plenty of fire myself. What I need is the dandelion in the spring. The bright yellow that means rebirth instead of destruction. The promise that life can go on, no matter how bad our losses. That it can be good again. And only Peeta can give me that. So after, when he whispers, "You love me. Real or not real?" I tell him, "Real."

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Hiya Sugar,

You’re the newest goodey-goodey in town, aren’t ya? What am I sayin’, of course ya are! I already knew that! In fact I know a lot about’cha, you’d be real surprised.

At first, I didn’t think too much about there being another vigilante running amuck. To me it was the usual same ol’, same ol’ in Gotham. It wasn’t until we had our very first run in that had me wanting to take a real good look into ya. I had been with my former crappy Puddin’ at the time and we were planning to cause some havoc for B-man, but you showed up first. That didn’t stop us from causin’ you some trouble too but you were really somethin’. A good kinda somethin’! You surpassed both mine and my ex-Puddin’s expectations by a long shot, putting us in our place real quick before B-man even made an appearance. But when he did finally roll around, my shitty ex had the audacity to use me as a distraction so he could getaway, puttin’ me in peril.

I’ll be honest I was worried there for a bit. Sure I was all laughs about it until it set in that my Puddin wasn’t gonna save me then the panic came. I mean hanging off a 70 story building by the tippy tips of ya fingers will do that to ya, ya’know? (To be honest, I don’t even know if it really was 70 stories but it sure as hell felt like it.) But then the most marvelous thing happened! My grip gave way and I was startin’ to fall only for an arm to shoot out and catch me!

Now, I was fully expecting B-man or one of his little birdies being the one who got to me but imagine my surprise when I was met with a new face. A really nice lookin’ face too! (At least from what I could tell.) Your grip on me was real strong and firm but it felt gentle all the same. Ya pulled me up and looked me all over for any serious damage, askin’ if I was alright. You didn’t manhandle or be too rough with me whatsoever. In fact you were real gingerly in checking me over. You also weren’t yellin’ or shoutin’ at me either, instead you were speaking slow and soft to me. I remember your voice bein’ real nice to listen to too. In that moment I realized you truly were somethin’ different, a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the heroes coming out of the woodworks in Gotham.

You were just so nice to me, even though we tried to kill ya and cause some psychological damage along the way (sort bout that by the way😅), but you were still worried about little ol’ me. I don’t even think B-man has ever been really genuinely concerned about my well-being before, at least not like you were, when my Puddin’s used me like a meat shield. If it weren’t for his no killing hangup he probably would have let me die plenty of times before. But you actually cared! I don’t know what exactly it was but somethin’ about ya that night made me feel all tingly and warm inside and I liked it. Then the next thing I knew you were gone chasing after B-man and my ex-Puddin’ leavin’ me feelin’ cold and alone. Ever since then I’ve been keepin’ a close eye on ya. Hell, I even dumped my Puddin’ right after that incident. Ya should have seen his face, thinkin’ I wasn’t serious only for him to come mopin’ around wantin’ me back. But I stood my ground. Besides, I already had my eye on somethin’ better. Or rather someone better.

Like I said before, I’ve been keepin’ my eye on ya since then and I’m so glad I did. Sure some people would call it “stalking” but I prefer to call it “closely admiring from a reasonable and legal distance”. Except those few times I did let myself into your place and took a peek around. I didn’t take anything though, at least nothing you’d notice but that’s not what’s important. What is important though is how much you’ve opened my eyes to new horizons beyond just stupid ol’ Joker and everything that has to do with him. I still do the odd crime here and there but they’re no way near the same extremes like they used to be. I only really do somethin’ bad when I know you’re on patrol and will for sure be the one to stop my shenanigans. Honestly, I just want the chance to see and talk to ya again. Don’t even get me started about all the times when I have caused mischief only for B-man or one of his birdies to be the one to show up instead of you. I’ve never felt so disappointed and upset before. All that time and effort only for some other big baddie or even a small petty criminal to take up your attention away from me. It really gets under my skin. Would I say I’m jealous though? Not really. Okay maybe a little but can ya blame me? After all this time I finally have somethin’ good in my life that’s gettin’ me to change perspective only to have to share it with others who have no intention on changin’ for anybody! They’re a waste of your time but I get that you gotta stick to your goodey-goodey schtick, that’s who ya are after all. But still it gets me feelin’ some type of way, and not in a good way either.

I can’t help that you’ve become something so prominent to me in such a short amount of time, although I know ya don’t know just how much ya truly mean to me. I’ve even started focusing on doing more good than bad, little by little ya’ know? Baby steps. You’re a good part of why I started leaning more towards being good but it was also due to another incident I got in. I won’t go into it but let’s just say it involved a lower criminal who just wouldn’t stop runnin’ his mouth about ya and I wasn’t havin’ any of it. I admit I may have gone a little overboard with getting my a point across but he deserved it. He had no right talkin’ about ya like that! Sure, he’ll probably never wake up from his coma and is in a permanent vegetative state but you can’t say he isn’t technically still alive. So at least I didn’t kill him kill him, right? Hey, what can I say this goodey stuff is still pretty new to me. At least I’m tryin’ my best. There was also some other stuff involved besides him bad mouthin’ ya but I can’t for the life of me remember what it was but I’m sure it also was well deserving of an ass kickin’.

Oh goodness gracious, look at me ramblin’ away as usual! Ya got that kind of affect on me, ya’know? But anyhoo, I should really end this letter before I start spillin’ all my beans. I need to keep some secrets to myself after all. But maybe I’ll get around to tellin’ ya those ones too when we’re much more acquainted. But don’t worry ya little ol’ head though, sugar, everythin’ will come to fruition in due time and the two of us will be together! I just gotta get a few of my duckies in a row before we take the plunge but it’ll all be worth it in the end and you’ll finally be all mine!

See ya soon, sugar! Don’t miss me too much though~ Before ya know it we’ll be makin’ up for all our lost time and really gettin’ to know each other! But until then I’ll leave ya with this and a few gifts I left behind for ya too!

Lots of lovin’,

Harley<3<3<3

P.s

Xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxxooxxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxoxooxoxoxooxoxoxoxooxoxoxxoxoxoxooxoxoxoxoxoxxxoxox~~~~

[worriedvision]

How bout wriothesley x reader angst ft clorinde. They get shipped a lot. But happy ending or sad ending depends on you.

Gender neutral reader, I've decided to go for a sad ending here. Reader's basically the third wheel. I really wouldn't define this as a 'sad' ending, but it's one where the reader moves away to leave Wriothesley.

--

The constant flirting you had seen from Wriothesley, along with Clorinde, was funny at the beginning. Seeing Wriothesley laugh awkwardly when she scowled at him was hilarious at the start of the three of you making time for each other. Three friends together since both you and Wriothesley met in the fortress- you imprisoned at a similar age at the same time as him, and Clorinde happening upon the two of you on several occasions - and you were happy with being the 'golden retriever' of the group who didn't feel awkward about not being flirted with.

Funny how things change when you begin to feel a tightness in your chest whenever Wriothesley gave a glance at Clorinde before firing a compliment her way. When you picked up on her eyes giving away the fact she was getting flustered before firing back an insult at him, and him joking as he raises his hands.

You recognised, in that moment you knew you caught feelings for Wriothesley, that people who kept looking at your table were merely pitying you.

Pitying you for being the fool that was happy with being left behind in the group when the magnificence of the duo in front of you moved on. Pitying the fact that you were too stupid to realise you were out of place since day one, and you barely spoke because you couldn't do any more than observe.

Once you realised your predicament, you only really had one choice to redeem yourself in your eyes - you had to leave the fortress the moment your extended sentence was completed. You deserved better than to be the third wheel when you thought you were all just friends.

You weren't brace enough to tell Wriothesley, but you had told Clorinde, who respected your decision.

"Don't let your worth be whittled down to an idiot." She shrugs. "I see you you look at him - I don't have any interest, but he hasn't caught on. While I can't convince you without a shadow of a doubt I can stop him, I can tell you that there are plenty of fish in the sea." She continues, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Find someone who loves you. You deserve that much at least."

To your surprise, the sentence you had was lifted. Turns out, you were sentenced based on false allegations - allegations that Neuvilette hadn't known about until Clorinde had literally shoved the evidence in his face. Packing your bags, you knew Wriothesley was the first to be informed of your sentence being lifted.

But he never went to meet you.

In all the years he knew you, he never gave a shit about you.

It stung when you recognised it, but it lifted the only doubt stopping you from leaving. Your singular bag in hand, you take a deep breath to stop yourself from bawling, you walk towards the exit with Clorinde, your best friend leading the way.

Before you could part ways, she pulls you into a hug.

"I'm going to miss you, _. Please keep in touch." She sobs uncharacteristically. "I wished I had seen his true feelings earlier. Maybe then-"

"Don't be silly, Clo!" You reassure her, patting her head as you wrap your arms around her. "If you hadn't spoken to me, I'd still be foolishly telling myself he cares enough about me. Forgetting about him, I know you had produced a very good defence for my actions during the crime I had been sentenced for."

"If it wasn't for you, Clo, nobody would have known that I was merely fighting off an attacker during the night by myself." You smile.

"I promise to keep in contact with you wherever I go - I owe you a luxurious meal at least." You smile.

Clorinde gives you one more hug, and you can tell that she genuinely cares for you.

Wriothesley never even acknowledged you during this whole thing - if he had cared, wouldn't he have approached you to tell you he missed his 'fellow inmate'?

Enough about that, you recognise.

Now that you had on hand Neuvilettes contact details, as well as the details of why you were imprisoned, you had an idea of what you wished to do.

You would move from Fontaine, to another country where people barely knew of your crimes, and upon applying for your educational improvement you would display your current knowledge along with the crime that would show upon a request for your prior crimes.

Anywhere from a different place Wriothesley was in was enough from you, and Sumeru was a good start.