#you're free to continue lurking

[theminecraftbee]

"So, and I can't believe I have to be the guy to point this out," Doc starts hesitantly.

"Terrible start! Go on," Cleo says.

"But you seem to be one of the only sane people left right now," Doc continues.

"Even more terrible, although I appreciate your delusion," Cleo says.

"And I have to--you know, if you're going to make fun of me for bringing you a problem maybe I just won't. I can solve it myself. I basically solved the moon thing myself," Doc says. "I am trying to be responsible before this turns into a whole thing."

"Doc, you came to me. Did you want anything that wasn't me making fun of you? Because you know, if so, I really feel bad for you. I already feel bad enough for you that you think you actually managed to do anything at all about the moon thing."

Doc throws his hands up. "I am trying to warn you the ocean is evil! It's important! This is important!"

"The deep sea being evil isn't new," Cleo starts, "I was building Atlantis last season--"

"It sent, sent, salmon people to kill me!"

Cleo stops. They look Doc in the eyes. They search for any signs of deception at all. It's a little hard to tell, on account of Doc only having one eye even capable of expressiveness, and his face being the opposite of human, but...

"What?" Cleo says dumbly.

"It was like, like, Beef and Skizz, they were crazy! They were talking about a giant fish and how I shouldn't defy it. And I was like, what is a Big Salmon? I don't know, man, but they're ocean mobsters. And then I started looking. It's not just them. It's not just them Cleo, it's everyone. The ocean, man, it's evil, it's getting everyone. I've, I've made a list. Grian. Have you looked at Grian lately?"

"I think if we were worried about every time Grian got possessed then we wouldn't have any free time," Cleo says hesitantly.

"Right, right, but it was supposed to be Demise. The killing each other, all of the killing each other. I thought, oh, that'll get it out of their systems. But it's not just him Cleo! It's--have you seen Gem? She's all, oh, I will build a boat. Oh, I'll provoke the creatures of the deep. And then. Do you know what I saw all of Team ZITS doing? Fishing!"

"Doc," Cleo says, increasingly concerned for him. He looks... disheveled.

"And not just fishing, oh no. They were standing in the water fishing! And Pearl! Have I mentioned that Pearl is dressing up as a salmon? I mentioned that, yes? The salmon Pearl?"

"You hadn't, unless that was the big fish thing," Cleo says.

"No, that was something different, I think Pearl is maybe a different salmon."

"Sure, okay, more than one salmon, that makes sense," Cleo says dryly.

"And everyone, they are fishing each other around the ocean, yes? Etho is in the ocean! XB is in the ocean! I think I saw Joe crawl out of the ocean earlier, he was all wet and haunted! Surely that is a sign the ocean is evil."

"No, he's just like that," Cleo says. "Also, I did the fishing rod thing too. I think it's just... normal fun."

"They're getting you too. My assessment that you're the sane one. I've said too much."

"I think you need sleep," Cleo says. "Doc, there isn't an ocean-based conspiracy. It's the start of the season. You know we're just like this."

"That's the thing, I can't sleep," Doc says. "I can't. I sleep and I see it. I see it, lurking beneath the waves. It's calling for me Cleo. It's calling. And when it calls, it seems so--kind. But then. But then! I wake up, and I remember the shape of it, and..."

Doc shudders and stops talking. Cleo looks at him a moment longer and then, like comforting a nervous animal, takes his shoulder.

"You should take a nap. It's the start of the season. You're over-stressing yourself. Too much too fast?" they say, as soothingly as possible.

"It's coming for us," Doc says. "It's coming. I don't want to ignore it this time, yes? What's coming for us. We should--we should--"

"Even if it is, Doc, I don't think we can fight the ocean. Come on. Maybe sleeping in my base will help reset your brain."

Doc shudders, but lets Cleo guide him inside. They watch until at last he falls asleep fitfully before shaking their head and sighing.

"A giant fish that was trying to kill him. Honestly. I don't know where he gets these things from. Always a conspiracy with him..."

They decide to go to Ren. Ren knows how to humor Doc. Surely they can get in their ridiculous games again, and Doc will forget all about this. Doc would enjoy the Ministry of Ministries. Maybe he can be an anarchist or something. That would be good for him.

Doc cries out in his sleep. Cleo turns to him.

Then again, they have this strange sinking feeling in their stomach. Doc's... awfully worked up.

But it's Doc.

Surely it's nothing.

[hazbinwhoree]

Hello! I hope I'm not bothering you or anything! But I've been lurking on your blog for quite a bit now lol. If it's okay, can I request a jealous! Adam x Reader? If you're feeling generous, maybe make it a bit smutty? The Reader can be an angel, sinner or hellborn. The story is completely up to you!

Jealousy, Jealousy

A/N: I left it vague so the reader can be angel, sinner, or hellborn, it’s up to you reader!

Warnings: Slight breeding kink

Adam was seething. He watched Michael and (Name) interact, Michael clearly flirting if his facial expressions and body language were anything to go by. Adam had left her alone for two minutes and Michael swooped in. He quickly decided he’d seen enough and barged into the conversation.

“Shitface,” he greeted Michael, putting a possessive hand on (Name)’s waist and pulling her into him. Michael soured. “Adam,” he greeted tightly. “We have places to be,” Adam announced. “Later, Mikey.” He tugged (Name) away.

With her hand in his, Adam led (Name) swiftly to his home, and as soon as they were inside, he was slamming (Name) up against the wall.

“Adam!” she gasped. “What’s gotten into you?”

“You letting Michael carry on even though he clearly wanted to fuck you.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He was fucking flirting with you, (Name).”

“Oh… does that mean you’re jealous?”

Adam didn’t answer with words. Instead he growled and buried his face in her neck, sucking and biting his marks onto her. (Name) moaned. Adam pulled back just to lift her up by the ass, her legs locking around his waist. Then he continued the assault on her neck. (Name) felt heat rush to her core. She liked this possessive side of Adam.

“He wanted to fuck you,” Adam hissed against her neck. “But I’m the only one who can fuck you.” (Name) shuddered.

Adam had never been more grateful for skirts, tugging (Name)’s up to bunch around her stomach, revealing her panties. He ripped those without a care, and (Name) whined, “I liked that pair.” “I’ll buy you a new one, shut up.”

(Name) was really enjoying this. She should make Adam jealous more often.

Suddenly Adam was lifting her up the wall until her crotch was at his face. She threw her legs over his shoulders. Adam held her up against the wall as he leaned forward and began eating her out like it was his last meal. (Name) cried out and grabbed onto his horns.

His skilled tongue went up and down a few times before circling her clit, and then he began to fuck her with it. Adam had a long tongue, and (Name) had never been more grateful for it as she held onto him for dear life.

Adam’s tongue circled her clit again, and (Name) was quickly nearing the edge. Adam knew her well enough to recognize when she was close, and to her dismay, he pulled back and tapped her legs. She reluctantly slid them off his shoulders and let herself slide down the wall until she and Adam were face to face again.

He slammed his lips against hers and (Name) moaned when she could taste herself on him. It was absolutely sinful.

Adam disconnected their lips and put (Name) on the ground. She leaned heavily against the wall, her legs shaky. Adam shed his robe and pulled his pants and boxers down just enough to free his dick.

He grabbed (Name) under her arms and lifted her back up against the wall. She wrapped her arms around his neck while he lined himself up before abruptly thrusting up into her. (Name) cried out, nearly choking Adam with how tight she held onto him.

Adam couldn’t care less, beginning to thrust at an absolutely brutal pace. She was positioned just so that with every thrust her clit rubbed against his pubic bone.

“Fuck, Adam,” she moaned.

“You’re mine, you hear me?” Adam panted. “Michael wishes he could have you like this, but he could never satisfy you like I can.”

(Name) blushed. “You like that, slut? You like when I talk to you while I fuck you?”

(Name) swallowed her pride and nodded.

“Good, because you need to know that you’re mine, I fucking own you. No one else can fuck you this good. The next time I catch you letting Michael flirt with you, I’m fucking you in front of him.”

(Name) moaned unabashedly.

Adam groaned, getting close. He could tell (Name) was getting close too, and he kept his pace steady and hard. “I’m gonna cum in you while you cum on my dick. Gonna put a fucking baby in you. Then everyone will know who you belong to.”

That pushed (Name) over the edge and she came with a cry. Her pussy tightened around Adam and that was all it took for him to cum as well. He pushed (Name) down on his dick while simultaneously thrusting upwards, cumming deep inside of her.

They stayed like that for a minute, panting and catching their breaths.

“Fuck, Adam, that was–” “Fantastic, I know.” The cocky bastard.

Adam was going to set (Name) back on the floor, but by the way her legs were shaking, he wasn’t sure she’d be able to stand. So he pulled out, smirking when some of his cum dripped down her thigh and onto the floor.

He carried her over to the bed and gently placed her down on it. “Wait here.” He went to grab a towel.

As he carefully cleaned her up after cleaning himself, (Name) stared at him with an indiscernible expression. “What?” Adam asked.

“I should get you jealous more often.”

[doumadono]

✨ SINFUL SUNDAY BITCHES ✨

Can we get some villain Bakugo corrupting pro hero reader?

Warnings: smut w/o plot, non-con elements, rough smut, pussy fingering, cunnilingus, creampie, fem prohero!reader, villain!Bakugo, semi-public, a bit of humiliation and degradation?, Bakugo being sardonic, a little of power play, forced orgasm

A/N: this request got the second highest number of votes during another Sinful Sunday poll I held. Thank you to everyone who voted!

SINFUL SUNDAY MY HERO ACADEMIA

The night was cloaked in darkness, the moon a mere sliver in the sky, casting a faint glow over the bustling city below. Neon lights flickered, casting eerie glows on the wet pavement. The quiet murmur of the city was interrupted by distant sirens, a reminder of the ever-present danger lurking in the shadows.

You were a pro hero, dedicated and unwavering in your resolve to protect the citizens of Musutafu. You stood atop a high-rise building, your heart pounding in your chest as you scanned the streets for any sign of the notorious villain who had been wreaking havoc recently. Katsuki Bakugo, once a promising hero-in-training, had taken a dark turn, abandoning his dreams of heroism to embrace a path of destruction and chaos. 

Your mission tonight was clear: apprehend Bakugo and bring him to justice. But as you stood there, the cold wind biting at your skin through your costume, you couldn't shake the unease that settled in your stomach. Bakugo was known for his explosive temper and unparalleled strength, and you had a feeling this encounter would be anything but easy.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion echoed through the night, shaking the building beneath your feet. You spun around, your eyes wide as you spotted the source of the blast: a plume of smoke rising from a nearby warehouse. Without hesitation, you leapt from the rooftop, and  made your way towards the chaos.

As you approached the warehouse, you could see the flicker of flames licking at the sky, the acrid scent of burning metal and debris filling your nostrils. You landed gracefully, your boots hitting the ground with a soft thud. The warehouse was in ruins, chunks of concrete and twisted metal scattered around the area. And in the midst of the destruction, standing amidst the flames like a demon from the depths of hell, was no one else but Katsuki Bakugo.

He turned to face you, a wicked grin spreading across his face as he recognized you. "Well, well, well," he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Look who decided to show up. A little late to the party, aren't we?"

You clenched your fists, your eyes narrowing as you met his gaze. "Bakugo," you spat, taking a defensive stance. "I won't let you continue this reign of terror. This ends tonight. I'm taking you in."

Bakugo laughed, a harsh, mocking sound that sent shivers down your spine. "You really think you can take me down, princess? You're welcome to try, but I promise you, it's not going to end the way you think."

With a sudden burst of speed, Bakugo closed the distance between you, his hand shooting out to grab your wrist. 

You reacted on instinct, twisting away and aiming a punch at his midsection, but he was faster. His grip tightened, and with a flick of his wrist, he sent you crashing to the ground, his body pinning yours.

"You're so predictable," he sneered, his breath hot against your ear. "Always playing by the rules, always so righteous. But you know what, sweetheart? That shit doesn't matter anymore. In this world, power is the only thing that counts."

You struggled beneath him, your heart racing as you tried to free yourself from his grasp. “Let. Me. Go.” 

But Bakugo's strength was overwhelming, his body a solid wall of muscle and raw power. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his voice a low, seductive whisper. "Tell me, little heroine," he murmured, his free hand trailing down your side, "Have you ever wondered what it's like to let go? To stop fighting and just give in?"

You gasped, your body reacting to his touch despite your determination to resist. "Stop," you pleaded, your voice trembling. "This isn't you. You're not a monster. Your mind is just clouded."

He chuckled darkly, his fingers sliding beneath the hem of your costume, teasing the sensitive skin of your tummy. "Oh, but it is me," he said, his eyes burning with a twisted kind of desire. "And deep down, I think you like it. I think you want it."

With a swift motion, he captured your lips in a searing kiss, his dominance overwhelming. 

You fought against the pull, but the intensity of his touch, the raw passion he exuded, was intoxicating. 

His hands roamed your body, setting your nerves alight with every touch. "Feel that?" he murmured against your lips. "That's the real you, begging to be unleashed."

Your resolve wavered, the lines between right and wrong blurring in the heat of the moment. "Bakugo, stop," you pleaded, though your voice lacked conviction.

"Stop?" he taunted, pulling back just enough to meet your gaze. "You don't want me to stop, princess. You want to see just how far this can go."

You knew you should resist, should fight with everything you had, but you simply couldn’t.

Bakugo's lips found your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he continued to speak, his voice a low, hypnotic growl. "Give in, heroine," he urged, his hand moving lower, tracing the curve of your hip. "Let me show you what real power feels like."

You bit your lip, an unwanted moan escaping your lips as his hand found its way between your legs, the rough pads of his fingers brushing against the fabric of your costume on your crotch. 

The sensation was overwhelming, a heady mix of pleasure and resistance that made your head spin. "Bakugo," you whispered, your voice barely more than a breath. "Don’t touch me."

He smiled against your skin, his fingers gently slapping your crotch. "Stop it," he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck to your collarbone. "Don’t be such a prude. We both know you like being used. You whores all do.”

And in that moment, as your body responded to his touch, you realized that you were powerless to resist him. Katsuki Bakugo, the villain you had sworn to stop, was slowly and resolutely tearing down all of your defenses, pulling you into his dark, dangerous world.

"You think you can resist me?" he taunted, his voice a low growl that sent shivers down your spine. "I know you feel it too. That darkness inside you, begging to be set free."

"Bakugo, this isn't right," you protested, shaking your head abruptly.

His smirk widened, a feral glint in his eyes. "Right or wrong doesn't matter now. All that matters is what you want. And I know you want this."

Before you could respond, his lips crashed against yours again, the kiss possessive. 

You tried to fight it once again, but failed. "Bakugo," you gasped when he broke the kiss, his lips trailing down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake.

"Say my name again," he demanded, his voice rough with need. "I want to hear you beg for it."

The command in his tone sent a jolt of primal desire through you, your body betraying your resolve. "Katsuki," you whispered, the name a plea on your lips.

He growled in approval, his hands sliding under your uniform again, fingers tracing the curves of your body. "That's it. Don’t be shy, princess."

In one swift motion, he tore at your clothes, the fabric yielding to his strength. 

The cool night air kissed your exposed skin, but the heat radiating from Bakugo's body kept you warm. 

His touch was relentless, every caress igniting a fire that burned through you. "Look at you," he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. "So eager, so willing. I knew you had it in you. Haha, you just can’t wait to have a villain cock in your cunt."

You gasped as his hands found their way to your panties, his touch both demanding and expertly skilled. 

He captured your lips again, the kiss deep and consuming, stealing the breath from your lungs.

"Bakugo, please," you whimpered after breaking the kiss, the need in your voice undeniable.

He chuckled darkly, his eyes flashing with triumph. "That's what I wanted to hear." With a swift, practiced motion, he lifted you like you weighed nothing, like you were nothing but a rag doll, pressing you against the rough brick wall of the warehouse. 

The sensation of the cool brick against your exposed skin made you whimper. Your breath hitched, your resolve wavering under his piercing stare. "Bakugo, this isn't —"

"Oh, shut the fuck up finally," he interrupted, his lips crashing down on yours to silence you. He smirked against your lips, his fingers tracing teasing circles over the middle of your panties. "You're already so fucking wet for me," he whispered, his voice thick with satisfaction. "I knew you wanted this, little one."

He quickly tugged your panties down your legs, and without thinking much, you helped him take them off completely. A gasp escaped your lips as he pushed a finger inside you, the intrusion both shocking and exhilarating. He finger fucked you while licking the pulse point on your neck with the tip of his tongue, wet trail of his saliva painting your throat. He soon added another digit.

"Bakugo," you moaned, the sound of his name a plea on your lips.

"That's right," he growled, his fingers moving faster, deeper, each thrust stroking all the right places deep within you. "Let me hear you beg for it."

"Bakugo, please," you whimpered, your hands clutching at his shoulders, desperate for more. Even though it all felt wrong and he was only humiliating you.

His smirk widened, a feral gleam in his eyes. "Good little heroine," he murmured, adding another finger, the sensation overwhelming. "Feel that? That's me owning you." His fingers moved with relentless precision, hitting all of the sweet, spongy spots. His calloused thumb brushed over your clit at the same time.

Bakugo cupped your face with his other hand in a mockery of intimacy, his rough digits surprisingly gentle against your skin. His eyelids fluttered closed as he leaned in, the warmth of his breath hitting your cheek as he sniffed you. "Fuck," he murmured, almost to himself, "I could get used to this." 

You smelled so good, sweet and soft and clean — a stark contrast to the chaos that surrounded him daily. It had been so long since he had been this close to a woman, and never one who was willing. The scent of you, the feel of your skin against his, it was intoxicating, a drug he hadn't realized he craved.

Bakugo kissed you again while fingering your tight pussy, the sloppy, wet noises so lewd that, involuntarily, you became wetter than before. 

You hated how your body reacted. 

His tongue swept over the inside of your mouth, invasive and brutal. He gripped you forcefully, his face pushing you deeper into the strained hold. 

You had never been kissed like this before.

Bakugo finally pulled his fingers out of you and dropped to his knees, hitching one of your legs up over his shoulder. The velvety skin of your inner thigh looked so delicious that he nuzzled against the bare area and latched onto it, sucking until he was sure you'd have a mark in a few minutes. The rich, feminine scent of your pussy was inches away from him, intoxicating and irresistible. Bakugo's eyes darkened with desire as he inhaled deeply, dying to make you cum in his needy mouth. Without hesitation, he leaned in, his hot breath ghosting over your slick folds before his tongue darted out, tasting you for the first time. The sensation was electric, his mouth working expertly, eager to draw out every moan, every shiver of pleasure from you. He latched onto your clit, sucking and flicking with a fervor that made your knees weak, his grip on your leg tightening to keep you steady. "Fuck, you taste so good," he murmured against you, the vibration of his voice sending jolts of pleasure through your body. He was relentless, devouring you with a hunger that left you breathless.

“B-Bakugo…”

A sound you’d never heard yourself make before forced its way out of your mouth as Bakugo ate you out in earnest, his tongue rubbing against your clit in a stuttering rhythm that gave you no time to catch your breath. You wanted him to stop. And at the same time, you never wanted him to stop. Your hands twitched as you fought the impulse to fist them in the villain’s hair and pin him down between your trembling thighs. His tongue felt so, so good against your pussy. You had never been with a man who was that skilled in pleasuring a woman.

Bakugo curled one arm around your thigh, pulling his face away from your cunny just long enough to push his fingers back into your drenched hole, angling his palm to grind the heel of his hand roughly over your clit. The harsh, rough texture after the warm, wet softness of his tongue was enough to push you over the edge. You cried out your orgasm, your pussy clenching onto Bakugo's fingers as he worked them in and out of you.

"Fuck, that’s it, you little, pathetic whore, cum for me now or I'll have to blow your fucking useless head out," he growled, his voice vibrating through you as he rubbed the bulge tenting in his pants roughly with his free hand. His eyes were dark with desire, watching you come undone. Bakugo groaned, his breath hot against your sensitive flesh, before attaching his mouth to your pussy again. He drank in all of your juices, his tongue lapping up every drop of your essence as if he couldn’t get enough.  

You just came on the tongue of a villain. 

Bakugo looked up at you, a smirk playing on his lips, his chin glistening with your release. "You taste even better than I imagined," he said, his voice low and rough. 

Your legs felt weak, barely able to support you as the reality of what had just happened sank in. You felt oh so humiliated, but a part of you couldn't ignore the raw, undeniable pleasure that Bakugo had drawn from you.

He got back to his feet, and whispered against your ear. "Admit that you want me to fuck you right here, right now."

"Yes," you breathed, the word a desperate plea.

He didn't need any more encouragement. With a growl, he freed himself from his fitted combat pants, his cock sprung up free, resting proudly against his toned abdomen; the aggressive, red tip leaking precum from its slit. He positioned himself at your slimy entrance, the anticipation almost too much to bear. "You're mine," he declared, his voice thick with possessive hunger. “You’re nothing but a tiny hole I’m going to use however I please. You’re fucking nothing but a piece of meat.”

With a powerful thrust, he entered you, the sensation tearing a gasp from your lips. The feeling of him inside you, filling you completely, was intoxicating. He moved with a fierce rhythm, his heavy balls slapping against your pussy with every rough thrust he delivered. He yanked one of your legs up, wrapping it around his hips to find the better angle.

He could hardly think of anything aside from the soft, hot, wet cunt wrapped so tightly around his dick. It consumed his every thought, his every desire. He wanted to live inside your pussy, to fuck your warmth every day, every minute. The feeling of fucking you raw was the best he had felt in months, a primal satisfaction that eclipsed everything else.

"Bakugo," you moaned, your hands clinging to his shoulders for support.

"That's right," he growled, his pace relentless as he hardly squeezed your boob through your sports bra. "Scream my name. Let everyone know who you belong to."

“K-Katsuki!”

The world around you dissolved into a haze of pleasure and desire, the only reality was the feeling of Bakugo claiming you, possessing you completely. His hands gripped your hips, guiding you to meet his thrusts, his breath hot against your skin.

The warehouse was a chaos of fire and smoke, the heat from the flames slowly licking at your skin, but the inferno around you was nothing compared to the blaze between you and Bakugo. The firelight cast an eerie glow over his face, highlighting the intense, almost feral desire in his eyes.

“Such a good whore, taking my cock in her tight little pussy so fucking well,” Bakugo praised, licking a stripe of your neck, growling lowly into your ear.

You clung to him, your nails digging into his shoulders as he pounded into you, each thrust pushing you harder against the wall. The rough brick scraped your back.

Every nerve ending was on fire, the sensation of him inside you overwhelming. 

"That's it," he growled, his pace increasing, the friction of his body against yours driving you wild. “That’s it, whore.”

You gasped at the insult, your leg tightening around his hips, pulling him deeper.

He angled his hips, hitting the sweetest spot inside you that made stars burst behind your eyes with the tip of his massive cock. "Right there," he murmured, his voice rough with satisfaction. "I can feel you clenching around me. That’s a good, little heroic whore.”

You nodded frantically, your breath coming in ragged gasps whenever the tip of his cock kissed your cervix. 

"Bakugo!" you screamed, raking your nails along his shoulders even though they were still covered by the upper part of his gear.

He swirled two fingers against your clit after slipping the hand that had cupped your boob earlier down to your slick pussy. 

You mewled like a kitten at the unexpected stimulation, and he laughed rudely.

"Fuck, that's it," he groaned, his movements becoming more erratic as he chased his own release. With a final, powerful thrust, he buried himself as deep inside you as possible, his cock pulsing and swelling as he came, filling you with his hot, thick release. “Fuck, take it, take it all, bitch.”

Your climax built rapidly as well. Your body tensed, the coil of pleasure tightening until it finally snapped when he came inside of you. With a cry of his name, you shattered, the pleasure overwhelming, consuming you utterly for the second time this evening. Your body convulsed around him, your pussy clenching and milking his veiny cock as he continued to pound into you. “Bakugo!”

“That’s it, little one, that’s it,” Bakugo cooed, his thrust sloppy until he stopped moving. He held you there for a moment. The slurping sound that reverberated in the air as his cock partially left your drenched pussy was obscene. Equally obscene was the cloudy trail of mixed white and clear fluid that connected your pussy and the head of his cock until he pulled away fully. His rough hands were still gripping your hips as he watched with a wry grin how his cum dribbled out of your abused pussy.

"You're fucking mine," he whispered, his voice a rough promise. "There's no place you could possibly hide from me," he whispered. "I'll find you anywhere, little heroine. You are mine, and no one else, nor any other thing, will ever change that."

When clouds of primal lust faded away, clearing your mind a little, the humiliation hit you like a heavy hammer, threatening to crush you under its weight. You fought the urge to cry, the stress and fear coursing through you like a tidal wave. You couldn't tear up like a baby in front of him, couldn't show any sign of weakness. Even though you already did.

Frantically, you looked around for your panties, your heart pounding in your chest as you tried to improve the upper part of your hero costume that was practically torn in half. But before you could find them, his low, mocking laugh reached your ears. You raised your head slowly, your cheeks burning with embarrassment, as you saw him toying with them in his hand, a smirk playing on his lips.

"You looking for these?" he taunted, holding them just out of reach. "You should know better by now. Everything that touches you belongs to me too." He sniffed your panties, and then theatrically licked the damp spot in the middle with his tongue, making you shudder involuntarily. His grin widened at your reaction, a cruel satisfaction evident in his eyes. After wiping his cock with your panties, he tucked them into the pocket of his pants, adjusting his trousers shortly after with a nonchalant flick of his wrist. "I'll keep these as a little souvenir," he announced.

Bakugo took a step closer to you, his presence overwhelming as he helped you adjust your own pants. "Now, go," he whispered, his voice low and commanding. "Run to them and tell them that not only did you fail to stop and capture the infamous villain, but also moaned like a cheap whore when his cock was buried to the hilt in your wet pussy. I'm super curious about their reaction."

With a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, you nodded numbly, unable to form a proper sentence after you pulled up what was left of your hero pants. You turned around and walked away with a shaky step as you prepared to face the consequences of your failure.

[carooosa]

Pleasurable Feelings

Word count: 900 Rating: Explicit Pairing: Astarion x Tav/Reader Warnings: 18+, mutual masturbation, soft dom Astarion AO3 link: Pleasurable Feelings

Summary: After the tiefling party, you're pent up and decide to please yourself, not aware of the vampire that lurks nearby.

It had been a few days after the tiefling party – a few days after your night with Astarion. He had always made flirtatious remarks here and there, but after that night those remarks seemed to multiply tenfold. He would find ways to subtly touch your back or whisper sweet nothings into your ear. 

His new attention to you had spurred mixed feelings to develop. You convinced yourself that you were merely still aroused by that night and needed to let off some steam. After that, you would surely get over this little crush you had. You waited until nightfall and the rest of your companions had fallen asleep. Astarion had fed on some bandits earlier today, so surely he wouldn’t need to feed on you tonight. 

As you settle on your bedroll, you think back to that night with Astarion. How he had pleased your body. He had treated you like royalty, catering to your every need. Whenever you would try to please him, he had brushed you off. He said that the night was all about you and that you could take care of him at another time. 

You weren’t sure when exactly there would be free time for another midnight rendezvous, and quite frankly you weren’t sure having another would bode well with your complicated feelings. So, you resolve to take care of yourself. You begin masturbating, thinking of his hands on your body, his voice in your ear. And his scent, his lovely scent. You feel as if you can smell it clearly now, enveloping your senses as you moan your lover's name.

“Yes, love?” Astarion says with a smirk on his face as he stands at the entrance to your tent. 

Your eyes jolt open. You can’t even begin to imagine how utterly debauched you look to him, your clothes flung off to the side and your underwear at your ankles. Your bra is pushed off to the side as you grasp your breast in one hand, the other hand stimulating your clit while curling two of your fingers inside you. Sweat is dripping down your body and your tent is suffocating with the scent of your arousal.

“No need to stop for me,” Astarion says as he saunters over to you. There’s a mischievous look in his eyes that causes a rush of heat to pool in your core. You stay still, unsure of his intentions. He tuts, “You need to finish what you’ve started.” He kneels beside you as one of his hands works its way over to your hand that’s still inside you, before gently placing his hand over yours. He pushes your fingers deeper inside and you let out a moan.

He begins to pump both your fingers and his inside of you. He leans down toward your chest to place soft kisses over your body, nipping at your skin in between each kiss. He slowly moves his way up to your bare breast and begins to lick the nipple. You buck your hips forward, and he growls, pushing you back down onto your bedroll. He sucks on your nipple, staring directly into your eyes.

“Keep touching yourself, my love,” he projects into your mind with the tadpole. 

You shakily start to grope your other breast again, breathy moans escaping you. He lightly bites down on the tit in his mouth, his tongue flicking your nipple at the same time. You feel yourself on the precipice right as he quickly moves away from you. 

“Keep going,” he commands. You continue to touch your body as you watch him hastily strip off his trousers and boxers, his length fully erect from helping you please yourself. He kneels back down beside you, grasping his cock in his hands. 

He begins to pump. “Look me in the eyes, Tav.” You stare at his cock, transfixed at the way he’s furiously tugging, watching as precum beads at the tip. 

“I said, look me in the eyes,” he growls, his voice slightly strained. You quickly glance up at him, panting heavily as you begin to reach your peak again. As your legs shake, your eyes automatically close. You feel and hear Astarion move on top of you, straddling your stomach. He presses his forehead into yours as he commands, yet again. 

“Look me in the eyes when you cum. Think only of me as your ecstasy overwhelms you.” 

With what little concentration you can muster, you open your eyes right as your body releases. You’re gasping for air, and Astarion takes that as a chance to shove his tongue into your mouth, kissing you passionately as he tightens his grip on his cock, pumping faster than before. His free hand finds your breast and he pinches your sensitive nipple. You moan into his mouth and buck your hips up, pushing him over the edge. His kissing slows as he cums over your body. When he’s done, he releases your mouth with a sigh. 

“Good Tav,” he whispers as he kisses your ear lobe. You can’t help but whimper, knowing full well that this exchange has only complicated your feelings towards the vampire even more.

[thisthatpinkvenom]

*SHHH!*

COLLEGE BF!SAN / COLLEGE!FEM READER

⤏ Synopsis: You and your boyfriend are two irresponsible college students who just can't keep your hands to innocent hand-holding. and there seems to be a really pretty witness to your intimate shenanigans.

⤏ Genre(s): drabble*, smut smut smut

⤏ Content: college couple!au, established relationship!au, non-idol!au

⤏ NSFW Warning(s): public fingering, public oral, light dirty talk, light praising because it's always cute <3, getting caught in the act, exhibitionism and voyeurism, these two are freaks please don't do this in real life!!

⤏ Note*: this content is completely fictional.

It was on you for foolishly choosing such a discreet spot where other eyes weren't lurking. You should've known better than to trust San to behave himself at a secluded corner of the library. If it weren't for that, you wouldn't be plopped onto the edge of the quaint little desk with him standing between your parted legs.

It's a Thursday evening, and the library was decently occupied; many were huddled in groups with a few exceptions of lone students staring with half-dead eyes at their laptop screens. Soft murmurs and not so subtle crunching on baby carrots aired throughout the building, and you prayed to any divine being listening that your staggering breaths fell on deaf ears. The last time you checked, it was around six o'clock and with the two very much so distracting fingers lunged between your wet walls, you're sure you wouldn't get anything done by the time it became seven.

Bursts of adrenaline rushed through your veins as you teetered on a thin line between fear and pleasure. You didn't even register how you've crinkled a page of the textbook lying open next to you—the one you've tried so hard to keep without damage—as your hand desperately searched for purchase in anything nearby. Your eyes flitted between the view of your lover's hand disappearing at every two beats under your skirt and nervously checking behind his shoulder for any innocent incoming passerby looking for a book. But it lasted only a measly moment until you were gently pulled by your chin, meeting eyes with the lust-filled ones of your boyfriend who pierced you with his gaze.

"Eyes on me, Baby," he coaxed, pressing kisses to both corners of your lips with cute little chu sounds emitting from each one he gave. The hand on your chin fell to your thigh and you momentarily shuddered at his cold touch.

"What if"—you squeaked when his thumb pressed against your clit—"someone, hah, s-sees?"

He smiled a wolfish grin and muttered, "Then wouldn't that be a sight for sore eyes?"

"Sannie," you whined. "It's n-not funny."

"Don't worry, no one's gonna know as long as you keep those pretty little moans to a minimum."

And you wondered how you were supposed to do that when he soon dove into the crook of your neck, licking and nibbling at your skin in hope of leaving a trail of purple and red petals. His fingers never slowed or lost their rhythm, opting to only go faster while your arousal grew embarrassingly louder. You could feel it dripping more and more with each pull of his digits before they sloppily stuffed whatever they could back in.

"You think they can hear that?" he teased, fingers playing around with the wet squelches of your juices through hasty "come hither" motions. "Don't pretend like you don't get off on this just like I do."

He continued, "I know you like spreading your legs for me whenever I ask—you do it so easily."

"S-Sannie, please," you pleaded. You weren't too sure what you were asking for, but you knew he always managed to understand what you needed somehow.

"I know, Baby," he cooed. "Just a little more, okay? You're doing so well."

And just like that, he dropped to his knees and nudged your thigh with his free hand. You knew what he was going to do and clenched your teeth to prepare when—without warning—he attached his lips to your painfully swollen clit. It took all you could muster to not release the most pathetic cry when you took in all the books around you, remembering where you were as you had to be on your best behavior possible. Which in hindsight, it was a little too late to do much when you've got your fingers tangled in a handful of black hair.

His fingers continuously pumped in and out your pussy and his mouth was relentless on your clit, sucking and licking without any other goal but to please you. Though it proved to be difficult to let loose; you couldn't lie back on the table or moan without shame, not when you caught sight of a book being pulled off the shelf from the other side. And your heart fluttered when a face appeared behind the vacant space where the book once was, your own eyes mirroring how the stranger's tripled in size. Even if she wanted to, she couldn't look away from the image of you trembling on the desk, cheeks drenched in tears as your lover's identity was veiled under your skirt, clueless as to who's watching.

It's useless to stop now, there's a fat chance you'll get reprimanded but at least you'll have a mind-blowing orgasm to make up for it. If you were in the right mind, you would've scolded yourself for acting upon your urges; for exposing your dirty deeds to some poor girl. And now she'll know exactly what you look like when you cum, from the way you bit your tongue to conceal your moans and the way your chest heaved while you worked to catch your own breath. But oh, what's that?

She gnawed at her bottom lip, ogling as if she were in a trance, seemingly waiting for you to reach climax. And you liked it.

It was all too much; your boyfriend's face and fingers buried between your legs and the pretty girl perving on your intimacy did all sorts of things to your head. It was coming, you were so close, so close, so close. You were an attention whore, like it or not; you wanted her to watch—watch your legs quiver and your mouth gape open in a silent scream, your gaze boring deep into hers.

You really wanted her to absorb the view, hoping that she found the cum glazed over your pussy pretty. And like the freak you were, you liked the way her cheeks were adorned with pink when San stood up, his lips glistening under the fluorescent lighting as he sucked on his cum-covered fingers. When he caught sight of the extra lingering eyes, she finally turned around, covering the empty gap in the shelf from her suspecting groupmates who quietly pestered her with questions as to what she was staring at. He looked back at you with a smug grin, tongue slipping out to lick your arousal from his lips.

"Looks like someone's been enjoying this too."

[saintslewis]

“𝐂𝐔𝐅𝐅 𝐈𝐓”

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

˖ ࣪⭑ pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc

˖ ࣪⭑ summary: didn’t lewis say he’s a professional dancer? let’s test it out!

˖ ࣪⭑ warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions (the norm), links to posts, typos

˖ ࣪⭑ wc: 4.7k

˖ ࣪⭑ saint’s team radio!: hi babies….SORRY Y’ALL LMAO. i clearly skipped the 10 day mark but that’s okay! that’s why i made it longer for y’all to enjoy! I hope you enjoy and once again, tags are down below and let me know if you want to be tagged! and pls do click on the links to see the visuals, it’s important! (you can do it after)

pls like, comment and reblog!

renaissance:the series masterlist • previous chapter

general masterlist

-

The FaceTime ring chimed as Nadia adjusted her phone on the dashboard of her car, her cradled body in the driver's seat as she sniffled and wiped her tears with the back of her hand.

"Yo. What's-" Lewis made sure to look at his phone correctly to see the sight before him. "Nads? Are you okay? Where are you?" Lewis asked, slowing the car down a bit.

"I'm in the school parking lot with some pastries next to me." She sniffed again before continuing. "Like I don't know if I can even go in there after our posts because those kids are ruthless and also these pastries are so good and this car is giving me so much stress and you're so pretty and i can't get raye tickets and this wig didn't wanna lay this morning and jeez, it's just so much and i'm just a girl." Nadia rambled as she hid her face in her hands, not even looking at her phone.

"Sorry to call you so early but I had no one else to call so I just decided to call my husband. Do you wanna see the pastries? This girl gave them to me for free in the bakery." She spoke, tucking her hair behind her ear and grabbing the pink box to show Lewis, not missing how big his smile was.

"What?"

"Nads, do you wanna talk about it? There's a lot to unpack." He asked, his face holding a smug expression as he watched her place the box down and give him a look.

"No thanks, we can keep everything in the bag. Anyways, I'm the only one in the parking lot and I've got a class in 25 minutes but I don't wanna see my colleagues." She said, looking out of her window to see if anyone was lurking around. "Where you headed?" She snapped her attention back to him.

"Brackley. Got a meeting with the team for upgrades." He said, eventually speeding up the car and she nodded. "Okay don't go quiet on me. Have you checked your socials yet?" Lewis asked the girl. "Nope, I muted the app after Rihanna called me sexy." She replied with a big smile on her face, making him jokingly roll his eyes. "I'm assuming you did the same?" She asked and it was his turn to nod.

"So just to make you aware, I'm free on Wednesday after 12 so if your friends are available maybe we can meet them then?" Nadia suggested, packing her stuff up as she sat properly in the car seat. "Uh I'm sure they'll be cool with that. We can have a thing at my place, like a game night or something. Also why are you leaving work early that day?" He asked, stopping at a red light and put all his attention on her.

"School's are closing for like two weeks." She answered.

"Well then, have you ever been to Miami?"

"No..." she gave him a side eye as he continued to drive, the engine roaring.

"Well, we're going there next week for the Grand Prix so do you want to go? Then afterwards we leave for Malibu."

"But what if I wanted to watch Love Island during that weekend?" She muttered, making the man giggle.

"You can watch Love Island in Miami." He smiled, seeing her jokingly roll her eyes. "Fine. But wait, who do I need to speak to for like flight tickets and race stuff?" She mentioned.

"Tia'll have everything ready." He assured her, kind of surprised at how willingly she agreed to his proposal, something he had been nervously thinking about the whole morning.

"Alright then, pookie bear. Talk later, I have to face those ruthless critics i call my kids." She picked up her phone and did a little pose, to which Lewis didn't hesitate to take a Facetime photo of. They both waved at each other cutely before hanging up.

"You're the flyest babe on the planet, you can do this." Nadia hyped herself as she gathered her things and got out of her car.

The hallways were empty, the silence gnawing at her as she glanced through some doors to see students either sleeping on their desks or actually focused on what the teacher was saying.

Continuously taking deep breaths as she got closer and closer to her designated classroom, she could hear her Year 12 students talking about whatever gossip was going around the school. Goosebumps slightly covered her skin as she held her arm out to touch the door handle, her conscience screaming at her to turn around and drive home just to stress about this very situation.

Eventually gaining the confidence, she opened the door and it was as if the world stood still. All her students turned around to look at their frightened yet fashionable teacher slowly walk to her desk as she tried her hardest to not make any eye contact with their smug faces.

Placing her things down onto her little shelf next to her organised desk, she flipped her hair a little and walked to the front of her desk, leaning her whole body weight against it.

"Now before you lot start with your questions, just know I wasn't ready to be out there yet and truly, I wanted to tell you guys a while ago but now was a good time for the..launch." She announced and watched as her students continued to smirk at her, her heartbeat rising as the silence grew more and more.

"Can we see the ring?" A student, Daniela, asked loudly as she walked closer to her teacher. The minute Nadia extended her shaky hand out, they all came flocking to get a closer look at the diamond ring.

Eventually settling the class down with the fear that the Headmaster could just pop in, everyone was seated as Nadia was racking her brain on how she could sell this marriage to teenagers who could definitely see right through her.

"So how did you two meet then? You mentioned that you were from Stevenage like a while back." Vicky, the class leader, asked sitting in the front row and maintained eye contact with Nadia the whole time.

"Well it was our parents actually. They're all really close but Lewis and I never built that bond for all these years. It took a dinner invite from his parents for us to really fancy each other. We properly met the year I started teaching here." Nadia was cheesing, proud of the story she came up with that was half-true.

She could tell that their gears were turning in their heads, making comments to each other as if they were judges on a panel. Nadia hadn't expected the silence that would follow after each of her answers but it was quite unsettling.

"Since you said you weren't seeing anybody and you weren't the least bit interested in Formula one, how'd you end up with thee Sir Lewis Hamilton?" One of her male students asked from the back, Nathan. "I'm still very clueless about that sport and that's why I wanted you guys to teach me today. Can I count on you guys to help?" Nadia asked, pulling her chair closer to her desk as she clasped her hands together to look around her classroom to capture all the excited faces.

"James, where's the slideshow?!" "Ha! Give me my money." "We used to pray for times like this!" "Wait till Miss hears about brocedes!"

Those were amongst the shouts from her students, reminding her that she couldn't leave them alone even if she wanted.

Interrupting her train of thought as her students scrambled around the classroom, her phone buzzed with two notifications following each other. Opening her phone and heading for iMessages, she audibly gasped when she saw what Lewis had just sent her.

"What are you blushing at, Miss?" A kid pointed out, Nadia not even realising she was smiling quite hard at her phone.

"Do you want to teach me about F1 or should we go back to the French Revolution?" She sassed, making the class groan as they all somewhat surrounded a desk and whiteboard for her F1 lesson.

-

WEDNESDAY.

Holding the tub of cookies close to her, she thought back to the previous days and what her students informed her about the sport. As much as she can admit that she had forgotten most things they told her, a few thoughts lingered in her mind throughout the days, her emotions were on all time high for the man she married. Not wanting to come to one sided conclusions, Nadia decided to address these issues with Lewis when the time was right.

It doesn't help that she, once again, went down a rabbit hole of Lewis to see what his fans were like and how they thought of him from their perspective.

A knock from her front door snapping her out of her head, standing to open it up. Lewis stood there dressed ever so casually with a graphic tee and shorts paired with high top Jordans. Nadia would never say it out loud but seeing him wearing a cap, be it in a picture or right in front of her, brought slight butterflies to her stomach.

"The person who handles security downstairs is really looking out for you. Also, hello Nads." He smiled as he brought his hands forward to show a pink box with croissants inside, Nadia's heart melting, he remembered that she said she likes this specific bakery when they first met.

"Lewis, you didn't have to. Thank you." She said patting him on his exposed arm, wanting to keep her hand there for a little longer. "Hello to you too. Why do you say that about the guards?" She asked, taking the box of pastries from his hand and cradling it close to her, walking into her small kitchen to place them next to the flowers from the weekend.

"Well, when I drove in, he warned me about all the people who came to the entrance overnight. Apparently, they would go from building to building looking...for you." He said, slowly closing the front door as he walked into her home.

The goosebumps were very evident, her tattoos eerily coming to life with fear. "O-oh. Tia did warn me about this, just never expected this so early on." Nadia nervously smiled, the multiple locks on her door not enough to make her feel safe. "Hey hey, it's okay. I know this is overwhelming. Would you be more comfortable with a few of my security guys to be around until you make your moving decisions?" He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder. Seeing how scared she was and how she seemed to be overthinking it, he desperately wanted to change the subject.

Choosing to not answer verbally, she nodded and gave the man a small smile as she lifted herself off her kitchen counter. "Let's get the negatives out," Nadia sighed out. "Let me get my shoes and phone then we can get to your place in time. You can wait on the couch for now." She turned around, looking straight  ahead as she headed for her bedroom.

Taking the invitation, Lewis made his way to the comfortable looking grey couch. Beneath his feet sat a custom carpet in the shape of the infamous Murakami flower logo, a small smile etched on his face. The living room filled with all types of scented candles and incense sticks, two plants on either side of the tv stand. A full length mirror hung on the wall right in between the kitchen and living room, the arch of it filled with star stickers. A few vinyls were plastered onto the wall behind him with something written underneath each one and a custom piece of art sat in between the black discs, a painted picture of two people hugging with matching NY caps on. The little signature at the bottom spelling out 'Rea' and tiny initials signing 'R + N'.

Oh, the guilt sunk in quite quickly in those few moments as he observed a small part of her home. That's exactly what it was to Nadia, her home. Purely hers. Everything in his sight clearly held a special significance to the woman and because of his situations, he was taking that away from her. Her 'best teacher' pillows sat neatly on the couch, definitely gifted to her by her students that she loved. The picture frames and polaroids sat nicely on the side table, Nadia's smile wide and bright as she had stood with family and posed wildly with her friends.

His scandalous decisions had roped in a woman who looked like she had finally found her own way in life and he was taking that away from her. Everything she had worked for would be reduced to just being known as his wife. The thought making him cringe as he could picture the headlines.

Nadia fixed her shoelaces quickly as she found Lewis sitting on her couch staring at nothing, his arm sat high on the edge of the couch. "Lew? Are you okay?" The woman's soft voice went into his ear, his head turning to see her ready to go. The Barcelona jersey untucked, her jean shorts displaying the very few tattoos she had on her legs and the gold anklet contrasting with the stark white appearance of her Air forces.

"I know we're about to leave but do you mind if we talk a bit?" He asked, sitting on the edge of the couch and clasping his hands together. "What? You about to divorce me already?" Nadia joked but seeing him give the smallest smile only for it to fade away slightly scared her. Going to sit next to him, she sat one of her pillows over her lap and leaned on her elbows to hear what he had to say.

"Are you truly sure about this marriage? I feel like everything's just hitting you all at once and I feel bad. It feels as if I'm taking away your independence all because of stupid things people have said about me. I looked around and you already made a life for yourself and I don't want to do anything to hurt you." Lewis confessed, hands constantly fidgeting with the rings he had on. He was so sure that he would see her agree with him but seeing her downward smile surprised him.

"We already signed the papers, Lew, and it's going to sting you like a bee if we even think of letting this go. From my perspective, we're two people who are building a friendship who just happen to be married. I still am anxious about leaving my life behind but one thing I won't allow for myself is to be deduced to be someone's wife, no offence." She stated, seeing him nod.

Breathing in a little before continuing, she sat a bit comfortably on the couch facing him. "This is a very weird situation, one that not a lot of people go through but we're learning and that's the cool part. You and I have lived incredibly different lives and there's a reason why our lives are intertwining so much. I just ask for some time to figure out how to live in the limelight, right now I'm grateful for the journey. Except for the ysl heels, those bitches are uncomfortable." Nadia laughed a little, ending her sentence with a joke. He giggled along, his eyes crinkling with the left eye closing a bit more than the other. It was such an adorable sight to see.

"I appericiate the honesty, Nads. It's something that's been on my mind for quite some time and to hear you voice it out lifts some weight off my shoulders." Lewis chuckled, the sight of her smile was one he wanted to keep in his mind forever.

"Glad I could help, pookie bear. Tell me, do your friends like cookies? I made a bunch yesterday because I was stress baking." She asked, standing up and walking towards the kitchen. The nickname clearly sticking to him but he didn't mind, it was special.

"It would be weird if they did not like cookies. They smell good too." He complimented, unconsciously jingling the car keys in his hands. "Thank you, also made them vegan friendly." Nadia smiled, picking up the plastic tub and headed for the front door. Lewis couldn't control his eyes as they fell to her retreating figure, little peaks of more tattoos showed under the hems of her shorts. Taking a breath in, he walked towards her as she fiddled with her keys with the front door open.

-

"Oh my god, Tia sent a list of people she picked out for my team." Nadia gasped, tugging on the red seatbelt of the Range Rover a bit while going through her texts with Tia to see random faces with all their details laid on text.

"Really? That was fast." He said, one hand on the steering wheel with the other resting on his leg. He turned into an avenue, the car's engine roaring through the quiet street as they passed by homes that were hidden behind large gates and trees.

The pair spent the whole 35 minute journey just jamming out to their scarily similar music taste and getting a few snacks for the game night that'll be held, Nadia not realising that she's actually becoming famous because multiple people recognised her and asked for pictures. Once she got back into the SUV, she laughed about the situation until tears came out.

"They all look around my age or a bit younger, oh this is some scary shit." She joked as she looked through everyone's photos, to which Tia then said that Nadia will meet everyone in Miami before Lewis' media duties.

"And when are you meeting them?" Lewis asked, slowing the car down and turning into a driveway before stopping in front of the large gate. "Miami" She muttered. Pressing a button somewhere, the gates opened to quite the driveway with the motor court right in front of the large modern home. The beat of the song completely changed as the house came into view, Nadia taken aback at the visuals in front of her and she completely understood why the trees were hiding such a masterpiece behind them.

In the motor court, there stood a black Mercedes Benz amg gle coupe and an arctic grey Porsche 992 Turbo S outside of the garage looking fresh out the dealership. "My God..." Nadia muttered as she covered her mouth at everything she was seeing. Lewis definitely loved seeing Nadia astonished and excited at everything he's shown her so far.

Parking the Range Rover next to the Porsche, the two got out of the car and grabbed their belongings along with the snacks they bought earlier. "Is anyone else here yet?" She asked, only carrying her tub of cookies whilst Lewis carried everything else.

"Nope, just us. Was thinking of showing you around the house, just to get used to it." He smiled and slightly giggled at the side eye she gave him. "Now now, pookie bear. I still have to decide. But let's put the stuff inside." She smiled at him and watched as he opened the door with his fingerprint.

The moment she entered the massive house, her breath was taken away by the beauty of the foyer alone.

"So which floor do you wanna start with?" He asked, leading her into the living area, the kitchen space looking like it came out straight from the magazine. Looking to her left, she looked at the abnormally large garden with so many chill spots and what looked to be a tennis court.

"And this is all yours?" Nadia was stunned to say the least. The amount of luxury surrounding her was staggering and she wanted to hide within herself, scared to even comment until Lewis answered her question.

"Well, it's ours now that we signed on the dotted line."

And it's safe to say that the cookies surprisingly weren't dropped onto the floor.

-

Walking outside the home to marvel at the creation before her, Lewis followed right behind and watched her take it all in. "Are you able to take one more surprise? I think the closet did it for you." He grinned. His hands were behind his back as always and she looked back at him with a smile.

"You've done so much for me already, Lew. What could possibly top the Harrods trip." She asked, hands on hips while slightly joking. His smile grew even more as the butterflies in his stomach reacted to the nickname.

"How about a car? Would that be better than Harrods?" He asked, mischievously putting his finger on his chin as if he's thinking. Nadia's eyes widened for the upteenth time, her hands flying to cover her mouth.

"Are you fucking with me right now? Lewis, I swear if you're joking, I'm going to kick you in the ass." She exclaimed as the man held out different keys in his hand, the smile never leaving his face.

"Lewis whatever your middle name is Hamilton, are you serious? I'm going to fucking cry, oh my god." Nadia's voice was already quivering but she refused for her tears to fall.

"Wait no don't, you said that they would ruin your lashes." Lewis genuinely wanted to laugh at her reaction but he felt so happy that he could do this for her and hopefully get her used to it.

"First it was the Raye tickets then the croissants then an entire car? Not to mention the new shit I got. Oh this is gonna be so fun." Finally uncovering her mouth, they both smiled at each other then laughed. "Let's go look at it, Nads, before everyone gets here." He suggested and like lightning, the girl was already standing next to the car and was eagerly waiting for it to open.

-

"My God, Lewis! You didn't tell me she was so beautiful. Like crazy beautiful." Currently, Nadia was being cradled in the arms of one of Lewis' closest friends, Amara.

Standing in the entryway of the house, everyone exchanged greetings and hugs as the friend group hadn't seen each other in a long time. Moments before, the pair watched as cars rolled in the motor way as each of his friends climbed out of their cars hyped as ever, carrying different things in their hands.

" 'Mara, if i could kindly have Nads back, I can finally introduce you guys." Lewis jokingly rolled his eyes at his friend who didn't want to let go but eventually did.

"Guys, this is Nadia. Nads, this is my crew. We've got Miles," He pointed at the tall man with the brightest smile she's ever seen. "Amara, who's cradled you just now," The woman waved to Nads who definitely returned the energy.

"Charlotte, who threatened to sue if she didn't meet you," Lewis then pointed to the woman standing next to Amara, she was as stunning as ever. "Daniel or 'Spinz' if you will." Another man smiled at her, tilting his cap like a cowboy. "Andrew, and right next to him is Natalia." He ended off by pointing at the two right next to Daniel.

"Nice to meet you all, I'm Nadia as you know." She shyly greeted back, never the one to introduce herself as much. Everyone spoke at the time, patching the words together to say that they're delighted to meet her.

"Uh, we've got snacks in the kitchen and the games are set up in the living room already." Nadia suggested as she pointed behind her, not even realising that Lewis' arm was around her shoulders the whole time.

"Oh please lead the way." Natalia piped up as walked over to hold Nadia's hand and walk to the kitchen, the rest of the woman following suit and immediately started complimenting the woman.

Deciding that they would tell their friend groups the truth about their marriage, Nadia and Lewis happily agreed to their plan and it most definitely seemed to work.

"God damn, your parents chose good, man. The Barcelona jersey and she's just a teacher? Can your parents hook me up because damn." Daniel spoke up, shocked at Nadia's appearance knowing that his friend barely explained how she looks.

"And don't even get me started on the tattoos, Spinz. I'll call my dad for you though!" Lewis laughed as he walked away, the rest of his mates laughing, walking towards the living area.

An hour into the game night, Nadia and Lewis had won both boards games, celebrating as if their favourite team won the league. The atmosphere was light, conversations flowing as music played in the background, well that was until 'Love Is Wicked' by Brick and Lace started playing and that's when the nostalgia hit.

It was as if everyone lost their minds, immediately clearing the space to dance. Somehow, Lewis and Nadia found sunglasses and started dancing together. Amara being the friend who films everything, filmed the two having the time of their lives. Lewis trying to copy her dance moves whilst they both sung incoherent lyrics to the song, laughter spreading while the songs played out loud.

The song switched to 'Work' by Rihanna and the girls went crazy. Moving the party to the outside porch for fresh air and more space, the well light outside lights lit quite well. The girls were moving the hips to the beat, shaking ass nah chance they get. Nadia being the dancer here, just wowed the girls even more, hyping her up so much that the boys included themselves in the dance and they eventually created an unforgettable night hanging out and laughing until the moon rose.

"So, how was it?" Lewis asked, laying next to Nadia on a blanket on the grass. The rest of the crew were laying on the other blankets across the large backyard, resting after an intense game of hide n seek. "I haven't had this much fun in quite a while. It felt nice to feel like kids, just having a good time. Once again, thank you. For this, the Porsche that i still can't believe is mine, even the ring that I stare at all day." Nadia expressed, lifting her hand to look at the ring once more.

"If you need or want anything, don't hesitate to let me know and I'm very serious, Nadia." Lewis said, turning his head to see her staring up at the night sky.

"You're bluffing." She scoffed until she turned to see his face, a raised eyebrow as he stared at her. "Anything?" She asked.

"Anything." He scrunched his nose a little, the diamond studs glistening under the moonlight.

"New wig? With a new bracelet?" She turned her entire body to face him, leaning her head in her hand.

"Done." He smiled. "Although that was severely underwhelming, bruv." He said, turning on his back once.

The two shared a loud laugh afterwards, their laughs travelling to the moon that watch over them.

-

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(if your blog is blank, that means tumblr couldn’t find you! :( I’m sorry!)

dividers by: @cafekitsune

pics: pinterest and ig

Nadia’s fc: @/unclewaffles on ig!

[biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer]

Heya! Hope you're drinking plenty of water and getting enough sleep :3

I was wondering if you could do romantic headcannons for Geo as a Yandere? If not, then that's alright! Feel free to ignore this ask if you don't feel comfy writing it dw :D

Geo my love *smooches his cheek lovingly*

Besotted (Yandere! Geo x MC/Reader)

Guess who respawned after a month or so, anyway my hyperfixation ended and I'm trying to cook again

CAN I GET ENCOURAGEMENT TO CONTINUE PUHLEASE I'M A SKRUNKLED BOOGER HERE RAARARARARARRA

Also. Darling Anon. Geo is mine. I am prepared to fight.

- Signed by biggest-geo-oogami-enjoyer

Besotted: strongly infatuated.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

Geo knew all too well how illegal this was.

Not that he cared, you were significantly more invaluable, indelible, incredible. You were an idealists’ biggest dream, an optimists’ highest regard, an opportunists’ greatest catch.

Geo knew better than to relent his firm grip on you, he’d do anything if it meant he could have you to himself, all to himself. A love so fiery it razed the chill of his masks, his endless facades and cold numbing scars. You torched away the husk that rendered him empty and bitter, ravaging his fortress walls and citadel gates, barging through his offences and placing your flag upon his heart.

You were a saint to him. The most ethereal of them all, the purest, kindest, greatest.

You could ask him to call you God and he’d build you a thousand gilded shrines.

He silently lurked in the depths of the lightless corridor, the one that held the entrance to your home, your soon-to-be-former home, for he’d have you with him soon.

Geo felt a smile, a genuine one, crossed his rigid, diamond features, dimples rounding his sanguine lips as his pallid hands softly caressed the orchid — indigo and navy as his hair, you’d said how it reminded you of him — and sighed.

He’d not been the type to feel much, or allow himself to. Such things were a distraction, he’d assumed. For the most part he’d been correct, but all rules held exceptions.

But you lit a flame in him, one he didn’t realise he possessed. You’d nurtured something soft, cultivated something vulnerable within him. He’d resented you for it originally. 

However, for some quaint reason, you persisted, tossed more flames into the fray — risking your own feelings and heart — to try and be with him. 

It was your fault he’d become so forlornly infatuated with you, but he wasn’t about to let you slip from him, now was he?

His whole life had been in the shadows of his brother — his darling, golden brother — and he wasn’t about to let himself be ostracised, especially in terms of you.

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

Geo in general is a “quiet” yandere, in short – he’s really good at hiding it, shielding his true feelings under an aloofness that was chilling, even for his standards. He wouldn’t avoid you, but he’d appear significantly more detached than standard_geo.exe. 

However, under the feigned nonchalance and ignorance, Geo is an observer. Eavesdropping, brief staring, sometimes asking queries…he’s a smart man. He knows how to make himself appear as a quiet, uncaring person – one with no regard for others.

He’d rather die than write anything down about you, a subtle paranoia in his mind someone’d know and speak of it. He couldn’t afford to have any opportunities be sabotaged and razed before he’d even utilised them.

Geo’s main dilemma — apart from his abundances in emotional dysfunction and discombobulation — would be his “fans”. People who’d crowd his locker, toss him roses stained with their false promises and half-arsed affirmations. He wasn’t one for praise, at least….he thought so. Praise from you felt nice, he’d noticed.

He’s very used to being wanted, lusted over, clung and clawed by a hundred perverted hands, that such genuity — such honesty — the likes that came from your silver-coated tongue felt alien.

Alien in the sense his heart was thrown unto a treadmill each time you spoke highly of him, and meant it.

He’s definitely the type to try and get your attention on him, his envy of your friends — hell, even your mutuals — was growing more by the day. It wasn’t fair to him how easily the others could just be. They had much more freedom than he ever did, except for mayhaps Jess. He knew Crowe’d severed ties with his mother. How lucky he was.

Geo’d only start to panic when he recognises how his feelings grow stronger, both in vigour and potency. It’s as if a separate entity, one built of insecurities and obsession, had started eating away at all the walls he’d built up over the years of his life, replacing his cognition with sudden onslaughts of devotion.

He’d be very reliant on you making the moves, however. He wants to maintain some dignity.

If you don’t pick up on his extremely confusing and erratic hints, he’ll resort to the ultimate level of weakness: gifts.

Will have to spawn behind you when nobody is watching and give you either something you’ve wanted for ages, or just heard about a thing you like. You’re a bit confused, to say the least. He does not care.

His aim becomes to get you to obsess over why he did that, and so, eventually, you talk to him again. He knows it's a cruel thing to do, but it's the means to an end. A good end.

Would stalk- gather information on you after he learns your residence location, will meticulously plan out everything you do. He doesn’t do anything with this knowledge, he simply likes observing you.

Becomes somewhat murderous when he notices someone keeps entering your home at night. He’d assumed it was a significant other at first, one he’d inevitably get rid of…but you’d mentioned several times you were single. Then he had a miraculous idea.

Within the next few days Solivan Brugmansia — his charming brothers’ best friend — had been blackmailed and blacklisted, leaving Hyugo astounded.

He knew his brother’d lash out somehow, not that he cared. He’d convinced himself he’d lost all love for him…he hoped he did, he didn’t want to worry about Sugimoto. 

Again, his love intensified when you gifted him an orchid, purple and blue, and him feeling a passionate softness blooming in response. Starts to warm up to you more afterwards.

Geo personally was very much entranced by you now, and doesn’t step out of line too much for a long time, until you — in his eyes — hint you like him. He remains calm – barely – but when the time comes that feelings are shared (and reciprocated), he becomes significantly more watchful over you. He’d want you to wear things he gives you, whether it be jewellery or clothes. Something he — and only he — would know meant you were his, like he was yours.

He won’t get openly jealous if someone harasses or catcalls you, but he’ll definitely do something about said people. He knows everything about this city, and even more so about you.

It better remain that way, he’s not above whisking you away to a lavishly decorated basement far beyond the horizon. He wants you to have freedom,  but he’d be much more content if he had eyes on you every. Single. Second.

For now, while you’re both in school, in this fucked-up city, he’s going to have to stick to ensuring you’re in his sight, for even the richest and strongest aren’t immune to a stray shot in the dead of night…

[kabra-malvada]

Lurking

The only audible noise you're able to catch is the loud thumping of your own heart against your chest, traveling all the way up to your eardrums. You don't move an inch as the apparition in front of you starts to emerge from the wooden floor, slowly and quietly taking shape in the depts of the darkness that plagues the room.

Two pale blue tinted eyes stare right at you as the entity continues to slither into a discernable contorted shape, it feels as if they've been staring at you even before it started to appear in front of you. The simple thought of it makes you shudder but you are unable to move a muscle, what should you do? what can you do? If you were to use your proton gun to try to catch it in such an enclosed space you could cause the whole room to colapse and not even catch it. If you tried to run and try to attract it nothing ensures it would follow you.

Maybe... Maybe you could... talk to it?

The entity's newly formed arm starts to snake it's way to your direction, you have to think fast on something to say. It's now or never. You swallow a bit and prepare to blurt out something but before you can articulate a single syllable...

A pair of hands take a hold of your feet an pull you hard into the dark room, the old wooden floor creaks as you're being dragged into the dark room your proton gun hits the floor in just a split second slipping away from your grasp.

In just a quick instant you're inches away from those bright deep eyes, you're so focused on the sudden movements of the entity that you're completely taken by surprise by the sound of the door slamming behind you. it closes so harshly that for a moment you thought it would fall off it's hinges giving you of a brief moment the hope of running off to get your gun back.

The thought of your freedom is quickly taken away from you as you can feel the floor where you're being held down to start to bend and sink into itself as if the hard wood was just turned into quicksand.

Instinctively you try to move, to thrash around to free yourself but you find yourself unable to even blink. Is this some sort of ghost hypnosis?! Paralysis?! Hell if you know or care you just NEED TO GET OUT RIGHT NOW. And just as you were about to let out the loudest blood curling scream...

"Hello".

A low lazy voice echoes inside of your head as your panic is drown out by confusion, as if a switch was flipped your heart beat starts to slow down bit my bit as you start to pass out.

This was so much fun to draw and write! ghost stuff is so cool, that's just a fact. Ghostbusters AU belongs to my beloved @madame-mongoose God her ideas are so awesome and inspiring, y'all should check out her AUs and content in general, she is so very talented and sweet, I love her so much 😍💖

*clears throat*

Go check her blog frfr :3c

[sleepynovalunosis]

a/n: OOOOH i've wanted to write my baby boy soo bad!! i hope u enjoy, xo.

contains: gender neutral!reader, penetration, praises, bottom!reader

dwayne is definitely a service top. he excels in this, especially since he refuses to turn you. not now.

not yet.

raven locks hang down, framing his face as he thrusts into you. his face is glistened with a thin layer of sweat, brows furrowed as he studies each reaction from you.

every gasp, every pant, every moan. so far, he's noted that whenever you say his name, you're close. once he's gathered that notion, the ball is completely in his court. what he chooses to do with you depends on the day.

if you've been away for too long, wandering the boardwalk during the night, he'll pound into you until you remember why you can't do such things. "never know what's out there--you hear me?" he'd ask, and you'd barely register the fact that he was even speaking. there's a familiar warmth nestling in the pit of your stomach, flipping with each word you hear. you nod.

"answer me," he demands, quickening his pace. his eyes are piercing, and you can barely make them out in this lighting; though you can feel the intensity of his gaze without even having to see it. you can hear the waves crashing outside the cave, a small fire servicing as the only luminosity. "i know," you exhale, your breaths growing more irregular as you feel your orgasm approaching. he takes this time as an opportunity to continue, while he has you still focused.

"weren't expecting me, were you?" he continues, and you shake your head. "no," you say, confessing the obvious. who would expect someone-something like him to be lurking in the shadows?

"i couldn't help myself," he says through pants, "so goddamn pretty. had to have you all to myself," he praises. it makes your stomach flip, his words earning a sharp inhale from you. "and you had not the slightest clue--how could you?" he asks, "it'd be impossible for you to know what i was." he continues, "don't think i'm the only one. i'm just the one who got to you first."

you feel like your head is spinning, dizzy with lust as he speaks to you, working your body for your orgasm, making sure he ticks all the right boxes.

he knows he will.

"i don't--want anyone else," you manage to reply, lifting your hips in desperation. it feels so good, but you can't help but want him more. he's told you he refuses to go beyond your tolerance, which you argue to him frequently.

"i know you don't, honey. i know."

he reaches for your hand, lifting it and pinning it to the side of your head, interlocking his fingers with yours. "come on, sweetheart." he coos, keeping a steady rhythm as he stretches you out with his cock. his free hand caresses the side of your face, thumb running along your flushed cheek. you can feel your body temperature rising, and you're undoubtedly aware of the shade of your cheeks.

always pink when i've got you right there, he'd told you.

you feel yourself twitch beneath him, and he knows. "there you go," he coos, and that's all you need, unraveling beneath him as you finish. you feel yourself clenching around his cock, your head lulling back as you feel him twitch inside of you. he groans, lifting the hand that had been caressing your face to press against the cave's wall. you hear the cracking of it, dust from debris falling next to you, but it doesn't startle you. you want him to be like this.

"god damn, shit--" he groans, feeling how tight you are when you clench around him. his palm slides down the wall, landing with a loud thump next to your head, trying to gain control of himself.

you both try to catch your breath, his lips coming down to press against your forehead. he then rests his own against yours, looking down into your eyes. you can finally see him, his pupils dilated, lips swollen and cherried red from kissing you.

you glance over to the debris, and he sighs. "not happening again-" he says sternly, beating you to the punch.

you roll your eyes, and he presses his lips to yours before you can protest.

"whatever you say."

[imagine-darksiders]

So, what do you think of this? Bowser sees Y/N in an extreme state of danger, like, I dunno, trying to be taken against her will by an arranged Prince suitor or something, and the state of her distress/fear get's him so mad he transforms into Giga Bowser.

Well, first of all, I have done nothing BUT think of this for the past week! Thanks so much for the inspiration! Here's a little drabble <3

TW: Physical abuse, Kidnapping, Captive Reader, Implied arranged marriage, Giga Bowser is kinda scary? Mentions of being eaten etc

----

Bowser's thunderous footsteps come grinding to a halt of their own accord, stilling the colossal Koopa in his tracks at the opposite end of the docks, his eyes bulging open at the sight that looms out of the mist to greet him.

He's found you, his little runaway, for which he's rendered breathless with palpable relief.

But to his mounting dismay, there's another human with you.

A stranger...

A man.

And not only is this man encroaching well into your personal space, but his hands have captured your wrists as well, keeping you anchored in place with his chest shoved firmly against yours.

The pair of you are so wrapped up in the presence of the other, that neither one of you notices the King lurking nearby.

For a single beat, Bowser almost can't tear his wild-eyed stare away from the fingertips squeezing into your supple skin.

But then, he hears your voice, laden with thick and palpable alarm that's badly disguised by the composure you're attempting to maintain.

“Falkner, please,” you're shakily telling the other human, “Whatever agreement you may have had with my father is null and void now that he's dead!”

“Bullshit!” the stranger is quick to contend, giving you a rough jostle that throws fuel on the fire already raging in Bowser's gut, “Your old man promised you to me! I didn't sail halfway around the world just to be told no!”

Neither of you register the Koopa, not even when he lowers his horned head and takes a heavy, dangerous step towards you, his hackles starting to rise just like his gorge.

Just who the Hell does this idiot think he is to speak to you so crassly?!

Another step sends the pebbles near his feet skittering across the ground.

Your jaw is set, but you continue to tug at your ensnared wrists as you retort, “Promises made in a drunken stupor are hardly binding agreements!”

The man's face is swiftly changing from sallow and pallid to a vivid crimson and he parts his lips to shout, “You are mine by rights! You're coming with me!”

“Let me GO!” At last, perhaps inevitably, your voice cracks.

Bowser's jaw aches with how tightly his fangs are wedged together.

He can feel a fireball trying to crawl its way up his throat, leaving a sting that burns like venom along the walls of his trachea, but he gulps it down. No matter how great and terrible his rage might grow, he'd be remiss to let an attack loose with you so close to the firing line.

But there's something else building in his chest. Something swollen and ugly that rumbles like a slumbering giant just underneath his scales when he sees the moisture glistening on your dainty eyelashes.

Bowser hasn't ever seen you cry. Not even when he informed you that you'd be a permanent guest at his castle. Not even when it dawned on you that you could never go back to your old home across the seas. Not even when you fell from your window during an escape attempt and sprained your ankle, and the pain was great enough that you actually clung to him as he lifted you gently into his arms, your lips stuffed together to refrain from whimpering.

So to see you this close to tears now instills an outrage in him that differs from his usual temper. This is tumultuous. Primal, even.

He wants you to notice him now, to glance over and see that he's here for you, that you'll be all right because Bowser would never let anything bad happen to you.

Heart aflame, his pace quickens to a lurching gallop.

With a wrench, you manage to free one of your hands from Falkner's grip and use it to pry his fingers from your remaining wrist. “I said, GET! OFF!”

The anger in Bowser's chest dims only slightly to make room for a burst of pride.

But that momentary delight is stamped out as swiftly as it comes.

In an awful, jarring instant, the man - evidently fed up with your continued resistance – reels his hand back into the air behind his head, fingers pressed together, open-palmed...

Bowser can see the disaster unfurling right in front of him, but his shame is in knowing that he was too slow to stop it from happening.

The hand hurtles forwards...

A harrowing 'CRACK' ruptures the air as calloused skin meets the vulnerable flesh of your cheek.

Your head is flung sideways and you cry out, eyes wide with shock, and it's only then that your startled gaze land upon your audience. Cheek humming, the tears finally spill over the walls of your eyelids, tumbling in ceaseless rivulets down your face.

You choke on a wet sob, unable to drag your gaze away from the Koopa.

You can't summon the will to be pleased for his interference, if anything, you're ashamed to have been caught by your captor in a moment of such vulnerability.

Perhaps it's the tears distorting your vision, or perhaps the slap had knocked something loose in your brain, but through blurred vision, you think you can see a change come over Bowser, and if you didn't know any better, you'd almost swear that he was growing.

A hiss from your side catches your attention, but you don't turn to look at Falkner, though you can see him flapping his hand about to rid it of the lingering sting. “Damn,” he sucks a breath through his teeth, “Now look what you made me do... If you hadn't been so difficult, I wouldn't've had to do-” He finally notices the ground trembling beneath his leather boots. "-that...?"

Whatever had been hiding under the surface of Bowser's scales is howling out with rage, stirred from its slumber by the vicious and unprovoked attack on his friend.

Muscles ripple and bulge as they expand, bones snap, twisting out of shape. The Koopa King's gums burn as his fangs grow longer, sharper, squeaking against one another whilst his rapidly changing jaw struggles to keep up with their rate of growth.

It's agony, this transformation, but it can't be helped.

His friend has been struck. Hurt. And everything in him, every last instinct and sinew and atom, is bellowing out at him that he needs to protect you.

He would swallow this agony over and over again if it keeps you from experiencing pain.

He may be monstrous in size and temperament, but he isn't a monster.

He can't be...

Anger feeds into his expanding body, giving itself more space to spread like a wildfire, or perhaps more like a wave of churning acid that washes through his veins and takes the place of his blood.

It must... Because his body feels as if it's corroding.

“What the HELL is that?!”

Falkner's shriek adequately echoes your own inner monologue.

And you thought Bowser was terrifying before.

The tyrant must be absolutely livid with you for managing to escape from your room. If only you hadn't run into Sir Falkner on the docks. You went looking for a rescue party, but the man who did come to 'rescue' you might be even worse than King Bowser. At least Bowser, for all his uninvited clinginess, had never raised a hand against you.

Now though, locked in his blood-red stare, you start to wonder if you've pushed your luck just a step too far.

Pounding footsteps take off behind you, slapping against the cobblestone as Falkner simply turns tail and runs, leaving you frozen in place with your limbs as rigid as petrified wood, like your body knows instinctively that to turn your back and run from something with teeth that sharp is a very bad idea.

Inevitably, Bowser's head shoots up almost the moment Falkner starts to flee, and you're helpless but to watch on in horror as a gigantic paw surges over your head and snatches your would-be suitor right off the ground, hoisting the man up into the air.

Falker's resulting scream chills you down to the marrow in your bones, so wracked with terror and urgency that it sets your teeth on edge.

The oversized Koopa draws the thrashing human up to his maw and peels back his thick, rubbery lips, giving Falkner an uninterrupted view of his fate.

A constant growl spills between gleaming fangs, each one about the length of your own forearm, and the sound itself is loud enough that it could be mistaken for an unending grumble of far-off thunder, easily drowning out the man's screams.

It's gruesome to see. Your imagination runs wild with awful possibilities that you pray don't come to pass. Trembling in your boots, you lower your gaze to stare unblinkingly at the ground instead whilst short, sharp breaths fall out of your lungs, coming fast enough to leave you feeling light-headed.

Slowly, carefully, you take a single step back.

This might be your only chance to escape.

But then, like a damning acknowledgement of your cowardice, Falkner screams your name.

“Y/N!” he screeches, his back arched against the pain of being crushed in Bowser's grip, “HELP ME! PLEASE!”

'...You don't have to help him,' logic whispers into your ear, set on self-preservation, 'Nobody but his mother would miss him. He's a bad person, and you're not a hero.'

No. You're not a hero. And it certainly wouldn't be heroic to save a man like Falkner, who does more harm than good most days.

Bowser's immense jaws part in reaction to the human's screams, and his growl explodes into a deafening roar that blasts the man's hair back and forces him to pinch his eyes firmly shut.

Similarly, you raise your hands and slap them over your ears, teeth grit until the sound starts to fade. You can only imagine what the volume had done to Falkner's eardrums.

Even through the cushioning of your palms, you still hear him crying out once more, “DO SOMETHING!”

… Your head twists slowly towards a little wooden boat that bobs invitingly on the nearby docks. You're strong enough to work the oars, you could very easily jump into it, raise the little, white sail and let the wind carry you far out to sea, away from this place.

Away from Bowser.

This could be your only shot of escaping imprisonment and going home.

“I beg of you!”

… You could...

“Y/N!”

… Oh, damn it all.

Your eyes snap back up to Falkner and you immediately start to feel the burning of your cheek, as if to remind you of what he did.

But already, your scruples are disintegrating. A direct cry for help is a tough thing to ignore, after all.

On shaking knees, you reclaim the step you'd made in retreat and instead move towards Bowser, tipping your head back and peeling your tongue from the roof of your bone-dry mouth. “B-!” You falter on the first syllable and have to swallow roughly before trying again. “Bowser!”

Almost as soon as it had begun, the thunderous roar falls silent, echoing off in the distance until it's lost over the crashing waves.

Falkner continues to gasp and whimper inside the colossal fist, but those haunting, blood-red eyes turn gradually in your direction, pinning you once again in their subtle glow.

Your legs threaten to buckle as you realise he's now focusing solely on you.

You've no idea if he can be reasoned with in this state, but you know you can't do much else but try. “Release him, Bowser!” you yelp without an ounce of any real authority, “I'm the one who ran from you! Not him! Put him down!”

The docks are still and disarmingly placid for a time, disturbed only by the sounds of Falkner struggling to free himself, and the breaths that enter and leave a set of gargantuan lungs.

The hulking Koopa continues to glower down at you, his nostrils flared wide to reveal a red-hot glow from within, like a burning core.

Just as you begin to fear that your plea will go unheeded, Bowser hisses through his fangs, and then, without much ceremony, he simply opens his fist and Falkner goes tumbling out of it, landing awkwardly on his ankle and eliciting a yelp of pain. Still, he wastes no time in whirling over onto his backside and kicking madly to push himself out from under the behemoth's shadow.

You follow his retreat from the corner of an eye, but you don't break Bowser's stare.

You daren't, even as he takes a lumbering step in your direction. The ground underneath your shudders with the impact, as though the island itself is afraid of his wrath.

Another step covers much of the distance between you, and the realisation that he's coming your way snaps you out of your trance. You've given Falkner a chance to escape. Now, you'll be taking yours.

Skirts flying, you whip yourself about and take off in a dead sprint. Behind you, the air quivers as Bowser releases an urgent chuff, the heat from his breath washing disconcertingly over the back of your neck and spurring you to kick up your heels.

However, you barely make it ten paces before a colossal palm suddenly descends from the sky and crashes into the ground just ahead of you. You let out a yelp and hit the brakes, but you've already come too close to his hand, and so, like a venus fly trap closes around a hapless insect, Bowser's fingers spring to action, sweeping you up off your feet and pinning you against the soft, warm leather of his palm.

“No, no, no!” you bleat, scrabbling desperately at thick scales as the ground falls away below you and you find yourself lifted up to Bowser's big, yellow muzzle.

All you can do is wait for the crunch. For the pain. To hear your bones grind together when he eventually clenches his fist.

You're ashamed to cry in front of him, but you're too afraid to stop. Nausea churns your stomach and you screw up your face in anticipation, eyes clamped tightly closed.

The agony of waiting is almost too much for you to bear.

You're too wrapped up in your fear to notice that Bowser has yet to even slightly tighten his grasp. If anything, his hold is shockingly gentle. The pad of an immense thumb is pressed against your belly, exerting just enough pressure to keep you safely tucked in the hollow of his palm.

Several, unbearable seconds tick by whilst you quiver and breathe as though you've just run a mile.

You nearly lose your composure, biting down on your tongue to stop yourself from demanding that he just get your punishment over with.

And then, you feel it.

A gentle pressure, so light that you'd think a butterfly must have landed on your neck, but when your eyes burst open and you catch sight of a monolithic finger all but filling your field of view, you realise what a fool you were to close your eyes at all.

Bowser, it seems, has raised his unoccupied hand towards you, and the very tip of a single claw has come to rest in the hollow of your throat. You can feel it's ghosting presence as you swallow thickly and your larynx presses a little more solidly against it for all of a second.

You're too stunned to make a move.

With a gentleness that doesn't at all befit his size, Bowser slowly lifts his claw, and in doing so, your head is pushed up, then turned slightly to one side, exposing your cheek.

The cheek that had been viciously struck.

Why is he...?

Pinned under the weight of his scrutiny, you fall utterly motionless, your mouth stuck open as if you're emitting a silent scream.

A lonely tear escapes the confines of your lashes and trickles down to your chin when it dangles precariously for a before it falls, plopping down onto Bowser's fingertip.

The behemoth's muzzle shifts close, and those dark and dangerous eyes narrow to thin slits as he inspects your cheek. You'd almost entirely forgotten about the throbbing ache lancing across your face, and even now, adrenaline is doing wonders at keeping most of the discomfort at bay.

All of a sudden, Bowser's pupils shrink and a thrum of aggression starts up in his chest like the engine of some ancient and powerful machine. Drawing his head away from you, he twists it over his bulging shoulder and aims a vicious snarl in the direction that Falkner had fled.

You can't help but flinch when his fingers twitch around you, but he must have noticed the movement, because not a second later, the growl is cut off and he swings his nose around to peer down at you again, his slitted pupils expanding like ink in water once they land on you.

Your pulse is jackhammering against your skin. Nothing about this is adding up. He seems more agitated about Falkner than about you. But... you're the escaped prisoner...

You don't have much time to ponder over his strange behaviour though. Just as carefully as it had appeared, the Koopa's forefinger slides gradually from beneath your chin and you can finally gulp down a greedy breath of air, realising belatedly that you'd stopped breathing the moment he touched you.

All around you, the behemoth starts to move, pulling you close and tucking you against his chest as he takes step after impossibly lengthy step, turning his immense bulk about to head back across the island to your gloomy, familiar prison.

--------------

You used to wonder if it was simply Bowser's ostentatious taste in décor that made him choose such grand, wide doorways to separate the rooms of his castle. Now however, as the gargantuan Koopa squeezes himself through the entrance to your given chambers, his shell scraping noisily against the wooden doorframes, you realise the design might lend more to practicality than aesthetic, especially if this... transformation happens on a regular basis around here.

God, you hope not...

You've remained stiff as a board in Bowser's unwavering grasp all the way back, fearful of provoking a violent reaction out of him like you had when you tried to struggle out of Falkner's grip.

Shoulders sagging as he releases a massive sigh, the Koopa trundles to a stop at the foot of your bed and at long, long last, he peels you away from his chest. Your ears ring after so much time spent having to listen to a mighty heart thudding rhythmically right next to your head.

Again, with a care that you certainly never would have expected him to possess, Bowser cups you in his palms and lowers you onto the plush sheets, sliding his hands out from underneath you as if he's placing down a fragile, porcelain doll.

As soon as you're out of his grasp, he deflates, heaving a billowing breath and all but dropping onto all fours in front of you. Alarmed, you scramble backwards until your spine hits the bed's headboard, blurting out a yelp when Bowser's chin drops down to thwack on the sheets in front of you. The weight of his skull alone causes the bed to buckle and groan in protest, but to your astonishment, it somehow manages to support him as he gets himself settled, peering down the length of his snout and ensnaring you in that ruby-red gaze once more.

Your fingers flex into the sheets around you, bunching them up and wrinkling the fine cotton.

'Now what's he doing?'

His eyes are glued to your cheek again, his intense stare broken by the occasional, languid blink.

You're not expecting it when he suddenly moves.

He only extends his neck a little to bring his head closer to you, but he's so massive, the motion it far more jarring from your perspective. With a shriek, you slam your eyes shut and instinctively throw up your hands, pressing them hard against the soft muzzle, as if they alone are enough to keep him from advancing on you any further. To your immense shock however, the moment your fingers meet the warm surface of his nose, Bowser falls still.

You risk prying open an eyelid to peep up at him.

Judging by the impossibly wide smile that now stretches across his face, he's apparently delighted by this new development.

This is the first time you've touched his face.

Your palm is almost lost to a vast expanse of yellow skin, sitting right on the ridge of his nose between his flaring nostrils.

The Koopa's own gaze is heavy-lidded, each pupil angled to keep you within his sights whilst a pleased hum travels through his throat and causes the bed to quake underneath you.

His fangs remain safely tucked behind his lips, and as the seconds tick by without your hand getting snapped off, the tension in your fingers gradually begins to dissipate.

With your heartbeat receding as well, you allow yourself to lightly stroke just the tips of your fingers down his snout until they pause on the cusp of his upper lip, drawing a reverent shudder from the almighty juggernaut.

Pressing your teeth together, you inhale slowly through your nose, and murmur, “...Bowser?”

It's as if you've just broken him from some kind of trance.

The King's face suddenly twists up and he emits a throaty groan, like he's in pain.

Quick as a flash, you tear your hand from his muzzle and press yourself back as far away as you can when he peels his chin from the bed and brings both of his gargantuan paws up to clutch at his head, staggering to his feet.

“Bowser!” you cry again, this time in alarm, “What's happening!?”

A disconcerting notion occurs to you - that he could be on the verge of going bezerk - and you hurriedly throw back the covers with a view to scramble off the bed and make a break for the doors. But as soon as you move, the Koopa's eyes spring open again and zero in on you, trapping you in a stare so full of frantic desperation that you stop at once, though more from confusion than fear.

And so, you're left to do nothing but watch as the jagged behemoth undergoes another, painful transformation.

The heavy shell on his back grows smaller, losing the serrated quality of its spikes. His tail shortens, his jutting fangs soften around their edges. The sweeping horns on his head recede back inside his rapidly shrinking skull until only their tips remain poking out from between his mess of a mane.

You almost choke on a gushing sigh of relief when at last, the King is back to his regular, brutish self, knelt on the ground at the foot of your bed - though it strikes you quite abruptly that you shouldn't be feeling reassured by Bowser's presence, no matter which form he takes.

Despite your misgivings, you still find yourself croaking out, “A-are you okay?”

Arduously, he braces a palm on the end of the bed and uses it to push himself up onto his feet again, eventually dragging his eyes over to you. He gives you a brief, searching glance, focusing for an uncomfortable minute on your face, then, without a word, the Koopa spins around and staggers purposefully towards the adjoining bathroom, disappearing through the door.

Plagued by uncertainty, you allow your fists to tentatively unclench around the bedsheets, lowering them into your lap as the squeak of a tap filters out from beyond the ensuite door, followed by the unmistakable rush of running water.

Another squeak... and a few moments later, the Koopa comes stomping back into the room, this time with a wet flannel clutched inside his meaty paw.

“You should've let me pulverise 'im,” he grumbles, stalking around the bed until he comes to the side you're sitting on.

Gobsmacked, you let your mouth fall open, close it, then open it once more to ask, “I... I beg your pardon?”

“That GUY!” he snaps, “You shouldn't'a stopped me. He deserved the worst!”

You blink stupidly, lifting your eyebrows in tandem until they sit high on your forehead. “I'm sorry.. Are we... not going to talk about what just happened to you!?”

“What's there to talk about?” he grunts, flicking his tail up onto the bed before sinking his hefty backside down after it, fidgeting with the sodden flannel between his claws, “You got hurt. I got mad.”

“You got mad!?” Scoffing at the absurd understatement, you continue, “Bowser - you turned into a gigantic, terrifying monster who looked like he was three seconds away from chewing me up and spitting me back out! All because somebody slapped me!?”

You expect an uproarious retort, which would definitely be in keeping with your usual repartee with him, so it comes as a shock when Bowser glares heatedly at you for a few moments, then merely turns his nose away from you, hiding his expression.

It's... notably uncharacteristic of the hot-tempered Koopa. So much so that it prompts you to tilt your head and call, “Bowser?”

You can't see his face beyond the shell that covers his back, but motion on the covers draws your gaze down to see his tail. Slowly, the appendage curls inwards, tucking itself up against his thigh. Dejected.

“You didn't deserve what he did...”

You look up at Bowser again, blinking owlishly to find his arm reaching back towards you, though the King keeps his face stubbornly pointed in the opposite direction. The little, white flannel is draped across his proffered palm.

Keeping a dubious eye on the Koopa, you hesitantly stretch your hand out to his, pinching the fabric between your thumb and forefinger and pausing for a second to marvel over how cold it is. Drawing it into your grasp, you waste no time in bringing it up to your face and gently pressing the cool material against your cheek, unable to keep back the tiny smile that grows on your face with that slight modicum of relief.

You recognise his gesture is meant to be a peace offering, and you are grateful for the flannel... But you're also still bitter.

“So,” you hum pensively, eyeing his robust arm as it drops down to rest on the bed beside him, “I didn't deserve that. But I do deserve to be locked up and held prisoner in your castle?”

“I keep you safe.” His head twitches in your direction with a cursory show of teeth that are hardly very frightening anymore, not now that you've seen what they can become, “I keep you fed and warm and happy. I'd never hurt you.”

“No. You keep me fed and warm, and that's it,” you tell him sharply, “I don't feel safe here. And I am far from happy.”

You're more than aware that you're antagonising him, but you think you're damn well within your rights to do so. It isn't enough that he keeps you locked up in this castle and forbids you your freedom, but now he expects you to act as if you're happy about it too?

Another, disgruntled noise leaves him as he lurches off the bed, landing on his feet with a thud.

"Where are you going?" you demand.

"I'm-!" Bowser heaves a sigh, running a clawed hand through his thick, fiery mane. “I'm goin' to get you a proper ice-pack...” Trailing off, the King tromps heavily across your room, making his agitation known with every, deliberate step until he reaches the door.

Your teeth tug at a piece of loose skin on your lower lip. “... Bowser.”

He pauses, his hulking frame suddenly looking so small and vulnerable in the gargantuan doorway, with one of his hands sitting poised upon the handle.

Even from the bed, you can see the flash of his crimson iris swivelling in your direction.

You try to regard him passively, but the ice in your gaze is starting to melt fraction by fraction, and you don't know whether he can see it or not. “... Thanks,” you call gently anyway, lifting your shoulder into a shrug, “For... you know, for scaring Falkner off.”

You watch his eyelid widen, as if he's surprised to hear a word of thanks, from you of all people.

There's even the minutest quiver in his lip as it tries to tug itself up into the ghost of a smile. But then, he gives his head a rough shake, and the smile is gone.

“Just protectin' what's mine,” he rumbles, pushing the door open and slipping through the gap. The door closes again a second later, and your ears catch the sound of a heavy key sliding into the lock and turning, sending the tumblers clunking home.

… What's his...

Right.

A hollow space expands between your ribs, the familiar hole that disappointment often leaves behind.

Drawing your knees up against your chest, you wrap an arm around yourself for comfort, keeping the flannel pressed to your cheek as you wait for him to return with that ice pack.

[darklydeliciousdesires]

Hi there! I hope you’re well!

I saw that you’ve opened your drabble requests and, if they’re still open, I was wondering if you’d be willing to write something for Tommy Shelby using the prompt “Really? You’re pregnant?” ?

Thanks so much in advance if you choose to! 🥰

Hello! Yes, I'm good thank you. Hope you are, too! And of course, he you are, love!

"Oh god, oh god, oh god."

Pacing the pavement outside of the Shelby Company Ltd, you know you have to venture inside sooner or later. Ambivalence is your friend at the moment, though, your nerves tingling unpleasantly. Do you go in, or run for the bus stop and head home to remain in indecision a while longer?

He should know, though. Sooner rather than later.

It's happened all too rapidly, just four months into your courting of Tommy Shelby and now here you are, with a tiny little bun nestled within your oven. Tommy's tiny little bun. Bake time nine months.

"Oh, bloody hell." Taking a deep breath, you reach for the brass handles of the doors and pull them open. "Here goes nothing."

Striding down the hallway, you are met at the end by the smiling face of Lizzie, his secretary. "Oh, what a surprise. Luckily for you, he's in his office and not currently engaged, I don't think. Let me go and check for you, though. He might be on the phone."

Biting your thumbnail with nerves, you wait the short time it takes Lizzie to knock upon Tommy's office door, poking her head around to alert him to your arrival. "He's free, go on in."

He cuts a sharply dressed, yet casual figure behind his large desk, idly smoking a cigarette while perusing the morning broadsheets. Looking up, he smiles warmly. "You're the last person I was expecting to see this morning, sweetheart."

You swallow hard, hands fidgeting with the buttons upon your coat. "I erm, I have something to tell you, Tommy."

"Oh?" His curious reply pulls him from the paper, setting it down upon the desk as he gives you his full attention. "Not about to tell me I've been given the boot, are you? Because that really would ruin my tea break."

Tommy and his dry humour. "No, not at all, but depending on what you have to say in light of it, your tea break might still be ruined."

His nod urges you to continue, a small puzzled frown creasing his forehead. "You see, Tommy. The thing is, is, I erm. I've just come from the doctor. I'm erm, I... we... I'm pregnant."

Immediately he rises to his feet, his eyes widening as he walks around his desk, taking your hands. You can never truly tell what lurks beneath a facade as stoic as Tommy presents at times, but as you watch his mouth begin to upturn, your heart flutters with relief.

“Really? You’re pregnant?”

You nod, tucking your hair behind your ear. "I am. Not very far along, but I am."

The warmth of his hug as he laughs with glee is the only confirmation you need that no, you absolutely did not ruin his tea break that morning.

[imagine--if]

"What am I to you" Bruce Wayne/Battinson x reader?!?

A/N: I kinda just went with the flow on this haha, there's a smidge of riddler x reader too but hi battinson peoples!! It's been a while 😁🖤 enjoyyy, sorry if I didn't follow the trope as much as you wanted bahaha

Wordcount: 798

"I'm sending you to Wayne Manor. You'll be safe there."

You blink up at the mystery man clad in all black in shock, rubbing at the mild red tape marks around your wrists. Wayne Manor? Was he joking?

"Wayne Manor?" you repeat incredulously. "You can't just go to Wayne Manor. Bruce Wayne lives in Wayne Manor."

The Batman doesn't look up at you as he gently pulls a hand away from your wrist, cleaning the agitated skin area with a softness that should be alien to the vigilante, who stalks troublemakers and maniacs each night, warding them off the streets by any extreme means that doesn't involve guns.

"He'll understand."

You gape at him in a daze, the night's events a blur, making your head hurt just thinking about it. Of course, whatever drug that dampened the towel The Riddler shoved in your face before you were whisked off to a cold, crumby hotel room can't be helping either, and you swear you can still feel the effects making you feel weak and shaky even after The Batman stormed into the scene, cutting it short with an untamed rage you'd never seen in those dark eyes before.

Before all this, you'd never properly met The Batman, least of all been saved by him. It was only now that The Riddler was targeting the corrupt, trying to prove himself to Batman, and save you, his so-called angel, a beacon in this dark, cesspool city, from the corruption and the dangers lurking around every corner. But, if anything, The Riddler seemed like a danger to you, constantly sending you love poems and riddles on old-fashioned, cheesy valentines cards and promising his followers and viewers of his streams and trials that another reason to carry out his acts of terror was for you.

"So- so pure, and innocent, and angelic... and they're being corrupted! The influence of this rich, disgusting vermin of the city is attacking the biggest influence and symbol of hope in this forsaken place! I'm going to do something... something spectacular. All you have to do is watch and wait for a little while longer..."

If you'd have known that donating to charities for orphans and helping out true detectives like James Gordon with crimes instead of being bought off by Falcone would gain this kind of attention, you might have thought twice. But here you are. Being obsessed over by a murderous genius, and protected by a vigilante mystery man.

"Do you know him?" you ask Batman in wonder, as he frees your wrist, treated carefully and delicately. "Mr Wayne? I don't know if he'd be happy with me staying there. I mean, he doesn't talk to many people and... well, no one really knows much about him."

"He can make an exception," Batman answers you. "This is serious. I don't want you going back home or anywhere by yourself until Riddler's behind bars. You're a part of his plan, too."

You sigh, putting your hoodie back on and pulling the sleeves over your hands, fingertips poking out of the material. "I know. But I'm not your responsibility. You have enough to do already."

"It's my responsibility to keep you safe," The Batman argues. "I'm sure you're a very capable person, but this is dangerous. People have died. You know that."

"I don't think he'll kill me," you say after a beat of thought passes.

"He won't," The Batman says. "He won't go near you again. I'll make sure of it."

"Well..." you struggle to find the words, confused, as Batman goes over to his car, like something out of a sci-fi movie. "Thank you. But why do you care so much?"

The Batman freezes, glancing over his shoulder at you with an unreadable expression.

"No, I mean," you continue quickly, "apart from the fact that you're a vigilante and a protector and all. Like, what am I to you?"

You cringe inwardly at yourself after hearing the words come out of your mouth, and at the masked man's bemused expression. What the hell was he supposed to say to that? He was only protecting you because there's a terrorist on the loose, right? What exactly are you expecting?

What you don't expect is for The Batman to take a heavy step towards you, offering you a gloved hand to help you into the vehicle. His hand lingers in yours when you're sat down and he hesitates, an odd look of - what, insecurity? Flustered, just a little? - written in his features as he looks you dead in the eye, the intensity making your breath catch in your throat.

"Probably more than you think," he replies after a few moments of silence, and then his hand slips out of yours as the engine roars to life.

⭒❃.✮:▹𝓉𝒶𝑔𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉 ◃:✮.❃⭒ (message me know if you want to be removed/added. ghost blogs/dead accs have been removed.)

@misadventures0fdes @junebugp @simestandswithtaylorswift-blog @carley-carley-carley @lostbunn @dragovegogrimborn @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @edwardspumpkinpie @murderbimbo00 @sweetums0kitty @beel-mcburger @cml-san @jervis-tetch-my-beloved @bimboanime @phoenixgurl030 @dangerouslittlefairy @yoyoanaria @yaeyuuki @vinxlsketches @beenz-beenz @ghoulsgraveyard @birds-have-teeth @repostingmyfavs @r3ptiliaaa @for3v3rda1sy @glitterycheesecakegladiator @moonwritesblog @lilyevans1 @httpsunflowersleep @hxney-lemcn @callsigncrash @bokksieu @skateb0red @philiasoul@felicityofbakerstreet @deadlights-darling @ireadandream @tinyryder @kpopgirlbtssvt @truecobblepot @jessicainhell

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

helloo darling ❤️❤️ saw that ur requests were open sooooo could u please do a tangerine x reader where reader is also a contract killer and her and the twins keep bumping into eachother on missions and she somehow is always faster than them, which obv infuriates tangerine sm

there’s always been that weird energy between them where they “hate” each other but the sexual tension is DEFINITELY there

so they bump in this one mission where it’s somewhere fancy, but when tangerine bumps into her she’s FUMING and storming out of the place or something cuz her partner for that job keeps hitting on her (to the point where it makes her uncomfortable and MAD) instead of focusing on their job

so when tangerine sees her he starts off like not u again.. but when he sees her angry state he just stfu and follows her like hey what happened

and he gets mad and maybe punches her job partner??? but it ends with smut and being able to free all the tension they had

hii honey!! love love it, but really sorry, no smut in this one - it was getting too long and wasn’t able to squeeze it in. thank you for requesting, hope you like it 💌 apologies for the slight delay

MEET AGAIN

tangerine x fem!reader

word count. 859

warnings. tiny tiny mention of blood and violence

Whenever you'd see The Twins during separate missions, you were sure to be in and out before they had time to catch up. Every encounter would be a game of cat and mouse, with you several steps ahead. 

Until one day, your paths cross with The Twins for the umpteenth time, and instead of you being ahead like usual, you find yourself in the lurk, far behind them in completing your mission. 

You and your partner had been assigned to a fancy event to stake out some rich, morally-crappy person -always the way- and instead of doing your job, you spent the majority of the evening pushing your drunken partner off your shoulder, shushing him for his slurred attempts to hit on you. You found it utterly unprofessional and distasteful - not only were you on high alert for yourself, but now you also had to babysit an intoxicated sleazeball who wouldn't leave you alone.

"Get off," you grit out with a slight smile, acting nonchalant around the swarm of patrons. "I'll break it," you add, snatching his hand away from your waist.

He makes a whiney coo sound, reaching back for your arm. "Don't be like that."

You elbow him, knocking yourself into his ribs until you're free from his grasp and then walk away casually - adjusting your dress as if nothing happened. You spot the balcony and head right for it, wanting some fresh air after being smothered for most of the night.

As you make your way over, you walk past him again- one of The Twins strolling in the opposite direction. 

"Not you again," Tangerine mutters, eyes lazily taking you in.

Instead of entertaining his comments like usual, you continue walking ahead, far too pissed to remain reasonable with an enemy. He opens his mouth to say something but snaps it shut, following after you without another word.

He follows you to the empty balcony, uneasy eyes watching you as you shudder and mumble to yourself, pacing around uncomfortably. 

"What's goin' on?" he asks, his tone concerned. "What's got you all riled up?"

"God," you shiver, rolling your shoulders back, attempting to rid your partner's unwarranted touch. "What a dick," you continue muttering, oblivious to Tangerine's questioning. 

"Who?" he asks, interrupting your thoughts, his eyes boring at you. "Whose the dick? What did they do?"

You softly groan and halt your movements, turning to face him. "My partner got drunk," you shrug, face grimacing. "So unprofessional."

"Did he try anything?" he asks, speaking possesively, his eyes looking past you, searching through the glass door ahead.

You sigh, practically shivering at the thought. "Wouldn't get his hands off me."

"And he's still here?" 

"Yeah," you reply hesitantly, watching him storm away the second the confirmation leaves your lips. "Don't do anything, though. Leave it— it's fine," you call out, trying to stop him.

You chase after Tangerine, watching from behind the speed of how he stalks up to your partner, sneaking past people until you can no longer see him. You hear a swarm of gasps and push past the crowd to get to the middle, seeing your partner splayed out on the floor with a bloody nose and busted-up cheek.

You spot the back of Tan as he casually walks away, and you immediately rush over to him, tugging on his arm, halting him to catch your breath. 

"You didn't have to hit him," you breathe out, looking into his narrow, displeased eyes.

"The prick had it coming," he dismisses. "Never liked him anyway."

"Me neither," you laugh, watching his gaze melt under your attention. "I'll help get you cleaned up," you offer, nodding to his knuckle.

You slip your arm into his and lead him to the back with the vacant bathrooms, guiding him towards the sinks, where you help by rinsing the blood. You hold his palm carefully in yours, splashing speckles of water over the soon-to-be bruise, letting the water coat his wounded fist. 

His gaze never leaves yours, watching you intently as you help mend and clean him up. It panged at his heart to see you so gentle with him - to help someone who isn't on your side, your enemy. He's always wanted to see this side of you, but with your jobs constantly getting in the way, there's never been a chance to talk freely - to say more than five snarky words.

You lightly tap tissue over his knuckles, drying the droplets as you finally meet his eyeline - holding your own under his focused attention. 

His gaze darts over your face, flickering between your lips and eyes, looking like he was battling with himself. He slips his hand from your grasp and slides it up to cup your cheek - holding the side of your face as he brings you towards him. He meets you halfway, brushing his lips over yours, kissing you slow and sweet - like he was trying to savour you. 

He pulls away to look you in the eye, his own half-lidded and lazy, a smile slowly creeping on. "Should've done that months ago," he murmurs, thumbing over your cheek. 

— — — — — — — — — — ☆ — — — — — — — — — —

[jokeringcutio]

Can you make another one of the albert Shaw, but can it be a continuation from the neighbour when he meets her?

AN: Sure ♡ Enjoy :)

Drabble: Albert’s pretty neighbor - part 2

Fandom: The Black Phone (2022), Pairing: (AFAB) Reader x Albert Shaw/The Grabber Ratings: Mature Warnings: Older man x younger woman, attractive neighbor, giving you a free life hack in this, mutual attraction but neither dare act on it, crushing on a villain/the bad guy, thigh clenching, Reader likes Albert’s dog Samson.

The sun was beating down on your exposed skin. You were pulling weeds, dirty nails clawing at the earth, when you heard a soft whimper. Glancing up, you saw Samson, Albert’s hulking cane corso, watching you with those soulful eyes from the other side of the flowerbed. He was separated only from you by your neighbor’s fence, but looked like he would have jumped upon you if it hadn’t been there.

"Hey there, big guy," you cooed, wiping sweat from your brow, the sun a relentless predator above.

"Seems like Samson has taken a liking to you," came a deep, gravelly voice. Albert stood a few feet away, his chestnut hair tousled, grey-blue eyes gleaming under the falling sunlight.

"Does he now?" You chuckled, standing and brushing off your hands on your thighs. You edged closer to the fence, fingers lingering on the wooden slats. Samson's tail wagged, a slow thump against the ground.

"He's usually wary of strangers," Albert confessed, taking a step forward. His gaze never left you. "But you're different."

"Perhaps I'm attracted to the dangerous types,” you teased. The way Albert's eyes darkened, just for a second, made your skin tingle.

Had you said something wrong? Or right? "Or perhaps he senses kinship. He wants to be a good boy, I want to be a good girl," you quickly said, feeling a flutter in your stomach. "Perhaps," he murmured, almost to himself. He cleared his throat, shaking off whatever thought had gripped him. "How’s the garden coming along?"

"Slowly but surely," you sighed, glancing back at the tangled mess of plants. "Seems like every time I make progress, these weeds pop up."

"Gardening is a battle," he said softly, a strange warmth in his voice. His hands, rough and calloused, gripped the top of the fence. "But it's worth it. Beauty for all that effort."

"Yes, exactly." You smiled, feeling a connection, something unnamed sparking between you both. His presence was magnetic, drawing you in despite the age gap, despite the unknown shadows in his eyes.

"Need any help?" he offered, tilting his head, a lock of greying hair slipping over his forehead. He looked almost boyish, and you couldn't help but imagine what his touch might feel like, strong yet tender.

"That's kind of you, Albert, but…" you began, but he cut you off with a raised hand.

"Please. It's no trouble. Neighbors should help each other out." His voice was firm, authoritative, but there was an underlying softness that made you relent.

"All right then," you agreed, heart pounding as he slipped through the gate into your yard. Samson followed, a silent shadow at his master's heel.

"Let’s start over there," Albert suggested, pointing to a particularly stubborn patch of weeds. You nodded, feeling the heat of his body as he moved past you, close enough that you could smell the faint scent of cologne mixed with sweat.

"Thanks, Albert. You're very kind,” you said, kneeling down beside him. His smile was warm, but his eyes, those piercing eyes, held secrets. You wished you knew what thoughts made them darken with desire. Was it you? Your presence?

You suppressed a slight shiver. Having him near, smelling his scent, and feeling his hot skin next to your own was enticing.

"Just being neighborly," he replied, his tone light. But you couldn't shake the feeling that beneath the surface, something darker lurked. Something dangerous.

"Well, I appreciate it," you whispered, more to yourself than to him. As you worked side by side, the distance between you seemed to shrink, the air thick with unspoken words and hidden desires.

"Anytime," he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. You couldn't help but wonder what lay behind that charming facade, what shadows hid within his heart.

But for now, you let the moment linger, enjoying the rare closeness, the fleeting connection. Even if it was built on a foundation of lies and darkness.

"Anytime," he repeated, almost like a promise. And you couldn't help but hope he'd keep it.

A sudden, sharp clatter came from within Albert's house. You both froze, your breath catching in your throat. Your eyes instantly flicked to the side. Samson was there, wagging his tale, happily circling around the two of you as you worked on the flowerbed side by side.

So it wasn’t him. But Albert lived on his own, right?

A burglar?

"Did you hear that?" you asked, instantly rising from your knees.

The sound seemed to have come from his basement. A tiny window that you hadn’t noticed before, situated behind the back, lay at the source of the sound.

"Probably just Samson knocking something over," Albert said quickly, standing up and brushing off his hands. His smile was tight, eyes flickering with an uneasy light.

“Samson’s right here,” you reasoned, trying to peer through his basement window. "It sounded like it came from downstairs." Your heart pounded harder against your ribs, curiosity mingling with unease.

"Must have been the ironing plank,” Albert pressed, blocking your way before you could peer through the bars of the tiny window located slightly above the grass line. You would need to go on your hands and knees for that, but Albert prevented you from doing that, holding out a reassuring hand to signal everything was all right.

And he must be right. If he wasn’t worried, why should you be? A burglar? Unlikely. Nothing as exciting as that had happened in Denver for ages. You were scaring yourself now for no reason.

“Did some of my ironing there earlier today,” he explained in such a calm voice that you felt the tenseness leave your muscles. You slowly started to relax, noticing the delighted spark in Albert’s eyes as he watched you visibly getting less tense.

“It probably fell over. Might not have set it against the wall properly," he insisted, his tone firmer now.

"How about coming inside for a drink? It's awfully hot out here."

You considered for a moment, then nodded. "Sure, why not?"

Albert led the way into his house, his demeanor shifting from tense to overly casual. You followed, eyes darting around, taking in the neatness of his home. He clearly lived here on his own. No signs of belongings of anyone else. Not that you expected it. You knew he was a bachelor in his fifties, working an ordinary job and living an ordinary life.

Plus, you had seen his home before. He often invited you over for a drink. You figured it made him feel less lonely, that it was nice for him to talk to someone. And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to be near him. You took every opportunity to be by his side – to hear more about him, listen to that deep and dark voice, watch those bright blue eyes roam over your body, and fantasize that there could be more between you.

Yet… Everything is in its place, but too perfect. Too controlled.

Samson padded behind you, tail still waggling with delight. You flashed him a small smile before looking back at Albert who had come to a halt and was waiting for you to catch up.

"Make yourself comfortable," he said, gesturing to the living room. He disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with two cans of soda. He handed you one, fingers grazing yours for just a second longer than necessary.

"Thanks," you murmured, taking a sip. His kitchen lacked a certain variety, you mused silently.  

You watched him how his eyes darkened, unreadable, as he took a long sip.

"So? Ironing eh?" you said. “Share?”

"Not much to tell," he replied with a shrug, though his eyes betrayed a flicker of something deeper. "Did the laundry.”

“You don’t seem to wear anything that needs ironing. Not a lot anyway,” you said, feeling the heat rush through you as you realized you were looking him up and down. His pants perhaps, you thought.

“I wear shirts,” he said in his defense, to which you sputtered and stifled a laugh.

“Hang them to dry on a clothes hanger. No ironing needed, guaranteed.”

The thoughtful expression on Albert’s face made you laugh openly now.

“What? You never thought of that before?”

“Not yet, no,” he reluctantly admitted, but with that small curl of his lips that indicated he enjoyed this banter. His fingers curled tighter around the can he was holding. The fact you noticed this betrayed how you fixated on him.

“I’m just an average guy, trying to get by," he murmured, voice low and not average at all. Not with the way he made the heat rush between your legs, squeezing them together and silently wishing he hadn’t noticed. You clung a little tighter to your own soda can as well, hoping the coolness of the can would cool you down as well.

"Somehow, I don't believe that," you teased, leaning forward slightly. "Everyone has their secrets."

"Maybe," he said softly, his gaze locking onto yours. "But some things are better left buried."

"Is that what you think?" you challenged, feeling a thrill run through you.

"Absolutely," he replied, voice dropping to a whisper.

A silence fell as you tried to think of something clever to say. Your eyes rested upon him, curious, filled with want. You wanted to know more about him, wanted to know why he seemed to have this dangerous edge to him when all he had shown you to be was a nice and helpful neighbor. Attractive too.

Was it all just in your mind?

That was when you noticed Albert sat frozen. His lips parted, his fingers twitching. And only then did you realize that Albert's hand hovered above your knee, fingertips trembling. The air between you thickened, charged with unspoken desire. Your breath hitched, heart pounding like a wild drum.

You wanted him to touch you, needed it.

But just like that… he pulled back, eyes flickering with restraint. He didn’t allow you the time to interpret what it was that you had seen in his eyes, for he turned away from you, twisting his torso as he set his can aside. His gaze shifted, catching on the clock on the wall.

"Damn," he hissed, low and urgent. "I have to go."

"Work?" you asked, voice tinged with regret.

"Yes," he said, standing abruptly. The spell shattered, reality rushing back in.

You knew he had traded a shift with one of his colleagues. He had told you earlier when you were both working in your garden. So, for him to announce he had to leave shouldn’t have come as a surprise.

You followed him to the door, each step heavy with unmet longing. You watched as he picked up his vest on the way, throwing it on, grabbing a bag he must have prepared earlier with… dinner?

Then he pushed the door open, holding it for you. He turned, his usual charm slipping back into place. “Ladies first,” he gallantly said, making you smile.

You accepted the gesture and stepped outside, instantly feeling the hot summer sun beat down on you.

"Have a good day at work," you said, smiling.

"Thank you," he said, smiling softly in turn. It was as if your smile had been infectious. His eyes twinkled with something. Mirth? "Take care of yourself."

"Always," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady.

"And how could I forget you!” You almost exclaimed, leaning over to signal Samson to come closer. The dog padded over, tail wagging. You felt Albert’s burning gaze. Was he studying you?

“I’m gonna miss you,” you mewled. “Be a good boy, okay?” You petted his back, then rose again and nodded once more to Albert – a silent sign saying ‘thank you’.

He returned the nod. “We’ll have to do this again, sometime,” he said. And was that a rasp in his voice?

You couldn’t help but smile brightly, excited at the promise of being close to him again. “Of course,” he hadn’t even needed to suggest it. You’d take any excuse to hang out with him.

His eyes locked with yours, dark and swirling with a silent storm – all sorts of emotions you had difficulty naming.

"See you soon." Albert murmured, patting the dog's head. But his eyes were fixed on you, sending a delightful shiver down your spine.

"Yeah, see you soon," you said, stepping away from his porch. The door closed behind you, and you heard the click of the lock. With another wave, Albert made his way to his van. You watched as he drove away and finally let out a deep sigh.

Then you turned away, walking back to your own garden, the memory of his hovering hand burning in your mind.

[whocaresimnothere]

Echoes of Obsession: Yandere Alastor x Reader

The air in Hell was heavy with the scent of sulphur and decay as you made your way through the labyrinthine streets, the shadows of twisted spires casting ominous silhouettes against the blood-red sky. Despite the oppressive atmosphere, you carried yourself with a sense of purpose, your steps echoing against the cobblestone pavement.

It was on one such night, amidst the flickering glow of dimly lit lanterns, that you caught the attention of Alastor, the infamous Radio Demon. Clad in his signature pinstripe suit and adorned with a devilish grin, he emerged from the darkness like a phantom, his crimson eyes ablaze with curiosity.

"Ah, what have we here?" Alastor's voice cut through the night like a razor, his words dripping with charm and intrigue. "A lost soul wandering the streets of my domain. How delightful."

You regarded him with a mixture of caution and fascination, drawn to the enigmatic aura that surrounded him like a shroud. Despite the warnings whispered in the dark corners of Hell, you couldn't deny the allure of Alastor's presence, the promise of adventure and danger beckoning like a siren's call.

"Forgive me if I seem forward, my dear," Alastor continued, his grin widening into a predatory smile. "But I simply couldn't resist the opportunity to make your acquaintance. After all, a soul as captivating as yours is a rare find indeed."

Despite the warning bells ringing in the back of your mind, you found yourself unable to resist Alastor's charm, his words weaving a seductive spell around you. With a hesitant smile, you accepted his offer of companionship, unaware of the dark path that lay ahead.

Little did you know, your fateful encounter with Alastor was only the beginning of a twisted courtship that would plunge you into the depths of obsession and despair, where the shadows of Hell would close in around you like a suffocating embrace.

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

As days turned into nights and nights into a seemingly endless cycle of darkness, your interactions with Alastor grew more frequent, his presence becoming an ever-present shadow in your life. At first, his attentions were flattering, his words honeyed and his gestures seemingly innocent. But beneath the surface, a darkness lurked—a darkness that threatened to consume you whole.

"You're quite the fascinating soul, my dear," Alastor would murmur, his voice dripping with honeyed charm as he gazed at you with a predatory gleam in his crimson eyes. "There's something about you that simply captivates me."

Despite the warning bells ringing in the back of your mind, you couldn't deny the allure of Alastor's presence. His charisma was undeniable, his charm a potent elixir that left you intoxicated and craving more.

But as Alastor's behavior grew more erratic and possessive, a creeping sense of unease began to gnaw at your insides. His once-charming demeanor gave way to bouts of jealousy and rage, his affections bordering on the edge of madness.

"You belong to me, and me alone," Alastor would declare, his voice laced with a dangerous edge as he watched you with possessive eyes. "No one else can have you. No one else will ever have you."

At first, you attempted to brush aside your growing unease, chalking it up to the peculiarities of Hell's denizens. But as Alastor's manipulation grew more insidious, you couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of dread worm its way into your heart.

The shadows whispered secrets of Alastor's true nature, warning you of the danger that lurked beneath his charming facade. But try as you might to resist, you found yourself drawn deeper into his orbit, unable to break free from the gravitational pull of his obsession.

"It's for your own good, my dear," Alastor would soothe, his voice like silk as he reached out to caress your cheek with a gloved hand. "I only want what's best for you. Can't you see that?"

His words were like a siren's song, luring you deeper into the abyss with promises of love and protection. But deep down, you knew that Alastor's affections were anything but pure—that his love was a twisted reflection of obsession and possession.

It wasn't long before Alastor's possessiveness turned into outright manipulation, his every word and action designed to keep you tethered to him like a puppet on a string. You found yourself trapped in a twisted dance of desire and deceit, your own emotions playing against you as you struggled to untangle yourself from Alastor's suffocating grasp.

Yet amidst the chaos and despair of Hell, a glimmer of hope remained—a flickering flame of defiance burning bright in the darkness. With each passing day, you resolved to break free from Alastor's clutches, to defy the shadows that threatened to consume you whole and reclaim your autonomy in a world ruled by madness and obsession.

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

In the depths of Hell, where shadows twisted and whispered secrets of madness, you found yourself ensnared in a deadly dance of deception with Alastor, the Radio Demon whose obsession knew no bounds.

As the days stretched into weeks and the weeks into an eternity of darkness, you struggled to maintain a facade of compliance while plotting your escape from Alastor's suffocating grasp. Every smile, every touch, every whispered endearment was a lie—a carefully crafted illusion designed to keep you tethered to him, to feed his insatiable hunger for control.

But beneath the mask of obedience, a fire burned bright—a flame of defiance that refused to be extinguished. With each passing moment, you honed your cunning, biding your time until the opportunity presented itself to break free from Alastor's clutches and reclaim your freedom.

Yet amidst the chaos and despair of Hell, Alastor's hold on you only seemed to tighten, his manipulation growing more insidious with each passing day. His words were like poison, seeping into your mind and clouding your judgment as he whispered sweet promises of love and protection.

"You're mine, my dear," Alastor would murmur, his voice a seductive melody that echoed in the recesses of your mind. "Forever and always. There's no escaping me."

But you refused to be caged like a bird, your spirit burning bright with the fires of rebellion. With each passing day, you plotted and schemed, laying the groundwork for your eventual escape from Alastor's clutches.

And then, one fateful night, as the shadows danced and the echoes of madness filled the air, the opportunity presented itself—a fleeting moment of weakness in Alastor's carefully constructed facade.

With a heart pounding with adrenaline and determination, you seized the chance, slipping away into the darkness like a phantom in the night. Behind you, you could hear Alastor's enraged screams, his promises of vengeance echoing in the empty corridors of Hell.

But you paid them no mind, for you were free—free from the chains of obsession and manipulation, free to forge your own path amidst the chaos and despair of Hell's eternal night.

As you disappeared into the shadows, a sense of liberation washed over you—a feeling of triumph amidst the darkness, as you vowed to never again be ensnared in the deadly dance of deception with Alastor, the Radio Demon whose obsession knew no bounds.

"You cannot escape me, my dear," Alastor's voice echoed in the darkness, a chilling reminder of the dangers that lurked in the shadows. "I will find you, no matter where you hide. And when I do, there will be no mercy."

But you paid his threats no heed, for you knew that you were stronger than the darkness that sought to consume you—that no matter what horrors awaited you in the depths of Hell, you would face them head-on, armed with nothing but your courage and the knowledge that you had escaped the clutches of a yandere's obsession.

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

In the wake of your daring escape from Alastor's clutches, the air in Hell crackled with tension and anticipation. Every shadow seemed to whisper his name, every echo carried the echo of his rage as he searched for you with a relentless determination.

But you were not afraid, for you had faced the darkness head-on and emerged victorious. With each passing moment, your resolve grew stronger, fueled by the fire of defiance that burned bright within your heart.

And then, one fateful night, as the echoes of madness filled the air and the shadows danced in the flickering light of torches, you came face to face with Alastor once more.

There he stood, his crimson eyes ablaze with fury, his form wreathed in the darkness of his own making. But despite his formidable presence, you did not falter, for you knew that you had already won the battle for your freedom.

"You thought you could escape me, my dear," Alastor's voice echoed in the darkness, a chilling reminder of the danger that lurked in the shadows. "But you were wrong. You belong to me, body and soul. And I will not rest until you are mine once more."

And with that, your world went black.

[starjedi86]

Keep you safe

Summary: Hunter comforts you after a nightmare.

Pairing: Hunter x female reader

Prompt: “Of course I'd keep you safe."

Warnings: Angst but fluff at the end.

Word Count: 1288

Authors Note: Thank you @ghostofskywalker for organizing this exchange!

This is my gift for @frostycatblr-fandom-files for the @cloneficgiftexchange . I hope you enjoy it!

The Marauder cruised through the vast expanse of space, its hull creaking softly as it traveled through hyperspace. Inside, the hum of the engines provided a comforting backdrop to the stillness of the night. All the members of the Bad Batch were fast asleep, having completed one of Cid's missions while simultaneously trying to go unnoticed and hide from the empire.

You lay curled up on the small pillow in your bunk, seeking deep rest after a day filled with both emotion and danger. Hunter, your faithful love and protector, lay beside you, his presence always a source of comfort in the darkness. Despite the dangers that lurked beyond the Marauder's walls, within its confines, you found solace in each other's arms during moments of rest like this one.

As sleep finally enveloped you, you were thrust into a world of darkness and despair: a nightmare born from the depths of your subconscious. You found yourself in a darkened place, escaping from an unseen adversary.

Despite your efforts to run as swiftly as possible, their pursuit grew ever closer, their voices gradually becoming discernible: the Empire had finally tracked you down. Glancing back, you saw your loyal companions running alongside you, particularly Hunter, urging you to hasten your pace. But no matter how swiftly you attempted to move, escape remained elusive.

Suddenly, a misstep sent you tumbling to the ground, vulnerable to the approaching troopers. Desperately, you struggled to break free, only to witness Hunter's capture alongside you, surrounded by overwhelming numbers.

Then, in a cruel twist of fate, the sound of gunfire shattered the night, and you watched in horror as the love of your life fell, grievously wounded and seemingly lifeless. Each image carved itself into your mind with vivid clarity, intensifying the fear that gripped your soul.

Suddenly, you felt someone shaking you urgently and desperately, the images of the nightmare becoming increasingly blurry. With a gasp, you were ripped from the depths of sleep, your heart racing in your chest. Blinking away the remnants of the nightmare, you found yourself staring into Hunter's concerned eyes. His hand kept shaking your arm, trying to rouse you from the terrible dream that had gripped you.

You knew that he had likely heard your murmurs and cries while you slept. After all, his sleep was never deep, and his heightened senses often made him aware of your distress before you were fully awake.

"Cyare, are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft with concern.

Tears welled up in your eyes as you met his gaze. In that moment you were still reeling from the horrors of the very real nightmare you had experienced.

"Come here," he said, still looking at you with concern but also gently attempting to comfort you.

You automatically moved towards him, wrapping your arms around him tightly and burying your face in his chest as you cried, seeking solace from the terrors that haunted your mind. Hunter's arms enveloped you, holding you close as he whispered soothing words.

“It was just a dream,” he murmured, his voice always a constant source of comfort that always helped calm you whenever your thoughts spiraled into chaos. "You're safe now, I promise."

Hunter continued to hold you close, his arms a steady anchor amidst the storm of emotions raging within you. You sobbed quietly against his chest, the remnants of the nightmare still lingering in your thoughts.

Gradually, as his reassuring words and comforting presence surrounded you, the tide of fear began to subside, replaced by a sense of security in his embrace.

Minutes passed in silence, broken only by the occasional sniffle as you regained control of your emotions and thoughts. Finally, Hunter gently pulled away from you, his hands cupping your face as he met your gaze with unwavering determination.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress or fear.

You shook your head slightly, unable to find the right words to articulate the horrors that had plagued your dreams. Instead, you offered only a vague description, omitting the details; the mere mention of the Empire was enough to send a shiver down your spine.

Hunter listened silently, his expression a mask of worry as he absorbed each word. When you finally fell silent, he squeezed your hand reassuringly and gently caressed your cheek with the other, his voice firm and resolute.

"I won't let anything happen to you," he swore, his voice filled with determination. "You're incredibly important to me, and I'll ensure they never lay a hand on you, I promise."

His unwavering conviction filled you with a sense of reassurance, dispelling the lingering doubts that had clouded your mind. Whenever you were close to him, you felt loved and protected. However, despite his assurances, a lingering fear still gnawed at the edges of your consciousness.

"But what if they find us?" you whispered, fear resurfacing with renewed intensity, tears welling up in your eyes once more. "And if they capture us, or worse..."

Hunter's gaze softened as he wiped away the tears streaming down your cheeks with his thumb. "I won't let that happen, trust me, cyare," he repeated, his voice brimming with determination.

Meeting his gaze, you searched his eyes for any hint of uncertainty. "If anything happened, you’d always protect me, right?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, a tremor of fear still evident in your tone.

"Of course I'd keep you safe," Hunter replied without hesitation, his words a comforting reassurance in the face of uncertainty.

Feeling a rush of gratitude and love for the man who had become your rock in this turbulent galaxy, you threw your arms around him once more, holding him close as if to anchor yourself in his unwavering strength.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the hum of the ship's engines.

Hunter's embrace tightened around you, his voice a soft murmur against your ear. "I love you too, cyare,” he whispered, his words a tender declaration of his affection.

After a few moments, Hunter gently broke the embrace, his gaze meeting yours with concern. "Feeling any better?" he asked softly.

You nodded, offering him a small smile. "Yes, I'm better now," you replied, your voice still laced with traces of emotion.

Returning your smile, Hunter reassured you once more. "I'll always be here to protect you, cyare,” he promised, his words filled with firm resolve. “I'll never let anyone hurt you. Over my dead body"

Feeling a sense of warmth and gratitude wash over you, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He returned the kiss, holding you close in his arms as if to shield you from the galaxy's troubles.

Seconds later, as the kiss broke, you looked up at him, gratitude shining in your eyes. "Thank you, love, for always being there for me," you said softly.

Hunter's expression softened, his love for you evident in every glance he gave you. "There's nothing to thank me for," he replied gently. "I do it because I love you."

A surge of affection flooded your heart at his words. "I love you too," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

With that, you rested your head against Hunter's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your cheek. He tenderly ran his fingers through your hair, a gesture of comfort and reassurance in the quiet refuge of the Marauder.

As you lay there, enveloped in the warmth of his embrace, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, as long as you had Hunter by your side, you would always find peace, protection and solace in his love.