#Green bastard t shirt

[teatreeoilll]

2006

“No - No - Don’t put it in your bag. Gojo - Seriously, stop.”

“Well we need to put it somewhere, don’t we?”

“Alright. Alright - Let me hold it. We just need to think of something smart - ow! Little bastard. If you bite me again I’ll leave you here.” At the edge of the street stands the rubble of the house Gojo destroyed half an hour ago - together with the curse in it. The other houses surrounding you look run-down and uninhibited, blending with the rain clouds on the horizon. “I don’t really mean it,” You whisper.

Gojo leans forward and rubs the head of the tiny gray kitten you’re holding. The kitten hisses back at him. “I don’t think he likes us.”

“What makes you think he’s a he - ow! Maybe it’s a she,” You lift the kitten up, but it only digs its tiny claws further into your hand. “Alright, I won’t check -” You bring it closer to your chest, rubbing it on the head to calm it down, and look back up at Gojo, “But we need to figure out what to do with it.”

“Shoko can take care of its leg.” Gojo points to a nasty wound on the kitten, “And then we’ll just put it in your room.”

“My room? Why not your room?”

“Aw, come on. It’s just for a little while - look, it’s already purring. I bet it thinks you’re his mom.”

“Yaga will kill us.”

Gojo’s lips curl up in a familiar smirk, “Only if he finds out.”

“Fine. But you’re buying the cat food.”

-

“Gojo -” You whisper into the dark hallway, “Gojo - Wake up!”

A few seconds go by and the door creaks open. Gojo’s still halfway into putting on his t-shirt, “What is it?” You stare a moment too long at his abs, “If that’s what you came for I’ll take it off -”

“Don’t be dumb, you oversized noodle. Something’s wrong with the kitten.”

Inside your room, Shoko and Geto are kneeling on the floor over the kitten. All your hear are quiet retching sounds and worried whispers.

“He keeps coughing up like that. Do you think he’s sick?” You ask as you and Gojo kneel with the others, looking at the little kitten shaking its head, “Maybe we need to take him to a vet.”

The kitten wobbles a bit when it moves towards Gojo. “Come here little one,” Gojo whispers as if no one can hear him, “What’s wrong with you? Huh?” He runs a finger between the kitten’s ears. It climbs onto his knees, then wretches again, unleashing a surprisingly big and slimy hairball on Gojo’s lap.

“Oh - God - That’s -” Gojo takes the kitten off his knees. He swears it’s smirking at him. The room is silent for a moment before you let out a snort, and everyone but Gojo howls with laughter. “Quit laughing! D’you have a wet wipe or something?”

“I -” You huff out laughing, wiping the tears pooling in your eyes, “I thought it was sick -”

Geto’s cheeks are bright red and he’s folded almost in half as he sucks sharp breaths through bouts of laughter, “Good thing you called Satoru, poor thing just needed something to look at to get him to vomit -”

“Seriously! Stop laughing and get me towel or something -”

In the doorway, Masamichi Yaga clears his throat.

-

“I’m not saying get rid of it.” The little kitten strolls on papers on Yaga’s desk. Rain hammers on the window glass. “Just put it back where it came from.”

“How can we put it back where it came from?” You retort, “It’s tiny! It’ll freeze, or it’ll starve or -”

The kitten looks up, its green eyes pointed straight at Yaga’s stern expression. Yaga sighs.

“Come on, Yaga -” Gojo bats his white eyelashes as if he’s the one about to get kicked out in the rain. Yaga sighs again.

“You can’t keep it in your room anymore,” Yaga says as he takes the kitten from the desk and places it on his lap, “But we’ll figure something out. Now get to bed, all of you.”

-

2017

“Mochi!” Gojo ducks down to pet the cat as he exits the building. It hisses back at him. “You’re getting old now, you little monster. You better start making amends soon.”

“Earl still doesn’t like you, huh?” You chuckle, coming out from the building after him.

“I don’t know how he likes you after you named him Earl.” Gojo looks down at the cat, who left him to rub on your feet. “Bootlicker,” he mutters under his breath.

“Don’t be jealous, Satoru,” Shoko’s smoking a cigarette by the entrance, “Winston can sense it.”

“Don’t even let me get started about naming a cat after a pack of cigarettes -”

“Oh and Mochi’s better?” You chuckle, petting Earl on the head, “Even though nothing beats Yaga who just calls him “Cat” or Suguru’s ‘Bruce Lee’ -”

Suguru. There’s a silence.

Earl meows. “Aw - Earl, you want a treat?” You reach into your pocket, “Lucky for you I came prepared.”

Gojo chuckles, “If I meow, will you -”

“Definitely not, Satoru.”

“Are you sure?” Gojo drawls, leaning forward for his face to be an inch from yours, “Because I’ll meow if I have to.”

You roll your eyes and press a chaste kiss on his lips, “Please don’t meow.”

#lil drabble #gojo x you #gojo x reader #gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader fluff #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojou satoru x y/n #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk x reader fluff

[hoshigray]

Repeat that for Daddy...

Okay, walk with me on this one: you and Toji are lying on the bed enjoying the acts of "coupling", and you accidentally call him "daddy"? Obviously, it was a slip-up in the heat of the moment, but unfortunately, it's Toji. He won't stop until you say what you just said.

A/n: I'm totally not writing this to compensate for the fact I haven't posted pt ii of the assassin duo toji x reader drabble yet :) Which tysm for 500+ notes btw!!! Please enjoy this while I finish that fic for y'all~~

Cw: dom! Toji x fem! reader - fingering (fem! receiving) - daddy kink (it's an awakening for Toji) - pet names (baby, darlin', good girl, mama, sweetheart, sweetie) - praise - clitoral play (Toji pinches your clit bc he's a bastard) - pussy slaps (2x) - a bit of comedy.

Wc: 893

One of Toji's favorite things to do when you two are relaxing in the confines of your home is cuddling with you. It was a foreign thing you introduced to him in the early stages of your relationship, but now he likes to do it when the chance is present.

Having your body close to him tells him that you see him as a dependable figure and that you feel safe in his presence. Which he cherishes deeply. And it's a guilty pleasure when you let him have his hands roam your body.

And it's even more of a guilty pleasure when you let him play with your pussy.

The lewd sounds of Toji's fingers messing with your pussy and your ecstatic moans fill the bedroom, the television volume stationed low so he can focus on your face and expressions.

"Mmmm, Toji, A-Ahhh!."

He's lying on his side with his head resting on his hand, facing your squirming body with his forefinger and middle finger in your slit. You lay on your back next to him, gripping his shirt to the point his midriff shows.

"I'm here, baby," Toji kisses your forehead, trailing down to your neck and shoulder. "I'm right here."

He loves it when you're like this, being in this intimate space where you trust him to do as he pleases with your body. He wants to listen to your mewls and gasps because they're the sweetest sounds he's ever heard. Your watery, half-lidded eyes look up at him, the man who makes you appear so disarranged with his touch.

Toji loves moments like this, loves being with you, loves you.

"Feelin' good, darlin'?" He asks, kissing your collarbone where he'll definitely leave a mark for you to find later on. "You're doin' so well fr' me."

"Haaaaah, yes, yesss," you hiss, biting your bottom lip when Toji's thumb faintly brushes on your clit. His thick fingers scrape the velvety walls of your cunt at a lovingly slow pace that has you inching toward a climax.

"Oh God, Tojiii, I'm going to— Ahaaa!!" You're so close to coming, almost there. "I wanna cum on your fingers, Daddy..."

Toji's kisses are halted, his fingers freeze inside your slick-coated vulva, and even you stay still with wide eyes staring up at the bedroom ceiling. White noise from the television substitutes the silence.

Toji brings his face up to look at you, and your eyes move to the side, trying to find anything to look at except the deep forest green eyes drilling into your face.

"What did you say, sweetie?"

You act innocent. "Huh?"

Toji smirks. "If you can 'huh,' you can hear. You said somethin'. What did you say?

"Uhh, I said I wanna chow on some chicken fingers, darling."

"That's not what you said. And we ate two hours ago."

"T-True!" You squeak, squeezing around Toji"s digits. He raises a brow, his smirk still confidently plastered on his face. "But I know how much you have a big appetite, and who can say no to dinosaur-shaped nugge- Eyyaaah!!!"

It happened so quickly; Toji's fingers exit your tight opening and pinch your clitoris, applying pressure between his thumb and forefinger. The abrupt action has you screaming, and all Toji does is snicker.

"Don't play with me, sweetheart," he says to your ear in his guttural tone. A hearty laugh seethes through his lips when you jerk up from the impact of his hand slapping your pussy. You shed a single tear, and Toji snaps a mental picture. Another slap, another cry. "What's my new name, baby?"

"D-Daddy!!" You swallow the drool pooling in your mouth before choking on it. Pain stinging on the poor swollen lips of your vagina from the cruel treatment, your mind feels foggy. The feeling of regret clouds your thoughts, wondering why you let that word out. And worse, giving the title to a man with an ego bigger than anyone you've ever known. I should've kept my mouth shut...

But you can't deny the puddle that's leaking through your cunt.

Toji grins hard, his scar rooted upwards for his teeth to flash with the light coming from the TV. "Good girl." His fingers snake back into your folds, and you whimper into his touch as his digits go faster than before. "Can you call me that again, mama?"

"Mmmph!! Daddyyy, too fast, 's too fa— Oohhh!!" You grip his shirt again, finding support close to him. Your pants and breathing feel so heavy you nearly choke.

"Gonna cum, baby?" You nod rapidly. He loves when you're desperate. "Go ahead, cum on Daddy, darlin'." His thumb then moves directly to your clit, pushing and grinding down on it, and that was it for you.

You cream around his fingers, walls clenching down on him as your legs wobble in ecstasy. Tears stream down your eyes as you finish your orgasm.

Toji's fingers finally withdraw once your spasm ends, and strings of your fluids stick to him like honey. "Good job, mama," he puts the fingers in his mouth and licks them, deep groans as he's sucking in your essence. He then kisses your lips, giving you a taste of yourself as you exchange tongues.

Toji departs from your plump lips, cocking his head with a small smile. "You outta call me that more often, starting to like it."

#𝑯𝒐𝒔𝒉𝒊 ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ 𝑾𝒓𝒊𝒕𝒆𝒔: 𝑭𝒊𝒄𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒔 #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk thirsts #jjk imagines #jujutsu toji #toji #toji fushiguro #toji fushiguro smut #toji smut #toji x reader #toji x female reader #toji x y/n #toji headcanons #dilf toji #toji thirst #smut #drabble #toji drabbles #anime smut #edit: fixed a typo so we gucci

[toji-girl]

t. fushiguro

original ask: toji req!!! if u r still taking reqs, could u possibly do toji x pregnant!reader ? maybe like a rlly sexually frustrated reader and reader wants toji to help them outt 🌝

tags: 18+ only content - mdni + repost from my old blog + pregnant! fem reader + pregnancy sex + fingering + squirting + begging + finger sucking + you call him daddy once + cowgirl + unprotected sex + creampie + you're Gumi's mom + I want him to put a baby in me so bad it's actually worrisome

It seemed that everything had turned sexual in nature as of late, which only made you think it was a cosmic joke of sorts with the way you were pent up and needy for a good orgasm that left you dizzy.

Being seven months pregnant your self-confidence took a bit of a dip but your husband, Toji always made sure you knew that he thought you were sexy as hell pregnant with his baby then life got in the way.

It was busy between having to take care of your toddler while keeping up with the house and finding time for your friends who adored your son so that meant they were over quite a lot. "I need one of you to watch him tonight please?" You asked them with a plea in your voice.

They all looked at each other, your three closest friends knew what you needed, you've become snappy with them even, and at first, they chalked it up to pregnancy hormones until you told them that you haven't had sex in weeks during a girls night a few weeks ago.

"It's not like you can get pregnant," Hina teased making everyone laugh even you as you swatted at her playfully watching Megumi play on the playground with his friends.

You rolled your eyes and gave her a slotted time to pick Gumi up and bid them goodbye before you and Megumi took off back home to get ready for dinner and a bath before he left and Toji came home.

When he did two hours later, he was greeted with darkness and silence which only made a rush of anxiety to settle in his veins as he called your name out then Megumi who would always greet him.

"Babe?" He called out again and slipped his shoes off seeing the rose petals scattered along the floor, his eyebrows rose as he followed the trail of red to the bedroom where he toed open the door to see you on the bed dressed in his favorite lingerie set and candles flickered about the room with soft music that set the mood.

You sat up when he entered feeling your face flush with warmth. "Hi baby, how was your day? Megumi is staying the night with Hina so it's just us, I miss you so much." You whispered in a soft tone looking at him as you held your hand out with a knowing smile.

Toji was quick to shed his shirt sharing the same desires as you, you glowed in the warm light of the candles making his chest ache. "Darlin', I missed you too, and my day is better now that I get to see my very sexy pregnant wife dressed up just for me, I'm one lucky bastard." He drawled and slid his hand into yours kissing your knuckles as he kneeled between your spread legs.

Your eyes met his in a heated gaze as you threaded your fingers threaded through his raven locks. "I want you to undress me, eat my pussy and fuck me. I'm serious when I say I need you so bad it aches."

He leaned in to kiss you deeply, his hand sliding to hold the back of your neck as his other hand cupped your heavy breasts filled with milk before he moved to your back to unclasp your bra freeing your tits to his greedy palms. "I know baby, I'm right here now, let me take care of you," Toji murmured breaking the kiss to look at you again.

Desire and lust danced in his green eyes as he watched you lean back using your hands to prop yourself up to see him spread your thighs more to watch him bury his face between your legs inhaling deeply.

Heat filled your cheeks as he hooked one large finger under the soft material to move it to the side to kiss your pussy lightly, his nose nuzzled against your clit as his tongue tantalizingly dipped between your lips hearing you gasp and whine his name. "Daddy, please!"

His cock throbbed and leaked between his thick thighs hearing you sigh his name and grind your hips as your fingers curled into the soft blanket as he kissed and sucked on your clit now making out with your cunt messily growing drunk on your taste and smell.

"You have the prettiest pussy, you know that? I could kiss her forever, and since she's mine I think I might just do that for tonight." He muttered out loud as he spread you open to see your hole clench.

He chuckled and leaned back in to dip his tongue in tasting you wholly making your legs quiver as his fingers joined in curling when he slid them inside you slowly, the rough tips grazed your g-spot just in time for his tongue to circle your clit making you cry out.

Your back arched as you panted closing your eyes and getting lost in the pleasure you ached for, it wasn't long before you squirted making a mess of the bed and the front of Toji's pants. "Good girl, making such a mess." He grunted in a deep tone as he pulled back a little.

His eyes were glassy and low as he stood to his full height pulling his pants and boxers off to reveal his dick that pulsed with the need to be buried deep inside you, your hand came up to stroke him from base to tip hearing him suck in a breath. "Ah - sweetheart, it's all about you tonight, want to ride me? I know that's easier for you." He murmured.

"I would usually argue because I love giving you blowjobs but I don't think I can wait anymore, yes please let me ride you." You begged with a whine and watery eyes as he laid on his side of the bed helping you straddle him but not before you slipped your panties off.

Now naked and bathed in the soft glow of the candles you interlocked your fingers with his as your other hand held the base of his cock to line him before sinking down slowly until he bottomed out making you gasp feeling so full and stretched out. "Fuck yes!" You hissed and slowly rode him taking your sweet time feeling him.

His hands skated over your bare body like a map he's studied for years and he has, Toji knew the spots to kiss and touch to have you putty in his hands. "You look so good riding me, not a prettier sight in the world." He groaned letting his head fall back on the pillow.

Your own hands were greedy feeling him up, his body was broad and heavily corded with muscles that you adored and his happy trail that you rubbed with the heel of your palm. "And you look so good under me, the most handsome man who happens to be all mine? I think I'm dreaming." You teased leaning down the best you could to kiss him.

With your swollen belly it was hard so Toji met you more than halfway to return the needy kiss tangling his tongue with yours as he caressed your sides before helping you ride him, the sticky head of his cock kissed your cervix each time you sat back down on him.

"I could pinch ya if you want?" He suggested pinching the fat of your ass gently making you huff and gasp before slapping his hand away playfully with a groan and giggle when he hit a particular spot.

You pushed on his chest gently and ground your hips back and forth which in turn rubbed your clit against his pelvic bone lulling you more into the high you wanted to chase again, your body felt warm and gooey as you continued to fuck him slowly panting and moaning.

Green eyes gazed up at you with pure adoration at how you looked and moaned his name, his woman in her primal need for him made his balls tighten with the need to cum but he wanted you to do that before he did. "Cum for me pretty girl, cum on my cock." He urged.

You did just that, your pussy clenched around him so tightly he swore for a moment that it was going to get ripped off. "Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You feel so fuckin' good." He grunted gripping your hips tightly.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head drawing out his orgasm by bucking his hips up a little. Toji waited for his body to return to a semi-solid state instead of feeling like goo before he turned you to your side gently with him still inside you kissing your forehead.

"I'm not done with you yet sweetheart, we just need a break and some water. We have all night and I have to make up for the time we missed." He told you with a slight chuckle making sure you were good before sliding out of you with a soft grunt before making his way to the kitchen in search of snacks and drinks for the next round.

#tw: pregnancy #toji x reader smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #toji smut #toji x you smut #toji x yn smut #jjk x reader #toji fushiguro smut #toji x pregnant reader #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

[whateveriwant]

No thoughts, just Punk!Simon.

Punk!Simon who dresses like he shops exclusively at Hot Topic. We're talking band t-shirts, combat boots, leather anything he can get his hands on. His style is bold, accessories maximized, and his entire wardrobe can be condensed into one of three colors: black, gray, and dark gray.

Punk!Simon who likes to wear lots of jewelry. Thick chains, bulky rings, decorative pins pressed into his jackets. His pieces are mostly silver and always real, none of that fake, turn your skin green shit. Keep him far away from metal detectors because he will set them off.

Punk!Simon who listens to only the grungiest of grunge rock music. Ask him for recommendations and he's spouting off six or seven bands that are so underground they may as well reside in the Earth's mantle. Don't leave him in charge of the playlist when driving together unless you want a bad case of tinnitus for the next four hours.

Punk!Simon who’s tatted up to high heaven. You thought he only had his left sleeve done, until you saw him working out without his shirt on one day. Turns out it doesn't just stop at his shoulder, but continues downward, wrapping around his trunk like vines of black and gray ivy.

Punk!Simon who's sporting more than one set of piercings. You ask him how many he has and (with a smirk) he tells you six, and you try to take a mental tally of the ones you've seen. 1) eyebrow 2) industrial 3) nostril 4) snake bites 5) areolas 6) . . . 6) . . . . . Huh. Where's the sixth?

Punk!Simon who experiments with a little body modification. Not just the normal piercings and tattoos, but things many people would consider to be on the more extreme side. Stretched lobes, sharpened canines, . . . bifurcated tongue? 👀

Punk!Simon who, on an uncharacteristically unmasked day, grabs your attention as you enjoy a round of drinks with friends. One minute you were sitting there, chatting, just minding your business, and the next your gaze was locked onto Simon's tongue as it darted out from in between his plump lips. You tried not to let your eyes linger, but you couldn't help it. You'd never seen something like that before in person. A tongue split right down the center, cut with surgical precision from the looks of it. It had clearly been done on purpose, not an accident or deformity, but you hadn't expected to see it as you watched him lick away a bourbon droplet from the corner of his mouth. As you stare, said mouth then curves slyly, impish, into a grin just shy of wicked. The movement makes your eyes dart upwards, where they meet Simon's, and he's giving you a look that says one thing: Caught you.

With that taunting expression, Simon turns in his seat, plants his elbows on the table, and blocks out the rest of your group as he asks lowly, “Somethin’ the matter, sweet’eart?”

His tone makes you startle, eyes rounding in surprise, mouth fluttering open and closed like a flailing fish. “N-No, I was– I– You– I–”

“Wha's wrong?” His brow furrows, teasing. “Cat got your tongue?”

Oh, the bastard.

But the reminder has your gaze dropping back to his lips unthinkingly, almost like you secretly wish he'll grant you another peek for your sick fascination.

He doesn't, keeps that serpentine tongue tucked within the confines of his jaw, but it's like he can read your mind because his smile curves further, drawing even closer to you as he says, “Curious?”

It's like the rattling of a deadly snake's tail, the way he hisses out the question. It means to warn you of danger ahead, of expert predation, of total and utter annihilation should you let him take a bite.

You drag your eyes back up to his smoky ones, half expecting to find slitted pupils that speak of poison. There isn't, just a mirthful quirk to his brow, and a solitary nod is all you can offer him in return.

“‘S alright.” He tips his chin in encouragement. “Go on, then. Ask.”

Another glance to his lips as you rummage through the dense brush that entangles your brain. Plucking one of the first you find, you ask, “Does it hurt?” eyes moving back to his.

That earns a little chuckle from Simon, an even smaller shake of the head. “Not now that it's healed,” he tells you truthfully, cheek dimpled in amusement. A beat passes, him waiting for another of your questions, and when you don't conjure one up, he jokes, “That it?” Clearly, he expected a barrage.

You take a second, searching for another, then simply, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why'd you do it?”

Simon raises his shoulder in a shrug. “Dunno. Wanted to do somethin’ fun; different I s’pose,” his reasoning is as carefree as his voice sounds. He leans back in his seat, crossing his arms over his chest. “Plus, ‘s more useful than you think,” he tacks on at the end, something mischievous glinting in his eye. Deception maybe. Bait definitely.

Useful, he says? You doubt it. Having a second tongue sounds like a burden honestly. You'd have to learn how to talk, eat, and drink all over again, just like when you were a small child. But if he said so, and with such confidence, then it begs the question: “How?”

How is having a second tongue useful?

Throughout your entire conversation, Simon's maintained steady eye contact with you, his focus never faltering from yours. But now, as your brow creases in confusion, Simon breaks away, lids lowering as he gazes down at the floor. He rolls a thought around his head for a moment, that cheeky look still etched into his face. When he huffs an amused breath through his nose, it only deepens his smirk that much more, and then slowly, painfully unrushed, his eyes rake up, up, up your body, until settling on yours once again.

The look he gives you now is dark, a grin like the devil’s as he peers up at you. The tip of his forked tongue pokes out as it makes another swipe across his bottom lip.

No thoughts, except for Punk!Simon who takes you back to his place and shows you just how useful two tongues can be.

#split tongue simon riley my beloved 🖤 #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #ghost cod #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #cod mw2 #call of duty #modern warfare 2

[imfinereallyy]

I wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) pt. 4

part 1 part 2 pt. 3

this one i am excited for, i hope you guys like it...

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

February 1991, Chicago

Robin has a particular hatred for winter rain. It’s cold, damp and makes everything grey. She doesn't mind the rain in the summer—where it makes everything smell fresh and makes all the greens look bright.

Winter rain, though? Belongs in a circle of hell.

Admittedly, it's more than the way the downpour chills her to the bone. It's always a bad omen, a sign of what's to come. Most people find her paranoid, except Steve. He always nods his head in understanding; Robin can't tell if it's because he just understands her or because the winter rain makes his bones ache.

Robin shakes the water out of her hair as she walks up the steps to her apartment with Steve and Eddie. The bad feeling in her stomach doesn't ease up, creeping further and further up her throat until she worries she might choke on it. She takes her time going up the six flights of stairs, taking deep breaths, convincing herself that everything is fine and it's all in her head.

By the time she makes it to the door, Robin feels lighter.

Pushing through the doorway, Robin lets a small smile rest on her lips as her eyes look around to see who's home.

Her eyes land on Steve, head in his hands, shoulders shaking.

It's then she notices Steve is home, but Eddie isn't.

Steve lifts his head, tears in his eyes. "He's gone, Robs. Eddie left."

The rain could eat shit. Fuck.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

June 1996, Chicago

Robin waits until Steve leaves and a few minutes extra before making her way into the living room.

She knows the bastard is still here; Robin saw it coming from a mile away.

Trudging towards the couch in Steve's boxers and what she is sure is her ex-girlfriend's t-shirt, Robin smacks Eddie upside the head.

Hard.

"Ow! What the fuck, Buckley?" Eddie squirms, rubbing his head with a pout.

"Oh, shut it, Munson. You know that a slap is the least of your worries. You better believe something on you will be broken by the time you leave again." Robin huffs, her face going red.

Eddie sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Will you at least come talk to me before you cause me more bodily harm?" He pats the spot on the couch next to him like it isn't Robin's fucking couch.

Robin begrudgingly decides he's right and plops down next to him with a glare. "Trust me, Munson. We will be doing plenty of talking. And by we, I mean me."

"Don't you want to hear my sid—Ow! Birdie, for the love of god, stop hitting me." Eddie rubs his arm.

"No."

"No you won't hear me out, or no you won't stop hitting me?"

Robin levels him with a look so vicious that she is almost certain if he holds eye contact any longer, he will be set on fire.

Eddie's shoulder's slump, "Right."

Robin huffs through her nose, trying to fight back a smile. She will not crack around this idiot, even if torturing him brings her a special kind of joy. "Munson, unless the reason was 'if you didn't leave, Steve was going to die,' then you don't have a good reason."

A small smile makes its way onto Eddie's face, and Robin lightly slaps his knee. "Why are you smiling? You don't get to smile right now."

Eddie deosn't even flinch, "Nothing, it's just you specified Steve dying, and not the two of you or anyone else. Like Steve dying would be the issue. It's nice to see some things never change."

"You see that's where you're wrong, Munson." Robin gets really close in his face, "We've only gotten worse."

Eddie's smile is a full-blown grin now. Robin can't help but be a little charmed.

If Robin is honest with herself, and Steve encourages her to do so more often, she really misses Eddie. Despite her being angry at him, she's happy to have him here to be angry at. But once she's over that, she will be kicking him the fuck out of their apartment.

Something twisted lands in Robin's stomach as she makes her way back into her spot on the couch. Eddie doesn't get it that he left them. He left not just Steve but Robin, too. They were best friends, and suddenly, he's gone.

And on top of that, Robin had to watch Steve crumble, and it just isn't something she thinks she can ever get over.

For years, Robin watched Steve pick himself up over and over again. Resilient, brave, and sometimes a little stupid. That's her Steve. But after Eddie left, she was worried that this time he wouldn't get back up.

She can't go through that again.

Unfortunately though, Robin fears she might need Eddie's fucking help with something.

These boys will be the death of her.

"No more smiling, Munson. This is serious." Robin clears her throat.

"Right." His grin slips off his face. "You were saying you wanted to do the talking?"

Robin looks to the doorway, nervous. As if Steve is going to walk through any moment, despite not leaving all that long ago. She just knows how dates with Drew go. Sometimes Steve will come home early, frustrated and quiet, closed off in ways she hasn't seen in a long time. Other times he won't come home for days, Drew deciding he needed some alone time with Steve.

Robin isn't sure which she hates more.

She shakes her head, knowing she is being unreasonable—not on the hating Drew part (which is really what it is, down to its core) but on Steve coming back early. No matter what happens between Steve and Drew, Robin knows he is dreading coming back to this apartment with Eddie in it or, even worse, with Eddie gone.

"You're going to help me."

Eddie's eyebrows furrow, and Robin almost expects him to question it, to demand answers. Instead, he surprises her. "Okay, what do you need?"

Robin takes a deep breath, "We need to get Steve out of a bad relationship."

Worry falls over Eddie's face, "Is he okay? What happened? Is she hurting him?"

Ah. Robin forgot about that part. Eddie doesn't exactly know about Steve's sexuality. It isn't like the man isn't out—Steve has been out to their friends for years now—but it feels wrong to tell Eddie without consulting Steve yet.

She is going to have to work around it.

"Steve's...fine." Robin doesn't reall know actually. Lately, it's been like pulling teeth trying to get him to talk about Drew. She fucking hates that man. "He's unhappy, though. This person isn't good for him, and I think me saying it isn't enough."

Eddie rubs a hand down his face, "And how am I supposed to help that? Steve doesn't exactly want me around." His arms gesture towards the room in a dramatically flair.

Oh, this silly, silly man, Robin thinks. Unfortunately, he's exactly what Robin needs—more specifically, what Steve needs.

"True."

"Okay, hurtful."

Robin waves him off, "I'm not going to lie to you, Munson. We are both pissed at you. But I am worried about Steve. And I care more about him than I am angry at you. Despite all the shit you did, he cares about you. Because this is Steve. He cares a whole lot and gives a whole bunch without expecting anything. And he deserves better. And I think—no, I know, if he has two of his oldest friends showing him that, maybe he'll listen."

Robin fails to mention that regardless of how this plan goes, she will have her revenge on Eddie, to, ya know, even the score.

Eddie huffs through his nose, "Okay. Of course, I'll help. Besides, I was already planning on sticking around. I don't want to run away, not this time."

"Good." Robin lets a small smile slip onto her face, "Besides, you're a terrible athlete. Don't know why you insist on trying."

A dry laugh escapes Eddie, "Wow, thanks, Bridie. Missed you too."

Robin pushes him playfully. "If you're gonna stick around, maybe I'll hear you out, Eddie. But not now. Not yet. Don't know if this going to be long term; consider this a temporary truce."

Robin expects him to whine and contest it, but instead, Eddie looks delighted. "You called me Eddie."

Robin groans, "Don't ruin it."

Eddie grabs her hand, their rings clanking against each other, and gives it a squeeze. "Sorry, no take backs."

Robin says nothing, but squeezes back.

🐝･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･✦ʚɞ

i don't get to write her pov very often, but it is so fun. next update we will finally get a peak into Eddie's whole deal. Tag list is closed, but you can put notifs on the first part, I always put the link on the there.

tag list! (closed):

@stevesbipanic @withacapitalp @emryyyyy09 @brainfugk @blueberrylemontea-fanfic

@slv-333 @thetinymm @connected-dots-st-reblogger @helpimstuckposting @dreamercec

@goodolefashionedloverboi @stripey82 @little2nerdy @anne-bennett-cosplayer @resident-gay-bitch

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#see? it's getting happier #kinda #trust me it's going happy places #we just gotta build #also thanks for the hype it motivates me #also i know some of you at this point live in my walls #steddie #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #my writing #platonic stobin #ficlet #angst #hurt comfort #i wonder if you look both ways (When you cross my mind) #ao3

[the-froschamethyst4]

Stuck In The Devils Arms

𖤐Pairing: Price x F! Reader

𖤐Pronouns: She/Her

𖤐Warnings: smut, language, drinking, P in V, kissing/making out, age gap, blind dating, eating out, manhandling, praising, ass smacking, teasing, brat taming (?), groping, nipple play, aftercare,

𖤐Summary: When an Angel and Devil accidentally meet how will they handle each other

————

————

"Price is old," Soap says as him and all of Task Force sat in the mess hell.

"That was so fucking random," Gaz says.

"I mean, the man is single, no kids, lives alone, probably has a cat or something...I mean, have you guys ever hear him talk about his love life?"

"Probably for a good reason, Johnny." Ghost says.

"Does he even date?"

"If he did, we will never know," Graves says, sitting next to Soap.

"What are you poor bastards talking about?" Price asked, sitting between Ghost and Alex.

"Soap, is being nosy about your love life," Ghost said.

"My love life?" Price asked, sounding offended.

"Price, you are a single man, when's the last time you went on a date?" Soap asked him.

"I went on a date not too long ago."

"WITH WHO!?" Soap jumps up.

"Jesus, I'm not telling," Price says. "I don't want you finding her and asking her how I am in bed, you'll never know, Soap," Price smirks as everyone at the table laugh.

As Price was eating his attention was caught by a new recruit, she was young late 20's maybe 26-28? Somewhere around there. Price watched as her dark green shirt showing off her breasts and her pants sitting high on her hips.

The Military's pants were men sizes and didn't fit the ladies, so the only way to get them to fit was buckling them around their waists. She picked this trick up by her dormmates.

She carried a tray, her hair slicked back into a high ponytail. She walks pass the Task Force table sitting with a group of girls, she knows.

Price watches her not in a creepy way or anything, but she was cute, beautiful even.

"Price, I'm going to set you up with someone."

"Fuck that, I'll do it on my own."

"No, let me, I know someone," Soap smirks.

"I don't trust you," Price says.

"Yeah, you do, come on, one time, you will like her."

"Man-"

"Come on, Price, it's one time."

"FINE!"

"YES! I'll let her know, you said yes."

"Why the hell did I just get myself into?" Price asked, putting his hands on his face, dragging his fingers down his cheeks.

----------

That Night (8:00PM)

Price was wearing some dark blue jeans, a black t-shirt with a black and white flannel, this was a casual date, hell, they are meeting at a bar, nothing special.

He has a drink in his hands and was looking at the TV behind the bar watching the football game going on. The bar door opens and the person was greeted by the bartender.

Price turns his head and sees a girl, she had asked for a screwdriver and waited, she looked like she was looking for someone. Price didn't want to bother her just in case it was the wrong girl.

"Are you John Price?" She asked, he turns and looks at her, she was cute, a cute sun dress and her hair curled with light makeup.

"Yeah, I am...are you?"

"Y/n...I'm Soap's friend." She moved a bit closer to John and she put her hand out, he shook her hand.

"Nice to meet you," he says.

"Same."

"How you know, Soap?" Price asked her.

"Our parents know each other," she says with a smile. "He told me a lot about you," she was sweet, Price can tell. She was calm and her voice was like velvet, smooth and soft.

He wanted to hear her talk, he would listen to her forever!

"So, are you and Soap friends?" She asked.

"Kind of."

"What's kind of?"

"I mean, we talk and hang out...so I guess we are," he says. She just gives him a smile. His heart skipped a beat. Price hasn't felt like this about anyone in a long time, his first love cheated on him, and all he's been doing is sleeping around every now and then.

"How come you agreed to meet me, without knowing me first?" she asked. "Was it to get him off your back?" She giggles.

"A bit yeah."

"Yeah, Soap can be a bit much, he's done it to me a couple times," she says.

The night consist of them talking, they forgot about their drinks, and mainly started talking more then worried about their drinks. Y/n had gone to the bathroom and she trusted him with her drink alone.

Price kept the cup in his view and death stared anyone who dared get close to her drink. She came back, her hand touched his shoulders, letting him know she was back and not to freak out.

She sits back down and fixes her dress. "Thanks for watching my drink."

"Of course."

Price and Y/n talked and then he asked her. "Do you wanna...go back to my place?"

"If it's okay with you?" She asked, her fingers circled the rim of her glass.

"Of course, it is, come on," he gives the bartender his card paying for both his and Y/n's drinks.

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

Price opens his front door letting Y/n go in first. She takes off her flats and Price takes off his shoes and flannel.

"You want anything to eat?"

"Oh no, it's okay, you don't need to cook anything," she says.

"It's okay, come on, what do you want?" He asked, leaning over his marble counter as Y/n sat at the stool.

"Umm~ spaghetti?"

"Anything for the pretty girl," he smirks, giving Y/n butterflies.

Price was getting everything ready and Y/n walks to him and she washes her hand and helps Price.

"Can I help?"

"Sure," he smirks. He watches her pour the sauce into a pot and putting some water in the glass bottle shaking it to get the last bit of it and pouring it into the pot again.

He watches her, she was gentle, he stir the pot of tomatoes sauce. He grabs a knife and cutting board and starts chopping up mushrooms, green peppers, onions, and a few other things.

Y/n sat at the counter watching him with a glass of red wine between her hands. She watched at how skillful he was with a knife, she rests her chin on her palm as she was amazed by him and started to make small talk.

"So how long have you been in the Military?" She asked him.

"Since my twenties," he says with a smile.

"Wow...do you think you'll ever retire? Settle down with a family maybe?"

"Are you asking me, to start a family with you, miss Y/n?" Her face was red and she stood up straight.

"Eh-no...that's n-not what I-I meant, I was just wondering if you'll ever retire?"

"I don't have a plan to do so," he tells her.

"I understand...so when you're on your last leg," she cracks a joke on him.

"Wow! I will not. When I get married, and I have kids, then I'll retire till then I'm single, currently on a date with my Sergeants friend, who keeps...staring at me with her beautiful eyes," he says.

"John Price," she turns her head to avoid eye contact.

"They're pretty," he says.

She just shakes her head to try and hide her embarrassment. "You're just saying that," she says.

"I mean, I'm not wrong...Soap didn't say anything about those eyes of yours," Price says, leaning on the counter.

"I think my eyes are just fine," she giggles at him.

"...Can I kiss you?" He asked, bluntly.

"Price!” She was shocked.

“We don’t have to,” he says.

“No, it’s okay…” she gets off the stool and comes around the counter.

Her hand glides over the countertop and she looks up at him, her hand resting on his stomach before standing on her tippy toes to kiss him.

The kiss was soft and gentle, Price pulls away first and then picks up Y/n placing her on the counter, he stood between her legs cupping her face and giving her another kiss.

Her hands rested on his chest as they both hear the water sizzling on the stove top. Price turns and lowers the heat on the stove.

"Should we eat first?" He asked.

"If the old man needs his food first to have enough stamina," she teased him.

"I not that old, I'm 40 years old," he says with a pout.

"Nothing to be ashamed of," she says, cupping his face and getting another kiss from him.

"Fuck it," he pulls the noodles off the stove along with the sauce and picked Y/n back up and took her to the bedroom, she giggles knowing she struck a nerve.

"What are you giggling at?" He asks her.

"Just how you got so mad over a simple comment," she says, Price can feel the smirk from her.

"Oh yeah," he smacks her ass earning a soft squeal from her and her legs bending up. He chuckles at her. "How cute, you got such a bratty attitude but when I manhandle you that all goes away."

"Oh no, sir, this is only a treat," she says, her hands on his back sitting up but then she flopped on the soft mattress.

She giggles when she bounces up a couple times, and Price watched as she was now on her back, elbows propping herself up, and her right knee bending exposing a bit of her panties.

He smirks, crawling up her and kissing her lips. She smiles and kisses his lips. His hands went up her body, holding her waist before his left hand unzipped her dress, she pulls the straps off her shoulders and Price pulls it down off her body.

She giggles when Price starts kissing her ankle and kissing all the way back up to her exposed chest. His mouth attached to her right nipple and his fingers played with her other.

She let's out a soft moan, her hands going into his hair and her back arches against his body. Price sits up and removes his shirt and starts messing with his belt.

Just undoing the belt before going back to kiss her lips. Price's rough, calloused hands held her waist before he starts moving them downward pulling her panties off and then he grabs her thighs and moves them over his shoulders.

It's been a while since someone has done anything like this to Y/n. Soap had known about Y/n never really wanting a relationship but didn't mind a hook-up every now and then, but this...what her and Price are doing is something she could live with.

Price licks his lips before gently kissing her wet folds. His tongue licked between her folds and then soon his tongue was pushing inside of her. She squeezed her thighs together as she felt good from what Price was doing to her.

She looks at Price and made eye contact with the older man. He smirks before sucking on her clit and shaking his tongue back and forth earning a breathy moan from her lips.

Price likes hearing her moans, he soon tasted some pre-cum coming from her lower half, he smirks before removing his tongue which earned him a annoyed groan from Y/n, he taps the side of her butt.

"Flip," he demands, he removes his pants as he stares at Y/n's ass as she flips over. He smirks before bending down and biting at her ass, she looks over her shoulder mouth opened letting out a soft and satisfied moan.

he moves a pillow under her lower half as he positions himself at her entrance and pushing inside of her. She puts her head back, her head hit against his broad shoulder. She looks in his eyes and lets out a few satisfied moans.

He was thrusting fast, he wasn't sloppy, kind of professional in a way, like he knew what he was doing. Y/n felt him hit against her spot a few times.

"You're doing so well," he praises. "You look so cute with your eyes really in the back of your head," he says.

"P-Price-" she was cut off by his lips on hers and she moans into the kiss.

"Those pretty eyes...rolling back...looking at me...they are so fucking intoxicating," he says with a smirk on his face before kissing her neck, he thrusts became harder, rougher even, the loud smacking of skin against each other filled the room.

His tip was throbbing wanting to cum inside of her, she squeezes around him when the feeling of wanting to cum filled her body, Price and her both moaned before they ended up coming together.

Price keeps going, he doesn't want this night to end just yet. he was going to keep going to prove that he isn't just some 'old man'. He smirks when seeing Y/n's face buried into the pillow, her moans muffled and her legs shaking.

price smirks knowing that her little comment is eating her. His hands rested on her waist guiding her to keep going faster, cause he wasn't done just yet.

As he was moving faster, Y/n's lovely moans being muffled and her eyes carrying some hot tears, not of pain but of pleasure. She loves this feeling probably more than Price.

"One more, love. I know you can cum one more fucking time," he demands.

He was sloppy with his thrusts again, and the sound of skin clapping, and sounds of something wet and sticky filled the room. She did what he asked her to do and that was to cum once more and she did.

Price smirks and pulls out of her, cum rushes from her lower half.

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

Price was plating up the food, yes, he reheated it up. Y/n came downstairs in some shorts and a t-shirt that belonged to price.

"John, the shorts," she lets go of the shorts and they immediately drop to her ankles. "They don't fit," she says as Price laughs.

"Okay, you don't have to wear them," she steps out of them and temporarily places them on the back of his couch. She sits at the table as price gave her the plate and then goes back to get her a glass of water.

Y/n and Price ate and talked and by the end of it, she was being carried back upstairs to the bedroom to join Price. He places her on the side facing the closet door and he laid near the door.

"You get some rest okay?"

"Okay...good night."

"Night," he cups her face before holding her close to his chest.

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

"Kids are confirmed," Soap says as he sits next to Price at the mess hall.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Price says.

"Y/n told me what you two did-"

"Is she pregnant?"

"Price, that's not how it works, it'll take time before that happens, and not only that, Y/n's on birth control, she wouldn't stop taking it for a stranger."

"She would for me," Price says, raising his eyebrows and sipping from his tea.

#cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #fandom #fanfic #call of duty #mw2 #cod #price x y/n #price x you #captain john price #price x reader #cod price #john price #captain price #price

[heartgazing]

The Desire for Freedom

Chapter 1 || OPLA!Zoro x GN!Reader

Warning: slavery, slave auctions, human beings seen as objects by vile people :(

(chapter 2 can be found here).

You felt sick to your stomach.

The shouts of numbers from vile men treating you all as objects.

You were used to it, but it still made you sick. At a young age your father sold you off to the slave market for a few berries. Selfish bastard.

Now here you we’re waiting to be sold off at this auction held. This was about your tenth auction. The slave owners never bothered to keep you around, you were malnourished and a bit weak. You dragged your feet and always looked down. You couldn’t do much you had no energy.

All you dreamt about was being free and traveling the world. Maybe get back at your father but it wasn’t your main priority. You hated these useless dreams; they gave you hope and disappointment as days pass on.

You stood there looking down to the chains wrapped around your wrists and sighed. You rested your head on the wall behind you, eyes closed.

At that moment you opened them, you caught sight of green. There walked a man with mesmerizing green hair, he looked strong, he had three swords at his side. You wish you were strong maybe if you were you’d escape by now.

As if the man felt an unnerving stare his eyes met yours. Your eyes widen. He stared at you then walked away. At least you got to see his eyes you thought they were beautiful so full of life, of freedom.

Shaking your head to get the man out of your thoughts. The announcer stated a few more slaves would be auctioned then they would take a break and comeback. A guard was going along the line and stopped at the woman in front of you the other guard lead you and the others behind you back to the cages.

You got back to your cage all alone. Your cage-mates were the ones chosen to be the few sold before break. Finally stilling you sighed looking out the caged window. Closing your eyes to rest.

The man with green hair clenched his jaw and groaned. Hands clenched at the hilt of his swords, he took a turn and walked back to the auction from the behind the stage where the cages were.

Your eyes open upon hearing a grunt of pain, footsteps, and keys jingling.

The man with green hair began unlocking all the cages and reached yours. He made eye contact as he unlocked yours. Tears in your eyes as you look at his action. Your chest tightened as he threw the keys on the floor and walked away.

No one made a move. They all stayed in their cage.

You hesitated, then you made opened the cage the loud metallic creak brought all eyes on you, and quickly running after the green haired man. Opening and closing your mouth trying to speak but nothing came out. Reaching out you gripped the back of his shirt causing him to stop.

"Please help me escape from this island" You begged, lips trembling. The man simply began walking slower, no words stated but you understood. Following him wordlessly. He suddenly stopped causing you to look up, seeing him scratch the back of his neck, mumbling under his breath.

“Lost?” You whispered. For the first time since the cage the man finally turns to look at you.

“The docks should be here I turned, they should be right here” The green haired man groaned out.

“STOP RIGHT THERE SLAVE” the guards neared in an aggressive stance.

That word. It hits you that maybe that is all you are. You will never be free.

A hand settles on your head.

“Stay out of my way alright” you hear your savior say.

He beginnings unsheathing his two swords. The man ran and began slicing and fighting the numerous guards.

You see a guard behind him about to attack. You quickly grabbed a wooden chair and wacked him across his head.

“Ah hehehe” You whisper nervously as the guard stared at you viciously. Slaves were never ever allowed to fight back. You had to obey and take the punishment no matter what.

The green haired man shoves you with a grin “I told you to stay outta my way!”. He finishes off the rest of the guards and chuckles in amusement.

“My name is Zoro”

“Thank you…Zoro”

“And…”

“Oh! I don’t have a name”

“Mm, alright”

A/n: Hope this is okay! I’m way new to writing and the op fandom I’m just writing things I can get out of my head. I want to make this one a series, if you guys would like to please let me know :)

Update: It's a series now! go see chapter 2!

#roronoa zoro x reader #opla zoro x reader #opla x reader #zoro x reader #one piece live action #one piece #roronoa zoro #opla zoro #zoro roronoa x reader #zoro #one piece zoro #opla

[popponn]

a bit and more. [isagi yoichi x reader]

notes: i love green flag sweetheart isagi but his red flag bastard side also has its own charm. this guy got a good brain, is tenacious when he wants something, is good at hiding it but is a genuine asshole sometimes. i can go on, hence this fit of madness. warning: possessiveness, jealousy, sfw, reader's gender unspecified. isagi is a good boyfriend who is trying, but we all got intrusive thoughts.

the thing about isagi's possessiveness is no matter how smart he is in hiding, or expressing it in some matters, it really is a nasty thing in its rawest form.

and it goes hand in hand with many things. his jealousy, his selfishness, and his affection to you—

isagi is fully aware he has a certain part in there that is quite messed up. most of the time, those parts only came out during a heated match, even more so when his opponents tried to bait him out. for a long long time, as long as he could remember, isagi never brought out those parts of him outside of that. it's a part away from his family, his daily life, and every part of his that doesn't demand the egoism that had long planted its seed inside of him and bloomed.

yet, recently, there are moments where it slips into the life he shares with you.

the first time began small enough. not quite odd and almost like a dull, steady ache that isagi knows is still appropriate. it was merely a stranger who got too friendly, just a bit too close to you for his liking. isagi reacted to that spark without much fuss. he slid to his rightful place beside you, placing a hand around your shoulder, and pressed his forehead as if he was greeting you, all while silently watching the nobody with a piercing side-eye. then, the stranger was gone and it was the laughs that he shared with you that were important.

you are many of isagi's firsts—especially in the part of his life that isn't dominated by a grueling desire to win, win, and win—including in relationships. isagi dares to say you are the very first person he imagines sharing many things with in this kind of thing, both happy and not. so, when you choose to laugh and put your whole attention on him, isagi thrives and follows suit.

at that time, your relationship was still young and isagi was unfamiliar with that emotion. so, he put it in the back of his mind for later.

then, it pilled up and up and up.

it was you who laughed with bachira during a break.

isagi stood and stared from the other side of the field. it was a normal exchange, the rational part of his brain reasoned. but your eyes were supposed to be on him, the more unpleasant part said in return. so, in a curious manner that wouldn't raise anyone's suspicion, isagi walked towards the two of you and asked, "what are you talking about?"

it was you who accidentally wore the clothes chigiri somehow misplaced in his closet.

"eh, it wasn't yours? i thought you bought a new one..." you blinked, confused and guileless. you didn't make a move from your seat, clearly still taking comfort in your pile of blankets and chigiri's oversized t-shirt. isagi never really understood fashion, but he supposes if an oversized t-shirt is what makes you comfortable he will buy as much as you want later. "nope," isagi answered, pushing any other thoughts to mull over later. "that's chigiri's, i think? wait, let me ask him for a sec." and if isagi did everything in his power to get you out of that t-shirt as soon as possible, he made sure it all looked natural.

then, at some point, it is you, who is waiting for him at home after a long trip away.

it truly does feel ugly, isagi admits. even though he spends the time you two spent apart by listening closely to your story through the video call and replying to your chortle with his own soft smile—as genuine and as loving as it has always been for you—isagi couldn't exactly kick the unfamiliar nasty, gnawing feeling completely away the moment he meets you again. suddenly, with the urgency of matches and momentary soft comforts those calls provide away from the situation, all that is in his mind and feeling becomes a messy chain of questions and demands.

were you doing well while he was gone? did you think of him? how much did you think of him? did you wear and hug his shirts to sleep? did it bother you that he was away for so long? were there anyone—

"did you miss me?" isagi asks you, with lips pressing against your nape. his hands inches away from slipping under your shirt as he cages you from behind. he likes this feeling. it feels like you give him permission to have you, completely trusting him in a manner impossible to reach through efforts alone. isagi knows his ways with luck, but for once he truly feels like a lucky man with the way your body heated up under his touch. isagi likes it. the two of you on the bed, you dressed in his shirt, your body pressing against his, and the marks that start to redden around your neck. lovingly, isagi pressed a kiss to your shoulder. he enjoys the way your breath starts to heave and notes to himself to decorate your shoulder later. when you finally answer, isagi is far from surprised, yet still revels in it like a victor. "of course i do," you say, craning your head towards him with a pair of hazy eyes. when he sees it, isagi realizes the way his heart thumped loudly. he likes it when you look at him like that. it would be nice to have this often. he will work on it later. but for now— "good. i miss you too." —pushing you to the bed, away from anything that isn't him sounds like a good start.

#bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock #bllk x reader #bluelock x reader #blue lock x reader #blue lock scenarios #bllk isagi #isagi x reader #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #bllk scenarios #blue lock isagi #drabble #drabbles #im trying so hard not to make isagi essay in the notes do you get me #the only thought here is yoichi and i wanna write. during a block. but it's itchy. #i hope i wont regret this. the one in draft is way more more

[courtingchaos]

Blackberry + Smash

Pairing: Thirty something line cook!Eddie Munson x Fem!reader

Summary: You and the line cook from next door have been flirting for too long.

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: This started as something else, and ended up being a thing I put together for @newlips milestone of love! It's only in two parts because I'm incapable of writing anything within reason! Also I didn’t mention more than once I think, but Eddie and reader are 32 because I’m tired of pretending to be 20 again 🙃 (18+ NSFW etc. etc.)

“Eddie’s here!” One of the girls titters over the headset and you roll your eyes when you hear the chorus line out front. 

“Hi Eddie!” All singsong and sweet at him; he answers like Charlie to his Angels. 

“Hi baristas!”

It’s become rote at this point, his near daily appearance at 2pm, big smile plastered on his face when the bell rings overhead. He’s dressed for work, black t-shirt with ‘Stacy’s Tap House’ in large white letters across his back, black jeans and…crocs?

“Crocs dude?” You’ve moseyed out to the front register to greet him and notice his lack of steel toes. 

“What? You don’t like ‘em?” He lifts one leg up behind himself like a princess and dips his head into his shoulder to bat his lashes at you. “You wear them.”

“I don’t work with hot oil.” 

“Eh, I broke my laces and I’m lazy. Haven’t gone to the store yet.” He waves a hand at you while you type in his drink. It’s a truly atrocious thing with 14 pumps of syrup and 6 long shots and heavy cream. You give him shit every single time. You sneer playfully at him when he taps his phone against the reader. He follows you all the way down the line, mirroring your wrinkled nose. 

“What are you up to today?” You’re queuing up shots and pumping syrups and you catch him eyeing you over the glass. He crosses his arms over the top of the partition to lean forward and if he wasn’t Eddie, you’d ‘accidentally’ splash him with the rinser. 

“Oh you know, making some sandwiches, taking out some trash, selling hardcore drugs in the walk-in. Typical Wednesday.” He shrugs, bobs his head and keeps his eyes on you. You can feel it even while you have your head down, wiping the counter in front of you. You let out a little laugh and that seems to satisfy him. Looks back over his shoulder to the parking lot out front for a few seconds. You take the opportunity to stare at the long column of his neck, bared to you where his hair is pulled back into a bun. The tendon straining from the angle of his head. You could make real quick work of that pale skin, litter it with red and purple. 

“Is Jeff working today?”

“He’s in later, why?”

“Wanna bring him his americano?”

“Eh, sure.” He starts to turn back towards the register and you flap your free hand at him. 

“I got it, don’t worry.”

“You keep giving me free shit, they’re not gonna keep you around much longer.” There’s that smile again, the dimples that keep you up at night. What a bastard. 

“You think after 8 years they’re just gonna fire me? I’ll burn this store down first.” Smirking you hand him both drinks and throw two straws at him. His big hand slaps at his chest and he gasps, looking behind you to grab the other baristas attention. 

“Caitlyn did you see that? Is Andrew here? I need to speak to a manager!” 

Caitlyn just giggles at him, like you all do, and throws another handful at him. He snatches them all up off the counter top and the few that hit the floor to clutch in his fist. 

“These are mine now!” He’s backing up toward the door and nodding at the line who are all pretending to wave hankies at him. 

“Hey, Eddie? You make me sick, don’t come back in here tonight.” The smile is clear in your voice even if you are squinting meanly at him. He pauses for a second to wiggle his eyebrows at you. “I love it when you talk dirty to me.” His laugh follows him outside and you watch him jog to his green pickup. 

“Every time he comes in here he stares at you.” Caitlyn is still there hovering at your shoulder, watching you watch Eddie, and you can hear her smirking behind you. 

“Oh you don’t say?”

Hey chickadee. 

What’s up buttercup?

You’re closing, right?

Of course, what the fuck else do I do around here?

G a w d d a m n

What?????

Don’t gotta jump up my ass about it I was just trying to be a ~gentleman~ and see if you wanna hang later. 

Oh! Sure, I’ll check with Cate. 

 Jeff will have a shit fit. 

The restaurant closes at 10, your cafe at 9, so it gives you and Cate roughly an hour to race back to your apartment and change. You refuse to go out smelling like coffee and milk, even if Eddie tells you he likes the smell that lingers on your pullover. Weirdo. 

You’ve been digging around for ten minutes looking for your good pair of jeans, only to find them in the hamper. Still dirty from the weekend before where you’d gotten a little too rowdy and dropped a drink down the front of you. 

Plan B it is. Dress, tights, jacket. All black of course, why would you buy anything else? 

“Nah nah nah, I’m not third wheeling am I?” Cate asks when you walk into the living room twisting on your rings. 

“What? No. My jeans are dirty and this is like, the only other non work thing I have clean.” You’re a little defensive, sure. She didn’t need to point out the obvious so clearly now did she? Cate’s eyebrow starts to raise and your hand comes up, a loud ‘acht!’ falling out of your mouth. 

“It’s not a date! It’s just drinks. Like normal.” This isn’t new, you two going out with the kitchen staff at Stacey’s. It’s always been a little quid pro quo between the businesses and everyone is familiar with each other. They get free drinks more often than not, and you guys get free food (and also everyone gets to ogle Eddie). 

“I don’t know why you haven’t just asked him out yet.” Cate’s not wrong. However, “I’m having fun with it. Also maybe I’m waiting on him to ask me.” You shrug at her. 

The bar you all frequent is just down the street from the restaurant, small and a little loud it’s the best spot mainly because all the cooks know all the bartenders. 

Shots go down easier when they’re free. 

You’re off tomorrow, and Cate drove, but you’re still trying to keep it easy tonight. Didn’t need a repeat of last weekends adventure. 

This isn’t a date, like it always isn’t a date, but everyone knows. You two have been flirting for a few months now and it isn’t like you don’t know if he’s into you or not. You just like the chase on 

this one. He’s witty, funny, a complete asshole on occasion, and incredibly disgustingly hot. You’d told him about as much one night, everyone drunk in the parking lot trying to order an Uber home and he’d just flashed that toothy grin at you like he knew. 

“Has anyone told you how stupidly handsome you are?”

“Stupidly? No.”

“Well you are. Stupidly, for sure, but also handsome.”

“Hey.” He taps your shoulder with your drink, his insistence that he buy. 

“Hey yourself.” You grab the glass and smile up at him. Even after a full shift of sweating over grills he’s pretty, hair pulled down from his bun, loose curls around his shoulders. 

“How was work?”

“Other than the customers, it was fine.” You flash a fake smile and take a sip out of the tiny straw. Jameson and ginger ale. He remembered. A drink order shouldn’t make your heart beat faster but it does. Is the bar so low that you’d give it up for the simple act of remembering your drink?

When Eddie drops down into the seat beside you, his hand falls to your knee and gives it squeeze before taking it away to check his phone. 

No, the bar isn’t low, not for Eddie. But the drink is one of many things that makes you want to take him out to his truck and end this dance you two have been waltzing. 

All the times he’s obviously thinking of you you. Dropping off food and boba and cookies from that really nice bakery on his block. All the memes he sends you on his smoke breaks. The nicknames. It’s just been building really, ready to burst like an especially ripe blackberry. 

Oh it’ll be sweet. 

“What are you up to next weekend?”

“Well, I don’t know about Cate, but-“

“I didn’t ask about Cate.” He looks up from his phone, lays it face down on the sticky table top. Out of the corner of your eye you can tell Cate heard her name. As soon as she looks over at you two she’s facing back to Jeff to share a look with him. 

“O-kay. I was going to say I’m off actually. I have a wedding to go to on Sunday. Why?” 

“Is it in town?”

“Yeah, but I’m gonna be busy like, getting ready for it. I have to get my nails done on Friday. Why?” You lean towards him and push his own drink with your index finger. Anything to push a button. He watches you tease him, eyes dark in the dim lighting, and he reaches over again to tap his middle finger on your crossed knee. He delights in the way your eyes immediately snap to his hand to watch it. 

“Wanna grab lunch on Friday?”

“Aren’t you working?”

“Nope. Rare day off.”

Still watching his finger tap tap tapping away you realize you’re finally getting your wish. 

“Are you asking me out?” A bomb could go off next to you two you’re sure neither would flinch. His eyes on your eyes on his hand. He stops moving, clears his throat to get you to look at him. 

“And what if I am? You aren’t tired of making eyes at me in your lobby every day?” He breaks the tension and makes you laugh. 

“Oh me making eyes? Munson you’re a hypocrite and a liar!” You bicker at him while he scoots his chair close, leaned fully into your space to make big cow eyes at you. Calls you out on your bullshit some more. Gets you a few more drinks and before you know it the bartender is last calling all of you pointedly. 

Outside is cold but you’re buttered up with enough whiskey and Eddie’s giggles to keep your cheeks flush and warm. Everyone is milling around their cars and you’re just trailing along behind Eddie. You follow him to his truck, not intending on getting in. You’re still going home to your own apartment, your own empty bed, as sad as that makes you. 

That blackberry isn’t ready for picking yet, it would seem. 

“So Friday?”

“My appointment is at 11. We can meet after?”

“I can pick you up.” Hopping up into his driver seat he says that over his shoulder while he leans into the cab to shuffle through his glove box. 

“You don’t have to.” You swat his knee, a little admonishment. It might be a first date, but this isn’t either of your first go arounds. He doesn’t need to be chivalrous here. He sits up with a cigarette in the corner of his mouth. 

“Will you just let me pick you up? Jesus.” Huffs around it while he tries to light it. You take the lighter from him and strike it only to hold it just out of reach. He leans forward and you pull your hand back a little, a smirk and a giggle on your lips. A pause and he grabs your fist and pulls it back towards himself, sucks in until the cherry lights and you can see it reflected in his shining eyes. 

Maybe you will climb into the truck, blackberries are your favorite no matter what season. 

Eddie sees you sway forward and as much as he wants to let you lean in between his knees you’re just south of tipsy. He doesn’t want either of you to regret anything. Instead he holds out his palm, gesturing for his lighter. You drop it, still leaning forward and a new glint in your eye. He takes a deep breath and swings his legs inside and grabs his door to close it. Doesn’t miss the look of hurt on your face. 

“Friday.” He says with a smile. 

“Friday.” You back up enough for him to close his door, spinning on your heel to make towards Cate’s car but you stop and spin back. He rolls his window down, eyebrows raised. 

“Can I ask you something?” You lean heavy on the doorframe. He takes a drag and nods at you. 

“Do you actually sell drugs in the walk in?” 

He actually full on laughs, wasn’t expecting that question. 

“Sometimes, yeah.” His wrist is loose on the top of his steering wheel, sodium lights glinting off his ring. Absentmindedly ashes his cigarette on the dash. 

“Oh.”

“Is that okay?”

“Eddie, this is Indiana. You aren’t the first drug dealer I’ve ever met.”

“Yeah, but am I the first one you’ve had a crush on?” Smugness oozes out the window and you reel back, slap your hand against your chest in mock shock. 

“I’m sorry, I have a crush?! Have you met you?” 

“Oh I’m well aware of how I feel. Are you?” God, he’s feeling confident tonight. It’s only been months in the making. 

That itty bitty taunt brings you back in, hands still gripping his door. He watches your tongue poke out and swipe against your bottom lip, the little gem in your medusa piercing catches the light. 

Oh fuck it. 

He meets you halfway, soft lips warm against his own. You taste like whiskey and sugar and that last lime slice you ate while he paid the bill. He feels your hands snake up around his collar to hold, pulling him closer and it takes every single ounce of his willpower to not pull you in through the window. 

Off in the distance he vaguely hears Cate and Jeff and the rest of the bastards you’ve all been out with whistling and slapping car roofs. 

Both of you smiling breaks the kiss but your still in his face and hanging on to his jacket. 

“They’re so loud.” You whisper and he wants to chase it back into you. 

“I’ll kill Jeff later.”

“Oh don’t do that, he has such an easy drink to make.” There’s that laugh, the one that almost twinkles. Eddie wants to kick himself, he’s so far gone. Your fingers loosen, letting him lean back into the cab. He’s thankful for his long hair where it hides his growing blush along his neck. Finally you walk backwards a few steps, definitely heading toward your ride home now. 

“Friday. 10 o’clock?” Cements his plans. Nothing short of a black hole could tear these out of his hands. 

You nod about 20 times and watch him back up and then out of the parking lot, the cheer of everyone following his tail lights.

You nod about 20 times and watch him back up and then out of the parking lot, the cheer of everyone following his tail lights.

(Sacrifice for the read more)

#newlipsmilestoneoflove #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson fluff #Eddie Munson #Eddie Munson fic #My work #My Fic

[curiositydooropened]

Power's Out

My hand slipped this morning. This is for @sweetsweetjellybean because her power's out and she deserves it.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Reader

Wordcount: 1442

Warnings: making out, Eddie Munson is a cock-block

Navigation • Masterlist

---

Third day of Spring and you were wrapped under a comforter and three quilts. Your feet were shoved into wool socks and tucked under you for warmth. Your poor fingers only escaped the blankets to earn you a sip of water or to turn the page on the steamy novel you’d been reading.

Luckily Snowmageddon provided ample lighting when your windows were open, sun cascading in rays off the snow.

You snuggled in tighter, brow furrowed at the main character bickering with her love interest, when you were startled by a knock at the front door.

You glanced down at the tangle you’d trapped yourself in, and then back up at the door when the wrap of knuckles grew more frantic.

“Alright,” you heaved yourself from the couch. “I’m coming.”

You slouched to the door, wearing the comforter like monk’s robes. Peering through the peephole, you found a set of broad shoulders and a mess of dark hair.

The door opened with a burst of frigid air, and Steve grinned, holding up a to- go box. His legs bounced from the cold, canvas tennis shoes dipped dark wet from the snow. “Pizza delivery.”

You stepped aside to let him in, a familiar grumble matching the flip in your stomach when you saw who had arrived.

The pizza smelled amazing, and most importantly warm.

“Power’s on about two miles from here.” Steve explained, stripping out of his shoes and jacket before carrying your lunch to the kitchen to serve on plates.

“Lucky bastards.” You grumbled, peeling a cheesy slice from the grease- stained box before he had a chance to dirty another plate. He offered you one and you waved it away, taking a large moan-inducing bite.

Steve tucked his head, and you noticed the reddening of his ears as a smile split his features. “That good, huh?”

“So fucking good,” you nodded, mouth full.

His smile was shy, sweet, and he leaned against the counter across from you, ankles crossed. “I’m glad.”

He looked tall like this, in your kitchen, long limbed. His hands dwarfed the pizza slice as he careful dipped his head forward for a bite. You hadn’t remembered him looking so... big the last time he was here.

Well, that’s a lie.

You felt your face warm, tucking into another bite, forcing your eyes away from his hands and the curve of his throat as he swallowed.

The last time he’d been here, you’d had power, though you hadn’t used it. Stumbling in from a St. Paddy’s celebration, with matching top hats and shamrocks painted over your tits on your T-shirt. Steve nearly tripped backing over your couch, and you crawled on top of him to pull a Kelly green sweater over his head. He tasted of whisky and beef, and he moaned into your mouth as his large hands palmed beneath shamrocks and tangled themselves into your hair.

You coughed to clear your throat, too big of a bite taking up space in your cheek like a chipmunk.

“Cups?” Steve gestured at a cupboard near the sink.

You nodded, mopped grease from the corner of your mouth and wiped crumbs on the leg of your pajama pants.

You blinked and glanced down at your attire. You were an adult woman, and why you owned a pair of pajama pants with cows jumping over the moon, you’d never know. But you made a mental note to burn them after this. At least your hoodie qualified your alma mater.

Steve filled two glasses from the sink and offered you one before taking a large gulp from his own.

Without the buzz from the refrigerator, the house was painfully silent. So much so that your ears began to ring as you sipped your water and washed down the rest of your slice.

Steve set his glass on the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. His ankles uncrossed so he could slide a socked foot to yours. “So other than a power outage, how’ve you been?”

“Good, yeah, good.” You stammered, but your face reflected the smile growing on his.

“Good.”

He’d rested closer to you, just a step away, and if you were brave enough, you’d cross the little linoleum tile and curl your hand around his tricep.

You cleared your throat again, smiled. “How about you?”

He grinned at that, uncrossed his arms. They were longer than yours, and he was brave enough to loop gentle fingers around your wrists. “I’ve been really good.” His thumbs brushed circles into your forearms, and he tugged you ever- so-closer.

“That’s good,” you replied, a little breathless.

He hummed, face tilting to just meet yours. His amber eyes begged for permission, and one large hand came to meet your throat. His thumb continued its ministrations on your job. “I’m even better now.”

You hummed in agreement, falling into the warmth of him, sturdy and propped against the counter. The comforter fell from your shoulders, and a shiver wracked through you at the whoosh of cold air it offered.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you all week.” He confessed, thumb and forefinger idling at the earring in your ear lobe.

You leaned into his touch, fingers grasping at the forest green sweater covering a broad chest. “So kiss me then.”

His lips were softer than you remembered, the frantic removal of clothing the weekend before only allowed room for teeth and tongues and moans. Now was less frantic, sweeter, the press of his mouth to yours as one hand tucked around your waist to hold you even closer. God, he was blissfully warm.

When he pulled away, you found yourself not wanting it to end, and you chased his lips until his muffled moan entered your mouth. Then, you were like jelly, pliable under his fingertips.

A sturdy hand tangled into the hair at the base of your neck, and he opened your mouth with his tongue. His other hand pressed you tighter between his thighs, against the bulge in his jeans.

“This okay?” He breathed, but you caught his lips again in your response. You trailed one hand down his chest to meet the tent of his pants.

He moaned louder into your mouth, tugging at your hair to expose your throat to him. He curled over you, pressing sweet, damp kisses to your pulse points, fist balling around the fabric of your hoodie.

Your free hand found his hair.

“We should slow down,” Steve’s voice was strained, rough against your sternum, but he made no move to stop. “Want to take you on a date.”

“You can after.”

You gasped as he adjusted, wedging his thigh between your legs and rolling your hips against the rough denim. You murmured his name and coaxed his mouth back to yours.

Warm hands found bare skin beneath your sweatshirt. They fanned the expanse of your back and rib cage, held you tight, safe.

He kissed you slow and sweet, like he had, releasing your lower lip with a pop to stare down at you. He was smiling, pupils blown. His hair stuck up at odd angles.

“I’m serious.” He said, and the tenderness of his gaze made you squirm. You fought to wipe the grin off your own cheeks.

“Me too.”

Then came the pounding at the front door.

Steve released you, both of you clutching at the countertop in surprise.

You held one finger in apology, frowned, and crossed the living room for the front door.

When you leaned forward to look out the peep hole, the pounding started again, followed by a familiar voice. “It’s fucking cold out here, will you just let me in?!”

You glanced back at Steve, who waited patiently by the kitchen with a large frown furrowing his brow.

With a sigh, you opened the door to find Eddie Munson with a large to-go bag of Chinese food. His nose and cheeks were red from the cold, and he lumbered past you without saying hello, a waft of black leather and snow.

“Did you know the power’s on like two miles from here?” He unwrapped the scarf from his neck and toed out of heavy leather boots.

You coughed and scratched at the back of your neck as you watched the exchange between house guests when Eddie finally looked up to find Steve waiting in the kitchen, arms crossed over his broad chest.

Eddie’s lips quirked up into that wolfish grin, shaking damp hair from his eyes. “Well, I’ll be dammed, Harrington. Isn’t this a surprise?”

With a sigh, you closed the front door and rested your forehead against the frigid metal. This was going to be a long day.

---

Hope your power comes back and you have a better day, Jelly, my dear xoxoxo

#steve harrington fic #eddie munson fic #amanda's gifts for friends #amanda's faves

[the-broken-truth]

A Father's Son [Part 4] - Miguel O'Hara w/ Teenage Spider Son Reader

Summary: It has been a year since I welcomed this world's version of Gabriella into my life, and everything has been running smoothly. However, one day I was on my way to pick her up from soccer practice when I noticed an unwelcome face talking to her.

Taglist: @christinesdemoness1958

[Earth-121 / The Soccer Field]

Placing my hand over my mouth, I yawned as I walked down the sidewalk with one hand in my pocket before I returned the other hand to the green and black jacket I was wearing - which happened to be Sleeper taking the form of a coat to protect us from the cold. Sleeper and I had just returned from dealing with our Afternoon Patrol - about 3 bank robbers were trapped in our webs and their bodies were devoured before we returned the money back to the bank; I had to pick brain pieces out of our teeth but it was necessary, Sleeper needed some power and I needed to make sure my partner and friend was well taken care of. We were on the way to pick up Gabriella from soccer practice.

It's been one year since I was allowed t come into this world and take the place of the Non-Existent Spider-Man & adopted Gabriella as her elder brother; as her legal guardian, I was able to put her into school while I got a job working at the newby construction site - it's a commission job until I found something more permanent but everything was going good with Gabriella and me. She was doing well in school and asked me if she was able to join the soccer team, I allowed it on the promise that she not speak to any strangers and even got her a pocket phone to call me just in case someone tried to speak with her. I turned the corner and the soccer field was in my sights, my eyes scanned the grounds when I finally caught sight of Gabriella and...

Wait...

Who is that talking to my sister?

There was a tall male, wearing a long grey shirt with a high collar, long pale pants, and brown shoes with...short brown hair and dark skin.

No.

He can't be here.

His notes said that there was nothing with this world's Gabriella that he was going to come here! I ran to the field and bolted into the gate before I called out to Gabriella, she looked around the man and locked eyes with me - she was crying - and she pushed past the man and ran into my arms as I pulled her behind me as the man turned to face me and I narrowed my brown eyes when hey locked with his red ones.

"What are you doing with my sister?" I growled at him, and he raised his eyebrow at me before opening his mouth to speak.

"What are you talking about? She's my daughter and I don't have a son." The nerve of this bastard.

"Are you certain about that, Miguel O'Hara? Or should I call you, Spider-Man 2099? Leader of the Spider-Society? How are Peter and Maday doing? Has Jessica Drew had her baby? Is Lyla still cracking jokes?" I asked with a raised eyebrow but with each question I asked, his eyes widened in shock and fear.

"The Computer said this world didn't have a Spider-Man, who do you know all of this information? Who are you?" Miguel asked and I just rolled my eyes.

"I'm Your SON, [Name] O'Hara! The one that you abandoned to raise another version of her but it caused a universe to collapse and she was taken away from you. I am the son whose mother you divorced because she couldn't give you any more children. I'm the son who left you and the Spider-Society to make a life of my own and you come here, trying to take my sister." I growled at him with a smirk, I wanted to eat his head; soon, the look of realization hit his face and he glared at me as well.

"You! You Foolish Boy! You come to another world that isn't your own and make a life here?! Do you realize that you can cause a universal collapse?!" Miguel barked as he pointed at me.

"I am not going to cause a Universal Collapse because there is no version of me here. I didn't alter anything and I found my sister here living alone after her father died and her mother left her alone. I've been here for a year and I have been able to protect this world as it's Spider-Man. Now, you will never get your hands on Gabriella so you can fuck right off." I waved him off before looking at Gabriella, "Let's go home, Gabby."

"Okay, big brother." She said as held onto my sleeve - Sleeper - with her little hands, I glared at Miguel before I grabbed Gabriella's Hand and started walking to the gate, we were halfway there when something connected to the back of Sleeper and yanked me back with a powerful force; pulling me away from my sister and sending me crashing to a tree. I heard Gabriella scream and opened my eyes to see O'Hara picking up my sister and swinging away. I quickly rose to y feet and webbed after them. There's no way in hell I'm going to let him get away with my sister and ruin my life again! This world is mine! Gabriella is my sister!! I am this world's protector! I shall protect it with everthing I have.

#spiderverse #miguel o'hara #spider!reader #son reader #male reader #sleeper symbiote #gabriella o’hara

[thesunfyre4446]

The lord who support aegon didn't do so because they hate woman, but because they see them as inferior to man. The green's propaganda was based only on misogyny (same the lord who support aegon) , and that funny cause they rely on the same system who basically destroy alicent and haelena's life. I really do not understand female who are team green, they basically based everything on the subjugation of women and their inability to govern and they rely on a system that sees them only as churning out children. Aemond said "rhaenyra may call herself queen but she has women's part", aegon's men cut off Rhaenyra's breasts to awaken Sunfyre, lord borros otto Jasper and many others spend their life claiming a son came before an older daughter (and for what reasons?), lord pike (im not sure of his name but he is one of aegon' supporter who survive the dance) was describe as "a men who fought to prevent the accession of a woman to the throne". It doesn't matter that rhaenyra have bastards cause people were plotting her usurpation wayyy before her marriage (it wouldn't matter if she were jaehaerys himself born again, rhaenyra is a woman. Otto's word on ep. 3. He admit that rhaenyra may have been the perfect princess and thos still wouldn't prevent her from usurpation). Do you really feel represented by them? Rhaenyra may not be a femminist but it's undeniable that her ascension to the throne would have been a great step forward for women and that she had all the cards in order to become a good queen. It is sufficient to see her positions the council in ep 6, how she always manages to remain calm in front of horrible circumstances (such as the driftmark petition or the black council), how she rule peaceably dragonstone for years. Obviously the war, the usurpation and the death of all her children made her lose her head (as is normal). But if that hadn’t happened she would have been a good queen, definitely better than alicent, Aegon or anyone else. And please do not say that this was the vision of the time because things can change, our society is not equal to the medieval

ohhhh i love this ask so much

ok so first of all, different lords supported the greens for different reasons. misogyny was def one of them!! @green-aeggs-and-spam made a really great post about this :

so now let's talk about the greens themselves :

otto : while i do believe that otto is a misogynist , his main reason for wanting aegon on the throne is to be the grandfather of the king = personal interests. like if he was aemma's father you know he'd be selling "equal rights for women" T-shirts lol

alicent : wants aegon on the throne because if rhaenyra will ascend the throne her children will die. the patriarchy might have ruined her life, but she also has something to gain from it - the system supports aegon as king and keeps her children safe. so as much as she hates & was hurt by the westerosi patriarchal system her family's survival is dependent upon upholding it. same with helaena , her own children will also be in danger if rhaenyra ever became queen. (i've made a post about why rhaenyra would have to kill alicent's sons when she ascends the throne : https://www.tumblr.com/thesunfyre4446/739501560667734016/ok-so-ive-been-getting-a-lot-of-rhaenyra-would?source=share)

criston : pre ep 4, he was very much team rhaenyra. he didn't seem to have a problem with her inheriting over aegon, he's dornish, so that might seem very normal to him. criston supports the greens because of his hatred towards rhaenyra & love towards alicent = he's a man driven entirely (some may say a little too much haha) by his feelings.

so of course the greens are going to try and uphold the patriarchy, because - while it also ruined alicent's life - they have everything to gain from that system being kept. their lives are dependent on it & their political power.

no, i don't feel represented by alicent. i don't need to feel represented by a character in order to love & support them. of course that I believes in equal rights & am a feminist. but i don't need the fictional characters i like to represent my values. westeros is not a real place, alicent & rhaenyra are not real people. i don't need to pick the the team who'd be better for the realm - [ though i don't think that the blacks would be better to the realm then the greens]. - i'm going to root for the characters that i find interesting & love.

my main reason for disliking rhaenyra is that i find her character boring and lacks interesting inner conflict. also, as you've said, rhaenyra is not a feminist. rhaenyra is team rhaenyra, and that's fine! she wants the throne for her own personal reasons, and when she's queen she doesn't do anything to help other women - she even refuses other firstborn daughter to be named heirs because it would destabilize the realm = rhaenyra has no intention to "break the wheel". she's not dany. so would her reign have been a step forward to all women? i honestly don't know, because a woman sitting on the throne does challenge the patriarchy, but rhaenyra herself has shown no interest in helping & advancing other women. (not to mention lowborn women).

another great post by @blackcat419.

#house of the dragon #hotd #team green #pro team green #asks #alicent hightower #otto hightower #aegon targaryen ii #aemond targaryen #rhaenyra targaryen #anti daemon targaryen #criston cole

[ynyaan]

𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙛𝙚𝙡𝙩 𝘾𝙤𝙣𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙞𝙣𝙩 ♡ | 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ࣪𖤐

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | ♕

𝘼𝙣𝙭𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨!𝙇𝙤𝙠𝙞 𝙭 𝙑𝙪𝙣𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙡𝙚!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 | 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: Loki is in the center of his conquest, worried that he has one last tie that could bring him to ruins. "If they threaten me with you, it WILL work." The once empty man is now a mess, all for you.

.ᐟ 𝙇𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩-𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙩 / 𝙛𝙡𝙪𝙛𝙛

Loki was always sure of his plans. He planned to take over the world, but to do that, he needed an army. You were both staying in Asgard as Loki began to form and arrange his plans.

"In a rush, love?" you inquired. Knowing full well his response. You looked at Loki, the man you loved and choose to ran away with, the man who you loved that convinced you to run, to rebel against Asgard and take what's 'rightfully' his. The thought of it terrified you, of course. But in all of the days you've come to love Loki, it was the first time you'd seen him so angry, so determined. Besides, you couldn't say no to him when he asked you to support him from the side. He was the man you loved, and to love is to fight.

"I know, darling. I'm sorry, but today is an important day. I'll finally be able to sign a treaty–a promise, with them." Loki sighed as he put on his signature green cloak. 'The Chitauri.'  The ones Loki hoped to form an alliance with, to help him with the war he was about to face.

"Be safe, Loki. I'll be waiting for you." Loki approached you and pressed his lips on your forehead, then your cheek. "I'll make it up to you, my queen." He whispered. A gold-like color illuminated Loki, and in a flash, he disappeared.

... "FUCK!" Loki threw his daggers down on the floor.

"What happened? Why are you yelling?" You rush to him as he shuts the door loudly. He buries his face on your neck, breathing your scent in.

You wrap your arms around his neck, embracing him back, finding warmth and comfort in his affection. "They ran off, annoying bastards. They vetoed being led by me, and when I got infuriated, they decided to attack me. Only when I slaughtered those damn big creatures did they retreat." He huffed in anger.

You ran your fingers through his hair and caressed him softly. "It's alright, Loki. You'll find a new army, I'm sure of it." Even though you were now firmly against his plans, you still offered him assurance.

Loki always seemed so.. Anti-villain, but to you, he was simply misunderstood—afraid. "Thank you, Love—your right. I'll try to bargain with those fools. If they refuse, I'll just kill them all." He grinned.

"There's my Loki." You kissed his forehead and pushed away from his grasp. "Let's head to bed, shall we?"

You wake up stretching your arms to find no one at your side. "Loki?" You softly whisper. You sit up to see Loki dressing in his usual working clothes.

"Right. Will you be back soon?" The lack of affection you both had lately was itching in your mind.

"I'll be back soon, darling." He replied, but his face was filled with slight remorse. 'Stay.' You wanted to voice out so badly. But you couldn't–you didn't want to foil or deter his plans. So you nodded and waved him off.

You stood up, deciding that if he wouldn't spend time with you, you'd spend time with yourself. You started putting on a fitted t-shirt, baggy pants, and a flannel with the ends tied together. You opened the doors to your room and went straight to Heimdall.

"Hello, Heimdall." You greeted him with a tilt of the head. "Midgard?" He asked. You chuckled softly as you nodded your head. He opens the Bifrost, and you walk through it.

You walk through the shops of Midgard. They have so much variety compared to Asgard. Walking through the streets, you find a shop that particularly caught your eye.

You walk over to it, and the doors jingle. "Welcome to Darcy's Jewels!" A loud greeting was offered as you went in.

"Hello! Do you have any Gold Vermeil rings?" You inquired. The girl that assisted you smiled and pulled out a selection of rings. There were different designs, such as: butterflies, crowns, gems, and more. A shining green light distracts you from your side, and you look upon a ring. It was a plain gold ring twisted into a braid, partnered with an emerald green jem all around. The girl assisting you smiled as you pointed to the ring. You paid for it and went out, waving away from the store.

You look at the little purple bag and the red box inside it. You smiled and decided to go back to Asgard. As you were walking, you suddenly stopped. You looked to your right to see an alleyway—you couldn't shake the feeling that someone, something, was following you.

Suddenly, a hand reached out to you in the darkness, pulling you by the arm. You yelped and held on tight to the little bag. You caught sight of the arm that grabbed you, and it looked rather..unworldly. It pinned you to the wall with the arm now covering your mouth. "Stay put, and you might live mortal."

...

Loki was in a dining hall, a tree-like table was flooded with chitauri soldiers on both sides, with Loki seated up front.

The leader of the Chitauri slammed its hand on the table. “Loki of Asgard, we refuse once more. We do not see you as fit to be a leader. Odin has refused you the throne for a reason.”

“Really? Well, I suppose we have no other way.” Loki took out his daggers and pointed them to the Chitauri Leader. The monster chuckled at the sight of the God of Mischief. Loki raised one of his brows slightly, but instead of inquiring, it's a How dare you? Type of eyebrow.

“You must’ve forgotten that you still have a weakness, aesir.”

Loki's brows furrowed, and his eyes laced with malice. “What did you do? What did you do to her?” The Chitauri laughed as they saw the God’s expression shift into a desperate plea.

You were stuck between a wall and a chitauri with one hand clutching your gift. ‘Just great,’ You thought.

You lifted your right leg to the chitauri’s chest and pushed him away. He grunts and launches himself forward, pinning you to the wall. You slap him with your free arm and bite his left arm. He groans, and you rush out of the alley, going thru the sea of people in the streets.

“HEIMDALL-??” You scream, a blast of rainbow begins to ascend you. You caught a glimpse of the Chitauri running away in the other direction.

You arrive in Asgard. Huffing and trying to catch your breath. “Thank you-“

“He is waiting for you.” You were cut off by Heimdall speaking without glancing at you. You wordlessly try to understand what he means, a lightbulb sparking inside you. “Loki!” You squealed, getting up and running towards the Asgardian Palace.

...

You open the doors to your quarters to find Loki standing ominously in the middle of the room. His hair was disheveled, and his face in anger. “Loki!” You run toward him, craving his warmth after what you have been through.

“Where have you been?” He asked. He held you by the shoulders as you stood before him, holding onto your gift tightly.

You look at him, surprised by his tone, slightly terrifying but assuring yourself that Loki would not hurt you by any means. “O-On Midgard? Listen, the Chitaur–“

“I KNOW. THEY TOLD ME Y/N. YOU COULD'VE BEEN KILLED OR TAKEN.” Loki hung his head as he breathed deeply in desperation and anger.

You were surprised at his sudden outburst, ‘they told him?’ You were so confused about what was happening but proceeded to calm Loki down first. “But I wasn't killed nor taken. I'm alive. I'm right here. I'm fine.” You say, not moving an inch from where you stood.

“(y/n). You we're lucky- just, please, stay here. Stay inside." Loki stuttered with his words, gasping sentence's like he couldn't breathe.

You just couldn't understand, why is he acting like this? you we're safe, is that simply not enough? must he cage you? "Loki, why-"

"Because if they threaten me with you, it WILL work.” Tears. Droplets of water fell to the floor. It was Loki’s. You sighed and dropped your gift to the ground. “Loki. I'm sorry to have been such a burden to you.” You felt like you we're weakening him, holding him back from being reckless, holding him back from his true nature.

Loki lifts his face, and you see his eyes glistering with tears. “Darling, no, no. That's not what I meant.” He cups your face and kisses your forehead. “I'm sorry, I'm so scared of losing you." He breathes out.

"You're the only thing keeping me sane. If I lose you, i won't be able to take it, i'd die without you (y/n)."

With nothing to say, you bent down and smiled softly to grab the gift. “Here, this is why I went out to Midgard.” Loki tilted his head as he took the gift from your hands. He puts his hand in and grabs the red box.

His expression shifted to awe as he saw the gift inside it. He took it out and slipped it onto his finger, raising his hand to admire the ring. “It's breathtaking. Thank you. Also, i’m glad you’re safe.” He hugs you tightly, a desperate hug, a plea to never leave him.

You sighed softly. You saw the state of Loki’s well-being and thought, ‘How poisoned this man is with my love.’

“I love you, Loki.” You whisper. “you have no idea.” He responds.

𝙒𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙥𝙖𝙙: Star (@_ynyaan) ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 <𝟥

#loki fanfic #loki x reader #loki x y/n #loki fluff #loki x you #mcu loki #loki imagine #fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki of asgard #fem!reader #loki fanfiction #loki is hot #oneshot #protective #mcu fluff #angst with a happy ending #light angst #mcu fanfiction

[shyvioletcat]

ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY 29

~ Firsts (date/kiss/time/child/etc) ~

Look what's back! I'm not going to ruin the surprise by telling you what first this is, but I hope you enjoy it. As always, this one AU comes with an 18 + warning for smut.

I Wish You Would Masterlist

~~~~~

“Close your eyes.”

The words were whispered by her ear and the sentiments encouraged with a kiss right below it. Aelin shivered, her skin pebbling from the gentle caress of breath and the anticipation of what would happen if she did as Rowan asked. He kissed her again, this time her neck, over and over until Aelin couldn’t help but sigh. 

Then Rowan rose over her, leaning in close enough for lips to brush but not quite kiss. “Come on, love.”

“What do I get?” Aelin’s hand ran over his bare shoulder, stopping when she reached the edge of his hair. They were both utterly bare, a sheet haphazardly draped wherever it pleased. They were spending a lazy, mid week morning in bed. Aelin had edits to do but Rowan was on that blessed sabbatical between books. He had the time, Aelin didn’t, but she wasn’t going to waste an opportunity to waste away some an hour or so under Rowan’s undivided attention. 

“That’s for me to know,” a sweet kiss that left her wanting more. “And for you to find out.”

With one final look into Rowan’s green eyes, Aelin finally did as he requested. The world dimmed and she frowned when every remnant of Rowan vanished. She didn’t like this and missed the closeness of his body. Maybe if she just took the tiniest peek she could find him, touch him.

“If you open your eyes, you’ll get nothing until tonight,” Rowan told her, like he was able to read her mind. 

“Bastard,” she huffed, making her boyfriend chuckle. 

Patience was not a virtue Aelin possessed, but it seemed Rowan wanted to play a game. She would try and have some to go along with it for him, she was gracious like that. There was shuffling of sheets and then the world dimmed just a little more. She could sense that Rowan was braced above her and still not touching her. Aelin was about to demand he do something when there was a ghost of a breath on her neck. Instantly every sense went on high alert as anticipation took over. There was a featherlight brush of Rowan’s lips over her pulse and then the fingers that tickled through the valley of her breasts nearly made her jump. As he laughed Rowan kissed her. When he pulled away Aelin chased after him, but she didn’t open her eyes. She wasn’t looking to ruin his amusement, she knew he was having fun.

“Stay still, Aelin,” Rowan said.

She knew she was in for it now. There was a smiling edge to his voice. Aelin tried to relax into the mattress, it was hard to do while trying to predict what Rowan would do next. He dragged his fingers the same path that they’d travelled before, right down the centre of her chest. Rowan did that a few times, then added his thumb to sweep over the curve of her breast. That teasing touch had Aelin humming her approval and in the hope that it would encourage him to do more. It did, and Rowan returned to her neck, kissing and nipping. Aelin fisted her hands in the sheets to prevent her from breaking Rowan’s command. Then his hand was moving downward, making long sweeps and getting a little lower each time. This was an exercise in perseverance and Aelin was holding on by a thread. Especially when his fingers dipped even lower finally about to graze over—

The sound of the door bell had Aelin’s eyes snapping open, finding Rowan already looking at her. 

“Leave it,” Aelin said, hips pushing up to encourage Rowan to keep going. 

“It’s probably my author’s copy.” Rowan sounded pained. “I can’t.”

The bell rang again and Rowan swore. He was in no state to answer the door, the person making the delivery would cop quite the eyeful. Aelin growled, rolling out of bed and grabbing a t-shirt.

“What are you doing?” Rowan asked. 

Aelin yanked the shirt so that her head popped out of the collar. “You can’t answer the door, you’ll take someone’s eye out with that thing.” 

She pointed to his raging erection, leaving him laughing as she hurried to the door. Rowan lived in a tidy little town house but it was still a race to the front door—Aelin nearly tripped rushing down the stairs. Opening the front door she saw the postie was returning to his bike, Rowan’s package in hand. 

“Wait!” She called out, darting down the three concrete steps of the porch.

The postman turned, and their eyes went wide. It was very easy to piece together what had kept Aelin inside so long. Dressed in a man’s shirt, hair a mess, and she wouldn’t be surprised if there was a hickey on her neck. 

“Just sign here,” the postie said, politely averting his eyes. 

Aelin took the device and scribbled away on the little screen and then was handed the package. It looked like Rowan was right judging by the weight and shape of it. This was his copy of his brand spanking new book. Aelin pulled the hem of her borrowed shirt down when she got to the steps, making sure her ass was covered as she nearly bounded back to the front door. She loved it when her new books arrived, it was always a thrill to see a story printed and bound. It was safe to assume Rowan would feel the same. 

Shutting the front door with her foot, Aelin turned the package over in her hands. Rowan had been very secretive about this book and it had her curious as to what was hiding inside. When she got to the top of the landing she pulled the tab, ripping the cardboard packaging down the side. She almost reached in and pulled the entire book out, but in the end she stopped herself. Receiving an author's copy was sacred and even though she was nosy and maybe a little obnoxious, Aelin wouldn’t take this moment away from him. 

Aelin stepped into Rowan’s bedroom, the morning light giving it a soft, warm glow. He was still lying in bed, gloriously naked and smiling at her. 

“Your book came,” Aelin said, waving the package in her hand. 

Rowan sat up a little bit. “How do you know?”

Aelin shrugged as she sat on the bed. “I may have had a tiny peek.”

“You opened my book?” There was an unexpected edge to his voice but Aelin supposed she deserved it. 

She handed him the book but he was already pulling it from her hand, looking slightly panicked for no apparent reason. 

“I did think about opening it, but,” Aelin gave an apologetic grimace. “Author sense kicked in and I thought better of it.”

Rowan shot her a chiding look and just straight up ripped open the rest of the cardboard packaging in two. Aelin watched intently, seeing a red cover and a hint of gold lettering. The book fell open in his hands and he thumbed through until he got to the front pages. His eyes darted over the words and judging from where in the book he was Aelin assumed it was the dedication page or maybe the table of contents. Rowan snapped the book shut, flipping round so that it faced Aelin the right way up. 

“Have a look,” he told her. 

Aelin took the book without taking her eyes off the man in front of her. There was something going here and she had no idea what it was. She was the schemer, and she felt out of her depth when it was turned on her. Her fingers ran over the embossed cover, tracing of the elegant design Rowan had chosen. The title was The Flame Princess, and it looked like it wasn’t related to any of his previous works. Aelin started at the beginning, reading the title page, glancing over the publishing information, the list of other books Rowan had written. And then she got to the dedication.

For Aelin. I love you. To whatever end.

Aelin’s heart was beating so hard she could hear it in her ears. Eight words had altered her world just like that, and she read them over and over until she knew each letter by heart. Rowan had a way with words, it was what made him such a good writer. But flowery words weren’t needed here, because as the man that held her heart this is who he was. Open and direct, an honest man who wanted to tell the whole world how he felt. The simplicity took nothing away from the sentiments. It was perfect. 

“You love me,” Aelin said, her cheeks aching from her wide smile. 

“I do, Aelin,” Rowan said, bringing himself level with her face. “And I want the whole world to know it.”

She looked back down at the book, the page blurring as her eyes misted over. Her fingers ran over the words, this moment would live in her memories forever. Aelin knew that she loved him back, she had just been searching for the right time to tell him. Nothing seemed right and thank Mala she had waited so that they could have this moment instead. Looking up and blinking away the tears Aelin found Rowan watching her, something shy about his expression. Aelin put the book on the nightstand with reverence, leaving her hands free to cup his face. 

“I love you, too,” she told him, her heart leaping at the blinding smile Rowan gave her. “How could I not, when you’re ready to declare it to the whole world.”

“Aelin.”

Her name was the only warning before Rowan pounced, easily pulling her beneath him. Aelin had kept her hands on his cheeks and used that leverage to bring him down for a kiss. With every caress of their lips the words were reiterated.

I love you, I love you, I love you. 

But Aelin couldn’t resist, she had to say it aloud again. “I love you, Rowan Whitethorn.”

Rowan brushed their noses together. “I love you, Aelin Galathynius. To whatever end.”

Hearing those words Aelin’s heart felt like it was about to burst from her chest. She would never tire of hearing it. 

“Now,” Rowan said with a brazen smile. “Where were we?”

“Oh, gods.” Aelin choked out. He wasted no time, Rowan took up exactly where they had left off.

His fingers slid to her very centre before dragging up to her clit. Aelin’s moan shuddered out of her, Rowan swallowing the sounds. He teased her, driving her mad because he withheld just enough to keep her on the edge of release. He relented, just a little, but not enough. 

Rowan’s fingers played at her entrance and his thumb pressed down on her clit, making her ache for him in the best way. 

“Rowan,” her voice was a breathless whisper. “I wanna come.”

Aelin was impressed that she managed to get the words out her brain was so frazzled. Rowan adding a finger inside her didn’t help the matter. 

“But where, Aelin?” Rowan’s mouth was an insistent weight on her neck.

“What?” She asked, hips moving in time with his taunting fingers.

“Where do you want to come?” Rowan kissed the hollow of Aelin’s throat, downward to the centre of her chest, and then she whimpered embarrassingly when his teeth closed over a taut nipple through the fabric of his shirt.

Aelin wondered why and hated that she was still dressed, what a disaster. Without the godsdamned she would be able to feel Rowan's teeth and the warmth of his mouth. 

“Aelin,” Rowan said, his thumb circling the nerves at the apex of her thighs, like that could wring an answer from her. 

And through some miracle it did. 

“Your cock, Rowan,” Aelin decided. “I want you inside me. Please.”

Rowan gave her a single kiss. “Anything for the woman I love.”

When Rowan drew back to get a condom Aelin took the opportunity to get rid of the t-shirt. She flopped back onto the pillows, waiting, knowing that Rowan loved her like this. Naked and sprawled in his bed. Foil tore and Rowan rolled the condom on himself while Aelin slid a leg either side of him. She watched as his gaze darkened further as he took in every part of her that was on display. His hands started at her ankles, then pressed their way up her body, touching and feeling everywhere that had fire sparking in her blood. 

They were eye to eye now, and Aelin draped her arms over his shoulders and back. “You love me? Then show me.”

“I’ll fuck you so well it’s the only thing you remember,” Rowan said. 

Before Aelin could think of some smartass remark to make in return, Rowan rolled his hips and pushed into her until he had nothing left to give. She moaned his name before he started moving and intelligible words were beyond her. Rowan’s thrusts were slow but thorough, her body shuddering with each one. Aelin clung to him, one hand buried in his hair and the other clawed into his back. 

“I love you,” Rowan whispered harshly, his voice giving away that he was just as wrecked as she was. “You are it for me, Aelin. I’ll never love anyone like I love you.”

“Oh, Rowan,” Aelin gasped. “I love you so much.”

“Are you close, Aelin?” He asked. “Is that the only thing you remember? My name and that you love me?”

“Yes, Rowan—” Aelin moaned as her body surrendered to the feel of him. “I love you.”

Rowan groaned and her core pulsed, her release right there, just out of reach. His hand coasted over her body until it reached her thigh. Rowan’s fingers splayed in a broad grip, slanting their bodies together so he hit deeper. 

With absolute tenderness, Rowan kissed her. Like she was the most precious thing in the world. “I want to hear you say that forever.”

Gentle was not what Aelin wanted right now, even as her heart flipped in her chest. “Harder, I need it,” she begged.

Rowan gave it to her. He angled his hips to apply the right kind of pressure where she needed it. Each thrust was precise and only took a few more before Aelin was breaking apart. She came, moaning from deep in her throat and then the babbling took over. 

“I love you, I love you,” Aelin repeated the words over and over until her racing heart began to slow. 

Rowan’s hips stilled and he groaned into Aelin’s neck. They both went limp, Rowan had the care to roll off her before he collapsed completely. Aelin wasn’t so gracious. She twisted so that she lay on him, her ear pressed right over his heart. A heart that belonged to her. Aelin kissed Rowan’s bare skin, feeling the flushed warmth on her lips. His hand found its way to her hair, brushing it aside so he could see her properly. 

Aelin looked up at her boyfriend, her very handsome boyfriend who loved her. She couldn’t wait until his new book came out and all his readers could see those words and know what a wonderful man she had the privilege of calling her own. It might even deter some of the more avid fangirls. That thought made her laugh, and she tried to muffle the sound on Rowan’s chest. 

“What is it?” He asked, a thumb grazing over her cheek. 

“When that book comes out you’re going to break some hearts,” Aelin told him. 

His brows furrowed. “Why?”

Aelin propped herself up on his chest, tracing the patterns of his tattoos. “Because you love me, and just me. All those girls who have been fawning over you will finally know where your heart lies.”

Rowan chuckled, catching her hand and laying it over said heart. “With you.”

“Just so you know, I won’t be outdone by this, your little declaration,” Aelin said. “I’ll have to think of something more… something better.”

“I look forward to it,” Rowan said, sounding all too pleased by the challenge she had set herself. “So. Through my words and deeds, have I given you sufficient declarations of my love for you?”

Aelin pushed herself up and brushed back Rowan’s hair, contemplating her answer. Then she smirked at him before she kissed him deeply, leaving him breathless when she broke away just enough to give him her answer. “Not quite yet, I think I need a few more. Just to be sure.”

~~~~~

These two make me so happy

@rowaelinscourt

#rowaelin month #rowaelin month 2023 #I wish you would

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

Hey lovely! You totally don't have to do this if you don't want to or don't like it! May I please request Tangerine dating fem!reader who is a kindergarten teacher? So very kind, patient, understanding, colorful wardrobe etc <33

hii honey!! super cute :(( love it!! 💌 sorry for delay, it’s been in my drafts for a little bit

—

TAN WITH TEACHER READER

im kind of basing reader off jess day- seems TOO perfect not to do so (maybe unintentionally doing the same with tan and nick (my bfs and I can't help it))

I think that in a way, you being a teacher heals something in tan- how you'll be understanding, helpful and patient. but not in the way that gets you walked all over!! he obviously has a boundary, but you being so sweet and kind and sincere- like that stereotypical radiant feminine energy is something he needs in life. he won't ever take that for granted, and appreciates the kindness you show him (probs doesn't think he needs or deserves it) I think you also show him lots of compassion, which he isn't used to

you're very different from each other, but you make it work. opposites attract. you're fun, bright and colourful. tan is quiet, calm and dark. it's not in a way that overshadows one another- it merges in a way that works well, where one lacks the other gains

maybe he pokes fun at how eccentric you are (never any malice) just a light-hearted comment about the colour of your tights- all sweet and airy!!

he loves to eat the treats you bake for your students. he needs to check they're not poisonous!!! (he's so considerate)😔

maybe when you're at the dining table or in your home office, he offers you help when planning your lessons. maybe trying to persuade you to let the kids watch a movie, "come on, it's only a couple hours," or "my teachers were a bunch of grumpy old bastards—don't be that teacher," but obviously you're very different to those he described, so he uses it in a way to playfully blackmail you

when he does the washing/ laundry (I can't have him being a lazy guy- he HAS to be competent or I'll rip my hair out💔) he smiles to himself when he sees all of your bright clothing amongst all of his dark clothing. like little pops of purple and green within his navy t-shirts :(( def snickers when hanging your fun skirts next to his plain grey trousers 

GRUMPY X SUNSHINE ! ! ! 

you're like his little ball of warmth <3

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

no taglist for this as not a proper fic/ drabble

#ask #tangerine #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x reader #tangerine x you #tangerine x fem!reader #tangerine headcanon

[perfinn]

the heat that drives the light

aemond targaryen x tyrell!oc - part iii

wc: 3.1k

summary: a tourney is held to celebrate aemond and cecily's wedding, and aemond finds himself participating despite his outspoken disdain for tourneys.

cw: period typical ableism, jousting inaccuracies, brief sexual fantasies and sexual references

masterlist, read on ao3, divider by saradika

The day following Aemond and Cecily’s wedding boasts a grand tourney. It boasts the attendance of many of the realm’s noble houses, much of them coming from the Reach given their fondness for tourney, and given too that the union celebrated is that of their future wardeness. 

Aemond rises in his bedchambers long before Cecily awakes, lifting the blanket and nodding in satisfaction at the specks of blood that stain the sheets. They have done their duty, and with any luck it will take right away and he will not need to put either of them through this again. He glances to Cecily’s sleeping face. Her hair – still half-braided as it was for the wedding – is a mess around her, and she sleeps with her mouth open ever so slightly. Still, she is beautiful. Even now. He cannot deny that, not a man alive could deny that.

He looks away, huffing softly to himself and standing. While he cannot deny she’s a work of art to look upon, he also cannot let himself be fooled by it. Weaker men are slaves to their desire. Aemond is not. 

He dresses and leaves before she has even stirred, making his way from the Red Keep and toward the tourney grounds. He denies the offer of a litter, but accepts the escort of a gold cloak, knowing his mother will worry if he doesn't. It is not as though he could not protect himself from smallfolk if provoked, but he is not so arrogant as to think he will notice every little pickpocket that scurries the streets. 

He reaches the tourney grounds with no issue, seeing a number of tents pitched bearing the sigils of many great houses. He pauses outside of one tent, gazing up at the insignia of a white tower for a moment. He clenches his jaw, glancing away before moving on and ducking into the tent emblazoned with the Three-Headed Dragon. 

It is empty, of course. He is the only Targaryen to fight today, though he does not wish it so. Someone must. Aegon is no doubt being dragged from some pleasure house, Daeron is too young. And his uncle, along with Rhaenyra and her bastards have not even bothered to come. Aemond does not know if they were even invited, though he cannot say he blames them if they were. He would not go were he offered an invite to any of their weddings. 

Aemond is left to represent his house, represent his half of the marriage. He huffs as a squire ducks into the tent, wide brown eyes meeting the prince. He wears a green and gold shirt, and Aemond clenches his jaw to hold back a sigh. 

Another Tyrell. No doubt another of Cecily's cousins. Another benefit afforded to the Tyrells through this union, he’s sure. What else have they been given in this? How heavily they benefit from this marriage, and what does Aemond get? Perhaps the Greens have gotten security, have gotten Cecily's dowry and the likely promise of support when the issue of succession inevitably arises. But Aemond? What has he gotten? He has gotten nothing from this, nothing but humiliation and shame. 

He glares at the boy as he approaches, flexing his hand before holding it up. He does not need to be dressed in his armour yet, he’s not going to waste his time. “Fetch my grandsire. I wish to speak to him.”

The boy pauses in his footsteps, mouth dropping open. Aemond supposes he’s frightened of him. Or just a fool.

“The Hand of the King, boy,” he snaps. “Lord Otto Hightower. Go.”

The boy nods, bowing clumsily before rushing out of the tent and leaving Aemond alone once again. He takes a seat by the table, fingers flexing as he awaits his grandsire’s presence. He respects him, of course, but he cannot help but want to chew the man out for organising this, and all but forcing him to participate. 

(Though in truth Otto did not force him, but it’s his own wedding tourney, what kind of man would not participate in his own celebration? To let other men fight for his own wife would be all but declaring himself a weakling and a cuckold.)

Otto arrives soon after, and Aemond stands to greet him with a scowl, an all too comfortable expression. “Grandsire,” he says before the man can say anything. “This tourney is a farce.”

“I am glad you think so,” says Lord Otto, amusement on his face. “And yet you participate?”

“Well, I must, mustn’t I? But I should not have to, this should not be happening. She is blind, grandsire. She cannot even watch the proceedings.”

“No, but she is from the Reach. Her house and their banners would not be pleased if we stole from them an opportunity to show their support for her by way of their favourite tradition.”

Aemond’s jaw clenches for he knows his words are true. “Was her opinion on the matter considered?”

“We did not ask her. Her father agreed.”

Aemond laughs bitterly. At least they are equal in that regard. It is a sobering reminder that this marriage is not theirs but rather their parents’. Their names are joined but not their souls. 

Otto tilts his head at his grandson. “There was no obligation for you to participate,” he reminds him. “I am well aware of your disdain for tourney. I would not have asked this of you.”

“That is not what this is about. It is a humiliation, like this marriage is.”

Otto sighs, approaching the tense prince. “This is what must be done to secure the safety of our house, Aemond. We must all make sacrifices, and this is yours. Marrying a comely, clever young woman is not exactly the heaviest of sacrifices.”

Comely, he knows. She is beautiful, and for prayers to the old gods and the new he cannot get her smiling face out of his head. Clever, he doubts. She has not spoken anything particularly shrewd or insightful to him yet. 

(He ignores the voice that tells him he has not given her the chance to. If she were truly clever, she would have shown it without needing to be asked.)

“Do you wish to withdraw from the joust?”

“No!” Aemond snaps, not even making the Hand flinch. “I will not add to my growing pile of humiliations. I will fight today. And I will win.”

Otto chuckles dryly. “Do so with honour,” he reminds. “The Reach likes chivalry. They will like you better if you show it.”

Aemond says no more, watching Otto duck out of the tent and considering his words a moment. He is right, of course. He does need the Reach to like him, whether he wishes it or not. Aemond was not planning to fight without honour, but he decides then that he will be chivalrous. Whatever that fucking means. 

Some hours later Aemonds rides out onto the tourney ground on a horse the colour of Arbour gold, thankful for his helmet so that the crowds cannot see his frown. He turns his eyes to the king’s box, urging the horse toward it. He has but little care for the horse beneath him as anything more than a vessel, though he knows men of the Reach treat their horses like an extension of themselves. 

He cannot imagine troubling himself with such a fickle beast when he has a dragon. This farce would certainly be over faster were he able to ride in on Vhagar.

He spots Cecily easily in the box, seated between his mother and Flora. She wears a structured blue gown draped and lined with pearls, and her dark hair is pulled back and similarly secured with a winding string of pearls. 

When Aemond approaches and lifts the visor of his helmet, Flora gently coaxes her to stand, and Aemond can see the upset and concern on Cecily’s face as she approaches the balcony with a ring of white flowers clutched in her hands. “Lord husband?” She calls over the balcony, leaning forward as though she might be able to see him.

“Yes, my lady,” he calls back, trying to force the annoyance out of his voice. Why else would Flora have guided her to him? “I hoped I might be so lucky as to earn my wife’s favour.”

He wonders if the words sound as ridiculous to Cecily as they do to him. He lifts his lance to rest against the balcony, sparing Cecily of the need of trying to throw it. She gently grabs the end of it, carefully lacing the ring of flowers over it and letting it fall down toward Aemond. 

“Fight well,” she calls to him, offering him a smile. “Be careful.”

He hums, though he knows she can’t hear it at this distance. His gaze shifts to Flora, who grants him an apologetic smile. 

“Many apologies, my prince!” She calls. “I have promised my favour to my brother, Ser Leo. You understand, of course.”

Aemond supposes he does. He would not accept her favour regardless. Flora is not his wife, as much as he might prefer it.

Flora offers him a big smile, leaning forward. “He is set to join the Kingsguard! Is that not exciting?”

She certainly seems excited enough, though Aemond cannot much see why. He glances back to Cecily, who is smiling more now and seems at ease with the idea. Ah, he realises. Flora is naive not to notice what he and, evidently, Cecily have. Promising Ser Leo to the Kingsguard removes him from the line of succession to Highgarden. He is a threat to Cecily’s ascension, but swearing the white will have him neutralised. A fine enough idea on Lord Martyn’s part–

“‘Twas Cecily’s idea!” Flora declares proudly. 

Aemond fails to hide the surprise on his face when he turns his eyes to Cecily. Despite himself, he finds himself inching closer to the willingness to admit she is clever indeed. 

“Good luck, lord husband,” Cecily says, all but dismissing him.

Aemond nods, lowering his visor and riding off. He hopes this is over with soon. Were he weaker, he’d throw it and knock himself out of the running in the first round, but this is his wedding. And they’re already underestimating him, he knows it. They think because of his halved vision he will be weak, incapable of the joust. They are wrong.

He will prove them wrong and crown his wife the queen of love and beauty in the process. 

And prove them wrong he does, reaching the final joist with little trouble. His last opponent is Leo Tyrell himself, with Flora’s favour still settled on his lance. His face is uncovered so that he might shoot his handsome smiles toward the crowd, and Aemond rolls his eye. There is not yet a Tyrell he’s met that he can stand. Even Flora has begun to bother him. Weak, naive, narcissists that he is now bound to by marriage. 

At least he can knock one from his horse now. 

He spares a glance toward the stands to see his wife, who has Flora whispering into her ear and a worried expression on her face. No doubt Flora is commentating the entire event for her, though she does not seem to be enjoying the proceedings. Does she worry for him, or for her cousin? 

He huffs, putting her out of his mind and instead waiting for the bell to ring so he might knock Leo off his horse, and hopefully knock some sense into him in the process. 

The bell rings, and Aemond urges his horse forward, lance poised for Leo’s shield. He grits his teeth as he goes forward, but instead of knocking his opponent from his mount, Leo’s lance hits his shield. He feels every bone in his body rattle upon impact, but he manages to keep his seat, riding past Leo and taking a deep breath in to settle the rattling in his skull. 

They’re doubting you, Aemond, he says to himself. Prove them wrong.

When he surges forward again, he refuses to be humiliated. This time the lance strikes Leo, sending the young knight toppling off the back of his speckled mare. Aemond lets out a shout, allowing himself to smile since he knows no one can see it. 

But by the time he returns to Leo and lifts his visor his face is trained back into his practised neutrality. Leo stands to meet him, smiling jovially as he bows his head to Aemond. 

“Well done, good-cousin!” says Leo, offering a hand to Aemond. Aemond hesitates, but joins his hand with Leo’s in his best attempt at chivalry. Good-cousin. Gods, he despises that. Still, Leo does not seem the least bit bothered by his loss. Aemond cannot find it in himself to understand how that is– but perhaps when one has not been doubted all his life he does not fear the threat of second place. 

“You were a worthy opponent, Ser Leo,” Aemond says. It sounds wrong on his tongue, but he hears his grandsire’s voice echo in his head. The Reach will like him better if he’s chivalrous. This is as good as they’ll get. 

He leads his horse away and takes a crown of yellow and white roses from his squire. He turns it over in his hand slowly before he rides toward the box. There is no other choice in his mind, and he does not quite realise he never even considered another woman. 

Though he will tell himself he wishes he were wed to Flora, his gaze finds only Cecily. He calls out to her, “Lady Cecily!”

She rises, and Flora gently guides her to the small stairway that leads down to the grounds so that she might be face to face with him. He does not quite realise it, but he is smiling as she greets him. 

“My lady,” he greets, reaching out to her with the crown in his hands. “Hold up your hands?”

She does so with some hesitation, a conflicted smile on her face. He places the crown in her hands and gently guides it onto her head. “The realm may never see a queen of love and beauty more deserving of the title.”

“Thank you, lord husband,” she says, gently adjusting the crown so it sits securely over her dark hair. “It is an honour.”

“The honour is mine,” he tells her, and though he can scarcely believe this, he means it.

Once Aemond is back in his tent and freed of his armour, he is about ready to dismiss his new squire for the day when a familiar voice calls inside the tent. 

“May I come in?” says Lady Cecily, her silhouette illuminated against the closed flap of the entryway. 

Aemond nods to the squire and he rushes to the entrance, opening it for Cecily. The boy greets her politely and gently leads her in by the arm. She looks radiant this close, this intimate. Before, the eyes of the realm shrouded them in their shadow, now it is just them and the squire that Cecily is speaking gently to. 

“Thank you, sweet cousin,” she says to the boy, giving him a warm smile. “You did very well today. I am most proud. Leave us for a moment?”

The squire rushes from the tent, and Aemond and Cecily are alone again, as they had been last night. Suddenly Aemond feels the thorny vines of insecurity wrap around his ribcage. No one is expecting them to lie together, not here so close to other ears. But part of Aemond fears that is why she is here. 

Cecily stands before him in silence for a moment, hands clasped together as she picks at her nails. 

“You need not have fought today,” she says after a long bout of silence. “I know this is not an opinion shared by any of my peers but I find tourney to be a dangerous and ridiculous pastime. Perhaps it is because I cannot see it, but I–” 

She stops, taking a steadying breath and lifting her head, as though to look right at him. “It is a brazen display of pride, but it goeth before the fall.” Aemond fails to hide the surprise on his face. She would quote the Seven-pointed star at him? “You do not need to prove your bravery to me, lord husband.”

Aemond steps forward, placing one hand over both of hers, putting a stop to her fidgeting. “I did not fight today to prove anything to you or myself. This is your wedding tourney as much as it is mine. I could not let it pass with some other woman named the queen of love and beauty. Nor could I allow another man to give you the title.” He glances down at her hands and guides one of them to the lace on the cuff of her sleeve. He trails a gloved thumb over her nail beds, wanting to tell her off but instead only speaking gently to her. “Wear your embroidery. Fidgeting with it is not ladylike but it suits you far better than harming yourself.”

Cecily’s lips part in surprise as she takes in Aemond’s words, a soft ‘oh’ escaping her. “I see,” she says, beginning to play with the lace on her sleeve. “Well… that is very kind of you. Thank you.”

Aemond nods, hand still touching hers. He longs once more for the intoxicating heat of her bare skin touching his, cheeks heating at the memory of last night. He glances down at her lips, never more thankful that she cannot see it. Though he cannot delude himself into thinking she has not heard the rattling breath that escapes him. 

I am not a slave to my desire, he reminds himself. But in doing so, he can no longer deny that he desires her. He cannot help it, to desire a woman so beautiful and smart so carnally. But he will not fall victim to his urges. That will make him no better than his brother. He clears his throat, dropping his hand and settling it behind his back, clasped with the other. 

“If that is all, Lady Cecily,” he says, seeming to break her from her own reverie. “I will see you tonight.”

Cecily steps back and nods, smoothing her hands over her dress. “Yes, of course,” she says, voice softer than usual. She calls gently for her cousin, and Aemond watches as the boy leads her out. A traitorous image forces its way into Aemond’s head, of Cecily on her knees taking him from behind. He inhales sharply, looking away and clenching his fists. 

Damn it.

#one day these two are going to have a conversation where no one is supressing their emotions #people will DIE #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond #my work #aemond targaryen fanfic #ableism tw #aemond targaryen fanfiction #aemond x oc #aemond fanfiction #aemond fanfic #thtdtl #fyeahhotdocs