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#how do you protect him when you know you won’t be there
taeyongdoyoung · 2 days
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good for you
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summary: your boyfriend is literally perfect and treats you like a princess but you want him to completely lose control 😇 pairing: mingyu x reader genre: smut, tooth-rotting fluff warnings: established relationship, home intruder roleplay, consensual somnophilia, safeword exists but isn't used, rough sex, no lube, no protection, neck biting, size kink (no one is surprised), titty slapping, sir kink, spanking, praise+degradation, slight dumbification, subspace, pet names, shy dom gyu, crying, mentions of pee (non-sexual context), aftercare!!! word count: 1.7k
You and Mingyu have not been together for long but from what you know so far he’s the sweetest guy you’ve ever dated. He treats you like a princess, brings you flowers or chocolates with or without occasion, drives you around everywhere, gets stuff from the top shelf for you and is basically the kindest soul to ever step on this Earth. You are, of course, beyond grateful for that, and do your best to show him how much you appreciate him every chance you get.
However, a little demon inside your brain kind of wants him to not treat you as if you are made of glass all the time. While the sex is great and Mingyu makes sure that you reach an orgasm, you can’t help but fantasize about him going rough on you. Even when his friends tease (bully) him, he almost never uses his height and strength to his advantage, instead accepting everything with a good-natured smile.
But you would be lying if you said that the idea of him just snapping doesn’t excite you. Nevertheless, you are not sure how to bring this up to him. You don’t want to sound ungrateful or for him to feel insecure about his abilities because he’s perfect the way he is. It’s your filthy brain that needs fixing. Still, you decide that honesty is the key to a healthy relationship and you gather all your courage to approach him about this.
“Hey, Mingyu, can we talk about something?” you ask one evening after you two have finished having dinner.
His eyes are immediately filled with worry. Judging by the tone of your voice, this is something serious. So far, your relationship has been lighthearted and devoid of any problems. Mingyu thinks that it’s going great but apparently he’s been fooling himself.
“What’s wrong?” he wants to know. “You’re not breaking up with me, right?”
“What?! Of course not! Do you want to break up with me?” you panic.
“No, no, please,” Mingyu shakes his head fervently.
“Good, good,” you exhale in relief.
“So, what did you wanna talk about?”
“Um, it’s kinda embarrassing but I don’t want to keep any secrets from you.”
“Secrets?” Mingyu blinks in curiosity.
“Yeah…You know how you’re always super gentle with me, both outside and inside the bedroom?”
“Uh, sure? What about it?”
“Can you consider…not doing that all the time?”
“In what sense?” Mingyu raises his eyebrows in confusion.
“In the sense that…can you fuck me harder without holding yourself back? You’re not gonna break me, I promise.”
“Oh…” he finally realizes what you’re getting at. Because he doesn’t say anything rightaway, you hurry to explain.
“Not that I don’t like how sweet and patient you are with me! It’s more than amazing, I just thought that…maybe it’d be fun to try something new. If it’s not your thing, forget I mentioned it, I’m so-“
“It’s not that it doesn’t sound appealing. But I’m afraid that if I’m not holding myself back, I’ll end up hurting you,” Mingyu confesses, surprising you.
You reach your hand out across the table to hold his comfortingly.
“You won’t. I know how caring you are, Mingyu. Which is why I would trust you with something like this. Okay?”
“Okay,” he nods. “Did you have a particular scenario in mind or do you want me to surprise you?”
“Surprise me.”
Mingyu smirks sinisterly. Oh God. What kind of demon have you unleashed?
🎀🎀🎀
A few days later, you receive a text from Mingyu while you’re walking home.
Mingyu: Busy tonight?
You: All yours
Mingyu: Unlock your door at exactly 10pm and wait for me in your bed. If I’m not there by 10:30, lock it again, alright?
You: Yes, sir 🛐
Mingyu: That’s my good girl.
Fucking hell. Your heart flutters upon reading these words. He’s called you that before but in this context, it thrills you even more than usual.
Mingyu: Safeword is butterfly. Use it if something is too much, if you’re in pain or for any other reason that brings you discomfort, okay?
You: I’m gonna need a safeword?!?!
Mingyu: I hope it doesn’t come to that but just in case. See you in a couple of hours, baby.
You’re too excited for tonight. You take a long shower. You wear your prettiest lingerie and make your room as cozy as possible. Not that it matters. You spray perfume over your neck and wrists. You put on some lipbalm and mascara. You want to look good for him. But the truth is, you had an exhausting week and already feel sleepy. You unlock the door at 10pm, climb into your bed and…
Somehow you fall asleep. You feel disoriented as your consciousness is slowly returning to you. You feel too hot, too weak and too full. Fuck. What’s going on? You don’t dare to open your eyes for fear of ruining the sweeter than sleep reality.
“Dumb baby couldn’t wait for me and fell asleep all by herself?” Mingyu’s deep voice coos in your ear.
In your half-awake state you feel your boyfriend’s cock thrusting deep inside of you, taking you rougher than ever before. Well, you asked for it.
“So cute and helpless, leaving the door unlocked for anyone to enter and use you like a whore,” Mingyu murmurs.
He rubs your clit vigorously while still fucking into you, making you wetter than ever before.
“Nnghh,” you whimper drowsily.
“Shhh, baby, go back to sleep,” Mingyu whispers. “I’ll take care of you. You don’t have to think about anything.”
He squeezes your boobs, leaning down to bite your neck like a hungry wolf. And here, you thought your boyfriend was just a cute puppy.
“S-so big,” you cry out pitifully.
“You can take it, slut,” Mingyu says confidently.
You don’t offer a verbal response but your body speaks for itself. Mingyu is almost splitting you in two but your pussy is swallowing him up greedily.
“H-harder, p-please,” your mouth seems to have a mind of its own because it speaks against any common sense.
Mingyu slaps your tits, a little hesitant at first.
It stings but it’s such a sweet hurt you’re already addicted to it.
“Like this?” he asks, making sure it’s okay.
“M-more,” you beg, forgetting all inhibitions. “Use me.”
He does it a couple of more times, while still fucking you roughly. His dick is so enormous that you’re certain you’ll be sore tomorrow but it will be more than worth it. You lose count of how many times you’ve come around his cock. Sliding out and flipping you on your belly, he takes you from behind, too, spanking your ass and gripping your hair.
“Such a good girl, just for me, right? No one else gets to see you like this, yeah?” Mingyu’s words come out rushed, almost in trance.
“All yours, sir,” you promise.
Mingyu seems satisfied with your answer because he spills his seed inside of you seconds after. You follow his lead and eventually, your knees give out, your mind goes blank and you collapse on the bed.
“Baby?” Mingyu checks up on you worriedly.
You are not capable of responding, brain barely functioning anymore. He moves you gently to see your face. Your eyes are open but unblinking, which scares the shit out of him.
“Come back to me, my sweetheart, please,” Mingyu cries out, hugging you tightly.
A couple of moments later, you still don’t remember your own name but something more important to you leaves your lips:
“Mingyu?” you whisper cautiously.
“Oh, angel,” Mingyu sighs. “I’m right here.”
Then, you suddenly burst into tears. Overwhelmed by how good he made you feel and how much he cares about you, your fully emotions take over.
“What’s wrong, baby? Did I hurt you?” Mingyu positions you so that you are sitting on his knee and rocks you gently back and forth.
“N-no,” you shake your head. “I’m s-so happy.”
“You poor thing,” Mingyu chuckles softly. “Can’t believe you worked so hard to doll yourself up and make the room smell nice. You knew I was gonna ruin your lingerie anyway, didn’t you?”
“I just wanted to look good for you,” you admit with a pout.
“You always do. My best girl,” Mingyu kisses you sweetly and wraps you in his warm embrace, lulling you back to sleep.
🎀🎀🎀
The next morning, you wake up to the feeling of wanting to pee so badly. You manage to climb out of bed but barely make one step and trip on the ground. Uh oh. You got fucked so good you literally can’t walk.
Awakened by the loud thud, Mingyu is by your side in no time.
“What happened?”
“You happened,” you reply truthfully, but you don’t blame him because you brought this upon yourself.
“Oh…” Mingyu understands what you mean. “Did you want to use the toilet?”
“Uh, yeah. Gosh, this is so mortifying.”
You cover your face with your hands.
“I was literally deep inside of you a few hours ago, get over yourself,” Mingyu laughs and lifts you up effortlessly, carrying you to the bathroom.
“Are you gonna stare at me?!” you ask in embarrassment.
“Might as well,” he laughs but gives you some privacy, even though there is no need to be shy after all the things you’ve done together.
After that, he insists on doing everything for you. You tell him you are perfectly capable of brushing your own teeth but nope, Mingyu wants to do that, as well. And honestly? It feels too good to reject.
He even makes breakfast and brings it to bed so you can share it together. As you take the first bite and drink the first sip of coffee for the morning, the feelings come crashing once again. And you start crying even harder than last night.
“Oh, baby, what is it?” Mingyu wants to know, as he brushes your hair behind your ear and wipes your tears.
“N-nothing, you’re just so amazing and kind I feel extremely touched.”
“You do realize this is literally the bare minimum, right?” Mingyu seems shocked. He just made pancakes. It’s not some heroic act, in his humble opinion.
“It’s so rare to find a lovely guy like you, though,” you admit.
“Well, my good girl deserves only the best,” he smiles shyly and kisses your cheek.
You wrap your arms around his neck, grinning wider than ever before.
“Keep talking like that and I’ll want to be good for you forever.”
“I’m counting on it.”
The End
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drudyslut · 3 days
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Your requests are open again! Also this says rafe but you can change it to jj if you want!
Anyways...Reader and rafe are dating and reader has birth control but still gets nervous it won’t work so they use condoms and they both want to be closer together/not have a condom between them (but do not want to risk it), so reader suggests him practicing pulling out (while wearing a condom) and after a few times he is able to control himself, so reader says she does not want to use a condom if he is okay with not using one so it is kind of romantic and their first time with nothing between them and they feel closer and more intimate, but when he is about to pull out reader says it feels too good and tells him not to and so rafe is like “I’m gonna cum, I can’t hold it baby” and practically begs him to just cum inside (and he is like what? Are you sure?) and reader is like “I don’t care. Don’t pull out”
omfffffg. this is hot🤤 also, i did switch it to jj, hope that’s fr okay🥺🫶🏻 this just gives jj vibes bc rafe be fuckin’ without a condom no matter what, man does not gaf.
CW: 18+ only! strong language, fem receiving oral, protected sex, eventual unprotected sex, cream pie, praise and degrading.
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“J, I’ve told you, let’s just practice your pulling out with a condom, and then I promise, once you can control yourself, we’ll go raw.”
You want to feel closer to him, feel all of him, as much as he does you. And even though you’ve been on birth control since the two of you started dating — two years — you’re too afraid it won’t be effective.
And the last thing you and JJ need is a baby. You’re not financially in a spot to support a child, so for now, you continue using the protective barrier.
JJ sighs. “You’re right, baby.”
You can’t help but frown. You understand how frustrated he is, you’re just as frustrated, but you’re just doing what you feel is best. You want to feel JJ raw, but you just cannot risk it right now.
“Wanna practice now?” You ask with a smirk on your lips.
JJ grins widely, showcasing his perfectly straight, white teeth. “Absolutely I do.”
He walks toward you, his large hands grabbing your thighs and lifting you up. You wrap your legs around his waist, giggling when he slaps at your ass. “‘M gonna enjoy fucking you, taking out my frustration on you. Once I get my control, ‘m taking this sweet fucking pussy raw.”
The two of you reach his bedroom in the chateau, and he tosses you onto the bed, making you squeal and giggle uncontrollably. “Fuck me, JJ. Take your frustrations out on me. I can’t wait to feel all of you, so learn control fast.”
-
It’s been two weeks of you and JJ practicing his pulling out with a condom on. He’s finally ready, he finally gets pulled out perfectly, and you know he’s going to come to you soon about going raw.
“Baby, c’mon. I wanna taste you.”
You smile, taking a bite of the apple you’d grabbed out of the fruit bowl. “Mmm, I dunno baby. ‘M not really in the mood.” You joke.
JJ’s eyes narrow. He takes two long steps toward you, making you step back. Your back presses into the counter behind you, and his arms come to rest on the counter on either side of you, caging you in. He lifts his right hand, running it down the side of your face before he knocks your apple into the floor, making you gasp.
“I was eating that!”
He runs his hands down your sides, resting them on your hips. He tightly grips at your waist, lifting you and resting your ass on the countertop. “So? I wanna eat now. I’m starved baby.”
You suck in a sharp breath when his fingers find your exposed thighs, running them up slowly until they disappear under the soft fabric of your dress.
His fingers find your panties, running over the soaked material. “She’s already wet for me baby. Begging for my tongue and cock.”
Your hips buck off the counter, and a moan escapes your lips. He pulls your ass to the edge of the counter, and you place your hands behind you, supporting your weight and keeping yourself from falling.
He drops to a squatting position, tossing your legs over his shoulders and pushing your panties to the side. He runs his index finger through your arousal soaked core, gathering your arousal on his finger before removing it and bringing it to his lips, humming in approval. “Hmmm. So fuckin’ sweet, always baby. Like fucking honey.”
You moan loudly at the sound of his low and raspy voice, the dirty words making your pussy wetter.
“Shit! Stop teasing, J.”
He smirks, leaning his head forward and sinking his teeth into your inner thigh, making sure to leave marks. “J, please?” You beg, the feel of his tongue running over your inner thighs, licking over the fresh teeth marks, has you squirming.
“Such a needy little slut for me.”
He runs his tongue through your slick folds, slowly licking you from your entrance to your clit. Your entire body jerks when the tip of his tongue licks over your sensitive bud.
JJ’s tongue pushes inside your entrance, teasing you as he rubs lazy circles around your clit. He flattens his tongue, his head moving up and down as he devours your pussy. He pulls his head back, shoving two fingers inside you and sucking your clit into his mouth. He licks and sucks at your clit, fingers harshly pushing in and out of you until he has your entire body shaking.
“JJ-” you breathe out. “Fuck me, please”
He slows his fingers, letting your clit fall from his mouth with a pop. He removes your legs from his shoulders, standing to his full height and popping the button on his jeans, his zipper following quickly behind.
You stare down at his hard cock through your lashes, his right hand firmly gripping the base. He strokes himself softly a few times before he teases his head at your entrance. Your heart hammers in your chest, you’re about to feel all of him for the first time, and him feel all of you.
You let out a small whimper when he pushes his head inside. “Fuck, already feels s’much better baby girl, goddamn.”
He slowly sinks more of himself inside you, pushing each inch inside little by little until he fills you to the hilt. A loud moan is ripped from your chest when his swollen tip hits that spot inside you that has you seeing stars.
JJ doesn’t move, his eyes squeezed shut as he focuses on the feel of your warm, wet pussy wrapped around him. “Fuck, baby. This pussy feels even better than I imagined, so wet and warm, gripping my cock like she was made for me.”
He begins to slowly pull himself out, his eyes watching in awe at how tightly your pussy gripped him, a creamy ring already formed around his cock.
You whimper as he slowly pulls himself from inside you, missing the feel of his thick cock inside you once he fully pulls out. You open your mouth to beg him to put it back in, but he’s harshly slamming back into you before the words come out, making you cry out his name as his tip nudges against your g-spot.
“F-fuck.. JJ, you feel so fucking good, so b-big! Oh, my God.”
JJ’s hands grip your hips tightly, fingers digging into your soft, plump flesh as he brutally pounds himself into you. “Such a good fucking girl, taking my dick so well, look at how she grips my cock baby. All fuckin’ mine!” he grunts out breathlessly.
Your eyes wander down to where the two of you connect, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, pussy clenching around him tightly from how good it feels to finally feel all of him.
“J-JJ! Fuck, ‘m gonna… ‘M gonna cum! Go harder, please!” you beg, your hands finding his upper arms and gripping at them so hard you feel the skin break beneath your nails.
Your pleas for him to fuck you harder spur him on, his large hands gripping the underside of your ass and lifting you from the countertop. He stills himself inside you, steadying himself and making sure his hold on you is secure before he begins fucking up into you harder, faster.
The room is filled with the lewd squelching of your pussy, skin slapping against skin, and you and JJ’s moans mixing together. Your pussy tightens around him, a sweet tightness building in your lower belly as your orgasm nears. JJ can sense you’re close, his darkened over blue eyes finding yours, “Let go f’me baby. Make a fucking mess all over my cock, wanna feel you come undone around me.”
JJ’s words mixed with his harsh thrusts send you flying off the edge. Your pussy tightens, stars exploding behind your eyes as you come hard, soaking JJ’s cock and thighs. “Fuck! JJ, don’t stop, don’t… Don’t fucking stop!”
“‘M close, princess, gotta… Gotta pull out.” JJ says breathlessly.
You wrap your legs tightly around his waist, burying your face into his neck as your lips attack the skin with bites and kisses. “No! Don’t, don’t pull out, J. Just… Just keep going, shit!”
JJ’s mind goes foggy, hearing you beg him not to pull out was the hottest thing he’d ever heard, and honestly, he didn’t want to pull out, you felt too fucking good to stop. Sure, neither of you were thinking clearly, and he’d definitely have to find the money to buy you a plan B, but it was going to be worth it, to fill your pussy with his cum and watch it drip from your pussy.. Yeah, it was worth it.
His hips begin stuttering, his dick twitching as he thrusts himself up into you a few more times. He feels his dick swell inside you, twitching one final time before the hot ropes of his release spill inside you.
“Ffffuck, baby.” JJ groans, thrusting up one final time.
He sits you back onto the counter, slowly pulling himself from inside you and watching in awe as his thick, white cum leaks from your sensitive hole.
He grins, leaning forward and kissing your lips. “So beautiful when you’re dripping my cum.”
You let out a breathless giggle, your head falling forward as you whisper, “That was worth the wait.. We’re never going back to condoms, ever. ‘Kay?”
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jj taglist: @ivy-34 @thelomlisrafecameron @writingjjfics @always-reading @harrys-humble-housewife @maybankspov @immyowndefender @jjmaybankswifes-blog @lizcameron @moremaybank @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @thewitchesofart @unsaidjaelinrose @itsmytimetoodream @abbybarnesstuff @r1vrsefx @rafetopia @jade-is-jaded @lexasaurs634 @drewstarkeyslut @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess @superlegend216 @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @atorturedpoetx @maybankslover @cantstoptherecs @anqeliclust @ratatioulle @pradabambie @biggesthat3r @wearemadeofstardust0 @everydaydreamer @amournoir @romaescapes @tayrcse @andy-15-07 @rafescurtainbangz @joemama352
jj maybank masterlist | requests | taglist form
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dante-mightdie · 1 day
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brief thought on bimbo wife x genius soap, do you think he's protective 🥺 will go angry husband mode if anyone insults her intelligence
brrrrr smart man + pretty sweet wife combo
c/w: bimbo!reader, crying
oh absolutely! you’re the loveliest person he knows so he will not allow anyone to insult you. however, if the insult goes over your head, he won’t tell you. doesn’t wanna see you get all upset. he’ll handle the dickhead privately
and he can’t stand it when people try and take advantage of your naive and trusting nature! always with you when there’s tradesmen at the house because they always try and overcharge you :(
sometimes you get insecure, asking him if he finds you boring because you aren’t as smart as he is. he won’t allow you to feel this way about yourself, kisses away any tears and telling you how you’re his smart girl and dumb people don’t get such good deals when they go shopping!
if he was a dog, he’d be a pitbull. loving, gentle but protective over those they love. when you run to him, heels clicking against the floor and flinging yourself into his arms, sobbing that someone called you a mean name. after he’s done comforting you, he’s gonna have some very stern words with them >:(
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Looks like a group of guys from your college won’t leave you alone.
Oh would you look at that,
1940’s!MobBoss!Bucky Barnes
has got your back, and will continue to have your back forever.
(Also hi babes!!! 🤗🤗Thousand kisses from me to you! 💋💋)
Have Your Back Forever And Always » 40s Bucky Barnes
Pairings: Mob Boss!40s Bucky Barnes x Female Reader
Summary: Bucky steps in and saves you from the guys in your friend group who won’t leave you alone.
Warnings: Fluff, language, alcohol, smoking, unwanted touching, kissing, use of pet names
A/N: @amathslutsguidetofandom I love the thought of 1940s!Mob Boss!Bucky Barnes and decided to write it as a one shot🥰🩵
Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.
Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier
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“No thank you.” You say, politely turning down a drink from one of the guys you go to college with.
“C’mon, sweetheart. It’s just one drink.” Gerald says, wrapping his arm around your waist.
Bucky watched from the other side of the bar as you continued to politely turn the guys down, but they wouldn’t take no for an answer. He could tell how uncomfortable you were.
“It’s just a drink, Y/N.” Fred says, putting his hand on your thigh.
That made you even more uncomfortable than you already were. Bucky downed the rest of his drink and made his way towards you.
“She said no.” Bucky says, standing behind Gerald and Fred.
“No one asked you, man.” Fred says.
“Why don’t you run along?” Gerald says.
Bucky chuckled before grabbing the back of their necks and slamming their heads against the bar counter, making everyone in the bar go quiet and look at them. You quickly stood up and backed away with wide eyes.
“How about you two run along?” Bucky says.
They were too scared to say anything so they just nodded their heads. Bucky let go of them and they stood up. They were about to bolt out of the bar when Bucky grabbed the back of their shirts.
“If I ever and I mean ever see you two near her again, I won’t hesitate to kick your asses, got it?” He says.
“Got it.” They say in unison.
Bucky let go of them and they sprinted out of the bar. You stood there with a surprised look on your face. No one has never done that for you.
“Are you ok, ma’am?” Bucky asks softly.
“I am now. Thank you.” You say, giving him a smile.
“Can I buy you a drink?” He asks.
“I’d like to know your name first.” You say.
“James Barnes.” He held his hand out for you to shake. “Everyone I know calls me Bucky.” He says.
“Nice to meet you, James.” You shook his hand. “I’m Y/N.” You introduced yourself. “Now that we know each other’s names, I’ll accept that drink now.” You say with a smile.
You and Bucky took a seat at the bar counter and he ordered you two drinks.
“So tell me, doll face…” Bucky took a sip of his bourbon before asking his question. “What’s a pretty girl like you doing at a bar like this?” He asks.
“I go to the local college and I wanted to come here for a couple drinks after all the studying I’ve been doing lately.” You tell him.
“What are you studying?” He asks curiously.
“I want to be a nurse.” You say.
“That’s amazing. I hope all that studying pays off.” He says.
“I hope so too. I graduate next month.” You say.
You learned that Bucky is one of the most powerful men in Brooklyn, New York. You and Bucky spent the whole night talking and getting to know each other till the bar was about to close. He even offered to walk you home from the bar. Bucky being the gentleman he is, wrapped his arm around your waist to keep you close to him and to protect you.
“Thank you for saving me and for walking me home, James.” You say with a smile.
“You don’t have to thank me, babydoll. I have your back forever and always.” Bucky smiles. “If you don’t mind, I would like to see you again.” He says.
“I would absolutely love that.” You smiled. “I’m free tomorrow afternoon after school.” You say.
“Great so it’s a date.” He says.
Bucky cupped your cheeks and kissed you passionately. Your hands grasped his suit jacket to steady yourself. Your lips moved in sync with his. It felt like everything around you guys was in slow motion. Bucky pulled away slowly, looking deep in your eyes.
“See you tomorrow afternoon, doll.” Bucky says softly.
“See you tomorrow, Bucky.” You say, smiling widely.
🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵
-Bucky’s Doll
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netherfeildren · 3 days
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Notes On a Virtuous Affair
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Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader
Summary: One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude.
He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one.
Rating: Explicit 18+
Content Warnings: Post outbreak; Jackson Joel Miller; Dom/sub undertones; Rough Sex; Impact Play; Face Slapping; Spanking; PIV sex; Ass Play; Oral Sex (m!receiving); Come Eating; Throat Fucking; Unprotected Sex; Potentially Toxic Dynamics? (haha?); Complicated Feelings; They Love Each Other in Their Own Weird Way, Ok?; Older Man/Younger Woman; Idk What This Is, I Don't Expect You to Either;
A/N: miss you guys, sorry for the disappearing act <3
Word Count: 3.1K
Read on AO3
Notes On a Virtuous Affair
Sunlight spills over everything, and the pastoral green leads you to him. 
One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude. 
But there’s an incongruity afoot here that only you appreciate.
The secret lies in that there’s a riddle woven through the three miles you pilgrim to see him weekly. The first, a boon, the green lush wasteland, if a thing that’s alive can be wasted. The second, an honesty, I’ll venture this distance for him. The third, a precursor, when your muscles start to tingle, your thighs, hot and itchy, nape, coated in a taste of salt. Your feet crunch along the gravel and dirt, protected by the soft leathered boots inherited from Lucy who’d died last Monday. A good start to the week, with new boots, and a thoughtful gift she’d left you, your friend, when your own shoes were so worn from all the walking you do for him. The end of the world changes death, finds good things within it. 
The sun warms the bridge of your nose, and you tip your face up to the too-bright light, trying your hardest to look straight at the intensity of it. He’s very much like this too. Why would you look directly at the sun if not for the hurting it brings? Your palms splayed forward at your sides, the breeze moving through your fingers, and the world is all around you alive in this apocalypse. 
Jackson is left further and further behind as you move towards him, and what no one understands, not even Joel Miller himself, is that there is something virtuous about this affair.
-
“I’m gonna fuck your mouth now,” he says down at you, bare as the day you were born and kneeling before his clothed and towering height. Nothing but the heavy hanging length of his cock is naked for you, the first you’d ever seen in your whole life. If he had his way, the only one you’d ever see for the rest of it. The wide head is slick and glossy, the way it bobs obscenely from his open jeans looking like the weight of it would hurt, the way it juts from the bed of hair at this groin like a threat to you. 
You know now, after all his focused training, that it only hurts him when you don’t tend to it as he needs, that it’s only a threat when you fail to do the same. He’s shown you the rules of hurting, in all these months you’ve come your three promised miles to him time after time. Shown you how it comes easy, that of hurting someone you love. A running in place sort of thing. You know all the steps that will come, the exact spot you’ll tread in. The way to propel yourself forward to finally leave that same place, avoid it, if you want. 
“Open wider. Won’t fit like that,” he clicks his tongue, voice a burr as he grips his throbbing flesh and with the other too big hand, also like a seeming threat, but not, he gives you a quick, softly stinging slap to the high of your cheekbone. The sound, fast and snapping like his disapproving tongue. You swallow a moan, looking up at him with that look in your eyes you know disturbs him, adoration, letting the hinges of your jaw go loose, saliva pooling beneath the cover of your tongue. “Don’t you want me?” He asks. 
And you blink once, moan crossing the bridge to a laugh if your mouth wasn’t stretched wide as it’ll go. He sees it though, skipping water in your eyes and gives that half smile, the mean one, the one that says he has all the answers in the world, knows all the things there are to know, that one you like best. Good girl, and his voice makes no sound, only the shape of the words on his mouth. You haven’t been good enough yet to hear the real thing of them out loud. This tells you that you must apply yourself to the task at hand, making him come. 
One heavy tap to the flat of your tongue sticking out for him first, and then he’s slicking that fat head against the surface, giving you the first real taste, salt and musk trickle down the back of your throat and you moan again, eyes screwing shut tight, cunt aching something fierce. Leaking just like the tip of his cock leaks too. 
That’s the thing about this thing, the one you see very well and Joel still fails to. The two of you, as disparate as you might seem, are the same in all the basic but most important ways. Too much in common for him to look at in the eye comfortably and still do the things you do. 
“Open your throat. Get me hard.” In your head, he calls you baby. In reality, only sometimes, when you’re extra good, does that happen. But in your imagination, where it matters more, he doesn't ask nice, but you are his baby. 
He slides back, back, hits the end of your throat, pulls out against the wet heat of your tongue. You keep your jaw wide until you feel him harden entirely, until he stretches his neck back, tendons jumping stark, clench of his jaw fluttering with a choked groan. “Suck me,” your permission to savor him like you need to. 
Hands pressed firmly to your bare knees, not digging at your soft wet like you’d like, or pawing at him as you’d like even more, you close your lips around him, cheeks hollowed and suck hard, tonguing at his slit on the pull back so that he’s bearing his teeth at you in a growl and shoving forward again hard, a snarl as the cinch of your tight throat strangles the head of his cock on every one of your swallows. Your eyes water, but he pets softly at the same spot he’d stung earlier with his slap. 
A game you used to play with your siblings, who could slap one another harder until the other gave out. It’d taken a while for you to come to the realization, but eventually, you’d realized the memory of it in your mind as it exists now wasn’t innocent the way it should’ve been. That there had been something you’d liked about it in a strange way—that hurting. That the first time you’d asked Joel to play the same game with you, you’d wanted him to slap you other places just as hard until you gave out also. 
The games were part of the thing. His own strange rules, like the way you couldn’t touch him sometimes—you dig your bitten down nails into the soft skin of your inner thighs—only when he said it was okay was it allowed. The way you were never allowed to touch your cunt unless he said so also. He had weird things about him, turned strange by the dangerous ways of life. Like the solitude, the house out and away, the begging you had to do for him to have you. 
Sameness. 
He wraps his fist in your hair, more sting, “Gonna fill your belly with my come, yeah?” His thrusts pick up pace, pulling your head back as far as your neck allows so that he can fuck your throat in full, jaw hanging wide, and you’re just the wet and willing hole you know he sometimes wishes you could always stay as. 
The thick cock against your tongue throbs once, twice and then he’s spilling hot and heavy down your open throat, sweet salt against the back of your tongue while you try and breathe through his strangling, tears spilling.
When he pulls back, slipping wet and heavy from your mouth you fall forward onto your palms, breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, stinging with the forced will to remain obedient. Your spine burns beneath your skin and your sore jaw hangs unwillingly open, sloppy mouth dripping a string of semen between your splayed palms. 
He crouches before you, dripping cock like your mouth, milked to heavy softness hangs long and sated between his thighs. And he pets your crown, the vulnerable shell of your ear, whole body on fire so that every inch of skin hurts without his touch, hurts worse with it. 
“Good girl,” he says now with voice. 
-
The walk seems longer some days. A thousand miles plus an eon instead of merely three. Especially on the days you’re more desperate than usual. The ones when your stomach feels full of sugar for him and the memory taste of his cock is already aching in your molars. Those days your steps are hurried, look in your eyes frenzied to get to him, to escape the things you leave behind. A too full house, your sister’s squalling, teething baby, your little brothers, and too many mouths to feed and not attention to be had, not enough mother for everyone to get loved. 
There’s reasons for this game between the two of you, you’d had to come out and find your attention somewhere else. 
Your love too. 
And if it comes with a sting sometimes, well, so had your mother’s. You like it like this now. 
The first time he’d touched your cunt: show me that pretty pussy, baby, and he’d had you from that very first sweet word, you gonna let me finger it? You’d spread wide, leaked into the cup of his palm like a whore, you’d needed to make sure he was for keeping from the first try, you see. So you’d done all he’d said, taken four fingers and only cried a little bit but whined a lot. Been all, hurts, Joel, high pitched and dragging his name out on a puppy whimper. 
He’d given you that first lesson in hurt the very first time: Yeah? Supposed to. A real mean man. And then made you gush into that very cupped palm so that he could drink of your sweetness. 
He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one. 
The third mile comes to an end, the precursor, over, his house in view. It’s all quiet and slumbering and the long grass pulls you forward with its wind blown sway. The wide door to his shed is propped open, half finished rocking chair up on the workbench that sways with the intruding gust. The grass whispers behind you, the dark woods across the field moan, and he’s nowhere while the Tetons loom in the distance. 
You drag your fingers along the slats of his house as you pass, everything is so quiet, like he’d never been here. Like he’d gone and left you the way he’s promised he’d never do. Your belly feels bloated with heat, heart turned into four incongruous chambers that no longer beat in tune, memories of him rioting between each thump. Your cunt goes soft and drooling in your panties as your fear beats higher and higher, and you come to the mouth of the shed, peering into the cool darkness of this little place where he makes his beautiful things. The things that go into people’s homes to be used by people’s families to be stored in people’s memories.
The gleam of the sun does not cross the threshold, and you brace your palms on either side of the wide door, the air thrums and he’s not here—yet—you slide the toe of Lucy’s old boot across the border of sunlight into sanctuary and peek your closed-eyed face into the shade right before you’re taken bodily to the ground by his heavy weight. Palms catching splinters, his strong chest heaves into the line of your spine, strong arm at your waist to pull your breath from your lungs and your legs from under you. 
He forces you belly first to the ground, other hand circling your throat in the imitation of a strangle lest you lose yourself and decide to struggle for the first time ever. But you dig your fingernails into the dirt, scratching for purchase in preparation of what’s about to come, all the fight going out of you; body, half in shadow, half in sunlight. Your bones feel salt bleached. An over abundance of sodium in the blood that renders you catatonic for him.
He nuzzles soft at your nape while his hand shoves under your dress, ripping your underwear down your legs so that the elastic cuts into your tender skin to hurt. All incongruous movement, this man is. 
“Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to go creepin’ ‘round strange men’s homes?” His voice is so deep, drawled, broken up into different notes of lust and anger and temerity. All the strange things that make Joel Miller up. 
Yeah, you sigh into the dirt. “Told me exactly how it’d go for me if I did.”
You hitch your rump up then, presenting your cunt for fucking. The breeze doesn’t do half to soothe the throbbing wet. The sort of ache that’ll only be fixed by something heavy inside the hurting place. The sound of his belt quiets the disparate chambers, the beat in your ears of rushing blood is uniform now, there’ll be a wet spot in the shape of you in the dirt when he’s through. You lift your hips higher, knees scraped rough as you spread wider, face pressed to the ground and your fingers are well and burrowed in their little gouges now. 
He smacks the heft of it against you asshole, spits and presses a little. He likes to scare you sometimes. Nooo, Joel, all whining stutter, but with your back arching deeper like a little babied liar; you don’t mind where he puts it, only that he puts it somewhere.
“Hush,” he soothes all nice, spanks your ass once all not— “Gonna teach you a lesson.” And shoves inside, bumping against your womb on the first try, stretching your hole too wide, too quick. And there’s no prep, no qualm. No need to hesitate when you own a thing. You swallow your animal cry, ah ah ah, you want to hear how good you’ve been out loud. He grips your hips tight enough to bruise which is what you know he wants and fucks hard and fast, each swing whistles with ownership. 
He fucks you in the dirt like an animal, and this affair is virtuous. 
He teaches you the truth about hurting, about ownership, about so many things that only a man like Joel Miller could teach a girl like you. And all the while he tells you that you’re too pretty to take such an ugly fucking. 
The way he works your cunt, hungry, balls swinging wet so that they sting like his slaps, tip battering hard so that it aches like gratitude. 
These are the things three miles give you. A whole man to teach you about the whole world. 
The slick squelch of your overwhelmed cunt sounds loud, no more disparate heartbeat, no more green grassed whispers. Only the sound of his grunting above you like an animal remains. “You’re the perfect little cunt. You know that, baby?” There it is, you sigh. Start to tremble around him like that, like his good baby that you are, desperate flutters, little gash being fucked into obedience like you need. Your overwhelmed pants make little dirt dream clouds before your eyes as you start to come for him, crying his name, crying your love, crying that you’re so, so thankful. 
“Don’t stop, Joel. Not yet.” And he loves it when you beg, loves it when your cunt pulls tight like a knot.  
“Not yet,” he promises because he might be a real mean man, but he loves you like separating salt from blood.
Complicated and precise. 
When he’s through with you, there’s sunlight spilling over everything again. It’s journey goes on and on, and his semen drips from your cunt now. He turns gentle, thrusting still, making sure it’s fucked deep, pulsing in time with your own throb. Rhythms merge between the two of you. 
His rules are strange, his claims over you equally mysterious. He won’t say things out loud, won’t let you touch any real part of him, but his strange truths ring loud anyways, and when your heart isn’t disjointed, you hear him perfectly well. 
When he lays you out bare and trembling across his messy bed, the groaned pains of his age and rutting in the dirt like an animal sound from him as he drapes himself alongside you. Large and hairy, feet hanging off the end of the bed, entirely real with one knee propped up so that his thick cock lays heavy and soft over the swell of his belly. Your heart beats soft and overfull now. 
You watch the sun set across the planes of his chest and bask in the blue dark as the night draws breath around you. The work of meting out obedience to little girls who come searching for it is toiling, and you watch him melt into sleep, but right before he’s just gone away from you, with a single finger petting at the jut of the old broken bone in his shoulder, your whispered plea: Will you give me a falseness? You don’t call it a lie. This is a virtuous thing, after all.
Lies aren’t allowed in this house. 
He breathes a deep sigh, and you watch the fan of his long lashes sweep open, staring up at the shadowed rafters of his home. You swear you can see each and every individual whisker in his thick beard, dark and gray dispersed throughout. You see every single detail. 
He’d told you once there were ghosts here, in this house, and you’d learned later it wasn’t a lie. This became more and more obvious the more you got to know him. 
He stares up at them now. 
When he’d taken your virginity, when it’d left you the way you’d always imagined it would, covered in tears and blood and semen, you’d made that promise to each other. That you wouldn't lie, that he’d have all of you, that you’d not touch all of him. The ghost lay beside you in the damp bed of your lost innocence that day. It’d been just so ever since and over many miles of three you’d come to appreciate the realities of it. Who could be more connected than two people who always tell each other their truths exactly as they are?
“Give me a falseness,” you say again, not a lie. 
“A good kind of a bad kind?”
You flip a mind’s coin, wish you could see the exact ghosts he sees— “Bad.”
He turns to look at you, this half smile he wears is your second favorite one now, the honest one, and it’s all there for you to see. All the disparate chambers of Joel, just like your heart beating in your ears. You suppose the ghosts don’t matter then. 
“I don’t love you.”
And you nod solemn. Bad, like a whisper, like your game. 
You smile back, the one you know he likes best, the one that looks like his.
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hotpinkstars · 15 hours
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GIRL DAD OR BOY DAD? - sunday, boothill x reader
- or more clearly, to what gender would they want to have more, and general headcannons of them as papas ☺️
- brainrot brainrot brainrot BRAINROT AHHH... i love these guys and i can do a part 2 for others later but godd theres absolutely not enough dad stuff for these men (especially sunday... if there is its all yandere) so never fear novas here! ahem anyways enjoy
- warnings none! pure fluff!!! wc 711
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Sunday is so a girl and boy dad.
Reason why I say this is because he likely needs an heir to take over his position when he gets too old to do so, but he also wants a baby girl he can spoil as well.
Don’t worry! He loves both of his kids the same! They’re the greatest things that have probably ever happened to him and he cherishes them with his whole life. He thanks the stars above every single day for the opportunity he received to be a father to multiple beautiful children, and thanks you for granting him the chance. 
Dunno, but I could see this man wanting a handful of kids. He wants at least one girl and at least one boy, but I could see him shooting for 3-4. Will he be around to care for them? Not all the time, but he tries his hardest (and he definitely has the resources to care for that many).
Considering they’re half halovian and half human, they look pretty much just like their father! Some have your eyes, but they all have his hair. His hair and his gorgeous wings. They have your features though, such as your face, body type, etc.
His favorite part of the day is when he gets to collapse on your shared bed, his kiddos following behind him to cuddle their dad, and most of the time you all fall asleep together. Normally, you wake up just you and him because he’s good about putting them in their own bed once they fall asleep.
Once his kids get older, he’ll teach his son(s) combat and good form. He wants them to protect, and wants to raise them to be strong and independent. With his daughter(s), if they ask to be taught combat, then he won’t see much of an issue with it. He also wants to teach them independence, but in a more subtle form. 
Just expect that his children as teenagers are going to be the prettiest kids around holy shit. They’re obviously enrolled in a private school due to their fathers high status but they always come home and list the compliments they’ve received that day. Thankfully you two have raised them well enough for them to realize that it’ll be bad if all of these get to their head and stroke their ego too hard…
Supportive father asf! All I’ve gotta say here
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Don’t play Boothill is SO a girl dad hello have you met the man
He’s so excited when his little girl is born ahh he’s always dreamed of being a father to a girl and his dream has officially come true!!
Obviously, if you had a boy, he’d love him the same. He just wants children of his own tbh lol
His daughter knows western culture fresh out of the womb my friend. It’s like she was born for little cowboy boots and the cutest little cowboy hat. She’s even got a western name, he brought it up and you liked it, so the name you two settled on was Cassidy.
She has his hair! It’s absolutely gorgeous once it starts coming in- a pearly white color with little black streaks stemming from the roots. She has your eyes and your face, and his slimmer body type (before he was turned into a cyborg. This isn’t canon I actually have no clue what he looked like pre cyborgification lmao).
Oh lord, your daughter is so spoiled. On every mission he goes on he’s always bringing something back for her. It could be a super fancy necklace or even just a little trinket he picked up from a street vendor, but she has a whole shelf full of the things her daddy gives her.
She thinks it’s so cool he has a metal body. She asks about it alot but she’s really fascinated with it tbh. She likes to call it “daddy’s special feature!” and he always melts to that sentence gosh
He probably teaches his daughter how to use a gun when she gets older. He, similar to Sunday, wants his daughter to learn self defense tactics and learn how to fend for herself when necessary.
She totally has his accent. Change my mind period.
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lqveharrington · 3 days
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Handsome As Always | V.
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summary: After three years of dating, you and Vox decide to tie the knot. But what happens when Vox lets his fears consume him?
pairing: Vox x Lucifer’s Daughter!Reader
includes: MAJOR FLUFF, insecure Vox, over-protective Lucifer, Charlie being herself, Valentino being his usual self (that’s pretty much it, let me know if I’m missing anything!)
a/n: this can be read as a part two of ‘you look beautiful’ but can also be read individually!
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Ever since your father deemed it was all right to date Vox, you’ve watched your relationship grow in many ways. Vox gained upgrades to his technical self while you gained more recognition as the upcoming Queen of Hell. Your relationship became more well-known to the Pride Ring, and eventually, the news made its way down the other rings. However, there were things you believed never changed. Like Vox’s fears that were kept hidden from lowlife sinners and Overlords.
Vox feared a total of three things as an Overlord and as your loving boyfriend. He feared your father, rejection, and losing you from his life in Hell. And throughout your three-year relationship, you were able to witness each fear creep up behind him at least once.
But there were times you didn’t realize they were happening or being kept from you.
“You promise to watch over my little girl?” Lucifer handed Vox a velvet box, watching the Technology Overlord nod with fervor. “You better. If not, I swear I will not hesitate to wipe you out of existence with the snap of my finger, do you understand?”
“Yes, sir.” Vox tucked the box away into his suit pocket, flattening the new creases made. “I understand. I promise I will cherish your daughter until the day Hell freezes over.”
“Good.” He gave a harsh pat to the back of the Overlord’s back, earning an awkward chuckle from him. The two stood in silence for a hot minute, waiting for something else to happen before you walked in with Charlie trailing behind you.
“Dad, Charlie said she didn’t take the necklace but… Vox?” You give him a quizzical look, snapping your earring on. You and Charlie glanced at one another before you spoke again, smoothing out your skirt. “What are you doing here so early? I wasn’t expecting you to be here for another thirty minutes.” You squint when your father scoots away from where he originally stood. “Nonetheless seeing you with my father.”
Vox pulled you into his arms, squeezing your waist. “I just thought I could come earlier. I don’t mind waiting a little longer if you need more time, gorgeous.”
“Cheeky picture box.”
“I’m a flat screen. Upgraded, remember?” He teased, tilting his head at the way you grinned up at him. “You love me.”
“I do.” You let him lift your chin and press a kiss to your lips, smiling softly.
Lucifer coughed, “Won’t you look at the time? Sweetheart, you have to get ready for your date if you want to leave with Vox anytime soon.”
You separate with a grin etched on your face despite the eye roll you gave your father, gaining a chuckle from your partner. “I’ll be back soon.”
The second you left the foyer, Charlie was shooting questions toward Vox, bouncing on her heels at her sister’s soon-to-be fiancé. “Did my dad give you the ring? Are you excited? Gosh, my heart is pounding for you two! Do you know how you’ll propose? Who else knows that you’re proposing tonight?”
“Yes, more nervous than excited, mine is too, nope, and just you guys and Alastor,” Vox answered all her questions with a lopsided smile, fiddling with his fingers.
“Nervous? What for?” Charlie sat on her hands to prevent more movement. “It’s not like she’ll reject you after rejecting a million other guys. She actually loves you. Those other guys just asked her ‘cause she was royalty.”
“Charlie!” Lucifer glared in his daughter’s direction, earning a quiet squeak from her. “She won’t reject you, Vox. She truly loves you. She would never leave you.”
The father-daughter duo watched Vox glitch at the newfound information, both cursing themselves for making the sinner a mess. Vox was fine until Lucifer and Charlie began talking about your past experiences. The fear seeped into him as he felt his fans kick on, becoming a glitching mess by the time Lucifer was able to speak again.
“Okay, uh— I’m not sure how to fix this.” He rested his hands on his cane, looking back at the stairs and the sinner glitching in front of him. “Listen, uh, my daughter isn’t one to date someone for three years and just leave. She really does love you. I mean, she gives you these lovesick looks whenever she sees you!” Lucifer sighed when the thought of his little girl getting married appeared, a soft smile etching on his lips.
Charlie clasped her hands together in excitement, “And I’m sure she wouldn’t say no either. You two are perfect for each other…”
“What now?” You stick your head in between hers and your father’s, resting on Charlie’s shoulder.
“Come here, let me look at you.” Lucifer pulled his eldest to the front of him, eyes beaming with pride. “You look amazing, honey.”
“Thank you.” You do a full turn before you feel an arm pull your waist to a chest, warmth filling your own. “Hi, handsome.”
“Are you ready to go, my love?” He pressed a kiss to the back of your head, missing the way Charlie and Lucifer glanced at one another.
“Of course.” You spun in his arms, linking your hands together.
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You watched as Vox consistently dropped his fork, apologizing each time for the clattering noise. You purse your lips at his nth time for apologizing, the fork hitting against the table. Today was supposed to be a relaxing night for your anniversary, but something was bothering your other half. So in return, it bothered you.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” You set down your utensils and reach for his hand that wasn’t messing with the food on the plate. “You’ve been fidgeting since we left the manor.”
“Sorry, there’s just a lot going on in my mind.” He squeezes your hand and meets your eyes. His gaze relaxes within a second, giving you a soft grin. Vox sees it now, the look your father was talking about. He takes both your hands in his, “I love you.”
“I love you too, Vox.” You smile and rub his hand.
“I really do love you…” He feels himself heat up before clearing his throat, keeping his eyes locked with yours. “Gorgeous, these past three years with you have been unbelievably amazing. You’ve been this light sent from Heaven for me and I can’t thank you enough for being there for me. You make me feel like my fans constantly need to be on, and you’re always there for me even if you don’t want to be… I love you more than any words can describe it. So…” Vox kneeled on one knee and reached for the velvet box in his pocket, opening it to reveal the ring Lucifer used to propose to Lilith. Your name fell past his lips as tears fell down your face, “—Will you marry me?”
You let out a wet laugh, nodding at him. “Of course, I’ll marry you, you cheesy picture box.”
Vox slipped the ring on your fingers before pulling you up from your seat and lifting you to spin around with him. “I love you.”
You rest your hands on his chest as he stops spinning, “I love you so much more.” Your lips connected, the feeling of electricity stronger than ever between the two of you. “I’m never leaving your side.”
“No?” He held you close, hands clasping firmly around your waist. “I hoped you would never.”
“Never.” You press another kiss to his lips, messing with the ring on your finger. “Is this why you were talking to my dad?”
Vox nodded, eyes filled with love. “How else was I supposed to get parental consent to marry the eldest of the Morningstar family?”
“Oh, shut up.” You smile and kiss him, feeling his grin in the kiss.
When you got back from the restaurant, Charlie and Lucifer immediately zeroed in on your left hand. You flashed your hand toward them before getting tackled by a hug when they saw the engagement ring adorning your finger, noises of excitement coming from your family.
Lucifer shook Vox’s hand when he spotted the Overlord, “I told you she loves you.”
The next eight months were taken over by your wedding plans. From the venue to the flavor of cake, you and Vox were present for all decisions, making sure everything was up to both your tastes. However, Lucifer handled all the expenses and invitations, ensuring that his eldest had the best despite Vox being one of the richest Overlords in Hell. Charlie was with you when you picked out your wedding dress, assuring you that everything was beautiful.
It wasn’t until the day of the wedding that you and Vox became nervous. More so, Vox.
“You can’t tell me you’re too pussy to marry la princesa now, Voxy. It’s your wedding day.” Valentino blew smoke from where he stood in the dressing room, eyeing the television demon. “What are you even nervous about?”
“What if she realizes she can do so much better than me?” Vox drags his claws down his screen, pacing around the room. His dead heart rate picked up, the paper vows in his suit feeling heavy with each second. “I haven’t seen her since two days ago! She might’ve changed her mind—“
“Vox, I doubt your doll would change her mind about marrying you.” Valentino points his cigar at him, rolling his eyes when Vox glares in his direction at your nickname. “You’re rich, she loves you, you’ve got the wits and brains, she has beauty and power. I don’t get what’s wrong.”
“She’s more than just looks and status!” Vox adjusted his lapels, smoothing them out. “This is such a stupid tradition. Separating the groom and bride before the wedding? They can go to Hell.”
“They most likely are.”
Vox sucks in a breath, glancing at the time. “Fuck, okay. Where’s Alastor?”
“You think I would know where your best man is?” Valentino pushed off the dresser and made his way toward the door. “He’ll appear when he appears. Otherwise, have an amazing wedding. I’ll be seated with Vel.”
Vox let out a frustrated groan. He truly loves you, but the fear gnawing from the inside out was making this day so much more difficult than it needed to be. His eyes twitched as the clock ticked, not knowing where his best man was and how his soon-to-be wife was.
You, on the other hand, were also pacing your own dressing room, Charlie doing her best to calm you down before it was your turn to walk down the aisle.
“It’s going to be fine! You look amazing, the venue is perfect, and you don’t have to worry about safety, what’s left to scrutinize?”
“Does Vox love me?” You whip around and stare at your sister with a distraught look. “I mean, I love him. He’s wonderful, but what if he thinks I’m a pretentious royal who is just marrying him for fun just to leave?”
“That’s not what he’s thinking about.” She gripped your arms, slightly shaking you. “Right now, he’s waiting to marry the love of his life in death at the arbor. And we both know that you love him until double death.” You let out a small chuckle, resting your hands on your bouquet. “And as of now, I need to walk down the aisle as your maid of honor and then you need to walk down with Dad, okay?”
You nod, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I’ll see you up there, Charlie.”
“You look beautiful, don’t ruin it!” She exclaimed as she stepped out of the room.
You smiled as she left, then met your father’s eyes as he stepped inside the room. “Hi, dad.”
“Oh, baby, you look… You’re all grown up.” Lucifer gave you a small smile and hugged you, keeping his tears in until later. “You’re making me seem like an old man.”
“Dad.” You laugh against his shoulder.
“Are you ready, my little princess?” He reached up and cupped your face, gaze filled with joy. You link your arm with his, nodding. “Then let’s get you married.”
And it truly was gorgeous. Since it was a royal wedding, there were many people in attendance, but your attention was solely on Vox. Both your fears and Vox’s fears faded away when you met each other’s gaze, the admiration radiating off the contact. And you never broke eye contact with him, even when you met up at the altar. When Lucifer started officiating, you kept close by Vox’s side, doing your best not to kiss him right then and there.
“You look beautiful,” Vox murmured in your direction, making your smile wider.
You glanced over to meet his eyes, “Thank you… You look handsome as always.”
You both chuckled at your words, knowing you said those exact same words to one another when he first met your father. Soon enough, vows were completed with few tears, and rings were passed over, the only thing left was the pronouncement.
“By the power invested by me, I now pronounce you husband and wife.” Lucifer clasped his hands together, a golden, red, and blue wisp swirling around the newlywed couple. “You may now kiss your bride.”
Vox pulled you in by the waist, bringing his screen close to your face. “I’ve been waiting two days to do this again.”
“Let’s give them a show then.” You wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you back with a hand secure on your waist and meets your lips, the cheers from the audience making you smile into the kiss.
“Okay, kids. Break it up, I’m still here.” Lucifer coughed from where he stood, not making eye contact with his daughter. When you throw him a playful look, he smiles, finishing the ceremony. “It’s my honor and privilege to present to you for the first time Mr. and Mrs. Vox Morningstar!”
Vox raises his brow at you, “Your last name?”
“You don’t like yours, why not have mine?” You tease as you link your hand with his, walking down the aisle.
“I’ll have all of you if you want me.” He presses a kiss to your temple, the static from his lips gone. “I love you, beautiful.”
“I love you more, handsome.” You rest your head on his shoulder with the biggest grin adorning your face.
Yeah, his fears were irrational.
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©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms
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in1-nutshell · 2 days
Text
Bot Buddy being Rodimus's older sister and having a crush on Swerve
SFW, Platonic, Familial, Hinted Romance, Cybertronain reader
Buddy is a near carbon copy of Rodimus.
Key word ‘almost’.
Instead of sporting the red and oranges being her main color on her frame, Buddy has more blue tones with some yellow around.
That is where all similarities end.
Buddy being related to Ultra Magnus makes more sense than her being related to Rodimus.
“Hey Buddy! Watch this!”--Rodimus
Rodimus on the top of a tall shelf.
“Rodimus No!”—Buddy and Magnus
Buddy and Magnus look at each other in surprise.
“… I hate when you two do that.”--Rodimus
“Don’t care, get down here before you break something or hurt yourself.”--Buddy
“But—”--Rodimus
“Rodimus.”--Magnus
“…”--Rodimus
She was in fact close to him though.
Being a part of the Elite Guard for most of the war can do that.
The other part was stationed around communications and message relay for the Guard or the Wreckers.
That was where she first met Swerve.
It was purely by accident.
Swerve had been given the wrong number and connected her instead.
“Hello? How may I help you?”--Buddy
“You’re not Blurr. Who are you?”--Swerve
“You have the help line for the Wrecker’s and Elite Guard, do you require any assistance?”--Buddy
“Oh, no not really. I thought I had Blurr’s number. You know Blurr?”--Swerve
“Yes, I am familiar with the racer.”--Buddy
“Isn’t he the best! We were going to hatch a plan to build and run a bar when the war ended.”--Swerve
“Really? Blurr agreed to that?”--Buddy
“Absolutely! He even gave me his number, but I must have punched in the wrong digits and contacted you instead. Not that you haven’t been nice and all!”--Swerve
Buddy laughing a little bit.
“Its all right… umm… what is your designation?”--Buddy
“The names Swerve! And who might I be speaking with if you don’t mind?”--Swerve
“I’m Buddy—”--Buddy
“You’re THE Buddy!? Wow! This is just my day! I’ve heard so much about you and your work with the Elite Guard, The Wrecker’s…”--Swerve
Buddy gets a bit more comfortable on her end ready to continue this pleasant conversation with Swerve.
It was a slow day anyways… it felt nice.
That started a slow friendship between the two.
The chats had to happen on scheduled days since Swerve had a habit of talking too much and Buddy didn’t like to stop him.
Buddy refused to talk to Hot Rod about this.
Swerve was her friend.
Finally, someone that hadn’t been friends with Hot Rod before knowing her.
She was going to protect her friend’s identity as long as she could.
But of course, Hot Rod had a feeling his sister was hiding something from him and was going to get to the bottom of it.
Hot Rod dramatically draping his frame on Buddy’s berth.
“Why won’t you tell me!”—Hot Rod
Buddy rolling her optics.
“I’m not telling you squat Roddy.”--Buddy
Hot Rod suddenly sitting up.
“What if its… someone?”—Hot Rod
Buddy frame stiffens a bit.
“It is someone!”—Hot Rod
Hot Rod flopping on her back and starts popping her side annoyingly.
“Who’s the lucky bot who’s got my stuck up of a sister like this?”—Hot Rod
Buddy grabs his digit and slightly bends it backwards.
“Hey! OWW!”-Hot Rod
“Keep it up and I’ll bend more than your digit Hot Rod. Got that?”--Buddy
Buddy lets go of his digit and crosses her arms glaring at him.
“Fine, fine, I wont start talking about your secret—”—Hot Rod
Buddy judo flips her brother to the floor.
Hot Rod was over the moon hearing that there might be someone out there for his stuck-up sis.
Maybe it would help loosen her up.
Primus knows she needs to stop stressing so much.
Buddy just wishes that Hot Rod would drop the subject… but is secretly pleased to hear that he is happy that she found someone she likes.
…then came Rodimus Prime.
Buddy felt their sibling bond significantly weakened thanks to the matrix bonding.
Rodimus didn’t seem to notice but Buddy did.
But she refused to acknowledge it to him.
He was a Prime now, he had other things to worry about than her.
Just pushing through trying to get her work done.
Timeskip to the Lost Light…
Buddy was not aware that Swerve was on the ship until she got wind of the bar.
She walked in and zeroed in on the minibot.
Buddy walking over to the bar where Swerve had his back to her.
“Welcome to Swerve’s you see anything you like?”--Swerve
Buddy smiles a bit.
“Hmm… I don’t know you recommend anything Swerve?”--Buddy
Swerve stops cleaning the glass in his servo and turns around, wide eyed.
Buddy smiles a bit more seeing Swerve’s own face light up.
“Buddy!”--Swerve
Swerve reaches over the bar to hug his friend.
Several bots at the bar stop seeing the small bartender hugging one of the most strict bots on bourd.
“… 20 shanix that Buddy tells Swerve off.”--Skids
“Deal.”--Chromedome
“Domey--”--Rewind
“Wrong. 50 and she throws him out.”--Whirl
“She wouldn’t do that… right?”--Tailgate
Buddy hugs Swerve back while silent chaos ensues behind them.
So many bots thought that Swerve was going to die that day.
Rodimus had so many com pings within that hour.
He brushes the pings off like a rumor.
Especially when he hears about something potentially happening between Buddy and Swerve.
… That changes when Rodimus starts to notice Buddy hanging out more and more at Swerve’s.
This was the first flag to be raised.
Buddy doesn’t ‘do’ crowded bars.
But he brushes it off as Buddy finally letting loose.
Rodimus is talking with Drift when he notices Buddy at the bar.
“Isn’t it nice seeing Buddy happy?”--Drift
“Hmm? Yeah… but it’s a bit weird seeing her out here.”--Rodimus
Drift raises an optic.
“She doesn’t like big, crowded places, it’s ‘Too loud and too much engex being spilled all over’.”--Rodimus
Drift looking at Buddy happily talking with Swerve at the counter.
“Maybe she’s here for someone?”--Drift
Rodimus downing the rest of his drink laughing at the end.
“Ha! That’ll be the day.”--Rodimus
One time a rather rude bot had come to the bar and demanded to know why he was cut off from the drinks.
All while he was slowly tipping to the side.
Buddy tried to de-escalate the situation.
“Listen, we are all civilized bots here. Lets just get you back to your habsuite or the med bay if—”--Buddy
The bot looks at Buddy and spits in their face.
“Can it! Your nothing more of a has been-washout-guards-bot who is only good for a pretty paperweight!”—Random Bot
Buddy wipes the spit infused engex from her optics, glares at the bot harshly, about to unleash the Pits when she gets interrupted.
“HEY!”--Swerve
Swerve stands on the bar counter gaining some height, his servos shaking at his sides.
“Don’t you EVER talk to her like that! Now. Get. Out. Of. MY! BAR!”—Swerve
Buddy feels her spark skip a pulse looking at the mini bartender.
The bot tries to take a swing at him, but Buddy grabs the fist in her’s.
Buddy’s optics blazing in fury.
“You heard the minibot.”--Buddy
Buddy kicks the bot in the back of the knee and throws the frame across her shoulder.
Marching outside and kicking the bot several feet away from the entrance.
“Get. Out.”—Buddy
“… She gonna be my Amica.”--Whirl
“Whirl, not the time.”--Cyclonus
“Well, I can’t be her Conjunx. Swerve has that covered; this is the next best thing.”--Whirl
“Swerve does not—”--Tailgate
Whirl points at Swerve still standing on the counter with a lovesick smile on his face.
“…Maybe your right.”--Tailgate
“Tailgate, Whirl no.”--Cyclonus
“Hold on Cyclonus, they might have a point.”--Rewind
“Rewind—”--Chromedome
Cylcnous puts a servo on Chromedome’s shoulder shaking his helm.
Chromedome sighs giving in as Whirl, Tailgate, and Rewind scheming in silence.
Buddy managed to cuff the bot and send him to Magnus.
The bot never came back to Swerve’s.
Swerve has heart shaped optics behind his visor.
You’d have to be blind not to see his clear ‘admiration’ for the former member of the Elite Guard.
But he is convinced that all of this will pass.
It’s not like Buddy would actually have feelings for him.
Meanwhile Buddy has started creating Swerve/Love playlists in secret.
A secret that she is taking with her until she goes offline.
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affableidiot9 · 1 day
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Very h*rny headcanons on Genshin chars Prt 2
Tags: 18+ pleeeeease, reader gender not specified, (well, only in the end abt pregnancy)
Chars: Dr. Snek 🐍
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• Baizhu can’t take you rough. He just can’t. You need to assist him in that. In fact, he loves when you guide him, wrapping your legs around his waist and teasingly rubbing your crotch against his. You love seeing him lose control, but to get there you gotta put lots, lots of effort. Baizhu won’t take you roughly until he is filled with horniness to the brim. He needs to be extra hot in order to fulfill this naughty wish of yours. To help him out and encourage him, you might rub him from behind while he sits at his desk, or you might go to the length of sucking him beneath it. Baizhu is quite sensitive to oral, so if you want him to really punish you, start from making a mess out of him instead. You will get what you deserve.
• Doctor likes to be ridden. Missionary is his number one, but oh, archons— the way your hips grind against him drives him insane. He can experience dry orgasm just by you humping him, and both of you will be satisfied.
• He is very embarrassed by this little whim of his, however he likes when you hand him during work. He makes sure Qiqi doesn’t guess a thing. But the way you’d hide beneath his desk and “play” with his pantysnake brings him so much satisfaction that his face goes red. He will probably never let you know, but he dreams of being touched by you during his working hours even if it is so inappropriate. Well, rules are made to be broken.
• Unlike Pantalone who doesn’t trust anyone to the fullest, even his s/o, Baizhu is ready to shift control into your hands. He adores to be taken by you, cause he knows you will impress his ass. He will guide and comment but mostly what you’ll hear from him are soft sighs, quiet whimpers and lots of “…Yes, right there… you’re so good at this.”
• Sometimes Baizhu has an “evil” side and something about you makes him tick. Naturally, he is in for kinky stuff. He will quietly chuckle “…Let it be a secret, darling. Don’t ruin my masterpiece” while he is tying you up thoroughly. He goes to his cupboard and grabs a bottle of finest warming lube, to provide you with unforgettable 40 minutes fingering / handjob, edging and keeping you in place as you squirm and cream. And when you say “What about you? I want to please you too”, he will tell you he already had three dry orgasms but never showed you.
• Baizhu is a silent moaner but mostly because he doesn’t want Qiqi or herbalist Gui to witness your personal bed fights. Sometimes not sure if he enjoyed it you will ask him whether or not he is satisfied with whichever you were doing. He will caress your cheek in deep surprise and reply “Of course I did! How could I not?”
• He loves quickies. He is a busy man so quick fuck is a life-saver. But even a quick orgasm becomes very pleasurable in the hands of this pharmacist. He is just too good for this world.
• Aphrodisiac !? - Baizhu prefers to not use this, however moods are fluctuating. You don’t mind a bit and he is happy to serve. One day he was too exhausted and mistook the capacity, so it became so stimulating to him he freaked out seeing himself overflowing with come. You were delighted, though!You lost count how many times he shot that day. And it was one of rare moments when he was actually loud. The next morning after a very passionate long-lasting night, to tell the truth, both of you could barely feel your legs and Baizhu was so clumsy he couldn’t find his eyeglasses.
• Protection! Everywhere and always. Baizhu likes taking precautions and not only it is hygienic and cleaner, he doesn’t want you to worry over pregnancy. After both of you haven’t seen each other due to business at work and Baizhu certainly wanted to pump every last drop for you to see how he wanted you, you can witness used condoms all over the room as evidence of your longing.
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w2soneshots · 18 hours
Note
Can you make a oneshot that We alsow is a fotball girl and Harry and her Are filming a penelty video and he hits her in the head and she gets a nose bleed. And Harry gets scared and takes her to the hospital but she just need som kisses and cudels
You sure? -W2S
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Words: 0.6k+
Warnings: head injury, hospitals, protective harry.
In which Harry accidentally hurts you during a football video and won’t stop worrying.
a/n: hey babe🫶🏼 I’ve been super busy recently so haven’t really had the time (or energy) to write😫. Thank you for this cute request!! I hope you enjoy🤍 (also I know nothing about football so I apologise if anything is incorrect😭)
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Me and Harry have been together for almost 8 months. We both love football and he often comes on my channel. Today we're filming a video at our local football pitch.
"You almost ready to go babe?" He asked as I brushed my teeth. "Mhm" I murmured before spitting the toothpaste into the sink. "Let me just grab my bag." I rushed through our apartment to collect the last few things I needed for the video.
We left soon after and Harry drove us to the pitch. Once we arrived we grabbed all of the equipment out of the boot and carried it onto the grass. Then we set everything up and began filming. "Hey guys! Today we're filming a penalty video and Harry's going to be challenging my goal keeping skills so let's get started!" I began. Harry did his usual awkward "yes!" And I giggled.
I assumed my position in the goal and Harry began taking shots. After almost half an hour of switching back and forth between Harry and I it was my turn to be the goal keeper again. Everything went in slow motion, Harry took a shot and before I could even process what was happening the ball whacked me right in my face. I fell to the ground with a thud as my head started to spin and something wet began to drip from my nose.
"Oh my god! y/n I'm so sorry! Shit you're bleeding! Oh nelly." Harry rambled. "Haz I'm fine, just a bit shocked that's all." I calmly stated as he helped me up. "We should take you to the hospital." He stressed. I decided not to argue as I knew he wouldn't take no for an answer. He walked me back to the car then quickly grabbed the cameras along with all of our things. Then he drove us to the hospital.
"Looks like you have a minor concussion, doesn't seem to be anything you need to worry about just rest and take it easy for the next few days." The kind nurse said as I sat next to Harry in the small hospital room. "Are you sure she's gonna be ok?" Harry asked. She nodded "if you're worried about anything just call us up or come back here." She relayed. "Yes, thank you." I stood from the chair and Harry quickly followed.
I saw him carefully glancing at me on the drive home. "Harry. Seriously I'm fine. The nurse said there was absolutely nothing to worry about." "I know, I just feel bad for you know- hurting you." He replied, keeping his eyes on the road. I laughed "aw, you're such an empath."
When we got home Harry told me to sit down and so I did. After grabbing me some water and an ice pack he plonked himself next to me on the couch. I moved so my head was leaning on his chest. His hands gently raked through my hair and I slowly drifted off into a deep sleep.
The next morning I woke up in bed next to Harry, who was sat scrolling through his phone. "Morning." I whispered. His eyes shot towards me "ah, you're alive. How's your head?" He asked. I chuckled "my heads fine." My head hurt a little (which was to be expected since I'd had a football pounded into my face) but I wasn't going to mention it to Harry since he was so worried. "Good. We're definitely not filming any more football videos for a while." I pouted, putting on my best puppy dog eyes "but I don't want my channel to die." Harry chuckled "well I can compromise... maybe we can just do crossbar challenge or something." "Ok." I replied with a satisfied nod before moving closer toward him and pecking his lips. "Thanks for taking care of me Haz." He pulled me closer "you know I always will."
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chocor0se · 2 days
Text
excerpt from my reverse robins tim-centric au where tim dies and stephanie tries to kill the joker (it doesn’t work out)
Bruce couldn’t help it as he fell on his hands and knees, pain surging through his body. He needed to get to the Joker before he could recover, Tim would want him to focus on the mission.
He could barely move though, the paralyzation drug was still exiting his body. Bruce tried moving his hand so he could reach for his com and ask for backup(begrudgingly), when Spoiler came down from the previously broken skylight of the abandoned warehouse.
“Spoiler,” He said, voice raggedy, “What are you doing here? You’re not supposed to be here.” Steph didn’t answer, her eyes focused on the Joker’s body as he slowly raised himself up. Shit, Bruce had to get to the Joker fast.
Bruce willed himself to his feet as Steph stared down at the Joker’s smiling face, and that’s when he saw what was in her hand. A gun.
“Spoiler, what are you doing?” He was ignored, again.
Steph slowly lifted the gun, preparing to shoot. The Joker grinned,
“Well well well, looks like one of your little bats has a screw loose, just like me!” The Joker could barely move, he was still on his knees and yet he smiled like he was the one in control here. “Well, do it Spoiler. Shoot me.”
Stephanie’s gaze turned violent, “You..you killed him. You killed my best friend,”
The Joker laughed at her rage, “I honestly expected better than the fight he put off, I guess the little bat was never really good at flying was he?”
“Shut up, shut up!” Spoiler yelled at him, “You killed him, so I’m returning the favor!” She released the safety.
“Spoiler!”
Bruce watched helplessly, his body still-though he didn’t know if it was from the drug or the shock-as he saw Steph aim, and fire.
BANG
The shot echoed throughout the building like a crash of thunder. The Joker staggered as he touched the bullet wound, straight through his right thigh. Even from a distance Bruce saw Steph’s shaking hands.
“Ha! Hahahahahah! I guess even you don’t have the guts to do it, kid,” The Joker giggled, “But seriously, what a show! The way you were so determined to kill me, and you don’t even-“
Black Bat appeared behind him suddenly, knocking the Joker out and handcuffing him. Bruce let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
Cass walked up to Bruce, putting his arm over her shoulders to help him walk. He looked over to Spoiler, but she was gone.
The two bats looked at each other, then the Joker. The GCPD would take care of him, they had a bat to catch.
It took about an hour and a half, but they found her on a rooftop a few streets away. Barely anyone lived in the area, and even less worked there at night.
Steph was sitting on the ledge, her legs dangling over the roof. Her mask and hood were off, revealing the fragile girl underneath.
“Let me guess,” She said, as they had made their presence on the roof clear, “A lecture on why I have to keep the mask on at all times to protect my identity plus one about why we don’t kill?”
Bruce didn’t respond, he didn’t really know how to.
Cass did.
She walked up and sat on the ledge as well, pulling Steph in for a hug.
“Hugs make everyone feel better.”
“Not me.”
“…”
“..Maybe a little.”
Bruce walked closer to his two girls, placing a hand on Steph’s shoulder.
“I,” Steph started, “I wanted to kill him so bad. I was so ready to shoot him in the head, let him burn in hell. But Tim’s stupid voice kept ringing in my head,” She wiped her eyes with a broken smile on her face, “Bats don’t kill. Killing isn’t the right way to do things. He always followed the rules that he thought were right.”
Steph stood up, shrugging Cass away. She was trying not to cry, but tears kept spilling out of her eyes, “Why couldn’t I do it? He killed my best friend, I should’ve done it. I-I-“
Listen Bruce, I’m saying this because I’m dead now, so you won’t have me to help you with this. Please don’t close yourself off. People need you. Your…our family needs you. Don’t be the cold, emotionless Batman or the violent, angry one.
Be the one who took in Duke Thomas after his parents were jokerized, the one who took in Damian, and Steph and Cass and however more kids you’re gonna gain in the future. Please, Dad. I love you, meeting everyone was the best thing that ever happened to me. Goodbye.
Bruce took off his cowl, interrupting Steph’s sentence. And finally, he let himself cry with her. He saw Steph’s shock as the tears started dripping down his face. Tim’s death had broke him, but he would put himself back together for the ones that had broke alongside him.
He could see Steph’s walls break down, and she started bawling. Her face red as she screamed and cried and all Bruce could do was pull her in for a hug, and that was enough for now.
Cass joined them seconds later, her crying less violent but still noticeable. The three broken bats stayed like that for a while, just themselves and their tears accompanying them.
Later Steph would tell Bruce that she couldn’t be Spoiler anymore.
“I made Spoiler with him,” she would say, “And without him I don’t know if I could do it again. Don’t get me wrong though, I’ll still be a vigilante. Tim wouldn’t want me to quit because of him.”
“Then who will you be?” Bruce would ask her.
“…My favorite color’s purple, that’s why my costume’s purple. His favorite color was red.” She’d take a deep breath before continuing, “I’m going to become the Red Hood.”
Bruce would stay quiet a few seconds before replying, “Alright then. I will support you in whatever you need.”
And that’s how the Red Hood was born.
Far, far away, Timothy Drake-Wayne would kill his first person, and he would never be the same again.
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morphodae · 2 days
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Hello!! May I request something for black butler? Reader usually being quite non-confrontational and energetic but has a bit of a possessive streak. Not toxic level but sort of unintentionally intimidates people that flirts w/ their partner even when they know they’re taken like staring down at them from behind their partner or being passive-aggressive, and then just goes back to being their usual self once the other person’s left.
The characters being Claude, William Spears, and Lawrence Bluewer (you can replace him with Sebastian if you don’t write for Lawrence).
Tysm and sorry for the long request!! Feel free to delete if ever ^^
Protective Passion
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Sorry it took me a bit to get to this. I’m not entirely caught up with Lawrence and the Public School Arc but I did some research :) I hope you enjoy! Thank you for requesting 💜
Claude Faustus 🕷️
On the surface, Claude doesn’t seem to care much for your existence at all.
He’s a demon who knows he’s can take the form of a handsome man - which he has - and who could charm anyone he sees fit. Only, he usually does this in order to make a contract. When you came into his life, he surprised himself at how… endearing your qualities were to him.
As said before, he knows he has attractive looks and charm and it isn’t uncommon for people to try and flirt with him. It usually ends the same way: with his unblinking stare and some remark about business at hand; you don’t need to worry. He knows that he’s taken by you.
As a demon, he can be quite possessive; it’s a natural instinct for him. So when he sees you of all people becoming instinctually protective over your relationship with him, he feels an odd sense of pride well up into his chest and a small smirk cross his face.
You needn’t worry, dear. Claude has already claimed you as his long ago and no mortal, demon, angel, or otherworldly being is going to come in between that.
William Spears ⚔️
More likely than not, your relationship with him would have to remain secret and private. It took a long, long time for you to even worm your way into his heart. He’s supposed to remain impartial and adhere to all rules, after all.
On the rare occasion that he isn’t busy as a Grim Reaper, he does try to take you out on private outings. Usually, these “dates” consist of private, scenic spots around London or even an indoor date at your home.
If, by chance, an individual disturbs your outing with him and even flirts with him without taking the hint, and William sees you become protective, he will quickly take you elsewhere as though not to escalate the situation.
He’s flattered at the thought you’d felt the need to be possessive of him, but he’d rather avoid conflict of any sort. To him, he will tell you that no one else stands a chance with him. He, an avid rule follower, has already broken the code of impartiality by being with you, so there’s no need to doubt his unwavering affection for being with you.
Lawrence Bluewer 📚
Ah, yes, another avid rule-follower who values tradition in academic and personal settings.
Lawrence is definitely attractive in a booksmart sort of way, and his knowledge and stoicism might even be seen as attractive to others initially.
If a person doesn’t take the hint that you two are a couple while you are there, and you feel the need to make snide remarks and stand your ground, Lawrence won’t really know what to do.
After a moment, he will fix his glasses, clear his throat, and excuse himself and you from the person causing issues. Despite his best wishes, his cheeks are a faint shade of pink and he’s mentally berating himself to maintain composure.
He appreciates your devotion to him and is surprised that you seem so fiercely loyal, but he also would prefer if you follow proper etiquette in social situations. Don’t get him wrong, he adores all aspects of your personality, but he still does put traditions on a pedestal.
In the end, you receive a light scolding as his significant other and a light peck on the cheek before the two of you go about the rest of your day.
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gogobootz1 · 1 day
Text
The Mentor Pt. 7
Finnick Odair x Reader
Summary: Your Hunger Games strategy goes off the rails when a friend comes to you with a plan
Part 6
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“Look kid, this isn’t like last time, you’re not on a level playing field here.” 
Katniss crossed her arms as she leaned back into the couch of District Twelve’s Capitol penthouse. 
“These are Capitol darlings, lethal weapons, murderers one and all, gathered neatly together for an All Stars round. Of these stars, you are space dust. Recency may be on your side, but little else. They are older, stronger,” 
Peeta effectively interrupted, “Who are they?” 
“What?” Haymitch blinked. 
“Take us through them. Surely you can offer some insight, after knowing them all these years,” he shrugged. 
“I’ll ignore the fact you just called me old,” the older man walked off to grab the tablet that controlled the TV. District by district, he took his tributes through their competition. 
When he got to District Four, Katniss beat him to it, “Finnick O’Dair, right?” 
“Yes,” Haymitch confirmed, “he won his games at fourteen. Youngest ever. Extremely humble.” The image of the tall, bronzed man sauntering across their screen seemed to disagree. 
“You’re kidding,” she deadpanned. 
“Yes! I’m kidding,” Haymitch snapped. “He’s a,” he dramatically moved his hair, “peacock. A total preener. But he’s the Capitol Darling, they love him here. Charming, smart, and very skilled at combat. Especially in water.” 
“What about weaknesses?” Peeta leaned forward. 
“One,” Haymitch confirmed, “Mags. She was his mentor and basically raised him. If he’s trying to protect her in any way it exposes him.” 
“A guy like that has to know she’s not gonna make it. I bet when it really comes down to it he won’t protect her,” Katniss shrugged. 
“Well, Katniss,” Haymitch said, “I just hope when she goes she goes quickly. She’s actually a wonderful lady.” 
Katniss blinked guiltily at his statement, and Peeta leaned back into the couch. 
“But if he does ally with her it’ll make him less of a threat,” Peeta offered. 
Haymitch let out a sour little laugh, “Oh, we’ll get to his allies.” 
Peeta winced when Haymitch later marked the intimidating young woman from District Seven as one, and was surprised at the lack of others. 
By the time he got to Ten, Katniss was antsy, “Can we wrap this up?” 
“Sure if you want to ignore a huge fucking threat,” Haymitch shrugged. 
“It looks like a strong gust of wind would blow him over,” Katniss complained. 
“Not him,” her mentor snapped, clicking forward, “Darla Kennedy.” 
Their attention went back to the screen when another young woman appeared, stepping forward and giving an assured nod to the cameras. 
“Darla is young, well connected, and deadly with a whip,” Haymitch began. 
“Who’s that behind her?” Peeta interrupted, noticing the woman peace keepers were escorting off stage.  
“Well, since you mentioned it,” he rewinded the feed to when the young women were standing next to each other. “That,” he pointed to the one they weren’t familiar with, “is Darla’s mentor. One of the most popular tributes to ever come out of the games, and maybe the best mentor I’ve ever met.” 
“How do you mean?” Peeta pressed.
“She saved Darla’s life about four times during her games with just wit and a warm smile,” he shrugged, “if she wanted a sponsor there’d be twenty knocking down her door. Kid’s a magnet, and a brilliant strategist. Not to mention, a great drinking buddy,” Haymitch finished. 
“Not helpful,” Katniss griped, and the man rolled his eyes. 
“Point is, if you don’t think she’s calling on every favor she’s owed and pulling every string in her arsenal to save that girl, you’re dead wrong. Darla’s practically all she has left,” Haymitch elaborated, “but both Ten ladies are good friends with Finnick.” 
“Finnick?” Peeta asked, surprised. 
“Not that he’d need the help with sponsors,” Haymitch shrugged, “but no doubt it’ll be a scary alliance. One you might consider joining.” 
“No way,” Katniss scoffed. 
“Like I said, I’m friends with their mentor, I could hook you up,” he doubled down. 
“Not interested,” she grunted. 
“Look,” Haymitch sat on the coffee table across from them, “you’re starting at a disadvantage. Most of these people have been friends for years.” 
“That just puts us higher on their kill list,” Katniss snapped, crossing her arms. 
“Do it your own way,” Haymitch shrugged, “but I know these people. You go it alone, their first move is gonna be to hunt you down. Both of you.” He left the room before his words even sank in. 
————————————
Your fingers twitched while you waited for Darla to wake up. Sometimes you cursed yourself for being an early bird, but after your games you couldn’t help but get up with the sun. Some lasting self-preservation instinct had always been your theory. You had a plan for her, not that she’d like it. 
Shuffling from the hall caught your attention, and you perked up to see her walking toward the breakfast table half-awake. 
“Morning,” you said, quickly. She just grunted as she poured herself some coffee. “I want to run something by you.” 
She took a sip of coffee, placing pastries from the breakfast spread onto her plate. When she realized you weren’t still talking she looked up, and gestured for you to go on. 
“I want you and Finnick working together,” you started. 
Darla interrupted, mouth full of croissant, “Obviously, that was just a given.” 
You clenched your jaw a bit, but barreled on, “and I want the two of you working with Johanna and-“ 
“No!” She cut you off, nostrils flared. “That’s a recipe for disaster, and you know it.” 
“It’s the best plan I’ve got,” you fired back, “the Capitol knows the two of you were together. They’ll eat your dynamic right up, and keep you alive long enough for you to keep making good television.”
She looked indignant, but you doubled down, “Johanna is a strong fighter, and with Finnick distracted protecting Mags you’ll need to beef up your alliance. If Blight comes with her, the five of you can square off evenly against the careers.” 
“We’re sure Finnick won’t want to join the pack?” Darla raised a brow, and you blinked at her in surprise. 
“You really think he’d do that?” You asked, voice light. Would he? You were so certain of his character you hadn’t even considered the possibility. But the games always changed things- changed people. When she made a face at you, you shook it off, “You know he loves Mags, he wouldn’t just leave her. And the careers are too pragmatic to take on someone they see as dead weight.” 
“Good thing I’m not pragmatic, then,” Darla said wryly, taking a bite of a fruit tart. 
Pragmatic, no. Entertaining, yes. Watching Finnick care for Mags would melt hearts across the nation, and they wouldn’t be able to turn the cameras away from two bickering exes. Putting on a show was the first step to a one way ticket out of the arena. You just didn’t want to think about which one of your friends would be the one to take it.
Your strategy started as soon as the train pulled into the station. Walking onto the platform with an arm over Darla’s shoulder, and big smiles on both of your faces. If there was ever a time to appeal to the audience it was now. Normally you’d shy away from questions, but with a few cameras you were eager to assert your tribute early. 
“We’re always happy to visit the Capitol! You all make us feel so welcome here!” Darla assured a reporter. So she had taken your strategy briefing to heart.
“While we wish we could be seeing you under better circumstances,” you jumped in, “we’re certainly going to make the most of our time here. You might just get sick of seeing us!” You laughed with the reporter, touching her wrist lightly. 
From there you were off to the races, starting a campaign of phone calls in the car. Scheduling an appearance on daytime TV to talk up Darla, conversing with the connections you’d made over the years, and making appointments for drinks or coffee occupied your afternoon. 
Darla took the time to settle in to the space, flicking through magazines on the couch as you talked your throat dry. After hanging up on another Capitolite, you scratched some more notes on the meticulous schedule you’d started. 
“Time for a break?” Darla asked from the other room after a minute of silence.  
“Time for a drink,” you complained, but caught a glimpse of the time. “Shit!” 
“What?” She asked as you ran to the room you’d stayed in during your annual visits. 
“I’m meeting Mrs. Montgomery for dinner!” You shouted back. 
“Who?” 
Within ten minutes you stumbled back out in a short, but stylish cocktail dress. 
“How do I look?” You asked, shoving your feet into a small pair of heels as you smeared lipgloss on your mouth. 
“Stellar,” Darla assured you, not bothering to look up from her magazine. 
You were busy clipping your hair up, assessing your appearance in the microwave’s reflection. “Really?” You fretted, finally turning toward her. 
“Absolutely!” She said enthusiastically, still not looking up. 
Your shoulders dropped, “Fuck off!” Grabbing your purse, you headed for the door. 
“Love you too! Thanks for all you do for-“ 
The slamming door cut her off, and she snickered. 
Mrs. Montgomery was over the moon that’d you’d asked her out to dinner, and recommended her favorite spot in the city. Luckily it was only a few blocks away, and with some extra incentive your driver floored it. You walked into her embrace right on time, and successfully reminded her of how much she adored you for an hour.  
Long ago you had learned just how much Capitolites liked to talk about themselves, and you used it to your advantage more often than not. Questions like, “How are your students? I so regret I haven’t been able to visit recently!” Were unbelievably well received, and further endeared you to the very wealthy woman who sat across the table. 
Finally, she came to address the elephant in the room, “I’m sure it’s hard for you to be here under these circumstances.” 
You nodded, “It is. This is my home away from home, but I can’t help but worry for Darla.” She nodded sympathetically, you had her hooked, but it was time to reel her in, “She’s so so capable, and I know she’ll go far, but I need her to come home.” 
Mrs. Montgomery reached across the table for your hand, “We’ll be happy to sponsor Darla.” She spoke on behalf of herself and her ultra-rich husband, who you’d have the displeasure of meeting as a client. 
“It would mean so much to me to have yours and Mr. Montgomery’s support. Please tell him I asked after him, by the way,” you squeezed her hand gently. You might come to regret it later, but what was the point of being forced to have a roster if you couldn’t put them to good use. The man was richer than God, and had requested your company on multiple occasions. An appeal to his wife and to him, though indirectly, would go far. You could face any consequences later. 
You paid for dinner yourself, though Mrs. Montgomery did protest, earning even more points towards your cause. A warm goodbye hug marked your departure, and soon enough you were B-Lining to the hotel bar in the lobby of the training center. 
—————
“If it isn’t my favorite District Twelve victor,” an airy voice pulled Haymitch’s attention from the glass of bourbon he’d been swirling. Pleasantly surprised to see you, he turned the futuristic stool next to him in your direction. 
“Well, have a seat, your highness,” he invited, and you settled in at the bar. “What are you drinking?” 
“Surprise me,” you set your purse on the counter. He slid you his untouched glass of bourbon. “Lazy,” you complained, before taking a sip. 
“You’re just the gal I’ve been wanting to see,” a small smile spread across his thin lips and raised alarm bells in your mind. 
“Why’s that?” You asked cautiously. 
“Let’s go for a walk,” he stood from his chair, but you shook your head. 
“Let’s not,” you weren’t aiming to be associated with Twelve right now. If Capitolites saw the two of you on the street and got to talking, it could be bad for business. Katniss and Peeta made for a good show, but with your finger on the pulse of the Capitol, you could tell when Snow was displeased. That wasn’t an obstacle you currently needed in your way. 
Haymitch put his hands up in surrender, “Then I’ll mix you something better.” He winded around to the other side of the bar. Stopping in front of you, he snatched the glass of bourbon back and polished it off. Where the bartender had run off to, you couldn’t say. 
“What do you want?” 
“Your ear,” he crushed some mint at the bottom of a new glass. “I just don’t want you to waste your efforts.” 
Your brow furrowed, he was crazier than you thought if he was asking you to back off, “I spend my energy carefully, thank you.” 
“Then spend it on this,” he plopped a mojito in front of you, “your girl makes it out and so does mine.” 
You raised a brow, inspecting both him and your drink, “You know that can’t happen.”  
“If you pretend we’re flirting while I lean in to tell you the plan it can,” you blinked for a second before meeting him halfway. 
“A transport is coming from District Thirteen to pick up Katniss and anyone aiding her from the arena. They want her for the rebellion,” Haymitch breathed into your ear. Pretending you hadn’t just heard literal whispers of treason involving a long-dead district was difficult, but you managed to swallow your shock. 
“When?” If true, this would change everything. Your moves would need to incorporate Katniss and Peeta, your endgame would be totally different. But first you had to determine the chances of this going wrong. 
“I don’t know yet,” Haymitch whispered. 
“Give me something here,” you pleaded, “I can’t work with nothing. How could I trust a pretty promise?” 
“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” he warned, and you angled your head enough so he could see your glare. “You know very well I’m too chicken to take anything less than a sure bet.” 
“You’re awful at gambling, and you’re a reckless old drunk,” you snarked quietly back, this wasn’t a risk you could take lightly. 
“I’m telling you this because I need your help, and Darla’s, and Finnick’s, and Johanna’s,” he went on, but you cut him off. 
“You’re assembling a team of political defectors?” 
Haymitch’s nostrils flared, but went on before you could protest further, “We need to keep Katniss alive until Plutarch can get her and her allies out of that arena.” 
“Plutarch?” That caught you off guard, and you reeled back. Your volume clearly bothered him, though the bar was empty. Haymitch clapped a hand over your mouth. 
“Yes,” he confirmed quietly, scanning the room, “though this is all meant to be secret!” 
You smacked his hand away, “Then what is my part in your lovely little treason plot?” 
“You need to recruit the others,” Haymitch nodded. 
“Excuse me?!” 
“Well, as helpful as you’ll be pulling strings from behind the scenes, Katniss needs allies in the arena,” he said. 
“You really think they’d commit treason because I asked nicely?” You were skeptical. 
“Yes,” he nodded, and you gaped. 
Shaking it off, you kept pushing, “What makes you think they’ll work with her? What makes you think she’ll work with them?” 
“She doesn’t know about this,” he said sharply, “and she can’t. All they have to do is not kill her, and eliminate those tributes who might.” 
“The careers, then,” you tilted your chin up. 
“Bingo.” 
You took a sip of the now slightly watered mojito, “So what does she know?”
“What you did when you won,” he offered, “shoot to kill, play to win.” 
“Will she take any allies?” You asked, taking a deep breath, “You know that’d make things easier.” 
“I’m working on it,” he shook his head. 
“Yeah, that’s a no,” you huffed a laugh, astounded by the turn of events. Never in a million years would you have seen this coming. You knew Katniss had stirred something up, but had not foreseen a full fledged rebellion on the immediate horizon. 
“She needs time,” Haymitch insisted, “Peeta will help her see the logic behind strong allies.” 
“And how much does he know?” You set your glass down with a clink. Haymitch just shook his head. Sighing, you barreled on, “I don’t like this, you know?” 
“I know,” he nodded, eyes clear and serious. You weren’t sure you’d seen him quite like this before. “But you’ll do it. You don’t want to have to choose between Finnick and Darla.” 
Tightening your grasp around the glass, you ran your tongue across your teeth. Fuck if he didn’t have you pinned. If there was even a slight chance you could save them both, you’d take it. Just when Haymitch had realized how deep your affection for Finnick ran, you had no clue. Suddenly, you hoped you weren’t a chatty drunk. 
“Your lives will all be better for it,” Haymitch said, “we’ll all be free.” You met his gaze head on, and were surprised to find hope lying in them. 
“I’ll talk to D tonight,” you nodded once, “and I’ll get to Fin and Jo.” Haymitch’s shoulders sagged with something like relief. When you clocked Peeta walking in from the other side of the room, you knew it was time to wrap things up. You leaned in close, again. 
“But don’t think I’m doing all your dirty work, Old Man,” you said lowly, with a coy grin, “I’m sending them your way!” You planted a quick kiss on his cheek, leaving behind a lip stick print. Quickly grabbing your purse, you sprung off your stool. 
With some manufactured pep in your step, you walked towards the blond boy. “Don’t let him fix you a drink, Peeta,” you said, conversationally, “for a drunk, he’s piss poor at it!” The last part was directed at your old pal, who’d now placed the lot of you in a precarious spot. 
“I missed you too, Sugar!” He yelled back, wide grin on his face as you sauntered toward the elevator. 
Peeta looked at him, amused, but skeptical, “What’d she want?” 
“A piece of this!” Haymitch gestured dramatically toward himself, and picked up the glass you’d left behind. Polishing it off, he choked a little at the taste. You’d been right, of course, he was a little rusty at bartending. 
——————————
You tugged at the shoulder of Darla’s tribute outfit. When you’d suggested leather to the stylist, this wasn’t what you’d meant. Skin tight, black patent leather reflected sunlight into your eyes. You let your hand come to your brow as you shook your head. 
“What?”
You raised a brow at the stylist, one of Darla’s.  
“What’s wrong with it?” 
“You don’t think it leans a little… kinky?” You shrugged, frustrated. 
“Well, you said leather,” the stylist defended themself. 
“And you took that as BDSM?” 
Darla threw her hands up in the air at your comment, tired of being examined, and wandered off. 
You sent the stylist away before they could argue any further. This parade was already a mess. Your plans to put Darla on horseback, to harken back to her first parade, were ruined by Darby’s apparent inability to ride a horse. There was no way you could put her on horseback if those poor creatures were pulling a cart as well. You pet one of the horses that would be pulling the Ten tributes, and the action calmed you a bit. Only, your peace was disturbed when you saw Finnick putting the moves on Katniss. 
Of the ways to piss off the standoffish girl you’d been charged with helping protect, he had to pick this one. It took about ten seconds for you to march over and fix it. 
“I’m sorry you had to cancel your wedding. I know how devastating that must be for you,” you overheard. His voice oozed with sarcasm and you rolled your eyes. 
“Is this strange man bothering you, Katniss?” You didn’t wait for a response before dragging him off by his ear. 
“Hey, now,” he complained, but kept at your side. “Peeta,” Finnick tried for a dignified nod as you passed him, but came up short. 
“Finnick,” he nodded back, gaze turning to you. 
“Bye, Peeta!” You waved with your free hand. 
“See ‘ya, Sugar,” he waved back, kindly. 
Finnick planted his feet, freeing himself in an instant, “Sugar?!” He stood to his full height and shot the Twelve tribute a sour look. You rolled your eyes and started dragging him by the wrist instead. While you were going to correct Peeta, you no longer saw a point. 
“Sugar?” Katniss questioned too, a skeptical look on her face. 
“Is that not her name?” Peeta was confused. “That’s what Haymitch called- oh,” he seemed to have answered his own question, and Katniss let out a small laugh. 
“What was that?” You asked Finnick, when you’d finally pulled him to a secluded area. 
“What? I was just being nice,” he defended himself, about to pop a sugar cube in his mouth. You plucked it from his hand and tossed it over you shoulder. Finnick blinked. 
“So I was trying to sus her out,” he shrugged, “big deal. If the Capitol finds out their romance is a lie, their support goes up in flames… like her little dresses.” 
You rolled your eyes. If you were still playing to win, you would’ve liked his angle, but as it was, you had to steer the ship back on course. “Play nice with her, would you? I’m working on something.” 
“You’re working on something that includes the girl on fire?” 
You grabbed his wrist, “Keep it quiet and come find me later. Find Haymitch too!” Sensing the parade was about to start, you turned to go. 
“Some greeting,” he complained, moodily. You stopped in your tracks, and turned again to face him. 
“Did I forget to say hi to you and your abs and your skirt?” You asked facetiously.
“You did” he nodded, “we were offended.” Rolling your eyes amusedly, you stepped up close to him. 
“Hello Finnick,” you said, meeting his gaze. “Hi Finnick’s abs,” your gaze moved down as you went, “hi Finnick’s skirt.” You couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips as you looked back up at him. “Happy?” You asked. 
“Very,” he nodded, soundly. 
“Good,” you nodded back. 
 “I missed that smile.” He said lowly, leaning in a bit. You were really fighting against your grin, now.
“It missed you too,” you said, refusing to make eye contact. 
“Really?” His eyes sparkled as he looked down at you. 
“Don’t you have a populous to charm?” You tilted your head.
“I’ve got a you to charm, first,” he blinked, innocently. When he reached out to tug on a strand of your hair, you’d had enough. 
You lightly swatted his hands away and skittered back, “Go! … Do your parade prep,” you sputtered. 
Finnick tried to conceal his laughter at your reaction. He just loved to see you flustered. “If you insist,” he bowed his head and began to trot off. But he couldn’t resist throwing a melodic goodbye over his shoulder and taking one last glance to see you hurry off. 
————————————
Finnick wouldn’t see you again until later, though he did try. He eventually found you at a party that night, a young Capitol socialite you were both familiar with was throwing a celebration in honor of the games. 
When he saw Darla tearing up the dance floor, he had no doubt that you were behind the appearance, and started scanning the rooms in the penthouse. Finally, he found you hidden away in a quiet spot, typing away on a tablet. 
Hard at work securing sponsors, no doubt. If he was lucky, he’d be reaping the rewards of Darla’s 101 sponsor gifts. Maybe you’d even deign to send him a little something. He called your name to pull you from your work. 
You looked up from your tablet, curiously. His hand tensed. When did you start wearing glasses? How did they make you look even more- 
“Finnick?” You arched a brow. 
“Yup?” He said, shoving both hands in his pockets. 
You blinked at him from your spot on a couch, “Spaced out there for a second?” 
“Yup,” he nodded. You rose to meet him when you noticed he wasn’t moving to sit beside you. He watched the slinky black dress graze your thighs as you walked. 
“Are you alright?” 
“Yup,” he said, a little breathy. 
“Okay,” you said, skeptically, “So in terms of-“ 
“Sorry,” he interrupted, swallowing, “when did you start wearing glasses?” 
“What?” You asked, not quite following his train of thought. 
He inched closer and adjusted the frames on your nose as you blinked up at him, “When did this become a thing?” 
“I-“ you floundered. Was he blushing? 
“Okay, lovebirds,” Johanna breezed into the room. You jolted and Finnick snatched his hands away from your face in surprise. “Wrap it up, I want to hear this brilliant plan of yours.” 
She directed the last part towards you. You had found her earlier and told her essentially the same thing you’d said to Finnick. Johanna was surly, sure, but had a soft spot for you. She’d won the year after Darla, and you eventually took her under your wing as well. Not in time to warn her to take Snow’s threats seriously, but soon enough to comfort her before she could spiral too badly. 
You tried to shake off the confusing last few moments, “Alright, well, marketing it as my plan was maybe a little disingenuous.” They both seemed confused at your words. “But if it’s the plan I think it is it’s a plan I can get behind,” you rushed out
“Are we throwing a surprise party? What the hell are you talking about?” Johanna asked. 
“Look, I,” you did a quick glance around the room, and motioned for them to follow you. They both did, but it only further soured Johanna’s mood. When you found a private enough corner, you told them what Haymitch had told you. 
“So what? We have to protect pretty little princess for a free ticket out of here?” Johanna spat.
“Basically,” you nodded. Looking over at Finnick, you tried to gauge his reaction. He hadn’t said anything, and still seemed deep in thought.
You knew neither of your friends were fond of the Capitol. They had both lost more than they’d care to admit to these people, but you couldn’t begrudge them for trying to think this through. You’d spent a few hours doing the same before you brought it to Darla last night, and she had to sleep on it. 
“Look,” you tried again, “the reality is, she probably won’t ally with you. I still think the smartest thing to do would be to bring both your district partners and Darla into an alliance of five. If you can manage to knock out some threats to her, you can bide your time until the free plane ride.” 
They both seemed to relax a bit at that, but there was still some hesitance. “You really think throwing Darla and I together is a smart move?” Johanna asked smartly. 
“I don’t take this lightly,” you said with an air of scolding, “I’m trying to keep you safe. Right now, the only way I know how is asking you to watch each others backs in the arena while I watch yours from here. Can you trust me to do that?” 
“Yes,” Finnick chimed in seriously, speaking for the first time in minutes. 
Johanna was silent for only a few seconds longer, “Yes. But don’t expect me to be nice to her.” 
You weren’t quite sure if she was talking about Katniss or Darla, but either way it didn’t surprise you. You only shrugged at her before she walked away. 
“So,” you turned casually back to Finnick, “where were we?” You gave him a quick once over, and he seemed to tense up. 
“I think I might turn in,” he nodded quickly, brow furrowed. When you titled your head and shot him a confused glance he barreled on, laughing awkwardly, “Big day tomorrow, super tired, goodnight!” He took smell steps backward with every word before practically bolting. 
He breezed past Darla, face a little flushed. She smirked a little at his quick pace, and shook her head as she approached you. “What was that about?” She laughed. 
“Beats me,” you shook your head, confused and a more than a little disappointed at his departure. After all, you hadn’t seen him in a few months. Most of your phone calls had circled back to the quell, and you would’ve liked some time together. At least the escape plan had made you more optimistic about your chances of seeing him again. 
————————————
“Answer me this,” Darla’s voice startled him the next day at training. “Why’d you leave the party in a rush?” 
“Sorry?” Finnick remembered it well, but in the light of day was better able to keep his cool. Damned glasses. 
Darla rolled her eyes, “Why don’t you tell me after I kick your ass?” She gestured toward the mats set up in an alcove and started walking that way. He followed her lead and took on a fighting stance. 
She started to throw out guesses as he dodged her jabs. “Indigestion?” He blocked a punch. “Had to vomit?” Blocked a kick. “Left the oven on?” Sidestepped a hit. Her barrage continued until he swept her legs out from under her. 
Darla landed on the mat without complaint, more concerned with him than with training. “Then what sent you running from my lovely mentor?” 
Finnick offered her a hand up, but she swept his legs out too. Lying in opposite directions on the floor, he made his first verbal defense. “What, you don’t get sick of those parties?” 
She propped herself up on her elbows and sent him a glare. It was intimidating too, but Darla had learned from the best. “Cut the crap, I know there’s a reason. No way she could fathom being rude to you, so that’s out.” Finnick rolled his eyes as sat up. “And she’s got no game so no way she made you blush.” 
“Come on,” he said, defensively, pushing to his feet, “don’t insult her.” 
Darla perked up at this, and accepted the hand he had once again offered, “Wait, it was really her that made you blush? What on Earth did she say?”
“Drop it, D,” he warned, stalking off. 
“I am so getting to the bottom of this!” She chirped, smiling at his departing figure. 
Darla gave him some space for a while, flitting around the various stations. The practical skills called out to her, no use practicing with weapons when she was already as good as she’d get.
When she saw Finnick bothering Katniss she made her way over to intervene. He’d tied a noose around his neck, the cheeky bastard. Just when he held it out for Katniss to take, Darla snatched it and pulled him away. 
She heard him wheeze and let up on her grasp. “Fuck,” Finnick choked out as loosened the rope from around his neck. “Darla!” He scolded her once he was properly free. 
“Don’t antagonize the girl,” she said, stopping once they were out of ear shot, “and don’t act like you’re not spoken for.” 
He didn’t bother replying to the first part, “I’m not spoken for.” Darla shot him a glare, saying you’re really going to pretend I’m wrong? with just her eyes. When he glared back she only shrugged.
“You could be,” she sassed, and he took a sharp breath. 
“I don’t think now is the time to-“ 
“If not now then when?!” Darla whisper-yelled, “Newsflash buddy, you still might die. So do you want to die sad and alone… or spoken for?” 
“Do I really come off as sad and alone?” Finnick blinked. 
“Only to those who know you,” she shook her head. 
“Gee thanks, Darla,” he said flatly. 
“It’s my pleasure,” she gave him a friendly yet exaggerated shoulder bump. “Come on, let’s catch the show.” Finnick followed her off to join the crowd forming around Katniss’s simulation session. 
Darla could see the faces of the other tributes drop as Katniss put down figure after figure. They were nearly all modeled after the rest of them, and featured their signature weapons at the very least. She clenched her jaw when Katniss shot the female figure holding a whip straight through the face. No mistaking who that was meant to be. She saw Finnick twitch when Katniss shot the figure with a trident through the chest. By the end, it was clear that the girl was absolutely on the level of every person there. If luck was on her side, and she wanted to, she could likely kill each one of them. 
Wiress started clapping, and it killed some of the tension in the air. But the quell was getting more interesting by the minute. 
——————-
The four of you sat in silence in a both in the empty lounge within the training center. You traced the rim of your drink, hoping Haymitch would arrive soon since he asked you all to meet him there. The casual conversation had died out a bit ago, having run out of outfits to make fun of to keep the conversation light. It was hard not to think about your immediate circumstances. 
You shivered a little, still unused to the central air the Capitol pumped through all their buildings. Finnick caught your eye and nodded his head in the other direction, inviting you to scoot closer to him. You would’ve shaken your head if you hadn’t put on a tank top earlier, but you were chilly enough to press up against his side in a bid to steal body heat. 
Finnick raised a hand to wave to Haymitch when he saw the older man scanning the place. He settled the arm over your shoulder when he was done. Behind your head, he caught Darla narrow her gaze at him and sent her a look of warning. 
“What’s the update?” He asked Haymitch as the man slotted into the space at the edge of the curved booth. 
“Well, Katniss is not keen on allies,” he said, instantly off to a bad start, “though she is interested in the District Three Tributes.” 
“Excuse me?” Johanna asked. 
“Yeah,” he nodded, “Wiress and Beete.” 
“You mean she wants Nuts and Volts for allies?” Darla asked, and heard Johanna try to muffle a snicker. She tried not to smirk at the sound. So much for ‘not understanding her’ or whatever Jo had said during their breakup. 
“Look, don’t shoot the messenger,” he defended himself. 
“Maybe we should if the message is dumb,” Johanna snarked, crossing her arms. 
“She said she liked them,” Haymitch repeated, and the whole table winced. Maybe as people, Darla thought, though even that might be a stretch, but as allies? In terms of physical game it’d be like tying a brick around your ankle. Hadn’t the girl seen anyone else at work? Johanna’s axe skills? The second time she and Finnick had sparred? 
“Anyone else?” You tried, hoping for a better result. Haymitch thought for a second before snapping his fingers. 
“Yeah, Mags!” Darla groaned, make that two bricks. Finnick used the arm he’d draped across your shoulders to flick Darla in the ear. 
“Mags and I are a package deal,” Finnick asserted. Not a chance in hell he’d trust someone else to protect Mags. 
“Then my bet would be no deal from the girl on fire,” Haymitch shrugged. 
“Ok, so we’re keeping Katniss alive, but Three too?” Darla asked. 
“Haven’t we established-?” 
“We’ve got it,” you reassured him, and Finnick and Johanna nodded.
“Good,” Haymitch saidd. “We’ll,” he nodded in your direction, “keep in touch through sponsor gifts. But it’ll have to be subtle, so keep your thinking caps on.” 
“Is that it?” Johanna asked, bored. 
“No actually,” he went on, “when the time comes you’ll have to cut out your trackers and one of you will have to get Katniss’s.” 
“Shit,” Darla said. 
“Squeamish?” Johanna taunted her from the other side of the table. Haymitch interrupted before a fight could break out. 
“Before then,” he said, firmly, “I’d recommend making a big show of the interviews. Last chance to drum up public outrage at this, maybe get it cancelled.” Johanna scoffed at that, but Haymitch kept on, “At the very least it’ll be good for sponsors.” 
“He’s right about that,” you nodded, already thinking up possible interview angles for Darla. 
Haymitch grinned, “I’ll see you all there.” He pushed away from the table, heading back to his own tributes, no doubt. 
Johanna walked away next, and Darla popped up to follow her. 
“Think they’ll kill each other before the games start?” Finnick asked, angling his head to look at you. 
You let out a chuckle, still tucked under his arm. “Let’s hope not. I’m counting on those repressed feelings to bring in sponsorships,” you replied, watching the two walk off. He grinned, shaking with a bit of laughter. When you looked up to catch his gaze, you realized how close you were. 
“They sure are powerful,” Finnick said, holding your gaze. 
You blinked at him, “Sorry?” 
“Repressed feelings,” he clarified, doing his best to look innocent. You elbowed him and scooted away from his grasp and out of the booth. You’d been dancing around your feelings for him for so long you didn’t know how to do anything else. 
“Goodnight, Finnick!” You called over your shoulder as you marched away. He sighed as he watched you go, a small smile working on his face. Maybe Darla was onto something.  
------------------------------------------------------
Hope you enjoyed <3333 next part coming soon! That one will cover the interviews and the start of the games at least
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thedeviltohisangel · 18 hours
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I hope we get an interlude abut the boys “vacation” in Africa since it’s longest (?) Cass and John would be apart since meeting so you know he’s driving the boys crazy talking about her and he won’t shut up until he sees her and the only reason he shuts up then is because he’s too busy kissing her
Ok so a little interlude about what Cass gets up to during this mission, a little bit about what John gets up to and their reunion is here.
I think my favorite part of the Africa mission is going to be him meeting her brother, Bobby.
She gives John a present and some letters and an updated photo of herself to give her brother and he takes the task so seriously. And Gale is like then why are you meeting her brother while you're in a fez?
But that is exactly how John meets his future brother-in-law for the first time. And he tells all the guys it's no big deal and he's got it in the bag and they're like then why are you sweating?
And Bobby does his best to be intimidating. But the last time he saw his sister she was crying because he was getting to escape and do something bigger with his life and she was stuck getting shoved into dresses and dragged around like a lifeless doll by Sidney Landry.
And when John speaks about Cass he can tell he worships her. He is smiling and blushing and hands him the gift like he's just delivered the Ark of the Covenant. And he reads the letter Cass has included and she tells Bobby that she thinks, no she scratches it out and rewrites it then crosses it out again, KNOWS that she loves him. And she prays her brother will too because John Egan has brought the color back to her cheeks and makes her giggle and she has never felt safer than she does in his arms.
Bobby asks around about John Egan and his sister. And the men groan and complain that they are lovesick doves just could stare into each other's eyes and just drift around the world happily. They tell him about John punching the RAF Pilot for even daring to mention her. Tell him about the sleep mumbling of his love.
About the way he held her after Berlin and how he brings her flowers every day.
So the last night in Africa, John summons the courage to ask Bobby if they can talk away from the group.
"I love your sister, Lieutenant Colonel Cooper. I've told her I'm in love with her. Told her I will protect her and provide for her as long as this universe will allow me to. She gives me a reason to live. A reason to fight for tomorrow and every day after because I want all the time in the world to be with her. I can never promise her forever but I can promise her my forever and I...I want to marry Cassandra when the time is right, sir. If that happens before I can meet your father, I'd like to have your blessing."
"My father, John, has been praying for a long time that a man like you would ask for his blessing to marry my sister." Cass had always been a wild thing. Mr. Cooper had been delighted with the way she challenged her mother. But he had lost the battle of preserving her independence any further than the turn of her twenties had brought. "I don't want to take that honor from him but I also want my sister to be happy. She deserves it more than anyone."
"I'll marry her everyday, sir. Your father will get the chance to give me his blessing. I promise."
"You have my blessing, Major. Just promise me you'll never try to cage her." John smiles blissfully.
"There is nothing about her I'd ever want to change."
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kybercrystals94 · 20 hours
Text
The Last Time
Read here on Ao3!
Angstpril 2024 | Day 30 | Prompt 30: The Last Time
Rated: G | Words: 1562 | Summary: “...it was the last time…” | Character Focus: Hunter, Tech, Crosshair, Wrecker, Echo
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“Are you awake?” Tech’s voice asks, right at the edge of Hunter’s bunk. 
Hunter doesn’t know how anyone can sleep with the hurricane raging outside the walls. It sounds like the entire city might topple under the weight of its rampant fury. Not that Hunter’s scared. His blanket is only pulled up over his head because the flashes of lightning burn his eyes. But the thin blanket does not protect his frayed senses from the bone rattling thunder and the constant barrage of torrential rain lashing against the walls and windows. 
“I’m awake,” Hunter says, voice muffled into his fabric sanctuary.
The edge of his mattress dips as Tech sits down next to him. “Excellent. Would you like to see the weather radar I have accessed?”
No, Hunter thinks, but he hears the slight tremble in his brother’s voice. With a sigh, he leaves the small comfort of his makeshift barrier and sits up. “Sure, Tech.” 
It is the middle of their sleep cycle. Their barracks should be dark, but the incessant lightning keeps the room lit with a flickering, white light. Tech does not wait for further invitation before he scrambles the rest of the way into Hunter’s bunk, putting himself between Hunter and the wall. He props his data pad between them, the screen a mass of twisting colors. “We are here,” Tech says, pointing to a tiny blip amongst the chaos.
“What do the different colors mean?” Hunter asks. He already knows. Reading weather maps is a basic part of their training; however, he also knows that Tech finds comfort in over-explaining even the most rudimentary facts. 
Hunter becomes so engrossed in the rambled explanation of weather patterns, that he doesn’t notice the shadow prowling across the room until it speaks almost directly into his ear.  “What are you doing?”
Hunter won’t admit if his nerves also leapt bodily in surprise, but Tech startles, the small jerk of motion jarring against Hunter’s side. 
Crosshair stands there, arms crossed tightly over his chest, shoulders hiked just a little towards his ears, waiting for an answer. 
“Tech’s showing me his weather map,” Hunter says. 
Crosshair shifts his weight, sharp eyes cutting away. “I want to see when this karking storm is gonna end,” he mumbles. Like Tech, he does not wait for an invitation to clamber into the bunk. Crosshair puts himself between Tech and the wall. Hunter shifts a little to make more room, Tech tucked snugly in the middle.
Tech starts his explanation all over again, moving the data pad to rest in his lap so that all three of them can see. 
“Hey!” an indignant shout comes from across the room. There’s a loud thump, the thudding of feet running across the room. Wrecker looms over Hunter’s crowded bunk, blanket wrapped around his shoulders like a cape. “No one told me we were sharing a bunk tonight. I don’t want to be alone either!” 
“We aren’t sharing a bunk,” Tech corrects him, “I am showing Hunter and Crosshair the storm’s progress on my radar.” 
Wrecker grins. “Then I want to see too!” 
He dives into the bunk amidst shouts of protest, wedging himself into the nonexistent space between Crosshair and the wall. Hunter is nearly shoved out of his own bed, clinging to Tech’s arm to keep himself from toppling to the floor. 
“We can’t all fit!” Crosshair squawks.
“Yes, we can!” Wrecker says, sounding all too pleased with himself.
“Wrecker,” Crosshair wheezes, “your elbow is digging into my ribs.” 
“Oh, sorry,” Wrecker says. 
Another pause. 
“Wrecker, your elbow is still digging into my ribs.”
“I know, but I’m really comfortable,” Wrecker sighs.
Tech huffs. “At least one of us is.” 
Hunter is halfway off the bunk. “We can make this work,” he says, “but not like this.” He drops to the floor and stands up. 
“How?” Crosshair asks. 
“Sideways,” Hunter says. “Now move.” 
“We’re too tall to fit sideways,” Tech points out. 
“Do you want to share my bunk or not?” Hunter asks. 
At that, his brothers don’t argue, quickly rearranging themselves. Sitting up as they had been, their feet - with the exception of Wrecker - come just to the edge of the thin mattress. They leave space for Hunter between the head of the bed and Tech. Hunter climbs into his allocated spot, and they situate his and Wrecker’s blankets over all four of them. 
“Now,” Tech says, taking out his data pad. “Shall I start again?” 
They listen to Tech talk about the storm, hardly noticing the stark flashes of lightning or the grumbling of the thunder or the endless onslaught of rain, until one by one they fall asleep. 
But it is the last time the four share a bunk. 
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
"Stop looking at my cards!” Wrecker cries, holding his splay of cards against his chest.  
Crosshair scoffs, sitting back. “I would if you’d stop waving them directly in my face.”  
“Maybe if you stayed on your side of the table...”  
“Can we play just one game without an argument?” Hunter asks, the patience in his voice becoming transparently thin. 
A brief moment of silence. Wrecker puts down a card. 
“Wrecker, that is an illegal play,” Tech says.  
“Is not,” Wrecker says. 
Crosshair picks up the card and flicks it back at Wrecker. “Is so. Take it back.” 
Wrecker grumbles, but puts the card back in his hand. 
The game continues without further incident until Crosshair wins the round. 
“How did you know I was bluffing?” Tech asks as Crosshair sweeps his winnings of spare bolts and screws into his pile. 
Crosshair grins. “You’ve got a tell.” 
“Really? What is it?” Wrecker asks eagerly, squinting at Tech. 
Tech rolls his eyes, gathering the cards to shuffle. “I do not have a tell.” 
“He does,” Crosshair says to Wrecker, ignoring Tech, “but I’m not going to give it away. It’s my strategy. He counts cards, and I read his tells.” 
Hunter groans. “Tech…” 
“That is not cheating!” Tech cries, indignant. 
“With your enhancement…” 
“Now wait a minute–” 
“Yeah! Using enhancements is cheating!” Wrecker declares. 
Tech huffs. “Then Crosshair shouldn’t be able to read my tells,” he says, then adds, glancing at Wrecker, “not that I have any.” 
“How the kark am I supposed to play then? Blindfolded?” Crosshair cries. 
Tech shrugs indifferently. “If necessary.” 
The table erupts in a tangle of arguments, rational and irrational alike. 
It is the last time they play cards before Echo joins the Batch. 
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
“Here we are,” Hunter says cheerfully, stepping into the clearing and removing his helmet. He takes a deep breath, enjoying the inhalation of pure air, rich with the scents of primitive wilderness. The only electromagnetic signals his senses can pick up are from the Marauder an hour’s march away, and the faint output of Tech’s data pad and their gear. 
“If by here you mean the middle of nowhere, then you are correct,” Tech grumbles, shrugging out of his pack and putting it against a tree. 
“It was Hunter’s turn to pick our shore leave,” Echo says diplomatically. “So middle of nowhere it is.” 
“I like it!” Wrecker booms, scaring away a bird that had been watching them from a nearby branch. “We haven’t been camping in ages!” 
Crosshair sighs. “What do you call what we just did on our last mission?”
“Just ‘cause we had to sleep outside doesn’t mean it was camping,” Wrecker says. “Camping means we have a campfire and don’t have to worry about getting our heads shot off by clankers.” 
“Now we just have to worry about our heads being bitten off by wild animals,” Crosshair retorts. 
Tech immediately cuts in. “There are no predators on this planet capable of such a feat. I made sure of it.” 
“See? I feel safer already.” Echo chuckles, pulling off his helmet and grinning at Hunter. “I think I’m gonna like this shore leave. We’ll have some peace and quiet if we can get these two to quit their whining,” he says, nodding at Crosshair and Tech. 
Echo receives twin expressions of indignation in response. 
However, that night, around the crackling warmth of the campfire, the complaints of the early afternoon are forgotten. The soft sounds of nighttime embrace them, soothing chaotic nature for something tranquil. They watch the stars overhead as things unreachable, winking pinpricks of light against a velvety, black canopy of sky. 
Hunter takes first watch, eager to enjoy the serenity they’ve found. Crosshair comes to sit next to him once their brothers have fallen asleep. He bumps his shoulder against the Sargeant’s, and Hunter nudges him back. They don’t speak for long, peaceful minutes, appreciating one another’s quiet company. 
“Do you think we could live like this? After the war?” Hunter asks at last, voice hushed. 
Crosshair doesn’t answer right away, leaning forward and bracing his forearms on his knees, watching the flames of the fire dance and spark. “We’re soldiers,” he says, “we don’t know anything but war.” 
“We could learn,” Hunter says. “Adapt.”
Crosshair chuckles. “I’m always up for a challenge.”
It is the last time they have shore leave before their mission to Kaller. 
<<>><<>><<>><<>><<>><<>>
Hunter tries to remember the last words he said to Omega.
The last meaningful words. 
The last words she might remember him by. 
In case this mission goes wrong.
In case it was the last time he ever saw her. 
But he can’t remember. 
END
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That's a wrap! [[On the eve of the Bad Batch series finale too!! 🥲]] 30 angsty prompts fulfilled in 30 days! I am honored to have gotten to collaborate alongside the endlessly talented @the-little-moment and @just-here-with-my-thoughts this month!
A master list post is coming soon with links to all 30 stories/chapters completed this month! So keep an eye out for that ☺️
Happy last Bad Batch eve, my lovelies! **sob**
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yanderederee · 1 day
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Hello darling,
May i request yandere kakucho with the letter K🤎
I try writing as gender neutral as possible but I slipped in a she/her pronoun (like I usually do by accident) so sorry about that
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
Oh:) he’s just the sweetest.
Kakucho is a pure hearted gentle man who puts you on a pedestal, and worships your very presence.
He’s a goofball, and does everything to make you smile. Kakucho is so head over heels in Love with your smile.
Your laughter is his favorite song. Your chapstick is his favorite flavor. You are his favorite person. Even above Izana.
The way he loves you is very different than the way he loves Izana. He respects and looks up to Izana with an unfurling loyalty. But his morals are in tact enough that it should never come down to having to pick between him or you.
Loyalty is Kakucho most noticeable trait; and even is Izana told him to let you go, Kakucho would stand his ground and oppose him. You are the one thing he won’t budge on.
The only reason he may feel swayed is if Izana threatened to hurt you if Kakucho didn’t leave you, but even then, Kakucho would be red with anger and step up. “You’re in pain, and I get that. But that’s no reason to take it out on Y/n. If you’re serious about threatening her, you won’t ever see me again. I don’t give a damn about anyone else, you know that. But not her.”
I sincerely believe that he would stand up to Izana if his heart was in it enough.
He protects you with his very life. Mr “I would take a bullet for you” is so serious.
He might act sweet and easy, but when you’re not looking, his expression can turn ice cold scary.
Scary dog privilege. ♡
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