#sorry i’m on a short fuse this morning

[dxckgrxsonx]

hello, random Jason thot i feel like i need to share:

he is the type to ask for sexual related stuff very casually in the most unexpected moments — “hey do you have a second for me to bend you over and use your holes?” “c’mere so i can hit you from the back real quick” “babe, do you like how my cum tastes?” “you mind if i fuck you in your sleep tonight?” “you want me to go raw next time we do doggie?” while you are making toast in the middle of the day or doing the dishes like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

that's it, that's my thot. thanks.

Pairing - Jason Todd x (F) Reader Words - 1.2k Warnings - SMUT 18+ - Graphic Sexual Content - Porn no Plot - Unprotected Sex -Shower Sex - Kitchen Sex - Dirty Talk - Jason 'no verbal filter' Todd - Swearing - Fluff. Notes - i think you should share more thots with me 😉 i will listen to whatever you have to say. also, the idea of Jason fucking you in your sleep???? hOT. I’ll be writing that at some point.

MASTERLIST

**

He asks you questions at the most random times.

You think his brain doesn’t have an off switch. Thoughts constantly whirling around on a washing machine spin cycle. Each one thunking against the sides until he tugs open the door and spits out the first thing to fall at his feet.

Last week, he asked you through a mouthful of food what word you would use to describe The Red Hood.

Apparently, ‘hot’, was entirely the correct answer and he’d spent the rest of the meal insufferably pleased with himself until you’d laughed and kicked him under the table.

The week before that, he woke you up in the middle of the night and asked you, half asleep, if you would still love him if he was a worm. In response, you’d rolled over to hug him close and mumbled, “Mmm-hm. I’d love you no matter what.”

And when you woke up that next morning, it was with Jason smudging kisses across your chest. Right over your heart. You didn’t recall the conversation but he did and it must have meant something to him because he didn’t leave your side for hours.

But this time, he pokes his head out of the shower whilst you’re brushing your teeth and casually asks, “You mind joining me in here? It’s been a while since we’ve had shower sex and i’m real fuckin’ hard.”

Surprise sparks like a blown electric fuse and your toothbrush clatters into the sink whilst you choke on a mouthful of toothpaste, “Jason!” You sputter, staring at him through the mirror and feeling heat scathe up your neck. “What the hell?”

Grabbing your arm, he says nothing and tugs you into the shower cubicle, places you directly under the almost scalding spray of water and cracks a smile when you swat at his chest. Instantly, your pyjamas turn see through and Jason whistles appreciatively, mouth hooking up in a devilish smirk.

“Now there’s a pretty sight.” He says, giving you a heated once over.

Your nipples poke against your shirt and Jason wastes no time in rubbing his thumbs over the sensitive peaks until you sigh softly. He dips his fingers under the hem of your pyjama top and smooths his warm palms up over your breasts to remove it.

Shuffling you backwards until you press against the cold tile wall you hiss through your teeth, “You’re a bastard, Todd.”

Ducking his head to kiss and bite at your neck Jason chuckles, voice lowering to a challenging drawl, “Call me Todd again, sweetheart. I dare you.”

Dragging your open palm over his cock you turn your head and kiss him slowly, deeply. You lick into Jason’s mouth and feel him throb in your hand. Sinking your teeth into his bottom lip you tug until he growls.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Todd. Did that hurt?”

Jason grabs at your thighs, yanks your shorts down your legs with the efficiency of someone not leaking precum all over your fingers. Slotting his hands under your thighs he picks you up, forces your legs around his thick waist. His cock presses hot and heavy against your pussy and you feel yourself drool over the fat, flushed head.

“You’re really in for it now, baby.” He says, eyes alight. “You thought I was a bastard before. Things are about to get a hell of a lot worse for you now.”

You smile, thoroughly amused, “Promises. Promises.”

**

Slotting two slices of bread into the toaster you reach for your phone sitting on the kitchen counter.

Jason approaches you silently and you wonder, not for the first time, how someone with so much mass can move so quietly. You don’t catch his presence until he’s within arms reach and you think that if you were a criminal, you’d be as good as unconscious.

Slipping his arms around your waist he nuzzles into your back, moves to rest his chin on your shoulder, “Whatcha watchin’?”

Turning the screen so he can see the video, you feel him laugh when you say, “Cat fail videos.”

Reaching silently for your phone he locks the screen and places it facedown on the counter. Turning in the strong cage of his arms you walk your fingers over his chest and up to his shoulders. Humming quietly in the back of your throat you sweep a flyaway strand of hair from his eyes.

“Can I help you?” You ask.

“Do you have a second for me to bend you over the kitchen counter? Wanna fill you up.”

“Wow.” You snigger, half amused, half aroused. “You’re not one for subtlety, huh?”

Spinning you around, Jason presses your hips into the counter and quickly unbuttons your jeans to slide them down to your ankles with your underwear. He shuffles around behind you and you hear him drag the zipper down on his pants.

“Jus’ like the thought of you dripping with my come.” He answers, and you feel your clit swell. A touch of his Gotham accent colours his words. “You’re not going to deny me that, are you?”

Kicking one foot free of your jeans you hook your knee over the lip of the counter, spread your puffy pussy open for Jason to see how wet you are. Your arousal leaks from your entrance and Jason drags his fingers through the wetness before wiping it over the head of his cock.

“If I end up burning my toast I’m not going to be happy.” You say.

Pressing the fat head of his cock to your clenching hole Jason pushes forwards, groans deeply when your walls yield around him and squeeze at his thick girth. Bracing one hand on your waist, Jason rocks his hips, stuffs himself into your pussy inch by inch until he bottoms out.

“You were made for taking my cock, sweetheart.” Jason moans, snapping his hips up. Hooking his thumbs under the swell of your ass he spreads you open so he can watch his cock sink into you. “Fuckin’ Christ, can feel you squeezin’ at me, baby. S’almost like I didn’t fuck you yesterday.”

Whimpering out his name you try to reach for the toaster, worried that it’s going to burn.

“I don’t give a fuck about your toast.” Jason growls, grabbing your arm and twisting it behind your back. “I’ll make you breakfast myself when I’m finished.”

**

Sat on the sofa you tug your fingers through Jason’s hair.

His head rests in your lap, legs thrown over the arm of your sofa so you can both fit somewhat comfortably. The TV drones in the background, a movie playing that you’ve quickly lost interest in. You’ve found that your attention settles on Jason, on the stubborn knots in his hair and the warmth of him resting on your thighs.

“Comfy?” You ask, just to make sure.

Humming softly he glances up at you, and when your eyes meet he smiles, “You’re beautiful.”

Emotion drags itself up your throat and you stroke his cheek tenderly, lovingly. You open your mouth to speak but there’s a lump in your throat and you quickly realise that you don’t even know what to say. Vaguely, you recognise that Jason hasn’t taken his eyes off you.

Opening your mouth to try again Jason beats you to it, “I know, baby. Y’don’t have to say it. I know.”

Rubbing the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip, Jason presses a soft kiss there.

“Hey, you mind if I fuck you in your sleep tonight?”

Flicking his forehead you snigger, “Do you not have a verbal filter?”

Giving you an unimpressed look, his eyes glitter, “What do you think?”

**

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader smut #jason todd x you smut #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x reader smut #red hood x you smut #red hood smut #dc fanfic #dc fanfiction #asks #answered #anonymous #ella writes

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 18

part 1 | part 17 | ao3

“I’m sorry I’m sorry don’t hate me I’m sorry, did it work? Don’t hate me. Did it work?”

“Dustin,” Steve barks. Dustin looks up, eyes bright; he's hugging Steve so hard it’s like he’s trying to fuse his face to Steve’s rib cage through his shirt. Steve scruffs him on the top of the head, rubbing his knuckles over his dumb baseball cap in a way he hopes is reassuring, and wheezes, “Can’t breathe, bud.” 

The kid takes a hesitant step back, fists still balled in the fabric of Steve’s shirt like he might run away. Mike’s cowering behind him, hunched in on himself and nervously eyeing up the nail bat.

“So you’re... not mad?” Dustin asks.

“Oh, I’m fucking pissed,” Steve smiles sarcastically. “Hope you used that Butterscotch wisely, dude, because it’s the only one you’re getting for the rest of the year. Also, you can kiss your full candy bar trick-or-treating plans goodbye.”

“What? No!” Mike starts to whine, but immediately shuts his mouth when Steve glares at him. Then Eddie swoops in behind them, clapping a hand on both kids’ shoulders and nearly startling Mike out of his skin.

“And, uh, for obvious reasons,” he says in an acidic sing-song, “you’re both banned from Hellfire for the next month.”

“WHAT?” 

Oh, this guy’s good.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” Mike pleads. “We’re just about to get to the manor’s secret passage!” 

“Yes, and what a shame that your paladin triggered a hidden trap and got stuck in a faulty portal for the next four sessions.” 

“Oh, my god! This is— this is—!” 

“Payback?” Eddie sneers.

Dustin’s eyes are darting rapid fire between the two of them, and he elbows Mike in the ribs and hisses, “Dude, shut up before he kills us both for good!” 

“Oh, my god,” Mike says again, face twisting through all five stages of grief. 

“Oh, also,” Steve adds for his own amusement as he heads toward the stairs, “you two can clean all this camping shit up.” 

—

“You play a good game of Punish the Pipsqueaks,” Steve grins, walking side by side with Eddie. "That D&D ban? Ouch. Keep that up and the moms will start recruiting you for babysitting duty."

“Oh, boy!” Eddie smirks. “My dream finally realized.”

They get back to their cars, and Steve shivers a little, the cold finally getting to him now that he doesn’t have the fight or flight to keep him warm. He unlocks the bimmer and slides into the front seat; cranks up the heat, his hands impatiently hovering in front of the vents. 

Eddie catches the car door. “You’re really not going to punish them more?" he asks, leaning in, head cocked to the side. "I mean, no trick-or-treating sucks and all, but. Seems a little lenient, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah, it does,” Steve agrees with a short laugh, “but see, the thing is, those two dumbasses are assuming that revenge is a dish best served cold, when actually?" He points at the house. "It’s a dish best served by Claudia Henderson.”

Eddie’s brows lift in question.

“I’m gonna call her tomorrow morning and say I caught them smoking at the bus stop.” 

“Jesus!" Eddie laughs. "That’s diabolical.” 

“And then I’m gonna suggest they do community service at the retirement home on Halloween instead of trick-or-treating, because Dustin’s weirdly afraid of old people.” 

Eddie's laugh turns to a cackle, all his teeth on display, and the car bounces on its wheels as he leans his weight against the door. “Oh, man," he exhales, wiping the corners of his eyes. "Remind me not to get on your bad side.” 

“Pretty sure we’ve only ever been on each other’s bad sides.” Steve’s joking, but Eddie’s smile slips a little, and Steve wants to take it back. Pluck the words from the fog of chilled breath hanging between them; tell him that they're not anymore, that they don't have to be again.

But then Eddie catches the bass line coming from Steve’s speakers and the grin comes back full force. 

“Hold the fuck on," he beams, nodding his head to the beat and hum-mumbling the melody as the words come back to him.

Following the footsteps of a red dawn dance, we are entranced. 

“Spellbound,” he sings, shaking his head in delighted disbelief. “I’m sorry, does Steve Harrington have a Siouxsie tape in his car?”

Steve’s face goes red. Fucking Robin. “If you’re about to talk shit about the music, I— I mean, I’m just the chauffeur, man, I don’t—”

“Relax. It’s not that, I just…” He raps his knuckles against the roof. Gives Steve a once over; smiles softly at whatever he sees.

“What?” Steve asks. Kinda likes how he has to crane his neck to look up at him.

“Nothing," Eddie murmurs, low and deep. "You’re just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Steve shivers again.

It seems to snap Eddie out of... whatever that was. “My bad, man,” he says, his voice back to normal volume. He apologizes for letting in the cold air and slips Steve’s jacket off, handing it back to him and shutting the door with a soft click, then he throws out a parting salute and skips off to his van.

Steve just sits there for a moment, feeling syrupy and dumb. Like there's whiskey in his chest, a full flask of it sloshing around behind his ribs.

His jacket smells like Eddie. Siouxsie croons in his good ear.

Spellbound, spellbound, oh-oh-oh.  

"Jesus Christ," he mutters as he cuts the music off. He drives home in silence, the song still ringing in his ears.

—

part 19

first half of tag list below the cut comment if you want me to add you to the next one

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

#trailer park steve au #steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie fic #st fic #my writing #my fic #robin WILL make a sonic witch girly out of steve

[justporo]

"You always meet twice in life!"

A few weeks ago I got a request for writing something with Tav being the scary, protective one of Astarion in a established relationship by @nyxiethesimp .

And I absolutely love the thought.

So have Tav losing it to protect Astarion when they Araj Oblodra, Astarion being like "hot damn" and enjoying his scary dog privileges. Also this will become a two part story with Astarion and Tav taking a muuuuch needed break after this.

Pairing: Astarion/GN!Tav

Warnings: Lots of swearing, graphic descriptions of violence, heavy spoilers

Wordcount: 2,6k

~~~

You had finally made it to the Lower City of Baldur’s Gate. It had only been a handful of days since you had made it to the city but those had already been filled with way more events than you could possibly process in this short time span.

Your encounter with Astarion’s “siblings” had especially rattled you. Already you had been worried about entering the domain of Cazador. But seeing them, hearing about what it was that the vampire lord had planned from their mouths and Astarion hesitantly opening up about more atrocities he had suffered by the hand of Cazador Szarr had you on edge to say the least.

You were always hyper-vigilant – even more so than since all this had begun. You were barely getting any rest, always wanting to be on the lookout for Astarion. All you wanted was for him to be safe and sound and happy – tugged in with a nice blanket a teddy bear and a big smooch on the forehead.

Basically, if it had been possible, you would have shrunk him down and stuck him in your pocket, so he was always safe with you.

But since that sadly wasn’t an option, you had settled for taking every safety precaution possible, being on high-alert all the time and volunteering as his teddy bear: snuggling up close with him every night in your room at Elfsong Tavern and telling him how much you loved him.

It was safe to say, you both didn’t get a lot of sleep since fear and worries (not only about him but all your friends) kept you up most of all nights but at least you had each other.

Closing in on the lion’s den was only making it worse; also the fact that it actually was more than one den and more than one lion.

Today you felt that your fuse was especially short. Already you had barked at Shadowheart when she had been taking too long to get ready in the morning. And it must’ve been bad today because even Astarion had looked worried when he had softly touched your hand after you had thrown the door to Shadowheart’s room so violently the floorboards had shuddered.

“My love, as much as I love how strong and intimidating you can be”, he had said and softly taken your face in both his hands. “I don’t think screaming at the cleric will help us with any of our tasks. We don’t actually need more enemies against us. And I fear Shadowheart would make a formidable and very terrifying enemy.” Astarion’s brows had been deeply furrowed as he had angled his head and kept looking at you.

“I’m sorry, Astarion, I just-“

“No need to apologise to me, my love, I know how it burdens you to keep everyone safe.” Then he had softly and sweetly kissed you.

“You especially”, you had whispered between the kisses and made doe eyes at him. All of a sudden, the sleep deprivation and anxious feelings had you almost tear up – you were so exhausted.

“Oh my sweetheart”, Astarion had purred and tried to cheer you up with a smile but it hadn’t worked. “I hope you won’t forget to keep yourself safe, my heart.”

“You know I kind of suck at that, Astarion.”

“Good thing you have me to look out for you in turn then.”

A smile had crept back onto your face then and you had leaned in for another deep kiss when the door you had smashed only a short time ago opened up again and Shadowheart strode out.

“So, first you scream at me and then you make out just outside my room. Tav, as much as I appreciate you, you really need to get your hormones in check”, the cleric had declared while crossing her arms over her chest. Then she had went past without a word more but a sassy flip of her braid.

Then the party had started to make its way through the city: today’s mission was to scout out the Upper City, so you walked different streets today. Some of them were even new to you but Astarion certainly knew almost all of them.

Still in the Lower City you passed an inconspicuous looking house that became very suspicious once you heard a very loud explosion coming from it and a familiar drow came running out on the porch – Araj Oblodra.

Your eyes immediately narrowed, remembering how the last time had went, when you had had the absolute displeasure of dealing with her. Not only had her attitude been incredibly rude and teeth-grindingly arrogant in general, but the way she had treated Astarion was still making your blood boil. As if he was merely a thing to do her bidding, as if he had no own will or freedom.

Of course, what had come of that encounter had been sweet and lifechanging for you and Astarion, but you frankly could have done very well without it. Back then you had sworn to yourself that if you ever came to meet her again – or any other person who tried to hurt or simply disrespect your soulmate – you would make her pay if she hadn’t learnt her lesson.

And just seeing that arrogant face again made you want to claw her eyes out. Your face became an expression of disgust.

And sure as all Nine Hells: she spotted you and your group and a sort of malicious grin entered her face.

“Ah, what a coincidence, it is you, traveller. I was just experimenting with your blood – it is quite volatile and has allowed for many interesting experiments already.” She looked quite proud of herself – you wanted to retch.

“Why don’t you come in and let me show you what I’ve been working on. I could offer you more potions. If you were to offer me more of your blood of course.” Her grin grew and you could feel your stomach turn.

You threw your companion asking looks because you frankly had a very bad feeling, but… “I guess we could use everything we can get in the fight against the Absolute.” Gale who was standing behind you on the right voiced your thoughts exactly.

Astarion to your left growled at the wizard, making your head swing to him. He still had his teeth bared at Gale, but his gaze snapped to yours: “It’s your call, my love, I don’t want to see you hurt.”

His red eyes softened when he said that, and you were sure you could hear a quiet disgusted noise coming from Shadowheart.

You looked at him a moment longer. But Gale was right: you couldn’t actually pass up an opportunity that might present you with something useful for your task.

You sighed and turned around to the drow and slowly made your way up to her. She was grinning knowingly. Already you wished for nothing more than to wipe that smug look off her damned face.

You all followed her inside where she started to explain condescendingly what she had been doing with your blood as you stood there, arms crossed and your patience running thin.

Araj’s eyes kept wandering to your left where Astarion was standing. So you took a step back and casually grabbed his hand, lacing your fingers with his – clearly stating that she had to deal with the both of you.

When the drow saw your gesture, her face formed into a sneer and she interrupter her sentence: “Ah, I see you might’ve taken my wish and idea to get closer with your vampiric beau and made it your own. How thrilling!” You squeezed Astarion’s hand as you positioned yourself more squarely in front of the drow. The vampire tensed a little as the drow kept talking.

“The heart-stopping bloodsucker. I hope you’ve changed your mind – I mean since you’re obviously fond of the one neck already. My neck is yours, any time”, she finished and gave Astarion a look that would rather be meant for someone you wanted to get inside your bedroom and not someone you wanted to bite you. And it struck flaming hot jealousy into you.

“And I will be refusing until the end of time”, Astarion replied in a mocking high-pitched tone “I’m done bowing to the whims of others.” His tone deepened then, a growl almost laced with the words he let out through gritted teeth.

“Astarion, we can leave if you don’t want to be around her”, you offered him with a quick glance. His eyes darted from the drow to you and answering with a slight, quick smile. You could see that all others of your party also seemed more than displeased and tensed.

But before the vampire could answer you, Araj scoffed. “Pathetic weakling spawn – do you need your guard dog to protect you now?” Her lip was curled into a mean smile.

Something inside you snapped – the remaining string of patience that had been tense and worn thin for days if not weeks suddenly non-existing.

With lightning-quick reflexes you let go of Astarion’s hand and bolted towards the drow. Grabbing her by the collar and pulling her towards you until she was almost nose to nose with you.

“How many more times until you get it in your fucking head?”, you screamed at her and shook her violently. “He does NOT WANT TO BITE YOU AND HE NEVER WILL, YOU DAMNED BITCH!”

Your teeth were gritted and bared as you stared in the drow’s eyes wide with shock. You were absolutely feral, searing hot anger made your heart race as you clawed at Araj’s collar. It slowly cut off her air ways – you couldn’t care less.

No one was going to threaten or insult Astarion as long as you had a say in it – and certainly not this bitch. You dragged her in even closer and bared your teeth at her as she tried to get away from you. But you had the advantage of righteous and pent-up fury.

But a soft touch on your shoulder distracted you a bit, your hands loosened a little on the drow. “Don’t waste your breath on her, darling, she’s not worth it”, Astarion said directly behind you. “Let’s just leave, my love.”

Astarion, who usually delighted in people getting the sharp edge of your knife or an arrow to the eye from your bow, seemed a bit distraught by your sudden outbreak of violence. This was not exactly a behaviour he knew from you or expected from you.

“If I ever meet you again, I will fucking kill you”, you hissed at Araj and then slowly let go of her. You opened and closed your hands a few times to loosen your fingers again as you turned around and grabbed Astarion’s hand again who still looked – if not shocked, at least a bit surprised. He wasn’t used to people so aggressively taking his side and protecting him, although it had already been the second time you and him had denied the drow.

You heard Araj cough behind you from you almost strangling her.

The whole party had turned their backs to walk out the door again, when the drow spoke with a hoarse voice: “Pathetic low-life surface elves. Next time I’ll see you, I’ll bury a fucking stake in your vampire fuckboy’s HEART!” She screamed the last word.

That was it. You completely lost it. You whirled around and sucker-punched her with possibly the mightiest right swing you’d ever landed. The fluidity and acceleration of your graceful turn and motion towards the drow gave you the power you lacked in pure strength.

Your fist connected with Araj’s face who had absolutely no time nor means to avoid the hit. You struck her squarely on her nose and lips and you could hear her nose crack as her lip split and you probably knocked out a few teeth as well. The drow’s head was rocked back and connected with the wall she had been standing in front of. She was immediately knocked out and toppled to the ground as you groaned at the jolt of pain that had shot from your hand through your whole arm and upper body.

“You always meet twice in life, don’t fucking make it three times, you bitch”, you said as you shook her blood from your knuckles. The drow was alive but wouldn’t get up anytime soon.

Your friends were all stock-still and quite openly shocked at your display of violence. Even Astarion’s eyes had widened and he stared at you.

“I’m fucking done here”, you exclaimed and rushed outside while shaking your hurting hand. You threw Astarion a glance in passing and then stormed outside to cool your anger.

And as you threw the door close behind you, you were pretty sure, you heard Astarion mutter under his breath: “Well, mark me down as horny and scared.” And was that Gale agreeing with a shocked “hm-hm”?

You stood around aimlessly on the porch and carefully looked at your hand – your knuckles had split and were bleeding. Astarion strode outside after you – alone.

You looked from your hand to him. All your anger had disappeared now and had left you powerless and exhausted. Tears started streaming down your face.

“I’m sorry, I only wanted to protec-“, you started as you thought about the mess you had just created. But Astarion cupped your already wet face and kissed you with open lips.

That’s how you stood for quite some while. Astarion’s thumbs softly brushing away the tears from your eyes until they had dried up. After, when he had softly broken the kiss but kept holding your face he said: “There’s absolutely nothing to apologise for, my love. In fact, I cannot tell you how grateful I am for you to not only take my side but… uh… rather aggressively defending it.” His arms glowed with admiration and love and then he leaned in again to kiss you. You simply sniffled.

“Besides”, he said a few moments later when his lips left yours again and you had almost forgotten you were not alone in the world, “I mean it’s usually two men fighting to defend the honour of a woman, but I feel absolutely flattered that you’re out here knocking people out on my behalf. I would now definitely offer you my handkerchief with my initials embroidered into them as a token of my affection. And it was kind of – hot. Even the wizard thought so.” A huge grin split the vampire’s face and made you break out into a giggle.

As you moved to wipe away the last of your tears with the back of your hand, Astarion gasped a little. He quickly grabbed your injured hand and inspected it.

His thumb gently wandered over your knuckles as his brows kneaded together in worry and you hissed from the pain – looked like you’d hurt yourself more than you realised at first.

“Speaking of handkerchief – I’d really like to have one on my person right now to clean up your poor hand, my love, but I’m currently out.”

You simply replied with a soft mocking “aww” and made a face as Astarion kept carefully turning your hand over.

Then his head snapped up again and he watched you with a mischievous grin on his face: “That’s it, my love. I’m stealing you away for a day of rest and relaxation.” You immediately wanted to protest.

“Ah ah ah, my sweet, I won’t take no for an answer. You desperately need a break and I will get you this embroidered handkerchief as you are now my chosen champion to defend my delicate and precious honour”, Astarion said with a wink and a smile.

And then he kissed you again.

#astarion #astarion x tav #baldurs gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate iii #astarion x reader #astarion x mc #baldurs gate astarion #astarion x oc #astarion x you #fanfic #fanfiction #astarion ancunin #bg3 spoilers #tav #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #shadowheart

[thetriumphantpanda]

the touch of a hand lit the fuse

So, turns out y'all lapped up my dbf!Joel and now I'm kinda speechless? Like, tysm for loving this enough to like semi-blow it up. But never fear, our favourite neighbourhood DILF is back and filthier than ever today. I wrote this under the influence of a rather strong margarita, so forgive any mistake and the uninhibited filth you're about to consume. Enjoy.

Pairing | dbf!Joel x female reader

Summary | Four days on from being spread on Joel's lap, he's back to fix up your attic when you're home alone.

Word Count | 3.6k

Warnings | I mean, blanket warning for dbf!Joel because he's always a menace. Alcohol consumption, NO USE OF Y/N, masterbating (F), unprotected PiV sex (Don't be dumb, wrap it up), age gap (Reader is 25, Joel is 36), size kink, some dirty talk and that's it.

Part 1 | Main Masterlist

It was Wednesday and you were still reeling from what had happened at the party on Saturday. Whenever you led in bed there was the feeling of Joel’s fingers ghosting over you. You were ashamed of the number of times you’d touched yourself, trying to emulate how Joel’s fingers had felt inside of you, failing miserably, but still getting yourself off with tight circles on your clit, moaning his name into your pillow as you made yourself come. It was a dreadful substitute, but you didn’t have much choice – Joel had been MIA since he'd left on Saturday night. 

You were sat at the table in the kitchen with your parents, sipping on orange juice and pushing eggs around your plate before they both went to work, “Oh, I forgot to mention, Joel’s coming over this morning to take a look at starting that work in the attic, you’ll be around to let him in, won’t you?” 

You tried to keep as nonchalant as possible at your dad’s voice, “Yeah, I’ll be here.” 

A house to yourself with Joel Miller, of course you’d be here, there was no-where else you’d rather be. Once your parents had eaten and stacked their dishes for you to wash up in your free time later, you raced upstairs to your room, dragging out the tightest pair of shorts you owned and a low-cut tank top. You’d never been the type to play into this sort of thing – if someone wanted you, then they could want you in your baggy jeans and jumpers, but Joel was different, and you knew it. You’d seen it the last time, how he fought to the last second not to give into you and his desires, you didn’t want to give him a reason to do it again. 

You made quick work of hopping in the shower before pulling your clothes on, choosing a coloured bra to sit under your white tank top, but deciding against underwear beneath your shorts. Then you sat on couch and waited, anticipation rising with every minute there wasn’t a knock on the door. It took him another hour to arrive – the knock at the door dragging a gasp of surprise from your lips. 

You practically ran to the front door, stopping only to run a hand through your hair and take a deep breath before you opened it. It never mattered where or when you saw him, he was always fucking gorgeous. Like now, stood in front of you, toolbox in hand, dark t-shirt and jeans clinging to him, hair mused and a smirk on his lips. 

“Sorry I’m late sugar,” He breathes, “Had to cover a job first thing for Tommy.” 

“That’s alright,” You smile, leaning against the door so he can walk past, “You want a drink of anything?” 

You were slightly put out that he hadn’t immediately bent his head and planted a kiss to your lips, but you weren’t going to be a brat about it. At least not yet. 

“Water’ll be just fine thanks,” He says over his shoulder as he’s moving towards the stairs, “I’m just gonna get started, don’t let me interrupt you.” 

You’re not interrupting anything is what you want to say, but he’s already taking the stairs two at a time, as if he’s in a rush to get away from you. It hurts, but you try and swallow your pride for now. He wasn’t going to get away with it that easily. 

You fill up a glass of water from the fridge with some ice, it’s hot after all, before you head upstairs. He’s already got the ladder from the attic down and is searching through his toolbox for what he needs, setting each different tool on his utility belt when he finds it. 

“You want me to pass this up to you once you’ve tackled the ladder, Miller?” You ask. 

He turns to you with his hand on one of the ladder rungs, “I’d be much obliged, sweetheart.” 

You swear that he takes each step of the ladder excruciatingly slow just for your benefit, but you aren’t going to complain – it affords you a glorious view of his ass, fitting tightly into his jeans – had he done that to you on purpose, just like you did for him? You watch intently as he turns and kneels and sticks his hand down for the glass of water. You pass it to him, and he does exactly what he did with his bottle of beer on the weekend, grabs it exactly where your hand is so his fingers brush against yours. Lighting a fuse right through your body. If you could spontaneously catch fire you think this would have done it.

“I’ll be downstairs if you need me, just shout.” 

You flop yourself down on the couch, huffing out an annoyed breath as you reach for the magazine you’d been trying to read before he arrived. Thinking it would be easier to concentrate on now Joel was working away upstairs, you’re sorely mistaken. Your eyes glaze over the same two sentences – it’s an advice column, some housewife wanting to know how she could make her husband want her again after months of living in a dead bedroom. You don’t pretend to care, you look down to the bottom of the column – Andrea, 48. What you really want the editor to say in response is that Andrea should cut her losses, find someone younger, fitter and more handsome and sack off her obviously boring husband. What they really say is that she can spice things up by wearing sexy lingerie and being spontaneous, maybe you can try taking sex out of the bedroom for things to feel newer and more exciting. 

They’d got that much right. Your brain is drifting back to Saturday night, sat on Joel’s lap with his thick fingers moving in and out of your pussy. That had been new and exciting. Maybe Andrea should try that with her own husband. 

You sigh and throw the magazine to the ground – nothing is going to stop the bubbling lust and frustration in your stomach. Nothing except for what you really want, and that Joel, peeling your clothes off and seating himself so deep inside you that you can’t think properly. You can hear him banging around in the attic, unsure of what he’s actually doing. 

Before you know what you’re doing, one of your hands is making quick work of undoing the button on your shorts, moving them just enough so you can slip your hand below the material. Your ears focus on sound of Joel’s footsteps in the distance. You bet there’s a thin film of sweat on his skin up there, you think as your fingers dip to the entrance of your pussy, finding yourself just as wet as you were on the weekend. Maybe he’s taken his shirt off, you think as the slick you’d gathered on your fingers make sliding them over your clit easier. The mental vision of the muscles in his back rippling as he bends to work and the way his arms would tense make bringing yourself to the edge of oblivion a piece of cake, but it’s the final vision you have of him pushing you against the dank attic wall and pounding into you that has you coming. You bite down on your hand to stop yourself from making noise, convulsing on the couch with the aftershocks of your orgasm. 

There was a slight feeling of embarrassment that sat through your stomach for a moment when you’d realized you’d gotten yourself whilst Joel was unaware upstairs. You quickly buttoned up your shorts and placed an arm over your eyes whilst you tried to catch your breath and before you could stop yourself you were drifting off to sleep. 

You woke with a start God knows how long later, the sound of something hitting the ground drawing you from your dreamless nap. You sat up and rubbed at your eyes and saw Joel setting his toolbox by the front door. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to fall asleep.” You mumble, pushing yourself off the couch. 

“S’alright,” He smiles at you, “S’your house.” 

“You get everything done?” You ask. 

He shakes his head, “Gonna be a big job up there, don’t have the stuff to finish it all today.” 

You nod like you understand, “Anything else on today?” 

He smirks at you like he knows what you’re thinking, “Nope,” is all he says, “You?” 

You match his smirk, “Nope, convenient huh?” He nods, “You want a drink?” 

You look at the clock on the wall, it’s nearing 2pm, “Beer?” 

“Yes ma’am.”

You try and push down the arousal that pooled in your stomach at that. It hadn’t been two hours since you’d gotten yourself off but God there was just something about this man that made your blood run hot and turned you into something akin to a dog in heat. He follows behind you as you go to the kitchen, gratefully accepting the ice-cold beer that you’d popped the cap off. 

You stand at opposite sides of the kitchen – Joel leant up against the counter near the sink, you doing similar against the breakfast island. It’s silent as you both eye one another up, taking languid sips of beer as you do so. You could cut the tension in here with a fucking knife. You made the first move last time, it’s his turn to do it. 

“Y’know you don’t have to wear that kinda stuff for me, don’t ya?” His eyebrow is cocked, and you know he’s talking about the shorts that barely cover your ass and the blue bra he can clearly see through your top. 

“Shall I take them off then?” 

He’s leant against the kitchen counter, looking as casual as can be, but you don’t miss the way his eyes darken, glazed with lust. He takes another drink of his beer before setting the bottle down, crossing his arms over his chest, eyebrow raised. 

“You wanna see me naked, Joel Miller?” 

“You want me to see you naked?” He counters.

“You’re in charge baby, you need to tell me what you want.” You dare. 

He sucks his bottom lip into his mouth as he’s thinking before he’s unraveling his arms from his chest, “Well, in that case, come over here and kiss me.” 

Your feet are moving before he’s even finished speaking, closing the gap between you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pushing yourself up on your tiptoes as his own arms wrap around your waist as his dips his head and wastes no time connecting your lips together. As soon as they do you can feel the tension dripping from your body, pooling on the floor as if it never existed. 

Joel’s got you pulled flush to his body, warmth radiating through the material covering your bodies as his mouth opens and he’s swiping his tongue across your bottom lip before he takes it between his teeth and bites down slightly. He slips his tongue into your mouth when you gasp at the slight bite of pain from his teeth, which is quickly forgotten when you can taste him on your mouth. The slight yeast from the beer, something minty, suggesting he’d been chewing gum whilst working and the inevitable flavour that’s just pure Joel that you cannot place.

His hands are slipping down from your waist to cup your ass – hands on bare skin where the globes of your ass meet the back on your thighs, dragging you further into him. You can feel his own arousal prodding between you which has a moan tumbling from your lips, swallowed by Joel’s own mouth as he continues to lick into your mouth. 

His hands are sliding around to the front of your shorts, deftly undoing the button, not unlike how you’d done it just a few hours before. His hand is snaking down into the material and then he’s pulling away from your lips, a groan of frustration leaving your mouth as he does so. 

“What’s this?” He asks, brushing his fingers along the seam of your pussy, “Didn’t wanna bother with lace today?” 

“Saving time.” You mumble, a sigh leaving your lips as his fingers move lower. 

“Fuckin’ hell sweetheart, are you always this wet?” He groans when one of his finger’s dips slightly between your folds. 

“Only for you,” Another sigh, “I… fuck, Joel…” You’re trying to get your words out but the way he’s brushing your slick up the seam of your pussy but neglecting your clit means it’s hard to concentrate, “I touched myself, thinking of you.” 

He stops dead in his tracks, pulling his face away from you, “When?” He demands. 

You turn your head to look at the clock behind you, “Probably two hours ago now.” 

He growls, gripping you tightly to his body, “You filthy girl,” You can do nothing but grin, “You touched your pussy whilst I was upstairs?” 

You nod, moving so you can press a kiss to his neck, “Show me.” He asks. 

There’s confusion on your face when you pull back, “You don’t need me, obviously, so show me how you touched yourself whilst I was slaving away upstairs.” 

He pushes you away from his body gently, and you’re going to turn around to walk somewhere to lie down and give him a show, but he’s stopping you, “Do it here,” He’s motioning his hand for you to stay in the kitchen, “Come on sweetheart, don’t keep me waitin’.” 

You take your place leant back against the kitchen counter, running your hand down your body before it dips into your shorts. Joel’s eyes are staring holes into your skin as your fingers dip to your seeping hole, you let your eyes flutter closed as you gather your slick on your fingers, bringing it up to circle your clit. This time when you want to moan, you don’t bite down on anything, moaning Joel’s name as loud as you please. 

When you open your eyes, fingers not letting up on pleasuring yourself, you can see him in a similar position to yours, palming himself through his jeans at the show you’re putting on, “Does it feel good, sweetheart?” He coos from across the kitchen, “Bet I’d make you feel even better, right?” 

“Oh god, Joel, please-” You gasp as you speed up the circles on your clit, “I want you to touch me.” 

He chuckles as he steps forward to meet you, trapping you against the kitchen island with an arm on either side of you. He’s pressing kisses behind your ear but is making no attempt to touch you past that. Fingers still firmly pressing against your clit, you grind your hips forward into his own, “Oh baby,” He whispers, “D’ya need some help?” You nod, “What d’ya want from me?” 

“Fingers-” You gasp out, “Put your fingers inside me.” 

He kisses your neck, using his hands to push your shorts from your legs, letting them drop to the floor, before he’s kicking at one of your ankles to push your legs further apart. Then, he’s sinking one of his deliciously thick fingers right into your seeping cunt, causing you to cry out. 

“It’s alright babygirl,” He chuckles against your skin, “Makin’ you feel good, right?”

He’s pulling his finger back out of your pussy before adding another one when he pushes them back in, “Can feel how tight you are, already, you gonna come for me?” 

“Fuck-” You exclaim when he’s curling his fingers up inside you whilst his mouth drags hot trails across your collarbone, “Don’t stop, please-” You beg, “So fucking close Joel.” 

“Good girl, show me how good I make you feel.” 

With the incessant rubbing you’re doing over your clit and the curve of Joel’s fingers inside you, you come undone. His name is almost shouted from your lips and you can feel his free hand on your waist, keeping you upright. On Saturday he’d worked you through the aftershocks, but not today, he’s pulling his fingers from your pussy, shoving them into your mouth and watching as you lick yourself off him. Then his tongue is back in your mouth and he's grinding his bulge against you whilst he laps up the taste of you on your mouth. 

“Fuck, you taste so good babygirl,” He’s whispering once he’s pulled away, “One day I’m gonna spread you out and spend hours with my head between your thighs.” 

Heat flushes through your body – you want to respond but you don’t have time. He’s turning you around and with a hand placed gently on the nape of your neck, he’s pushing you forward so your body is spread over the kitchen island. You can hear him unbuckling his belt behind you and you can’t quite believe this is about to happen. 

When you hear the material of his jeans hit the floor you swear you can feel yourself drip down the inside of your thigh, you’re that turned on. 

“I’m gonna fuck you sweetheart,” His body is towering behind yours as his hands take your hips and pull you back, “That okay?”

You nod and moan out a ‘yes please’ as he’s lining himself up behind you. You can feel the head of his cock sliding between your folds before Joel is sinking into you from behind. He’s slow because he knows it’s a tight fit, despite all your preparation the feeling of him stretching you is bordering on uncomfortable, but you just can’t get enough. He stills himself when he’s buried inside you to the hilt. You can hear his gasps and his heavy breathing behind you as he tries to calm himself down. 

“Fuckin’ Christ baby, you’re fuckin’ tight around my cock.” 

“Feel so full Joel,” You moan back at him, hands gripping at the kitchen island as he pulls back and thrusts himself back into you, “You’re so fucking big.” 

You can hear him chuckle as his hands grip tighter at your hips, you’re convinced you’re going to have finger shaped bruises there, “That’s right babygirl,” He pulls out once more and thrusts back into your tight heat with more force than before that has you crying out, “Look at you,” He praises, “All spread out in your daddy’s kitchen gettin’ fucked by his best friend.” 

It's filth but by God it’s doing the job, the way his voice is deeper, and his words are peppered with groans and gasps as he starts fucking you in earnest. You can feel your pussy clenching around him with each thrust, any feeling of discomfort long gone, replaced just with an intense feeling of fullness peppered with ecstasy. 

You feel a hand come back to the nape of your neck, travelling higher until it’s tangled in your hair, yanking you backwards so your back is arched. You can feel Joel’s hips snapping into your ass, the new arch of your back has his cock hitting a spot inside you that has spots blurring your vision. 

All you can do is chant his name and let moans drop from your lips as his pace picks up again. He’s turned your brain to mush, not that you’re complaining. If you could keep the both of you here forever, locked in this state of secret pleasure then you would. 

“Sweetheart,” He chokes out behind you, hand still wrapped in your hair, “I’m gonna cum.” 

“Yes Joel, please-” You cry out, “Please give it to me.” 

“So fuckin’ pretty sweetheart,” He groans behind you, “Beggin’ me for my cum like a good girl.” 

When he pulls himself fully from your pussy you almost cry in frustration until you feel the warmth of his cum spreading over the cheeks of your ass. You can hear him moaning your name, one hand still firmly gripping your hip, the other, you assume, fisting his cock. When you’re sure he’s finished you let your forehead drop to the cool countertop whilst you catch your breath. 

You’re vaguely aware of Joel pulling his jeans back on and the sound of the tap running behind you. The feeling of a warm cloth spreading across your ass as he cleans his spend off you. It’s almost robotic as he gathers you and turns you round, bending down to shimmy your shorts back up and over your hips. He even does the button up for you. 

“You okay?” He asks, pressing a kiss to the tip of your nose. 

You smile, exhaustion settling into your bones as he holds you, “Never better.” 

“Hope I wasn’t too rough sweetheart.” 

“I don’t mind,” You smirk, reaching up to press a kiss to his lips, “Want you to make me sore so whenever I move I remember this.” 

“You can’t be real babygirl,” He’s chuckling, “You keep sayin’ things like that and I’ll never leave.” 

You’re pulled from your post-coital bliss by the sound of a car door slamming out front. Your eyes widen and so do Joel’s. You quickly glance at the clock and realise he’s had you bent over the kitchen counter for far longer than you’d anticipated. 

“Fuckin’ hell,” He’s mumbling, making sure he kisses your lips firmly, “I gotta get outta here, but I’ll see you soon, okay?” 

“Okay.” You nod with a smile, you fucking hope so. 

He leaves with a squeeze of your hand, jogging to the door to grab his toolbox. You hear the door open and then he’s greeting your mother with a ‘Hello ma’am, good day?’ – you can just about hear your mother recounting her day to him and then asking him how the work in the attic went. 

“Went fine, still a fair bit to do so just let me know when y’all are going to be out again in the week and I’ll come back to finish up.” 

“Well, you know we work all week and I’m sure that one in there won’t mind a little banging about from you.” 

Oh if only you knew mom, if only you knew. 

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller fan fiction #Joel Miller fanfic #dbf!joel #dbf!Joel Miller #dbf!joel smut #the last of us #Pedro pascal #the last of us hbo #Joel Miller smut #tlou #tlou fic #tlou smut #Joel tlou #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #Joel Miller Pedro pascal #TS

[galaxycunt]

Added to this fic bc I thought of a lil scene that was too small for its own thing hehehe

You prepared the bar, leaving it to someone’s care for the first time ever. Your loyal patrons promised to make sure nothing changed, as faithful as any other crew. Plenty of folks figured you two were marrying, something that wasn’t spoken but implied. You loved him, and that was enough for you. At least for now, you didn’t like pushing luck.

It was a fantasy, rolling between the sheets every night, sea spray and sun kissing your face every morning. The crew was as loyal to him as you were, and you felt like a young sailor again. Being with Buggy felt…right.

You couldn’t admit it to yourself before, but you felt stagnant at the bar. Resigning yourself to life on land, it never felt you. Buggy had a way to persuade anyone to do anything, how easy it was for you to reconsider things in the end.

Buggy regarded you as a goddess, eyes in a daze as you kissed him each time. It made him nervous, afraid to act like himself. You always had short spurts together, a ship was tiny compared to a whole ocean apart.

You’d get agitated at each other, arguing over small things. He was a man that had a short fuse, and you discovered you did too. Buggy threw clean clothes on the floor, you laughed a little too hard at a crew member’s joke. That one got him into trouble.

”I can do what I want, Buggy.”

You’d go to bed angry, facing away from him no matter how hard he tried. Buggy figured his time was up, failing the audition. The curtain closing on the last good thing that was ever going to happen to him.

You woke up late, stumbling into the kitchen to eat, only to find Buggy. He was frustrated, muttering curses as he looked at a recipe.

”Hey baby.”

He nearly dropped his spoon, “go away! I’m busy! Go lay down!”

You did no such thing, lacing your fingers around his waist. Buggy elbowed you gently so he could work, he was making crepes. You ate a burnt one he tossed aside, smiling.

”Are you making this for us?”

”For you.”

”Can I help?”

”No. Just relax.”

”I’ve made crepes before.”

”I got it!”

You held your hands up, leaving him to his mess. He arrived to your cabin in a flourish, presenting the breakfast like it was the finest meal in the world. You kissed him as a thanks, his face as red as his nose.

”I’m sorry, you know.”

”Hey, it’s okay. I love you, Bug.”

He felt he needed to make it up to you anyway, making love to you, something he didn’t think he was capable of anymore. Before, it was always hot and fast, leaving him going mad until he could see you again. Yet here you were, and he was going to lavish you, appreciate you.

You rolled onto your stomach, admiring the man the before you. He playfully bit your asscheek before planting a kiss.

”Perfect spot for my name,” he said referring to your various pirate tattoos.

”Only if you get my name on your forehead.”

”Deal.”

”Right between those bones.”

”Uh huh.”

He was looking at you funny, so you stuck your tongue out. He didn’t flinch, didn’t throw it back, only smiling softly. Your body was on fire, cheeks burning.

“Ever thought about a future…with me?”

”I do.”

Your name sounded so lovely on his lips, “you’re the love of my life. My…my North Star, my way home.”

Buggy let out a shuddering breath, “I’m sorry if it’s too soon. But I can’t help what I feel.”

Your heart raced, “what are you saying?”

He laid his head on your stomach, too nervous to look you in the eye. You were beginning to worry, was he about to take it back?

”I want to marry you. Do it right. You said your folks are still alive.”

”My dad‘s a shipwright. He’s gonna say no because of the paint job.”

Buggy laughed, “so how do I win them over?”

”Don’t be a pirate.”

They liked your first spouse well enough, even if they were a pirate. After their death, your folks figured only pain was in your future if you continued.

”Well, I’m marrying you anyway.”

”I didn’t say yes.”

He hand waved it away, “haven’t seen the ring.”

”You didn’t even ask.”

Buggy rolled his eyes, “if you think you’re getting out of a flashy engagement you’re an idiot. I don’t marry idiots.”

You both burst into laughter, Buggy apologizing between kisses.

It was a couple of weeks before it was brought up again. The crew landed on an island with hidden treasure. The circus tent set up for a party, and you stared in his mirror as you got ready. It was a little funny that he had a longer morning routine than you, the matinee show, he called it.

You dipped a brush into some greasepaint, thinking it would fun to paint your own clown face. You painted red hearts on your eyes, with a blue smile. Giggling, you posed in the mirror. Buggy would get a kick out of it.

The ship was empty, so you figured everyone was at the tent already. You could see the lit up tent from the shore. As a kid you loved the circus, watching the graceful acrobats in the airs. Clowns always made you laugh.

Inside, the tent was empty. A single spotlight focused on the center ring. You felt in your gut what was about to happen.

“Buggy? Guys?”

From the darkness your lover approached you. Hands flexing nervously at his side, he smiled brightly.

“Got a special performance today, just for you.”

Suddenly you were lifted up by an acrobat, floating next to you was Buggy reaching out for your hand. Before you could grab it, you swung down. Your laughter bubbled up as this happened a few times, feeling gloved hands guide your hands and feet to the swing as you were let go.

Suddenly Buggy appeared causing you both to fall into the net below. Adrenaline rushed to your head as he kissed you, lips turning purple.

He helped you climb out of the net, falling to one knee.

”Marriage, like a circus, got its ups and downs. It’s true. But it’s all about keeping that passionate flame burning!”

On cue, the fire eaters spat out flames above your head. As you looked up, Buggy pulled out a clamshell. Inside the ring sparkled brilliantly, a show off like your husband.

“You’re the only person I want to share top billing with. The light of my life, my one true love. All dreams, my every breath, I want to share it with you.”

He shook, fingers slipping as he held the ring up.

”Will you marry me?”

You wiped your eyes, “yes. Making me cry in clown makeup, you jerk.”

He only laughed, kissing your face. You were sure the smile on his face froze permanently as soon as you slipped on the ring. He wore that smile all night as the crew celebrated.

Your parents were going to be so pissed.

#buggy the clown #buggy x reader #buggy x you #one piece

[trashpandato]

But we are real, real

“Who scheduled a meeting at seven in the morning?” Lena hissed, tapping the keys on her laptop with more force than strictly necessary.

“Um,” Jess cleared her throat, hovering near the door, “I believe you asked for this time slot specifically when the meeting was set last week?”

Lena pursed her lips. She had indeed done that, but that didn’t change how unhappy she was with that decision now. 

“Don’t let me do that again.”

“Of course, Miss Luthor,” Jess promised, scurrying out of Lena’s office before she could be subjected to any more harsh questions only minutes into their work day.

The meeting was…fine. Productive, even, once Lena managed to swallow down some snarkier comments that were on the tip of her tongue. The coffee Jess had brought her part way through helped a little as well. But then Lena got wind of an issue in the lab and she stormed downstairs without a second thought, sent the lab techs home with a few not-so-friendly words and mumbled something about “always having to fix everything myself” before throwing herself at the task for a couple of hours.

She was so engrossed in her work that she forgot about her scheduled call with Sam at lunch, and when her phone buzzed for the third time in as many minutes, she was about to throw it against the wall.

“I’m busy,” she snapped when she finally answered the call without even looking at the caller ID to confirm who she was subjecting to her foul mood. “A fact that should have been clear after I didn’t pick up the first two times you called.”

“Whoa there, grumpy pants,” Sam replied, a slight chuckle in her tone, “someone’s got a short fuse today.”

Lena sighed. “Sam. It’s been a day from hell.”

“Lena,” her friend’s voice softened, “you know you can just text me and reschedule our call, right?”

Lena sighed again. “Right. Sorry.”

“What’s going on? Is this a work-related hell or something else?”

“An early meeting with investors from Switzerland, and you know how rough those can be, and then a lab emergency that I’m currently fixing myself, and then I have to call my mother later today.”

“Well, that sounds unpleasant but like a pretty normal day for you,” Sam remarked, and even though Lena wanted to disagree and tell Sam that this really had been a supremely shitty morning and she had every reason to be a little irritable, thank you very much, she knew her friend had a point.

“Either way,” Lena mumbled after a moment, “I have to finish fixing this. Rain check on our catch-up call?”

“Fine. But maybe find one of those squeezy stress balls so you don’t end up biting anyone else’s head off today, okay? Well, except your mother. Go ahead and bite with gusto; she deserves that and more.”

Lena rolled her eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “I’m hanging up now.”

“Love you, Lena!”

Lena disconnected the call and glanced down at her phone. There were a few notifications, some news alerts and stock market statistics, and the reminder that she had missed the two earlier attempts from Sam to call her, but no texts from the one person she really wanted to hear from. Sighing, she locked her phone, stuck it in her pocket and returned to the task in front of her.

When she went back to her desk later that afternoon, she found a man snooping around in her office and she was about to reprimand Jess for not alerting her about the intruder when the man reminded her that she had ordered him to complete a security check of her office that afternoon.

“Right,” Lena said curtly and waved at him to proceed with his task while she sat down at her desk to deal with a litany of unanswered emails that had piled up while she was in the lab.

Lena ended the afternoon with the call from Lillian, which was as unpleasant as she had expected it to be. It included the usual commentary about Lena not being equipped to lead the company, a few pointed questions about a delayed product launch and a small dip in stock values and ended with Lillian reminding Lena of everything she had ever done wrong in her mother’s eyes. By the end of it, Lena was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to go home and drink a very large glass of wine and have a hot bath, preferably at the same time.

When Lena was just about ready to call it a day, finishing up one last email to request a full status update from the lab technicians by noon tomorrow, a small knock made her look up just in time to see Kara step into the dimly lit office. Lena looked back down at her laptop to check the time. It was almost nine. Lena sighed.

“So Jess tells me you’ve been on a tear today. Bad day?”

Kara’s voice was light and teasing, but Lena could see that she was looking at her intently, taking in Lena’s stiff posture and tired features. Lena was about to give Kara a summary of her no good, terrible, very bad day, but what came out instead was:

“You didn’t text.”

“What?”

“You didn’t…you always text me in the mornings. You didn’t today.”

A crooked smile settled on Kara’s face as she walked towards and around Lena’s desk. She crouched down in front of Lena’s chair, her warm hands settling firmly on Lena’s thighs.

“Are you telling me that the reason you’re grumpy and made life miserable for Jess and everyone else today is because you didn’t get your customary good morning baby text?”

Lena pressed her lips into a thin line, unamused.

“I didn’t hear from you all day. I was worried.”

“Hey,” Kara said softly, bending forward a little to catch Lena’s gaze more fully. “There was an emergency. I’m sure you saw the news? I know you did and I know you saw that I was fine, otherwise you would have called Alex and made her day difficult. It just took a bit longer than expected to deal with the cleanup afterwards.”

Unable to form words with Kara’s face so close and her hands so warm and steady on her legs, Lena could only manage a small nod.

“So what’s this really about?”

Lena broke their eye contact, choosing instead to focus on her hands in her lap for this next part. 

“Well, maybe I do like getting that text in the morning? A reminder that this isn’t some elaborate fantasy that my brain made up? That you’re real. That we’re real?”

“Lena,” Kara murmured, moving one of her hands to cover Lena’s fidgeting ones. Kara waited for Lena to look up again before leaning forward to press a soft kiss to her lips. “We’re very much real, okay? And if you need more reminders of that throughout the day, I can make that happen.”

Lena nodded, unable to speak past the small lump in her throat.

Then Kara leaned forward again for another brief kiss before sliding her arms under Lena’s legs and picking her up and out of the chair, a move that resulted in a surprised little squeak from Lena.

Kara smirked. 

“Now, how about I take you home and show you just how real we are?”

#supercorp #kara x lena #lena luthor #kara danvers #sam arias #jess

[jake-whatthefisgoingon-kiszka]

Sorry this is so late, but Happy New Years here’s part 12! I hope you hate it as much as I do! Want to find out what’s happening? Start here in part 1.

Pairings: Sam Kiszka x Danny Wagner ***slash for 2024!

Warnings and tags: 18+ only!!!, slash ofc, sexual situations including oral (m receiving), slight masturbation, messy love triangles, lots of angst, third person POV Sam, Danny, and Jake, restaurant AU

Word count: 6k

Come on Danny pick up. Jake tried his number again when the first call eventually went to voicemail.

“Hello?” Danny answered with a slightly confused, slightly concerned tone in his voice.

“Hey, I’m sorry for calling like this”. Jake sounded a bit frantic on the other end, though whatever the matter was he still had the mind to apologize for calling out of the blue.

“No umm, it’s alright” Danny replied, looking over at Sam who was laid out on his bed, stark naked, hair still dripping wet, with an unamused look on his face. His brows were perched on the verge of an eye roll, mouthing ‘seriously’ to which Danny just shrugged. Sure it was bad timing to answer a phone call right now, but Jake never just called for nothing. “What’s up?”

“Kim is sick, she woke up this morning not feeling well. Thought she might get over it but now she’s running a high fever. We’re on our way to the hospital”.

“Oh no, Is she okay?” Surely she was fine, he’d seen her just last night. Although looking back on it she did seem a little lethargic and short fused, he hadn’t looked into it. He wished now he would have stopped and at least asked if she was alright.

Sam lost his attitude when he heard Danny’s voice turn more serious, wondering who it was he was asking about.

“She will be fine, just want to get her looked at. I’m sorry to ask, but do you think you could go in tonight to cover for her?”

Danny’s shoulders fell as he looked over at Sam again, waiting for him to give him any more clues about what was going on. “Yeah. I can do that, give me about fifteen minutes to get dressed and I’ll head over there”.

“Thanks, I owe you one”.

Danny hung up the phone and let out the long sigh he’d been holding in, then moved over to his closet to start getting ready.

“Where are you going?” Sam questioned, standing up off the bed and wrapping his arms around Danny’s waist in a feeble attempt to convince him to stay.

“Kim is sick, I’m going in to work to cover for her” he replied, pulling one of his black button ups out and tossing it onto his desk.

“Can’t anyone else go?” His arms tightened around him, pressing his now neglected erection into Danny’s hip with a purposeful whiny whimper. “What am I supposed to do about this?”

Danny’s lips pulled into a Cheshire grin. They were no longer going to get the night he envisioned, but he was not about to leave his lover high and dry.

“It will only take me five minutes to get dressed” he informed him, turning around in his arms and walking him backwards back to the bed. “Lay back down, you’ve got ten minutes to make this count”.

Sam wasn’t happy Danny had to go into work. Danny wasn’t exactly thrilled about it either, but he was at least pleased that he was trusted enough to be called in as Kim’s replacement.

Being Kim for the night proved to be a little more challenging than he’d expected though. It gave him more appreciation for her management style and how she was able to juggle helping with tables, answering a dozen and a half random questions at the drop of a hat, organizing the team and delegating tasks, all while being extra bright and friendly to the guests and staff alike.

Being the stand in dining room manager also meant he had to work side by side with the bar manager on duty tonight. Which of course was Savanna.

He didn’t expect much more than the bare minimum from her when he asked a couple of times for help, but when he got the cold shoulder the second time he decided at least having to figure it out by himself would be a learning experience.

Savanna ignoring him he understood, even felt like he deserved a little bit, but in the previous days this week Jake couldn’t seem to look him straight in the eye either. Let alone talk to him for more than a few short words here and there.

Danny wasn’t exactly sure what was getting to Jake, but he figured it must be something to do with the conversation they’d had in the garage back at his parents house. Jake was probably putting some distance between them which made sense, he only wished it didn’t feel like it had to be this way. That their friendship had to be kept within tight boundaries now otherwise toes might get stepped on.

Though all the extra time he spent with Sam was rewarding in more ways than one, he did miss hanging out with Jake. He was a cool guy, easy to be around, and he did always cook really good food when Danny came over.

Kim was the only one Danny still regularly met up with, though he figured their usual friend date this weekend would probably be canceled on account of her illness. Even then, she seemed a bit more reserved than usual during their brunches. By this point everyone in their circle knew of him and Sam dating, but still no one seemed to talk much about it very much. That made it feel even more like a dirty secret than it ever did before.

The one thing Danny wasn’t sure of was how much Jake had told Kim. Had he said anything to her about the two of them? They never really discussed what they were and were not comfortable talking about after everything all went down. Danny did prefer that only their very close friends know, if necessary at all, though he wouldn’t deny Jake his freedom to tell who he wanted his own history.

The more he thought about it, the more he considered Kim knowing everything would actually be a relief. He couldn’t exactly talk to Sam about these pent up feelings for missing Jake. No, Sam wouldn’t take that lightly. For some reason, telling Jake he missed him sounded a little too far out of line as well. Being able to talk to Kim about the mess in his head might actually help clear some things up for him.

They closed later than usual, having gotten behind during the chaos that was their dinner rush. Danny still felt good about all he did manage to accomplish tonight though, considering it was his first time closing solo without Jake or Kim guiding him.

He checked his phone for the first time in hours after climbing tiredly into his driver's seat. A few texts from Sam asking him how it was going, then about an hour later a text that said ‘guess you’re busy, goodnight’.

His heart clenched a little bit. He probably could have taken a quick break and slipped into the manager's office to text him back. If he had done that though, he might have said something in the moment about Savanna out of frustration.

Sam and her seemed to still be getting along well while at work. Danny tried not to let it bother him. He trusted Sam. Though he didn’t exactly believe she was just going to back down quietly after trying to get him back once already.

Just before he was about to start the car and head home another text came through, a text from Jake.

Thanks again for covering for Kim tonight. We got back from the hospital about a couple of hours ago. She has a really bad case of the flu but she’s medicated now and has been sleeping it off

1:03AM

He stared at the dim screen for a few minutes, debating on how to reply, before just hitting the contact and giving him a call. It rang only a couple of times before Jake answered quietly.

“Hello? Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine, just closed up. Wanted to call and check on you”.

Danny squeezed his eyes shut and let his head fall to the window with a muffled thump of his hair against the glass. Check on you? Jesus, could he be any more obvious? Kim was the one who was sick, he should be more concerned with how she’s doing.

“Oh, yeah I’m alright. Kim tried to fight me about going to the hospital at first so I tried my best to take care of her all day. Finally got to the point where I had to put my foot down and nearly carry her to the car”. He chuckled a little bit on the other end of the phone and Danny felt immediately relieved.

Jake really cared about Kim which made him extremely grateful that two of the most important people in his life right now were finding comfort and solace in each other. Everything should've been perfect by this point, what with him and Sam and Jake and Kim being together, but Danny couldn’t deny that something still felt off.

A silence fell between them while Danny attempted to collect himself. He was tired, drained both physically and mentally, and the jumbled twist of emotions within him were finally starting to take their toll. Digging their roots deep into the seams of his skull until he could feel them starting to crack the bone apart.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Danny questioned with his temple and shoulder still slumped against the door. Jake replied with a simple hum of his own raspy tired voice. “Do you ever wish that you loved me?”

The words came rolling out before he could stop and think about rephrasing them, or maybe even keeping them locked away like many of the other trifling thoughts he’d had.

Jake didn’t seem caught up by the question though, bursting out into a cute little fit of laughter that he tried to stifle quickly. He was probably still nearby Kim and didn’t want to wake her. “What? I do love you Danny”.

Danny’s blood ran warm. Like it did when he’d had one too many drinks, or when the right pull off a joint finally hit him.

“And Josh loves you, and Kim loves you, and Sammy loves you, we all do”.

Of course Jake wouldn’t think of answering that question any other way. Danny wasn’t even sure why he’d asked it in the first place. Perhaps other than his own selfish desire to please everyone to the point that he’d started to lose exactly who he was without the constant reassurance that he was loved by others.

He forced a chuckle to attempt to match Jake’s tone, like that’s exactly what he’d meant by that question. “You’re right, thanks for reminding me”.

“Thanks for checking in. I’ll talk to you later okay?”

“Of course, goodnight Jake”.

“Goodnight Dan”.

Jake let out a shaky breath when he heard the line go silent. Danny’s question rattled him.

What was he supposed to say? No? Jake knew all too well the sting of that simple word.

What if he were to tell the truth though? He never could. Not for Sam’s sake, he was already on thin ice with his brother in regards to Danny. And certainly not for Danny’s sake.

What good would it do anyone to dredge up feelings that had been washed away. Carried out to sea like tiny grains of sand from a beach somewhere far away.

He peaked back through the crack of his bedroom door, from the hallway where he’d hurried off to answer Danny’s phone call. Kim slept soundly, no doubt in a steroid induced slumber from all the meds they’d pumped her full of at the hospital. She was dehydrated, despite all the fluids he’d tried to persuade her with before he made the decision to take her.

Despite the day he’d had Jake wasn’t quite ready to go to bed just yet, but he didn’t want to bother Kim so he left the door cracked open and went downstairs.

After boiling some water, he poured it over a random tea bag from a stash he’d found Josh had left high up in the pantry. He took a sip of the hot herbal liquid and exhaled, it was pretty good, Josh always had excellent taste.

Jake sat down on his couch and picked up the remote as he continued to sip on his tea, flipping through the list of movies on the TV until he stopped at one that looked familiar though he couldn’t remember exactly what it was about. He selected the movie and saw that he had already watched it at some point. He hit play from beginning and sat back into the couch, watching intently as the flashing images started to make sense. He had watched this movie before, well at least started it before Danny came over and they… yeah he didn’t really watch the movie.

Deciding to give it a shot this time he watched until he finished his drink, getting up to place the mug in the sink before returning to lay on the couch.

Jake stared at the TV, but his head was filled with anything but the movie. One of his arms raised up to the back of the couch and he gripped the frame, feeling and remembering the way he’d gripped so tightly onto it that evening. Before he could think about what he was doing, his other hand came to rest high on his thigh and his breath started to pick up.

He didn’t remember what had happened in the movie, but his body remembered how it had felt with Danny’s hands all over him. His throat started to feel raw again, remembering the way he’d groaned and cried ‘more, harder’. His head fell back and he closed his eyes as the hand on his thigh crept across and he started palming himself over his pants.

There was hardly any friction, and he was too exhausted to worry about actually getting himself off, but his body relaxed as his hips started to roll forward in sync with the rubbing of his hand. It felt good, not just because he was lazily touching himself, but because of the rushing memories pumping through him.

Seeing Danny while being with someone else, drunk or not, was certainly not okay and he’d been trying to rectify that ever since by distancing himself a little more than he wanted to. Letting himself remember though, there was no harm in that right? He was alone down here and he just wanted to let go. So let go he did, until the memories faded away and his body went limp as sleep took over.

When Danny got home, his room was dark and empty as he changed into something warm and comfy to sleep in. He made his way down the hallway to go to the restroom once more before bed, but stopped by Sam’s door on his way back. He’d left it open, unusual for the times when he slept in his own room.

A light was still on as well, so he peaked inside and found Sam slumped over on his desk. A textbook was open in front of him, and his cell phone was on the charger but near his hand like it had fallen out of his grip when he fell asleep.

Danny sighed, Sam really could sleep anywhere, but he couldn’t leave him like that.

“Sam, come on let’s get you in bed”. He shook his shoulder, hardly waking him up as he helped Sam stand up. When he successfully got him vertical he was able to take in the state of him, and smiled at what he saw.

Sam had gone through his closet when he left and pulled out one of Danny’s old shirts from his highschool golf team. He hadn’t seen that shirt in at least over a year, so Sam must have really dug to the back of the closet to find it. Danny wondered if he had just been bored, or if Sam had gone looking for that shirt in particular.

“Mmm, I was having a good dream” Sam mumbled as he stumbled over to his bed, swinging around out of Danny’s grasp to plop down onto the edge.

“About what?” Danny indulged him by stepping forward, though he only intended to ensure Sam successfully got into bed and under the covers.

Sam’s mischievous smirk was illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp left on at his desk. Once Danny was within close enough range he reached up and grabbed his shirt collar then fell back onto the bed sending Danny tumbling forward on top of him. Danny barely caught himself with one hand on the bed and one on Sam’s shoulder, but Sam tugged him again and connected their lips.

“Shall we pick up where we left off?” He tried to seductively suggest by wrapping his legs around Danny’s waist as he continued to attack his lips with his own.

Danny let Sam kiss him, though he didn’t return the same energy. Not only was he physically not up for the task now, but mentally he wasn’t in the right place anymore.

“You’re insatiable” he chuckled lowly when he was able to pull back, trying to mask the true turmoil he was fighting within. Sam stared up at Danny with an uneasy questioning in his eyes, his legs falling limply to either side of Danny as he gently caressed the hair at the top of Sam’s head.

Earlier Danny was sultry and demanding in his words and actions. Sam had liked it, the way he controlled the moment and all Sam had to do was play along. Now Danny was light in his touches, easy with him like Sam was some porcelain doll he could break if he pressed too hard.

“What’s the matter?”

Danny sighed, but continued his petting. He leaned down to attempt to kiss his worries away, at least for tonight, but Sam turned away letting Danny’s kiss fall on his jaw instead. He looked again, his brows furrowing and his eyes repeating his question.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’ve really enjoyed this week together,” Danny hesitantly began, hoping that Sam wouldn’t take this the wrong way, “but I think we should slow down a bit again”.

He waited for Sam to reply, to ask more questions, anything, but all Sam did was forcibly push Danny off of him and roll over to crawl up to the head of the bed.

“Sam-”

“Get out” Sam cut him off, curling his legs towards his chest and pulling at the blanket underneath him.

“Sam, please don’t be mad at me” Danny begged, wishing now that he hadn’t said anything at all. He should have given Sam some other excuse and let this wait until morning.

“I don’t understand you Danny” Sam groaned, rubbing the leftover sleep from his eyes and face. “First you want to wait, then you don’t, and now you want to wait again? What’s changed? Is it because I said I wanted to fuck you? Did you think I was just always going to let you have it any way you wanted?”

“What? No!” Danny was stunned, did Sam really think that was a problem for him? He didn’t care about the logistics of who did what. He just wanted to make sure his mind was in the right place before they continued to get carried away with the physical side of their relationship.

Sam had said it himself at Christmas, he wished Danny would have talked to him first before they had sex. That’s what he was trying to do this time, talk to Sam about what was bothering him before trying to mask it, only he was failing horribly. What even was he trying to say? He didn’t know, but he knew he had to figure it out before he hurt anyone again.

“Didn’t you and Jake do it all the time? What’s the problem with me then?” Sam’s voice sounded his hurt which only made Danny quiver with grief.

Danny wasn’t surprised to hear Jake’s name come into question. Sam was smart, sometimes a little too smart for his own good, and he had an intuition that was incomparable to anyone else he’d ever met.

“No Sammy, there’s nothing wrong with you” he reached out to try and put a comforting hand on his knee, but Sam pulled his legs tighter to his chest. “There’s never been anything wrong with you, not ever. I'm just… a little mixed up right now”.

“Mixed up?” Sam scoffed which turned into a dark laughter as he moved to hide his face by landing his forehead on his knees. “How long have you been ‘mixed up’ exactly?”

That was a good question. Only Danny didn’t know the real answer, because there was more than one. It could have been since tonight, when he heard Jake’s voice over the phone and realized that it still made his chest uncomfortably tight. Or it could have been when he got that book in the mail that he’d given to Jake for Christmas, suddenly remembering the night he laid in Jake’s bed rummaging through his things while Jake showered. He’d thought at the time how intimate that was, being left alone in someone’s room surrounded by all their most personal belongings. He hadn’t intended to gift him the book when he’d ordered it that night, only slip it into its place alongside the others on Jake’s headboard. He had no reason to be in Jake’s bed anymore now, but he thought the book still deserved to be where it belonged. With who it belonged to.

“Okay then” Sam shakily exhaled, finally pulling the blankets up over his body and sliding down. “I want to go back to sleep now. I think it’s best we stay in our own beds until you’re not ‘mixed up’ any more”.

Sam’s words stung but he was right, so Danny didn’t contest. Instead he just leaned over and left him with a kiss to his crown and quietly left, turning out the light on his way.

When Sam heard the click of his door closing behind Danny he let out a hard choked sob.

Fucking Jake. He always got in the way. First with whatever his vendetta was against Savanna, and now Sam was afraid he might have stolen Danny away.

“You’ve gotten your flights already?” Danny questioned as he watched Sam start packing his bags for his trip in the next few days.

Since learningthat Sam was going to LA after graduation, they had talked about it only a handful of times. Though he had already given his answer to their offer, Sam wanted to visit once to get the lay of the land before really preparing to move.

Danny was going to go with him, but recently they had been trying to spend some time apart, so they decided Sam going alone was for the better.

Spending time apart didn’t mean completely abstaining from each other though. Sam still slept in Danny’s room a couple of times, yet cuddling and kissing had been the extent of their activities.

“Yeah, I have an early morning flight. Tomorrow night I’ll sleep in here so I won’t bother you when I get up”.

Danny stood up from where he had taken a seat at Sam’s desk and moved behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist and rested his chin on Sam’s shoulder. “You won’t leave without saying goodbye to me though will you?”

“We could say our goodbyes tonight if you wanted?” Sam suggested, letting his body lean fully against the weight of Danny on his back.

Danny nuzzled his nose behind the shell of Sam’s ear, breathing in his natural scent and letting the endorphins take him over. After the intoxicating smell, he decided he needed a little taste, so he pulled Sam’s lobe between his teeth and gave it a little nibble.

Sam let out a whimper, his body shaking slightly underneath Danny’s hovering form, and he twisted around in his grip so they could face each other. His arms came up to circle around Danny’s shoulders, and he pulled him down into a heated kiss, quickly parting Danny’s lips with his own and slipping his tongue inside for a taste of his own.

“You want to?” Danny asked just above a whisper, not letting their lips separate for long. Things still weren’t settled between them, but he couldn’t silence the desperation in the way his body talked, especially when Sam’s was sending him so many signals.

He felt Sam nod and tighten his grip, again answering without his words. “Do you want to go to my bedroom? Or stay in here?” Danny looked past Sam’s shoulder at the mess of clothes and bags sprawled out on his bed. He didn’t want to interrupt his packing but Sam didn’t seem to mind. He blindly reached behind himself and swiped his hand across the sheets, sending all his belongings tumbling onto the floor in an arrangement of soft and loud thuds, before sitting down and taking Danny along with him.

Here they were again, Sam was underneath Danny and he was bucking his hips upwards, trying to get any friction he could, as fast as he could before they could back track. He held Danny close by the collar of his shirt, and when Danny’s hands circled around his wrists to pull them off, he halted his movements and started up at him with the fear of being rejected again.

Danny’s expression didn’t read rejection this time though, no the fierceness had returned. The blacks of his eyes had blown wide, leaving only a small halo of mossy green behind and he peeled his shirt off before returning to kissing Sam.

Sam closed his eyes and let the fiery feeling sink into his skin and settle into the pit of his stomach as Danny trailed his kisses down to his neck. He wondered if Danny would leave any new marks on him where all the others had already faded.

“Want… Jake…” he heard Danny’s voice muffled against his shoulder, causing his eyes to snap open and his blood to run cold.

“What did you just say?”

Danny pulled back, unphased, and repeated what he’d said. “Want to take this off” he tugged at the collar of Sam’s shirt. “Can I?”

“Oh, yeah” Sam tried to steady his heart beat as he lifted his shoulders and helped Danny pull his shirt off.

“What did you think I said?” Danny chuckled, unaware of the mini heart attack he’d just given him.

“Nothing, nothing at all” Sam replied, wrapping his arms back around him and trying to keep going.

Danny let his hands trail down Sam’s torso, leaving behind a trail of goosebumps now that Sam was cold and still shaking.

Danny thought he was just really into it, which only urged him to do more. He kissed his chest, then his naval, then hovered above his groin as his fingers played with the waistband of his sweats. If there was anything he could do to make up for the last time, he knew this would be it.

Sam bit his lip and lifted his hips as Danny started to pull his pants down.

“…Jake… so good”.

“What?” Sam snapped again. Why the fuck did he keep hearing Jake’s name out of Danny’s mouth? And when it was so close to his faltering erection?

“I said”, Danny kissed his member over his underwear next, letting his hot breath linger there, “gonna make you feel so good”.

Sam reached down and pulled his last piece of clothing off, making Danny chuckle again at his impatience. “No more talking” Sam demanded, weaving his fingers through Danny’s hair and pushing him down.

Danny gladly took him in, bobbing his head up and down eager to please. Sam stared up at the ceiling, digging his fingernails into Danny’s scalp with each downward movement, trying to keep his concentration as best he could now that he’d been rattled a few times.

He attempted to close his eyes again, but when he did he pictured Danny on his knees in front of someone with long brown hair. At first he thought maybe he was picturing himself, but then they turned around and of course it was Jake.

“Goddammit!” Sam yelled, starting Danny off him.

“What? Did I hurt you?” Danny started to panic. He wasn’t sure what he’d done, but he’d been so focused on trying to do a good job he might not have noticed if he nicked him with his teeth or something.

“I’m sorry, I thought I could do this but I can’t”. Sam stood up off the bed and snatched his sweatpants up from off the floor, hurriedly stuffing his legs back into them and covering himself. He suddenly felt very exposed.

“Sam, talk to me, what’s the matter?”

Sam raked his fingers through his hair and shook his head, trying to get the images he’d been repressing over the past few days out of his head. “Every time I’m with you like this I can’t stop thinking about you and my brother! At first I thought it was a one time thing, but it just keeps happening, and it’s getting worse”. His voice came out louder than he’d intended, but he really was tired of this, tired of it all.

He thought maybe if he could get through one time, then go on his trip and let himself start to miss Danny, then he’d come home and things might just start to finally fall into place.

Danny stared at him blankly, which only pissed him off even more. “Why would you think of that?” He babbled dumfoundly, though in the back of his mind Danny knew the reasoning was obvious.

“I don’t know Daniel, maybe if…” he started to trail off, thinking finishing this thought out loud might do more harm than it would any good.

“Maybe what?” Danny pushed on, starting to get a little worked up himself. He couldn’t keep going around in circles like this, they had to hash this out now before they both started losing their minds.

“Maybe if you had said something sooner, before you and Jake ever… I mean if I’d had just known sooner then maybe things would be different”. His thoughts were coming out in a jumbled mess, but Danny was getting the gist of it. Sam tried to come to grips with the fact that he and Jake had been intimate many times before, but the truth was he hated it.

He hated that Danny felt like he couldn’t confess to him sooner, but somehow Jake was easy enough to open up to without all the extra fuss and complication that their whirlwind relationship had accumulated over the past few months.

He hated that he felt like maybe his brother would be a better lover than he ever could be.

“How was I supposed to tell you when you were with Savanna? You have nothing to lose with this Sam. You think if you went crawling back to her right now she wouldn’t take you back?”

“You think if you went to Jake he wouldn’t take you back?” Sam's voice was filled with venom now, biting at Danny for insinuating that he was the only one who had nothing to lose. Sam being afraid of losing Danny was the whole reason they’d gotten swept up like this together in the first place. He promised to give this a chance, see how far they could go together, but he was starting to think that the true beauty in their relationship lied in the way it was before.

He didn’t want to hurt Danny, and he could never hate him; Sam simply wasn’t capable of actually hating anybody. He just missed the effortlessness of their friendship.

“So what does this mean then?” Danny questioned after a moment of silence. They were in a standoff, standing in the middle of a shaky wooden bridge over a never ending gorge with their only options being pushing forward and hoping the fraying ropes wouldn’t snap, or going back to where they knew it was safe.

“I think you know what this means”. Sam couldn’t look him in the eye, couldn’t bring himself to see the way his words tore through Danny like he was ripping pages right out of a book. Pages that didn’t belong anymore, at least not in this story.

Sam wanted a break, a chance to get away and figure things out on his own without the constant pressure of others. Taking this trip now was probably the best thing that could happen for them. Sam would go away for a few days and when he got back hopefully they could sort this out once and for all.

“I understand Sam” Danny replied dejectedly, but at least there was no more anger in his tone. He couldn’t be angry at Sam, not when the both of them had made the choices that led them here.

He thought back to a comment Jake had made a while ago-

“Danny, you don’t regret anything we’ve done do you?”

The thing was, even with this outcome, Danny still didn’t regret anything. Because all the things he’d learned about himself along the way, and the confidence he grew, were what made him capable of even attempting this with Sam. If he had said anything sooner, he wasn’t sure he would have been ready to face everything they had and things could have ended up a lot worse.

“I’m going to go, let you finish packing up. I’ll see you in the morning, ok?”

“I’m sorry Daniel” Sam’s lips quivered as he spoke. Danny was holding himself together better than he’d expected he would, and he knew that was a good thing, but that didn’t mean he still wasn’t sorry.

“Don’t be,” Danny stood and placed his hands lightly on each of Sam’s shoulders mustering up the best half smile he could manage before giving him a feather light kiss on the cheek. “I still love you, I always will”.

Sam nodded and sniffled a little, wiping the corner of his eye before the tear could even fall. Danny was being strong for him, he knew he was, so he had to reel it in too. The thing was, he wasn’t crumbling because he thought this would be the end of them. He was letting it all out because he knew it was the right decision.

The next day Danny tiptoed around Sam, wanting to still spend time with him before he left, but not wanting to overstep any new boundaries he knew they’d have to establish eventually.

The day seemed to drag on, but at the same time he felt like after he cried himself to sleep that night, when his eyes finally did shut, they were open again the next morning and Sam was gone.

Now that he had the space to himself he knew he could begin to collapse. He could open the floodgates and let the rush of emotions he kept damned up sweep through him until every nerve in his body had eroded away.

Something told him if he let that happen though, he might not be able to plug it back up when Sam returned, so instead he looked for distractions.

The first distraction was cleaning, but the problem was he and Sam were actually pretty tidy people to begin with, so there wasn’t much for him to do there.

The second distraction was work. He’d picked up an extra shift knowing he was going to be antsy and in a bad mood while Sam was gone. He realized though that the monotony of doing the same thing he always did, taking orders, tidying up the dining room when he had the chance, and stocking menus and utensils didn’t help keep his mind from telling him over and over again that he wasn’t good enough.

By the time his shift was finally over he was ready to bolt out the door, but he was dreading going back to an empty home. So instead Danny drove around for a while, thinking he could head to the library and maybe studying would keep him distracted, but he didn’t want to run into any classmates while he was in this state.

Eventually his car came to a stop on a familiar street and he waited outside, debating on if he should even attempt walking up to the door.

Danny held his breath as he knocked. There wasn’t an answer right away, but his car was also parked outside so Danny was pretty sure he was home. He jumped a little at the sound of the door unlocking, forcing him to breathe again as Jake opened the door.

“Hey, what's up?” Jake asked, surprised to see Danny at his doorstep unannounced. He took one good look at Danny and immediately knew something was wrong. “Wait, are you alright?”

Danny opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was an incoherent jumble of “Sam… gone… broke up” as tears started to well up again.

Jake threw his arms around Danny and tried to console him and he drug him inside, shutting the door behind them with a kick of his bare foot.

He sat Danny down on his couch and crouched down in front of him, waiting patiently as he caressed one of Danny’s hands until the tears started to run out.

Once Danny was done he moved to sit next to him, not letting his hand go and sympathetically asked him,

“Tell me what happened”.

@alwaysonthemend @psychedelicstardust-gvf @twistedmelodies @heckingfrick

#greta van fleet #greta van fic #greta van smut #danny wagner #jake kiszka #sam kiszka #gvf #sanny gvf #janny gvf

[nicohischierz]

hey can we have a pt. 2 of what happens with mark after your most recent mark fic? just with a bit of angst and fluff is that’s okay!! thank uuuu

seeing as luke and ethan had everything sorted you grabbed mark’s hand and pulled him out of the house towards your own place.

“mark, you can’t just go around punching people whenever you feel pissed off. this isn’t hockey mark there are more consequences!” you chastised.

mark just scoffed and stormed up to his room. you waited downstairs, the sound of his door slamming giving you an insight as to how the rest of the night would play out.

the rest of the sophomores came home and knew that mark was in one of his moods. “you can sleep on my room y/n/n. i’ll take the couch,” ethan offered sitting next to you.

you tried not to cry as tears filled you eyes. even though mark would get frustrated often he would always acknowledge you or at least tell you that he was alright.

the next morning you were woken up by the sound of doors slamming and furniture being moved around.

“in what world is it acceptable to make a move on your best friends girl?” mark yelled as he held ethan against the wall.

dylan was trying to get mark to put him down but it was no use as mark disregarded his smaller friend. at the time you wondered how luke and mackie weren’t awake yet but you also knew they knew better than to argue with mark.

“what is going?” you asked in a calm tone.

it was evident you had been crying the night before so when mark looked up guilt filled his chest. mark dropped his friend and rushed over to you and like a child he hide his face in your stomach as you stood on the steps.

“i’m so sorry,” he whispered.

you sighed and ran your fingers through his hair. “you have someone else to apologise to,” you reminded him, gesturing to ethan.

“look man i’m sorry. i was on a short fuse yesterday and i thought something happened between the two of you,” he apologised to ethan.

the edwards boy shook his head and brought his best friend in for a hug. “don’t worry about it. besides y/n/n, is the annoying sister i don’t have,” he teased.

#mark estapa imagine #nicohischierz request

[yymiya]

how pure, how sweet a love — thoma x gn!reader

Thoma only knows how to give and give and give. He spoils you, really.

tags: gn!reader, fluff, smut, service top thoma, mentioned subspace, voyeurism, masturbation, fingerfucking, oral sex, penetrative sex, creampie

wc: 4.1k

ao3 link

The low thrum of song is what rouses you in the early morning.

A sweet-sounding tune. Not one your sleep-addled mind knows or recognises with clarity, but a few low notes are familiar, fusing with the dry taste of sake and the ebb and flow of waves across the shore as you had splashed and ran through cold water, the moonlight drifting down.

Right. He had hummed it then too, just last night. A Monstadtian lullaby passed down his family line.

Thoma startles when your fingers tangle in his bedhead, voice cracking into a surprised noise as he peeks through absurdly long lashes. A saccharine smile spreads across his face, and he slowly blinks away the fuzzy blur of his vision to see you. “Hey there, sleepyhead. Welcome back.”

“How long have you been awake?” Your voice is scratchy with disuse.

“No more than ten minutes. Did you sleep well?”

You yawn. The last of yesterday’s tension dissipates from your shoulders when he takes your cheek in his palm, and you nuzzle his hair to hide how flustered the simple gesture makes you. “Yeah. I always sleep well after you take care of me.”

Thoma laughs softly, pride swelling in his chest. A full night’s rest is the favourable outcome of hours of play—coaxing you to the edge with only his fingers and tongue, time after time until you lay docile and pliable beneath him, all troubled thoughts melted into sticky treacle.

You both smell like mint; he must have washed your hair after you drifted off in the bath.

“I’m so glad, baby. So glad,” he murmurs, tucking you into the crook of his neck. He’s so gentle with you, it aches your heart. “I only wish you’d told me sooner that it was what you needed.”

“I didn’t want to take up your time when there’s already so much you have to do—”

The words melt on your tongue when he pries your chin up from his shoulder, his brow creasing. “Please don’t worry about that. I’m busy, yes, but I will always make time for you. I much prefer your company to housework, okay?”

“Sap,” you whisper.

Still, you tilt upwards and capture his smooth lips in a kiss. It’s chaste, sweet. In your veins, your blood simmers, blooming warmth through your body with every languid stroke of his tongue and the shifting, comfortable pressure of his calloused hand working across your spine. 

This softer side of him delights you. His boyish charms crumble, giving way to something imperfect and unpolished, something raw.

When he draws back, your lips are numb, and Thoma looks equally affected. His eyes are heavy, dilated as they follow the movement of your tongue passing over your lips in an attempt to savour his taste, leaving them glistening with saliva.

Gods. The things he makes you feel, watching you like that.

“Another,” you demand breathlessly. 

He obliges and presses a lingering kiss to the corner of your mouth. Displeased, you angle to meet him halfway but he evades you with a mischievous laugh, and you’re too riddled with sleep to catch his lips, each attempt falling short.

A noise of frustration snags in your throat. “Thoma…”

“Mmmh.” His body stretches off the bed, catlike as he pops his joints and cracks his stiff knuckles. When he settles again, his eyes are alive with his proclivity for bad behaviour. “Is there something you’re after?”

Glaring, you bat his shoulder. “You’re not funny.”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry,” he croons, not sounding at all apologetic. “Come and take your kiss. I can’t stand seeing you frown, you know.”

Despite the certainty that he’s teasing you, your lips find his. He’s warm, searing your fingertips when you clutch onto his bicep to ground yourself. You sometimes get so swept away in his reverent touches and soft-spoken, honeyed promises that tethering yourself to him, to reality, is necessary.

There’s no place else to go when he cups your face in his large palm, rolling over until half of his weight is leaning on your shoulder. Not that you could ever dream of it; the very thought of being someplace void of his presence stings your chest dreadfully. You can’t imagine going without his good-natured teasing, the sentimental notes he scatters between pages of books and beneath pillows, the added warmth of his crimson jacket and the sweet treats he hides away in its pockets for you to discover. 

He’s everywhere. You drown in him contentedly.

It’s not until your lips part that you notice you’ve been slurring his name, jumbling the syllables with moans and mindless pleas for more.

“Ah,” Thoma realises. The corners of his eyes crinkle as he smiles and cradles his dominant hand against his chest, carefully massaging along the tendons. “I’m sorry, baby. My hand is sore because of last night. I wouldn’t be very good.”

As if he’s without other means of getting you off. Still, you’re in no position to be making demands, so you fall back against the mound of pillows with a thwump and cast him a sidelong glance. “If I do it myself, will you watch?”

A smile. “Of course.”

Thoma’s thumbs hook under the waistband of the pyjamas you had thieved from his drawer, dragging them down your legs once you lift your hips. He pets your inner thigh as you shimmy out of your underwear and kick the garment to the bottom of the bed, followed quickly by your—well, his—shirt.

“Pass me the oil?” you ask, though he doesn’t shift. A glimmer of light sets his face aglow with golden shades, reflecting in his wandering eyes as he shamelessly admires you in his bed with a small grin. “The oil, Thoma.”

“Right,” he startles, twisting his body and retrieving the vial from the bedstand. The little liquid contained sloshes against the glass, and you snatch it from his outstretched palm with a click of your tongue. “I’ll take a trip into the city this afternoon and buy some more.”

“It was full yesterday. You use so much in one go, it’s a wonder we have any left at all.”

“Hey! I just promised to replace it, didn’t I?”

“I’m teasing,” you reassure him, flicking his forehead. “Relax.”

Thoma rubs at the skin with his lips tightly pressed together in disapproval, and rolls his eyes when you look to him, having not heard a retort. You subdue a smile. This man.

The oil is cool as you drizzle it onto your fingers and spread the substance between them until it warms, meanwhile Thoma’s throat bobs at the lewd sound, and he presses a palm to his hardening cock as if it would assuage the ache there. “Be nice and gentle, okay? You might still be sensitive.”

You want to laugh, tease him for only just worrying about overstimulation when he had his fun with it last night, but the thought is forgotten when he pushes open your thighs, putting you on display. All you manage is a mumbled, untrue, “I’m always gentle.”

He rolls his shoulders to feel the scratched skin of his back erupt into a dull ache. “I beg to differ.”

A slight lift of your hips has Thoma scrambling to slot a pillow beneath them, before replacing his hands on your thighs and pushing you even wider. There’s a grin on his face as you circle your entrance with a frustrated pout, and he succumbs to the urge to press his thumb against the kiss-bitten flesh and smooth away that expression, but you instinctively take it into your mouth instead.

The look you give, bleary-eyed and wanting, tells him enough—you wish it were his fingers teasing you in lieu of your own. After all, they’re longer, rougher, much more assured in steadily taking you to the brink of coming undone. His hands are so lovely. He’s so lovely. You can’t help but want all of him, especially hidden away in the quiet, calm corner of his bedroom with the familiar weight of his body against your side.

All of him. You need it.

“I know, pretty,” he coos, absentmindedly stroking your jaw. You must have been mumbling nonsensical words muffled by his skin. You’ve still not put your fingers in, besotted with his ever-changing and attentive expression. “It’s okay. You can do it yourself, can’t you?”

In place of a verbal answer, you nod, slipping a finger inside and shuddering at the feeling—Thoma had been right to assume your body is sensitive and a bit tender, but it doesn’t hurt. Regardless, he checks, cupping the back of your hand with his palm in preparation to ease you away if it’s too much. You can do it yourself but there are few things more satisfying than allowing him to decide on your behalf, to see his pleased smile when you yield to him.

A kiss left at the corner of your eye. “Careful, now. Not too much.”

You sink down to the knuckle and your mouth goes slack around his thumb, saliva bleeding into the corner of your lips. Thoma tsks and dips down to lick it away, pulling out of your mouth so he can kiss you properly. Somehow, that feels better than the pressure of your finger against your sweet spot, and you moan against him.

“Thoma,” you breathe. You want him, not your fingers. “Please, I—”

“Come on, sweetheart. Isn’t this what you do when I’m gone? Don’t let me distract you.”

You huff. “But you are distracting.”

Cruel, too. To have you here without being fucked senseless, to be within reach yet so elusive.

He laughs and taps the hand between your legs. “Add another.”

Automatically, you press your ring finger in along with your middle and resume stroking your front walls with a shaky moan, all but melting when Thoma praises you under his breath. 

He’s all you can focus on. Keepsakes lining his shelves and forgotten leather journals blur into a kaleidoscope of mellow colours, and the walls of his bedroom fold and scatter, gone with the drift of birdsong outdoors. Instead, the sight of him floods your brain—the curve of his cheekbone, the soft line of his jaw, the dip of his clavicle that gives way to a smooth expanse of freckled, sunkissed skin.

Your eyes reopen—had you closed them?—and Thoma is kneeling between your legs with his long fingers splayed across the skin of your inner thighs. It should feel embarrassing to be spread open like this, exposed, but there’s none of that with Thoma.

He must want to take over, and your pace falters as a result. “No, keep going,” he urges, and your fingers curl upwards to nudge deeper. “There you go, that’s it. I’ll help you out a little, okay?” 

Your dry throat burns with relief, and you barely remember to jerk your head into a nod. “Thank you.”

“You have to continue using your fingers, though. Otherwise, I’ll stop.” The unwavering draw of his face reveals that he’s serious, and you kick a foot out in protest, catching his shoulders. He’s unfazed. “Can you promise to do that?”

“Yes.”

“Promise me.”

“I promise.”

A sunny grin spreads across his face, and your heart flutters at the sight. You expect him to squeeze one of his fingers in alongside yours, but the hands rubbing over your thighs don’t move any further.

You can never wholly prepare for how his mouth feels.

The gasp that tears from your throat is nothing short of obscene, and Thoma hushes you before tilting forward to lick and suck you. It’s messy—your hand is trapped by his throat, movements restricted, and the saliva dripping from his eager tongue is getting all over the sheets—but it feels so nice. He spoils you, really.

Time seems to dwindle, breaks and falls away. Your fingers are still moving steadily inside of you, though you don’t feel as though you’re moving them. Your body doesn’t seem like your own, interspersed between numbness and bliss, the sensations crawling across your limbs and permeating your brain.  

You’re not sure how long it takes for the pleasure to heighten to a tight pressure in your lower stomach, how long Thoma has kept you here, but the moment his pretty lips wrap around you and he sucks hard, your free hand threads into his hair and tugs on the tousled strands in a warning.

“Almost there, baby?”

His voice is so, so sweet like sugary candy, and you nod helplessly. “Yes, I’m— hah—Thoma, please…”

“It’s all right,” he soothes, flicking his tongue against you. Your vision’s blurring. “Just give me one, and then I’ll reward you. Okay, pretty?”

A reward? The mere prospect has you hot all over. Everything Thoma doles out is perfect, but his rewards are undeniably your favourite—always worthwhile. 

You breathe shakily. “Okay.”

There’s a litany of slick, wet noises as you fuck yourself on your fingers and Thoma redoubles his efforts, spitting and lewdly sucking like a man starved. The room is balmy, but you can focus on neither that nor the sheen of sweat clinging to you when it feels as though a livewire has been pressed to your skin.

Archons, is he good. You could lie here forever in the pale light, allow his love to smother you. You just might.

Your voice catches somewhere between a moan and a whine as you caution him with a cry of his name, muscles tensing. He only hums against you, and the vibration of it is too strong, too much, coursing through you alongside the heady pleasure only he knows how to bring.

He presses in a finger alongside yours, grinding harder against your sweet spot, and your body seizes up.

It drags on for ages—a long, wavering moment during which you feel nothing but overwhelming calm. Each second that your skin is awash with heat feels like ten, and Thoma’s voice sounds slower and distant like you’re wading through water, the rush of waves filling your ears.

His hands bring you back.

They rouse you from this syrupy daze with practised ease, skimming and stroking and rubbing and touching until you stir in response to each fleeting press of warmth. You find his hand at your hip, clasping onto it.

“—okay? You were perfect for me, sweetheart.”

You blink once, twice. Thoma doesn’t at all mind waiting while your vision reorients, his countenance tinged with vivid whites and golds that makes him appear seraphic. Or maybe that’s the morning sun pouring in through the window—had he opened it? You hadn’t felt the bed move, but the cool air feels refreshing on your sweat-slicked skin.

After a moment, he emerges above you with kind eyes and a kinder smile. “There you are.”

You say something. It sounds clear to you, but Thoma’s brow furrows and he offers a quizzical look. You try again. “My reward, Thoma.”

He laughs, long and melodic, as he wipes the sweat from the side of your face. You’re love-drunk, and so, so smitten that you can’t help but giggle with him.

“Do you want it now?”

“Do I want it now?” you mumble sarcastically, squirming against the covers to find a more comfortable position. He props another pillow beneath your head. “Yes, I want it now, dolt.”

“Aw, come on, baby. Don’t be a brat,” he laughs and slides a hand under your nape to bring you up for a quick kiss. His lips are warm, plush. You kiss him again. “At this rate, I’ll be left with no reason to fill you up with my cum. We don’t want that, do we?”

“No, I’m sorry,” you reply dazedly. Your entire body aches with need. “I want it, Thoma, please. I’m sorry.”

He hadn’t come a single time last night. Considering how entangled he’s been in the Kamisato Clan’s affairs as of late, he’s bound to be awfully pent up, and you’re eager to help.

“Tell me again,” he whispers.

“I want it.”

“Again.”

“Thoma,” you grouse, pinching his arm. “Stop teasing me.”

Chuckling, he bends down and presses his lips against your forehead. “Where’d you put the oil?”

You heave out an impatient groan, patting aimlessly around the mattress to locate the shape of the vial. You find it somewhere nestled between the pillows, and hold it out for him to take. He doesn’t. “Do it for me, baby. Come on.”

Indignation flares within you, but you want him too badly to protest. The last of the oil is spilled across your palm, and by the time the vial is lost amongst the sheets, he’s undressed and sits on his knees before you. 

You reach for his cock—long and flushed pink, bobbing against his stomach with every small movement—and feel its weight in your palm. He’s so wet, too. Dribbling precum over your knuckles and into the gaps between your fingers. The oil is hardly necessary.

Selflessness is the reason he gets like this. He spends so long wringing every reaction from you that he forgets to take care of himself, and you’re too fucked-out to tell him to be more selfish. What’s more, his packed schedule keeps him from jerking off and he’s far too dignified to do so in between errands.

Heat coils in your stomach as you stroke him until his cock glistens with oil and precum, leaking into your hand. The rosy head peeks through your fingers with every drag of your palm, and you glance upwards to see Thoma press his fist to his mouth in a futile attempt at remaining composed.

There’s a part of you tucked away somewhere that wants to ruin him as he ruins you, to feel what he does when he pulls you apart.

He’s painfully hard, now. Fucking your fist in earnest like he’ll die if he doesn’t come over the side of your hand, your stomach.

“Inside,” you plead.

Wordlessly, Thoma hoists you up by the waist, disturbing the slew of pillows and blankets to put you on your front. Your face turns to the side so you can glimpse his changing expression as he rubs his cock along you then sinks in deep, dropping to press his forehead between your shoulder blades with a groan.

Your gasp is muffled by a pillow as your body jolts further up the bed. “Thoma—”

“I know, I— ngh— know.”

You’re finally full, the emptiness replaced by the stinging stretch of his cock. He gently rocks his hips, barely even thrusting, but it sets you alight all the same. Each kiss he leaves along the length of your spine, each gentle bite across your shoulders has your skin prickling with heat until all your mind can think to do is whine and writhe.

“Stop moving,” he gasps. His sweaty face buries into the crook of your neck, but his breath fanning across your damp skin makes you squirm more. “You’re making it difficult to— gods…”

To hold back, he means. Ridiculous.

Thoma is careful. He refuses to give any more than what he believes you can handle, so when he does fuck you and pushes his cock deeper than his fingers can reach, he’s slow. It’s often straddling the backs of your thighs and grinding into you like he has all the time in the world, or having your legs tightly around his waist.

You want him to be rougher, but Thoma has a way of turning your mind to mush so you can’t form the thought, let alone convey it to him that you need to be fucked brainless. There’s no telling whether the words leave your mouth or if they remain chiselled into the grey matter of your brain.

Frustrated, you throw an arm back in an effort to smack him and get him to do something, but he catches your hand and pins it against the mattress with your fingers twined together.

“Come on,” you implore to no avail. His weight keeps you pressed against the mattress, rendering you unable to shift for a semblance of friction. “Thoma, please…”

He takes a trembling breath. “It— it doesn’t hurt, does it?”

“Archons’ sake, move.”

This time, Thoma listens. The first sharp thrust punches the air from your lungs in a strained gasp, leaving you with nothing more than the calloused warmth of his palm in yours to keep you grounded. Above you, he makes a pained noise as sweat beads at his hairline, still holding himself back.

You tighten around his cock and hike your hips higher in a desperate attempt to entice him. When he next speaks, his voice is much closer, gruffer than you had thought. “Can I—”

“I’m going to punch you if you don’t.”

That’s all the incentive he needs to draw back almost entirely before slamming inside. The pace he sets soon after isn’t a far cry from relentless, bruising. He’s always so gentle,  treating you with the utmost care that this has you off-kilter and scrambling for purchase on the pleated quilt. You jerk his hand and he pulls your hips higher, bullying his cock deeper into you.

“Tho— mmh— harder, Thoma…”

You think you’re crying.

“Shhh,” he soothes, endlessly driving forward as though entranced. With each harsh thrust, his leaking cock grinds against your sweet spot, sending sharp spikes of pleasure rushing up your spine and simmering your nerves. “You feel so good, sweetheart. For me, yeah?”

Frantically, you nod your head then burrow your face into the pillows. They’re cool and calm your warm skin but each open-mouthed kiss he drags down your neck sets you aflame again.

You’re wrecked, no doubt, but he’s no better—panting and grunting into your skin, pounding into you with abandon. You wish he’d taken you on your back instead so you could see his face. His eyes flicker wildly, unseeing, and he flushes from his ears down to his chest. He has a habit of chewing on his lip until it cracks and bleeds, often not realising until he pulls away from a kiss and sees the wine-red smeared across your mouth. Even that gets him hot.

At the thought, heat twists in the pit of your stomach and you seize around him, moans choked by the pillow that’s damp with spit and tears.

You come for a second time like that, squeezing his hand like he’s your last tether to reality.

Thoma’s spewing apologies interrupted by high whines as he doesn’t let up, continuing to fuck you in spite of your oversensitivity.

You try to say it’s fine. That he can use you as much as he needs, again and again until there’s nothing more for him to give, but all that leaves your throat is a garbled, incoherent whine of his name. He mutters a swear under his breath, its vulgarity burning your cheeks as his hips falter in rhythm.

“Just a second more, fuck,” he grunts, slamming into you with finality. You take all of him, every inch, every press of his fingertips into your skin, every drop of thick cum he spills into you. The sheer amount of it makes you feel impossibly full, impossibly warm. “You’re so beautiful. So, so gorgeous, my love.”

Your face is wet with tears when you turn it to the side. “You—”

“Look at me, hey,” he whispers. You do, and he rolls his hips into you again, fucking into his mess. “I love you.”

A laugh, watery and shaking. “You sappy bastard.”

“Really? I’ve never heard that one before.” His hand strokes your hair, still shallowly thrusting into you. In the back of your mind, you realise his cock is throbbing once more.

“Again, Thoma.” 

You don’t need it. He had already tended thoroughly to you last night, and then some. But Thoma, on the other hand, he grows harder with every passing second. You’ll be damned if you’re not as acutely aware of his needs as he is yours. What he’s longing for is more.

“Come on, fuck me again.” You meet his hips, tempting.

“Sorry, just… just once more, okay?”

“As many times as you need,” you correct, “Until you’re satisfied.”

“I don’t—”

“You do. Besides, I’ve not had enough.”

“No?” His voice pitches upwards with the syllable, his throat bobbing as he swallows thickly. The hand braced against your hip twitches.

You grin, craning your neck with eyes glistening with unshed tears and mischief. Thoma’s fingers tighten, stinging your flesh. “Now, Thoma.”

His eyes fog over, expression cracking. “All right, all right, yeah.”

#thoma #thoma x reader #thoma smut #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #fics

[pr3ttym3ssy]

It happened again. Some days are easier for Chrissy to handle, but today her mother’s short fuse went up and burned out along with Chrissy’s patience. Venom laced words, “you’ve gained a pound again!”, “if you go up a size more, that skirt will no longer fit and theirs only so much I can do!”. And Chrissy couldn’t handle being in her house any more, so she leaves to school earlier than usual. 

She’ll usually get driven to school by Steve and Billy, but she opted out on that all together. She would apologize to Billy when she saw him at school, but she just couldn’t stay there anymore.

Classes go on and they pass in a flash, and before she knows it its already lunch time. She grabs her tray and semi loads it with an apple, strawberry jello in a cup, and a ham sandwich. She’s about to reach for the carton of orange juice when she hears, “hey do you mind if I cut in front of you”. It’s Billy charming his way in line to stand beside her. She wasn’t expecting to see him so soon, then again no better time than now with half the school in the cafeteria. 

“Hey Cunningham, we missed you this morning. Steve honked a couple times and your dad came out and said you had already left.” She didn’t meet his gaze, paid for her lunch and started heading for their usual table. After Eddie graduated, it became just them two. Billy couldn’t really tolerate a lot of people, and since they practically hung out all the time because of Steve and Eddie. They began a friendship of sorts and stuck together most of the time. 

Besides the obvious high school bull shit that kept them both occupied, Billy was in basketball and with her being a cheerleader, they saw a lot of each other. Eddie also constantly pestered Billy to keep and eye on her due to her situation. Besides all that, they understood each other. They had shared to each other scenarios and stories. Billy had an idea of how bad it could get with her mother, and he would share about the days during away games where he would wince and or be extra wary of the guys around him bumping into his bruises. How they were not accidental bruises and his father played a literally heavy hand in how they appeared. She’s seen him play, he’s graceful and hardly clumsy. So it was easy to put two and two together after that.

“Chrissy”, Billy catches up to her and sits opposite of her facing each other. “What’s wrong”, his eyes are gentle but his gaze is furrowed, and it’s so off brand to see him like this. She likes it though. It’s nice to see him smile or show any other emotion besides anger or annoyance. She can see why Steve and everyone is so taken by him. Concern dripping in how he says her name, makes her feel even worse. She hates that she’s making him worry.

“Nothing, Billy I’m fine”, she lies.

“Bullshit Cunningham. I have a younger sister. You think I don’t hear that lie all the time. You’re not fine.” He crosses his arms over the table and lowers his voice, “so spill, we’ve got all of lunch.”

Chrissy’s eyes meet Billy’s for a second and she unconsciously worries her lower lip in her teeth, “It was my mom again. This morning. We did a weigh in and she measured me again too. I went up a pound and two inches in size. She just -- I couldn’t stay there. I’m sorry I bailed this morning.” 

Billy scoffed for a second and sighed with a loss of what to say, beside a “what a bitch”. Chrissy’s eyes went to her tray of untouched food. She didn’t have anything to say. She knew it was pathetic, she couldn’t stand up for herself but Billy’s words cut her thoughts. “Chrissy, you know that’s stupid right? Theirs no way she can complain when you’re practically all bones right now. It’s not healthy.” 

Chrissy’s eyes remain on her tray as she listens. Her stomach is grumbling painfully and she wants to eat but can’t seem to get over the fear of her mother’s wrath. Her anxiety gets the better of her and she starts messing with the hem of her jacket sleeve under the table giving her hands something to do. “Chrissy”, she finally meets Billy’s stare and she realizes that his hands are stretched out to her on the table palms up. She slides her hands into his and he squeezes. 

Billy takes a moment to find the words and doesn't let go of her hands, “you don’t owe her anything. Your well being is far more important then her trying to relive her life in you. You need to eat okay, none of this fasting and skipping meals. Eddie will have my hide if I don’t knock some sense into you. Besides you’re a cheerleader and a kick ass one at that, and your mother is an idiot. You burn off what you eat while cheering, you’re bound to be hungry. So she can get over herself.” 

He grabs his vanilla pudding and places it on her tray with a light thump. “Eat up Cunningham. Not saying you gotta finish but, please you gotta eat something. Okay?” She smiles a tight lipped smile and her nerves melt away. She nods grabbing her plastic spoon and opens the aluminum foil cover of the pudding. His eyes are stern and they linger but he starts eating once he’s satisfied. They eat in a short silence and Billy picks up about the new Motley Crue tape he bought and was playing in the morning in Steve’s car. They laugh when he mentions about how Steve complains but Billy knows he secretly actually enjoys the music.

After school, Steve and Eddie are waiting to pick them up. Eddie gets out of the passenger side of the car to open the back door for Chrissy and he kisses her hello before she steps in. Billy makes his way to the front and looks around before he gives a quick peck at Steve. 

“Babe, so we were thinking about heading out of Hawkins and going to the next  town over tonight. We want to try out this diner that Robin told us about” Eddie says enthusiastically to Chrissy. “Robin said Vickie told her the pancakes there are superb. Their actually going to meet us there.” 

“Pancakes? Are you guys stoned?” Billy pipes up and turns to look to Eddie. “We are two hours sober. Also I’m starving and I want pancakes for dinner.” Eddie grins like a shark and Chrissy just giggles. “I second that”, Steve says as he starts to pull out of the school parking lot. 

Chrissy just laughs and looks at Billy. Their eyes knowingly meet and he sends a friendly wink at her. Like they share a secret only they know. 

“You fucking meat heads” Billy says as he grabs Steve’s hand and intertwines their fingers in the center console. 

Chrissy lays her head against Eddie shoulder and sighs content as he locks their hands together. “How was school?” Eddie asks. She can honestly reply, “ it was good.” 

#eddsy #harringrove #eddie munson #chrissy cunningham #Billy Hargrove #steve harrington #stranger things 4 #stranger things #its late but I couldn't let this go #sorry if this sucks #sleep deprivation makes me cheesy #billy and chrissy would totally be besties #tw eating disorder

[side-shuffling-hyperfixations]

Hissy Fit

Summary: A bad day, a short fuse and a brother in need incite one of Peter Two's new defensive instincts to rear its unexpected head.

“Okay. Not that I’m complaining, not that I don’t appreciate it or anything,” Peter One began as soon as the apartment door slammed closed behind them, “but I’d kind of like to talk about what just happened.”

“I’d kind of like to not do that,” Peter Two shot back in the same tone as he approached, “which will give us the time we need to focus and make sure you’re okay instead.” Though his face was set in stone, betraying very little of his previous anger, Peter One could sense it; he could practically feel it vibrating in his brother’s fingertips as he swept stray curls back from his face, inspecting his forehead and hairline for any damage. “Hmm. No open wounds, that’s good.”

“Dude, stop! I’m totally fine, it’s not even gonna bruise,” Peter One protested, batting his hand away, “so can we address this brand new defense mechanism we just witnessed?”

Huffing in exasperation, Peter Two spread incredulous arms. “What’s to talk about?”

“Well, for starters, are you okay?” Peter Three ventured uncertainly. “I can count on…no hands the times we’ve seen you go off like that. Rageful and bitter, that’s my shtick.”

“So what, I’m supposed to be a passive bystander? I’m Spider-Man! I see someone grab my brother by the hair and slam his face into an alley wall and I’m not allowed to be a little pissy about it? I didn’t see you doing anything to help him!” 

Peter Three’s only response to that was to raise his eyebrows and his hands in surrender and Two sighed with irritable resignation, pinching the bridge of his nose as he collected himself. 

“I’m sorry. It was…good, it was right that you didn’t. You kept yourself in check better than I did. I just…I was already having a bad day. Barely got any sleep last night, then you know I had to skip breakfast so I could help the police break up that anti-hero protest in the east end. While I was there some kids stole my patrol pack so I had to track them down, and MJ’s back home thinking I’m mad at her for some reason so she’s not answering my calls…Overall, just a messy morning. Then seeing that, seeing them push you around and you refusing to fight back…”

“I can take it,” Peter One reminded him earnestly.

“You shouldn’t have to.”

“Yeah, well, whatever it takes to make sure no one suspects anything. I won’t risk my identity again, ever again.” After a beat of sober silence, Peter One cleared his throat and folded his arms with more authority so he could force a U-turn to his prior topic of interest. “Anyway, that isn’t the point. I’ve taken a lot worse, you know it, I’m all good. Thanks for asking. But what we really need to ask about is the latest spider-ism we get to add to your list!”

“Seriously? This is how you’re coping with the whole thing, by latching onto some random little detail like that?”

“Not random, not little. Your instincts are evolving! It’s another new adaptation. As far as either of us know, you’ve never done it before, right?”

“Right, okay, I haven’t! And with any luck I’ll end up never doing it again so can’t we just forget about it? It wasn’t a big deal!” The tips of Two’s ears were turning pink, betraying embarrassment even as he tried to dismiss it.

“Peter Two, my good sir, my brother in spider-hood,” Peter Three began, clasping his hands together, “you actually straight up hissed at them. Unironically.”

Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Peter Two grumbled lowly. “Yeah, well, I blame you guys. It’s your fault my subconscious strategies have needed to adapt in the first place.”

Self-conscious though he may be about this surprise development, they were well aware that he wouldn’t have it any other way. Some things, some people were meant to be defended. Peter Parker knew it; this was merely proof that the spider within the man knew it too. It was in their nature.

#marvel #spider man #spider man no way home #mcu #raimi spider man #the amazing spider man #fanfiction #peter parker #peter two #peter three #tom holland #tobey maguire #andrew garfield #protectiveness #spider-isms #brotherly bonding #brotherly love

[mizumi-kahago-writing]

I know the algebraic expression of L-O-V-E [Kamunami/Hinanami & Yandere!Chiaki] - Chapter 2

Disclaimer: This is an AU in which the Chiaki AI got at least partially infected by the Junko Virus. This is what makes her become a Yandere and a bit out of character. This AU also entails Hajime and Izuru becoming more of a DID-System, instead of fusing into one person. The main difference, compared to the real illness, is that they can switch out consciousness at will. Also, major spoilers and canon divergence ahead. You have been warned.

﹀﹀﹀﹀︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶﹀﹀﹀﹀

Chapter 2

The sun rose over the horizon and first things first, Hajime stormed out of his cottage, skipping breakfast, and immediately greeting the awakened Chiaki AI in the control room. Pressing the power button, her face flashed back on screen. “Good morning!” He spouted excited, to which Chiaki replied: “Good morning, Hajime. Did you sleep well?”

Again, that feeling of automation, when she spoke. More like a service robot than a real human being. For now, Hajime decided to not let it bother him, just gulping down that bitter aftertaste. “Ah yes, I did. What about you? Do programs sleep as well? I mean I know a computer can enter sleep mode but… does a program need to sleep?”

Processing that question for a second. “I can if you want me to. I usually enter power-save mode, to conserve my energy and process all the new information I’ve gotten. You could call it: ‘Sleep-Like’.”

Another day almost passed away with these two just chatting with each other, until Hajime got reminded that his human functions do still call for him. “Ah, my stomach is growling. Guess I forgot to eat all day.” He admitted. “That’s bad. You should have at least three meals a day, Hajime.” The program lectured him.

Being reminded of the real Chiaki, she usually slept through the day, forgetting to eat or even breath sometimes. This was really a different entity than the Chiaki he knew. “Thank you for reminding me. I better get going and grab something to eat. Just in case.” Leaving the room with a short wave of his hand, as the machine returned to its sleeping-mode.

 During a late lunch, Hajime decided to ping Izuru inside his brain again.

“Hey, got a second?”

“It’s not like I could go anywhere, you should know that.”

“Yeah yeah. About the Chiaki AI you programmed…”

“You aren’t happy with her. I know that. She’s too robotic for you. Too static. Too much of a machine and not enough human.”

That was exactly it. Hajime didn’t even need to confirm that.

“Can’t you make her more human? Give her emotions? Some memories at least, from our days at school?”

“You know the risk of that already, or do I need to remind you? Even the smallest bit of despair could reawaken the virus and manifest in her.”

“I know… what about… just the positive memories and emotions then? Please, something at least, one speck of how she used to be.”

Silence, even Izuru had to think things through sometimes.

“Very well. I could give her some humanity back, but don’t expect me to fix things for you, when they turn bad.”

“You would? Really? Thank you so much!” Hajime was thrilled even at the smallest possibility of getting back the Chiaki he lost not only once but twice.

“Don’t worry, I won’t bother you any further with that. It’s just…”

“I know.” Izuru cut the conversation short, before Hajime finished his lunch in a better mood than he had started it with.

 Not wasting any time, Hajime hurried back over to where Chiaki was supposed to be. “Hey, Chiaki! I’m back with good news!” Shouting, all juiced up. “We gonna update you a little bit. We restore some of our memories together and give you actual genuine feelings.” He was really hyped up about that opportunity.

“Oh? Thank you. But with ‘we’ you mean, my creator, Izuru Kamukura will do so, right?” Hitting the mark. “Well… yeah. He does the work; I can’t really do much. Sorry.” Confessing to his shortcomings in the field of programming.

In a mere second, Hajime closed and reopened his eyes, as they had turned crimson red in the split second between – Izuru was now fronting. “I need to shut you down first before I could make any sort of adjustments to your program.” Turning off the machine and getting back to the mechanical clicking of keys being pressed down with insane speed.

 “Here. She now has her memories from Hope’s Peak back, as well as emotional parameters installed. This should be more than enough. I will not enhance her software any further, it could cause complications.”

And with that, he switched out again, his eyes returning to the emerald green from before. “Ah- Thank you, Izuru.” The computer booting up again while he was readjusting himself to the dark room. He always felt a bit dizzy after being forced into consciousness so suddenly.

Impatiently tapping his fingers on the console, as it sprang back to life. “Hey, Chiaki! Remember me better now?”

“Hajime Hinata, Hope’s Peak Reserve Course Student.” Were the first words he had to hear from the freshly improved AI. That stung, even worse than before. “Hey, are you sure you gave her feelings?” He asked Izuru again, just to be sure.

“Give her a second to read the code.”

Doing so, it took mere seconds, before a familiar sounding: “Hajime!” could be heard from the speakers. “Hey Chiaki. Welcome back.” Giving her a warm welcome. “Hajime, I could never tell you that until now, but from the very day you vanished, I missed you.” Chiaki feeling much more human now.

“Yeah… sorry about that. You know what happened afterwards. I probably should have told you.”

“It’s alright. What happened, happened.” Letting him know she was forgiving him for his stupidity back then.

“It’s important that I can see you again now, even if it’s just through a screen.” Finally, seemingly returning the feelings Hajime has poured into her so far. “I’m glad too.”

Once more this day was spend chatting forth and back without any inconveniences interrupting their peaceful conversation.

“Well, it’s getting late again. I at least shouldn’t miss out on sleep, right?” Getting ready to get going, but Chiaki was stopping him. “Wait. You’re already leaving? But what about me?” That was new, Hajime returned to the screen, coming close.

“Well, I told you already, humans do need sleep. Don’t be sad, I’ll be back again tomorrow.” Promising her so, the girl pounded. “No, I wanna play games with you all night. Can’t you stay with me at least a little longer?”

“I guess a little longer couldn’t hurt, but only an hour or two, alright?” Making sure to not neglect his health too much. However, these one or two hours quickly turned into half the night, as Hajime was getting more and more tired as time passed.

Letting out a long yawn, he almost fell asleep on the spot. “Hey, Chiaki. I know it’s fun to play games and all, but I should really hit the hay now.” Getting ready to leave for good this time around. “Good night, Hajime. Please come back here tomorrow at your earliest convenience, okay?” Making sure he’d promise before letting him go and swapping into energy saving mode herself.

This Chiaki felt much more human now, almost like talking to the real thing. He really had to thank Izuru for that. Despite being tired, Hajime couldn’t fall asleep right away, as he was staring at his cottage ceiling, smiling like a dork.

“She’s back. She’s finally back and this time, I won’t let her slip through my fingers again. I’ll protect you, Chiaki.”

Izuru didn’t say anything to that, but he could already read the signs, that this wouldn’t end well.

﹀﹀﹀﹀︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶﹀﹀﹀﹀

« Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 »

#DanganRonpa #Dangan Ronpa #Dangan #Ronpa #DanganRonpa2 #Goodbye Despair #Danganronpa 2 Goodbye Despair #Fanfic #Fanfiction #Writing #Fan #Fiction #Hajime #Hinata #Hajime Hinata #Hinata Hajime #Izuru #Kamukura #Izuru Kamukura #Kamukura Izuru #Chiaki #Nanami #Nanami Chiaki #Chiaki Nanami #Yandere #AU #Yandere AU #Yandere Chiaki #Hinanami #Kamunami

[alaadinsane]

Short story demo for a college assignment

This is something I put together a couple months ago and am now using it to fill out an assignment. I hope you enjoy and feel free to give some feedback!

“The thing about singing is that it’s not about the performance, the glamour, or even the money. It’s about sharing every dark corner of yourself with the audience and feeling like you matter, even if you don’t.” - Janelle Winston

Prologue: Janelle

A part of a clock fused with a half of an hourglass. The pendant he gave me at our wedding, it sounds tacky but it was beautiful. Such a simple and angular design that didn’t protrude from your neck and just layed there. Letting others find its beauty rather than shout it at them. He was a lot like that. Sometimes when he wasn’t writing, he would write notes around the house making fun of himself and of me with little drawings attached, sometimes of a banana holding a microphone or sometimes of a brick separated from its wall. Though I’d sometimes forget how sad he was, he hid it well with a veil of playfulness and sarcasm. Then one day he approached me and asked, “Am I worth it to you?” At first I didn’t know where this question would go but I assumed that every possible outcome would end sadly or even tragically. So I tried to play it off with a gentle laugh. 

“Forget it.” He had a disgruntled look as he turned away from me. I should hear him out at least I thought, but at the time I was too scared to see where the question would have gone. I knew he was depressed and I knew he had suicidal thoughts from his half drunken rambling after parties we would attend together. It made my hands shake then and I don’t see how it’ll be any different now. I remember thinking that it was harder seeing him upset with me than himself so I did what I always did best, and tried fixing it.

“Hey wait! I’m sorry I just wasn’t expecting a serious question like that out of nowhere. Please sit, we can talk about it.” He stopped mid step and turned his head towards me without moving an inch of the rest of his body, “It’s fine. It was a stupid question anyway. I know you love me. I’m going to continue writing my story, maybe we can go out later tonight?” And just like that it had seemed all the frustration he had washed away and he was back to his normal self…which is sadly something he was far too good at doing.  I tried prodding anyway to see if I could get anything out, “Are you sure? I really don’t mind talking about it.” 

“I’m fine.” he then turned around and walked back to his office. At that moment I felt like I had lit a match that started a wildfire and that it would only get worse from here. 

I hear a knock on the door and then a plain looking man wearing a headset around his neck leaned in the doorway.

“Five minutes Ms. Winston.” His voice is soft with very little room for any expression or emotion.

“I’m almost ready.” I was lying. I was ready the moment I walked into the greenroom. I had been planning for this interview for a while now. I had rehearsed my lines in the shower every morning and then in my mirror before I went to bed. I knew I was supposed to talk about the album for at least 3 minutes to satisfy the record label and I knew the questions the interviewer was going to talk about. Oh I apologize, he wasn’t any interviewer, he was the great talk show host Laury Bane. He’s a hack of course with his toothy grin that lapped over his bottom lip and his cheap jabs at guests for a quick laugh that everyone falls for. I used to watch actually, but not because I was a fan of him, but because…he liked watching him. I played along while we snuggled on the couch together. Faked a laugh here and there but the smile I’d exchange with him when Laury told a joke was genuine. It was nice just being around him. The questions about the album shouldn’t be that hard to answer though since I like the album I made. I had departed from my punk rock roots for a more classy vibe. Something to rival Kate Bush even. The record label sure wasn’t happy about it, even though they’re more prithee to holding me back rather than actually help me. The album isn’t the best part, since I also plan to have a little surprise to really emphasize the point of the album. I’m an artist after all and, as one, should go above and beyond for my audience. Especially since they’re all that’s left or was…I’m not sure anymore.

“We’re ready for you Ms. Winston, please come this way with me.” 

“I’ll be right there.” It’s time.

#my writing #books

[pencilscratchins]

ofmd is the perfect show for u it has multiple gay middle aged man and its genuinely funny. also stede bonnet dilf

it was tailor made for me. kristen johnston from 3rd from the sun is in it for gods sake, that’s a “for rebecca” detail if i’ve thought of one. also yes stede is THE dilf

#laurakinney #what i love the most is i already had watched it before people and started to TELL me to watch it #bc i love y’all but sometimes it’s very annoying when you tell me to watch a show #because i know you just want me to draw fan art for it LMAOO #IM NOT A VENDING MACHINE GUYS #/lh #but now ofmd was amazing i highly recommend it #ask #not art #if any of you do that thing where you’re like i don’t do that and that means it’s no one’s motivation!! #may i remind you i only publish 1/6 of the asks i get #i think i would know what people say to me better than you but thank you ♥️ #if you don’t do this then i’m clearly not talking about you #i’m clearly talking about the people who literally say please watch this show and draw this character #sorry i’m on a short fuse this morning

[noctilucous-sunni]

hands ~ (sfw fluff)

warnings: probably like one dirty joke implied in there but only if you REALLY squint close enough, reader flusters diluc lmao

info/tropes: mainly soft fluffy fluff, gn!reader

notes: a short piece on hands that i randomly wrote instead of my sagau wip??? i just wanted something soft and fluffy and self indulgent hehe. actually it was MEANT to be short, but now its not really lmao. i originally meant to do other characters as well but i got carried away. probably will do another part with other characters and maybe a suggestive version as well! enjoy :))

masterlist.

feat. character(s); diluc

DILUC …

Raises your hands to his lips and kisses them softly like the gentleman he is

His hands are always warmer than yours so if you suffer from cold hands constantly you sometimes just slip your fingers into his hands and he squeezes them. (also this always reminds me of thermodynamic equilibrium lmao, exam brain😭)

since he doesn’t show a lot of affection in public, this is what you and diluc mainly do, whether you’re enjoying a walk in mondstat or doing something else together, especially when he notices your hands stuffed into your pockets and then cautiously links your hands with his, looking into your eyes asking “may i?” in a low voice while you just smile at him sweetly 🥰🥹

his hands are so gentle when hes with you wtf

takes off his gloves when he's alone with you and sometimes on a rare occasion, he lets you take them off for him

the way his hands cradle and cup your face so delicately i- ahsgsggsgsshgs

he would probably make or get someone to make (matching?) gloves with pyro fused into them so that when he’s not there to warm up your hands, you won’t be suffering from cold hands

when his hands wrap around you lightly possessive and protective when someone tries to flirt with you and you consistently try to tell them to back off but after the third time it’s getting nowhere and diluc notices and steps in and you glance at him relieved

the way his hands rub up and down your shoulders when you wake up in bed

or when you’re making coffee in the morning and he comes from behind rubbing his hands up and down your shoulders before leaning his head on the back of your neck, lips barely grazing your skin

also!! ALSO!! when you’re having a nightmare and then wake up gasping, he EVER SO GENTLY threads his fingers through your hair, softly humming and whispering that it's going to be alright AND IT'S JUST SO SOOTHING and eventually you are able to fall asleep again

and if you often have trouble sleeping, he also does this, simply threading his fingers through your hair, petting it until you get more and more relaxed while his voice sends you to sleep

Despite it being a sunny afternoon in Mondstat, you shoved your cold hands into your pockets to gain some warmth, Diluc walking briskly beside you, looking over a business contract in his hand.

“So, should we go home or are you going to take a shift at Angel’s Share today?” You muse, turning to look at the wine master. Your question makes him stop in his tracks as he moves his attention away from the contract he held.

“Oh. We’re just going home, darling, there's something I’d like to show you.” He says, a gentle smile gracing his lips, only for you.

You raise your eyebrows in interest, and then you smirk. A light pink blush starts to spread on his face when he sees you smirk, knowing you all too well. Before he gets a chance to speak again, you start instead. “Is it something that I’ve see-”

Clearing his throat abruptly to cut you off, which he almost never does, he sighs and shakes his head. Despite his face being almost the same color as his hair, he continues. “It’s… nothing of the sort! You’re almost as bad as Kaeya, hmpf. He’s a bad influence.”

You finally let your laughter out, after suppressing it for a while. “Oh, Diluc. Sorry, my love, I simply couldn’t help it. Let’s go home, then. I’m sure it's something fantastic.” You say, grabbing his free hand, and squeezing it. Ah, his hands were so nice and warm. He sighs yet again, raising your hands to his lips, kissing them sweetly as you both resume your walk home.

Little did you know that a pair of special, custom made gloves awaited your arrival at home, intended for your constantly cold hands. These were created lovingly by your beloved pyro vision holder, Diluc. He hoped that you would like them.

a/n: and thats it!! my very first writing post hehe 🥰 - tbh i didn’t think this would be it but it was so spontaneous and here we are :)) any thoughts?? i would love to hear them!! will be replying thru my main @sunni-the-sunflower

#sunni writes #first written post - how we feeling?? #fluff #genshin impact #genshin fluff #genshin diluc #diluc #diluc headcanons #diluc imagines #diluc x reader #diluc x gender neutral reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact x reader #WAKE UP BESTIES NEW WRITING DROPPED AND ITS DILUC MY BELOVED

[touyasdoll]

Asking a really very fluffy piece with Bakugo and a domestic life, probably married to him and life after it, yeah a domestic and slice of life thing with Bakugo, I really am in a mood for fluff today and a domestic life with him is just a dream of mine.... ytgjuikgfdjkutfgyt thank you!!

-💖

I'm sorry it took so long, but here you go 🧡🧡 domestic Bakugou is my dream too 😭

Outnumbered

Pairing: Bakugou x f!reader

Genre: the fluffiest 💕

Warning: pregnancy

"G'mornin', baby," Bakugou shuffled up behind you in the kitchen, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing a kiss to your cheek in the quiet stillness of the morning as you cut the corners off the pair of sandwiches you were preparing.

The kids were still asleep, but not for much longer, so you spun around in his arms, an attempt to savor your last moments of peace before chaos came barreling down the stairs to disturb you.

"Good mornin'," you placed your hands on his chest with a smile as he leaned down to kiss you. "You sleep okay, hon?"

"Tch, I thought so, but my back says otherwise," he griped, pulling you in tight as he held you close.

He was certainly older now, but not any less beautiful.

The crows feet tugging at the corners of his eyes were a telltale sign of everything that you'd been through together. Having been worn in by the laughter and the tears that had erupted between the pair of you over the years.

The grays that intermingled with his blonde locks were relatively new. Well, the fact that he was finally letting them stick around was new, rather. They'd first made an appearance after the birth of your second child, who was now 5. You still remember the time you caught him dyeing them away, shut up in the bathroom after he thought you and the kids were all fast asleep, until you stumbled in and found him with his ears, neck, and forehead positively covered in excess dye. Thankfully, he'd let you help him from then on out.

The little noises that he'd make anytime he stood, sat up, or stretched. Honestly, you thought they were cute. Each little grumble and groan was a reminder that Katsuki Bakugou was indeed human too. Even the Number Two Hero wasn't immune to needing an Advil after spending the better part of the day on the floor, assembling a Barbie Dream House for the little girl who had him wrapped around her finger.

You clicked your tongue, shaking your head in playful admonishment as you slid your hands up his chest and over his shoulders, interlocking them behind his neck, "I told you that you were going to be sore after sitting like that for so long."

"What was I supposed to do?" He raised an eyebrow, "You try telling that brat no; she won't have it. Got that from her momma," he smirked, pushing you back against the counter as you gasped indignantly.

"I'm pretty sure her short fuse comes from her father. He can be a bit," you pretended to think. "Explosive?"

"That a bad thing?" He cocked his head to the side, leaning into you. "Sounds like that would keep things interesting."

"Oh, it does," you giggle, kissing him sweetly. "Nothing's ever boring around this house, but I have a feeling things are really about to kick into high gear around here," you pull away, smiling softly up at him as you chew on the inside of your lip.

"How's that?" His lips curl into a crooked grin as he leans in once more, but you stop him, placing your hands back on his chest.

He looks mildly confused, looking to you for an explanation. You look down, placing a hand to your belly.

"I, uh, I hear that once the kids outnumber the parents is when you're really in trouble," you glance back up, hesitant and anxious to see his reaction, but he doesn’t disappoint.

It takes him a moment, his brow still furrowed until an excited smile cracks across his face, "What? Are you fuckin’ serious?"

"Yes, I’m serious," you laugh as he scoops you up, twirling you around the kitchen as your arms fold around his neck.

He sets you down on the island, standing in front of you as he holds your waist, looking down at you reverently, "I'm really gonna be a dad again?"

"You sure are, old man," you clap a hand to his shoulder, "Think you can handle it? Because I'm not sure I can chase down 3 of your kids at once."

"Of course I can," he chuckles, grinning proudly, "Of course you can," he brings a hand to your cheek, holding your face as he searches your eyes, his smile softening. "You're the best mother that those brats could ever ask for. This one," he places his hand to your belly, "Is as lucky to have you as I am. We're gonna be just fine. As long as we have you."

"Well, you haven't run me off yet," you sniffle, a lopsided smile on your lips as you fight off the waterworks and let out a soft sigh. "You know, before we got married, I didn't think you'd ever be this excited about a baby. Let alone a third."

"Tch, see? I knew you never listened to a thing I say," he shook his head, looking away with a smirk.

You only tilted your head in reply.

"I told you I was gonna give you more kids than you knew what to do with," he chuckled, "How many more you think we can manage?"

"Easy there, tiger," you echoed his laughter, "Let's make sure we can handle this one first."

"Fine," he rolled his eyes sarcastically and then snapped his gaze back to you, "Wait. When can we tell the gremlins?"

"When they get up, because I don't want you waking the--," you sighed, watching him already bounding up the stairs.

"Oi! Who's ready for a new baby brother or sister?!"

#💖 anon #bakugo katsuki #bakugou katsuki #bakugou x reader #bakugo x reader #bakugou #bakugo #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo #mha x reader #bnha x reader #fluff #bakugou fluff #bakugo fluff #mha fluff #bnha fluff #mha #bnha #my hero #my hero x reader #tw pregnancy