#they really just wanted a safe and nice little love

[wintrwinchestr]

an overture of indulgence (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

summary: it's been a long time since you've seen joel, and some things have changed, but a lot has stayed the same. namely, how quickly he can still get you on his knees for him, ready to show him exactly just how much you like what has changed about him.

warnings: 18+, smut, post-outbreak, jackson joel, d/s relationship dynamics, pet names (baby, babygirl, sweetheart, sweet girl, etc), body worship, belly kink, talk of weight gain, belly riding, m/f masturbation, lil bit of humiliation kink, lil bit of edging, reader is an adult but age otherwise unspecified, reader is shorter than joel and has hair long enough to grab, let me know if i missed anything :)

word count: 4.3k

a/n: just fuckin outing myself left and right these days huh. idk what came over me with this one. started this late last night and here it is now. belly enjoyers rise!!!!!!! nice comments/reblogs appreciated if you enjoyed <3 you can't kink shame me bc i like getting bullied so now what. also i avoided daddy kink for once in my life please clap. i know i’m spoiling y’all this weekend don’t get used to it.

divider by @saradika

“...Joel?!” you shout, your leisurely walking pace quickly turning into a hurried jog as you leave Tommy behind, making a beeline toward the man you would swear on your life is Joel Miller. A small handful of years ago now, he was kind of your boyfriend, kind of not, kind of something else more complicated and unlabeled, because who can afford to put a label on anything in times like these?

Joel’s head turns in your direction at the sound of his name, and as soon as you spot that crooked scar across the bridge of his nose, you’re certain it’s him.

“Holy shit, I can’t believe it,” you half-cry, throwing your weight into him as you wrap him in a tight embrace. He’s much taller than you, but you still managed to knock him off his balance a little. He envelops your whole body in one of his signature, all-encompassing hugs, and it’s like no time has passed at all.

The two of you had ended whatever it was you had on good terms, no hard feelings or animosity shared between you. It was just hard to maintain any kind of relationship in a world like this, and trying to nurture romance in the Boston QZ was much like trying to grow a rose garden in toxic, radioactive soil. You can put as much care and effort and something like love into it as you have in you, but the circumstances will just never allow it to reach its full potential. The end of your “relationship” was mutual, but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. Especially when he had disappeared one day without so much as saying goodbye.

When you had stumbled upon Tommy and a group of patrollers in the snowy forest outside Jackson just earlier today, you were alone, tired, and losing hope that this rumored safe haven even existed at all. You had heard crackles through the radio in the QZ about the community, and even though it sounded too good to be true, what else did you have to lose anymore? After months of travel and survival and pain and hunger, you’d never been so happy to meet a bunch of strangers in the woods in your whole life. You didn’t hesitate to get on the back of Tommy’s horse, and let him lead you to the sanctuary they spoke of.

As he was giving you a tour, proudly showing off their electricity, running water, fresh food, and clean houses, you had started to look forward to what the future may bring, for the first time in a long time. You could never have imagined you’d ever run into Joel again, that this is where he had ended up, of all places. And now here the both of you are, bodies pressed as tightly together as possible, breathing in each other’s familiar scents and never wanting to let go again.

Joel is the first to break the embrace, grasping your head in his large hands and frantically searching your face for any sign that he could be dreaming, that fate hasn’t really brought you back together again after all.

“Jesus Christ, it’s really you,” he breathes, and you swear his voice breaks just a little bit as he presses his lips to your forehead, closing his eyes as he does.

When he blinks them open again, he meets Tommy’s gaze, who’s standing quietly a few yards back from where you’re having your sentimental reunion. Tommy gives an understanding nod, and gestures that he’ll be waiting inside the community’s dining hall, gathering that whatever this is happening between his brother and some girl he only just met, he shouldn’t interrupt. Joel is grateful for many things today, one of them being the rekindled bond he has with Tommy, the other being how you somehow miraculously found your way back to him.

Small groups of other Jackson residents follow Tommy into the dining hall shortly afterward, and as the sun begins to set behind the mountains, Joel realizes it must be about time for dinner to be served.

He detaches his lips from your forehead, brushing some of your hair away from your face as he takes you in again. “You poor thing, must be starvin’ I bet,” he wonders aloud, giving you a sympathetic look.

“Kinda always am, just as a rule, but yeah,” you reply, trying to make light of your situation. Though, Joel doesn’t seem to find the humor in it the way you do.

“Long as you stay here, ain’t ever gotta worry about that again, that’s for damn sure.” He runs his tongue across his lips as he finishes his sentence, already knowing that whatever meal they’re serving tonight, it’ll be some of the most delicious food he’s had in a long time. He suspects you’ll feel much the same. “C’mon, let’s get you inside. Get you warm and fed for once in your life.”

–

Your heart, your stomach, your soul, all feel full as you relax into the comfortable couch in the living room of Joel’s cozy home. He wouldn’t even entertain the idea of you staying in an empty house all by yourself tonight, insisting that if you’d like some company while you settle in, you were more than welcome to his. He had let you spend as long as you wanted to in his shower, and he didn’t mind if there was hardly any warm water left by the time you were done. He sure as hell wasn’t paying the bill, and you deserved to feel truly clean. He can remember clear as day how he felt after his first Jackson shower, like he had stripped off a layer of grime he hadn’t been able to scrub all the way clean in twenty years. He had gone to Maria to get you some clothes and underwear while you were bathing, and set them silently on the sink counter for you to put on whenever you were done.

And now here you sit, feeling full and clean and satisfied and comfortable and safe, watching Joel stoke the logs in his fireplace as it casts the whole room in a honey orange glow. You take a moment to admire him while he isn’t looking, and even in the dim and flickering lighting, you can see he’s just as handsome as he was the last time you saw him. He looks older, with more gray in his longer hair and meat on his bones, the latter trait likely due to years worth of the hearty cooking you both indulged in tonight. He looks… good like this.

“It really is nice to see you again, you know. You look…” you start, not being able to help the way your eyes wander to his soft lower belly, the way it pushes taut against his tucked-in flannel shirt and just barely spills over the edge of his jeans.

He turns his head away from the fire to face you. You’re not very subtle in your staring, and he knows what you’re referring to right away. He huffs a light chuckle, trying to brush off the way he thinks you’re poking fun at him.

“I know, I know,” he acknowledges, placing a hand on his stomach. “Been tryin’ to get Maria to give me some more patrol shifts, see if I can get some of the weight off. But hey, you try havin’ three square meals a day for the first time in twenty some odd years, see what it does to you, huh?” He pivots his attention back to the fireplace, and he seems to turn his body further away from you on purpose, so that you can’t see the round profile of his tummy as much.

“No! No, it, um… It suits you. I was gonna say you look good, actually.” You’re quick in your reply, trying to make it clear that you didn’t mean to offend him, without letting too much on. 

He scoffs. “C’mon, you don’t gotta flatter me, sweetheart. I know I don’t exactly look the way you remember–”

“Joel, will you stop?” you interrupt, your voice laced with exasperation. “I’m being serious. Do I look like I’m making fun of you?”

He cranes his neck to look back at where you’re perched on the couch, and gives you a once over. “Guess not… Look a lil’ like somethin’ else, though, if I'm bein’ honest,” he says with a teasing smirk. And there he is again, the same quick-witted Joel you remember from back in the QZ.

You choose to engage in his banter, just to see where he’s going with it. “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

He shrugs, beginning to mindlessly poke at the firewood again. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you look like you might like it.”

He’s just kidding around with you, trying to rile you up, you’re sure. But when he gets silence in return instead of the sound of you jumping to defend yourself with another playful jab, he turns to face you once more, and is met with your stunned expression. 

“Oh…” Joel looks down at himself, then back to you again, just in time to catch your eyes flitting from his middle back up to his face. “What, you like ‘em big, sweetheart? ‘S that it?”

The truth is, you do, you always have. It was never a requirement, of course, as the guys you’d been with before Joel all had varying body types. But you’d be lying to yourself if you said that your eyes didn’t linger just a bit longer on guys with a little more to them, with wider arms and thicker legs and a softer middle. You’ve never admitted your preference to anyone before, and Joel calling you out on it now has your face running hot, skin feeling prickly as he sees through you like you’re made of glass.

“I-I don’t– I mean, I do, kinda, but not like that… Well, it is like that, I just mean–” You stumble over yourself, fearing you’ve revealed too much, wishing you could rewind the conversation and just tell him it was nice to see him again, plain and simple.

Joel lays the fire poker down on the granite ledge of the fireplace, approaching where you’re sitting and cupping the side of your face with his calloused hand. 

“Sh, sh, stop, baby. ‘S alright if you do, nothin’ to be ashamed of,” he comforts, and it takes all the willpower you have left not to let your eyes drift down to his stomach, so close you could kiss it, if he’d let you.

“It’s just… I missed you. I thought about you all the time, wondered what ever happened to you after you left. Didn’t even know if you were alive until today. I’m just happy to see you… doing so well. To see that you’re healthy, and everything.” You swallow hard, hoping you sound convincing enough that he’ll let this go, forget all about your little admission just now. But of course, Joel is as stubborn as he’s ever been, and he doesn’t plan on releasing you from his trap now that you’re ensnared in it. 

“That’s sweet, baby, ‘s real sweet,” Joel says, softly, stroking his thumb across your cheekbone as he speaks. “Thought about you too, all this time. Practically every day…” He rakes his eyes over you, noticing the way his touch has you starting to melt already, how you’re looking up at him with your wide, needy eyes. “Why don’t you show me just how much you missed me, hm? How much you love seein’ me healthy, as you put it.”

You’re stunned into silence once again, jaw slack and pupils wide as you search his gaze for proof that he’s just messing with you, making fun of you just to watch you squirm. But you don’t find any.

“O-okay,” you agree in a half-whisper.

Joel smiles down at you, satisfied. “All these years later, still just the sweetest thing, ain’t you? You still just as obedient, too?”

You nod without even thinking, words catching up with your instinctual response a second later. “Mhm, yeah, I am…” You had forgotten how easy it is to submit to him, how good it feels to let the hypnotizing tone of his voice carry you somewhere far away from yourself, when you need it the most. Whether it was after a shitty day of working for shittier rations in the QZ, or after a harsh trek in harsher weather to a forested oasis, Joel always knows how to make you feel like submission is your most natural state. 

“Good… Kneel for me please, sweetheart,” he commands, and you obey immediately, his hand slipping from your face as you slide from the couch onto the woven carpet beneath you. Like second nature, your hands automatically fold themselves on your lap, remembering how you were never to touch Joel until he permitted you to. He takes note of this, and praises you accordingly. “Look at that, didn’t even have to ask. Such a good girl.”

He’s so enamored with you, he almost forgets where he was going with this until he watches your eyes flash to the growing bulge in his jeans, then back up to him. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Was thinkin’ you could put that pretty mouth to use on somethin’ different this time, hm?”

You knit your brows together, not sure what he means, but he doesn’t let you wonder for long. Slowly, he starts to unbutton his flannel shirt, starting at the top and working his way down. He tosses it onto the ground, then pulls his undershirt off over his head, adding it to the other discarded clothing. Without the confines of his slightly-too-tight button-up, you can see how much he really has filled out. Everything about his upper body is just a little more plush, with petal pink stretch marks adorning the soft skin in various places. You want to make it your personal mission to kiss each and every one of them, commit their exact coordinates on his body to memory.

There's a deep scar, you notice, to the left of his belly button, that has almost successfully disguised itself as one of those pretty marks. It’s definitely new since you saw him last, and it looks like it hurt, especially with the evidence of how crudely it had been stitched back together.

“What happened?” you wonder aloud, worried eyes glued to the healed injury.

He has to peer over the curve of his belly to see what you’re looking at. “Long story. Happened on my way out here, after I left Boston. Nothin’ for you to worry about, sweet girl, hardly even hurt. Forget it’s even there, most of the time,” he answers, still with a dominant edge to his voice that does a mostly good job of convincing you it’s the truth.

“Can… Can I?” you ask, waiting to receive his permission before you move your hands from your lap. 

“Yeah, baby, go ahead,” Joel allows. 

You reach out a small hand to gently trace over the raised scar, then press your lips to it with your hands splayed out on either side of your head, just barely pressing into his belly. He releases a soft groan, cradling the back of your head with one of his hands, applying the lightest amount of pressure to let you know this is where he wants to keep you. 

“Why don’t you keep goin’, sweetheart? Gimme some more lovin’ like that, know you wanna,” he encourages, and you think you get the idea now, what it is he wanted to put your pretty mouth to use for.

With his explicit permission to continue, you don’t need telling twice. You move your face to hover just in front of his belly button, admiring the dense salt and pepper happy trail that sprouts from where his jeans push into his soft skin. You drag your tongue along the hair, nipping at the soft curve of where it disappears into the divot in his stomach. He makes a noise in response, half pained and half pleasured, but he doesn’t stop you. Just for good measure, you place a kiss to the little blushing mark where your teeth had scraped him.

Almost of their own volition, it seems, your hands begin to knead at his stomach as you make good on your promise to yourself to kiss every single one of his stretch marks. You allow your tongue to dart from your mouth on the last one, and Joel sucks in a breath.

“Oh, fuck. Forgot how good that wet lil’ mouth feels on me, sweetheart. Keep goin’,” he says, voice coming out strained. His fingers curl tightly into your hair, and he begins to maneuver your face around his belly. You lathe your tongue over his skin as he does, slicking him with wet, sloppy kisses. “Yeah, baby, you fuckin’ worship it, show me how much you like me like this.”

It’s a little humiliating, but just enough that you like the feeling. You’re breathing hard and fast, letting out little whimpers as your fluttering cunt begins to soak your underwear. He brings your face to a stop at the most tantalizing part of him, the part that truly evidences how much more he’s allowed himself to indulge since settling in Jackson. The ample curve of flesh that just barely conceals the waistband of his jeans, the part you’ve wanted to get your mouth on since you first saw how it strained the lower buttons of his shirt. You latch onto it, massaging the skin around it as you use your teeth and tongue to suck a mark into him.

A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, and he curses under his breath. “Like it that much, huh? Fuck, naughty thing, look at you.”

You’re so fucking turned on, you’re shivering, rocking where you kneel and squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to get some kind of relief. You let one of your hands drift to the hard shape in Joel’s jeans, and it seems he’s enjoying this as much as you are. He spots your pathetic little squirms as you rut against nothing, and then he’s using his grip on your hair to pull you up from the floor.

“Got an idea. Up,” he commands roughly, and you detach your lips from his belly to obey his order. “Get these off, there we go.” He pulls down your sweatpants and underwear, helping you step out of them. “Christ, you’re soaked,” Joel teases, eyeing the sizable wet spot in your panties as he tosses them aside to join the other forgotten clothing. He reaches a hand toward the apex of your thighs, teasing your wet pussy and gathering some of your slick on two of his fingers. You let out a tiny yelp, but let him play with you, and then he’s bringing his fingers in front of his face and examining the sticky strings of your arousal when he spreads them apart. “All this just from lettin’ you worship all this, huh?” he taunts, patting his stomach once for emphasis. “Who’d’ve thought? Not that I’m complainin’...”

He quickly rids himself of his jeans and briefs, then reclines onto the couch with a quiet groan, stretching out his body along the length of it. Your mouth waters at the sight of his cock, hard and leaking as it bobs against his belly, his precum adding to the dampness still there from your tongue. “Come sit, sweetheart,” Joel says, softly, motioning with both of his hands for you to come closer.

You grip a hand onto the backrest of the couch to balance yourself while you move to straddle him, prepared to sink down onto his length for the first time in way too fucking long. “Uh uh, not there, baby,” he instructs, smirking when he sees how you hesitate in confusion. “Take a seat right here for me.” Again, he pats that most tempting area of his lower belly, and you just about fall apart at the sight of how his flesh ripples in the wake of it.

“Yeah, there you go, good girl,” he praises, both hands gripping your waist as he helps you settle your weight onto his soft abdomen.

“I dunno, don’t wanna hurt you–” you start, but he cuts you off swiftly.

“You won’t, baby. I’m a big man, ain’t I?” he teases, flashing you a devilish and knowing smile. “Go on, sweetheart, ride it.”

You inhale a shuddering breath, then place both of your hands on his shoulders to hold yourself up. You start an experimental buck into his belly, and that trail of dark hair tickles your clit so perfectly. It takes a few tries for you to get the positioning and pressure just right, and then you’re truly riding him, using his full stomach to get yourself off while he watches. 

“God, that’s good. Use it, baby. You love me bigger, love that I’ve been eatin’ so good, prove it to me, c’mon,” Joel goads, and it spurs you on to grind against him harder, faster, as incoherent mumbles and curses tumble from your lips.

“Love it, Joel, you look so good, fuck. So fucking–mmh–so big, makes me so… so–”

“I know it does, sweet girl, I know. Makes you fuckin’ soaked is what it does, god damn. You gonna get my belly all messy, hm? Gonna rub your lil’ cunt all over it, get me all fuckin’ wet?”

“Uh huh, yeah, gonna… I’m gonna–” you whine, eyes shutting tight as your hips pick up their pace. You move your hands from his shoulders to place them on his stomach instead, grabbing at handfuls of his tummy in an effort to create something more solid to rub yourself against. 

You’re already embarrassingly close, the humiliating edge to your earlier worship having gotten you most of the way there on its own. So swollen and sensitive it almost hurts, you won’t need much more to reach your high.

“Not without me, you ain’t. Gonna be right there with ya. You remember how we used to do it?” Joel asks, as if you could ever forget. He’s referring to your many late nights, early mornings, in his bed or in a back alley or wherever in the QZ, where he liked to make sure you both finished at the same time. You’d always be the first one to reach the edge, because he’d focus all his attention on getting you there before him, just to make you wait. It was never something punishing, just something he liked to do as an extra bit of control and dominance, and he knew it always made your orgasms that much more powerful and satisfying when he would finally permit you to let go.

With your eyes closed, so focused on your own pleasure, you hadn’t noticed that he had reached behind you to start fisting his cock some time ago. But you can hear it now, the wet schlick of his hand moving up and down his shaft as he works himself. “Hold it for me, sweetheart, I know you can. Keep rubbin’ your pretty pussy against me, jus’ like that, almost there…”

You mewl, screwing your face up as you force yourself to slow down your thrusts, muscles tense as you try to keep your orgasm at bay for as long as you can. 

Thankfully, he must be worked up enough from seeing you fall apart for him so easily for the first time in so long, that his permission comes just a few minutes later.

“Come for me, babygirl, soak my fuckin’ belly, c’mon,” Joel growls, and you fall forward immediately, twitching and spasming and crying out into the soft muscle of his shoulder as you ride out the shuddering shocks of your orgasm. He groans next to your ear as he comes, and you can feel the warm ropes of his own release as some of them land on your lower back. You’re both wet, heaving messes, as you embrace each other for the second time today and work on catching your breath.

So exhausted from the day you had, you must’ve fallen asleep against his chest as you laid there, because then you’re being woken up by the dull scratch of his fingertips against your scalp and his familiar voice working its way through the thick fog that clouds your tired brain. 

“You alright, baby?” he asks, and you can hear that he’s smiling, amused at this sleepy little thing he’s got clinging to him.

“Mhm, jus’ tired,” you answer, a barely-there mumble of a sentence.

“I’ll bet… You wanna get cleaned up? Get all tucked into bed?”

You shake your head against his neck, and he chuckles.

“No? Whatcha wanna do then, hm?”

“Jus’ lay here. Missed you. Don’t wanna let… go…” 

Your sentence drifts off into silence before the temptation of sleep allows you to finish it, but Joel gets the idea. He smiles to himself, kissing the top of your head, and hugs you closer. Both of you are still sticky and damp, but satisfied. And together again. And that’s a hell of a lot better than the alternative.

So he agrees, and you stay like that for the rest of the night. Joel doesn’t worry about whether or not he remembered to set his alarm clock for his extra patrol shift the next morning, or if he’ll even hear it all the way from his bedroom upstairs, because it doesn’t matter anyway. He has you, and you made it very clear tonight just how much you like him exactly the way he is. 

Maybe, your rose garden can finally begin to bloom, now that the pair of you have somewhere safe and comfortable and healthy to try your hand at nurturing it again.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @iamasaddie @rebel-held @dilfgestivo @zliteraturehoe @joeldjarin @kamcrazy123 @hellowoolf @rexamongthestars @stevie75 @luxurychristmaspudding @noisynightmarepoetry @mewantpeepaw @pedritoferg (if your name is crossed out, it won’t let me tag you!!)

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

[rafesslxt]

✧.* 𝑩𝑳𝑼𝑺𝑯𝑰𝑵 ‘ | 𝒕. 𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒕

summary: when y/n wants to go on a walk with Theo, it starts raining and her shirt gets see through - based on this request

warnings: fluff, shy reader, Theo being a little tease for a sec, none other really

words: 0,8k

"How could I ever say no to that face?" Theo smiled at his girlfriend, sitting on his lap with a shy smile on her face. You asked him to go out for a walk since it's spring now and after being inside the whole winter, you wanted to get some fresh air again.

You gently stood up from his lap and put on your shoes, seeing him doing the same. He takes your hand into his and walks with you out of his dorm, through the common room and along the halls of your beloved school.

"The weather's nice." Theo states, looking around the yard when he see's the sun shining down on the two of you. "Yeah it is indeed. Come on." you start getting happy and pull him with you towards the big black lake where you walked for a while.

"You look beautiful prinicipessa." he says while looking at your face, admiring your beautiful features. Your cheeks start to heat up a little and you look away for a short moment before looking back at him again, smiling shyly at him." Thank you, Theo."

He smiles to himself when he sees your pink cheeks, knowing you're still shy around him. Even though the two of you officially are a couple, you told him from the start that you wanted to take things slow, partly because you're way more shy than others and need a little more time. He had no problem with that, concentrating on you character completely but sometimes, in those little moment, you drove him crazy.

Like that one time you bend over in class, such in innocent movement since you just wanted to pick up your pen but Theo couldn't help it and thought the whole day about it.

He gave you all the time you needed, since it's very important for him that you're comfortable. But at the end of the day he was just madly in love with you and also wondering how you would feel.

He once told you that, but you poor thing were so shy, that you wouldn't get out a word out of embarrassment for the next hour, so he remembered to think twice what he's saying to you.

And it also wasn't like you wanted to be that shy. You thought he was hot, like smoking hot and such a handsome face, but you just couldn't help it. Every little touch made you feel so hot you could be compared to a tomato.

Suddenly something wet hit the tip of your nose, your head going up instinctively and looking up at the sky that wasn't so blue anymore like a few minutes ago but grey clouds now above your head. "Looks like it's about to rain, let's go back." Theo say's, seeing your head going up.

You two started walking into the other direction again, back to school but rain was faster and so it happened that you two got wet, like soaked. At first it was kinda funny, Theo taking your hand and running with you, loud laughter from the both of you filled the air. It got even louder when Theo almost slipped on the wet grass but once you were back at your schools ground, a wave of shock came over you.

You looked down at yourself and saw that your white shirt was completely see through now, showing your cute red lace bra. You tried to hide yourself behind your hands but it was too late, Theo already saw what happened and wished he could stop time.

You were teasing him so hard right now even tho he knew it wasn't your mission to do so. "Damn Principessa.." he mumbles and pulls you closer to him. Of course your cheeks heat up even more now than before and you took a step back, turning your face away from him in embarrassment. "to which he said " "Don't shy away from me, baby." he says in a soft tone and carefully takes your arm, pulling you closer a second time.

"I - I'm sorry I didn't knew it would rain." Theo had to chuckle at your cute answer. " Of course you didn't baby, it's okay. Just know that you're safe with me yah? But also, you're so so beautiful and I promise you you have no reason to be shy around me. If someone's gonna be shy then it should be me so stunning that you are."

"Oh my god Theo, stoop." you giggled, hiding your face a little behind your hair but smiling from ear to ear. He leaned down to your ear and whispered into it. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen and someday you're gonna be mine forever."

thank you for reading 💋

here‘s my masterlist if u wanna read more

taglist: @sofa-couch26 @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @itsarajr @hisparentsgallerryy @mixvchelle @ummmmmmm-username @belle-blue

xoxo sarah <3

#slytherin boys #slytherin imagine #slytherin smut #theodore nott smut #theodore nott oneshot #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #harry potter masterlist #harry potter imagine #theodore nott scenarios #theodore nott fluff #theo nott headcanon #theo nott smut #theodore nott headcanons #theodore nott drabble #theodore nott masterlist #theodore nott

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

Objects in Motion

Part 2

Alpha!Billy Russo x Omega! Reader

Part 1 here

You’re deep in sleep when a loud bang wakes you.

Bolting up with a gasp, your heart pounds in your chest for a few minutes. You’re not sure what the noise was- a door slamming shut, or maybe something falling in the apartment above you, but the echo of it in your head keeps you awake for a while, hating that your anxiety doesn’t let you sleep.

.

You go to another dry cleaners, you do your best to avoid going out. You go to work, and back home for a couple of weeks, worried that someone will find you and scold you for what you’ve done.

You think about being scolded by him, you doubt you’d be able to last a moment in his presence.

After you’d ensured the safe delivery of the coat, did you finally research the owner.

William Russo, his stoic, borderline angry expression staring back at you through your computer screen had only made you aroused all over again.

This, this was the Alpha with a scent so magnetic, you couldn’t resist it.

He was rich, a CEO, and you could only look around your threadbare apartment and sigh sadly, there was nothing you could offer him that would interest him.

So, you try to move on with your life, work hard so you can afford to buy alleviators for your next heat, and stay away from alphas that would no doubt hurt you.

The art museum was a big comfort. On a Friday evening, when it was at its emptiest, you’d go in, and stare at all the paintings. You’d study the brushstrokes till your eyes burned, items like Starry Night, and Street Light were beautiful works that always made you dare to dream of a life better than the one you were in. Today however, The Lovers was the one that kept you most occupied.

Two people, with white cloths over their heads as they lean into each other, kissing.  Hidden from each other’s sight, you wonder if the painting only holds its romance because of the seemingly anonymity of the subjects. If the mystery was removed, would there be more love, or less?

It was kind of how you felt right now, pained, searching for something that you weren’t familiar with. An alpha, to call your own.

None of the alphas you’d met had ever been right for you. There was an entitlement written into them, the belief that your station was lesser, so you were supposed to submit. Alphas constantly lived with that air of superiority surrounding them, and they were easily upset when you did not give them what they wanted. 

The alphas you dated were wrong to think that submission was something freely given, in reality, it had to be earned.

You wondered if the alpha on your mind would ask nicely.

Probably not. It was a good thing he existed only in your fantasies.

.

Your omega privilege means you get to stay a little after closing. You smile gratefully in the security guard’s direction when he comes to escort you out.

“We’ve got a new piece coming in tomorrow. You won’t be able to stay late anymore, but I’m sure you’ll like it.”

You smile in delight.

“Do you know which one it is?” You ask.

“Not really, not much of an art guy, but it’s a big deal, really expensive.”

You nod, enthusiastically.

“Well, I can’t wait.” You reply, wishing the beta a good night when you finally reach the exit, pulling your jacket tighter around you to protect from the cold.

.

Not for the first time in his life, he feels the loneliness. 

It’s only that he’s never felt it quite like this. Usually, people just didn’t want him, his mother gave him up when he was a baby, and he’d never really understood why. Through his life, people had assumed he’d present as a beta, because he’d been a scrawny kid. Things had only gotten worse when at ten, his alpha denomination had shown through.

Then, everyone had wanted a piece of him, an opportunity to say that they’d fought an alpha and won, uncaring of his age and size- the world had forced him to become ruthless very quickly.

He’d let the world’s rejection shape him, and he’d only realised that when he’d met Frank.

Frank had made him understand, that alphas were not supposed to be cruel, but rather the very definition of safety and security.

He'd tried his best to ignore the hollow feeling inside of him, and that had worked.

At least, it had, up until he'd smelled that stupid coat.

Now, it was like someone had taken a piece of him and ran off with it, ripped a carefully placed bandage off and left him with an open wound. He could feel the absence, like if it was a whole other person in the room.

He wanted his omega.

It was all he’d thought about now, as he pressed the coat to his nose every night, struggling to catch her fading scent, he wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep again when the scent fully faded.

He keeps going, maybe he even pushes himself harder, his work distracts him, helps him keep a clear head.

He’d even accepted a job to secure artwork for the museum, even though his specialty was protecting people, and Frank was usually the man that handled asset protection.

He’s following closely behind The Scream when he stops dead in his tracks.

One of his employees tosses him a confused glance, but he ignores it as he takes a deep inhale. 

He’d know that vanilla scent anywhere, the smell of apples mixed in and his heart gives an eager kick.

Surely not-

He turns his head, sees a painting of two lovers hiding from each other, kissing through a shroud of white cloth. He studies it for a moment, his mind racing at speeds he can’t fathom.

When the painting gets too far ahead, he turns and resumes his stride, thinking about all the ways he can do his best to get what he wants.

.

He gets permission to access the security footage of the museum.

Who’s really going to deny an alpha anyway?

Billy finds her, or at least the back of her head, and he can’t help the excitement that after weeks of searching, he’s managed to get lucky and obtain a lead on her.

He talks to the security guard that walked her out. With a sleepy voice over the phone, the man tells him that she’s a frequent visitor to the museum on Fridays, and she doesn’t cause any trouble so he lets her stay a little after closing.

“She just likes looking at the pieces, and I can’t be mean to an omega as shy as her.”

Billy’s mouth twitches upward, amused at the biological imprint inside everyone to protect omegas. The men who’d done her a favour to deliver his coat had said near the same thing.

It had made him fond, of a sweet girl, that would no doubt be spooked if he showed up at her home unannounced. Even if he now had the means to trace her back to her home, he couldn’t take the risk. He had to play this right.

.

When you hear Edvard Munch’s The Scream is on display, you vibrate with excitement. Instead of going the opening week, you wait till your usual time the next Friday, when hopefully there’s much less of a crowd to contend with.

It’s not completely empty, but you’re okay with the sparse crowd, you smile, tiptoeing to peek over shoulders so that you can catch a sight of it before you’re at the front.

You love everything about it, the colour and the expressionism of it, you wonder how much the paint has faded over time. The little paragraph beside the painting describes an infinite scream, a universal anxiety, and you think you can almost feel that as you stare at it, the idea that you’re being watched sending a nervous thrill down your spine.

When you move away from the painting however, the feeling lingers. You take a deep breath, closing your eyes to shake the feeling, you don’t understand how a painting can have such an effect.

To clear your head, you find an impressionist nearby, Monet’s reflections of clouds on a lily pond, and you stand in front of it, letting out a long sigh.

When the distinct smell of bergamot hits you, you stiffen. 

Your heart squeezes into your throat, and you try to look around as casually as possible, betas turn to look at you as they scent your distress in the air. 

Did you feel like you were being watched- because you were actually being watched?

You take in another breath, and this time, you’re sure.

Cracked pepper, citrus- 

The alpha was here.

Someone says your name behind you, and you turn in fright.

There he was. Dressed down in casual clothes, trying to blend in with the people around him- as if an alpha as handsome as him ever could.

Billy Russo was devastatingly gorgeous up close.

But you were fucked.

Your eyes widen and you take a step back, knowing that this was definitely about stealing his coat. He would no doubt try to make you pay for cleaning- or worse yet- a new coat entirely.

Your body flushes with fear as you back away from him on shaky legs.

His head tilts as he watches you go, dark eyes caught on your retreating form.

“Don’t run, omega.” He says easily, taking a single stride as you back away, his presence looming over you, igniting something in your stomach like a match being struck.

You make a small sound in the back of your throat, and you do exactly what he says not to.

You run.

Well, not exactly.

More like a quick walk, looking back to see if he follows, you beeline for the bathroom, hoping to hide in there for a moment.

You groan, splashing your face with water, internally grumbling over what you've gotten yourself into.

You should have never grabbed that stupid coat with your stupid omega senses always searching for the right alpha. What did you think? That just because he’d had an amazing scent meant that he wanted to take care of you? 

No, he was probably going to scold you, and force you to pay him back, and you couldn’t afford three thousand for a coat. 

Your throat tightens in panic, your body flushes with fear.

You couldn’t think too much on what he would do if he caught you, all you needed to focus on right now, was getting away.

So you take a deep breath and you shed your jacket, tucking it under your arm and stepping out of the bathroom behind someone. 

There’s not a lot of people, but luckily you know the museum, and you take the most secluded paths that you doubt anyone unfamiliar to the museum would know of.

You sigh happily when you see the exit door in sight, making large meaningful steps, looking back every now and then. Behind you is empty, and you think that you might have actually lost him.

It sends a pang of sadness through you, but you shake your head to shove it away.

You look back once more when you push your way through the exit doors, making sure the path behind you is clear of any six foot alphas.

And you walk right into him.

You’re not sure it is at first, but his size and smell give it away. Your face is pressed securely to his chest, and his hands come up to grip your upper arms firmly.

You raise your head in panic, trying to wrench back from him.

“Relax omega, you’re not in any trouble, I promise.” He says, something in his voice that makes his words sound believable.

You whine in distress.

“Please, I’m sorry, I can’t afford to replace your coat. I shouldn’t have taken it.” You plead, voice wobbling with the struggle to speak under duress.

“Shh, little one, I’m not here to ask you for money.”

His words don’t register in your head, and you begin to cry. Thick swells of tears fall from the corners of your eyes.

“I can’t pay.” You struggle out in a tiny voice.

He grunts, his hands move to cup your face, your tears spilling onto his fingers instead.

“Omega.” He says meaningfully.

The command in his tone makes you look up at him, brain going quiet, the power of his voice catching your attention easily. His stern expression softens.

“I’m not here to make you pay for anything, and I promise you’re not in any trouble.”

You make a little sniffle.

“ ‘M not?” You ask weakly.

The corner of his mouth curves up.

“No, I just want to talk.” 

“Talk?” You repeat dumbly.

His thumbs trace over your cheekbones gently, a soft tingling sensation swims in your head and settles at the top of your spine. Your eyelids flutter as you watch him nod.

“I’ve been searching for you for weeks, omega, since you left me that coat drenched in your sweet scent, I haven’t had a clear thought since.”

You gulp.

“I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“Don’t be sorry just-” He squeezes his eyes shut as if he’s looking for the right words, “Have dinner with me. Tonight. My treat.”

You take a deep breath, eyes widening.

“I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.”

He lets out a swift breath, you worry that you might be aggravating him.

“What aren’t you sure about? Your safety?”

You feel your heart pick up its pace beneath your ribcage, tormenting your body with the feeling of panic.

You reach up, cupping his hands in yours and peeling them off your cheeks. 

“Alphas are… notorious for getting angry when they don’t get their way.” You reply anxiously, your hands uncurling from his, filled with so much trepidation. 

“I understand, but give me a chance to prove myself. There’s something between us, omega, you just have to open yourself up to it.”

You blink, stomach flipping as you debate your options.

You eye him warily, too afraid to say no, too scared of how he would react.

You take another step back, and his face looks pained, his body tense.

You shake your head, scared, taking another cautious step away.

“Please don’t run.” He says softly, it makes you pause.

Maybe… maybe a chance wouldn’t be so bad.

“What about lunch tomorrow?” Somewhere bright and public that would make you feel safer about being around him.

He lets out a slow breath.

“Lunch is great. Where?”

You think for a moment.

“We can meet right here, there’s a place not far from here with nice sandwiches.”

He inclines his head.

“Sandwiches are great.”

You give him a soft smile of amusement, still a little unsure.

“Okay, we’ll meet here tomorrow? Around 12?”

He nods, digging into his pockets for a moment before pulling a card out and extending it to you.

You blink, a little cautious, reaching for the obsidian coloured paper in his hand. You study the raised silver lettering, his name, his job title, his company.

“The one on the left is my cell. Let me know when you get here. If you want, we can look around the museum too.”

Something flips in your chest at the thought. You wonder what he thought of The Scream.

“No,” You mumble, shaking your head, “The museum is packed on a Saturday. I hate crowds.”

He nods in understanding.

“No crowds then, maybe we can take a walk in the park.”

“Maybe.” You reply, still a little unsure of this entire scenario.

“You're safe, Omega, I promise.”

You offer a sad smile.

“That's what they all say.”

.

He was going to kill every Alpha that had ever made you feel unsafe.

He sits in his car, after you'd denied his offer to at least take you home. 

Your scent fades where he'd touched you, his body demanding more. Apples, so fucking sweet his mouth waters. 

Halfway to his home, a text comes in from you, shyly informing him that you'd made it home.

He'd asked, wanted to make sure that you were safe as the late evening had turned to night.

He keeps it simple, types out a small message to put you at ease.

Thank you. Sweet dreams

.

.

.

A/N: Pretty sure y'all are gonna hate this. Sorry.

Also, just asking for more without leaving any kind of feedback makes me feel kinda used 😅

#billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo x female reader #my writings #the punisher #omega!reader #a/b/o dynamics #a/b/o verse #alpha!billy russo

[key-rk]

(Close up)

Y'all, it's them again, I love them sosososo muchhhh (another ramble🤞)

I really do like it when they just spend time in each other's company (I think my posts make that very obvious HAHHA)

But even the way they interact w each other is so important to me, especially Drake cause it's shown very clearly through his character that he doesn't particularly tolerate people unless they're inside his little circle–and even then, he tends to lose his temper or ignore them from time to time. While he does do that with Lp, numerous times he apologised and tried to tone his frustrations down for his sake, which, the fact that Drake goes through that effort speaks volumes. (YALLL...)

Just in general, their abilities to be together without getting tired is nice, Launchpad is really the only person Drake allows to be a part of both lives;crime fighting and civilian. With Morgana he mainly only wants to see her as 'Darkwing', with Gosalyn and Honker, he would prefer they stay out of his work and stay safe–Launchpad on the other hand, is in both worlds, which truly just goes to show how much they trust each other. (Y'all that's my favourite little detail ever)

Let's hope that made sense 🤞

#darkwing duck #darkwing duck 1991 #drake mallard #launchpad mcquack #darkwing duck fanart #gosalyn mallard #dwd91 #gosalyn waddlemeyer #drakepad #themmmm #chilling at hamburger hippo

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Quiet Ones 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You live a quiet life, but your peace is fractured by a chaotic man.

Characters: Lloyd Hansen, short!shy!reader

Note: like Staind said in that one song, it's been a while.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Lloyd brings you down the flight of stairs, his arm through yours as you teeter in the heels. You’ve never been one for anything besides flats or sneakers. You’re getting acquainted to the painful arch of your feet and it’s doing little for your agitation. 

While this man might be entirely too direct at times, he can be just as vague. You still have no idea why you’re dressed like some dainty rose. Whatever delusion he’s living in, it’s not the fairytale he believes it is. 

Savoury aromas waft in the air and draw your nose towards the kitchen. You glance at Lloyd curiously. He puts his hand over yours and winks. You quickly turn your head straight. 

“Don’t worry, jelly bean, I got everything sorted. Can’t have you sweating up a storm in the kitchen. Private chef,” he clicks his tongue, “besides, our guests won’t settle for anything less.” 

You arch a brow but don’t ask. As much as you want to know who he’s expecting, you dread finding out. You highly doubt it’s good company. 

He takes you into the living room. A large chandelier dangles from the high ceiling, the long crystals casting marbled pale light around the space. The tall windows peer out onto the green lawn, dim in the rising evening hue. The ornaments are just as sleek and precise as every other room. Polished marble and spotless porcelain. 

As you take in the curved couch and round ottoman, Lloyd shifts your hand from the crook of his arm and tugs you to face him. He raises your knuckles high and kisses them. You blanch and resist the urge to pull away. His mustache tickles your skin. 

“Baby, you look spectacular,” he purrs, “did I mention that dress hugs your ass in all the right ways.” 

You bite down and nearly snatch your arm away. No. Don’t rile him. Tolerance will keep you safe.  

“You didn’t,” you murmur as he clings to your hand and places it against the chest of his jacket. He wraps you up in his arms as if he means to dance with you. 

“Well, shit, it really does,” his hands crawl down your sides and he scoops your ass up in his large hands, forcing a squeak from you as you press against his chest. “How about an extra dessert tonight?” He winks. “I bet it’s sweet, huh?” 

He leans in, nuzzling your forehead as he growls. You shudder, but he might mistake it for excitement. His nose brushes yours but his lips stop short of yours as a chime interrupts him. He freezes and reluctantly draws away. 

“Wait here,” he smirks and flutters his fingers longingly as he struts away. 

You blow out through your lips and swivel to glance around. It’s a nice place but you miss your apartment. You miss being alone. You miss when you didn’t know this man. 

You mash your hands together and wring them. You hear voices. A man and a woman. Great. This is really strange. You don’t understand what exactly he’s up to. Is he not afraid you’ll start begging for help? Somehow you don’t think that would do you much good. 

“She’s in here,” Lloyd’s voice carries through ahead of him, “mom, dad, my lady,” he waves towards you. 

You stand frozen to the floor. Uh. Mom? Dad? Oh gosh, it’s a family dinner. You blink and slowly step forward as Lloyd waves you closer. 

“My mother, Delores, and father, Lawrence,” he introduces the two other figures. 

The woman is tall and blond and statuesque. You feel even smaller in her presence. She looks down her long nose, her irises blue as ice, and her lips a soft shade of rose. Her hair is so icy, you can’t tell if it’s blonde or silver. 

The man is as tall as Lloyd, a little broader, and wears a cerulean jacket over black. His hair is streaked with the same sandy shade as his son, mingled with shocks of white. He tilts his head as he measures you, his eyes narrowing. 

“Hm,” that’s all you get. You feel much the same. 

“We’ve come all this way, tell me supper is ready,” the woman, Delores, tuts. “Crab cakes, right, honey?” 

She looks at her son and he frowns. His mustache makes the expression even more theatrical. You hate to disappoint but what did he expect? I mean, look at you. 

“And I appreciate you coming,” Lloyd says, sounding unlike you’ve ever heard him in your short acquaintance. Something about it is disingenuous, for as honest as that man can be. “We’re super excited to have you.” 

“Have you had those windows looked at?” The man stops to scope the ceiling to floor panes, “impractical things.” 

Lloyd’s shoulders square. You can’t see his face but you’re certain he’s not happy. You don’t see anything wrong with the place. It’s a bit over the top, too sleek, too shiny, but it’s not horrid. Most people can’t afford anything like it. People like you in your boxy apartment. 

“This way,” Lloyd says and waves them towards another doorway.  

He takes them across the entryway and you follow behind. The dining room has high ceilings and an overly long table. You can’t imagine anyone would ever need that many seats. 

Lawrence sneers with disapproval as Lloyd pulls out a chair for his mother. Delores primps herself as she sits, popping a compact out of her purse to touch up her lipstick. You stare from the doorway, drawn forward as your host clears his throat and eases another chair away from the table. 

You near and sit. His parents have even you on eggshells. You can tell they won’t be much help to you. You’ve got more than enough with their son. 

“I’ll just go check on dinner and you can get to know each other,” Lloyd declares as he claps his hands. 

You wince as his mother snaps the mirror shut and puts it away. She looks you up and down as you keep a dull stare. His father examines the butter knife as if searching for any speck of filth. 

“So, dear,” Delores begins. “Aren’t you a quaint one?” 

You scrunch your nose up. Quaint? You’re not a house. 

“Quiet, aren’t you?” She chuckles, “well, what do you do then? How’d he find you?” 

“Probably one of those websites again,” Lawrence grumbles and curls his lips. “Women these days, they’ll jump at a dollar sign.” 

You shake your head and tilt it. You’re not a mean person. You wouldn’t consider yourself malicious at all but he annoys you. And her. Their judgement reminds you of your schoolyard bullies. 

“I do data entry,” you answer, ignoring the snipe. “We met... uh...” you frown and look at the table.  

We met when your son stalked me and starved me out of my apartment. Yeah, you don’t think that’s going to get more than another condescending trill from her and indifferent grunt from him. You pick at your nail, the movement catching her eye, and you pull your hands apart and hide them behind the table. 

“We met...” 

“At the cafe,” Lloyd strides in and approaches the chair next to you, standing behind it, “supper will be out shortly.” He sits and grabs your hand, bringing it onto the tabletop, “you know, I saw her from across the coffee shop. Just waiting. I was just taken by her. Her effortless beauty--” 

“Effortless indeed,” Delores comments. 

You flick your lashes and glance over at your abductor. How is he preferable in this moment? You blink and turn your dull gaze ahead, staring through the blonde. You don't do well with confrontation, you're more the type for avoidance.

Lloyd quiets and brings his other hand up, chewing his fingertips before ripping them away from his mouth. He keeps his grip on you with his other and sighs. He looks up and shrugs. 

The silence doesn’t last long as several bodies enter and lay out plates in front of each seat. A man in a black jacket and chef’s cap emerges and announces the appetizer; crab cakes with black truffle crostini. You stare at the food. It doesn’t look very tasty; it’s too curated. 

“Mm, crab,” Delores sings as she picks up her cutlery, “how delightful.” 

“Yes, see, I remembered,” Lloyd utters. 

“All this flash,” Lawrence clucks as he lifts his fork, “you know, there’s more too life than show. Your fancy car, the house, your women...” 

“Dad,” Lloyd goes rigid, “she’s not just another woman. I wouldn’t bring you here if--” 

“Oh, no? The last one, I recall, was wearing a bright red thong. How do you think I know that?” The older man snips. 

“She’s not like that,” Lloyd rebuffs. “I told you, she’s different. She’s the one.” 

“Well, she definitely doesn’t talk as much as the last one,” Delores remarks tritely. “And Lawr,” she nudges her husband with her elbow, “she does have a certain allure. She definitely is... different.” 

Your brows nearly meet in the middle. You close your eyes to hide the roll. You exhale through your nose. You don’t care about these people. You don’t even want to be here. So, why try? 

That's it. Don't try. You don't need to impress any of them. You're not going to dance for them like they want you to. They aren't your parents and your own parents don't earn enough of your concern. You don't care about them and you definitely don't care about the man beside you.

Defence is the best offence, right? You're not going for an outright attack, that won't work. It's about repulsion.

You wiggle free of Lloyd’s grasp and surpass the cutlery to pick up the crostini with your fingers. You shove the whole cracker in your mouth and chew without caution. You hum and nod as you swallow it down. Maybe if you can disgust his parents enough, they’ll make him get rid of you. It’s not much of plan but more than you had before. 

“Oh my,” Delores hovers her cutlery over the crab cake and gapes at you. 

“Mm, oh my, good,” you speak through a full mouth. 

“Uh, right, mom,” Lloyd raises his voice, “did you try the wine?” 

“The wine,” you say through another mouthful, “mmm.” 

You slurp messily. Your heart is racing and your skin is tingly. You don’t talk in front of strangers often. Always mindful of every single action. You never want to draw attention. Never step out of line but now, you’re toeing every one. It’s embarrassing. 

“Lloyd,” Delores breathes. 

“Honey,” Lloyd touches your shoulder, “let’s slow down.” 

“I’m starving,” you argue and nearly choke, coughing into your hand. 

“We still have several courses,” he lowers his voice, “please, jelly bean, don’t do that.” 

“Do we have any more of this stuff,” you hold up the second crostini. 

“Please,” he begs and puts his hand on your thigh, squeezing. 

You smile, food in your teeth, and show it to the table. You’re going to barf, not just from the soft cheese but your humiliation. Hold it together, just a little longer. 

“She definitely is... something,” Lawrence says and sends his wife a look of disgust. 

You clear your plate as quickly as you can. The food is like rocks in your stomach. You’re not used to eating that much, not to mention, that sort of fare. It’s rich to the point of too much. 

You wiggle your nail between your teeth and pick at them until Lloyd grabs your hand. You flutter your lashes in his direction. You really think you might throw up. Not only because of the fishy taste in your mouth. 

Before you can think of your next move, the plates are cleared away and replaced with the next course. An entree of filet mignon and seasonal vegetables, as announced by the chef. You imagine it’s similar to what they serve in those fine restaurants you could never afford. 

“Fine cut,” Lawrence offers as he turns over the steak with his knife and fork. 

You saw through your own and look at the middle, “ew, is it supposed to be this colour?” 

The table is quiet as you poke at the steak with your knife. You push it to the edge of the plate and make a face. You poke at the roasted potatoes instead.  

“Rare,” Lawrence sniffs, “I’ll take the chef’s name.” 

“Can he make cheeseburgers?” You ask. 

“Jelly bean,” Lloyd hisses, “what’s going on? What’s wrong with you?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you shrug and look at your plate and huff, “fine.” 

Like a bratty kid you pout. You pick up the steak with your hand and gnaw on it, making it into an effort. Lloyd reaches over and takes it from you, putting it back on your plate. 

“Stop, please,” he begs. 

You shrug and wipe your hands on your dress. He latches onto your hand, gripping it tight until your joints hurt. You wince as he stands, still clinging to you. 

“I was meaning to wait until dessert but... she’s had a long day. She’s not feeling herself,” he reaches into his jacket with his other hand and turns. He looks down at you and clears his throat, lowering himself to his knee. His blue eyes meet your grimace. Oh, god. “Jelly bean, sweetheart,” he pulls out the velvet box and your stomach lurches, “will you--” 

You bend over your lap as you lose all control. You spew onto the floor, the sick splashing onto your feet and Lloyd’s pants. You cup your mouth as you puff, bile staining your tongue. You groan and stay folded over your knees. 

“Oh, Lloyd, you can’t mean to marry that?” Delores sneers. 

“Truly, son, you brought us here for... her? Really?” 

Lloyd looks at you and his forehead lines. He shakes his head and opens the ring box, picking the ring from the cushion, and grabs your hand. He shoves the row of large diamonds onto your finger. You stare at the sparkle in horror as you slowly sit up and he stands. 

“We are getting married,” he insists, “and I didn’t bring you here for your blessing. I only brought you to let you know.” 

“Married?” You and Delores echo in fraught unison. 

“Yes!” Lloyd stomps his foot, nearly stepping in the puke. “You can’t stop me, she can’t stop me,” he jabs his finger in the air, “no one can stop me!” 

“Settle down, boy,” Lawrence says. 

“Come on, baby,” Lloyd snatches your wrist and pulls you to your feet, “let me get you cleaned up.” He winks and wiggles his tongue out at you and his parents groan.  He curls his arm around you and lowers his voice to a whisper, "I got something else for you to choke on."

Well, that didn’t work. 

#lloyd hansen #dark lloyd hansen #dark!lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #the quiet ones #series #the gray man

[urhoneycombwitch]

On dad!Steve !! I would love if you could write something about him coming to terms with becoming a dad/pregnancy and labour/just first time dad!Steve in general makes me melt (especially if he's a girl dad 😔)

kay I’ll speak on it bc I have thoughts for SURE

cw: dad!steve, pregnant!R, light emetephobia ment, childbirth desc (no smut but my page is +18 only)

canon-wise, I feel like Steve’s only gotten smarter. obviously he’s still got a goofy himbo side. but he’s getting cleaner with fighting. sharper with his observations. lighter on his feet that’s only come with lots of protective practice.

but the part of him that really cares goes into overdrive after s4, in the canon I’m building in my head 😇 I think he might get a little obsessive about safety for awhile, in the wake of their heroic, underground-world-defeating victory. that kicks into high gear when he finds out you’re pregnant.

(see more of my to-be-named world building here)

for the first few months of your pregnancy he’s never been more grateful to be working in the same building as you. he takes every opportunity to to visit you at your library posting, between teaching his classes (under the pretense of grading papers. Professor Harrington can generally be found at a one-elbow lean on your front desk any time he isn’t in his office.)

he just loves you so much and wants to make sure you’re doing okay. he brings you ginger soda, the fancy brand you like- kept stocked in the staff fridge when your stomach is roiling with nausea, passed with an apologetic kiss to the back of your hand. 

bleeding heart Steve feels so bad he can’t take all the pain away, does his best to alleviate your new and growing discomforts. rubs your shoulders and puffy ankles down with lotion each night. gives up coffee in the mornings (even tho he used to RUN on caffeine) so you can kiss him without aversion 💖. he’s with you for every shaky night-sweat throw up session on the bathroom floor, kneeling to hold you hair back from getting sick in it. warm palm on your lower back in assurance and comfort. 

he calls it at 6 months. begs and cajoles and patiently argues (sweetheart, you’re wakin’ up so early with work. you should really rest, anyways- find a nice horizontal hobby to keep you off your feet. treat it like vacation 🫶) which turn into not so patient arguments (practically in your third trimester, goddammit, you want me to go crazy with worry? gonna have premature greys at this rate. let me keep you safe, angel, please. for my sake.) until finally you agree to take the damn maternity leave early.

and u know Steve’s reading all the books. how to be a good first-time dad. 101 lessons for the new parent. mother’s health and wellness magazines. childbirthing books. by the end of your third trimester, he’s gained enough knowledge to be an honorary midwife. could deliver the baby himself, if the situation really called for it. better to be prepared 🫡

and that spring , you’re both lounging on the couch. there’s a sunny spot under the big window, and you’re warming like cats, you feet propped in Steve’s lap. moon of a stomach peeking out from underneath a stolen one of Steve’s soft tees. his eyes are fixed on his library book on gentle parenting until you take a sharp inhale.

there’s a spasming band just under your navel that you press your hands into, and Steve pauses in rubbing absentminded at your ankle. looks up at you in concern and then at his watch and says “whoa, that’s like, 4 contractions in the last 5 minutes. are these for real or what?”

and you’re like “uhmmmm. don’t b mad but my water kind of broke this afternoon.”

and Steve looks at you with this very poorly concealed bewilderment that’s quickly morphing into shock and so you start talking before he can like “no no it’s chill. it’s cool!! 😎 doesn’t even hurt that bad and I knew you’d be home at 4 anyways….”

and you quiet when Steve rips his glasses off and pinches his nose between two fingers and says in a Very strangled voice “yeah. okay. well it’s 5 PM traffic right now which means rush hour which means we need to go to plan C right off the bat…”

and you watch this man unravel in the most efficient way possible. tugging at the roots of his hair until it stands overly-tall but managing to pack all your bags in the car in under 3 minutes. a record. and he gets to the hospital using all the mapped-out backroads so you’re there in a tight 15.

but as it turns out, a speedy arrival to the L&D ward of Hawkins Memorial wasn’t even necessary, because you spend the next 21 hours in the most intense, soul-crushing pain Steve’s ever seen you go thru in his life and it almost breaks him. for real. 

he’s so soft for you and no amount of reading about other people giving birth could have prepared him for the heartache and helplessness of seeing you ride the wave of a contraction. or go thru the brutal process of getting an epidural, your hands digging into his forearms hard enough to leave bruises as you leaned on him thru it all. 

and Steve did not know he could fall more in love w you but he does, the second you become a parent alongside him, wet and wriggling baby girl placed on your chest. spend two nights in the hospital healing up and fumbling through feedings and giggling over your new tiny daughter. counting her fingers and toes every time you unwrap her. cooing over those big brown eyes that look just like Steve’s.

and with his first baby, Steve is overprotective to the max. only Robin can babysit at first, and that’s only after she’s checked off a rigorous amount of reading material from Steve’s comprehensive required book list. he’s fussy about her routine (truly puts so much of the postnatal stress in himself so you can focus on bonding w/ your babe and resting), is fiercely protective over u and the new baby, like mama bear to the maxxx.

he’s actually GREAT at multitasking and the all consuming constant buzz of listening for certain types of crying and feedings and baby hand-offs thru the night really solidify the fact that he can do this. he’s already a million times better than his own parents at it, a fact of which you constantly remind and encourage him with. 

and I’ve said it before but I’ll say it again, best thing to ever happen to Steve Harrington is having a second kid bc it chills him way the hell out. for reasons chalked up simply to It's the way the world works, Steve falls into a natural rhythm w your second kid. finds his stride as they say. he’s just as excited and caretaking and protective during your second pregnancy as with your first, but this time without all of the panic and wire-thin nerves. coasts thru calmly.

perhaps a touch too calm, because when you go into labor with your second kid, it’s the middle of a snowstorm in Hawkins, and since u and Steve went thru such a long hard birth with your eldest, you both take your sweet time getting ready to go. saying goodbye to your 3 year-old while aunt Robin comes to stay. even stopping for a snack on the way to the hospital because last time they didn’t let you eat and you were fucking ravenous the whole time.

but then Steve has to drive so slow and safe bc of the snowy roads and you’re still a good 20 mins out when things progress so rapidly and so unlike the first time around; Steve is so level-headed and  lets you crush all the bones in his right hand while he drives with his left, coaching you through breathing exercises, trying to keep calm but oh shit, you’re making the same sounds you made three years ago when you brought your first baby into the world, all low groans and gritted teeth and Steve’s pleading with you to hold on, just a few more minutes as he coasts into the emergency bay of L&D. doesn’t give a fuck about parking in a tow zone, they can take the damn car, Steve’s already launching himself out of the drivers seat to scoop you up and hike it indoors. 

in the nick of time. 10 minutes and a few pushes later and your second baby is there, all scrunched and tiny, so much smaller than her sister, got the slope of your nose and Steve’s pretty cupids bow. she arrived so fast it feels like a joke, you and Steve cuddling a bit cramped (the way you all like it) in the hospital bed, laughing a little, marveling at the fact that you’re a family of four now, how different it’s all been the second time around. how neither of you realized how much your hearts could expand to engulf your two kids with so much love, it feels like you’re both bursting at the seams 💖

#lu’s anons #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #dad!steve harrington #dad!steve harrington x reader #mom!reader #parent!reader #steve harrington x pregnant!reader #pregnancy cw

[i-love-scarameowche]

may I please request Yandere Geto with a sorcerer gn reader who escaped. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.

Thank you for your time.

depravity

A/N: this was nice to write, thank you for requesting it!<33

TW: kidnapping, murder mentions, nonconsensual nonsexual touching, yandere Geto, gn reader.

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

You really thought you lost him, that he would never find you. But he did. Of course he did. He always will. He always has.

You were too worried about getting a hotel room. But it's not like you have any money to do that in the first place. You've just been walking from place to place, too scared to stay in one for longer than resting. You left around two days ago, and you started to believe that you could find a place, get a job, and move far away where he would never find you. You wouldn't mind changing your name too much, and being a sorcerer is so draining. Maybe you could settle down, and date without wondering if it'll be the last time you'll see your partner every time you go to work.

It was too good to be true, really. The little bit of hope you had left was crushed underneath the echoing footsteps of Suguru. You would recognize them anywhere. They're soft, like he's approaching an injured animal, yet the sound is deafening to your ears.

The pangs of hunger in your stomach could never compare to the feeling that you get whenever Suguru touches you. You've tried to understand him, you get it, you do. The feeling of working so hard for someone who will never care, who will only hurt and hate you. The feeling of wanting to protect the people you love from that someone and failing so hard. But you could never commit the acts he has. The thought of the lives of siblings, parents, and lovers being crumpled underneath your feet like a piece of worthless paper makes you want to cry.

"Get up." Suguru hums, his hand holding your bicep. He knows you haven't eaten for a while-he had to force feed you when you were with him because you didn't want to eat food given to you by him-and that you've been sleeping in the cold. He could try to understand, and he has, but to him, you're only being fooled by your empathy. He was like you, once. He's only trying to help.

"I said get up." Suguru hisses, his tone harsher but his voice quieter as he roughly pulls you up. You then try to tug your arm out of his grasp, wanting him to let go of you. "Let me go," You mumble, trying to sound tough but you feel like crying. Your eyes are watering as you continue to pull away from Suguru. He just grabs you, pulling you into his arms. He missed you, so much. He's warm, the hug is tight, but it's so comfortable. You hate him, you really do. But maybe you could relax. Just for a little.

But you can't. You want to be warm and loved and safe. But not like this. Not by him.

You start to push at Suguru's chest and shoulders, but you're weak from days of hunger that was satiated. And even if you weren't, you could never overpower him. You know that. Why do you try? Suguru doesn't want to hurt you. Though sometimes you just give him no other choice.

"Stop it." Suguru states simply, closing his eyes in annoyance as he tries to not hurt you. He's angry, rightfully so. You left. And he's been so stressed out, wondering where you are, if you've been okay.

You quickly feel so tired again, so worn out. You want to keep struggling, want to keep fighting. But you're so tired. Your body aches and your eyes burn. Suguru picks you up, you're limp in his arms. You feel defeated, like you're betraying yourself. But you can't help it. You tell yourself to just pretend. That it'll be better if you pretend.

And you do. You pretend that you're in the wanted embrace of your warm lover, and not in the arms of your cold captor. You feel Suguru pick you up, your eyes closed now. You don't want to look at him.

You don't remember falling asleep, but you wake up in the room you were kept in before. Wrapped in warm blankets on the bed, Suguru's bed. And you're right back where this all started. Suguru's never really punished you before, always doting on you. He's stern, but his punishments are just a slap on the wrist. He seemed angrier this time, though. Your arms are sore where Suguru held them, maybe it was just from sleeping on a cold concrete floor this whole time, but when you pull up your sleeves you see bruises, so that's obviously not true.

You lay there for a while, still wrapped in the blankets before you notice some food on the nightstand. There's a note from Suguru like always. Should you eat it? You don't know. It's not like you'll ever escape anyway, you might as well just give in.

Notes : I didn't know how I should end it so the end might be a little weird

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere jjk #yandere jjk x reader #jjk x reader #yandere suguru x reader #yandere suguru geto #suguru geto x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen x reader #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere geto x reader #yandere geto #geto x reader #🌹 ʳᵒˢᵉˢ ⁱⁿᶠⁱⁿⁱᵗᵉ ᶠʳᵉᵉˢⁱᵃˢ #🏵️ ʳᵒˢᵉˢ ˢᵐᵃˡˡ ᵃᵖᵖˡᵉ ᵇˡᵒˢˢᵒᵐˢ

[mishwanders]

LU Fierce Deity | Fluffy Romantic Alphabet Headcanons

Warnings: none, safe for everyone!

Author’s Notes: I found a list of headcanons I felt confident in doing, so we’re starting off strong with the big deity man! Written by Mishwanders, please do not repost. Reblogs and nice comments are appreciated!

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Fierce Deity shows his affection in the quietest of ways. Soft gazes and gentle touches, through kisses are feather light, which is something you would have never expected from a war god. He does not speak often, but when he does, it is filled with admiration for you.

B = Babe (What would they use as pet names? Do they use them a lot?)

My jewel/gem, precious little thing, my star, my light, or even my heart.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Considering how long he’s lived, he didn’t really know cuddling was a thing, being kept locked away inside a mask and all. However, he starts to understand the appeal when Time allows you to borrow his mask, keeping it beside you under the covers because you like the sense of protection it provides. He’ll watch you through Times eye, silently admiring you from afar until he’s able to find his way out, so he can wrap you up in his arms for real.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

If the goddesses permit it, he would love to settle down somewhere far away where no one would be able to reach either of you. He’s realized what he’s missed out on, having been at Time and Malon’s side, witnessing their love and life grow. When he meets you, he realizes truly how much he wishes to have something real with you.

Don’t ask him to cook though, pretty sure he’d burn it. Hunting is his expertise, not cooking.

E = Emotion (How are they with showing emotion in public versus private?)

Both directions it’s not easy for him. Very rarely does he let it slip up, but when he does, he finds it encouraging when you don’t react rashly against it. He feels as if maybe he can open up more, with time.

F = Flirt (How do they flirt? Are they smooth or awkward?)

His form of flirting is straight up just telling you how he feels, no beating around the bush with this one. The decorum he would have had in a previous time has gone and died, he needs you to know everything he thinks about you then and there.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

As I stated before, he’s surprisingly gentle with you, physically treating you as if you were a precious jewel that could easily break at any moment. Emotions, he’s still learning, but he’s better equipped now to handle those things now, having been with Time for so long. For the most part he is gentle with your emotions, but he knows there’s still some rough edges that need to be worked out, so his blatant statements don’t cut you.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

HE LOVES THEM WHEN HE GETS THEM! PLEASE GIVE THE BIG GUY A HUG HE DESERVES THEM!

He realizes other’s like their need for space, so he tries not to do it sooo often, but he can’t help himself when he gets overwhelmed with affection for you. His hugs can go a few ways. He’s either sitting and pulling you into him, resting his head on your shoulder or straight up pulling you off the ground and squishing you in those big ol’ arms of his.

| = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He doesn’t outright say “I love you”, but does so by telling you how much you mean to him with all of his favorite nicknames thrown in. “My star, you are my guiding light.” “My heart, you are my home.” “My light, you consume me.” Etc., etc.

J= Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they're jealous?)

He’s learned the Chains mannerisms well enough not to become jealous of them, but the second someone else even gives you a second look on the road, he’s gone into guard dog mode, laser locking eyes with them to scare them off. You’re his precious gem, not theirs.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

As I said before, his kisses are more often than not feather light, gentle as can be from the Fierce Deity. His favorite place to kiss you is on the top of your head, forehead, mainly because it’s easier for him to reach when standing. But if he’s kneeling down or has you in his arms? Planting that kiss on your lips!

He likes it when you kiss his scars and facial marks. He feels a certain tenderness well up in his heart when you don’t shy away from it.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

I’m of the headcanon that he would have had some dealings with raising Time when he was just a little kid trying to make his way back to Hyrule from Termina, so he’d at least have some experience with that and the children from the tree in Termina.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

Early. He likes to see the sun rise, hear the birds and the bugs sing. It’s not often he gets to hear the sound, especially when he’s been locked away in the mask for so long. If you sit out there with him, just enjoying the moment, he’d greatly appreciate it and it’ll be a memory that sticks with him forever.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

Quietly, mostly, when he’s away from the mask. However you do notice he tends to look up at the sky often, thinking about an old story he’d tell you when he was finally ready.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

When it comes to the matters of himself and not his feelings for you, it’s a slow reveal as small parts of him begin to open up with time and trust in you to keep those secrets harbored safely with you. They tend to come out in the moments when he’s in places or situations that remind him of his past, the good and the bad.

P = Propose (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Proposals made by Fierce Deity do not require a ring, it’s his undying loyalty and fealty to you, swearing his oath to be your undying protector and valiant lover.

Somewhere in the distance you can still hear Majora rolling their eyes from the grave.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Every little detail that you give to him is like a yummy little morsel of knowledge that gets locked into the vault of “my heart facts”. You have to be careful with what you tell him you like, because if you say you like birds, you best be sure that he’s going to try and catch every bird he sees for you to show you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

When you requited your love for him, every time you smile, the way you laugh. He’s down bad for the simplest of things because it warms his heart.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

He is your own personal guard dog and would protect you ‘till his dying breath. The ways he would like to be protected are less physical and more emotional. He needs to know he can trust you to keep his heart safe, no matter what.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He puts more effort in everyday things and small gifts, like little trinkets and treasures he thinks you might like, than he does anniversaries or dates. To him, time is endless and ever changing, so remembering all the dates can get a bit lost unless you’ve specifically mentioned one that was important to you. Those he’s sure to remember.

U = Unique (What makes them unique as a partner?)

Physically? He’s stuck in a mask/in Time’s body (until otherwise specified). Literally? He’s a god. But I think the thing that truly sets him apart from others is his undying love and adoration he has for you, it’s like an endless ocean once you truly get a taste of it.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not super concerned, but concerned enough that he wants to keep himself put together. He needs his armor for a reason, and now with protecting his love, he’s going to keep that stuff ready to go.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Yes. He didn’t truly know what he was missing out on until he saw what Time had with Malon. He was practically dying for it and would feel like he was dying if he’d lost you.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

He can walk around as a person in a dark realm or if he puts enough focus into channeling his power into the mask. He can wield dark artifacts at will to transform or give him a moment of respite from being stuck within the mask.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn't like, either in general or in a partner?)

He does not like being made fun of. He already has a hard enough time understanding others emotions, it hurts and angers him when he finds he’s the butt of the joke so to speak.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

In the mask? Flat. Out of the mask? Flat on his back with an arm under his pillow, fingertips grazing the knife he keeps under it while the other is draped around you to keep you close.

#can you tell I’m down bad or can you tell I’m down really bad #I love him your honor I can’t help it #lu fierce deity #fierce deity #fierce deity x reader #lu fierce deity x reader #linked universe #linked universe headcanons #writing: fierce deity

[monalogs]

huge fan !!!

i made an ao3 account just to give you more kudos lol

if its okay, can i request for some headcanons for Luther? dating him/being his pet specifically, but i go so feral for how you write him that im sure anything you write will be amazing

have an amazing day 😭🙏💞

Pet/Girlfriend headcannons ! | Luther Von Ivory

➷ Paring - Luther Von Ivory x Fem!Reader [Randal's Friends / Ranfren]

➷ CWs - master/pet play, use of 'sir', unsafe sex, clothed sex, fingering, possessive/controlling tendencies, praise, overstimulation, isolation as a form of punishment, domestication kink (?), breeding kink, use of German words (translations provided) he is ur boyfinrd

a/n - AH cheesing that you like my work, thank you for supporting me :3 !! Luther is definitely my sweetheart... so cute... i love writing for him... as always requests are open friends !

Luther Von Ivory… such a nice guy!

Whether you consider yourself his pet or girlfriend, (why not both?) he will always make sure to take care of you

✽ Trust that he will spoil you.

New clothes, new gifts, new everything!

Makes really good use of his everything catalog subscription

He won't willingly say that you are spoiled, that's favoritism! He cares for all his family, you're just a very good pet/girlfriend! (despite everybody knowing it)

✽ Every morning, he chooses your outfit

He makes sure to lay it all out for you out on his vintage dresser, showing multiple options before he ultimately decides on one

Luther’s favorite thing to dress you in?

Skirts, skirts, skirts! A couple cute dresses here and there – but wow does he go crazy for skirts!

There's just something so lovely about them; how the waistband perfectly hugs the curve of your waist, how it exposes your sweet thighs for him whenever you do chores around the house, how easy it is to slide his large hands under…

Luther also really likes clothed sex. He appreciates skin to skin but scheiße (language!) is it a sight to see you all messy in the clothes he got just for you

✽ Tracks EVERYTHING

Have you eaten? Brushed your teeth? Did you do your chores? What room are you going to? What did Sebastian just say to you?

He wants to know it ALL

Your business is basically his business. When you're a couple, it's important there are no secrets!

Even has a little notebook consisting of your daily doings and schedule

Trust that it's to keep you safe and healthy, he truly does care about you a lot. More than you’ll ever think

✽ He's very big on discipline

He expects you to behave and listen… like a good pet!

It’s easy to imagine Luther as a brat tamer, which he can be, though the novelty wears off for him if you continue to be difficult

So, it's much preferred if you just listen to him

✽ It goes hand in hand with domestication

Girlfriend or pet, he still holds you to that standard of taking care of yourself and the house

Wifey behavior – if you must

Luther just loves to see you on your hands and knees… scrubbing the floor, of course!

✽ Adores using pet names and honorifics.

He likes to call you pet, but he finds calling you dear and geliebte (beloved) much more endearing

Call him Sir or Master and he loses it! It's so cute coming from you, he’ll make you say it hundreds of times and cause you to lose your voice

Don’t worry, he always has tea ready to soothe you with later :)

✽ You guys are attached at the hip

Moreso, he keeps you there

You both share his room, sleep in the same bed, wake up at the same times, do everything together!

It's impossible to do anything without him hovering around you

Isn't sneaky at all... it's easy to spot him staring at you through a tiny sliver of an opened door

"Don't worry, dear. Just checking up on you. Keep doing what you're doing."

It’s exactly how he wants it. Bonding is very important, don't go thinking otherwise

✽ It's safe to say that he gets very possessive

He knows you won't ever leave, he's made sure of it by convincing you of how lost you’d be without him

He’s had Randal tell you terrible stories of monsters and freaks, just so you can run into his arms

“Outside pets don't last long,” he tells you. “You're much safer staying by my side, okay?”

Luther makes you nod and promise that you won't ever leave him

He gives you everything a good little human pet needs, so why would you?

So unlike his catmen or even Randal, he rarely ever lets you outside the house

The world can be dangerous, and he’d much prefer to keep you in the “controlled” environment that is the Ivory house

Right where he can keep his eyes on you.

✽ Dates tend to consistently be on the Ivory property

Again, he loves spending time with you!

Luther totally does make that effort to plan dates with you, he'll dress up in his nicest dress shirt and help you pick out a cute dress and do your hair<3

Then, he'll hold your hand and give you your favorite flowers, complimenting you like he didn't help you get ready

He plans out nice activities for you two, something you can spend hours doing... he wants you by his side for all of it

Favorites are: reading books in the study room, cooking dinner together, watching tv for hours as you lay your head in his lap (with petting, obviously), and gardening

Can anything be considered a date if you are constantly together in the same space?

On the rare occasions Luther lets you out with him, he likes to take you shopping! Just don't be greedy and ask for too much…

Either that or drive in movie theaters. Simpler the better.

He has you home by 10 pm (what a gentleman!)

✽ Like I said in my last post about Luther, he is very intimate

Everything is a process when it comes to sex with him

He usually prefers to lie you down on his king bed, thin lips trailing down your collarbone

Let him hold you just a little closer, hands slipping underneath the cute panties he bought you

His long fingers always tease – even if he doesn't intend to

Luther just wants to hear your soft moans, urging him to do more

He’ll shush you, but he doesn't actually want you to be quiet. It's more to comfort you – to say that it's okay, Luther will take care of you now, dear<3

He likes to tell you what to do, as if you don't already know

Luther tends to almost treat you like a lost baby animal, petting at your hair and whispering sweet nothings as he unbuckles his dress pants above you

Once you envelop his lengthy cock, he always makes sure to kiss at your forehead as he pushes in inch by inch. You poor thing, he is quite big… you take it so well for him

Luther doesn't tend to moan or grunt, but he makes sure to let you know how great it is with praises of good girl and so perfect, meine süße (my sweet)

His pace stays slow and deep, hips thrusting rhythmically as he listens to your pleasure and reactions

It's maybe a little crazy how he knows exactly all the spots to have you blushing and squirming under him

Luther isn’t a fan of mess, considering how neat of a person he is

So expect him coming inside a lot, totally not because he has a breeding kink…

Either way, It always ends with him matching your orgasm with his, how cute is it to finish together!

There's purpose and intention behind his every movement, it shows just how much he loves and cares about you. How you are his<3

✽ Though, he could always be a lot rougher if he deems it necessary… i.e, you misbehaving

He's trained you properly that it rarely happens but when it does…

His strong grip will pin your shoulders back, Luther then wedges between your spread legs as his (surprisingly) skilled fingers rub at your clit

You writhe, gasps loudly escape you as he soon ten folds the overwhelming sensation by filling you with his cock.

He purposely tries to overstimulate you, hips snapping roughly against your soft thighs as his thumb rubs at your swollen clit, drawing out shaky moans from you

“It’s too much… isn't it, pet?” Luther says lowly, the contrast is clear as day to his typical sensual doings

“Ah– please, slow down! I can't–!” He hums at your cries, shaking his head and choosing to angle himself to hit your g-spot

“You know better, haustiere (pet). Will you behave for me?”

He’ll make certain that you understand that there is no disobeying him, if it takes plowing you into his silky bed sheets over and over again… so be it

“Yes, sir! I’m sorry– I’ll behave. I promise!”

Ah, such music to his ears to hear you proclaim your compliance.

He’ll lead you to repeat yourself a few more times, each time going faster and faster as the words draw shaker and shaker from your mouth. Just so you really understand :)

✽ A good thing is that he won't ever harm you

Unless… you actually try to escape. You’d never do that to him though! You guys love each other too much!

Besides overstimulating you until you cry and pass out, his other punishments can include isolation

He’ll lock you in his room for days to a couple weeks (depending on the crime), making sure you get no contact with anyone else. Not even the rest of the family

If you don't lose your mind like that, you are sure to when he takes away your privileges of using the internet/watching tv, reading books, drawing.... basically anything that could take your mind off of what you have done

By the end of it, he wants you on your knees begging for forgiveness

And the ever kind humanoid he is, he’ll wipe the cute tears off your red face and pet your hair to comfort you

“It’s okay, geliebte. I hope you have learned your lesson.”

He knows it's harsh, but training is important for pets. How else do you learn?

If you're going to be the future bearer of his children… he needs you to be on your best behavior :)

#luther von ivory x reader #luther ranfren #luther von ivory #x reader #ranfren #dark blog #tw possessive behavior

[yureichi]

I was thinking about Jude and Cardan’s marriage. Cardan came up with this plan bc he wanted his will back, which was perfectly valid and fair, but when you think things through, other than having a brand new wife that he loved a lot, this union didn’t benefit him in anything else. Marriage between them only binds him and she was the daughter of a two time traitor, murderer of an ambassador/prince/his fucking brother and mortal. She wasn’t the best candidate for a queen. He really was willing to give her a fancy title, a crown and all the power she wanted and settle for whatever crumbs of affection she might give him in return.

On the other hand, at that point in their relationship, I think that Jude accepted the marriage proposal bc 1) she secretly loved Cardan and thought that this new station in life and relationship status would make it safe to love him openly and was hopeful that he might love her back 2) she really wanted to be queen and have absolute power 3) she did not want to be so scared anymore. In that order. Jude spent the exile angry and cursing and planning Cardan’s demise but she never took off her wedding ring. Girly was feeling absolutely hurt and heartbroken and betrayed and foolish and I’m pretty damn sure she was suffering a lot more about supposedly being dumped by her new hubby than for being the queen in exile.

Anyways, young love is crazy am I right.

#they really just wanted a safe and nice little love #jude duarte #cardan greenbriar #jurdan #the folk of the air #tfota

[bbbrianjones]

um guys........ i think u need to understand i'm going fucking insane over this picture

#LMAO??? WHAT THE FUCK ?? LIKE WHAT THE ACTUAL FAVCT???????????????????????? #you see the man on the right on your screen is probably the greatest man to have ever lived in my eyes #also known as riccardo patrese #i mean look at him!!! and his suit and tie and waistcoat??? #BABY BOY YOU LOOK AMAZING!! #actually breath taking stuff right there i mean full rights to him for looking that good #and dear god he looks so good #and other guy is walter rohrl whom i don't really care for. nice to see him there though :) #because wherever there is walter there is usually his codriver christian geistdörfer #who just so happens to be the second greatest man to have ever lived in my eyes #christian is this little beam of joy. i love looking at him. he has such a kind face. #like the sort of face you would feel safe asking for directions if you needed to #whcih would be fantastic considering that is like literally hiss job #ANYWAY #the faact that walter and riccardo are together meant that riccardo and christian probably have met and like shook hands or something??? #DO YOU UNDERSTAND THEN WHY I AM SO EXCITED ABOUT THIS PICTURE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #lord if there is a picture with those two i will literally go to grave crying tears of joy. maybe that is all a girl ever wants. #god i can't get over how much excitement this picture causes me. there is so much hope in the world!!!!!!!!! #also patrese................................. again. i think we should have kissed at least. utterly unfair.

[luvevee]

Scarlet and Violet, performance wise really lacking to the point where it's obvious there needs to be changes to how staff need to be treated better and given more time to work, are really some of the best games in the mainstream series I've ever played and I just really want to talk forever about how amazing it all is

#my switch is getting repaired for drift but man am i itching for it back #I was in the middle of the champion assessment too #but omg I really love the game and the writing and grgrgrgr #I want to bite sada/turo until they blow up #i want to hold arven nemona and penny for being such well written characters with their struggles and bonds together #i want to shake clavell's hand for being an older man in a very gen x/z environment trying to be hip but also wanting the acadamy to- #actually be safe and welcoming while taking accountability for how bullying was ignored and his own dismissal of team star #i want to cry because the teachers are so nice and understanding and actually educate their students while being open to help #and how miriam is an example of someone who tries so hard to achieve their dream for it to be just out of reach #and how the gym leaders have so much personality and how the e4 are so close-knitted together with a little girl in the middle of it all #how koraidon/miraidon thrive under the love the get from the protag and how they act just like giant dogs with the attention they want #and how they're considered low on the ladder in their species in terms of power and size but still have lots of pride and power #i wanna learn more about the crater grgrg #just really really love this game and i miss my lite neee come back to meeee #and yeah i've played from firered to now in terms of mainstream so yeah def i'm being serious #but for real the staff deserve more respect and time literally everyone can agree the game could've waited if it meant better treatment #I really appreciate the love that went into it despite the crunch but it's still shit about the obvious rush #like we know it's not the switch please lengthen the time for people to work on the games so both parties can actually enjoy things #but yeah #pokemon sv spoilers #rosebud posting 💐

[anistarrose]

inverted murder mystery: "who the fuck killed my archnemesis? i need to thank them personally"

#spoilers + meta for my own fic (a monster might begin to worry) in the tags below bc i just reread it and cried but #if magnus was less depressed and more assured of his own worthiness of being stood up for and protected #then ammbtw would have almost immediately turned into this #instead it doesn't really become this until the final chapter - where magnus finally believes that protecting him was the right thing #before that - when he did have the capacity to “solve” the case; and obviously even *did* solve it with some help - #he was so torn up over motive. over *why* someone would've intervened. and because mags thought so poorly of himself - #he wasn't convinced that killing kalen *was* a heroic act. because sure; magnus felt that kalen deserved it #but he also felt that *he* was getting off easy. that he wasn't having to atone for *his* perceived failures #in that last chapter though. in that last chapter. just when he's lost the ability to remember or comprehend the answer #which is the *same* time he finally claws his way up into good enough mental health to believe that he deserves nice things #*that's* when he finally wants to do my little shitpost above. to give the murderer a truly heartfelt thank you #and the irony is that the killer is right under his nose... and magnus doesn't know; and can never ever know #but instead of being a dark ending a la “the murderer committed the perfect crime and got away; where will they strike next?” #it's a “magnus is safe and loved and supported” ending :) even if he still doesn't know the lengths his family's gone to for him #because he's getting to a place where he can be happy without knowing all the answers :) #a monster might begin to worry

[medicinemane]

.

#I get tired of people trying to explain what lens I should view the world through; what way I could think that would make everything better #forgive me but I don't care; I do what I do and I do what I can and you don't see the work I do under the hood #I don't want advice on self validation or whatever; I want... I want someone to hold a mirror up so I can actually see myself #by which I mean I want input on how I'm doing; if it's good enough; if it's worth anything; if anything I make is good #everyone things I'm nice; everyone has always thought I'm nice #but given nice leaves me profoundly isolated I don't think I care #not to mention in my opinion what nice in this instance means is that I'm capable of listening #it's mostly that I have manners rather than some quality about me #I'm well behaved and polite and can listen; and that's perceived as nice or even sweet #and it's not like I'm offended by people seeing me that way; but maybe you can get why... I can't do anything with that information #but if I'm doing enough... if I provide any value to the world... I might have heard that less times in my life than years I've lived #that's where I'm totally blind #people don't tend to offer any input; and also people don't tend to let me know what they're thinking #and I in fact am not a mind reader; I can often accurately infer things; but no of that means a thing till it's confirmed #and... well... hopefully no one reads the stupid shit I say and especially not the tags so this is safe and hidden #but truthfully people just like to hear that stuff they're doing is wanted and matters #and I do not #I don't know... gotta go do more cleaning cause I need to #and I have no idea if... I've got a reason for fighting so hard to clean; but I get very little input so... I expect... well... #and thankfully I don't think they read my tags so I can say this #but I really expect they won't take me up on my offer to come out here and get away from their parents; so there will be no pay off #not that I blame them in the slightest... it's just the only possible pay off for this cleaning would be helping someone I like out #and a scrap of company #but then again... in many ways anyone coming out to live with me is the worst thing they could probably do #sorry... I have a rather bleak outlook on many things surrounding myself purely cause of what I infer from the past #there is never pay off; only more shit I need to get done #I will never be loved; I will never be wanted; I will always just kinda be an afterthought that's occasionally worth venting to #no one will ever be particularly interested in anything I'm interested while I'll chase their interests or at least try to #certainly let them talk about them when they want #...though I take that over my normal total isolation... better to at least be permitted to follow in someone's shadow than have nothing

[soul-spoken]

I vent or breakdown so often, I know I get told it's fine and talk when I need to but geez it feels so excessive, like I'm overly sensitive or just really really easily triggered over things that shouldn't even relate to my trauma

We come to solutions or we distract from it, or we cuddle, but it's just always there.

I can almost always feel the dumb anxiety or depression feelings, I don't want to

I wish my brain understood that

#im tired of only feeling safe when im overly babied and small. i know at this current time point certain traumas are still really fresh #and i need to let myself acknowledge that and relax and maybe be taken care of on a higher level but #i feel so clingy and embarrassed #and i really wish i wasn't still reminded of things from the past. i hate getting anxious over things from high school or college #that doesn't matter anymore #i don't wanna be so vulnerable and scared all the time #but i think i need to #i just want to be held. feel skin to skin. get kissed and called sweet names #i wanna feel his nails through my hair. hear that hushed voice he does when being soft. i wanna be closer #i wanna be safe and told its not scary. its not bad. instead of how we've been going about things.. #cant i just feel secluded and loved? feel protected and small #i wanna be told that my ptsd is a normal reaction and that i dont have to be like i was before. i can take a while to gather myself #to mourn and exist. to just.. be #be however my brain is needing to be in order to relax #i wanna be intimate and romantic and loving and gentle #i feel so guilty over these wants and needs #i wish i didn't have them. i wish i understood that its safe to have them. #i wish i was different #i wish i was me. but me before #when i was stable and felt nice and independent but i still had little moments of softness and needing help. i miss my early early twenties #but. i also miss the feeling of being held tight by him and told nothing could hurt me anymore. that he was gonna keep the bad away #like middle school. keeping the mean kids away #i love him. i want to feel loved #i am loved. i don't doubt that. but i wish i could capture every soft second and live in it forever #and i feel so guilty #trav.txt

[carrotpiss]

🐰🧡🐻

#in stark contrast to most of my personal posts this is about me being happy and gay #because i need to just get it out my system bc otherwise i am just going to grab a friend by the shoulders and scream (in joy) in their face #i am dating someone and its really really nice and sweet and cute and like nothing ive ever experienced before #and instead its like every tiny little dream about this kind of thing ive managed to hold onto despite every experience otherwise and ahhhh #the lack of focus on just sex or sex appeal is so nice its like there but as a side thing so its nice and i dont feel like an object #i feel like a human person with thoughts and feelings and interests outside if that and feel safe in that and feel safe that everything wont #just be discarded if i dont want to do that like i feel like boundaries and stuff are an option! without jeopardising everything #and el likes me as much as i like them and wants and sees and communicates that they want something long term and ahhhhhhhh #i just want to cry like holy shit this is everything ive ever wondered about like i have spent so long wondering what this feeling would #actually feel like and its so good and so indescribable and ahhhhhhh #waking up on monday night and seeing them in my bed and cuddling me was just so nice i felt wanted i felt... loved #this all seems so out of left field still i still feel like i just never saw it coming but its so welxome and nice and ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh #my pessimism is still there but its less loud now its more learning to accept this may not be perfect forever but letting me enjoy the now #crouch speaks #it feels so nice to not be scared and to feel secure and ahhh #also it made me laugh El remembered me hitting on then at the Dgoals release show making them blush lol #i only remember the time i hit on them later at the groles show so its funny i pretty much used the same line twice and it still worked #i cant wait to see them again i cant wait to hold hands in public again i cant wait to be idiots who keep blushing too hard and accidentally #kissing eachother on the nose instead of the mouth because we are stupid and gay and pathetic about it hahaha #just ahhhh i could gush forever how perfect the 2!!! dates weve been on were and the fact they want more and more and ahhhhh #this is so lame i know i just haven't experienced anything remotely like this before and its just... wild #like wow holy shit what on earth i have been so increasingly miserablely depressed and insecure from the shea stuff last year and then this #just absolutely removed all of that i actually feel like a human person again with value