#that's just consistent with the show y'know

[scarlet--wiccan]

I'm still so baffled that people talk about Pietro like he's never in comics any more, and somehow that's the m c u's fault for killing him off in Age of Ultron. Like, I hate the movies and I hate what they did to the Maximoffs, but to claim that this, specifically, is how Pietro was impacted by synergy is just not true. Pietro was consistently booked in the 2010s and didn't start falling off until 2019/2020 when both the Avengers and X-Men lines were going through hard relaunches. Prior to that he was in multiple runs of Uncanny Avengers and had a solo miniseries! The problem is that UA was Pietro's main gig but Krakoa killedit, on top of the fact that the Aaron run of Avengers had a whack premise, whack roster, and went on for way too long. And surprise, surprise, now that both of those things are over and Wanda has a solo series he can guest in, he's started showing up more! I don't understand what's so difficult to grasp here!

Anyway I just got worked up bc i saw someone on twt saying Pietro is "irrelevant now" and their pfp is literally from last month's issue of Scarlet Witch. Y'know the series that relaunched in the middle just to put his name in the title? The series that just wrapped an 8-issue storyline that upgraded his powers and finally promoted him to the same level of cosmological importance as Wanda, which fans have been demanding for years? Or does that not count because there weren't enough "feats" for you?

[helianthus21]

accompanying fic to this fanart in the Early Adoption AU by the amazing @nalivaa who wondered what would happen if rival mafiosi exploited the weakness Vin's cute little brother posed and kidnapped him,,,,

The mafia business is a lawless one but there are some rules, unspoken or not, that you just have to adhere to. 

Such as, Never rat out your friends.

Or, Don’t start a fight you cannot win.

And perhaps the most important one in Milanese circles: You are not to touch a hair on the head of Vincenzo Cassano's little brother.

Like with most rules, they get established after the transgression has already been committed, even if just once. And the poor sons of bitches who tried are example enough to deter any madmen from even trying to copy them, even though, or rather because all but one of them did not live to tell the tale.

Having such a reputation is a relief to Vincenzo, though he has regrets about the way it was built up. Not because of what he had to do to get there – he doesn’t give two fucks about the poor suckers who became victims of his wrath – but because of what Han-seo had been forced to endure. 

Han-seo should’ve never gotten dragged into this. He should not even be a blip on the radar of any mafia members. Unfortunately, no matter how careful Vincenzo thought he was in keeping Han-seo's existence a secret from the mafia circles, trying to keep hidden someone who is such an essential part of your life is something of a herculean effort. 

He still remembers, all too vividly, the numbing fear he'd felt back then, when Luca had approached him and told him that his brother was gone. Taken. Fear that had quickly transformed into white-hot rage: he would kill everyone who had dared lay a finger on Han-seo, and everyone who got in his way would burn to cinder.

Without waiting for Luca or any of the other guys Luca had been trying to rally as reinforcement, he'd taken his Father's precious Cadillac and sped to the location he'd been told.

Apparently they'd demanded ransom – an insane amount at that – as well as some land Don Fabio had appropriated but Vincenzo couldn’t care less about any demands, let alone about fulfilling them. All he would fulfill that night was the blood-thirsty need for revenge that raged inside him.

They had taken Han-seo. 

They were going to pay.

When Vincenzo arrived at the scene, there were four armed men guarding the entrance to the warehouse that held Han-seo captive. As a rule, it is foolish to take on four armed men single-handedly. The four armed men seemed to think so too, which must have been why they did not even lift a brow (or move a trigger finger) when they saw Vincenzo approaching. 

Underestimation, Vincenzo had long since understood, was man’s greatest downfall, right next to pride.

That was why, when Vincenzo raised his gun, aimed, and shot the nearest guy right between his eyes, it took them a second to even process what was happening.

A second too long.

A second enough for Vincenzo. Taking advantage of their delay in action, he shot off two more bullets. One hit Goon Number Two in the heart, the other one missed by a hair's breadth and got Goon Number Three at the shoulder instead. By then, Vincenzo was close enough that some of his blood splattered on his hands.

Number Three and Four had caught themselves enough to coordinate each other: taking off in different directions, they tried their luck by coming at Vincenzo from different angles at once. But Vincenzo didn't hesitate for a moment. He let out another shot to his left, didn’t even stop to check if he'd hit home before whipping around again, anticipating Number Four pouncing on him. 

That was his second mistake.

"Guns are a long-distance weapon, stupido!" Vincenzo commented as he dodged Goon Number Four's attack, grabbed him by the wrist to kick the gun from his grip and spun him around to use as a shield just in time for when Goon Number Three recovered and fired off his own shot in their direction.

Vincenzo pushed a limp Goon Number Four on him and shot Goon Number Three in the aorta.

There was no time to lose. 

"Where is he?"

With the weight of Goon Number Four squarely over his chest and bleeding out, Goon Number Three glared at him. "Testa di cazzo!"

Unimpressed, Vincenzo pushed his foot down on the hole in his leg and repeated his question, voice raised over the man's scream of pain. "Where. Is. He."

"Third door down the corridor to the left."

Expression impassive, Vincenzo nodded. "Keys. And I'll make it quick for you."

From his pocket, the man pulled out the keys to the warehouse and handed them to him

As promised, Vincenzo blew his brains right out.

Vincenzo took a moment to reload his gun. This time, he had every intention of going in with a plan. A more solid one, maybe find a way to see how everyone was positioned around the room before entering or such.

Until he heard Han-seo’s voice.

“Hyu–”

It went muffled at the end, like someone pressed a hand to his mouth to silence him. 

Someone put a hand on him. 

And silenced him.

And Vincenzo saw red.

What happened next is a blur to Vincenzo to this day. He knows that he bullied his way inside, somehow, that at one point he lost his gun – someone must’ve kicked it from his grip – so that he’d have nothing but his fists and whatever he could leverage from his surroundings. He doesn’t know exactly how he fought against all of Han-seo’s captors and came up on top, all he can say is that there were four more dead men, and three gravely injured, once he was done with them. 

What he remembers, though, all too clearly, is standing in that room, gun still firm in his hand like an extension of himself, and looking for his brother in the midst of all that grime and death. 

Han-seo was standing, staring, wide-eyed. 

Some blood had splattered on his face and clothes when Vincenzo had shot the man who’d been holding Han-seo in the cruel attempt to use him as a shield. It had been, perhaps, the scariest moment for Vincenzo in this whole mess. In his entire life thus far, perhaps: the risk he had to take when he aimed with Han-seo so close to his target. But he’d hit home, hit the man in the shoulder, not enough to kill, but enough to make him stumble away from Han-seo. Then, he followed up with another bullet, to his thigh this time, just to keep him from running.

Han-seo had tumbled to the ground, hands and knees breaking his fall. Wincing, Vincenzo took a look at the stone floor. That must have hurt, he thought, and rage flared up once more at that. “Han-seo,” he rasped, taking a step towards him. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

There was a mirror, just behind Han-seo, a little to the left, and it caught Vincenzo’s eye the moment he moved. It was leaning against the wall, an old thing, with cracks at the upper left corner and dust sticking to the rest of it, distorting Vincenzo’s reflection into a grotesque form, like a specter. Blood was splattered all across his suit. Blood sullied the white of his collar. His own blood dripped sluggishly down a cut on his cheek, and blood stuck to his hands: the blood of the people he killed to get here.

He looked like–

He looked like a monster.

He couldn’t look Han-seo in the eyes, wouldn’t bear to see fear reflected in them: fear of his own brother.

“Hy- hyung?”

Han-seo’s voice sounded so thin, so shaky, and this made Vincenzo seek his gaze after all. His feet brought him the rest of the way to him, closing the distance. He dropped to his knees before his brother. Han-seo was still wearing the same jacket he’d been wearing when Vincenzo had dropped him off at school that morning. An ugly atrocity of brightly colored patterns reminiscent of eighties fashion that Han-seo had zoned in on at the mall and absolutely insisted on. He was the same boy from that morning, yet ages had passed behind his eyes. 

Taking care not to touch Han-seo directly, he examined the handcuffs that chafed the skin around his wrists. Bastardos, he thought. To do that to a child! Don Fabio had clear rules about never involving women and children in their work, never harming the innocent and he demanded from his men to abide by this law religiously. 

These men were worse than trash for putting Han-seo through this hell. 

With practiced ease, Vincenzo unlocked the cuffs with a safety pin, careful not to let the metal scrape against Han-seo’s skin any more. They fell to the floor with a clang.

Throughout it all, he felt Han-seo's eyes on him, and the urge to hide his face, to shield Han-seo’s eyes from all this grew by the second. He dreaded to know what Han-seo was thinking now, how the picture of his big brother had, undoubtedly, changed irrevocably. He never wanted Han-seo to see this side of him.

Instead of meeting Han-seo's eyes, Vincenzo focused on his hands: the scratches on his wrist were an angry red, and Vincenzo reached out, then, by instinct, but he caught himself before his hands (the hands of a killer) could meet bare skin, and gripped Han-seo by the arm instead, as though the fabric of his jacket was barrier enough from his tainting touch. Instead, his bloody hands sullied that damn jacket, pink mixing with red, but despite the disgust at himself, Vincenzo needed to make sure he was real, solid. That he was fine.

“Hanseo-yah,” he whispered. 

Han-seo stared at him. 

His knees were bleeding, and Vincenzo was partly to blame for that. There was a cut on his right cheek, smaller than the one Vincenzo sported, yet enough to make his heart constrict at the sight. 

Almost more incriminating, tears were welling in his eyes. When one spilled over, Vincenzo reached out a hand to his left cheek, by instinct, to wipe it away with his thumb. “Han-seo,” he whispered again. “I’m sorry.” 

Horrified by the way his touch left a stain of red on Han-seo’s face, he wanted to draw back, but Han-seo was faster. Like a dam breaking, more tears spilled from his eyes and he launched himself at Vincenzo, scraped knees hitting the cold hard floor once more and it was all Vincenzo could do to catch him in his arms as Han-seo began to cry for real.

For a moment, Vincenzo was too stunned to do more. 

Wasn’t he scared of him? Wasn’t he horrified?

“Hyung!” Han-seo got out between sobs. “They– they…”

They hurt him. 

Any other thought flew out the window, as Vincenzo’s heart flared with the feeling that had risen in him since the first time he’d laid eyes on Han-seo, when Vincenzo had sworn to protect him, that small boy that got left behind just like Vincenzo himself had been left behind.

Vincenzo pulled Han-seo closer, tightened his hold on him, so tight it might almost hurt. “It’s okay.”

“I was so scared!”

“It’s okay, I’m here now.”

“They hurt me.”

“I know.” Vincenzo swallowed. He pushed down another wave of nauseating rage. “I’m sorry.”

“Hyung.”

“You’re alright,” Vincenzo promised  “I’m here now. You’re okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.” One of his hands rubbed back and forth soothingly across his back. “By my first father’s grave, I swear this. Anyone who tries, I’ll…”

He’ll pay them back tenfold, and his currency is pain. He’ll make them feel every second of blinding fear he’d felt for Han-seo since the moment he realized he was missing. Every second that Han-seo was scared, that he had to live in a world where he wasn’t safe, where Vincenzo had failed him. 

Eyes drifting, he caught another glance at the mirror. 

He looked awful.

Like a killer.

Like a monster. 

Suddenly, he couldn’t bear to be near Han-seo. His innocent, carefree dongsaeng had been pulled into this world, his world, and he was the one to blame. He couldn’t stand to touch him with his filthy hands, hands full of blood. 

But as he loosened his grip to draw back, Han-seo only clung to him more tightly.

“Hyung, please!” Han-seo wailed. “Please stay.”

Stunned, Vincenzo didn’t move. “I’m not going anywhere,” he assured. “I’ll keep you safe, from now on. I promise.”

While Vincenzo was wearing the blood of his enemies, the blood on Han-seo  was mostly his own. His knees. His cheek. His wrists were full of scratches from where he had likely pulled against his too tight restraints. He must’ve been so scared. 

Vincenzo would kill them all again, would shoot another load of bullets in their bodies. Make it hurt this time, draw it out, for what they put Han-seo through. For every drop of blood they drew from him, he’d draw a hundred, for every tear that fell from his eyes, he’d tear off a limb. 

He doesn’t know how long they stayed like this, how long until Luca arrived with the cavalry. But when their medic tried to rip them apart to treat their injuries, Han-seo wailed even louder than before. 

"Han-seo," Vincenzo chided carefully, not letting go either. "You need to let them have a look at you."

"No, I'm fine, I just–" he sniffed, and Vincenzo's heart melted. 

He didn’t spend more than a furtive second wondering what Father’s men will think of him now, seeing him fold so easily for this kid. That was less important. More important was to keep Han-seo close, to reassure himself that he was here, that he was fine. He hadn’t been able to breathe since he found out Han-seo had been captured, and now he finally could. He closed his eyes, took in the vague smell of candy and Han-seo’s strawberry shampoo and, most damningly, the iron smell of blood that now clung to his little brother. Instinctively, Vincenzo hugged him a little tighter.

“You’re alright.” He couldn’t in all sincerity tell anymore if the reassurance was for Han-seo’s or his own sake.

Now that he knew that Han-seo was largely unharmed, the thing he most abhorred about this day was the fear these men put Han-seo through. The fear that shook his world view, burst the bubble that his world was a safe one. The fear that stripped him of the belief that as long as his brother was around, things would go alright, that he’d never let any harm come his way. 

Because he had been there, and harm had still found Han-seo.

In the worst way, Vincenzo had failed. If something worse had happened to Han-seo, he’d never have forgiven himself…

In the end it was Luca who managed to dislodge Han-seo’s iron hold on Vincenzo.

“Han-seo,” he’d addressed the boy directly. “We really need to have a look at the both of you. Your hyung doesn’t look so good himself…”

Immediately, Han-seo drew back to look Vincenzo over. There was a determined look in his watery eyes fighting to overthrow the state of distress he was obviously still in, his cheeks marked with tear tracks. Vincenzo reached out to wipe them away but the sight of blood on his hands made him waver.

He wanted to drop his hand to his side, but Han-seo was faster.

"Hyung, your hands!" His brother caught them between his smaller ones, the same delicate fingers that had pieced together a toy car at the breakfast table this morning brushing over Vincenzo’s bruised knuckles, where skin had ripped open when he’d punched his way through Han-seo’s captors. More blood transferred from Vincenzo onto Han-seo’s skin, and his stomach lurched at the sight, urge to pull back growing exponentially but Han-seo was insistent. “You need a band-aid!”

And in front of the eyes of his Father’s most trusted men, their medic and the corpses of their enemies, Han-seo reached into his pants’ pocket, pulled out a strip of dinosaur-themed bandaid and, very gently, stuck it right across Vincenzo’s knuckles.

Wide-eyed, Vincenzo stared at him. A small smile brightened Han-seo’s miserable face as he examined his handiwork and Vincenzo remembered what he had said to Han-seo, on that fateful day when Han-seo was hand-delivered to his doorstep by an uncaring former brother.

Let's just take care of one another from now on.

Han-seo never failed to save Vincenzo right back, it seemed.

*

He let the man go, the one who had used Han-seo as a shield. Someone needs to live to tell the tale. The tale of what happened when you dared to mess with Vincenzo Cassano's little brother. 

The saying doesn’t specify for how long that person should be allowed to live, however. But Vincenzo was a patient man when he wanted to be. He liked to play with his food.That man was how Vincenzo earned the title of the gatto sazio, but that's another story yet to tell.

[fishlung8877]

Her arm changes every time I try to draw it

[tetedurfarm]

while i'm posting eval pics: look at these extremely hotot-shaped hotots x:

top is cuckoo, bottom is boy smells. cuckoo is a quarter satin, boy smells is purebred. i feel like you can really tell, even though cuckoo is by no means gorgeous. but she has a wider shoulder and base than boy smells. i just wish i knew what in the hell her spine thought it was doing lol.

i will be at convention next month and hope to do a bit of shopping. i am going to be much more picky this time than i was last time because i've been tinkering enough i know more of what i really need. nars and anastasia are already a step in the right direction i think, but anastasia's first litter with me is only two weeks old and nars' is not quite weaning age so i haven't been able to evaluate yet. this time i am looking for depth depth depth depth. anastasia and nars are bringing the width but now i need DEPTH. and with depth comes spine flexibility which i sorely need too. pray that my really underdeveloped shmoozing skills work in my favour

[swordsonnet]

okay i'll say it: the bbc ghosts christmas special fucking sucked.

[notjanine]

i am in suuuuuch a weird headspace rn, my brain is like. i want half a boyfriend i want a husband i want an easy carefree hookup i want to have sex with only one more person in my entire life i want to have a slut era i want someone to fall in love with me i want to ruin a man's life. who am i

[loregoddess]

"13. what's one thing you'd change about fe3h?" for the ask game :D

Ooooh, lots and lots in regards to the story writing, if only to try and patch all the holes in the worldbuilding. But if I could only have one (1) thing, I think I'd add a way for the player to access Sothis's memories as she regains them, as a way of giving narrative insight into past events, since that's one of the murkier parts of the worldbuilding.

Mechanically though I'd remove the gender-locked classes, which I'm sure is a shock to everyone. But the game should not keep me from slamming Hubert and Linhardt into the gremory class (or dark flier, do you know how much I am miffed I can't make Hubert a dark flier?), and Hilda would work SO well in the warmaster class (and also it's stupid I can't have women in the highest-tier class capable of punching people out; an all-brawling run would be SO funny, esp. if I could use everyone from the same house).

[vinyls-and-valentines]

Top 10 Scooby-Doo media to make shitty show-writers watch before making a show for the Scooby-Doo franchise

[gotjacobian]

ok but what if THIS time the act of creation is pointless because I fundamentally lack something ineffable that is required to make art that reads with clarity and impact and will never know it. so my every attempt is only received as muddled and pathetic in a way I cannot perceive or comprehend. what if THIS time that's true.

[rosysugarr]

Y'know, I started to type out a massive post about how sad and frustrating it is that every USAmerican southern character in anything is presented as ignorant and uneducated and "dumb" and even hateful, how there are people here with degrees and careers and incredibly complex skills that took years to develop and learn, and then I realized, fuck that-- yeah, there are a lot of people with no or little education down here. We're fucking poor. A lot of us just can't afford college. A lot of us have to get jobs instead to support our families. Some people dropped out of high school to do that. And you know what? They're still human beings who deserve to be represented as whole, real, functional people and not flat archetypes.

Like yeah, I could talk about all the talented and smart people who came from down here, but the "simple," the disabled, the uneducated down here don't deserve the way the media depicts them, either! Because the bulk of them are good people who just got dealt a bad hand because we are so pathetically poor down here. And yeah, that includes the addicts. We have a lot of addicts down here. And that isn't our fault, either. when you're dealt the worst possible hand and no one wants to help you, everyone regards you as being trash, you're gonna cope however you can.

Everyone wants to write us off and present us in media as pretty much just. nothing people, but there are many, many people here of all walks of life who deserve respect and who need help that they aren't getting BECAUSE nobody shows us any fucking respect, and the way the media depicts us consistently does constant, DEEP damage to the way the rest of the country views us. It isn't fucking fair and it isn't fucking okay.

[gender-euphowrya]

okay so my cousin's daughter is definitely on the spectrum and idk how to break it to them

[archangeldyke-all]

can you write something about sevika getting chubbier by skipping the gym because she's focusing on you and other priorities in her life. and finding out she's pleasantly surprised by the extra weight

YES I FUCKING CAN!!!!!!!

men and minors dni

since you've moved in together six months ago, sevika's put on some weight.

she's a tall woman, and she's ripped with muscle, so it's hard to tell at first. but... over time you begin to notice a bit of a change.

her hips are a little plusher beneath your grip, her ribs aren't visible anymore, her sharp jawline gets a little softer.

it makes you so fucking happy.

when you first met her, the woman barely ate. besides whiskey and bar nuts, her appetite mostly consisted of eating whatever scraps jinx leaves behind on her plate after lunch.

you made it a habit to shove snacks in her hands at any chance you got. trail mix, granola bars, sliced fruit: just whatever you had near you that you could give her. she always digs in without hesitation, never tries to deny the food, so you start shoving snacks in her pockets when you do her laundry, and her beg when she's not looking.

as you guys grew closer, sevika started blowing off her nightly visits to the gym to visit with you instead. you asked her once over dinner if she missed her hobby, and she'd just shrugged, smiling at you. "i'll still get a pretty good workout in with you once we get home, babe." she teased. you snorted and elbowed her, shoveling another bite of cake in her mouth, and she smirked as she spoke around a glob of chocolate frosting. "gym's not as fun as you, anyways."

she's still just as strong as she was before; if anything, the extra fat on her body just gives her more fuel to last longer during her fights-- more padding to block and diffuse her opponent's blows.

as much as you love the visual confirmation that you're feeding your girl properly, and she's treating herself a little softer these days; most of the time you don't even notice the weight gain. it's still sevika: the love of your fucking life. she's never brought it up to you, and you've never brought it up to her.

but now, she's standing in front of the mirror, pouting down at her pants.

you blink up from you book and watch her for a second, her hand groping the little pouch of fat she's put on her lower stomach. her lips twitch up at the side just a bit, just for a second, but it still makes your heart flop over to see.

"sev?" you ask.

she turns around to look at you. "my pants don't button anymore." she pouts. you chuckle, making grabby hands for your girlfriend from your shared bed. sevika launches herself in your arms without hesitation. she huffs against your tits, nuzzling your chest.

"i'll alter 'em for you. i know how attached you are to those dusty things."

sevika chuckles, pinches your side before she glares at you. "you like these dusty things too-- they show off my ass."

"mmhmm, real well." you say, nodding and smacking her ass on top of you. sevika giggles and collapses against you again.

she's quiet, drawing a pattern on your skin with her finger. you know she's got something on her mind, you just wait patiently for her to find the words.

"y'know i've gained, like, forty five pounds since we met?" she asks.

you raise an eyebrow at her.

"yeah?" you ask, trying to read her mood. sevika smiles.

"yeah." she says. "i've always been skinny-- at least, since i started puberty. i was a chunky kid, though." she chuckles. you grin at the image of a chubby baby sevika toddling around.

"are you... upset?" you ask quietly.

sevika chuckles. "fuck no." she says. "it's... nice?" she asks. you grin down at her.

"yeah?"

"yeah. i dunno. it's just... i don't feel like i have to train everyday anymore. i don't feel like a fuckin' failure if i skip a day at the gym. i don't get migraines or hangovers as bad anymore, and..." she trails off, looking away from you. you nudge her, recognizing the flustered look on her face and dying to know what's got her blushing. "i dunno." she whispers, chancing a glance up at you. "when i look down and see my stomach's soft... it just makes me think of all the nice meals i got to eat with you to get this way." she says with a sweet smile.

you choke a bit on your breath, then flip the pair of you over, groaning as you bury your face against sevika's giggling throat. "sev!" you whine.

"what?" she asks, laughing.

"you can't just say sweet shit like that baby, you'll make me cry." you whimper against her.

sevika kisses you head and smacks your ass, her free hand drawing patterns into your back. "you can cry babe. i'll hold you."

this does nothing to stop your tears. you groan and pinch sevika's soft side, relishing in the squeal it pulls from her, and the way her rock-hard abs are covered in a nice layer now-- all 'cause of you.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub @glass-apothecary @m0numents @macaroni676 @vixel352 @artinvain

[beeftony]

What makes Gushing Over Magical Girls so compelling is that absolutely none of it is bait. In the most recent episode, two villains who joined the protagonist's team after battling them in the previous episode are put in a situation where they have to make out, and where most other stories would stop with them timidly locking lips for a few seconds as fanservice, these characters then strip naked and proceed to fuck. And it's intercut with the backstory of how these two characters grew up as the only two people who ever put up with each other, and how their friendship grew into deeper feelings that are now being expressed, and it's surprisingly touching.

It's just, y'know, the main character is watching them the whole time while they're locked in a box, but the other thing that makes this show so consistently appealing is wondering how the fuck they were allowed to air this on tv instead of direct to blu ray hentai.

[assembletheimagines]

was thinking about steve and a shield agent also avenger living in the compound but having like lots of sexual tension so both make goofy jokes about hook up and then they do but hard and dirty :)

A/N: Omg yes please. Also, if people don't realize I publish without proofing first- apologies!

Warnings: Oral (f. r), dirty talk?, a smidge or hint at a dom!Steve? (like squint and turn your head- it's a little vibe)

The air in the room fills with electricity when the words fall from your lips. Your inner thoughts winning in the moment when Steve and you were lounging in the library of the compound. You two had been relaxing, going back and forth with teasing smiles and lingering looks.

The energy in the small room building as you talked innocently as friend and coworkers normally do before diving into more mature topics. Toeing the line, before your tongue became a little too loose and you admitted you've never orgasmed from someone else.

Steve’s blue eyes darken at your confession the same time your cheeks color red. "It's fine, it just take a moment for me to climax, it's just easier to do it myself, y'know?" The words falling from your lips in a jumble as you try to back pedal but only dig your grave further down. He doesn't say anything for a moment, the silence thick in the air as you wish the couch you were sitting on opened up and swallowed you whole.

"I bet I could," Steve finally murmurs, his voice deep and rough as he licks his bottom lip with his tongue. His gaze already gliding down your body and causing you to blink at the super soldier in confusion.

"Excuse me?" You challenge, eyes wide as you watch the handsome blonde man lean back against the library desk, crossing his arms over his chest confidently. His smile curving into a seductive grin.

He doesn't stop looking you in the eye as he answers, "I can make you cum." And then takes it a step further by beckoning you to him with a teasing curl of his fingers. “C’mere.”

And you have no time to think as your legs move on their own accord. You can feel a wetness pool between your thighs by just the one word, crossing the room with four easy steps. You feel like your body is on fire already and he hasn’t even touched you yet.

His eyes are hooded as he gives you a knowing smirk. “Such a good girl, you follow orders so well.” He coos and doesn’t miss the whimper you let out in response nor the way your thighs squeeze together from his words. "Do you want me to make you cum?" He asks, reaching out for your waist, pulling you closer to him. "Hmm? Want me to show you how good it feels to cum on my fingers, my mouth, on my cock?" His voice low and soft as he dips his fingers under the hem of your dress for a moment, his fingers brushing over the back of your thighs making a shiver run down your spine.

And your nodding your head, the lust taking over. A quiet and breathless, "please," the only permission he's needing before he's moving. Forcing you to take his place against the desk. His warm big hand pressing between your shoulder blades, making you bend over the desk and presenting your ass to him.

You hear him suck in a breath before groaning as your dress rides up and exposes your panties to him. You feel your pussy clenching around nothing in response, knowing he's groaning because he can see the wet spot on your panties. Your thoughts confirmed when his knuckle brushes over your wet folds, the panties being the only thing separating his fingers from your dripping cunt.

"Did I make you this wet, baby?" He asks and your eyes squeeze shut, your legs being knocked further apart by his leg as he keeps a consistent press on your back. Keeping you pinned over the desk. "Fuck, can't wait to taste you. You're going to let me, right? Want to cum on my mouth, right?" He prods, fingers still stroking you over your panties as you try to think and speak.

"Yes, fuck, yes," you press back onto his hand and earn a laugh from him.

"So eager," he hums and you whine as his fingers disappear before reappearing on the back of your thighs. You take a chance to look back over your shoulder and gasp as you see Steve on his knees behind you, his hands rubbing up your legs and pushing your dress up to around your waist. "Don't move from your position." He orders and you stay bent over as he slides your panties down your legs in one slow motion.

"Steve," you grip the edge of the desk, desperation filling your voice as you realize this is really happening. A new wave of arousal forms and Steve's fingers wrap around your ankle, lifting it up momentarily and discarding your panties.

"Fuck, you're dripping down your thighs," he rasps and you keen, blushing as he moves your thighs farther apart. Finally feeling his warm breath fan over your wet folds, his fingers exposing you further as he finally gets a taste of you. His tongue giving a long broad lick, collecting your slick with a low groan.

And that's the final straw, his face eagerly pressing into your dripping cunt after he get his taste. Moving your leg, making you hook it over the desk edge as he sucks your clit into his mouth reverently.

Your at his mercy, crying out as he eats you out like a man starved. His one hand keeping your leg on the desk as the other holds your waist. Tongue swirling around your clit before dipping into your entrance, slurping up your arousal with each lick.

The library quickly fills up with your moans, your hips rolling backwards to press into his mouth more. You can already feel a familiar knot build in your abdomen as Steve works you up.

You didn't know you could be so turned on by hearing him slurp and groan between your thighs. But you're getting wetter with each lick. Thighs tensing as you squeeze your eyes shut in pleasure. "Oh, just like that," you gasp stomach clenching as you feel his tongue thrust in and out of your cunt and his hand that was once on your waist, now stroke your clit.

The pitch in your cries, increase as he rubs the bundle of nerves in swifts circles. His groans muffled but deep as he brings you closer to the edge. You can't help but think, no wonder no one's made you orgasm, no one's eaten you out like Steve. Your walls clenching around his tongue as you feel it fast approaching. Your hips wiggling back in desperation, you need to warn him, you-

And then your body seizes, a broken gasp echoing in the air before you cry out. Your thighs shaking violently as your orgasm consumes you and makes you see stars.

Steve takes everything you give. Tongue stroking over your twitching pussy, thumb firmly pressed on your clit as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

He only stops when you whine in overstimulation, your breaths coming in quick pants as you slowly drop your leg off the table. Your thighs still shake, but you slowly turn around to face him; and the sight before you makes your cunt throb, a new wave of slick rushing between your thighs again.

Steve's still kneeling on his knees. His bottom half of his face a shiny mess with your arousal smeared on his nose, lips, and chin. His lips puffy from the heavy make out he did with your pussy only moments ago.

He's licking his lips savoring your taste as he stands up. He doesn't hesitate as he nods his head at you, "lay back on the desk. You still need to cum on my fingers before you cum on my cock, baby."

[spidernuggets]

reader showing jason her plushie collection?

Jason Todd x Reader

"So, you don't think any of this is dumb?"

"Without a shadow of a doubt, sweetheart"

You didn't hear your front door open, though. You'd given your boyfriend, Jason, a spare key to your apartment for emergencies.

You were in your apartment, stuffing your face with chips, watching a movie on your laptop. You had your favourite stuffed animal wedged in between your arm and your cheek, laughing at the comedic one-liners that a character said.

In this case, you had your bedroom door locked because never in a million years would you show your boyfriend your plushie collection.

Most were animals, consisting of cows, bats, sharks, cats, dogs, and more. You had probably 2 or 3 Jellycat plushies, too.

Your most favourite plushie besides the animals was the small bodied, big headed Red Hood plush you found a while ago. You've seen so many Batman, Nightwing, and Robin merchandise, and you always sulked when you came to the conclusion there were no Red Hood merch.

So you took matters into your own hands.

Sure, the stitching and stuffing was a little messy, but you managed to create your own little Red Hood plushie that is currently sitting comfortably beside your laptop so it's easy to see.

Embarrassingly, you'd give it kisses here and there for nights that you worry that Jason might not come back for patrol. But luckily, he always does.

But once again, you'd never show Jason any of this. You're a grown ass adult, living your own life, you have your own place, a full-time job. Plus, your boyfriend is a 6 ft something, 200 pound something vigilante who busts crime and kicks ass.

Why the fuck would he want to date someone who owns thousands of plushies, plus their own homemade one. He'd probably be too embarrassed to be seen with someone like that.

You flinched when you heard a twist on your doorknob.

"Babe? You there?" Jason called out. You heard the slight panic in his voice. You didn't question it since the conversation both of you had about Jason always being paranoid that his occupation would lead you into danger while you're in a relationship with him.

You slammed your laptop shut, frantically looking at the plushies scattered all over your room. Shit.

"Uh- Yeah! Just a sec!" You yelled back, your voice cracking in the process.

You and Jason have been together long enough for him to know when you're panicking. He knocked again. "You okay in there, mama?"

You tripped over yourself, luckily not making much noise, as you shoved all your teddies and plushies and toys into your cramped, small closet, not having time to organise it neatly like usual.

"Yeah, yeah! Just kind of messy in here!" You say as you try to shut your closet.

You rushed to your door, unlocking it and smiling up to your boyfriend in front of you.

"Hi!" You quickly say, awkwardly leaning against your door frame.

"Hi to you too, sweetheart," he replies, looking sloghtly confused. "Why are you out of breath?"

"Oh- I.." You cleared your throat. "I didn't know you were coming over."

"Am I not allowed to?..." He asks, tilting his head to the side.

"You are! You are.. I just thought you'd be busy today."

Jason shrugged. "Hmm. So what were you doing before?"

Your shoulders relaxed as you steadied your breath. "Just watching a movie. Wanna continue with me?"

Jason smiled, kissing your forhead. "Of course, sweetheart."

As you steooed aside from the door to let Jason into your room, from the corner of your eye, you see your closet door slightly open, an ear of your bunny teddy sticking out a little bit.

As Jason went to go open your laptop, he follows your swift movements to shut your closet door.

"What was that?" He asked.

You turned to him as your eyebrows raised high in panic. "What was what?" You ask back quickly. "I was just... y'know.. closing my door. It's nothing, " you say with uncertainty.

"Babe..."

"Yeah?"

"You always have your eyebrows raised when you lie," Jason says, his voice turning monotone and serious.

Your eyebrows immediately go back down. "I- I'm not lying," you stuttered.

Jason walked towards you, stopping right in front of your closet. "Sweetheart? Can you open it up for me?" He asks, only hoping that he's being overdramatic and she has nothing to hide from him.

"Why?" You asked in a small, quiet voice.

"Well, why wouldn't you?"

"Well, there's nothing interesting in there so..."

"I thought we agreed, no secrets," Jason said, getting upset, his emotions starting to escalate. "What? Is there a guy in there?" He says, his insecurities getting the better of him. "You cheating on me? 's that why your door was locked? Why you were running around in here?" He quickly asks all at once.

Your eyes widen. "Jason!" You exclaimed. "I would never cheat on you! You know that!"

Jason takes a breath, calming down. "I... I know. 'm sorry- I'm sorry, baby, I know you wouldn't, I was just being stupid. Had a long day. Let's just watch your movie, hm?" He says, dragging himself across the room once more, sottomg on your bed, getting your movie ready.

You sighed. "No. Jason, you're right. We don't keep secrets," you say as Jason's head shoots up.

"No, no, no! I didn't mean 'it's true, I'm cheating on you', I meant..." You hesitated. You sighed once more before opening your closet, revealing the pile of plushies tumbling down to the ground.

Jason's eyebrows furrowed as he got up, inspecting the toys spread out in front of him. "What? What am I looking at? These things have drugs in them?" He asks.

You give him a confused look. "What? No. It's just my plushie collection," you claimed.

"And...?"

Both you and Jason were utterly confused.

Was he not shocked? Embarrassed at your collection?

Was this your big secret? A bunch of teddies?

"Is... Is it not stupid? Having a shit ton of plushies? Like... I'm a grown ass adult owning children's toys. You really wanna be dating someone that could bring down your... I don't know. Tough guy persona?" You ask.

And Jason laughs. "Sweetheart, what? It's not stupid. I have at least one teddy I kept since I was a kid back in the manor. And I'm sure Dick has more than you," he steps closer to you, cradling your face in his large hands, placing a kiss on your forhead. "And they seem that much to you too. Wanna introduce me to some of them?"

And that question got you eyes twinkling. You're sure you saw heaven. And Jason couldn't help but smile at your excited reaction.

So you started picking up some of your plushies, introducing them to Jason.

You were both sitting on your bed as you described how you fell in love with an octopus plushie at a charity shop until something caught the corner of Jason's eye.

"Oh my god..." he lowly says.

"What?" You ask, suddenly curious.

Jason gets up and heads to you pile of plushies, picking up the clumsily stitched Red Hood toy of him. Your face flushed in embarrassment.

"Do not!... say anything. Don't let it get to your ego, okay? No stores had any Red Hood merchandise..." You pathetically say.

Jason chuckles as he goes over to you, planting a gentle peck on your cheek. "It's cute. You're cute," he says, his index finger under your chin, moving your face towards his as he kisses your lips.

"So you don't think any of this is dumb?" You ask as you break the kiss.

UGHHh thank you for this request, Anon 🙏 This request made me haooy seeing as i have a small plushie collection of my own!!

Jason smiles. "Without a shadow of a doubt, sweetheart," he says as he pulls you in for anotber tender kiss.

[satcrvz]

CHAPTER TWENTY; soft launch

navi

the two of you drove down streets, city lights leaking into the car, illuminating your faces. you didn't plan on this being the way he hears the playlist you'd made for him. but rather this than over text, right?

"so," he finally speaks up, "did you want to go somewhere or just drive around?"

you glance at him, "it was your idea! but we could go to wendys?" he could hear the smile in your tone, despite not looking at your face.

for just a moment, a comfortable silence filled the car. that was until the familiar tune of ‘show me how’ started playing. you let it play not thinking much of it, but somehow every lyric seemed to be so much louder.

in a hushed tone you mutter out, "oh my gosh," while resting your head on the window.

yuta contains a smile knowing exactly what's happening and mentally punches himself for not realizing earlier. half the song went by before he mustered up the courage to finally say something.

"hey." you hum and lift your head to acknowledge him. "y'know i like you too right?"

your eyes quickly widen after you process his words. "wait, who told you? was it maki? i'm going to jump out"

he glances over at you and smiles, "you're just gonna ignore my confession huh? i almost shit my pants saying that!" you look down to play with your fingers out of nervousness. "and you're gonna ignore my question? it was maki wasn't it?"

he confirms your suspicion and knows he'll regret it later. he pulls into a parking space and looks over at you.

"can i be your boyfriend?"

it's hard not to smile but you immediately accept his offer. he shuts off the vehicle, and like he has many times before, runs to open your door for you.

the two of you walk toward the fast food building. "so is this technically our first date?" you ask while playfully sidestepping and nudging his shoulder.

he whines at you to not count this as your first date, "our first date will be something better. trust me."

the rest of the night consisted with the two of you eating and exchanging stories about how you acted when you liked each other. you giggled at one confession in particular, him thinking you and megumi had a thing going on.

"yuta? dude, you knew megumi before me, i think you’d know if he had a girl!" you say inbetween laughs.

"you could’ve been a secret girlfriend… and don’t dude me! we’re dating now"

that makes you laugh even harder, so hard that you missed his sly antics. he’d taken a straw and balled up the paper at the end and blew it at you.

any other time you probably would’ve thrown food at him, but you were in public so the tamest thing you could do was flick him off.

:3 confession guys

kendrick and drake beef a lil funny. i see why j cole apologized, i wouldn’t want to mess with kendrick either 😭

one more chapter and perhaps a bonus :p

DO YOU GUYS KNOW WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT WITH THE STRAW THING? MY BROTHER USED TO DO IT TO ME

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