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neptunes-sol-angel · 9 months

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Another pick a card...but make it cunt 😆 im lowkey cringing with myself, but I don't care, I loved this idea and this aesthetic. I've always been a cherry cola kind of gal.

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Pile One

You serve cunt in a classy way. Elegance is your niche, beauty and brains IS your motif. There's magic behind your allure that's very old fashioned, an era that's been mimicked by so many, but only truly reincarnated by fewer individuals. It's so nostalgic, and reminds me of this longing that's present in each generation. "I miss the 90s", "There's hardly any superstars in Hollywood anymore", "Where's the talent?", "Video Vixens of today are lacking sex appeal". Aesthetics and "vibes" are easy to wear as a costume, but will always fall short as if something is missing. You have something that isn't ephemeral and can't be cloned because it isn't studied by the naked eye, but is definitely hard to not notice. It's derived from your authenticity, and is most adored by when you're in your element. I'm getting that one of your talents involve visuals, if you're the model when it comes to art, people love your sense of style and the way that you walk, if you're the creator, whether it's digital or concrete, the people love how your creations are like air, it isn't try hard, it doesn't demand to be seen, it's a force to be reckoned naturally. Maybe you guys are enthusiasts, and are the audience that admires the art, but just because of your passion, you generate a following that's interested in how you see things and what you have to say. This could definitely be a pile for cinephiles, anime cosplayers, or even beauty influencers. Continue using your voice, serving cunt is when speak your mind. You're able to strike a nerve in people without being vulgar. Both your stance on things and tone are profound. People are intimidated by your intellect, eloquence, self-efficacy, and mental independence. I'm seeing archivists in this pile, people that are very protective over cultural traditions, history, but also protective over themselves. Even if you're still learning how to set boundaries in a healthy way with others, you demonstrate a lot of vigor by making the first step, which is knowing what's beneath your worth. Your physical attraction is lethal because you create your own category of appeal, what's preventing you from weilding it to its full potential is seeing it for yourself, without needing another person or social construct to point it out for you. Maybe some of you are trying to get out of the grass is greener on the other side mindset when it comes attracting what you want. If it's love in all aspects, recognition, self-worth, manifestation, or just confidence to interact with others as who you are, this relates to your femininity, a misconception that your feminine energy has to be soft, dark, hyper, or even concealed. For some of you, you could have had a rough upbringing, where although you unfortunatelt had to withstand pressure, it turned you into a diamond. Especially if you're ethnic, and resonate with being a historian, scrutiny over your physical and cultural differences, could have taught you to really value yourself, not feel guilty for defending yourself, and recognize how special you really are.

Pile Two

You're approaching a special glow up and it's definitely going to be something "cunty" that'll have some people upset. I don't even see this as a villain era, but more so something very personal. I feel like this pile has dealt with a lot of situations with people cornering you into making you doubt yourself or just outright trying to sabotage your spirit that could convince you out of opportunities that are divinely meant for you. Even though it says a lot about what you're capable of, if people have to kick you down when you're low or can't take you down by themselves, it takes a powerful person to stand up for themselves ten toes down against intimidation. You're going to achieve a milestone that's going to be very important to you but also a big deal to others as well, especially your haters. People that underestimated your might, are going to have to witness these rewards that you've worked so hard for, and it isn't even the peak of blessings that your endurance will reap. You serve cunt, by getting stuff done, accessorizing initiative with your charm, having a lot of endurance and scorching optimism amongst being met with cold situations like betrayal, failure, and people that aren't kind. You serve cunt with your quirks, creativity, and self-awareness, you're like this fountain that doesn't stop pouring when it comes to your capacity to grow and hone your gifts. You serve cunt with the way you keep fighting for your wishes and your stability. Even if it's not on some woo-woo abracadabra shit, you serve cunt in a "witchy" way. You guys are alchemizers, you make peace with your darkness by letting it transform you for the better. You're not afraid to show your scars, your sensitivities, your imperfections, or your mistakes, or your shadow. You wear them like a Picasso painting, abstract, thought-provoking, inspiring, mesmerizing. The way that you serve cunt is only a weapon to those who feel inadequate compared to your range. You could attract a lot of envy, people who feel personally feel like what you're blessed with should be given to them, but this is petty energy, hence why it never prevails against you. It could sting, but it never keeps you down. You could have a strong spiritual team that's protective over you, but part of your protection also comes from understanding that you DO have teasurable qualities that'll bring you success one day. You serve cunt, by the way you empower yourself instead of blaming others for hiccups in your life, you take control by knowing that no amount of evil eye, tower moments, or swords in your back can ruin or take away your abundance, that energy can't be destroyed, it can only be blocked by you, continue to keep your motivation high and always recognize when you're getting in your own way. The magic just doesn't stop, it starts with you and how you create your life by how you apply your actions in your present reality. Keep chasing after what you want, because it's out there, seeking for you too.

Pile Three

"I don't chase—I attract" but make it cunt. The burst of energy in this pile is both chaotic but ironically contained at the same time? It's like how a cat always lands on its feet. The universe LOVES you, and you know it, I'm getting major princess treatment vibes in this pile, but it's not something that you take for granted nor is your life just completely sunshine and rainbows. The struggles that weigh on your shoulders, you carry them well, and you always manage to give others a smile or just the things that you say will make their day or change their way of thinking about life. People admire your confidence, they love your humor, some people just want to BE you entirely because of how other individuals and opportunities just seem to gravitate towards you. People in general just deem you as someone's who is lucky. Words are spells, and people liken yours to the Midas touch. You're great at giving yourself and others, affirmations, and a part of what expands your abundance is how you show gratitude. Even if it's not much, the way that you speak of things, will make others believe that what you have is golden. I'm getting a hypothetical scenario where you're in a financial bind, that's inevitable and out of your control, but instead of mentally just shutting down or letting this problem consume your day, you order an iced coffee, but do you know what you're gonna do with that iced coffee? You're gonna romanticize the hell out of that coffee! This also applies to how you look as well, doing a baddie on a budget haul at Marshall's? Best believe you're gonna still be serving CUNT in that outfit, name-brand or not. You know that each person's expiration date on life is unknown until it happens, so you really serve cunt by living each day like the world is your oyster. I notice that you're also very clear with your intent which is why the universe meets you half way. When you take a leap, you can fall, you know you're not invincible, but most of the time, you fly, and soar away into the next adventure. When you lose things or people that are not for you, don't resonate with anymore, or take you for granted, you could find yourself immediately seeing your losses being replaced with something better. You treat life like a celebration, and that's why people enjoy your company, others may feel that it's always going to be a fun, pleasant, and memory making moment when hanging out with you. You're wild in a way that may be scary for others, but also induce an adrenaline rush in others because your aura just feels so carefree and like they're being liberated.

#divination #intuitive #psychic #pick a card #tarot #spirituality #pac #tarotblr #tarot community #free readings #tarot readings #the tarot community #pick a pile #pick a picture

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pretty-little-whorror · 7 months

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kinktober - public space

ash williams x reader

wc: 3190

a/n: for the four evil dead enjoyers on this site. i promise if i was less employed i would post daily for this like the lord intended.

tags: semi-public sex, fem reader, fingering, p in v sex, safe/protected sex, work sex, fucking your coworkers, ash williams, ash williams and his cheesy ass one liners, and his cheesy ass nicknames, that’s it maybe but i’m tired of looking at this, also not like 100% proofread, like 83%

Ash Williams had been put against his fair share of unpleasantries. Having to kill his sister, dismember his girlfriend, get sent back in time and go toe to toe against evil incarnate. Throughout all that, he still stands by that working retail can easily be just as bad - if not worse - than all that. Ash had been at S-Mart longer than he had ever intended and dealt with more customer bullshit than one could imagine. However, he did manage to enjoy his time there in his own Ash-y way while he was there, meaning knocking boots with any coworker that he could talk his way into the pants of.

With most it was a one and done situation. Most employees stay new before they eventually leave. To Ash, this was the perfect situation - left no time for awkward talking after he had gotten done what he needed. His most recent example had been with Jenny from Arts and Crafts. A red headed hardbody that had stayed at S-Mart maybe three months. As her last two weeks wrapped up, yours began.

The Arts and Crafts department was mostly women, so word about who exactly Ash Williams was got around to you quick. Most of the talk was about his serial womanizing, however a few strange rumours of beheadings and murder were weaved in and out during a handful of gossip sessions between you and your colleagues. You chalked them up to a bad game of telephone given how out of pocket they seemed.

Eventually, you had your first run-in with Ash, and it went as expected. You managed to keep a professional smile and move on after each encounter, however that was not without acknowledging that you couldn’t blame any of the other girls for falling for his routine. He was far from unattractive and his charming demeanor did nothing to repel you. Regardless, you were determined to hold your own.

Your resistance had come as a surprise to Ash, who believes he’s God’s gift to women. However he was never one to back down from a challenge. The harder the hunt the bigger the trophy. Months of passive aggressive flirting and innuendoed bickering had only made him more determined. He had used whatever brain he had to find different ways to push your buttons without an immediate trip to HR. It would usually result with you giving him a playful eye roll before you continued back to whatever you had been doing. Today was no different of an example, but as you found yourself pinned up against a wall in the stock room, whatever exactly had finally gotten you where he wanted had slipped your mind.

This close, Ash’s cheap aftershave was almost intoxicating compared to its normal warning of obnoxious behavior to come. As your tongues pushed against one another, you could taste remnants of the mint gum he had just spit out.

His left hand made quick work to take off the ill fitting uniform as his metal one held you up against the wall. Your fingers made quick work of his own blue work shirt, pushing the fabric off his shoulders, leaving him in a white undershirt.

“Someone’s a little anxious, huh?” He words teased into your ear as his calloused hand snaked its up your back to unclasp your bra.

“If that’s such a problem, I’m more than okay to stop” Your hands dropped from his shoulders as you spoke, looking up at him. He moved his hand back up and grabbed your chin with a chuckle.

“Oh baby, I’ve got you just where I want.” His hot breath tickled against the side of your neck. “I’d be an idiot to let you get away now.” He brought your face up to his with a rough kiss, his hand dropping from your face to finish discarding your bra. He pushed his tongue into your mouth with a groan as he fondled your breast. His thumb rolling gently over your hardened nipple. You sighed into his kiss as he continued to play with your tit. He broke the kiss to look down at your chest, a string of saliva still connecting your mouth the his.

 “Fuck sugar, you’ve got the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen.” He continued his ministrations as he used his other arm to raise you up, your legs now straddling his waist opposed to your hips. He quickly moved his face down to your chest, peppering nips over your other breast as his hand continued to roughly knead the other.

“Now we can’t let her sister have all the fun” He winked up at you before latching his mouth onto your nipple. You gasped at the action, the sensation of one hand rolling the hardened bud between his fingers and his mouth sucking and biting on the other causing your eyes to shut.

Ash reveled in your reaction, you could feel him chuckle against your skin as he continued. Your hand went to his head, fingers weaving through his black hair. He gave your tit one final, playful bite before his mouth went back to yours. His hand snaked down to your backside, giving your ass a quick squeeze before he set you down, his lips never leaving yours.

He made quick work of his belt, tossing it to the floor as he finished shrugging off his shirt. As soon as you heard the cloth hit the floor, his hands were on you again, discarding your pants into the growing pile of garments to the side of you. In a moment, he had you up again, straddling his waist. His mouth quickly found its way to your neck, nipping and sucking dark spots into your flesh. You sighed and lolled your head to the side, allowing him further access.

“Baby…” He whispered, his hot breath centimeters away from your ear. “Can you grab my wallet, hm?”

You giggled at the request and rolled your eyes. Understanding the request your arm snaked around to his back, snatching the wallet from his back pocket.

“Well forgive me for bothering princess,” he teased. “My hands are otherwise occupied”

“Hand” you corrected with a playful grin. In response, you felt his metal appendage pinch your ass. You gasped and slapped his arm as his mouth went back to your neck.

“That hurt, jackass!” You scolded as you felt his mouth curl into a smile against your skin.

“Well,” He raised his face back up to yours. He quickly closed the distance between you and brought your lips together. You felt his left hand sneak under the hem of your panties, slowly sneaking up to your core. “If that’s such a problem…”

You sighed as his fingers ghosted over your entrance, picking up your slick on his fingertips, at the same time, his thumb pressed against your swollen clit.

“…I’m more than okay to stop.” He pushed his index finger into your cunt as he repeated your earlier threat. You let out a breathy moan as he pushed his finger in to the knuckle.

“But I’m pretty sure you don’t want that” His voice was low in your ear. Your eyes shut as his middle finger joined the other.

“Fuck…” You murmured as his fingers worked to stretch you out.

“Shit, baby…” He breathed out as he began to curl his fingers against your walls, his thumb beginning to work small circles on your clit. “You’re so fucking wet for me, aren’t ya”

You bit your lip and nodded, your breath getting caught in your throat. Ash chuckled and shook his head.

“I think I want you to say it, baby” His mouth returned to your neck as the pace of his fingers became rougher. You didn’t speak, groaning in response instead, partially annoyed but mostly too lost in the feeling of his fingers inside you to care. You felt him like up a third finger outside your entrance and you arched your back towards him out of instinct.

“You gotta say it first, sugar, gotta tell me whose got you all hot and bothered”

You whined and opened your eyes, pleading up at him. “You, Ash. You….please” you rutted yourself against his hand as you spoke. He looked down at you with lust blown eyes.

“Good girl,” He whispered into your ear as his pushed in a third digit. You moaned at the feeling, his fingers immediately working on curling against that one, perfect spot and working with the pressured movements of his thumb against your clit. You felt the familiar building pressure in your belly as his hand worked to bring you to your climax.

“Now, how about you finish fetching that love glove out, hm?” You sighed. Your shaky hand meeting your other that held his wallet. You looked down, fingering through cards and cash until you pulled out the golden foil. You quickly dropped the leather wallet to the ground to join the other discarded garments.

“Ash…” You let out a whine as he withdrew his fingers to grab the condom. You looked up at him and pouted. He chuckled, glowing in the fact he’s taken your bratty demeanor away and replaced it with desperate begging.

“Oh, just give me a minute, doll face.” He winked as he undid his fly, pulling his pants down enough to allow his hardened dick out of its confines. You were, well you didn’t want to say impressed, but surprised he had the anatomy to match his attitude. You must have been taking a moment too long to look as Ash whistled to get you attention.

“My eyes are up here, sugar pot.” You rolled your own as he went to get the condom out of its wrapper. Before he would tear the foil, you snatched it out of his hand. Deciding to make a show of it, you tore the gold wrapper with you teeth while another hand began to stroke his member. Rolling the leaking beads of precum down his shaft with feathered strokes. You pulled the condom from the wrapper entirely and slowly rolled it down his cock.

“Atta girl,” Ash’s head tilted back with a sigh, he once again brought your lips down to his for a sloppy kiss. You gave him a few more lazy strokes before he adjusted how he held you against the wall in order to line himself up with your entrance. You breathe out a sigh l as the fat bulge of his head finds your swollen, wet hole. Out of instinct, arch into him, desperate him to satisfy your clenching body.

His lips reunite with the side of neck with an amused chuckle. “You’re so needy, hm?” He teased between peppered kissed towards the crook of your neck, teasingly pushing himself against your entrance.

His metal hand gripped your hips firmly as he pushed you down onto his achingly hard cock. Your eyes slammed shut with a carnal moan as he fully sheathed himself inside of you.

“You stretch so good for me, baby” He groans as he revels in the feeling of your sex enveloping his, your soft walls like a perfect fitting glove. You roll your hips against his, drunk on the euphoria of him buried inside to the hilt.

“Fuck, Ash-“ Your head falls back, hitting the wall behind you with a thud. He drags his cock from inside you before coaxing himself back in. You whine, working your best to sink as far down as possible in tandem with his movements.

His pace starts sultry; fucking you deeply and purposefully, his thumb resting on top of your thigh as he brought you down on him until you could feel his pubes tickle against your lower belly.

Your hands found their place, one flush against his chest and the other grabbing into his shoulder; promising crescent shaped bruises to form in the following hours from where your nails dug into his flesh.

He adjusts his hold on your hips as he picks up his pace, bouncing you on his cock. “Can’t believe I can finally fuck you.” He purred in your ear, his breath hot against the shell of your ear. His left hand moves between you, his thumb dancing over your clit andhis fingers circling where he pushed into you, getting it coated with the cocktail of your wetness and his precum that dripped out of you.

His hand then raised to the underside of your chin; his thumb lifting your head as his fingers prodded against your languidly parted lips. You further opened your mouth, allowing for the gentle intrusion. Your tongue swirled around the digits as you looked up through hooded lashes into his eyes. Making a show of cleaning off his calloused fingers. If Ash had an ounce less of self control he could have finished then and there.

He instead chuckled, his stare fixated on your mouth as you sucked his fingers. “Look at you, getting all filthy for me , hm?” His pace transformed into rough and desperate thrusts, his swollen head kissing your cervix. He withdrew his fingers from your mouth, his hand meeting his other at your hips, changing the angle he pounded into you just enough for him to be fucking directly into your sweet spot. An aching moan escaped your mouth at the change; allowing anyone who was close enough an exact idea of the wanton situation you were in.

“You sound so fucking hot for me baby, but the last thing I want right now is for someone to take this pussy away from me.” Normally, your response would be to chide him for pointing out the obvious accompanied by an eye roll. However, you just bit down on your reddened bottom lip and nodded, arching down on him further, desperate for him to fuck an orgasm out of you.

Ash's thrusts became rough and desperate, his length hitting your cervix with each powerful stroke. The change in angle caused an electric surge of pleasure to shoot through your body, your stifled moans threatening an exposing volume.

His rough and quickened pace only added fuel to the fire, you could feel the intensity building, your body desperately responding to his every movement in an attempt to bring your orgasm on quicker.

You clenched around him, your walls pulsating with need as you arched your back, meeting his thrusts with fervor. The overwhelming sensations coursing through you pushed you closer to the edge.

With each unrestrained thrust, you felt the pleasure intensify, the tension coiling within you like a tightly wound spring. Your moans threatened to grow louder as you did your best to stay quiet-biting down on your lower lip hard enough to draw blood as your head lolled aside, allowing him access to return his mouth to your neck. He callously nipped and sucked at the reddened skin as your nails dug into his skin as you desperately sought release.

As the pleasure reached its peak, you let out a guttural cry, your body convulsing in the throes of your orgasm. Waves of ecstasy washed crassly over you, leaving you breathless and completely consumed by the sensation.

Ash continued to pound into you, fucking you through as you were thrown into rapture. He felt the familiar burning of his own orgasm approaching. His final thrusts were rough and desperate as he finally came, burying himself deep inside you.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, his lips trailed back to yours, taking one last opportunity to taste you.

“You think you’re okay to stand, sweet cheeks?” He asked, his voice soft as his hand trailed down to your ass, gently kneading the soft flesh as he spoke. With a nodded response from you, he slowly pulled out from you. Out of instinct, you whined at the sudden empty feeling, still drunk on the sensation of his cock stuffed into you. He chuckled at your mewl.

“Don’t worry sugar, as soon as I can fuck that tight pretty pussy of yours again, I will. That’s an Ash Williams guarantee. ” He patted your ass and you unwrapped your legs from his waist, placing a foot on the cool ground. You almost fell to the floor as you attempted to put your weight on it. Ash’s metal hand still on your waist, he was able to keep you from falling completely. He smiled, relishing the fact he had fucked you good enough you couldn’t walk.

Knowing exactly what had made his lips curl into such a shit-eating grin, you flicked your eyes up.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You bent down to pick up your long discarded clothes, the cool metal of his hand still on your waist. “They just fell asleep is all.”

“Whatever you say, baby” He winked, turning his attention to disposing of the used rubber, rolling it off his softened cock; careful not to make a mess. He found some garbage to toss it in and pulled his pants back up over his crotch. You cringed at the thought of whoever had to take out that trash later tonight.

“What time are you out tonight?”

The question came as a surprise to you. You raised a brow as you worked to put your pants back on.

“Six…” You responded, unsure of the intent of his question. He wasn’t gonna wine and dine you - or whatever the Ash equivalent is that was - certainly. You had never heard any report of him attempting anything along the lines of that with anyone before. “What time is it anyway?”

He turned his wrist over, looking at the watch face. “Ten after.”

“Oh,” You raised your brows, surprised you had been…occupied, long enough to round out your shift.

“You?”

“I’m out at eight.”

“Oh, well okay”

The dialogue was shallow as you finished reassembling your work clothes.

You turned to him; “Why..?”

Ash looked at you with a cheeky grin, raising his eyes from his watch just enough to look up and meet your eyes.

"We should grab some drinks after work, have a bit of fun. I'll buy, I'm feeling generous tonight."

“And here I’ve been told chivalry is dead” Your put your shirt back over your head in time with the sarcastic response.

"I promise you, my intentions are anything but chivalrous when I tell you I'll be paying." He said with a grin and tacky wink. You decided to roll your eyes playfully opposed to wasting your words.

"I can take that as a maybe?" Ash asked. "Don't disappoint me, darlin'."

“Yeah yeah fine, whatever. Where?” You folded your arms across your chest, waiting for his reply.

"The Elk, we can sit at the bar, talk all flirty like." Ash said suggestively. "Nothing better than a bottle of whiskey on the table and a pretty lady beside it."

“Just pick me up after your shift, yeah?”

"After my shift," He confirmed with a smirk. "But just so I know, that's a yes then?"

“Deduce that one yourself, jackass.” You walked away with a smirk, not sure if volunteering more of your time with Ash would pan out in your favor.

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zhonyua · 7 months

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YUA ESCREVE SOBRE O BLADE OU O LUOCHA 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

your wish is my command.

soft injuries

blade x gn!reader

context: you're from the stellaron hunters and you see blade struggling with his bandages.

content: mentions of injuries, blood, cuts, bandages; a bit suggestive? but nothing more than it.

notes: sorry if blade is a little out of character; some things about the stellaron hunters are made up; i'm sorry, it's really short </3

you could say that today was a rough day. maybe because you had to 'deal' with annoying people or because you had to be scolded by kafka because you did something without thinking again. you just knew you were tired.

it wasn't easy to be great like them. they were good at everything they did. silver wolf was a great hacker, kafka was great at fighting and making strategies and blade... well, blade was truly awesome.

you could see how he usually dealt with his problems, even if he always found a way to injure himself. he was a difficult person, but maybe that was why you were so fond of him.

you didn't know how, but blade always found a way to take over your thoughts. if you were fighting, you would remember how hot he looked while threatening his enemies. if you were resting sitting on a couch, you would remember how his eyes shined when they narrowed at you. your mind was always thinking about him.

and today wasn't different. you were tired, yes, but your mind was already full of thoughts about him. you almost tripped on the stairs because you got distracted again. maybe thinking about blade wasn't so good for you. and when you saw him, alone in a room, struggling to wrap a bandage on his waist, you knew that you were already lost.

you slowly walked towards the room, trying really hard to not make any noise so he wouldn't notice you, but that was blade, so of course he heard the small creak your shoes gave each step.

"what do you want?" his stern voice resonated through the empty room and you jumped slightly from the startle. you sighed, giving up on your slow and quiet pace and walking normally towards him.

"what are you doing?" you peeked over his shoulders and he moved so his back could cover your vision. "none of your business." he said in that same tone of voice. you felt an urge to keep annoying him.

"it looks like you're struggling there." your voice sounded terribly teasing. "i'm not." blade's words were interrupted by a low grunt when the bandage roll he was holding fell on the ground. you quickly kneeled down to grab it and he immediately tried to take it from your hands, but you moved it away from his reach.

"i could help you." you said and he rolled his eyes in an annoyed way. "i don't want your help." his face had a stern look that just made you insist even more. "don't be so annoying." you said and he frowned.

your persistence was irritating him so much, that he gave up after a few more tries. "alright, i give up. just do it quickly." blade said in a low voice, as if he didn't want anyone to hear it. you couldn't hide your victorious smile, while you carefully approached him, as if he was going to bite you.

he was leaning on a table, his arms behind him, so you could have more space. you could feel that, even if he was sighing annoyed all the time, he was liking how close you were from him. your eyes traced his bare chest without any hesitation, while you slowly began to wrap the bandage around his waist.

he had bleeding cuts all over his torso, and you carefully wrapped the bandage around them all, touching his skin even so slightly. you could see how he was holding his sighs, every time your fingers rubbed against a tiny cut.

you felt his stare at you, but you ignored him. you pressed an injury a bit too much and he grunted, grabbing your hand, roughly. you looked up at him, just realizing how close your face was from his.

"you're doing it on purpose." blade's voice sounded low and his eyes didn't leave yours. "am i?" you tried your best to give him the most innocent eyes you could. "oops." you pressed the spot again, smiling when he grunted.

"stop it." his voice sounded hoarse and his eyes narrowed at you, but that just made you want to keep doing it. "and what if i don't?" you whispered, teasingly. that was the last thing you said before he grabbed your face with one hand and pulled you for a kiss.

your eyes widened with surprise, but soon your lips curled up in a smile. you couldn't hide how much you wanted that, and now that it was finally happening, you felt like it was a dream. but blade's hands sliding down to firmly hold your waist, reminded you that it wasn't.

your hands, on the other side, ignored the bandages completely, brushing his chest until your arms wrapped around his neck. his mouth felt warm and he bit your lips in the most possessive way possible.

you sighed heavily between the kiss when his hands began to move lower, but he suddenly pushed you away before you could even react. before you could ask what happened, you heard a familiar voice calling for his name.

"hey blade, did you see my..." silver wolf entered the room looking around, but when her eyes stopped on you she fell silent. "oh." she had a neutral expression, but you could feel that she was going to laugh it off later. "well, sorry, i'll ask later." she left, not before giving blade a wink.

you felt your cheeks warming and you looked away from blade, but he didn't look bothered at all.

"we're going to continue this later." it was the last thing he said, before grabbing his things and leaving you alone in the room.

suddenly, you didn't feel tired anymore.

it was the first time that doing something without thinking led you to a good thing.

#hsr blade #honkai star rail #blade honkai #blade x reader #im embarrassed

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writingjourney · 1 year

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Hiiii! I was wondering if you could maybe write about copia struggling to do his makeup and asks (y/n) for help?

let me help | copia x gn!reader

Thank you for your suggestion anon, it inspired me to this little fic. It may be a bit different from what you had in mind but I hope you enjoy it anyway :) @leezlelatch here it is ♡

summary: your papa is overworked and tired, too shaky to do his own make-up, so you offer to help. content: 2.1k words, some mild hurt/comfort, established relationship

masterlist – Ao3 link

✦ ✧ ✦

A strong gale blew thick and heavy snowflakes against your window all night, leaving a plump white pillow on the sill that’s now covering half of the glass pane. You woke up multiple times as the wind howled in the cracks of the abbey’s old stone walls like a wolf calling to the moon, only ceasing in the early hours of the morning. As you get ready for the day now, the sky has cleared up and the soft glow of a rising sun paints your quarters in warm hues of orange. You lift your hand and let the warm rays of sunshine dance over your fingers.

It’s all quiet at this time of day and you’re sitting on your shared bed, pulling on some warm socks while Copia does his make-up. He’s perched on a wide, upholstered stool in front of the vanity he got when you moved in with him. Anything so he wouldn’t occupy the bathroom all morning, so he can share some more time with you while getting ready.

The sunlight hits the back of his head, his hair still tousled and sticking up at odd angles. You love observing him as he gets ready. While clumsy at first the process of painting his face has now gone over into muscle memory and watching his nimble fingers get to work each morning is a sight to behold. His brow is always furrowed in concentration, deepening the adorable wrinkles on his forehead as he draws precise black lines onto his features. His lips stay tightly pressed together through the whole process right until he finally has to relaxe them to apply his lipstick.

It’s the same procedure every single morning.

Well, except for today.

“Ahhhh, cazzo.”

His sudden curse makes you look up and you catch him furiously scrubbing at his cheek, almost violently wiping away some of his black paint. A blotchy gray rim remains around the red patch of skin he just rubbed raw.

“What is it, my love?” you ask, worried he’s going to seriously hurt himself.

Copia sighs in defeat, setting down the black paint in frustration only to stare at it in mild disgust. You observe him over the mirror but he doesn’t look up at you, a heavy air of sadness hanging over him.

“Ugh… I feel a little shaky today,” he finally says, staring at his trembling hand. “I cannot get it right.”

You’re aware Copia has dealt with a rough few days – sleeping restlessly, feeling unwell from all the stress, skipping meals in order to get more work done. It’s hardly surprising that he’s shaking, already overworked and worn out with another long day looming ahead of him.

You scoot off the bed and make your way over to your exhausted Papa. His eyes find yours in the mirror as you approach, and he makes space for you on the stool. It’s a tight fit but you sit down sideways, facing Copia instead of the mirror.

“What are you doing?” he asks as you take his hands in yours.

“Helping.” You bring them to your mouth, gently kissing each individual knuckle. You can feel his tremor, feel his tension against your lips. He slowly eases up as you continue to kiss him, running your thumbs over the backs of his hands. Copia sighs softly and when you look up, he’s smiling weakly at you and you already know what he’s going to ask next.

“Amore… how do I even deserve you?”

“You deserve all my love, don’t you ever question that.“ You give him a playfully stern look, followed by a pout, and his cheeks turn all rosy. “Now let me do your make-up.”

“You– you want to–“

“I’ve seen you do it a hundred times. I think I should be capable by now.”

“That’s not…” He swallows, softly shaking his head. “Not what I meant.”

His tone is enough to tell you exactly what he did mean. Do you really want to do this for me? Painting my face, something you’ve never done before, to help me when I feel so vulnerable right now?

“Yes, I want to.” You let go of his hands to reach out for his face, slowly rubbing your thumbs over his cheeks. “My love, I know I cannot shoulder your burdens, I cannot paint my face and be Papa for you, but I can try to give you as much love and support and care as I can. And if that means packing you lunch to make sure you eat, rubbing your back when it’s sore from sitting all day, popping in to help you with paperwork or even doing your make-up because you’re too worked up over the day ahead, I will happily do it.”

His eyes close and he takes a deep breath, smiling as a single tear rolls down his cheek. “I love you,” he whispers. “I love you so much, amore. You are my everything.”

It pains you to see him like this, so bone-tired, so defeated, really. He is your everything too and to admit that you can’t simply make all of this go away hurts. You lean in to kiss away the tear, add a few more kisses to his cheeks for good measure and an especially soft one to his lips. “I love you, too, Copia. More than you can imagine.”

You break away and he opens his eyes, huffing out a slightly embarrassed laugh. “Uhm, yes… so… should we start?”

“Mhm.” You reach for the white paint and decide to fix the spot he had been rubbing raw earlier. The redness is mostly gone but you’re still careful as you apply the face paint with a beauty blender. At first Copia watches you, still with that hint of disbelief in his eyes that you’re actually willing to do this for him, but then he slowly closes them and relaxes into your gentle care. Once his whole face is covered in an even shade of white, you pick up the black paint again. You find a brush and dip it in, trying to get a feeling for how much you need.

“Do you… uh…” Copia looks around, probably searching for his phone. “If you need a picture, for reference…”

“No, I don’t think so.” You chuckle, reaching for his chin to make him look at you. “I’ve been staring at your handsome face so many times, I’m sure I could do it in my sleep. Just relax, amore, I will get it right, I promise.”

“I know you will,” he immediately says, ears turning red at the use of his pet name. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to doubt you, tesoro. It’s just…”

“I know, it’s okay. Just relax, please.” You give him a genuine smile, raising your eyebrows until he finally returns it. Of course it seems a little forced, he’s still anxious, still tired, but it’s better than nothing. He takes a deep breath and finally relaxes his features, allowing you to start with the black paint.

It takes you a while to get his whole face done since you’re trying to be as careful as possible. Admittedly, you’re a little shaky too, but with the help of the brush and working very slowly, you get the lines straight anyway. Copia tries very hard not to flinch or move his face, but he does blink a few times as you draw the lines around his eyes. You’re doing his eyelids when he blinks yet again, the timing unfortunate as his lashes hit the brush and some of the paint gets into his white eye. He hisses and tears up immediately, squinting hard in pain.

“Oh, shit. I’m so sorry,” you mumble, pulling away as fast as you can.

He raises a hand to your arm, the hurt eye still tightly screwed up. “Don’t, please, it happens.”

Copia hands you a tissue and you gently dab at the tears before they mess up the rest of his make-up, waiting until his eye stops leaking. An agonising minute later he manages to keep it open, the white iris surrounded by a now very red sclera. It looks worse than it probably is but it still scares you and you take a few deep breaths before you decide to continue with your finger instead of the offending brush.

“Is it okay now?” you ask.

“It is. Thank you,” Copia whispers. “You’re doing so well, amorino. Don’t worry about it.”

You smile at his praise, though you’re not sure if he’s being quite truthful about the pain. Nevertheless, you apply the rest of the paint, even more cautiously now, until it’s almost done and only the lips are left.

It’s not the first time you see his whole face covered in make-up with only his lips bare, it’s basically a slightly cleaner version of what he looks like after a good make-out session – once all of his lipstick has transferred to your face. And he does have very beautiful lips, so plump and pink and practically begging to be kissed. They always feel so soft against yours and when he’s gentle–

Copia must see you staring at them because his fingers find your chin, slowly lifting your gaze until your eyes meet and he smirks. “Are you distracted, tesorino?”

You fight a smile. “What if I am, Papa? Are you going to fire me?”

“Oh, I could never do this, no.” He smirks knowingly. “Your Papa enjoys having all of your attention way too much, amore.”

That’s enough to make you close the gap and finally kiss him. He smiles into it and before you can pull away, his hands find your cheeks, keeping you exactly where you are. His fingers gently move into your hair, tilting your head up before he deepens the kiss. You sink against him with a sigh, hoping this won’t do too much damage to his paint. But that thought is forgotten as soon you feel his teeth grazing your bottom lip, asking for more. You let him kiss you breathless as you taste the remnants of minty toothpaste on his tongue and it’s enough to make you crave him so badly. But he’s tired enough already, you can feel him losing his energy as the kiss gets more sluggish and he takes a deep, shuddering breath.

“Promise me to take it easy today,” you whisper against his mouth. “I’m so worried about you, Copia.”

He lets out a sigh, the exhale ghosting over your tender lips before he whispers back. “Ti voglio tanto bene. For you I promise anything, anything. I try my best to get home early tonight, sì? We can continue this without hurry.”

“Yes, please.” You smile, running your thumb along his jawline. “And I love you too. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“How could I? Whenever I look in a mirror today I will be reminded, eh?” He presses a wet kiss to your cheek before he pulls away. “Now, I think I’m already late.”

He’s right, you’ve taken way too long. So, you reach for the black lipstick and carefully follow the curves of his still kiss-swollen mouth, trying to ignore the tingling sensation in your belly. You blot his lips with a tissue after you’re done and fix some of the white paint your kiss messed up again. Once you’re done, he looks just like always. The only difference is the warm, affectionate smile that now graces his features, the twinkle in his eyes that belongs to you and only you.

“Thank you, amore,” he says, inspecting himself in the mirror. “È veramente perfetto. You did so well. I want to kiss you again so bad, but I would ruin it.”

Instead, he blows you a bunch of kisses and you giggle as you pretend to catch them. Copia gives you the first enthusiastic smile you’ve seen on him all day and it doesn’t leave his face as he combs his hair back, smoothes out his black dress shirt and tugs at the sleeves.

Then he suddenly jumps up, raising his hands. “Tada!” He does a little spin, almost stumbling over the leg of the stool. “How do I look, eh? Tell your Papa what you think. Be honest.”

“You look bellissimo!” you say, clapping your hands as you grin at him. “The most handsome Papa to ever grace these halls.”

“Ha! And it’s all thanks to my very talented amore. I am so lucky, molto molto fortunato!”

You stand up as well, let him pull you into a tight embrace. He’s solid and his arms feel strong as they squeeze you to his body. He’s not quite recovered, and you know it will take more time, will take you a lot of convincing to get Sister to reduce his workload, but you can tell he’s feeling better for now.

And that’s what truly matters.

thanks for reading :) if you want more comfort fics check out this fic, this fic or this fic hehe ♡

#papa emeritus iv x reader #papa emeritus 4 x reader #papa emeritus iv #papa emeritus iv fanfiction #copia x reader #cardinal copia x reader #cardinal copia fanfiction #the band ghost #the band ghost fanfiction #ghost fanfiction #ghost the band #comfort fic #papa 4 #papa iv x reader #papa iv #copia

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ctitan98official · 3 months

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@alexander-23 : Ok ok ok ok sooooooooooo! How are we feeling about foster kid reader who really likes plants and sculpting with model clay to make things for her plants like lil mushrooms and stuff. Larissa is fostering her and they have a day to garden and reader shows her the little mushrooms, bunnies, garden gnomes, and more they made and they make a lil garden village scene there together.

I love this! Reader, as usual, is gender-neutral. Let’s get into it!

Life has definitely not dealt you any favors. You never knew your parents or had any relatives. You’d always been in the foster system and had it rough growing up. You felt like a burden, like something in other people’s way. You try to talk as little as possible, especially to your foster parents. You don’t want to annoy anyone.

However… Your newest foster mom is decidedly different from any you’ve had before. Larissa Weems… She’s actually the headmistress of a prestigious high school called Nevermore. She not only took you in when you needed a place to stay, but was even able to get you enrolled. While the school normally doesn’t admit students in the middle of a semester, your grades are impeccable and the school made an exception. They simply had to have such a bright student. You’d never felt so… Special before. Larissa had the proudest smile on her face when she told you that you would be going to Nevermore. “We’ll get to be together all the time, darling!” She gushed.

You gave her a shy smile and nervously nodded, feeling a little overwhelmed. There’s a lot of changes happening.

Larissa has been so sweet. She cooks for you, does your laundry, and she loves to talk to you and tell you stories. While you don’t speak a lot, your eyes are wide with wonder at how good of a storyteller she is.

Larissa can see the curious spark in your eyes and knows you will one day grow up to do something great. She just needs to find a way to get you out of your shell. You’re still acclimating to your new environment, but Larissa really wishes you’d open up to her more. She knows that your past experiences color your view of the world, understandably so, but she wants to show you that there are people who genuinely care about you, herself included. In fact, it’s so strange, but ever since she met you she felt a deep connection. Almost as if you two complete each other. When she got the call that you would be placed in her care, she cried a bit. You’re just such a good kid and she only wants the best for you. She had always wanted to be a mom and you made that dream come true.

A few weeks into you starting at Nevermore, Larissa decides that you two could use some quality time together. She gets you out of classes for the day and lets you pick how you want to spend it. You’ve never had a lot of free time. You always have to fit yourself into other people’s schedules. But, Larissa’s eyes are soft with affection as she looks at you, her voice gentle and warm. “What would you like to do today, my dear? I want to make it special for you.”

You panic for a moment, not sure what to say. You shift your weight nervously, fiddling with the edge of your shirt. The idea of suggesting something fills you with both excitement and fear. You take a deep breath, mustering your courage, and finally speak up. “Um, well, I actually really enjoy gardening. It’s… It’s something I do when I need some… Peace.”

Larissa’s smile widens and she gently places a hand on your arm. “That sounds absolutely lovely. I adore gardening too. It’s such a calming activity. Let’s make it happen, Y/N.”

You can’t help but feel relieved. The fact that Larissa is genuinely interested in your idea fills you with a sense of validation. A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you begin to feel more comfortable. You grab your backpack that you bring everywhere and nod at her.

As you head outside, Larissa walks beside you and gently takes your hand in her own. Her presence is comforting and reassuring. She looks at you with a twinkle in her eyes. “Where do you think we should start, darling?” She asks.

Your hesitation returns momentarily, but then you remember the secluded patch of soil you’ve been carefully tending. You glance at Larissa. “I… Actually have kind of a secret garden. It’s not much, but… I’ve been working on it for a while.”

Larissa’s eyes widen with curiosity and delight. “A secret garden? How enchanting! I’d love to see it. Lead the way!”

Your heart swells as you guide Larissa to your hidden oasis. As you reach it, you show her the array of vibrant flowers that you’ve nurtured with tender care.

Larissa’s breath catches. “Y/N… This is beautiful. You did all of this yourself?” She asks.

You nod, feeling glad that she approves. A small part of you worried that she would be angry at you for using her garden planter without asking her first. But, she seems in awe of your work. She looks over each plant and marvels at how well you did.

But, there’s more to your garden than just plants. You take a deep breath and reach into your bag, retrieving the small sculptures you’ve meticulously crafted from modeling clay.

Larissa’s eyes widen in amazement as you present the tiny creations—Mushrooms, bunnies, and garden gnomes. She delicately picks up one of the miniature sculptures, inspecting its intricate details. “Oh my goodness, these are absolutely delightful, darling! You have such a talent.”

A blush creeps up your cheeks at Larissa’s words. She appreciates the things you create, the pieces of your imagination that you’ve brought to life. It’s a powerful moment of connection and understanding.

Together, you and Larissa carefully place the sculptures throughout the garden, weaving them into the natural beauty of the surroundings. Each addition enhances the atmosphere, transforming your secret garden into a whimsical village scene.

As you work side by side, Larissa’s gentle guidance and curiosity for your sculptures make you feel safe and valued. In her company, your shyness slowly melts away, replaced by a growing sense of comfort and trust.

As the day progresses, you find yourself opening up to Larissa, sharing your thoughts, dreams, and aspirations. She listens attentively, offering kind words of support. The bond between you strengthens with every word and you begin to realize that Larissa’s feelings for you go beyond anything you’ve ever felt before. She’s beginning to love you like her own child, drawn to your unique spirit and the beauty you bring into her life.

As the sun sets, casting a warm, golden hue over your garden village, you both settle down on a cozy bench. The scent of flowers fills the air as Larissa wraps her arm around your shoulder, pulling you into a loving embrace. You lean into her, feeling a sense of belonging and contentment.

“You know,” Larissa murmurs, her voice filled with maternal affection, “I can’t express how grateful I am to have you in my life, Y/N. Today has been truly special and I hope we can do things like this often.”

A smile spreads across your face and you nestle closer to Larissa. With the garden as your canvas and her love as your guiding light, you know that this relationship will continue to grow. Just like the flowers in your secret garden.

Masterlist

#larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #larissa weems x y/n #larissa weems x you #wednesday netflix #principal weems #larissa x reader #larissa x y/n #netflix wednesday #wednesday imagine

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howdoyousleep3 · 2 years

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Rating: Explicit (E) Word Count: ~ 5.2 K (i have no chill, it seems) Notable Tags: Mafia Boss Steve Rogers, Daddy Kink, Age Difference, Established Relationship, Manhandling, Spanking, Slapping (pussy and face), Crying, Rough Sex, Dirty Talk, Multiple Orgasms, Light Breathplay, Office Sex, Desk Sex, Possessive Behavior, Flirty Bisexual Bucky Barnes A/N: Ugh y'all, these two. This has been in my WIP folder for so so long now and I'm thrilled to finally finish it and share it, even if it almost ended me and even if I hated it by the end because I'd been staring at it for far too long. 😅 Special thank you to those who looked it over and reassured me constantly, @vilkasdaina, @maddiewritesstucky, and @sweeterthanthis. Find more of Daddy and his Kitten's story here. Read on Ao3 here. I hope you enjoy! 🧡

You try your hardest to not let the power go to your head.

The love of your life may be the feared and respected leader of the underbelly of the east coast, but you know who he comes crawling back to each night, who has the honor of worshiping him in a way that no one has had the privilege to before.

While you try your hardest to not let said power go to your head, it never fails to do just that each and every damn time you’re reminded of your possession over each other. And if it goes right to your pussy as well as your head, who can blame you?

The moment you catch Bucky’s eye from down the hallway, you can hear the relief in his voice, can see it in the way he takes a deep breath and lets his shoulders drop.

“Fuck, doll— I’ve never been happier to see someone in my whole fuckin’ life,” he exclaims as his eyes run down the line of your body, his eyebrow arching immediately. You aren’t sure why he’s surprised; he warned you that pulling out all the stops was necessary on a day like today.

“I’m happy I could make your day,” you joke as you reach for each other in greeting, Bucky’s fingers wrapping around your nape, lips pressing tightly against your cheek. He smells like spearmint, a bit musky like he’s worked up a sweat at some point during the day. You’re almost certain it’s sweat brought on by his boss and you already feel the need to apologize on his behalf for working Bucky up over what is assuredly nothing.

“Sweetheart, if you can fix his fucking attitude you’ll make more than just my day.”

You’re sure you should be offended on some level, degraded maybe, but being called in to help improve Steve’s piss poor mood makes you feel special, makes you hot right where it counts. Knowing that others have done what they can to help improve his mood, his sharp tongue and his short patience, with no success makes you feel unique, privileged, one of a kind. It makes you hold your chin high.

You know what your Daddy needs, know that you hold the answer to what will improve everyone’s day, starting with Steve’s own. Everyone knows why you’re here, everyone knows what you can bring to the boss that no one else can, and you aren’t ashamed in the slightest.

You’re almost tempted to drop the thin, knee-length jacket you’re donning to the floor right where you stand outside Steve’s office. Then there would be no trace of doubt left behind as to why you’re here and what you’re bringing to the boss.

“Anything I should know?” you inquire softly, Bucky immediately sighing and running a hand down his face in response to your question.

“Nothin’ new, same prick as always, just maybe…times ten. Can’t get two words out without him snapping at you, not one goddamn thing is good news. Dealt with some trouble down in the borough himself, went a bit far. Might still be bloodied up from that. Didn’t even lift his spirits any.”

It’s worse than you thought. Your plan immediately shifts in your head where you stand. He doesn’t need a docile, sweet partner— he needs that final push. You nod your head, mind quickly made up, and turn towards Steve’s office doors.

“You sure you don’t wanna stick around, Buck?” you tease quietly, and it’s indeed a bad day if Bucky, although he sinks his teeth into his bottom lip, shakes his head as he begins to walk away.

“Goddamn, you know I’d love to, doll. But I can’t stick around and look at his ugly fuckin’ mug for one more second; I gotta go do some damage control. He may owe me for this, but I owe you.”

Another time then.

You wouldn’t have needed Bucky’s warning to know that Steve is indeed having an awful day; the state of his office is enough of a sign that things are not going well. Chairs are misplaced, papers scattered and quite obviously unorganized on both the coffee table and his desk. Steve enjoys a calm work environment, is a man that prioritizes tasks daily, enjoys sunlight and openness, demands serenity from the aspects of his life he can control.

Steve is not having a very good day.

You don’t bother locking the door; you aren’t worried about others seeing you with the boss. You almost hope it happens; it might improve his mood even further. You make quick work of the belt on your coat, slipping it off from your shoulders and draping it along the back of a chair. The crisp air of Steve’s office slips up your spine, your neck, down your nearly nude form. It’s comforting as it spreads across your heated body, has your shoulders squaring on their own accord.

Your matching lingerie set is black and sheer, leaves nothing to the imagination with the strings of your thong resting high on your hips and your bra cupping your breasts perfectly. You leave your heels on, just as he’d like, same with your stockings. Steve is weak for the feel of their sheerness, softness, on his skin and you’ll take any sort of help you can get.

His back is turned to you, his attention placed solely on whatever it is he is looking at at the table behind his desk. Even hunched over and irritated, he exudes such natural power and dominance you can’t help the warmth that builds between your legs, the way your eyelids droop at the sight of him alone. His dark slacks, his crisp white dress shirt that’s open at the collar, the ring on his pinky and the matching gold of a watch at his wrist, the ink that litters his body with purpose— he’s so obviously a man in charge.

You want to console him, want to press your lips to his temple and hum, want to sit yourself in his lap and ground him, but from what Bucky has told you, that won’t work today. You're racking your brain of how to proceed when Steve is the one to speak up first.

You should have known that he would be more than aware of your presence. You’re the one that has snuck into his office unannounced and here he is, speaking up with a stern enough voice that it startles you.

“What are you doin’ here, kitten?”

His tone demands an answer, an honest one and a quick one. It’s an impatient tone you aren’t used to but one that fits this environment. You’re bristled at his shortness but you don’t let it show, keeping your chin high and voice firm.

“What do you think I’m doing here?” you respond with, beginning to slowly make your way in Steve’s direction, heels muted against the sprawling rug in his office, trailing your fingertip over the leather seats as you prowl. He scoffs then, a tiny noise that could be mistaken for something it isn’t, but to you it almost feels like a slap to the cheek, and not the kind you’re fond of.

You continue to take steps in his direction nonetheless.

He turns and looks over his shoulder and there’s a brief moment where you feel you’ve won, where you feel victorious in your purpose in the way he allows himself to drink you in, eyes damn near a physical touch as they roam your form. It is but a moment though, and he’s quick to turn his attention back in the other direction.

You don’t think he’s ever rejected you.

In fact, he’s always been quick to do the opposite, to make you more than aware that he craves you day and night.

You’re immediately miffed, more than so. You look like a fucking bombshell, you left work early, you’re ready to help melt the stress away from your boyfriend’s day— how dare he not drop everything and crawl in your direction?

You think you’re angry now, but then you hear him mumble a curt, “I’m a bit busy here, sweetheart,” and that’ll do it.

Fuck him.

You can’t even stop to see this situation from his point of view, can’t calm your emotions long enough to consider the circumstances that brought you here. You’re standing here in stockings and sheer lingerie and red bottoms and he wants to dismiss you? No, no. You don’t even hesitate to go for the kill, go right for what will piss him off the most.

“Oh, that’s fine,” you start, voice deceivingly angelic as you glance down at your pristine manicure, paid for by him of course. “Bucky seemed to think I could come make your day, but if you want to be a dick about it, I’ll go see if he is willing to take full advantage of all of this.”

You don’t even wait for him to say anything, digging your heel into the carpet as you turn your back on him, your body trembling all over in anger. You make sure he gets an eyeful though, the cherry on top surely being the sway of your hips, the view of your ass he can never say no to.

You make it two steps towards the door after reaching for your coat before his hands are on you.

He wraps a thick arm around your waist, his other hand coming up to curl around the front of your throat, yanking you back against his chest. You can immediately feel the way his own body trembles with caged emotion, and while it should be a comfort to you, it is anything but. It could be pent up emotions from the day, it could be ones you’re bringing out right now. It could be a combination of the two. Either way, you do not find solidarity in your shared outbursts.

The fight within you is strong. You’re ready to take him on and if he wants to go about it in such a physical way, then so be it.

“You wanna run that by me again, kitten?” he spits lowly into your ear, holding you roughly against the rigid line of his much larger body. You don’t make it easy for him, twisting and bucking as much as you can as he pulls you back further into his office, further away from the door. As physically useless as the fight is, pushing back feels good. You dig your blood red nails into his forearm, thrash against his hold.

“Yeah, sure,” you bite out like a brat, making sure to speak clearly. “If you’re not going to take advantage of me, I’m sure Bucky would love to. In fact—”

Your words are muffled by his hand, the last of them drowned out by his growl. You kick over a chair as he picks you up off the floor, knocking it to the ground as you flail, and as you reach his desk, you happily tear your teeth into Steve’s palm. He only grunts in frustration, hand coming back down to your neck in an instant, frustration evident in the way his fingers curl around the column of it.

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth,” he whispers against your temple, and you can’t stop your husky laugh as it tumbles out of your mouth.

“Daddy doesn’t mean that.”

With a noise of frustration, he has you shoved over his desk at the waist, hip bones digging sharply into the expensive oak. Your coat is long forgotten a few steps back and his hand is on your ass without pause, squeezing roughly at one cheek and then the other. The set of smacks that follow are startling, painful and succinct.

You love it.

The huff you let out is intended to be one of irritation, of shock, but instead it comes out laced with throaty pleasure. Damn Steve Rogers and the size of his hands, his strength, his intimate knowledge of everything that makes your pussy throb and your walls crumble for him and only him.

He may have you deliciously and physically restrained, but you’re still more than upset he didn’t want a taste of what you’ve brought to him, a taste of this. But he still hasn’t covered your mouth, and you’re not quite done pushing his buttons.

“Daddy loves it when my mouth is wide open. Right, Daddy? Didn’t you say something like that last night?”

You rarely speak to him this way, goading and aggressive, and you momentarily question whether or not you’re crossing a line. That is, until you feel his cock dig into the cushion of your ass cheek, the grind unintentional if his grumble turned bitten-off groan tells you anything. Perfect— you’ve just figured out how to help improve your boyfriend’s mood.

You roll your ass back into his cock, swirl your hips back against his bulge.

With a snarl, he flips you, tosses you onto your back onto his desk.

Goddamn. You pause for a moment to take note of how fucking hot Steve is when he’s angry. It’s different when it’s at you, you see this now. You’ve witnessed his anger directed at others, but you’ve not once been on the receiving end of it. Maybe you should make him angry more often.

His chest heaves as he looks down at you, stormy eyes slow to rake over your surely flushed body, a normally slicked-back lock of hair curling over his forehead. The tattoos that lace the column of his throat seem more pronounced with his open collar and his heaving chest. There isn’t a stray beard hair in sight, the salt and pepper hairs trimmed close to his skin. The pause drags on for a few seconds more and you almost feel the need to heel and spread your legs and to give in. But that’s not what Steve needs.

Instead you spread your legs and bring the point of your heel up to dig into his shoulder.

He visibly grits his teeth as he gazes down hotly at you, his hands coming to grip your waist tight enough to make you wince. But you don’t break eye contact, even as he leans into your heel, even as he digs it further into his shoulder. Fuck, you’re in love with this man.

“You think Bucky would tell me to keep my mouth closed?” you whisper without shame, leaning up onto your elbows to drive the point home. “You think he’d appreciate me coming into his office in his favorite pair of panties of mine, just about begging to be fucked?”

It’s harsh, yes, but you’re still upset and you have a job to complete; you’re not a quitter. And it pays off immediately when Steve all but growls, “You think he can give you somethin’ I can’t?”

Perfect.

You dig your foot into his chest with a hard shove.

“No.”

You can’t see the confusion in Steve’s features but you know it’s there. He can stay light on his feet all he wants but you’re hard to keep up with, you know this.

Dropping your foot from his shoulder, you wrap both of them around his waist, damn near yanking him towards you. The impressive bulge in his pants is hard as steel and you whimper softly yet unashamedly when it grinds in tight against your panty-covered pussy, eyes still on his. Feeling his need for you, it’s easy for the anger to slightly clear and for you to finally consider the kind of day he’s had, that he needs you to prove to him that this is part of your purpose as his partner.

“No, he can’t, Steven,” you sternly tell him, voice low yet demanding as you reach for the collar of his shirt, tugging. “No one can give me what you can give me.”

A spark of a flame reaches his eyes then, hitting him right where it counts, right in that possessive bone in his body. You speak into his mouth, his warm breath on your tongue causing your chest to constrict.

“But if you want to be a dick about me showing up looking hot as fuck, showing up just so you can fuck me and go about your day as the boss, then yes— I’m gonna tease you about someone else appreciating me”

Steve rolls his hips slowly, deeply, rumbles as he rakes his hands up your torso to palm roughly at your breasts over your bra, your nipples pebbling immediately. He pinches them both before his hands are moving on. You hiss, clit throbbing at the rough attention.

“You’re a real fuckin’ piece’a work. You know that?”

You dig your heels into his back when you huff, brazenly nipping at his chin.

“Of course I know that. Now, fuck me, Daddy. Take it out on me, use me to feel better. Come on.”

Steve never needs to be told twice; he’s a man of action. He takes full advantage of being told he has complete access to your body, reaching for the strings of your panties and ripping them down your legs carelessly.

“Of fucking course you wore the stockings. Knew from the moment you walked in here. With these on, you’re up to no fuckin’ good.”

He grabs and squeezes at handfuls of your thighs as he speaks and you finally cave and give into the moment with a whine, head falling back onto the desk. Steve shoves your legs apart in the air around his body, his hand coming down tightly over your bare pussy, first one time and then a few smacks after that. Fuck. The sting of it is exactly what you want, what this moment is worthy of, and you clench desperately around nothing in response.

“Motherfucker,” you damn near snarl, and where you’d normally spread your legs further and pout, you try your hardest to pull them tightly closed. Steve needs a fight, needs to burn off more energy than a normal fuck will provide him with. He proves you right once more when he pries your legs apart, uses a kind of force that you rarely see. You’re no match for his strength. Your legs are barely pressed together for two seconds before he’s got them spread yet again with a growl.

You barely get out a hiss of “Yes,” before he’s draped over you, mouth latching onto your neck. It’s so much. In your head you hadn’t got as far as this, your plan only reaching up to you convincing Steve to have his way with you, and even that hadn’t gone as planned. You hadn’t considered how difficult it would be to keep your goal and purpose in the forefront of your mind while Steve actively ravaged your body.

His mouth is brutal on your neck, the press of teeth and the suction of lips enough to leave you gasping, your hands making weak attempts at pushing him away. You feel him reach between your bodies and fumble with his belt, the zipper of his pants, and you force out an impatient noise to rile him up further.

“Come on, Daddy— give it to me,” you murmur, reaching around to dig your hands into his ass. “Show this little pussy why you’re her Daddy, why you own her.”

“Fuckin’ hell, kitten…”

He brings his hand up to his mouth, collects spit on a few of his fingers, brings them back down to his cock. He doesn’t slam his way inside of you, and while he ensures you aren’t in unwanted pain, that first deep slide is enough to shove you halfway to your climax already. The girth of him never fails to take your breath away, to send you sailing into orbit.

His deep and appreciative groan is enough to have made all of this shit worth it, the chaos that was this almost failed attempt at providing your boyfriend with stress relief. It’s also enough to send you that much closer to your orgasm.

There is no difference between the pushiness and aggression leading up to this point and this moment; Steve fucks you with unabashed emotion and need. You aren’t used to this, this sort of raw need, this force. The walls of your pussy strain to take him, to adjust. The sensation of Steve on top of you, between your legs, the whole weight of him pressing you into his desk, being selfish is foreign.

Where Steve is usually smooth and focused and giving, this version of him is anything but.

He isn’t concerned about you for a second, not your pleasure or your feelings. His hands delve up into your hair, the both of them, twisting them as he fucks roughly up into your pussy, grinding and rolling and humping. He holds you where he wants you, restricts your movements and keeps you where he can best get his dick soaked. It’s a form of bliss you’ve not once experienced, and your shared eye contact, this heavy gaze he refuses to break, makes you choke on a sob.

“Fuck it,” you bite out against his mouth, barely able to hear your words over the rush of blood in your ears, over the sound of him fucking into you with abandon. “You fuck that pussy like no one else can, Daddy. That’s Daddy’s pussy.”

Steve curses. Even as you say the words, you feel them directly in your clit, the throb of them intense. The forceful grinds with every other thrust presses the base of Steve’s cock tight against your clit, each one making you choke down a whimper. You’re shaking where you lay, nails digging encouragingly into the meat of Steve’s ass, legs spread wide, knees pressed back towards your shoulders. Steve has full access to you, as he deserves. The glide of him is sublime, the stretch of him enough to leave you panting, in and out, in and out.

Your pussy feels so good being used the way that it is. You can’t catch your breath.

You aren’t the least bit surprised when your orgasm tears through you.

“Oh shit, that’s yours, that’s Daddy’s. That pussy comes for Daddy, all for—”

“Jesus Christ, you’re gonna milk me fuckin’ dry. Haven’t even been inside’a you for a minute and you’re fallin’ apart.”

You openly sob, tears springing to your eyes as the sensitive walls of your pussy suck Steve in, flutter and pulse around his girth. He doesn’t stop, cock digging into that sweet spot inside of you, movement prolonging your orgasm as you groan. Your pussy is so wet you can feel it soaking the inside of your thighs, the base of Steve’s cock.

You have half the mind to note that your plan is working, that Steve is finding his footing again, that he’s confident and feeling dominant, in charge. You can’t hold back your lax smile, and the way Steve all but scoffs at the sight of it makes you turn your face and reach for his teeth with your jaw.

“Surely that’s not all you’ve got,” you hear yourself pant shakily, your voice and the way your limbs tremble betraying you in an instant. “Come on, big daddy— show ‘em why you’re the boss.”

He’s climbing onto the desk, still inside you, without a second thought.

“Yes, yes—”

“Un-fucking-believable…”

The smile that’s spread across your face is only present for a few seconds before you’re biting it away, Steve’s hands in your hair moving, one curling to scruff you by the nape of your neck. The other tears at your bra, impatiently ripping one cup down, your breast spilling out and into his waiting hand. He squeezes at you roughly, fingers smacking down tightly over your nipple.

Your head bounces with his thrusts, only to be pulled back by Steve’s hand on your nape. He uses you like a doll, like a toy. It all makes you want to scream: the new angle allowing for Steve to fuck messiliy into you, the complete physical dominance, the animalistic noises Steve continues to let out, how wet and wrecked you feel and sound. It’s enough for tears to begin to stream down your face.

Looking back, you’ll surely blame it on how startlingly emotional you became as he fucked you mercilessly, how unprepared you were for your body and mind’s reactions. You may blame it on how cockdrunk you are, how out of your mind the feeling of Steve dicking you down so thoroughly made you.

You raise your hand and bring it down hard across his cheek.

The crack of it is so shocking to you, both in sound and sensation on your palm, that you gasp raggedly. The moment seems to have called for it, such harsh treatment, but you hold your breath when Steve grunts, hips stilling, eyes wild when his head snaps back down to look at you.

When he doesn’t say anything, you whimper, your whimper easily turning into a hiccup, too nervous to speak.

He punches his hips forward, silencing you with the stretch of him, with feeling him up in your guts. You blink back your tears as you bite down onto your lip.

“Again,” he finally rasps out, the hand on your nape slipping around to the front of your throat, squeezing. “Fuckin’ hit me again, kitten.”

That’s it for the both of you.

Your opposite hand is up in the air and you do what you can to bring it down onto Steve’s other cheek with another sob, all while he fucks into you so roughly your body scrapes across his desk with every thrust. The smack is sloppy and only slightly makes contact with his jaw, but it’s enough to send the two of you hurtling towards your orgasms.

Yours is so blinding it almost hurts, the way it bursts from your center and outwards. You can’t make a noise, a scream lodged in your throat, body making a valiant attempt at arching up into Steve’s own, shaking. You lay there and take your climax, let Daddy rob it from your body, drink it up.

You know he’s coming by the way he squeezes your throat and bites out a gritty, “Fuck.”

“You better think twice about comin’ into my office and teasin’ me with your pussy again, little girl,” he pants into your ear, voice rougher than you’ve ever heard it to be, just able to cut through the fog in your mind. “Fuck, you wanna come up into my office tellin’ me you’re gonna go let somebody else have what’s mine?”

There’s not an ounce of fight left in you as your pussy continues to pulse and quiver around his cock, as you lay there splayed for him, taking his load.

“No, no! It’s Daddy’s, s’daddy’s pussy, all for Daddy. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Daddy. I’m—”

You’re babbling nonsense, the roll of Steve’s hips not slowing, the stroke of his cock along your inner walls making you dizzy. Your voice has turned nasally, small and whiny, just like Daddy likes it. Steve’s hand trembles around your neck. You can feel his come leak out of you, how messy you feel as he continues to fuck into you, hips slowing but not halting like you’re used to.

“No,” he groans, shaking his head, his lips smearing messily against your cheek, your jaw. “You’ve got nothin’ to be sorry for, baby. You know me so fuckin’ well, know just what your Daddy needs. You’re perfect, fuck, a perfect goddamn angel.”

Euphoria.

There’s nothing else he could have said that would make you feel the way you do now. You’re pushing overstimulation, thighs trembling around Steve’s waist, chest heaving as you’re left sucking air into your lungs. Your body and mind have been sent to hell and back and you didn’t realize how badly you wanted to hear Steve reassure you that this was okay, that everything you’ve done and said was acceptable.

You pull him down to you with another hitch in your breath, fingers slipping through his hair, arms winding around his neck.

He begins to litter your face with kisses once he finally does slow and eventually stops the slide of his cock, hissing, body settling down onto your own with a heaving sigh. The weight of him is hefty but welcomed, the reminder of his sturdiness something that you let settle into your bones.

“Don’t be sorry, kitten. I won’t allow it. Not after that.”

You hum.

“So bossy,” is all you murmur into his beard, your legs slipping down the backs of his own, holding him close.

“I’m pretty sure you were just tellin’ me to prove I was the boss, so…”

You merely harrumph in response; you’re done arguing for the day, possibly the week.

After a few blessed, silent moments of breathing and coming down from your shared high together, you begin to let a sense of accomplishment slip through your mind. You were brought in to help, to bring Steve out of his head and to improve his mood and therefore the mood of everyone else in his presence. You’ve made a difference, have helped your Daddy, were thoroughly dicked down in the process. And even though this was more emotionally heavy than you anticipated, you feel good.

“I’m sorry,” Steve eventually breaks the silence with, pulling his head back in order to look you in the eyes as he apologizes. He always has to look you in the eyes when you’re sharing serious words. Communication is something he values highly, your constant honesty with one another a must for him and in turn you. In his line of work, how he spends his days, he can’t risk the two of you not being on the same page.

He kisses your lips softly, his hands slipping through your hair.

“I’m sorry for not giving you the attention you deserved when you walked in here, baby.”

You shake your head. “I should have been more cognizant of your mood and how your day has gone. I’m sorry too.”

He kisses you again, once and then twice, lips soft and gentle with your own.

“What I’m not going to apologize for,” he whispers then, voice deep and mischievous, “is everything that led up to you smackin’ me.”

You giggle, first softly and then louder as Steve grips your chin and doesn’t let you shy away from his eye contact. He nips at your chin.

“Fuck, sweetheart. Where the hell did that come from?”

“I don’t know! I…it just felt right. I’m so—”

“Nope,” he cuts you off quickly, nose nudging your own. “No apologizing, I already said that. You’re perfect. I’m serious— this was just what I needed.”

You sigh into his next set of kisses, exhaustion slowly seeping into your bones.

“Well, you’ll have to thank Bucky for this later.”

“I will do no such thing.”

He slips from your body then, motioning for you to stay where you are and to not move. You don’t think you could sit up without help. He comes back from the adjacent bathroom looking everything provider and Alpha and Daddy, slacks buttoned and white shirt tucked into them. He cleans you off with a warm washcloth, puts the pieces of your sexy getup that are out of place back to where they belong. His hands linger on your thighs, stroking at the softness of your stockings.

He touches you with such gentleness and care. It’s so different from the touches he gave you just moments before, the ones you can feel growing sore already.

“I love you,” you find yourself whispering once he’s pulled you into a sitting position on his desk, taking a seat behind it in his chair. He pulls you easily to the edge, takes both of your hands into his own, brings them each to his lips.

“I love you as well, sweetheart,” he purrs, hands moving to grip at your hips, to pull at them like he does when he’s feeling ready for another round. Surely he isn’t, not after that. He leans forward, kisses the top of each of your breasts.

“I was rough on you wasn’t I, kitten? Gonna have to make it up to her later, get my mouth on her and give her kisses to—”

Bucky doesn’t even knock when he enters the office, walks right in as if it’s his own. He doesn’t care that you’re practically naked, that you’ve obviously been fucked to the edge of your life, that the two of your are surely flushed and marked enough to prove what you’ve just been spending your time doing. He walks right up to Steve’s desk, hands in his pockets, casual.

“You missed the show, Buck,” Steve grumbles, pulling you closer and gathering you into his lap, not wanting your near naked body to be seen by his right hand man. As if he hasn’t seen it before. Bucky whistles low, throws a wink over your way that you catch over your shoulder.

“Oh, no no no,” Bucky rumbles knowingly. “I don’t think anyone in this house missed that show…Daddy.”

#howdoyousleep kinktober 2022 #my writing #howdoyousleep #mafia daddy steve #mafia daddy steve and reader #put your loving hand out #female reader #reader insert #this one barely got posted lol #these beans y'all! time and attention suckers!#(i'm joking yet v serious)

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icamefromthepinterestscreenshots · 2 months

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CW: child whumper (sidekick), mentions of previous abuse. (If you find any more CWs I’ve missed, please tell me!)

Villain was feeling great. Todays plan had gone perfectly and now hero’s own sidekick was tied to a chair in front of them. Poor sidekick probably had no idea where they were, Villain smirked.

‘I bet your praying hero is going to show up and save you. I assure you they won’t. They don’t even know where my lair is; besides, do you really think they’ll go through all the effort just to save their stupid little sidekick who got themselves kidnapped?’

Sidekick was shaking. Terrified. Now completely at the villains mercy, their identity was going to be revealed, they just knew it. And then it wouldn’t just be sidekick that will die, but their loved ones too. Hero has told sidekick about villain. Sidekick knew villain was a ruthless killer. Their fear mixed with their guilt for having endangering not only themselves but their friends too. Hero would be so disappointed in sidekick. Villain was right, hero would never bother to save them. It was their own fault that they had messed up and gotten themselves kidnapped.

Villain crouched down and reached out to sidekicks face-

‘Let’s see who’s under this disguise- which I must say, is rather pathetic. Could you not have come up with a better costume for yourself?’, villain joked.

-Sidekick flinched away, but villain swiftly grabbed sidekicks mask and roughly pulled it off their face.

‘I bet you’re-‘,

The villains grin dropped along with their stomach. This was not what they were expecting. Rage shook through villain. Sidekicks face showed nothing but absolute fear.

‘A child. You’re just a child’

Villains face softened as they tried to hide their anger from the kid that sat before them. Hero had sent a child to fight them. A child. How could hero do this? And who was responsible for sidekicks black eye? Villain knew it wasn’t them. Was it hero? When villain got their hands on them-

But that could be dealt with later. Villain needed to focus on the terrified face in front of them.

‘I’m not a child. I’m 15’

‘Who told you that was old? Was it hero? You can’t even drink yet, darling. You’re a child.

And to be clear, I am not going to hurt you. I know hero’s probably told you horrible lies about me, but I can assure you, they’re not true… at least most of them aren’t true. But I would never intentionally hurt a child’

Sidekick was shocked by the softness of villains voice, which was completely different from the roughness it had been filled with 2 seconds ago. It was just an act. It had to be. Sure, hero could be harsh to sidekick, but sidekick deserved it right? Hero was just training sidekick.

‘Are you hungry? Injured? Let me patch you up’

Villain gently brushed sidekicks hair out their face to get a better look at the purple bruises forming on their forehead. Sidekick flinched away from the hand, letting out a small whimper.

That was it. Villain vowed they would destroy hero next time they saw them. But first, they have got to help the poor kid.

————————————————————————————————

This was my first time writing something like this, so any feedback and help would be appreciated. In fact, it think this is the first time I’ve written a story outside an English lesson (which I haven’t done as a subject since GCSE’s) since I wrote a short Harry Potter headcanon when I was 12 lol. I still remember that headcanon tho, and I’m pretty sure it might still be on tumblr somewhere 🫡

#child sidekick #villain and child hero #villain and child sidekick #evil hero #whump writing #I am terrible at grammar feel free to point out any mistakes I made (also I sincerely apologise lol)#whump #villain x sidekick #hero x villain #caretaker #caretaker villain #idk what else to tag #idk what im doing #in case anyone was wondering the headcanon was about teddy tonks sneaking into headmistress mcginagalks office to look at memories #of his parents in the pensieve

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sirianasims · 4 months

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Chapter 26

Love Me Anyway

“Welcome back, Eric, doctor Holland is ready to see you.”

“Thank you, mr. Holland.”

“Hello, Eric. How have you been doing since last time? You’re still staying sober?”

“Yeah. I think I’m doing pretty well, actually. I mean, it’s still rough sometimes, but I mostly struggle when I’m alone for too long. And my neighbours check up on me regularly and invite me over for dinner, and my parents call me at least twice a week.”

“That’s good. And the antidepressants seem to be working too – do you want to try lowering the dose a little?”

“I don’t know… actually, no. It doesn’t feel… safe. Not yet. I really don’t want to relapse.”

“Understandable. We won’t touch them yet, then. How’s your daughter?”

“Oh, Freya’s great! She’s doing well in school, she plays football and basketball and wants to go back to Mt. Komorebi so she can snowboard again. But the best thing is, I just finished renovating the house – and she got a new bedroom!”

“Her mother and I finally agreed that I’m doing well enough that she’s comfortable with Freya living with me every other weekend.”

“That’s wonderful news, Eric! I’m happy for you. You deserve it, you’ve worked very hard in the last year. What about your job then?”

“Well, I’m still running the clinic alone, and it’s hard, but it also means I’m too exhausted to lie awake for too long at night, so I guess that’s positive. I’m still debating whether to hire a nurse or a vet. But I promise that it will be a man either way.”

“Good. I don’t usually approve of hiring someone based on gender, but I don’t think it’s wise for you to be working too closely with women just yet. You still have some work to do.”

“I know. It gets lonely, though. I mean, I haven’t… been intimate with anyone for almost a year now. Not since the vacation to Mt. Komorebi.”

“I know. And I’m no stranger to mixing love and work – after all, my husband is my receptionist. But until you’ve dealt with your tendency to use sex as a distraction, I think it’s better this way. Have you given some thought to what we talked about last time, about figuring out what you really want?”

“I’m trying. It’s just… I thought I already knew, right? I had everything planned out since I was a teenager, so there was never any doubt or insecurity to deal with. And then I met Katherine and suddenly my carefully planned future looked completely impossible. I felt lost.”

“You were still able to graduate and start a vet clinic, though. That was part of your plan, right?”

“Yes, but it just didn’t… quite live up to my expectations, I guess? My plans hadn’t involved Freya or her mother at all, so everything felt wrong. And I couldn’t even bond with my daughter at first, it was horrible. I didn’t know how to deal with it, I just tried to escape it all like a coward.”

“Don’t be too hard on yourself, Eric. You were only 23, you had a lot to deal with, and postpartum depression in men is woefully under-diagnosed, I’m afraid. But now that you’re doing better, what are your long-term goals? What do you want out of life? What about finding love?”

“Love?”

“Yes, love! I’m not going to force you to be celibate forever, Eric. So what do you want? Do you want to fall in love? Do you want to get married? Have more children?”

“I… yes? I think I do. I’ve just tried not to think about it, not since – I had an ex once, we really had something special but we broke up when we went to different universities. Then one day she came into my clinic, and I remembered how I always wanted to find true love and get married and all that. But I’d just had Freya at the time, and… things turned out differently.”

“Eric, listen. You’re what, 31 now? Take it from me, I’m twice your age, and your life is far from over. You have plenty of time to fall in love again, get married, have as many children as you want.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Well, that’s all for today, Eric. Keep working on your goals. I’ll see you in two weeks, and remember – no women, no booze.”

“No women, no booze. Thanks, doctor Holland.”

“Same time in two weeks, Eric?”

“That’d be great, mr. Holland. Thank you.”

I left feeling strange. I often felt relieved or exhausted after a therapy session, but this time I felt… excited? Scared? Maybe a bit of both. I hadn’t allowed myself to even consider getting into a relationship for a long time.

Was I even able to fall in love? I loved my parents and my daughter, but I couldn’t even imagine romantic love any longer.

beginning / previous / next

#duchellilegacy #duchellichapters #duchelligen3 #eric duchelli #freya duchelli #this boy needs so much therapy #like so much

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herrlindemann · 8 months

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Sonic Seducer - 2015, Interview with Till

"Rammstein is my life. My job, my family."

Sometimes a man's gotta do what a man's gotta do. A truism that no one knows as well as Till Lindemann. For more than twenty years, the 52-year-old muscle man has been playing as Rammstein's frontman on records, stage and paper with the Neue Deutsche Härte-Feuer - after several postponements, the time has finally come: with his solo debut 'Skills In Pill’s announced at the beginning of the year will be released in mid-June, the most discussed album of the year!

Outside of the limelight, Till Lindemann tends to be the introverted, taciturn type who likes to avoid public appearances and feels much more comfortable in the rough wilderness night fishing than on red celebrity carpets. After one or the other time in the recent past at least raised eyebrows - on the one hand through the rather bizarre guest appearance of pop singer Heino during the last Rammstein show at Wacken Open Air 2013, on the other hand through Lindemann's songwriting work for Roland Kaiser's new album, also keep your fan base in suspense with the collaboration with Hypocrisy/Pain mastermind Peter Tägtgren: On the joint album 'Skills In Pills' Till Lindemann rolls his enigmatic lyrics in English throughout and thus causes divided reactions within the metal World.

«Writing in English is a kind of a new start,» says Till Lindemann, explaining his discovered affinity for foreign languages. « A whole new field in which I can let off steam. It has become very difficult to write German texts today because I have already said almost everything in some form. Everything has already been covered. With Lindemann I'm starting from scratch lyrically. Free choice! An unplayed place waiting to be deflowered. »

The themes dealt with by Lindemann on 'Skills In Pills' don't really differ that drastically from those in his Rammstein texts or his two previously published books: Dark passions, the curse and blessing of various pills, and of course sex in all conceivable ways or form. This time, however, not in German, but with a double dose of deep black humor. « At first I wasn't so sure if the lyrics were really good because they came together so easily. It was too easy compared to the German texts. At Rammstein, six people work in their designated areas. Everyone has their place and their fixed area that they work on. However, you still have to reconcile six different opinions. Of course, this is not always entirely without complications. Nevertheless, we of course also learned a lot from each other. »

Knowledge that Lindemann brings to his solo project today. Until recently, the Berliner focused almost exclusively on his work with the Berlin pyro-metallers, but his urge to express himself seems to become stronger and more unpredictable with each passing year.

« I think it's normal to express yourself in different ways over the years. When you're young and you start a band, you put all your energy into that band. Music, stage shows, artwork, everything. Today everything is better divided so that each of us can concentrate our energies elsewhere. I can already say that this project will be a big part of Peter's and my future together, but my priority will always remain Rammstein. Rammstein is my life. My job, my family. I spend my vacation from this family with Peter. »

Holiday fun with a difference: With loud widescreen guitars, electronic programming and dark, erotic doom prose - switching off in Lindemann style. « It was also nice to travel up to the countryside to see Peter again and again. It only takes about three hours from Berlin and you're there. I visited him 20 or 25 times; even if sometimes it was just for a day. Sometimes he called and said I needed to come in for a quick recording. Then I quickly got on the plane and was there straight away. »

The result of these spontaneous excursions can be heard in the form of the Lindemann debut 'Skills In Pills' from June 19th, 2015. The continuation of the interview with Till Lindemann and Peter Tägtgren can be found in the next issue.

#till lindemann #lindemann #rammstein #2015 #interview #translation #*scans #*#thanks to ramjohn for the scans!

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armed-with-a-waffle-iron · 6 months

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Bat Family— Star Trek AU💫.

"Captain’s log, Stardate 688 09.9:

4 weeks in the big chair and it still takes me an extra second to remember it’s my final orders the bridge waits on. Today, my chatty science officer even told me “careful, Grayson; even a small leak can sink a great ship”. I told the kid I’d make sure to put it in my log so here it is.

It has been only 6 weeks since the so-called “New Gods” attacked the Federation, and the Long Shadows and its brave, young crew are not just grieving the loss of their captain but one of our world’s finest…;a man whom, despite our rocky history, I saw as a brother. Aboard the Federation’s lead emergency and rescue vessel, our crew is, on a daily, reckoning with the fallout of the final crisis in the Alpha Quadrant and the power vacuum left in its wake. Firefighting aside, our crew is also adapting, rather hurriedly, to the musical chairs in both senior and junior staff.

I began my career on the bridge of this fateful ship and somehow I always find my way back to it. It wasn’t long ago that I was a small, cocky, upstart ensign, masking tragedy with a smile. I was just lucky that my captain saw something he liked in me. “I’ll be head monkey before you know it” I used to tell Bruce and, cruelly, that was closer to the truth than I could have imagined. It’s strange how much of an imposter I feel in his chair— my chair now. Just weeks ago, I was commanding the Big Apple, which gives me more pleasure than I can say but…this— this ship is different; Bruce made it his and to take over as their captain? I should know more than anyone; the show must go on. I’ve spent too much time treating this role as a memorial. It’s time to properly redefine the role as my own. Life’s a carnival and it’s time I take the stage.

My first act as captain was appointing Ens. Wayne as my chief science officer; the very role I served under his father when I was an ensign no older than him. This may raise eyebrows but, while I can’t always excuse the kid’s abrasiveness and pride, I want it on record that I have my full confidence in his abilities. Ens. Wayne is a determined and focused officer whose brilliant thinking has already saved dozens of lives. Any sniff of bigotry regarding his Romulan heritage, on and off this ship, will be dealt with directly by me. And Miss Brown. He’s a diamond in the rough but I expect the rest of my seasoned bridge crew to rub off on him. There’s something written in the stars about a captain and their science officer, and there’s no one on this crew as ready as Damian to begin a new chapter in their story; we’re gonna be a hell of a duo.

I have worked closely with Counselor Brown since she returned to The Shadows from service on the medical vessel Katavi. Miss Brown is inspiringly driven. She’s a practiced medic though an unconventional choice for a counselor but I’m sure she’d take that as a compliment. She has a magnetic charm and a gift for connecting with others, and is a savvy diplomat when she remembers to not to think aloud. She was always prone to the odd risk, especially when lives are on the line in the field, though it’s safe to say that she never runs out of ideas. “If I was gonna play by the book, I’d have never left Earth,” she told me recently. Dr. Pennyworth claims she reminds him of…well, me but I don’t know, I don’t really see it. Perhaps the lines between bravery and recklessness are blurrier than I thought, and maybe every starship needs medics and counselors with Miss Brown’s unyielding dedication to the wellbeing of others.

It’s been a… a pleasure to serve alongside Cmdr. Gordon again, after almost 2 years. Sometimes it is…a lot to share a bridge with someone who’s known you so inti— known you for so long. Especially when tensions are high. Nonetheless, there is no one on this ship I trust more to set me straight if need be. In fact, there may be no one on this ship I trust more. This ship would have never left its dock if we didn’t have Cmdr. Gordon in charge of operations. Barbara’s truly the ship’s 411— if there were two of her, I’d opt to retire the ship’s computer. She’s a born leader; also responsible for the appointment of half of my senior bridge staff and she comfortably takes the big chair when required. We’ve always made a great team, which will mean a few clashes and compromises too. To whoever it may concern, we’ll keep things professional this time, I promise…

Lt. Cmdr. Bertinelli is a stellar security chief and it’s in these uncertain times that her very own Atlas of Organised Crime is consulted significantly, on and off this ship. I’ll admit that the two of us haven’t had the smoothest of working— or personal— relationships in the past but “the past” is all it is. I’m happy to call Helena one of my greatest allies— and friends. It’s been lovely to see someone so solitary find a family on board this ship. I may not always see eye-to-eye with Cmdr. Bertinelli but I have no qualms in saying that she would be a captain by now if Star Fleet tribunal and their rulings against her weren’t riddled with rigid hierarchies and double standards.

My 1st Officer, Lt. Cmdr. Kane, certainly knows how to run a tight ship. She has made it clear that she thinks mine lacks a little discipline and caution. Her security background really shows and we definitely have different styles in leadership but hopefully the Shadows can get the best out of both worlds. In her words; “this ship is facing a different breed of threat and disaster every day, so it needs a different breed of crew”. She’s happy to take the bridge when an away team is needed so she’s probably spent more time in the captain’s chair than I have by now.

Lt. Cmdr. Montoya was an instrumental player in Star Fleet’s response to the final crisis and she is determined to honour the memory of the late Mr. Sage, whose post she has assumed. She’s a veteran investigator who’s quickly learning the ropes to service aboard a starship and she already sets a high bar on scouting and espionage assignments. Cmdr.s Kane, Montoya and Bertinelli, form a simply excellent criminal investigation team, although I won’t pretend to understand their more personal relationships with each other.

Doctor Pennyworth, as he was before, has been my rock. He’s the heart of this ship, and he does a solid job at keeping its crew alive and well. The Shadows just isn’t the Shadows without him.

It’s no secret how hard Lt. Drake is taking Capt. Wayne’s passing— his regular counselling sessions with Miss Brown too often end in a screaming match in the hallway. For the record, I stand by my decision to give Mr. Drake’s bridge posting to Ens. Wayne and put Mr. Drake in charge of engineering. The Ensign is a real prodigy and needs this show of good faith while Mr. Drake, who has been a brilliant science officer to Capt. Wayne for almost 4 years, deserved the chance to step out of his old captain’s shadow. Nonetheless, our relationship has soured since I, in his words, “kicked him off my bridge” but that is not to say I don’t have the utmost faith in his performance as our new chief engineer.

Lt. Cain has been distant…let me rephrase that— Lt. Cain has been taken to self-isolating since the captain’s passing. Counselor Brown says sometimes she’ll go almost an entire counseling session without saying a word. Funny enough, when I suggested joint sessions with Mr. Drake, the counselor told me to get out of her office. Babs— Cmdr. Gordon, sorry, insists Miss Cain will come around in time; she knows she is among dear friends. She continues to be reliable and cool under pressure at the ship’s helm, adept at assignments in zero-G, and a clinical melee fighter when it’s called for. Yesterday, I suggested that she also head combat training down at security and she smiled, so maybe she will take up that offer.

On a ship so aptly named, it’s hard to forget that old sins cast long shadows. We now reckon with both old foes and threats unforeseen, which place the now vulnerable Federation in jeopardy and expose the cracks in its facade. It’s almost as if the ship herself questions how well we learn from history, and how history will remember us."

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dc-marvel-life · 1 year

Text

My Only Love

Anon ask: Can you write a fan fic about Jason x reader where they first met then slowly fall in love Maybe some fluff?

Pairing: Jason Todd x reader

Warnings: Two curse word

Word Count: 1926

A/N: These are old requests that I found on my computer, so I thought about doing them again. It’s the start of me coming back. Y/N/N - Your nickname

You are in Wayne Manor’s garden living your best life waiting on the love of your life to share some exciting news with him. You couldn’t imagine that you would be living this life many years ago; it was like it was yesterday.

You just ran away from your abusive house and it was your first time on the streets just at the age of 12. You already lived in a rough part of the neighborhood, but now it will be a little more complicated because you didn’t have a roof over your head. You found an alleyway to spend your nights and during the days, you go to school and come back to beg for money. You never were able to get much money, but enough to let you eat one meal a day.

After a month on the street, you got used to the lifestyle and make the most of it. There were other runway kids on the street which you would hang out with for company. You were making the most out of the situation that you were dealt with.

One night you were out late because it was getting colder outside and you needed more blankets. You were going through some trash to find some old blankets then you heard a man come behind you.

“Hey little girl, I saw that you got some money today,” the strange man said then pulls out a gun, “give me the money,” he says pointing the gun at you. You were too scared to move, you have seen guns before but this time it is pointed right at you. Then out of nowhere a young boy comes with a crowbar and hits the man with the gun in the arm. The man drops the gun and the boy picks it up.

“Leave the girl alone or I’ll shoot you,” The boy says and the man runs away.

“You need to be more careful out here at night,” The boy says.

“I know but it’s getting too cold and I don’t have enough blankets to sleep outside, but thank you. My name is Y/N” you say.

“Nice to meet you Y/N, my name is Jason. Do you live on the streets?” Jason asks.

“Yes I do, I had to get out of a bad situation,” you say and Jason looks sad. He tells you to follow him and you do without thinking because, for some reason, you trust him. He takes you a few blocks down to a house. He tells you to wait outside and you do. After a couple of minutes, he comes out with about three blankets.

“Here you go so you don’t get too cold at night. I would let you stay at my place, but my place isn’t any good” Jason says while giving you the blankets. You gladly take the blankets and go out to your alley to have a warm night's sleep. Every day since your first night meeting, Jason comes to see you. He would bring you different things every time. Sometimes he brings food, money, or just small talk. After a few months, you guys become close friends and he would make sure no one will mess if you.

You knew that Jason got money from stealing or petty crimes, but it didn’t matter to you because you knew why he was stealing. Every night you were worried because something bad could happen, you never know in Gotham. Then one day, he just stop showing up to see you. At first, you just thought he was just busy and had something else to do. After a couple of days of him not showing up, you decided that you were going out to look for him. You went out during the night because it was the only time you had because of school. You went to the house that he took you to the first time you met him. You knock on the door and no one answers. It was weird because you can see the light on and hear movement inside, but you guess that he just didn’t want to see you.

You start to walk back to your alley, then you feel like someone is watching you. You put your head down and walk faster, but you hit your head on a pole and fall down. You hear someone coming down from the building in front of you.

“Are you okay?” Jason says and you look at him to see him in a robin outfit.

“Why are you in a robin outfit, Jason?” you say ignoring that you just ran into a pole and he seems shocked.

“How do you know it is me?” Jason says then wraps his hands around your waist. He takes out a grappling hook and you both go up to the top of the buildings. Once you are at the top, he takes off his mask.

“Of course I know it was you, you are my best friend,” you say and Jason gives you a hug. He then explains to you what happened to him over the past few days. You promise to keep it a secret from anyone. After that day, Jason started to see you every day again in your alley. It was the best part of your day. After a while, Bruce was getting suspicious when Jason kept leaving every day so he followed him to you. Bruce felt sorry for you, so he gave you home with them. At first, you didn’t know if you should go with him, but then Jason looked at you and said that everything is going to be okay. Once Jason said that you accepted Bruce’s offer

Jason was so happy that you accepted Bruce’s offer because he knows that you are safe now and doesn’t have to worry that much. Over time Jason and you got closer by doing almost everything together. Bruce, Alfred, and Dick would always watch you guys and place bets when you will get together.

Over the years, you and Jason started to grow up together and you started to get feelings for him. You have never told him because you are afraid that he is going to say no. Little did you know at the time, Jason was having the same feelings for you. None of you acted on those feeling but they just kept on growing.

After a while, you knew that you loved Jason and you wanted to tell him how you feel. He was about to leave on a mission, and you stopped him.

“I need to tell you something important Jason before you leave,” you say to him.

“I also need to tell you something important too. I want to do it right so can we talk once I get back” Jason says with his amazing smile. You nod your head and he heads out for the night. You go to your room and wait for him to come back. A few hours later you hear a knock on your door. You think it is Jason so you jump up and run to the door only to see Bruce. He was still in his bat suit without the mask on. It looked like he was crying for days and there was blood all over him.

Bruce didn’t need to say anything. You need what happened and cried into his arms. You cried yourself to sleep every night for a week knowing that Jason wasn’t coming back. It hurt even more since you never got the chance to tell him that you love him.

Years later you graduate high school and college. You have your own place in Gotham and work for Wayne Enterprise. Life is going in the right direction for you, you even started to date. It was something new for you because you never got over Jason and that was holding you back. You got on dating apps and forced yourself out there.

You were able to get a match within the first day and got a date for the weekend. He took you to eat at a restaurant and the date was not good. The man just didn’t pique your interest at all as Jason did. You finish your dinner and he walks your home, then you guys get robbed. Your date sees the thugs and runs away. You sigh and watch your date run away like a coward, then turn back to the thugs. You lived with Bruce Wayne most of your life, of course, you know how to defend yourself. Just when you were about to fight them, a man with a red hood comes out of nowhere and kicks their asses.

“Your date is a bitch” the man in the red hood said. It was weird because you felt like you knew the voice.

“I know he is. That’s why this was the only date we will ever go on” you say and laugh.

“Let me walk you home so I know that you are safe,” the man says and you say yes. You haven’t trusted someone this fast since Jason when you were younger. You allow the man in the red hood to walk you home and into your place. You get in and grab your favorite blanket that Jason gave you all those years ago.

“You still have that blanket huh, Y/N/N,” the man says to you. You look back in confusion because only one man knows that you have these blankets.

“Jason?!” you question the man with the red hood. Next thing you know, the man takes off the red hood to reveal a much older Jason.

“I can’t believe it’s you!? I went to your funeral! This can’t be real” you say backing up from Jason, but he comes closer to you.

“It really is me Y/N,” Jason says and hugs you. You welcome the embrace because it feels like home. Jason sits you down and explains to you want to happen to him over the years. He said that after he got full control back, he needed to see you. You felt so bad for what he had to go through for all those years but so happy that he is back in your life.

Since he got back into your life, you guys have barely spent any time apart. He stays at your place and even comes to work with you when he gets bored. All of those old feelings started to come back for Jason like when you were a teenager. You decided to tell him after all these years how you felt/feel about him. He felt the same thing way about you, and you guys start to date. After a bit, he proposes to you and says yes.

Now in the present day, you are in the Wayne manor’s garden waiting for Jason to come back with the rest of the bat-family. When they come back, they are all laughing and having a good time. Jason sees you and comes over to you.

“What are you doing here this late,” Jason says kissing you.

“I have important news for you,” you say smiling.

“What is it?” Jason asks and you smile while handing over a small box. Jason looks confused at first but opens the box to see a positive pregnancy test. Jason jumps up and down screaming that he is going to be a father. He goes around with the pregnancy test showing everyone he is going to be a father.

#Jason Todd #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagine #red hood #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #dc #DC comics #batfamily

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asshlyyyy · 1 year

Text

It's Only Love

Thank you so much for this request. I was actually writing something similar to this, and I still will. I want to try and get my request box cleared, and I really want to get back into writing.

I wanted to have this more on the happier end, considering I will have one that will be extreme sadness and angst. I hope that the comfort you wanted is present? I didn't do too much, more like... understanding and knowing Elvis.

Masterlist

Pairing: Elvis (or Austin!Elvis) x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Death, Sadness, Greif, Fluff, Spelling and Grammatical Errors Mostly Likely. Let me know if I missed any!

Word Count: 1.6k

"Could you do a fluff with Austin. Where the reader’s brother passed away and it’s his birthday and he just comforts her and they go to visit his grave"

In life, everyone had a mental priority list. If somehow you don't know what a priority list is, it is as simple as it sounds. It is a mental list that everyone has that shows who is the most important. Whom you rather be spending most of your time with. Whom you'd want to take the most care of. For some people the first person is themselves. For other people, it can be their significant other.

Your list was quite simple actually. First things first... the first person was your husband. You lived with him and breathed the same air as him twenty-four-seven. No matter his crazy ass schedule. You followed him everywhere he went, even if it meant you suffered just as much as he did. He was the love of your life, and you would do anything for him. Hell, you would risk your life if it meant saving him.

Next on your list came yourself. Just like your husband, self-care and self-health were very important. Being able to be openly available for your husband, and not have him have to deal with your own weight... just makes things quite easier. Not to mention, it's good to have a good self-care and self-love system. Because then you're less stressed, and your husband doesn't have to hold stress for you.

Third, on your list came your family. Now, this excludes your husband considering he is number one on your list. This includes the family you were born into. So, your mother... your father, and your brother. It was a small family, but it was your family. You loved them all very much. Nothing could lose your love for them. They all meant something to you and they all brought you something.

Your mother was an absolute angel. She always tended to you when you cried and made sure you knew how to understand your emotions. She also taught you how to care for others and how to understand their feelings. Your father taught you how to be tough. He taught you how to be rough. Your brother taught you almost everything else. When your parents were working, he took care of you. He taught you the things your parents didn't want to teach you.

Everyone else was below number three. Your friends, other relatives, Elvis' friends. They all appeared lower on your list. You wanted to focus your breath on people more important than those you hardly saw. Plus, you were sure that your friends were just using you at this point to get close to your husband.

A couple of weeks ago you got the worse news of your life. Your best friend, your older brother, passed away. Death affected everyone differently, and while someone like my husband can’t feel what I feel towards him, he still feels sad. He was a friend of his, and you were glad the two got along. You two were home when your mother phoned you. You broke down right there and couldn’t get the words out.

It wasn’t until later that night Elvis found out the news. So, while you dealt with the hard details of his death, Elvis took time off. He knew what it was like to lose a loved one. Especially a brother. He may have not known his, but still went through the same situation.

As you woke up, you felt your whole body fall apart. You knew what today was, and you’ve been dreading it since his passing. A birthday is a time to celebrate getting old int. Taking in a new age, but he was stuck at the age he died in. How do you celebrate something so happy, when they are no longer around? Do you just stop celebrating their birthday?

You were new to this whole death situation, and you didn’t like it. You didn’t know how you were supposed to do anything. Did you still celebrate their birthday? All these questions and you got no answers…

You stared at the ceiling blankly and shook your head. You turned to look at your husband, but instead, you just found his pillow and no body. You let out a sigh and pushed yourself up into a sitting position and heard the door open. You turned your head and watched as Elvis walked in.

“Good mornin’ darlin’.” Elvis said as he noticed you were awake.

“Morning,” you replied tiredly.

“I figured we could go to the cemetery today?” He suggested as he opened up a few of the blinds. You looked at him confused. He wanted to go to the cemetery.

“You want to go…?” You confused. He let out a hum and nodded.

“I always visit ma mama on her birthday. Figured we could visit ya, brotha.” You smile softly and nodded.

“I would love that.” You replied.

You got yourself up out of bed and made it to the closest. You two get dressed and soon you two went downstairs. You decide it would be best to eat before you two leave. Of course, you two were going to stop to get some flowers. Why wouldn’t you? You couldn’t exactly buy anything for him to use, so get him some flowers to show that you care.

“What kind of flowers do you get someone?”

“Usually ones that remind you of them.” You replied as you looked at the selection of showers the shop had. Elvis hummed and looked around also.

Elvis picked up a bouquet of flowers and looked towards you, “what about their favorite flowers?”

“That too, but when its cases like this… well… it’s always best to go with ones that remind you of them.” You replied and looked at the flowers in his hands. You smiled and nodded. You didn’t know if he picked them up on purpose or not… but either way they were perfect.

“Yeah, these remind me of him. They hold that sense of… look I’ll fucking kill ya, but I’ll also love ya.” You rolled your eyes playfully at his explanation.

You took the flowers from him, “of course they do.”

You two went to the checkout and paid for the flowers. You then made your way over to the cemetery where your brother lay for the rest of time. It wasn’t that far of a drive, but it sure felt like forever. It felt like it did so long ago. The first drive out here was a painful one, and Elvis had to make many stops.

You’re still pained by his loss, but you knew that he was still around. He was up in heaven giving his advice now to those who need it. You smiled softly as the gates appeared in front of you. Maybe today wouldn’t be as bad as you thought it would be. You had your husband by your side and your brother.

“It’s not too bad outside,” you commented as you guys came to a stop.

“Not too cold, not too hot,” Elvis replied in response. You nodded and got out of the car.

Being in a cemetery can be quite frightening. There are hundreds of dead people, and not to mention these places can be sort of like a maze at some points. Never knowing where you are, or where the person you’re looking for is. It is all one big place to get lost in.

“You ready?” Elvis looked over at you.

You nodded in response, “let’s go.”

The two of you made your way over to his grave. Being here in the cemetery reminded you just how real this was. It always feels like a fever dream, but when you’re standing here… it is reality.

“Hi Aiden,” you said softly and laid the flowers down. “Happy birthday,” you smiled weakly.

Elvis wrapped his arms around you and held you close. “Happy birthday man.”

“You would’ve been thirty today. Ya old man,” you chuckled lightly

“‘M turnin’ thirty soon.” Elvis pointed out.

“And then you’ll be an old man,” you poked his chest lightly. You pulled away from him and sat down on the grass.

“Great, just great.” You laughed gently at his reaction and shook your head.

“Elvis picked those out for you, so if you don’t like it haunt his ass.” You talked to your older brother.

“Hey now, I didn’t sign up for a bullying class,” Elvis commented as he sat down beside you.

“You signed up for it when we got together. Don’t make this about yourself either, it’s Aiden’s birthday.”

“Oh, of course, my apologies. Go on,” he motioned his hand out. You chuckled lightly and rested your head against his shoulder.

“I thought today was going to be hard. Instead… it’s easy… It sucks that you’re stuck at twenty-nine forever… but at least you got to experience everything. Who wants to get old anyways? I think it’s overrated.”

“You think everythin’ is overrated,” Elvis spoke up.

“I don’t think you are.” You smiled at him.

“Mhm, just kissin’ up to me now.” You chuckled once more and closed your eyes gently.

“I miss you Aiden… we all do… but I know you’re here with us each and every day. Mostly because I know you would want to haunt us all.”

“Is that why my toothbrush is always downstairs?” Elvis started to question.

“Maybe,” you giggled and pushed Elvis lightly.

While a couple of hours ago today may have seemed like the hardest day… it turned into an easy day of remembrance. You got to spend it with your husband, and the two of you spent some time with Aiden. You really wished things turned out differently, but God had a path for everything… and he just reached the end of his.

Original Ask: "Could you do a fluff with Austin. Where the reader's brother passed away and it's his birthday and he just comforts her and they go to visit his grave."

If you don't know, my taglist is broken. While I work on figuring out a different method, I am just tagging mutuals. I hope to get it up and running in a little while.

Mutual Taglist: @babyhoneypresley, @emmymaehereeeeee, @venus-haze, @austinstyles

#asshlyyyy writes #elvis presley #elvis fanfiction #elvis fanfic #elvis film #elvis fic #elvis fluff #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley imagine #austin elvis x you #austin elvis x reader #elvis x y/n #elvis x reader

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nameless-ken · 2 years

Note

“ just because i happen to hate everyone else, doesn’t mean i don’t want to spend every second of my day with you. “ for andy barber please <3

Thanks for the request! My first Andy writing, hope you like it <3

Warnings: illusion to smut, swearing

Requests

Masterlist

You just got home from a long day at work. Your boss has been super intense lately about a new client. You felt your stress levels at an all time high and Andy hasn’t been much different.

Your home has become the only place where you two have found some sort of peace and comfort. Especially with each other.

You walk through the front door, carrying a few bags from your stop at the grocery store. You decided to cook Andy’s favorite dinner since he’s been working so hard. As you close the door behind you, a loud voice booms throughout the house.

“I told you to fucking handle it. Why is it so hard for you to do you fucking job. Why are you still here?”

This is the first time in a while that Andy has dealt with work at home. We’ve both tried keeping it a pact to keep all work out of our home so it stays a stress-free environment.

You wouldn’t want to be the person on the other end of that conversation. Andy can be quite scary when he’s angry. Not that he’s ever been personally angry towards you but you’ve seen it with other people.

You take your groceries to the kitchen, pulling out all the ingredients for dinner.

“WHY DO I HAVE TO KEEP REPEATING MYSELF?! GET HIM ON THE PHONE AND SORT THIS OUT!”

You sigh, knowing it’s going to take quite a bit to calm him down after he’s finished. But you also think of the many times like this where you guys had the best sex of your lives. You smirk remembering those moments. Maybe you should thank whoever is on the phone call?

“I”M DONE. DO YOUR FUCKING JOB OR YOUR FIRED!” Andy screams from his home office before you hear the door open and slam behind him. Loud footsteps come down the hallway and stop at the opening of the kitchen.

“Rough day?” You ask, looking up at him while you mix together a salad.

“Mhmm.” He groans, walking over to the bar and pouring himself a glass of whiskey.

“I think there’s a game on if you want to sit and relax for a bit while I cook dinner.” You suggest, knowing how his mood is after a tough work call like that.

“And leave you to handle everything?” You feel him walk closer to you, setting his glass on the counter.

“I thought you’d like to kick back your feet and enjoy something that brings you peace.” You grab a tomato, starting to cut it.

“Honey, just because I happen to hate everyone else, doesn’t mean I don't want to spend every second of my day with you.” Andy wraps his arms around your waist, laying his hand over yours to stop your movements. You drop the knife, relaxing against his chest.

“Forget about my day. How was yours?” He leans down, pressing a kiss to the side of your neck.

“I thought we said to keep work out of the home?” You retort, turning around in his arms.

“Yeah, you’re right.” He sighs with a small smile creeping onto his face.

“I’m what?” You smirk, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Say it again.”

“Oh, don’t let that go to your head now, honey. You know I’m always right.” Andy leans down brushing his lips against yours.

“Fine.” You roll your eyes playfully.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me?” Andy grips your hips tightly, stern look on his face. You always forget that rule.

“Upstairs. Now.” Andy instructs and you don’t even try to argue him on this one.

You slip out of his arms, making your way out of the kitchen, leaving behind your dinner plans.

“Clothes off, honey. Don’t make me ask twice.” Andy speaks from the kitchen as you climb the stairs.

“Yes sir.” You smile to yourself, knowing this was coming after his call today. You slip your clothes off as you walk up the stairs, letting them leave a trail to the bedroom. You climb on the bed, resting near the end just as Andy likes you.

He appears in the doorway, holding your panties on one finger.

“How should I punish you honey?” He steps slowly into the bedroom.

“However you like, sir.” You try so hard to hold in your excitement.

“I like the sound of that. Maybe I’ll even reward you for being such a sweetheart today.” He stops in front of you, caressing your face. “But right now, you’re going to let me take out my frustrations on you. How does that sound, honey?” He slips his thumb over your mouth.

“Good, sir.” You open your mouth, sucking his thumb in.

“Good indeed. Hope you’re ready because I’m not stopping no matter how much you scream.”

#andy barber #andy barber imagine #andy barber imagines #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber x y/n #andy barber angst #andy barber fluff #andy barber smut #andy barber oneshot #andy barber x wife reader #namelessken requests #chris evans #chris evans imagines #chris evans x you #chris evans imagine #chris evans x reader

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maudeboggins · 5 months

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i had such a bad chemo infusion today. the nurse was super rough with the iv, moving it around a lot while he was pumping it, because there was no "flash back" of blood (apparently they can tell the iv is in the vein if blood is drawn back into the iv) but he kept saying he was "confident" it was in the vein as the saline wasn't pooling so he went ahead with the injection even after i voiced concerns maybe two or three times (like something clearly was not working. i even asked him to tape down the iv because the movement was hurting and he said he couldn't). first the infusion began leaking on my skin and he just said "that will be fine" and wiped it up and kept going even though i've been told that while the infusion is good to be injected as it fights the cancer it is toxic (nurses have to put on protective gear before handling it and i can't even kiss my husband for a week because the trace amounts in body fluids are toxic to people not on chemo). every time i've had this infusion they say it should NOT hurt and if it does they'll stop immediately. so he is injecting it and i say it hurts and he goes "oh that's normal," and i stop him again and he says it's normal for it to irritate the veins. at that point i got him to re-poke me somewhere else because it hurt too much. finally another nurse did it and it was fine

idk i guess i just needed to vent about this. healthcare people are on the whole much nicer in the cancer world than elsewhere (i've dealt with a lot of mental health care and that's pretty dire). but i feel like i'm getting repeatedly dismissed. something hurts and they go "oh thats fine. that's normal" and keep going. even when i got my second biopsy, the freezing didn't work fully and when i said it hurt, i could feel it, the nurse just said "don't worry we're almost done" even though just before i had been told that if i could feel ANYTHING they would stop and refreeze. last week when i saw the oncologist i said i was nauseous two weeks after my chemo infusion and he just said "that's not supposed to happen it's probably just heartburn" when like, idk if it is or isn't supposed to happen but it IS HAPPENING! i'm super nauseous! and they keep just saying "oh that's odd!" when before this whole thing they told me that if i ever felt too nauseous they would definitely help out. and when i said earlier this week i was feeling too unwell to get my infusion because i had a cold the nurse i spoke to just said "it won't matter, chemo won't impact your ability to heal" while the oncologist an hour later said it WOULD impact my ability to heal and i should postpone until i feel well enough.

it's just really hard. i have such a hard time advocating for myself, and it feels like every time i do, by saying i'm in pain or nauseous or uncomfortable, the nurse or doctor i'm seeing just goes "i don't think that's a big deal i'm just going to continue with what i was doing." like everyone is for the most part really nice to me (which is a big difference. in mental healthcare, they are not nice to you lol) and i'm also so fortunate to be able to get treatment especially so soon after being diagnosed. but it just keeps happening!! i will say the cancer psychiatrist i'm seeing is the nicest and most understanding psychiatrist i've ever seen which is something

#tw healthcare #tw health #if anyone needs a different tw please let me know #anything about cancer i will for the most part put behind a read more #i don't have a lot of irl people to talk to so i find it helps to express myself here

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bullet-prooflove · 1 year

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High!Joe #3: Peace - Joe Velasco x Reader (NSFW)

Rated M for Smut

Tagging: @plaidbooks @misscharlielulu @witches-unruly-heart @kimm4710 @ednastvincent @storiesofsvu @magic-multicolored-miracle @rosaliedepp @cycat4077 @crazy4chickennuggets @cixrosie @themisunderstoodblackswan @im-just-a-mississippi-girl

High!Joe Series:

Part One: High

Part Two: Fall

The bed was empty the next time Joe woke up. His hand reached out for you across cool sheets, his body mourning your absence. He squinted at the alarm clock on your side of the bed, finding himself surprised that he’d slept so late. He hardly ever did that, back home he had a routine, one that kept him focused and on track. Here he was starting to find the good habits he had ingrained slipping.

The Odessas partied a lot, it was a show of wealth, a way of showcasing their good fortune or celebrating after a job. The schedule was hell on you both, although he knew that that would change now for you now. The decision to inform the family that you were ‘pregnant’ had been made on the spot, in response to the threat of what would happen if neither of you had taken the drugs on offer. However, he thought it might shove you in a different direction in the investigation. The idea that the two of you needed a little extra money for the arrival of the baby would add weight to Joe’s assertion that he wanted more work from the Odessas, it would also help you develop more of a relationship with the organisation’s female counterparts. You’d barely left the bar last night before your phone was inundated with texts wishing you congratulations and advice for the upcoming months.

It seemed to be a risk that was going to pay off especially after Clarissa Odessa had contacted you, insisting you come over later on today for tea.

You were sitting at the kitchen table when he came out of the bedroom, sipping from a cup of freshly brewed Chernaya Karta coffee, whilst looking at your phone. The scent was heavenly, the authentic blend igniting his senses as you picked up the half full cafetiere and poured it into the yellow mug he had started using since getting here, adding one sugar and a drop of cream.

The domesticity of the situation wasn’t wasted on him. The two of you were only playing a part right now but he wanted this. He wanted the nights wrapped up in you, making love until the early hours of the morning, the waking up together, breakfast in the morning at that little bistro around the corner from his apartment, he wanted it all.

Did he fess up and tell you the truth or did he blame the coke? Right now, he had an out if he wanted it, but he knew he didn’t. He wanted you to know how he felt. He wished it had come out better, in a different time and different place but these were the cards he’d dealt himself.

He took the seat across from you, his hand enclosing around the mug before he sipped from it, savouring the rich aromatic taste.

The perfect brew, it always was when you made it. He didn’t know when that had happened, but he appreciated the thoughtfulness of it.

“Thanks for the coffee.” He said quietly, his voice rough from sleep.

You shrugged your shoulders, attention still on your phone as you scrolled through it.

“I’m sure you’ll return the favour tomorrow.” You said the edges of your mouth tilting up into a smile.

Joe reached out across the table, his hand covering the screen of the phone. “Can we talk for a sec?”

“Sure.” You said, pushing the device away from you before giving Joe your full regard.

His gaze lowered into the depths of his coffee cup as he struggled to find the words, his thumb trailing up and down the porcelain as he sought them out.

“The things I said last night…” he began before raising his head and meeting your gaze. “I meant every single word. I want… I want it all with you. Everything I said last night and more.”

He watched with apprehension as you got up from your seat and moved to his side of the table. Your hand cupped his unshaven cheeks, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. You could see everything in those eyes, the reality of his feelings, the truth of his words, the depth and you wanted it, you wanted every single thing this man could give you. When you kissed him, it was like a fire raged up inside you, sweeping through your insides and igniting everything it touched. His lips were soft and heated, his kisses searing as his fingers tangled in your hair, briefly pulling your mouth away from his.

“You want this with me?” He asked you, looking into your eyes. “Because this can’t be a one-time thing, not for me. If we do this, I want all of you.”

“You have me.” You breathed. “You’ve had me for a long time Jose, you’re just the first one to do something about it.”

It was the sound of his name on your lips, the way it rolled off your tongue that made his control snap. His mouth was back on yours, stealing away your breath as he kissed you like a man craving oxygen. He tugged you down into his lap, your thighs straddling his hips. His palm came to rest on your lower back, fingers splayed as he held you in place against his body. You tipped your head back as his lips left your mouth, his stubble grazing your jawline as they fastened on that delicate little spot just under the hinge of your jaw.

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He whispered, his large hands slipping under the vest you were wearing, his fingertips pressed into your hips as he thrust up into you. “Feel that? That’s how fucking crazy you make me.”

You cried out at that delicious friction, rocking against him. Joe ground against you at a slow delirious pace, his eyes on you as he arched his hips.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” He told you. “All I’ve been able to think about is how pretty you’ll look in my sheets as I fuck you.”

“Show me.” You whispered, your fingers running through his hair and tugging just slightly. He moaned at the sensation, the noise out of his throat a deep rumble as you pulled again. “Show me everything you’ve been imagining.”

You clung to him as he stood up, carrying you to the bedroom before depositing you on the bed. You lay before him. He was a patient man but having you like this, your skin flushed, and lips swollen did something to him. He’d wanted you for so long, but he wanted to make this good, he wanted you to forget any man that came before him. He started slow, stripping off his t-shirt and draping himself over you so he could feel the press of your skin. He bestowed your body with tender kisses removing each layer of clothing until you were naked and spread out underneath him.

You were stunning. A portrait of stories told by the scars that graced your form, he took his time to memorise them with steady fingertips and eager lips, learning the rhythms of your body, what made you whimper, what made you cry out and what made you say his name.

When his tasted you for the first time it was heaven, candied honey on his lips as his palms held open your thighs so he could explore every inch of you. He learned you liked it when he sucked just lightly on your clit, tongue lapping over it as two fingers swirled and teased your entrance. He let you fuck them, taking just enough inside to tease but not enough to leave you sated.

It was the sweetest torture, drawing out your pleasure until you felt ready to combust. He wanted you to beg for him and when you did, he was ready. He rolled a condom down over his rigid cock before covering you entirely. He kissed you as he entered you, allowing himself to experience you inch by inch. You were tight, impossibly tight and it felt so fucking good around his cock. His moaned your name as he sank into you, your legs wrapped around his waist, hips tilting so that you could take him deeper. His hand found yours, fingers entwining above your head as he began to move in slow, deliberate thrusts.

“Better than I dreamed.” He whispered as he moved within you.

“Jose.” You cried out his name, it came off your tongue like a prayer as you clenched around his cock so hard that he saw fucking stars. His hand fixed on your jaw, guiding your gaze back to his so that he could drink in the look on your face at the height of climax.

“I know baby, I know.” He murmured. “I’m right there with you.”

When you came, you took him with you. Your fingertips digging into the grooves of his knuckles; he kept his eyes on you as that euphoria erupted through his synapses, tearing through him like a riptide. The ecstasy dragged him under, stealing away his thoughts as his hips jerked, spilling into your wanton body. He kissed you in that moment, enveloping himself entirely in the sensation of just being with you. The perfection of it.

In the aftermath you were a tangle of sheets and limbs, your head resting on Joe’s chest, his lips brushing over your hairline. For the first time in a long time Joe Velasco felt at peace.

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#joe velasco #joe velasco x reader #joe velasco x you #jose velasco x you #jose velasco x reader #jose velasco #high!Joe

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